#coming from someone who has kissed several people and found they all taste the same sdjkfhdskf

[limey-self-inserts]

Honeyed Skin with my fave ship Ani please :3

- @faerie-circle-ships

honeyed skin ୧ ‧₊˚ what do ur fﾉo‘s lips taste like ? does their chapstick linger on your tongue, leaving the ghost of its flavor there ? or do they taste like the faintest trace of their natural, unadulterated essence ?

well. mostly skin

honestly when Avon and Aniketos kiss, there's nothing there about taste, it's the smell that kicks in. floral jacaranda and lavender and a dozen wildflowers that Avon would struggle to name but enjoys the scent of regardless. the lingering smell of the latest tea he made to brew, or dish he's been cooking, or sweet bread he's been baking. maybe the tang of oil paint from a new painting, interrupted by Avon's affections. on nights when Aniketos must go to serve the Fairy Queen, he'll have perfumes that dull the smell of flowers but carry much stronger smells of cinnamon, elderberry, potent scents to lull his targets into a more relaxed state.

his kisses stay the same every time, even if the scents vary in beautiful ways, day by day.

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Return and imprisonment

You thought you were freed from the shackles of Satoru Gojo when you found out he was sealed. But fate, which has been giving you signs for so long, has decided that it no longer wants to help you

Warnings: not really, only yandere!Satoru and a little-little creepy

~

On the day when the whole world seemed doomed, because the great Satoru Gojo was sealed, you finally found your freedom.

While people were cowering in fear, you were finally able to breathe freely. The oppressive walls of his luxury apartment, which became a golden cage for you, could be destroyed without fear that someone would come for you. It was actually quite easy to escape all this time. The only problem was that your "crazy lover" will always find you.

You can hardly remember how long you were in his loving arms, so you can hardly remember why he chose you in the first place. When you asked him that one day, Satoru gave you a big smile, as if you weren't shaking with fear at the time, hugged you gently, kissed your temple, and told you that he would never find the perfect person for him that you were.

You met him quite a long time ago, back in high school, and he seemed quite normal back then. He immediately started talking to you a lot, but for someone like Satoru, that was normal. You didn't mind either, especially since Gojo was stronger, more experienced, and could teach you how to fight curses better and thus reduce the chance that you would die by your own stupidity.

But with every month - no, week - that you knew him, something started to feel wrong, terrible. Satoru has always looked at you a lot, but since when did he stop blinking? Since when did he turn his head horribly behind you when you decided to change the trajectory a little? Since when did he run into you again and again, even though you never had the same schedule for every day?

When you first asked him about it, you should have immediately run to the other side of the world after answering. Gojo was in a trance at the time, muttering that he had never seen a creature as perfect as you. When he blinked, seeming to recover, he just smiled and, to your confusion, which should have been a horror, replied that he was telling the complete truth.

You haven't noticed the hints of fate for too long. But it couldn't have been any other way. You come from the "village", you have never interacted with other sorcerers, especially those as strong as Satoru. After talking to his friends and reasonably judging that the "strongest" ones have their own oddities, you continued to communicate with Gojo…

And then were abducted and locked up for several years.

It happened suddenly, on a day that didn't bode well. You just opened your eyes and realized that this wasn't the school dorm you were living in, since it was quite expensive to rent an apartment, but an unfamiliar room that was too richly furnished for it not to be a dream.

And you thought it was all a dream for a while, especially after Satoru showed up. Yes, the strange feeling in your stomach was still trying to warn you of the danger, but Gojo was smiling so sweetly at you while carrying your breakfast tray that you thought it was fine.

And then reality hit you.

You were wearing the same clothes as last night. You felt the weight of the fork and the hands of the sorcerer, who placed his big hands on your blanket-covered knees. You could taste the food perfectly, and you could smell the sheets and tell exactly what they had been washed with most recently.

If this was a dream, it was too real. If it was a dream, it soon turned into a nightmare.

There were strange bracelets on your hands and feet that gave off cursed energy. It only took you one attempt to use your abilities to realize that you are now completely defenseless.

A scream, a tantrum, a tray thrown at Satoru... all this caused the sorcerer, who was frozen next to the bed, only a slight smile of a man in love. When you asked him in a shaky voice what you were doing here, Gojo opened his arms as if inviting you into a hug and smiled harder, now looking like the maniac he was slowly becoming over the years.

"You're safe here, my sweetcake."

 And with these words, you have lost any freedom.

At first, Satoru wouldn't let you out of the room, which was large but very limited. He kept repeating that it was all for your safety, that it was the only way he, the strongest, could protect you from "the evil of this world." He treated you as if you were a lover who responded to his feelings. He continued to act as if all your screams, all your pleas, all your curses at him were nothing. He pretended not to notice that you didn't want to be here at all.

Gradually, he allowed you to walk all over the apartment. And even though it was bigger and better than his bedroom, where you were forced to sleep in the same bed as the man who kidnapped you, you still didn't feel any better. There wasn't a single person you could talk to except Satoru, who would return from missions and continue to demand love from you as if you were his beloved wife.

You've wandered through corridors filled with paintings and expensive decor, you've explored every wall and found so many ways to escape. But every time you managed to escape, hurting yourself or not, Gojo found you, brought you back, locked you up. And it happened again and again and again.

You would never accept his tender but perverted love. But at the same time, you started to lose all hope. Your relatives didn't even know you were trapped. You asked your friends to turn their backs on you so they wouldn't get hurt. No one could help you because Satoru Gojo is "the strongest".

Gradually, you stopped trying to run away, to resist, just drowning in the arms of Satoru, who naively believed that you loved him in return. You might have loved him back if he hadn't kidnapped you, held you hostage, prevented you from communicating with other people, and threatened your loved ones and random strangers by telling that he would kill them if you tried to leave him.

 "We are made for each other, that's what my heart says, that's what my mind says, that's what my eyes say. So why do you want to leave me?"

 You have almost lost your identity, becoming the plaything of the caring but crazy Satoru Gojo, as fate seems to have decided to take pity on you.

On the day when the whole world lost hope, you found it.

As already mentioned, it was quite easy to escape from his home. He pretended to trust you. And even though he could always find you and teach you a lesson, he wanted to see if you really agreed to play by his rules and never, ever leave him. Once Gojo was out of this world, there was nothing to keep you in his apartment.

Grabbing the numerous jewels that the sorcerer gave you, you ran as far as you could until you felt a pain in your stomach. All the subsequent events were a blur, you wanted to cry and scream, tear your hair out on your head and thank the world that you can finally go outside, see other people's faces, breathe in fresh air, without being afraid that your loved ones will be brutally killed, and their corpses will be brought to you on the silver expensive dishes.

You were in such a hurry that you even forgot who you were asking for help. All you can remember is how you were able to start breathing again as soon as the restraints on your power were removed. You had a lot of money after selling your jewelry, and if something was missing, you could go back to Satoru`s apartment. And even if you hoped that he was robbed a hundred times, it is unlikely that all the most valuable things could be taken away at once.

After a few days of sitting at home and just enjoying the freedom, you were able to more or less leave the creepy apartment behind. You tried to erase from your memories the big bed where Gojo slept with you, hugging your body as if you were his cute little pet that can't resist. You tried to forget the big room where the walls were decorated with your photos, and the shelves were filled with things that were dear to you and suddenly disappeared for several months. You have tried to permanently erase from your mind those moments like Satoru would come home, give you a gentle hug and stretch out his cheerful voice: "I'm home, my sweet roll!"

  If only he was normal, if only he didn't kidnap you, if only he didn't say that he would kill anyone who tried to take you away from him, even if you wanted to escape... it would be a perfect, rich and happy life. But that wasn't the case.

But that's all in the past. Now you are completely free and are in another city. The war of sorcerers and curses is over, you are not going to help those who were afraid of Satoru Gojo and did not even try to help you. (And even if you wouldn't cross his path yourself, some invisible anger at the entire sorcerer society still lingers deep inside you.)

You planned to leave the country soon and start a new life somewhere far, far away, perhaps even stop being a sorcerer and become someone else. You felt lonely and insecure, but there was nothing you could do about it.

You couldn't go to the sorcerers because they would never help you and so have too many problems. You couldn't go to the police because they would just get killed, which is exactly what you were trying to avoid by staying peacefully in your prison and trying not to annoy Gojo. You could not go to a psychologist, because then you will also be asked to contact the police, assuring them that you are now safe, but this will be a lie that "ordinary people" will consider true.

So you were forced to deal with everything that was happening on your own, but at least not in the four walls that you can't leave.

You walked slowly out of the store, enjoying the freedom and the streets full of people rushing to their homes. You were planning to leave Japan in the near future, you just need to make documents and fly to wherever your heart wants. While you were gradually healing, cooking your favorite food and finally logging on to social media, watching and listening to what you like, rather than dying of boredom in front of the TV and radio that Satoru deigned to give you as "entertainment" while he was away.

So you went up to your floor, enjoying the weight of the bags in your hands, because Gojo didn't let you carry anything heavy, even if you were trying to forget yourself. You entered your small, poor rented apartment and felt that you were finally at home. Kicking off your comfortable, cheap shoes, you went to change into your own clothes, not the ones that belonged to the sorcerer, and began to prepare dinner, enjoying every second of what was happening, because Satoru forbade you to pick up anything sharp, for fear that you would harm yourself.

You calmly sliced vegetables, listening to the TV on out of the corner of your ear. It looks like it was some kind of romantic movie. You continued to cook, gradually immersing yourself in the plot, until it dawned on you that the main male character kidnapped the main female character and said that she should fall in love with him in a certain period of time. You opened your eyes in horror, remembering Gojo's beautiful face, which you wanted to slash with a knife, turned around, rushed to the console... and froze, noticing a familiar tall figure on the couch.

Your kidnapper always seemed big, but that was a little overshadowed by the fact that all the furniture in his apartment was designed to match his height and build. Now, sitting on a small, faded sofa, he looked like a giant. You almost dropped the knife from your hands in shock, but you clung to it just in time, even though you knew it was a normal weapon – even if it was filled with cursed energy! – it won't help you.

You staggered backwards until you hit the kitchen cabinet. A loud sound cut the room in two, and you almost lost consciousness. Your entire body was frozen, you wouldn't be able to move even if you were attacked.

You hoped, prayed, that this was all just a dream, a nightmare, one of the ones you saw every night after you left the sorcerer's apartment. You raised your hand to pinch yourself, but your trembling fingers couldn't catch your own skin. There were tears in your eyes, and you wanted to wake up screaming right now, right at this particular moment.

But it wasn't a dream, it wasn't a nightmare. No, no, no, no...

 Gojo reached for the remote and turned off the TV. He stood up and slowly turned to you with a big smile. He didn't look as angry or enraged as you thought. He looked like the same loving young man he always was.

–Hi… my little cinnamon roll.

You still dropped the knife, and Satoru hurried over to catch it. He picked up the sharp object and tossed it aside, shaking his head. Looking at you with loving blue eyes, he chuckled and said:

–Be careful, my cupcake! The knife is very sharp. What if it had fallen on your foot? I can't let you get hurt!

He opened his arms and wrapped them around you, pinning you to the kitchen counter. Tears came to your eyes, but not from happiness. You were disgusted by the smell of him, by his movements, by his breath on your neck. Gojo laughed deeply and pressed his lips to your neck. He pulled away, looked at your tear-stained face, shook his head, and started kissing your cheeks.

–Now you don't have to be afraid, – he murmured between kisses. – I will always be with you now, I will always protect you, my darling. You must have been so shocked that you ran out of my apartment here, afraid that someone would find you and try to kill you, right?

It would have been better if you had just died outside. You would die in fear, shock, but never, ever see Satoru Gojo again.

His embrace grew stronger, and you could hear that familiar mad laugh that sometimes came out of his chest when you tried unsuccessfully to escape and got stuck right in front of the sorcerer's feet.

–You're with me now, you're with me again. You're safe again, – you felt something being put on your finger. Ring. – I know you deserve so much more, but this is the ring I prepared for you as soon as I saw you the day you arrived at school, – he pressed his nose to yours, and you saw his eyes darken with emotion. His big hands grabbed yours. You are trapped in a trap from which there is absolutely no way to get out. – Will you marry me, my only ray of light?

Your answer was unimportant. Your answer was never important to him. He just wanted you to be forever in his arms, forever touching his body, forever smiling at him and swearing that you would never leave him. You were the only person he ever wanted to see around him... even if you didn't want to. But who are you compared to the one who is called "the strongest"?

If before you were a bird sitting in a golden cage, now you are a bird that has its wings broken forever.

[paradoxcase]

Chapter 28 of Harrow the Ninth

We are now following up on the earlier scene with Dulcinea

What are we meant to read between the lines here? That Abigail has hidden them somewhere? I don't think they can have been sent back, since no one has the shuttles still. It's interesting that the Fourth teens seem to be non-characters in this recounting, considering they are definitely dead

She knows what coffee is, and what it smells like, but tea has too much flavor for her. I also note that Gideon didn't think the tea tasted strongly at all in the first book, but was unfamiliar with the concept of a hot drink. I'm really unsure what conclusions we're meant to come to about the Ninth House's hot drink situation here

How did she verify that event? Since there was no one else there when it happened and she saw both of them jump off the ledge into the ocean, how could anyone else have verified that for her? Or did she just wait for a while and see if she bumped into either of them later?

Actually, now I am wondering if the reason she kept Protesilaus's severed head in her closet without telling anyone for multiple days in Gideon the Ninth was because she wasn't sure if him coming apart had been real or not, and similarly didn't have any outside verification until Gideon found the head and brought it to Palamedes. So maybe when she told Palamedes she thought that he had been in on it, she didn't actually think that but was just using that as the reason for not telling anyone. i think commented back then that it wouldn't make sense for her to think that, as she thought at the time that Palamedes and Dulcinea didn't know each other

So, Abigail gives Harrow this piece of paper based on the fact that Corona has died (or something), and doesn't seem surprised when Harrow reads it, and later hypothesizes that Harrow is haunted. I'm not sure of the connection between Corona dying and Harrow being haunted, unless Abigail has some meta-knowledge that this is a fake memory and the pattern of who is dying in these memories is significant. Also, this is the second time in these memories that Abigail gave Harrow a piece of paper to read, so maybe she suspected that Harrow was haunted earlier as well?

This is kind of interesting, because it's not like they ambushed her this time. She got up and walked into their room alone of her own volition, and it never is made clear in this scene what she did that for in the first place. She didn't decide to tell them about Mayonnaise Uncle and Corona until after she was already in there

Ok, there is getting to be a lot of pronouns and also unquoted reported speech in these and it's hard to keep straight how many people there are here. Let me try:

[1] will remember the first time [2] kissed [1] -- [2] apologized -- [2] said, [2] am sorry, destroy [2] as [2] am, but [2] want to kiss [1] before [2] am killed, and [1] said to [2] why, and [2] said, because [2] have only once met someone[3] so utterly willing to burn for what [3] believe in, and [2] loved [3] on sight, and the first time [2] died [2] asked of [3] what [2] now ask of [1] [1] kissed [2] and later [1] would kiss [4] too before [1] understood what [2+4???] were and all three of [1+2+4] lived to regret it -- but when [1] am in heaven [1] will remember [2]r mouth and when [2] roast down in hell [1] think [2] will remember [1]ne

[2] has already died once and at least expected at one point to die again

[1] and [3] are/were "utterly willing to burn for what they believe in"

If these notes follow the same continuity, then possible [1] is the speaker in the earlier notes and [2+4] are the addressees of the second note, and [2] is the addressee of the first note and [4] is "him" in that note

[3] seems to be someone new

"she" from the second note doesn't seem to be in this one anywhere

So assuming that neither [1] nor [2] are the same person as "she" from the second note, there seem to be at least five people here, one female, two male, two undetermined. If we go along with the idea that these people are John + original Lyctors + a fifth person who is probably [1], then we can at least conclude that Gideon the first probably isn't either [2] or [4], but since [3] seems to be in the past at this point, he could be a Lyctor who is dead now, possibly. Or maybe "he" from the first and maybe second note is Gideon the First and [2] is John and Gideon the First isn't in this note at all. [4] is maybe Augustine?

Ok, like, forget about whatever is going on with Harrow's hallucinations, what on earth is this about?

It is true that Harrow didn't start having hallucinations until after she opened the Tomb, so possibly she is being haunted by the Body? That would make sense, since the Body is in so many of her hallucinations. So is the Body the person writing these notes? We can guess that she might be A.L. and obviously has something to do with John

Also, Magnus seems to think something about this is old news. Does Abigail habitually go around suggesting that people or things might be haunted? Or has Abigail been talking with him nonstop about how how Harrow might be haunted?

[peppermintquartz]

Matrix AU

*

Buck always felt something was wrong with the world, but he didn't realise how wrong until he manages to survive a lightning strike that he's supposed to die in. And the world around him has changed. Sometimes he sees flickers of green numbers and symbols running over surfaces. Walls, cars, food, clouds. People. Everything seemed to flicker between what's there and what's computer code.

Then one night he gets a call.

"It's no longer safe for you. We will extract you tonight. Don't open the front door to anyone."

Buck doesn't listen, of course. And Agents show up to capture this one anomaly.

But he's saved by three men, who take him to a place with other people, all of whom have a predilection for leather, apparently.

"Chopper, get us out," the one they call Cap says on a cell phone.

They get Buck out.

*

Cap is the leader, and he says he used to be a firefighter captain. Chimney is the wiry, quippy guy with sass twice as large as he is. Eddie doesn't go by a nickname, though sometimes Chimney calls Eddie "Stache". There's also their operator, Ravi, who was born in the real world. He has an uncanny ability to find the resources they need, and bemoans real world food the most out of the crew even though he's never tasted anything created by the Matrix before to make the comparisons.

On board the Hephaestus, there's a medical officer Hen who doesn't like entering the Matrix. Her wife is still in there, Hen explains, with their kids. And Hen can't guarantee that the family she left behind want to come out to live a difficult and dangerous existence. She hopes Karen has remarried.

Chopper is their pilot. He's taciturn, almost aloof, but Buck soon discovers Chopper's dry sense of humor. Chopper has walked away from a one-on-one fight with an agent, twice, once with Eddie's help. Buck learns how to fight from Chopper and Eddie. With Chopper more when the ship is grounded - Eddie spends every moment not on the ship with his son Christopher.

Chopper and Buck grow closer, to the point they end up sharing a room (both in the city and in the ship). Still, Chopper doesn't make a move on Buck, and Buck doesn't really know why he bristles whenever someone tries to belittle Chopper.

When they go back into the Matrix to visit the Oracle, Chopper and Buck are separated from the main group, and they find an agent is on their tail. This is Agent Sal. Agent Sal calls Chopper "Thomas Kinard". Both Chopper and Buck fight off the agent and escape together. When they make it to the Oracle, she smiles and tells Buck "you have found your tether". To Chopper, she says, "Not everything of the past needs to be buried."

They get into another huge chase, ending up in a literal chopper, and they fly into a building where they grab the landline and come back to the real world.

That night Buck asks about the name. Chopper says that was who he used to be. Buck says he was Evan. Chopper admits that he misses being Tommy, and Agent Sal is out to torture Chopper specifically, because it's wearing the face of Chopper's first lover.

Buck gets super protective and furious that Chopper is targeted. In his bluster he talks about himself being an Evan of four Evans, so Buck is just a way to differentiate himself. Chopper says that, up here, on the Hephaestus, there's just one Evan. Buck listens to the way Chopper says his name, and then Buck says "Tommy", and that's when they kiss. They move into the same cabin, freeing up a room.

And with one room free, Buck tries asking Cap if they can go back down to retrieve his sister. They get Maddie out, Buck shooting Doug several times in the face each time he turns into an Agent, and she's so happy not to have to face her abusive bastard of a husband again that she refuses to even learn in a controlled environment how to exist in the Matrix. She would rather be just an operator like Ravi (and she does, she's a quick study) and she has an iron stomach so she can help Hen also.

Maddie and Chim fall in love and after she becomes pregnant, they decided to stay in the city as ground support. They end up having Jee and she's a darling.

Chopper and Buck live together, under Cap's leadership, freeing a dozen people within a year. Only they call each other by the names they grew up with. They don't advertise their relationship but anyone with eyes can tell.

After a while, Eddie becomes part of them too, when they offered comfort after he witnesses his wife turning into an Agent and he had to help Buck and Chopper throw that Agent off a highway bridge into traffic. They become the trio assigned to accompany the One when it comes time to challenge the Matrix head on. And the Matrix is sending its sentinels to destroy humanity.

But somehow Buck knows that this will be a one-way trip, and tries to convince the One to remember that there are many others out there who deserve to live. That Jee is just a kid, and there are so many kids.

The tragedy is that the One will remember, and he will choose the logical option.

But he asks for and gets one extra day, and he tells Buck to make full use of it, and Buck uses that one final day to love as fiercely and brightly as he can, and he doesn't let any of them go back to fight a futile battle, doesn't let them go back to see the destruction of the place they call home, doesn't let them leave his embrace even as humanity is consumed by the Matrix once again.

[theneondemonx]

MY TYPE | JJK

One Shot

▽ summary: you’ve never liked fuckboys, especially one Jeon Jungkook. But when you find yourself late at night playing a game of seven minutes in heaven with your college friends, things take a different turn.

▽ genre: porn with very little plot, college au

▽ pairings: fuckboy|jk x fem!reader

▽ words: 2192

▽ warnings: implied alcohol use, jk jerked off to your insta pics (y/n living the dream), oral sex (m receiving, deep throating), unprotected sex, lots of cum, dirty talk, nipple play, jk has a big dick

A chorus of ooohs filled the messy living room in which you and your friends were sitting in circle. It was late and most of the party guests had already gone back home, leaving just a small bunch of you and a pile of garbage all over the house. You would have gladly leave the place way earlier if it wasn’t for your best friend Se-mi, who you promised to drive back home. She insisted in staying longer to hit on Min Yoongi, one of your fellow classmates from the same major, but the guy seemed to barely notice. He might even been interested in her for all you knew: there was no way of telling, since he was always so introverted. The only person he spoke to was his disaster of a friend, Jeon Jungkook, the campus playboy.

How do they even get along? They have literally nothing in common.

And you knew this, since you had been often paired with Yoongi for some group projects during the years. The guy was cool. He was really smart and funny when you actually got to know him. He just didn’t open up easily. That’s why, even though you’ve had the opportunity to chat with him several times, you couldn’t really say you two were friends.

But back to the ooohs. The reason behind that childish reaction was to trace in the empty bottle of beer who had just stop spinning, pointing at you and the infamous Jeon Jungkook, who was having the time of his life – judging from the mischievous grin on his face.

You weren’t blind, you knew he was hot as fuck, but he was way too aware of his good looks and terribly overconfident. He was known to have slept with most girls on campus, and you were pretty sure he was more dedicated to keep his record than to actually graduate. Which, for a good student like you, was infuriating.

You had always found him annoying and obnoxious. And on top of that, you couldn’t figure out how girls seemed to fall for his cheesy lines every single time, throwing themselves at him like he was the only guy with a dick.

Sure, you didn’t really knew the guy, but in your opinion there wasn’t much to know about him. He was a cliché. And you couldn’t help but roll your eyes every time he tried to hit on you. Because he did. Of course he did. You were just his favorite type of prey: one that was not easy to catch.

“Well, you know the rules, guys. The closet is right at the end of the corridor. You have to stay in there for seven minutes. If you get out earlier, you have to kiss in front of everybody for the remaining time. And if you don’t get out.. well.. good for you.”

“Don’t worry, Jimin. Seven minutes are more than enough.” You said with a sarcastic tone, giving him a fake smile while you got up and adjusted your skirt.

Jungkook scoffed, getting up and leaning closer to your ear to talk in a low voice, but loud enough for the others to hear.

“You must have had some pretty lame sex if you think so. Hope I’ll change your mind.”

“You’re disgusting.”

And that’s how you found yourself sharing the tightest possible space with a known fuckboy like Jeon Jungkook.

As soon as you entered the closet, you pushed your back against one of the walls, folding your arms to your chest to make him understand in every possible way that you weren’t going to give into any of his shenanigans. Stupid move, since your shirt was a bit low-cut and that only made your tits pop up even more, looking like a four course meal to the blatant gaze of Jungkook.

“No class to run to this time, mh?” he immediately uttered, giving you a malicious smile while leaning with his shoulder against the door frame.

“Unfortunately.”

He rolled his eyes, darkened even more by the dim light of the small space you were both trapped in.

“Oh come on, do you really want to turn this game into seven minutes in hell? You don’t necessarily have to be a mood killer.”

“I just don’t like you, Jungkook. I know you are not used to hear it, but that’s just how it is.”

Your comeback didn’t seem to affect him at all. If anything, he just made him chuckle and slightly shake his head.

Seriously? You are that full of yourself?

“Ok, so it’s another Y/L/N Y/N who liked my photo at the gym from three years ago and then changed her whole profile in a ridiculous attempt to hide it.”

Your eyes widened and your cheeks turned suddenly red. You got caught.

“It was a mistake.” You tried to explain yourself, knowing too well that there was nothing you could say to go back from that.

He raised his eyebrow, looking straight at you from underneath his eyelashes.

“You scrolled through all my Instagram profile by mistake?”

No you didn’t. You just got curious. That’s the kind of shit you did at three in the morning when you couldn’t sleep. You just find yourself looking for weird stuff on the internet and scrolling through profiles of people you barely knew for no apparent reason. It was just a bonus point the fact that Jungkook’s profile was full of pictures of his body sculped by the gods. Sure, you were annoyed by his attitude, but you were still a woman.

“And you did it so very late at night, if I might add.” He said, taking a step forward towards you. “What were you doing, Y/N? Looking for something interesting?”

You blushed so hard that you were pretty sure he could see the redness in your cheeks even despite the poor lighting in the closet. But you couldn’t help but stare at him in the eyes like a deer caught in headlights, unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze.

“I wasn’t.” You murmured, defensively.

“You don’t have to feel ashamed, you know? I was awake too – thank God, if I might add. I would have missed it otherwise. I would have found myself locked out of that mysterious profile, unable to look at your cute pictures.” He paused, leaning way too close to your face. “Don’t tell anyone, but I had some fun with those.”

Normally, you would have told him that he was sickening, but for some reason you felt a pleasant warmth irradiating in your belly. You couldn’t help but picture him jerking off to your photos, and it wasn’t sickening at all. If anything, it was weirdly enticing.

He rested his palm on the wall, right next to your face, and looked down at your body like he was ready to devour it in one bite.

“I recognized the skirt, you know?”

You didn’t remember wearing it in one of your pictures, but it was plausible: that skirt was one of your favorites. Cute and short, but not too revealing.

“Well, I hope you saved the picture, because that’s all you’re gonna get.”

This was your response, when you actually found the courage to talk. But your voice was so low and shaky that you found it hard yourself to believe your own words. Of course he didn’t fall for it.

“Are you sure?”

You bit your lip, nodding in a last ridiculous attempt to give yourself a standoffish look, which again he didn’t buy at all.

He got even closer, slightly pressing his body against yours until your heavy breaths were melting into one another and you could feel his hardness on your stomach.

You did not respond. You were brain dead. All you could feel was your core painfully clenching around nothing and your blood flowing down to your lower belly, emptying your head of any thought beside those filled with the desire to feel his body.

“Mh.. okay..” he said, gently resting his hand on your thigh and starting to go further up with an excruciating slow pace. “So you don’t like this.”

It wasn’t a question, but it was clear he was looking for a reply you were unable to give. A soft moan escaped your lips at his gentle touch, which you didn’t move away from. A silent green light for him to go even further up, taking his caress under the hem of your skirt until his digits were brushing the damp fabric of your underwear.

“You want me to stop, Y/N?”

His words were a mere whisper against your lips to which you couldn't help but faintly gasp.

“No.” You found yourself saying, right before being cut off by the kiss he gave you, pressing his lips against yours and spreading them open for his tongue to enter your mouth.

You moaned, melting like pudding against his body while his fingers started drawing slow circles on your sensitive clit.

“For someone who finds me disgusting you got yourself soaking wet pretty fast, princess.”

His provocative words only got you wetter and needier, pushing you to the edge of your psychological barricade. Your hands rushed to his belt, unbuckling it with fast and sloppy movements until you could zip down his jeans, letting his hard cock spring free in front of you.

Fuck he’s big.

He seemed to have somehow read your thoughts in your eyes, since he chuckled, guiding your hand to wrap around his width and slightly moving it up and down while letting out a raspy moan.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and take me in your mouth, princess?”

You licked your lips, looking up at him with your eyes filled with lust while you slowly got to your knees. You never broke eye contact, pumping him slowly but steadily before swirling your tongue around the tip of his cock, covered with precum.

“Tastes good?”

“Mhmh.” You nodded with a mischievous smile on your face.

Your mouth soon wrapped around his cock, taking it all in until you started gaggin a bit for the length. A reaction which made him moan loudly and grab your hair, steadying his grip in order to guide your head in the increasing pace.

“Fuck your mouth feels so good.”

“You like it? Is this what you pictured while jerking off to my photos?” You said during a small pause, not even giving him the time to respond with anything but a loud moan, since you immediately got back to deep throating his cock like it was your last meal.

“Fuck I’m close.”

Those words only made you move faster, keeping your eyes locked with his to take in every ounce of pleasure you could get from him. And at that point there wasn’t much he could do to hold back. You suddenly felt his hot semen spilling down your throat.

However, you only had the time to swallow before he leaned down, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you up with ridiculous ease.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, letting him push you against the wall and move your wet panties to the side to sink deep inside your throbbing core.

You let out a sharp moan, welcoming his size between your tight walls with pleasurable pain. One of his hands got under your shirt and bra, squeezing your breast and tracing circles with his thumb on your hard nipple.

“Look at you. You got so wet just by sucking my cock, baby?”

His words were again a lustful whisper against your parted lips, but you were unable to respond – your voice cut by the deep thrusts he was torturing you with. You were sure, however, that the lewd sounds of your wetness were enough of an answer to him.

“Such a pretty little slut. What are you gonna tell the others when they’ll see my cum dripping down your thighs?”

You moaned loudly, helping his pace with the movements of your own hips to take him even deeper.

“I’m gonna tell them that this lame sex little slut made you come twice in a row.”

He groaned, thrusting harder in you.

“You are so fucking hot.”

The pace got quicker and quicker until you found yourself out of breath, calling his name in between moans while your legs started shivering, signaling your forthcoming orgasm. And when it came, it hit you like a train, making you grab his hair and moan loudly while your walls clenched around his cock. You felt him twitch inside you until he sank deep with sloppy thrusts, releasing his orgasm inside you with a raspy moan.

You two took some moments to relax your racing heartbeats, leaning against each other's forehead with eyes closed and heavy breaths.

When you felt again capable of speaking, you let out a pretty laugh, pressing your palm against his cheek.

“Hope this memory will serve you well for your future lonely nights.”

He laughed, caressing your nose with the tip of his.

“Trust me, this won’t stay in the past.”

“Jerkass.”

“Nerd.”

[whoree321]

Hey, I believe your requests are open, so, could you please write smth were reader and Tech are friends with benefits?

Also, I’m in the same dilemma as you, cause everyone already forgot tbb and I’m still obsessed??? Like, were is everybody excitement about the show, it was gone so fast…

Anyway, thank ya <3

hello friend! this is a delicious request and i am more than happy to oblige! i’m not sure if you wanted like pure angst or like sexy successful fwb but above all else i am a dirty dirty slut for happy endings so i went light angst, heavy fluff, mild smut to get a little of everything lmaooooo. this also got a little out of control and i’m not sorry.

and literally i am suffering so much in this ever increasing drought of bad batch excitement. like i feel like the person at a party when everyone else is tired and wants to leave who’s still just way too hyped and is like “NO WAIT GUYS LETS HAVE MORE SHOTS AND PLAY TRUTH OR DARE COME ON ITLL BE FUN”. i am in absolute agony. but anyways!

a mutually beneficial arrangement (tech x gn!reader)

it was purely sex. just two friends helping each other relieve some stress occasionally. just two friends who happened to have sex with each other. until it wasn’t.

warnings: fwb, mild smut, reader is gender/genital neutral but they are penetrated by tech (amab)

word count: no idea but it’s pretty long

***

In hindsight, it really shouldn’t have shocked you that this was how things played out.

It’s not like you’d ever been friends with benefits with someone before. It’s not like you didn’t know how easily you could develop feelings for people. It’s not like you didn’t know you were maybe just a little too interested in Tech non-platonically before any of this even started.

No, you knew all of those things going into it. You made the conscious decision to be the biggest dumbass in the galaxy.

When Tech had first suggested a friends with benefits situation, it seemed like a much better idea than it actually was. You had been assigned to Clone Force 99 for a few weeks at that point and had already developed fast friendships with all of them (Crosshair even sometimes acknowledged your presence with neutrality and that definitely felt like at least an acquaintanceship). You were closest with Tech, and one tipsy night at 79’s found the two of you making out in a hallway near the bathroom. You could still remember the way his mouth tasted like whiskey as he pressed you up against the wall

He paused his assault on your lips to look at you, breath fanning lightly across your face. You whined at the loss of contact, not noticing in your haze the intensity in his eyes as he studied you, as though if he took in enough of you he would have the answer to an imposssible question. He migrated lower, planting kisses and sucking lightly on your neck until he made his way to your ear.

“Have you ever heard of people being platonic sexual partners?”, he asked low in your ear. You shuddered at the feeling of his breath and the deeper tone to his voice before you answered.

“You mean like friends with benefits?”

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean,” Tech clarified as he moved to once again nibble on the sweet spots of your neck. Had you had a little more sense, you would have warned him not to leave any noticeable marks, lest you suffer the teasing of the rest of the boys.

“I’ve heard of it, I’ve never done it before though. Why?”

“Well, given our current circumstance,” his response was punctuated by his ministrations on your pressure points, “it may be mutually beneficial for us to enter into that type of arrangement.”

You stopped him for a moment, and lifted his face so that you could make eye contact. Tech stood up a little straighter, hands running up and down your sides lightly as he gazed down at you.

“You think that we should be friends with benefits?”

Tech nodded, one hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

“I believe it would be an advantageous relationship. We could have relations while still maintaining our successful platonicity, thus eliminating the need to alter the dynamic of the squad with the complications of some trivial romance. It would also be physically beneficial. Sexual intercourse has been shown to successfully alleviate stress, as well as…”

He kept going, explaining the health benefits of sex, but it was hard to pay attention to his rambling while you tried to clear your head of the alcohol and the intoxication of his touch and figure out where you stood on his proposition. In that moment, everything he said made total sense. Granted, that part about “trivial romance” stung a little, but you could still fuck him without ruining the squad or your friendship with him, and Maker did you want to fuck him…

Uncharacteristically cutting off his rant, you responded. “I accept your offer. I would love to be friends with benefits with you.”

Tech grinned, a lust forming in his eyes at the new promise of the benefits the night was leading to.

“Splendid”

From that (mind-blowing) night, sex became a very regular thing. A mission went poorly? Frustrated sex. A mission went well? Celebratory sex. The Batch got leave time? Vacation sex. The Batch hadn’t gotten leave time in too long? Cabin fever sex. It really had started out pretty platonically, but after the first few times you could feel yourself falling head over heels for him. You knew you should stop it, Tech would never hold it against you or be upset if you changed your mind. You told yourself again and again that you would just break it off with him, but then his hands and his lips and his body would be on you, and the hungry way he looked at you would knock the air, and any ideas of making him stop, out of you.

In your defense, it wasn’t like you were the one who had suggested it. Tech had to know the likelihood that your “platonic sexual relationship” would only stay platonic for so long. Actually, you were surprised he hadn’t done a little more analysis of the situation. If he had taken into account all of the factors (the rate of failure in friends with benefits situations, each of your levels of emotionality and past relationships, the effects of living and working in close quarters, etc), you can’t imagine he would have thought it was a smart idea. If Tech had crunched the numbers like he normally would, it wouldn’t have produced favorable results. So for him to want to do it anyway, or to not even analyze it beforehand, must mean he had some sort of feelings for you, right?

This was one of the various problem in your current situation. Tech would always do things that were just on the line between “friends” and “more than friends”. He would go out of his way to do little things for you, he would share info and jokes and side comments with you that he never tried to share with brothers, he would blush when you complimented any of his work, he would stand just a little too close to you or let his touch linger just a little too long. He would suggest a sexual relationship that was highly statistically improbable to be successful.

And while Tech offered nothing but mixed signals, you took it a step further and let those mixed signals fester in your brain until you had warped them into one very clear signal: he liked you as more than a friend. You were so sure of it too. Why would he do all of those things if he didn’t like you like that? It’s not even like he treated you like some one night stand when he fucked you. He cared about making you feel good (usually it seemed like he cared more about you getting off than him), he would clean you up after and you always stayed the night together, cuddled and whispering late into the night about nothing and everything.

There was nothing friendly about your intimate nights together, come to think of it. Friends that just fucked would never treat each other so tenderly or lovingly. It’s not that completely unbelievable to think you would accidentally blurt out that you love him. Tech should have expected that.

But it was out there, unfortunately. You had committed the cardinal sin of being friends with benefits and you couldn’t take it back.

Tech’s brutal pace never faltered as he pumped in and out of you, your moans growing louder and louder as you began to approach your peak. He gazed down at you, locking eyes, and the emotion you could feel behind them was overwhelming. You could tell that he was close, with all the experience you had with him you knew his body better than your own, and he brought his hand up to softly caress your cheek.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I get to see you like this,” he huffed out, brow furrowing as the rhythmic slamming of his hips against you brought him closer and closer to the edge.

At his words, you reached your climax, and as you came undone words of ecstasy slipped from your lips between wails of pleasure.

“Kriff Tech… ah…. Tech..fuck…I love you”

You didn’t even realize it at first, too caught up in the moment, but Tech did. His eyes grew impossibly wide, and he was finishing inside you before either of you could fully process what you had just said.

As you both came down from your high, the gravity of your admission settled between you. Tech pulled out and flopped down next to you wordlessly, and for a few minutes you both just stared at the ceiling in torturous silence. And then he got up and walked to the refresher, not even looking at you once, and you felt like that was all the confirmation you needed that you woefully misinterpreted your entire relationship with him.

You lept out of his bunk, threw your clothes on, and left as silently as possible, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks. At least you could spare yourself the embarrassment of your words in that moment, and both of you could just forget it and move on.

Of course, you knew that pretending it didn’t happen would be impossible. You told him you loved him, and he said nothing. For several minutes. And then hid in the fresher. That was a clear rejection, and while it devastated you, you were still hoping that the two of you could just move on and be friends like you were before the benefits were added.

Apparently to Tech, you had offended him beyond repair. He never spoke to you (unless it was specifically mission oriented), he rarely looked at you or acknowledged your presence, and he positioned himself as far from you as possible at every opportunity. It had been two weeks since your slip up, and he hadn’t even made eye contact with you once.

It was agony. You missed him. You didn’t even really know what it was like to be on this squad without keeping him company while he made repairs or asking him questions about the next place you were going just to hear him talk. You missed making snide jokes with him. You missed admiring the way his goggles magnified his gorgeous caramel eyes.

The other boys noticed the shift very quickly. They had suspected the two of you had some sort of arrangement, and they knew how close you were, so to see it change so abruptly was concerning. Hunter had tried talking to you about it a few times, but you just reassured him that everything was fine and it was nothing he needed to worry about. Wrecker and Crosshair tried to pick up the slack, and started filling in the holes in your routine that Tech used to occupy. Crosshair would sit next to you in the mornings and during briefings, sometimes trying to make little comments in your ear like Tech would. On missions, Wrecker would always aim to pair up with you, and afterwards would try to do something fun like find a sweet treat or rent a good movie.

You appreciated so much what they did for you. But no matter how hard they tried, nothing could take your mind off the wall of ice Tech had built between you. You loved the other boys, but trying to share happy moments with them when all you could think about was how much better it would be with him was becoming unbearable. You didn’t want to leave them, but you couldn’t stay with Tech being so close to you and yet lightyears away.

As you filled out your transfer paperwork, you chuckled wryly to yourself. Even without the “trivial romance”, the squad was still disrupted. In a bittersweet way, it felt good for Tech to be wrong.

***

Tech had really done his best to analyze the evidence and make an informed decision based on his findings. He had been crunching his numbers with you since the day you joined the Batch, after all. Back then, it was the probability of your attraction to each of them. Tech was fascinated with you, and right off the bat he wanted to know his odds- just out of curiosity of course (for the record, they were pretty highly in his favor).

He knew there were pros and cons to the possibility of a relationship with you. First of all, it was technically against regulation for any clone to be involved in a romantic relationship. Second of all, it was likely that such a relationship would have the potential to cause countless rifts and points of weakness among his squad (regardless of the relationship’s success). Then there was also the very possible chance that the relationship wouldn’t work out anyway, leaving both of you hurt and irreparably damaging your friendship. As much as Tech may have wanted you, the costs unfortunately outweighed the benefits.

But then he kissed you at 79’s. And you kissed him back. And there he was, kissing you at 79’s, memorizing the sweetness of your lips on his. And he knew he should stop. He had studied the data and it’s conclusions were not very good, and if he had any sense at all he would stop. But he pulled away and looked at you, took in the flush on your cheeks and the dazed look accompanying your dilated pupils and the swell of your bruised lips. And he couldn’t bring himself to part ways with you. So he offered the closest thing to a relationship he could think of: friends with benefits.

A friends with benefits arrangement would be a more than adequate solution, Tech had decided. He could be physical with you in the proper moments, and then outside of those moments everything would be just as it was before. The squad’s dynamic and mission proficiency would remain consistent, and technically no regulations were being broken since they only specified romantic relationships. Of course, it wasn’t truly what he wanted, but in this arrangement he would get to enjoy you so much more than he currently was.

Unfortunately, he had made a critical oversight. In the dim haze of the club hallway, Tech had only considered how casual sex would compare to a full blown relationship. He didn’t think to analyze it singularly. And he certainly didn’t calculate the logistics of a friends with benefits agreement when one of the friends in question already had romantic feelings for the other friend.

But Tech knew himself. He knew he could have feelings for you and not let them get in the way. He could accept what he was able to have and make peace with what he couldn’t. Casual sex seemed like a good idea when his emotions were the only ones he took into account.

He wasn’t expecting you to fall in love with him.

When you had said it, Tech thought his heart was going to stop right then and there. In the heat of the moment, he couldn’t have imagined more precious words falling from your lips, and instantly it had him spiraling over the edge into ecstasy. But then the moment ended, and you didn’t say anything. He wanted to end the silence, to find out if you really meant it, but his brain was moving too fast to figure out what to say because he really hadn’t considered this would happen. It was naive of him, he supposed, but he really had thought the two of you could have done it without the emotional complications. Part of him, of course, was thrilled, but the other part of him, the logical part, was thrown into absolute chaos at the implications of your statement and what it would mean and all the statistics and probabilities he had calculated and

And you still hadn’t said anything. Tech could see you out of the corner of his eye, face red and chest heaving with emotion. You looked embarassed, regretful, and the realization that maybe you didn’t mean it hit him like a brick to the face. Maybe it was just something that slipped out, something your orgasm-addled mind had conjured up against your will and now you didn’t know how to take it back, didn’t know the right way to tell him you don’t actually love him.

It was too much for him to process at once, and he ran to the refresher in the hopes that he could clear his head and actually think coherently about the situation for a moment. Tech couldn’t have been in there long, maybe a few minutes, just long enough to splash some water on his face, look himself in the eye, and come to the conclusion that he needed to just have a conversation with you instead of playing with hypothetical numbers in his head. But then he came back out and you were gone, and that seemed like all the answer he needed. You didn’t mean it.

That was good, right? You didn’t mean it, and the two of you could keep going the way you had been.

But the ache in Tech’s heart said otherwise. You didn’t love him. He loved you, he knew he did, and he could be ok with pretending he didn’t when he didn’t know how you felt. But he knew now. And it hurt.

It hurt everytime he talked to you, so he stopped talking to you. It hurt everytime he was near you, so he stopped being near you. It hurt everytime he looked at you, so he stopped looking. The squad’s performance hadn’t been altered, so Tech concluded that the awkwardness could be tolerated until your presence didn’t feel so much like a blaster shot to his chest.

But just like pretty much every other choice Tech had made in regards to you, that plan only worked until it backfired horrifically.

***

The Batch were back on Kamino in between missions. Tech had been vaguely aware of Hunter being called in to a meeting of some sort, but he offered his full attention as Hunter stormed back into their room and huffed his way to Tech’s workbench.

“I don’t know what you did, but you need to fix things with Y/N. Now”

At the mention of your name, Tech pretended to return to his work, fiddling with a tool and avoiding eye contact.

“I do not know what you are referring-“

“Like hell you don’t Tech! The two of you haven’t even looked at each other in weeks and now they’ve put in a request to be transferred to another unit, so don’t tell me there’s nothing going on between you.”

Tech shot up, tools abandoned and stool knocked over with the force of his standing.

“They requested a transfer?”

“Yeah, they did. Now, I don’t know what happened, but I know your little silent treatment has been hurting them a lot. I don’t want to see them go, and you don’t either. So go talk to them and fix it, or I’ll have you transferred instead,” Hunter ordered, finger pointed at Tech’s chest. The threat was empty, of course, but it had fallen on deaf ears regardless.

Tech all but sprinted out into the hall, desperate to change your mind before you left them for good. As much as it pained him to be near you, the thought of being without you was somehow so much worse. He reached your quarters and unceremoniously burst in, barely giving the doors enough time to slide open before he was moving past them.

You jumped at his sudden entrance, hand coming up to clutch your chest.

“Maker, Tech you scared me!”

“Please don’t leave”

You stared at him, taking in his appearance for the first time. His chest was heaving, like he’d just run a marathon, and his eyes were frantic and impossibly wide behind his goggles. You didn’t think you’d ever seen him so disheveled, even when you’d slept with him.

You wanted to look away, but you were conscious of the fact that this was the first time you had made eye contact in Maker knows how long and you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Tech, I-I can’t stay with the way things are. I’m sorry about what I said, I know it was just supposed to be a friend thing and I shouldn’t have fallen in love with you. I really tried not to, but I did and I ruined everything and you can’t even look at me anymore so how can I-“

Tech took step closer, cutting off your rambling as his brow furrowed.

“You fell in love with me?”

He spoke so quietly, it was barely above a whisper. You nodded, confused at his surprised considering the whole issue was that you told him you loved him and he didn’t feel the same. That was the issue, right?

You could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears as he tried to process what was happening.

“I thought… I thought you didn’t mean it”

Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Why would you think that?”

“Y-you didn’t say anything. You confessed your affections for me while in a compromised state and didn’t say anything else afterwards. Your body language indicated regret and-and you left. I concluded that you said it by accident, and did not actually mean it,” he explained as calmly as he could in his rattled state.

“I left because I told you I loved you and you locked yourself in the fresher! And then you wouldn’t talk to me so I figured you were mad at me because I have feelings for you and you don’t feel the same way!”

Tech’s face broke out in a huge grin, and just as you were about to ask him why he was so happy all of a sudden, he rushed forward and passionately slotted his lips against yours. You gasped into him before immediately reciprocating the kiss, and you tangled your hands in his hair as his fingers desperately clutched your hips. Of all the kisses you had shared with him, none had felt the way this one did. There was an emotion pouring into it, one that had always been on the verge of spilling over but never had before. Eventually you broke apart, and you cursed your lungs for needing air.

He leaned his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath, and broke the silence after a few moments.

“I love you, too. I have for a significant amount of time. When you left that night, I incorrectly assumed you did not share my affections. I avoided you after because I… I was hurt. I apologize for misinterpreting your actions, and for allowing you to think that I was upset with you. I assure you, that could not be further from reality.”

You laughed giddily, bumping his nose with yours as you relished in his confession.

“If you loved me, why did you just want to be friends with benefits?”

Tech blushed and look down, a sheepish look overtaking his features.

“Well, I performed a cost-benefit analysis on engaging in a romantic relationship, and the potential complications were too great. A platonic sexual partnership offered a less risky alternative. Although, I must admit that I failed to properly calculate the possible outcomes of such an agreement between two individuals in our specific situation,” he elaborated.

“We might be the two dumbest people in the galaxy,” you joked with a giggle.

“Technically, it is statistically impossible for that to be true, given-“

You cut him off with another deep kiss, your hands coming to rest on his arms as they kept you in his iron-clad grip. He had never loosened his hold, as though he thought if he let you go, you would disappear.

Abruptly, the kiss ended as Tech pulled back slightly to look at you.

“Does this mean you are no longer transferring out of our squad?”

You grinned.

“That depends. Does this mean we can have a real relationship, not just sex?”

Tech brought one hand to rest on his jaw as he looked upwards and pretended to be deep in thought.

“Well, according to my calculations, we have already experienced nearly all of the possible complications of pursuing a romantic relationship, so I have no objection to enjoying some of the benefits,” he concluded with a playful smile.

You leaned up to kiss him again, pausing just before your lips made contact with his to make a sly comment.

“And we know how good we are at some of those benefits already”

[watchmegetobsessed]

PAPER-THIN WALLS

a/n: i woke up totally in themood to write just straight up smut... and that's what i did lmao. there's not much plot in it, just a whole lot of fucking, so enjoy!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: sexual content, unprotected sex, oral, the good stuff

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

The Avengers compound was built almost perfectly with its luxurious suits, several entertainment rooms, fully equipped training areas and millions of hidden snack and drink bars all across the building. But the stress this time is on almost.

Bucky was never sure if the walls were originally built to keep less noise than in any other buildings, or if it was just his super hearing that allowed him to catch conversations and noises that weren’t meant for his ears. He would often hear gossiping agents as he walked down the hallways, or Vision and Wanda talk about recipes and TV shows in her room and there was this one time he heard Nat and Bruce have a discussion that was surely not meant to be heard by anyone but the two of them. He is still trying to get rid of the words he heard.

Having a room next to yours, he often sat on his bed, hearing you shuffling around, humming to yourself. As the latest addition to the Avengers, you felt a little out of place at the compound, like you were a stranger to the team even though they never gave you a reason to think so. This feeling of not belonging is what brought you closer to the century old super soldier on the other side of the wall, who despite being free from the claws of Hydra finally, still felt like an outsider in the superhero filled complex. Bucky always thought he was hard to make friends with, but he had to realize that it was all about who he was trying to make friends with. Because with you, it was an instant, like he had known you his whole life, you’ve definitely become one of the closest people to his heart in a very short time.

With this friendship came some undeniable feelings and tension from Bucky’s part. He couldn’t help but fall for you, how couldn’t he? He would have been surprised if it didn’t happen, after spending so much time with you. He found himself craving your presence, to be with you, talk to you and listen to you at the same time. He was a sucker for your lame jokes that he would laugh at even if they weren’t that funny. He loved your enthusiasm whenever you brought a new book and basically told him the whole plot, spoiling the story, but he never minded, because the way you rambled in excitement made up for everything.

And of course, he has been attracted to you since day one. Even when you weren’t that close, he couldn’t deny how much it affected him when he saw you spar with Steve at the gym in just some tight shorts and a sports bra, or when you linger around in the kitchen early in the morning wearing only an oversized shirt and your underwear hidden under the long fabric. It stirred his fantasies that’ve been sleeping for decades and late at night, when he was lying in his bed restless, his vibranium hand firmly curling around his erection, he thought about you. How you’d taste and feel, what it would be like to have your body pressed against his, his name falling from your lips in a whimper as he pleases you all over and over again. Sometimes he felt dirty after an elaborate fantasy, barely able to look into your eyes, but he just couldn’t help it. You had him in the palm of your hand.

What he doesn’t know is that he is not the only one with fantasies and desires. Because on the other side of the wall, you’ve often found yourself craving the mixture of warm and cold touch from flesh and metal hands, toned muscles flexing under your palms, pink lips whispering into your ears as you arch against his body… Bucky has been living in your mind rent free and you’ve been having a hard time containing your desire for the super soldier.

Having sex dreams is not at all a new thing for you. It happens every once in a while, waking from a heated scene only to find yourself alone in the comfort of your room, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin as you try to bring yourself back to reality. It was never an inconvenience, but in the past few days it’s been getting worse. You’ve had a wet dream for three days in a row, jolting awake right when you were about to climax, a wave of disappointment washing over your body as you fisted the sheets in your sweaty palms. And the worst part? All of them have been about Bucky.

It’s another sleepless night for Bucky, nothing new. He has tried to chase himself into sleep with everything already, TV, ready, music, even counting sheep, but nothing seems to be working, so he is left with lying in his bed, staring at the blank ceiling, the soft bed sheet throw across his naked upper body, only wearing a pair of boxer briefs, because it’s been hot these past week, but he is not a fan of using the air-condition. The dogtags are lying messily on his naked chest, his vibranium finger playing with the wrinkles of the sheets mindlessly.

His eyes slowly flutter closed, a promise of some rest finally nearing the corner, but right just then, he hears some muffled noise coming from the other side of the wall. His eyes snap open as he sits up, trying to make out what it is, but he catches no words, just… grunts and some shallow panting, as if someone was struggling.

What if you’re sick and something is wrong? You’ve been a little worn off the past days, maybe something was lingering in you.

Kicking the sheets off of himself, he pads his way to the door, his bare feet tapping on the hardwood floor as he walks out of his room, heading to yours, stopping at the door. Pressing his flesh hand to the door he takes a moment to listen to the voices so he can make out what’s happening, but it really feels like you’re in a struggle, but he has no idea why. Knocking lightly on the door he hopes to get an answer, but nothing of sort comes and he stays still, debating whether he should go in or just leave. Right when he is about to retreat he hears you gasping, as if you’re at a short of breath and it pushes him to check in on you.

Opening the door he pops his head inside, the darkness fully taking up the room, your king sized bed in the middle, a few strikes of moonlight sneaking through the curtains that are not entirely drawn.

“Y/N?” he calls out softly, not wanting to startle you, but no answer comes once again, however he can see your figure tossing and turning under the sheets, another gasp slipping through your lips.

He walks closer, stopping at your bedside, seeing how your eyebrows are pulled together tensely, chest heaving as you keep moving around. Bucky feels like an intruder, you’re definitely asleep, probably having a nightmare, but he is not sure if he should be in here. Should he wake you? Or just leave? Would you be mad if you found him here upon waking up? After some hesitation he decides it’s better if he leaves, but right as he turns around, taking just one step towards the door, he finally hears a word from you.

“Bucky,” you whine, his name coming out a little slurred, but still clear to him. “Bucky, please!” you continue, his eyes widening as his head snaps around, eyes returning to you. You’re still asleep, but he notices your hand moving down your chest and then disappearing under the sheets, between your legs. That’s when he realizes that it’s not a nightmare. You’re having a sex dream about him.

Clearly trying to chase your release, your lips part as you moan, the voice instantly making Bucky’s cock twitch while hardening. His hands curl into fists as he is fighting himself whether he should do something or leave, but when his name slips through your lips again, he goes feral. He would be damned if he lets you get stuck in your dream when he can please you in real life.

He finds himself striding back to your bed faster like ever, like an elegant lion, hungry for his prey as one of his knees sink into the mattress between your open legs, keeping his weight up on one arm while the other finds your waist. The shirt you always sleep in has ridden up to just below your breasts, the exposed skin watering Bucky’s mouth as he squeezes your waist gently but firmly enough to wake you from your fever dream.

Your eyes snap open and you stare up at him slack-mouthed, your brain barely able to process the sudden change between the Bucky in your dream and the one holding himself up above you in real life.

“Bucky? I—“ you breathe out, the cloud of confusion on your head making it hard to even form a sentence. He leans down, his face just inches away from yours and even though it’s quite dark, his blue eyes are basically piercing. His dogtags fall to your chest, right above your wildly racing heart and you wonder if he can hear the pounding in your ribcage.

“Shh, I’m gonna take care of you,” he whispers and without a warning, his lips crash down onto yours.

It’s so hard and passionate, filled with hunger and longing, the air gets knocked right out of your chest as you eagerly kiss him back while he slowly moves himself until he is fully between your legs, his hips coming down to meet yours and you moan when you feel his erection pressing against your already soaking wet core. Your hands find their way up into his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and he can’t stop himself from growling at your action, grinding himself against your hips, both of you desperate to take it further.

Pushing himself up into a kneeling position, he grabs your panties and tugs them down your bare legs, throwing them across the room before he rids you from your shirt as well, so now you’re lying completely naked in front of his lustful eyes. He could devour you with just his icy blue eyes, he looks glorious, towering above you with his broad, muscular shoulders and toned chest, you’ve never been more desperate for a man before.

Your desire takes action, pushing yourself up your lips meet his chest, kissing the hot skin, your tongue sloppily pressing against him as you make your way up on his body. His vibranium fingers tangle into your hair as he holds the back of your head, pulling you up to kiss you again, both of you in a kneeling position while your hand reaches into his underwear, palming his hard cock, feeling up his size before you push the fabric down and he kicks it off easily, his erection now pressed between the two of you teasing and tempting you, making you buck your hips forward just for the slightest friction.

“Were you dreaming of me, doll? Huh?” he questions, his lips nibbling on your lower lip as he takes it between his teeth and gently tugs on it.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, hands grabbing onto his hips before they move down to his bare ass, pulling him closer to you, earning a moan from him.

“And what was I doing in your dream?” He kisses down your neck, stopping at a soft spot before he starts sucking and biting on it, marking you as his, something he’s been aching to do since the moment he laid eyes on you for the first time. Your brain almost shuts down, one of his hands is on your jaw, keeping your head in place, while the other one is gripping your waist harshly, his fingers digging into your muscles. You fail to answer his question as just a whimper leaves your lips at the sensation.

“Words, sweetheart. Use your words for me, will you?”

“I, uhh—You used your f-fingers,” you croak out, a satisfied grin tugging on Bucky’s lips at your words.

He pushes you back on the bed, making you lie on your back as he gets on top of you once again, but this time he doesn’t stay like that long, after a hard kiss he climbs down until his face aligns with your core, his hands parting your legs widely, baring you to him fully.

“Tell me, where did I use my fingers?” he hums, face so close to your center that you can feel his hot breath on you. He teases you, running his hands up and down your spread thighs, his fingers just grazing your folds before moving away every time.

“Bucky, please!” you cry out, grinding your hips up, but you only reach his chin before he leans back with a pleased grin on his face.

“Just tell me and I’ll do it. Where did I use my fingers?” he repeats.

“On my pussy! You fingered me!” you groan, your cheeks heating up from the blunt comment you just made, but it’s exactly what Bucky wanted to hear.

Two of his fingers find your clit easily, starting off with slowly drawing circles on it, stimulating your nerves and it’s nothing like in your dream. You curse under your breath when his fingers move to your hole and he pushes both of them inside, his lips taking their place on your clit.

“Oh fuck!” you groan in pleasure, your hands immediately snapping to his head, fingers lacing into his chocolate locks as you shamelessly grind against his face.

Bucky is not a man of many words, but god damn, he can use his mouth like a fucking master. It feels like your whole body is on fire, you’re sweating and shaking, his fingers curl inside you every time he thrusts into you and he is stroking that one heavenly spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back into your head. His tongue is slick and sloppy against your wet pussy, but he is drinking it all up as if you were his last meal before death.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum! Bucky!” you gasp as your back arches at the sensation, your orgasm building up rapidly.

“Cum on my tongue and fingers, let me make your dream come true,” he growls against your heat, picking up the pace of his fingers which completely throws you over the edge.

You come with chanting his name over and over again as you ride your high, thighs shaking and tightening on either side of his head until you’re finally able to catch your breath.

Bucky pushes himself up, his lips glistening from your juices and you watch him wipe his mouth with his fingers, licking them afterwards like he just finished eating a chocolate cake, a satisfied grin on his ridiculously handsome face. He crawls up on you until his lips can finally reach yours again, kissing you in a slower pace, but still with a lot of passion to offer.

“Tonight wasn’t my first sex dream about you,” you slyly admit, lips brushing against his as you speak.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm, so there’s more to act out.” His still hard cock twitches again and you’re fast to reach down and palm him again, wrapping a hand around him as you give his cock a few lazy stokes, but it surely has an effect on him.

You’re quick to turn him over, pushing him to lie on his back as you straddle him, steading yourself with holding onto his waist, his eyes bore into yours intently and your mouth hangs open when you grind against him, his hard cock sliding between your wet folds.

“The other day, I dreamed about riding you, your cock filled me up so good, but right when I was about to cum I woke up,” you tell him, not sure how this sudden confidence came from, but you just can’t help yourself. Bucky growls at your words as his fingers dig into your thighs.

“Then let’s make up for that, love,” he breathes out and you nod eagerly, lifting yourself up just enough to position him to your hole and then you sink down as far as you can, his dick filling you up inch by inch and your breath hitches when you finally settle, his length fully buried inside you.

“Oh, fuck!” you whine before you start moving yourself up and down his cock, grinding back and forth, the feeling of him inside you so intoxicating, you think for a moment that this might still be your dream. If it is, you hope you don’t wake up this time.

Though your training has strengthened your legs so you are able to ride him in this position longer, it still tires you out. Bucky notices when your movements slow down, his hands running up your torso, kneading your breasts before they end up on the back of your neck, pulling you down so you lie on top of him, his strong arms wrapping around you. His lips kiss the side of your head before he starts thrusting up into you, doing the work for you this time. You can’t stop yourself from moaning and whimpering as your second orgasm is starting to build up, your senses are on the edge.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close,” he gasps, his thrusts becoming a little uncoordinated and you feel the same way, only moments away from your climax.

You push yourself up, pulling him with you, wanting to take back control before you both reach your relief, you get into a sitting position that allows you to grind in his lap, moving your hips back and forth as fast as you can. Bucky’s lips find yours again, kissing your sloppily before they travel down your neck and he licks at your collarbone as you hold onto his broad shoulders.

“You feel so fucking good, oh God!” he whines, his head falling backwards as you keep moving, both of you sweating, but neither of you really cares, you’re just relentlessly chasing your high again.

“I want to feel you cum. Please, Bucky!” you beg him, squeezing your walls around him, the action completely maddening the man as he holds you to his chest and flips you over with ease, his body weighing down on you as he starts fucking into you fast and hard. You could throw a fuss about how he took control again, but you don’t mind it, not at all. Because the way he pounds into you, his cock disappearing to the last inch inside you with each thrust, your whole body starts shaking as your orgasm finally reaches you.

Your squeeze your walls again around him and the moment he hears his name fall from your trembling lips he cums inside of you, filling you up entirely, marking you with his pleasure.

He rides his high with a few more sloppy thrusts until he stops, his forehead falling against yours as you both try to catch your breath. He captures your lips in a soft and slow kiss, so different from the ones you shared before. Then he finally rolls off of you and you let out a displeased grunt when you feel him slide out of you.

For a while it’s just the silence in the room mixed with your soft panting, but he is the first one to break it as his head rolls to the side, looking at you with those fucked-out eyes of his.

“How long have you been having these dreams?” he asks, turning to his side so his hand can spread out on your naked stomach, fingers drawing tiny circles on your sweaty skin.

“A while,” you admit.

“I wish I heard you earlier through the wall,” he chuckles, but your eyes widen.

“Wait, what? You heard me through the wall?”

“Yeah. Thought something was wrong so I came over to check on you.”

“God, I must have been really loud,” you laugh, covering your face with your hands, but he is quick to peel them off and leaning closer he kisses your lips gently.

“Don’t blame yourself, these walls are like paper. And besides…” A sly smirk tugs on his lips as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb running along the line of your bottom lip. “I fucking love it when you’re loud.”

“I wasn’t even screaming yet,” you tease back, your comment definitely catching him off-guard, but he likes it.

“We’ll get there next time.”

You and Bucky walk into the kitchen in the morning, completely oblivious to the rest of the world, still in the bliss of last night. Nat, Tony and Steve are sitting at the kitchen island, sipping on their morning coffee when you emerge from your room, all eyes immediately glued to the pair of you.

“Well, good morning, everyone,” you chuckle a little nervously, not sure what the stares mean.

“Morning,” Nat smirks, shaking her head before she turns back to the newspaper unfolded in front of her.

“Nice of you to make an appearance, I have some news to share with you all,” Tony announces as you pour some coffee for yourself while Bucky grabs everything he needs to make breakfast for the two of you. Nodding you signal to Tony that you’re listening. “I decided to do some remodeling on the compound.”

“Oh, what are you getting done?” you ask, wondering what could possibly need work on the building.

“Nothing major, I’m just gonna make the walls soundproof, so we don’t have to listen to you guys fucking all night long.”

You almost choke on your coffee at Tony’s blunt comment, cheeks heating up right away, you were not expecting that. Though he is looking at you and Bucky, who is now standing behind you with a hand on your waist, with a stern expression, you can see the small smile hiding in his eyes. He finds the situation rather amusing instead of annoying.

“Yeah, next time maybe keep it down a little,” Steve suggests as he stands from his seat, grabbing his mug. Walking past the two of you, he pats Bucky’s shoulder however. “But I’m glad you guys are finally getting it on,” he comments before walking out, Nat and Tony following him right after, leaving just you and Bucky in the kitchen.

You glance up at him with concern in your eyes, teeth sinking into your bottom lip, but he doesn’t seem to be ashamed at all. Instead, he leans down, pecks your lips shortly and then whispers:

“I told you. Paper-thin walls.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[creativeashproductions]

Change of Scenery // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Captain Bobby Nash has kept a secret from his friends, his wife and his step children since 2015 when he came to LA. Bobby’s eldest and only surviving child comes to LA to reconcile and make amends all the while she catches the eye of a certain blue eyed firefighter.

Warnings: Swearing, death/familial loss, pregnancy, blood, angst, injuries/medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 8k

A/N: Back at it with another 9-1-1 fic. Hope you enjoy, and I may just have to do another crossover with 9-1-1 and Julie and the Phantoms.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

There are moments in our lives that define us, whether it can be known as a positive or negative, but the outcome is always the same. A six-letter word that strikes fear and excitement into the souls of humans is change. The fear can be for ourselves or as a result of a child, a sibling, or a parent branching out on their own. Unfortunately, you had gone through a harsh and cruel experience on a cold winter night in the city you grew up in.

A typical Thursday filled with classes at the college you attended in Minnesota on a scholarship, nothing out of the ordinary. The plan had been to drive to your parents’ apartment to catch up with them for the weekend. Saturday morning was already reserved for a girls day with your little sister Brook and your mom. In the afternoon, you’d promised to take your brother Bobby to the ball diamond.

Your bag was packed, the plan to drive straight from class to St. Paul the following day to arrive in the daylight. Your dad struggled with worry when it came to you driving in the dark and especially in winter with icy roads.

“Y/N!” Dottie screeched from the living room of the four-bedroom dormitory. The pretty and curvy brunette had been the first friend you made in college.

Typically Dottie was on the quieter side, so when she screamed, you practically sprinted to the girl.

“Where’s the fire?” You demanded with a smirk at the reference to a topic that was a constant in your family. 

The fire drills your father conducted every four months for an exit plan in case of a fire and general information to save yourselves. He had also trained you to remember fire hazards and how to call dispatch with clear information if that time ever came. It never did and hopefully never would.

“The Lakeview Apartments in St. Paul.” Dottie’s dark brown eyes spoke only of pity and concern. The five foot ten roommate literally caught you as you tumbled into her arms with a loud grief-stricken scream.

You were forever indebted to the brunette for the plans she sacrificed to drive you back to St. Paul. There was absolutely no chance Dottie would allow you to both drive and be alone with no news. The media hadn’t released the names of the 148 deaths the fire relentlessly tore from the land of the living.

“I want to prepare you for what you’ll see. Your mother suffered severe third-degree burns over the majority of her body.” The kind nurse, also one of your friend’s parent, explained as she guided you to the Burn Center in the Regions Hospital, “I don’t want to lie and tell you she’ll be fine. You’re an adult Y/N. You deserve the truth and not be coddled.”

“Is she gonna survive?” You quietly asked, “Has she woken up since she was brought in?”

“The doctor placed her on a high dosage of morphine for the pain. Your father hasn’t left her side.” Lucinda informed you with sympathy written as over her face, The hazel eyes unable to adequately meet yours.

“I’ll check on her, then could you take me to the rooms my siblings are in?” You asked, completely unaware Brook and Bobby had been DOA at the hospital.

Your father hadn’t answered the text messages or the voicemails you had left on his phone—radio silent. You couldn’t be mad when he was with your mom, but a text would have been nice.

“This is where your mother is staying for the unforeseeable future. If you need anything, you can call me.” Lucinda softly replied before turning her heel to head back to the Burn Centre’s front desk.

It was horrific walking into a room with no idea if the occupant who had raised you would survive. The confident, gorgeous mother you had for the past nineteen years was unfamiliar to you, the extensive gauze covering nearly every inch of her body. You almost couldn’t even recognize the man sitting in the chair with his hands wrapped. 

“Dad? What happened?” You questioned the grieving man. The only person left in your family as you would soon come to know.

“Y/N?” Bobby gasped, pushing himself to his feet, staring at his only living child. The guilt ate at him just staring at you with those light brown eyes, “Oh, sweetheart.”

Your dad crossed the room in a few steps. The scent of smoke was still clinging to every part of him, but it was fine. Your dad was okay, minus the wounds on his hands. You’d always been closer with your father than your mother.

“Dad, what happened?” You quietly asked the ashamed firefighter that had to reconcile his feelings on the fire and his career—that struggle ending up pushing you away when he really just wanted you as close as possible.

“The building caught on fire after an ember from a heater lit a blanket on fire,” Bobby informed you with his eyes pinned on his wife. Bobby knew the chances of Marcy surviving were incredibly low, and he had to tell you that.

Bobby only knew the details passed on from a firefighter who pitied the man who’d lost most of his family. 

“Is Mom gonna be okay?” You questioned, and the said injured woman in the bed weakly responded.

“Baby?” Marcy quietly questioned from her absolutely still position on the hospital bed, “Uh, Bobby.”

You left your father’s side to be as close to your mom as possible, with the clear plastic separating you for her safety. Your heart shattered at the sheer exhaustion in her pretty blue eyes. 

“Hi, Mom.” You shakily spoke with one hand lightly pressed against the plastic divider. You didn’t even notice when your dad stepped up too.

“Marcy?” Bobby called out from right beside you, just as torn up, but Bobby carried extra weight on his shoulders, “We’re right here, Marcy. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

The muffled grunt of pain, your mom’s attempt to save you from grief, Marcy let out as she turned her head to look at you. You knew deep in your gut that this was the time place you would see your mom alive. And by the look in her eyes, she knew too.

“The...kids…?” Your mom’s breathing became more erratic as she questioned the man she viewed as her hero. The man she believed had saved her and their youngest children, “Where...are they?”

“The kids are fine.” The way your father said it and the tears led to the knowledge once kept from you.

“No.” You whispered, seeing the total grief written clear on his face. The pain meds and agony kept your mom from knowing the truth.

“They’re safe.”

“I knew you’d come and save us.” Your mom breathed as her eyes started hiding the pretty blue you’d now only see in pictures. In your dreams, until even those faded as father time cruelly pulled you along.

Then your worst nightmare happened. You watched as the woman you looked up to flatlined with the thought of her children safe. You’d always know she’d held on just long enough to find out the state of her children. You could only hope she’d forgive your father for lying to her as she died.

“Mom!” You screamed, fighting the arms of an orderly restraining you. You barely noticed the resistance to your frantic attempts.

One minute you were staring at a team unsuccessfully trying to revive your long-gone mother, then you were in a hotel room. The atmosphere tense and quiet between father and daughter, with the ghost of your dead family to keep you both company. You could hear Brook gagging every time you’d kissed your now ex. You could see Bobby toddling after you years ago.

At least you had your father—a father whose guilt festered until he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“It was my fault.” He murmured, staring at the barely eaten burger that tasted solely just cardboard. He couldn’t bear to look at your face, “I didn’t mean to leave it on.”

Your head snapped to stare at him in disbelief, “What do you mean you didn’t mean to leave it on?”

“I-I went to the roof to sleep after your mom kicked me out. I didn’t have my keys to the apartment I had below ours.” Bobby began spilling the lies he’d told to you about his addictions. Of the apartment, you’d had no clue was even in his possessions.

The pain of losing your family tore into you, “You took my mom away from me. I’ll never get to share my wedding day with her. Shopping for a dress and gossiping about boys. I’ll never be able to wipe Brook’s tears during her first heartbreak.”

Each word broke Bobby more and more.

“You stole my future. You’re selfish, ungrateful and utterly pathetic. You cost so many people so much, all because you sought out your next high.” You spat, glaring at someone you’d never expected to hurt you. You didn’t notice your hands grabbing your possessions nor opening the hotel room door, “You couldn’t even properly try to get clean.”

“Y/N-”

“Get your shit together before you kill anyone else. I never want to see you again.” You sobbed with regret already festering in your body, but pride held you back from apologizing.

Upon your return to your dorm with Dottie by your side, you immediately began the process to enter an exchange program. Within a month, your feet entered Sydney Airport. You didn’t return to America for several years.

You took a job as a casual lifeguard on Bondi Beach, met Lucas in a meet-cute situation at the grocery store. You graduated college and found a job as a paramedic as you began becoming a flight paramedic. In 2020 Lucas and you discovered you’d be bringing in a little baby into the world.

Learning about your little Cashew growing safe in your womb fanned the flame of desire to reconcile. Ultimately the pride kept pushing the urge to apologize for the cruel words you told your father further away. You naively believed you had all the time in the world.  

Remember the six-letter scary word? If losing your mom, siblings, and father was a devastating blow, losing Lucas was nearly tied. Your little Cashew lost their father before they even got to meet him. That was push enough to pack up your home and fly back to America with your father’s new address as soon as you could.

In the fallout of the apartment fire, your father relocated from Minnesota to Los Angeles. 

Los Angeles, 2020

As soon as you’d found the nicest but cheapest hotel to stay in until you found a place, you walked the streets of LA. The first order of business of approaching your father at his workplace as you had no personal address. Residing still in Minnesota, Deputy Chief Evans had only given you the address of Bobby’s work.

You could only hope Bobby wouldn’t turn you away. That he was willing to bridge the gap, you’d widened over the years. That he could forgive the silence to each email, he sent when you changed numbers.

“We should go out to dinner.” The female voice was what brought you back to the present time. The woman was beautiful with her buzzed head and clear skin.

Right by her side was a dark-haired male of Asian ethnicity with a bag thrown over his shoulder, “If you’re paying, you bet I’ll be there.”

The two continued to converse in their own world until the man had to literally dodge you when they finally noticed you.

“Does Chief Bobby Nash work here?” You inquired, having no desire to enter small talk when the baby was sitting on your bladder again. You nearly retched when the man stared down at your swollen midsection, shocked, “It’s not his baby.”

Hen caught the evident disgust on your face, “He’s in his office. I’ll guide you there…”

“Y/N.” You supplied the firefighter. Hen smiled in response, “And your name is…”

“Henrietta Wilson, but you can call me Hen. That was Howard Han. He goes by Chimney, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy on the name.” Hen chuckled in her steps to the closed door of the fire chief. Hen swiftly knocked on the door to give Bobby a heads up.

“Come in!” Bobby called from his pile of paperwork he had pushed and waited to work on. It had slipped as the date came closer. Your twenty-seventh birthday, the seventh one since he last saw you.

“Cap, a woman is asking for you,” Hen told her friend and boss. It’s a good thing you didn’t choose to surprise your father because Hen was shorted, and your bump made manoeuvring around tricky.

“What can I do…” Bobby trailed off when he saw the girl waiting to talk to him. The pen in his hand dropped to the table in shock.

Hen glanced between the two equally taken aback individuals, “Am I missing something here?”

“Hey, dad.” You whispered to the man who’d been dreaming of this moment since the minute you left. He’d searched for you at your previous college and nearly made a missing person report.

“Dad?” Hen couldn’t pick her jaw up from the floor if she even wanted to because this was juicy information. Sure, Bobby had caved into telling his team, his family that he’d lost his wife and two children in a fire.

He rarely talked about his life before the 118, but he’d never mentioned having a surviving daughter. Not in the handful of times he’d talked about the tragedy, nor did he have any objects or photos of you. 

“You’re really here?” Bobby lightly chuckled with a twinkle in his eye. Hen had only seen a handful of times. All of them had Athena in the scene, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” You beamed, stepping closer to the man you’d missed dearly, “I’m so sorry for the way I left. What I said was cruel and untrue. You aren’t selfish, and I can’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

Bobby grinned. He’d stepped around his desk only to halt when he took in an undeniable development—the baby bump you carried.

“Is-”

“I’m pregnant. Six months along with a baby girl.” You laughed to the apparent disbelief in your father’s light brown eyes. His gaze continued to shift between the bump and your e/c eyes.

“Wow. Sorry, this is...wow.” 

“She’s one of the reasons I wanted to come back. To fix our relationship because I want her to know her grandpa. You’re the only grandparent Poppy will know.” Bobby was quick to tug you into his arms as soon as the first tear dropped down your cheek.

There was so much you wanted to tell your father, but that overwhelming grief rose higher. You’d left Australia where Lucas laid in a plot in a cemetery. You left the friends you’d found in the city. Left the lifeguard job you’d come to love.

“Where are you and your partner staying?”

“He...uh...Lucas passed away recently.”

The arms holding you tightened in response to your confession, “Oh sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know where else to go. I can’t stay in the home we bought. Not the place he died when I couldn’t save him.”

“I don’t know what happened, but it wasn’-”

“Don’t coddle me. I was...am a paramedic. A flight paramedic, to be specific, so I know that my hesitation could be the reason he died.”

Your career took the father by complete and utter surprise because you’d always planned on a different job. Before the fire that claimed so many lives, you’d never entertained a career in the emergency field.

“We have a lot to catch up on. First, you need to know that I’ll always love your mother no matter what, but you need to know. I met someone when I first moved here, and we were friends at first. She divorced her husband. We started dating...sweetheart, I remarried.”

A wave of emotions flared in your chest, from betrayal to sadness and ultimately happiness. Having lost your first love, you understood and knew if love came around for you, you wouldn’t ignore it. Lucas wouldn’t want that.

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

Re-entering into Bobby’s new life was a difficult adjustment for everyone included. Tension had risen between Athena and Bobby for a brief period. Athena hadn’t even been aware of your existence, but she could fault Bobby. Athena had even told her first husband about her late fiance Emmett when they were still together.

It was difficult for you with the new addition of two step-siblings in the same birth order as Brook and Bobby had been. The Grant siblings had welcomed you into the family without any reservations.

“Did you ever get to fly the chopper?” Harry asked as he scrubbed the dirty dish from the Sunday family dinner. 

It was the first dinner that had no awkward tension since you arrived back in the country. Athena had taken a bit to warm up, but it was nothing personal. She’d actually been the one to find you you’d been staying at a hotel. Mama Athena did not like her pregnant step-daughter living at a hotel. She’d actually stormed your room with Hen and Karen as back up to pack your room and leave for the Grant-Nash house.

“No. I had to help keep the patients alive. If I’m telling the truth...sometimes I didn’t even notice I was in the air.” You whispered to your stepbrother. He was just invested in your career as he had been when Bobby first entered their lives.

“That is so cool!” Harry enthused with soap suds splashing your thin knitted sweater. Harry’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when you flicked water onto his face in retaliation.

“Do you know Bondi Beach in Australia?” You inquired the youth with the chore of dishes completed.

“Yeah! There’s a tv show called Bondi Rescue! I watch the clips on YouTube!” Harry exclaimed, hot on your heels to the couch. Out of May and Harry, he followed you around with questions about your life in Australia.

“I was a casual lifeguard. I’m not featured on that show, but I would get called in when a lifeguard was needed. It paired well with my job as a flight paramedic.” You half-smiled, remembering the Bondi lifeguards who had welcomed you into the family. You became one of them when they started pranking you.

“Did you ever see a shark-”

“Harry, go brush your teeth. Leave Y/N alone.” Athena informed her youngest from the open patio doors. Your father, Athena and May had been outside as soon as the table had been cleared.

“But-”

“Harry,” Athena warned the youngest Grant. Harry didn’t attempt to argue with his stern mother; all he did was hug you quickly. You watched the young boy disappear into the hallway.

“He reminds you of your little brother?” Athena questioned. In your time of reminiscing, the older woman had settled in Harry’s previous position.

“A little.” You whispered, “Thank you for welcoming me into the family. For making my dad happy.”

“You know I may have some baby clothes put away if you’d like to use them?” Athena offered with that smile that made you feel at home. Athena was far different from your late mother, with her presence commanding respect and intelligence. Your mom was similar, but I suppose it could be described as a softer touch.

“Anyway, saving a penny is appreciated. I have a question for you also.” You hesitantly started with a bundle of nerves deep in your belly. Athena turned to give you her full attention.

“Well? Out with it.” Athena pushed, but she had a slight feeling of what you were about to ask her.

“My mom was one the strongest women I know. It hurts that my baby won’t get to experience her love and guidance, and you can say no. We’ve only known each other a short time, but would you consider...maybe being a grandma to my baby?”

Giddy was the feeling Athena developed along with the laughing smile that only came from happiness. The woman could only nod her head in response to your hesitant question. To Athena’s knowledge but not yours, Bobby was softly smiling, watching his formerly estranged daughter getting along with your stepmom.

“Oh!” You gasped as your baby kicked hard enough for her foot imprint to be seen through your knitted sweater. 

Bobby was by your side in concern the second he heard your startled sound, but Athena wasn’t that concerned. Athena remembered having the same reaction.

“Are you okay?” Bobby frantically questioned. He faltered when the woman shared a belly-deep laugh at the sheer fear written in the seasoned firefighter’s eyes.

“Poppy was kicking.” You chuckled as your father’s shoulders dropped in relief, “Here.”

Your nimble fingers clasped around your father’s wrist to bring his palm to the spot Poppy was kicking. A certain lightness flooded your entire body, being capable of sharing this experience with Bobby. Watching tears well up in the grandpa to be’s brown eyes.

“Whoa.” Bobby breathlessly spoke as Poppy kicked against his palm. The feeling building in his was exhilarating with the small amount of grief mixed in, “I remember when your mom was pregnant with you. We didn’t know if we were having a girl or boy, but she was adamant you would be a kickboxer. So active.”

Athena watched as the relationship between father and daughter started healing directly in front of her eyes. The Sergeant was about to give you two some privacy when you caught her hand in your free one.

“Here.” You informed the older woman shifting to place her hand where your father’s hand had previously been. Your e/c eyes sought the wonder-filled different shades of brown eyes the couple had.

“You should get some sleep,” Athena spoke, staring at her hand resting on your bump. Her dark chocolate brown rising to find your gaze, “You won’t be getting a lot once she arrives.”

Bobby and Athena watched as you turned the corner to the spare room Athena’s parents used when they visited. For the time being, you’ve moved into the room, and the Grant-Nash house hoped you would stay. May had always wanted a sister, and Harry loved all the stories you told about Australia.

“You know, at some point, you’ll have to talk to her.”

“I just was-’

“-without anyone else being the buffer. Bobby, both your lives is evidence enough that some things are too trivial to stress over.” Athena pinned her stern gaze on her husband. The same husband is actively trying to avoid her penetrating gaze.

“What I did-’

“Is in the past, Bobby. You have a second chance with that wonderful woman in that bedroom and our grandchild. Now, are you sure that having the party at the firehouse is okay?”

A hand supported the base of your back where an ache tended to stay for most of the day. That ache wasn’t the worst symptom of your pregnancy. You had heartburn constantly that tied with unfortunate constipation that had thankfully lessened. Your purse always had a cardigan for the hot flashes as well.

“Perfect! May has my car, and Bobby needed that.” Athena beamed from the open bay of the 118. One of the firefighters, Eddie, if you recalled, snagged your purse and the specific ingredient for a recipe.

“You could have borrowed Bobby’s-”

“His vehicle is in the shop Buck.” Athena interrupted the only member of the 118 you had let to officially meet.

Now there were two suspects of the sudden shortness of breath you started experiencing. It could be Poppy in the limited space in your body or the handsome firefighter. Buck had to be hands down none of the most attractive men you’d ever encountered. His dark blonde hair had minimal height, but the soft waves made your fingers itch to feel it. His ocean blue eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth.

“Ah, so you’re flesh and blood of Cap?” Buck questioned from in front of you. His blue eyes centred solely on you, with half a mind thanking himself that he could navigate the station blindfolded in the dark.

“For the last twenty-seven years, I have been.” You retorted, stopping at the edge of the stairs to the apparatus. Your keen sense of smell catching one of your favourite meals your father had dug up from the recipes he hadn’t used in years.

A zing of electricity trailed off your arm when a calloused palm met yours. Your e/c eyes followed the path of tan skin until it reached the shirt sleeve of Buck’s t-shirt. The shirt emblazoned on the chest with the department’s insignia. The man in the casual uniform guided you safely up the stairs with his hand on your back.

The pressure of Buck’s hand on your aching back muscle nearly brought what would be an embarrassing moan from your lips. Thankfully a gasp of surprise fell out instead at the banner hanging with other decorations.

“What?” You choked, cupping your hands to your face. Pure unadulterated shock and affection flooded every inch of you.

The entire 118 squad intermixed with their loved ones surrounded the open area with grins. On a table behind everyone was many wrapped gifts. But the cake was the most impressive.

A large rectangular cake in the realistic shape of a fire engine parked in front of a fire hydrant with a fondant hose going to the truck. On top of the fire truck was the turnout boots next to the matching helmet, the 118 proudly on it. You adored the turnout coat draping off the top to hang off the side.

“If you look at the helmet, it says Poppy.” Buck enthused, guiding you even closer to catch the immaculate cake, “It has to be the best cake we’ve gotten from them.”

“Hey, my rebar head cake was phenomenal!” Chimney called with a belying grin on his face. His hand encased by a brunette woman about his height with her heels on.

“It’s a long story.” Buck offered as soon as you gave him a weird questioning look, “Let me introduce you to everyone!”

For the next five minutes, you spend it by meeting the family of 118, including Eddie’s completely adorable son. Christopher was happy to sit next to you as soon as Harry had found you. Slowly the others came closer to hear the stories.

“What’re the most common injuries on the beach?” Denny, Hen and Karen’s ten-year-old son questioned.

“Bluebottle Jellyfish stings. On one day, we had hundreds of people come to the tower for stings, and the treatment for the minor ones is stingose spray and ice.”

“My question is how a girl from Minnesota is a lifeguard in Australia. Especially on Sydney’s most dangerous beach.” Chimney inserted, waving his bottle of pop at you, his eyes kept moving towards the wine Maddie brought.

Unfortunately, the 118 wouldn’t be celebrating with the wine until their shifts ended in a few short hours. It was a damn miracle they hadn’t been called out yet.

“This former Minnesotan spent summers at my best friend’s parents’ place in Cali as a lifeguard. Also, Bondi is not the most dangerous beach in Sydney. That’s Tamarama.” You pointed towards the man who raised his hands in surrender.

“Have you ever seen a dead body?” Harry asked, bringing a sobering silence in the question’s wake.

Your body language changed as soon as he asked, “Unfortunately, I’ve seen death as a paramedic and as a lifeguard.”

“You’re a paramedic? I thought you were just a lifeguard?” Buck asked, interested in the new information. Buck could feel his Captain’s eyes on the back of his head; he was sure Bobby could smell the attraction on Buck.

“Casual lifeguard. Called when needed as a backup.” You turned your e/c eyes towards the arguably youngest member of the 118.

“How many dead-”

“Harry.” Athena warned her son from continuing a topic that killed the ease and happiness you’d shown previously, “Why don’t we stop talking about-”

“Too many, Harry.” You interrupted your stepmom with a gentle smile towards the woman, “It’s not just drowning that claims lives but also the cliffs surrounding the beaches. Lifeguards patrol more than the beaches and water. Lifeguards respond to medical emergencies, mostly spinal until the paramedics arrive.”

“Oh-”

“I had a fellow lifeguard leave the job because of the suicides we deal with.”

“...who wants cake?” Karen used the quiet interlude of the much too serious topic for a group of kids barely in the double digits of ages. All referenced children followed Hen’s life to the beautiful baked creation.

“Sorry for getting dark there.”

“We all know the dark side of the jobs we chose to do. You sound like you miss Australia. Are you going to return there?” Eddie questioned with one eye pinned on his son, consuming more sugar than he wished.

Eddie’s question did raise self-doubt, but you knew that ultimately living in Australia was no longer a viable option. 

“There’s nothing there for me.”

Eddie, Buck and your father understood that mentality to a ‘t’ with family complications keeping them away. Your father for obvious reasons, whereas Eddie and Buck each had a living family with opinions only they saw right.

“You’re always welcome here. Especially when you bring that little cutie to the firehouse.” Maddie cooed towards your baby bump. The 911 dispatcher had asked many questions about your pregnancy.

 Maddie was the type of person who could make a stranger feel like they had known for their entire lives.

“Here.”

A plate of the cake was thrust in front of your face courtesy of Maddie’s brother Buck. It is quite literally the perfect size you could ask for. In his other hand, he had a new bottle of water waiting for you to grab.

“Thank you, Buck.” Your shock must have shown in your voice when his cheeks flushed.

“This whole party is a celebration for you, so you shouldn’t have to get up...unless you want to!” Buck rushed to respond, getting more flustered with the amused look of his older sister on him, “You’re already doing something absolutely amazing, so you should get to rela-”

“Buck!” You laughed, ending the older man’s rambling thoughts. The entire party attendees had started watching Buck’s failed smooth attempt.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Buck mutely nodded in response, “No prob-”

The bell was the one to interrupt him instead. The on-duty firefighters rushed down from the upper levels to the lockers. The swift suiting up impressed you as it was like you blinked, and the bay was empty.

“Should be the last call before they get off shift.” Maddie, still occupied with the cake she was eating, “That wine looks so good!”

Your attention snapped from the vacant spots the 118 vehicles parked to the woman ploughing down on the cake. Sure it was good, but not that good. Maybe you could tell as a pregnant woman, or perhaps you just caught some of the symptoms you felt.

“How far along are you?”

Maddie froze, “What are you talk-”

“You’re pregnant, right?”

“Don’t tell anyone. Chim and I found out recently, but we want to wait on telling people. Once the first trimester is over, everyone can know.” Maddie pleaded with two hands cupped under her chin in a prayer position. The pretty brunette using the puppy dog eyes on the new friend she’d made.

“You should tell Buck-”

“We will once we enter the safe zone. So tell me about your baby’s father.” Maddie swiftly changed the subject, unaware of the ache developing in your midsection.

“Lucas Gowan.” You mussed, recalling the freckled half Australian half Scots man with the thick red locks.

“Ooh, is he still in Australia?”

“Technically, he is. I met him at the grocery store near the university campus. I’d transferred to escape my grief. It was purely an attraction at first sight before developing into love at first sight. We convocated and moved into a cosy little place. We’d only just found out about the baby when Lucas passed away.”

As you told Maddie, your hand had moved to cradle the only remaining piece of Lucas. 

“His death was unexpected and sudden. He’d taken a run the morning of our scan to find out baby Gowan’s gender. He fell off the side of the cliff. I was told he died instantly. The investigator believes his shoelace untied, and he stepped on it. Fell right off the side.”

“I’m so sorry.” Maddie breathed, leaning closer to hold your hands in her own, “He’d be so proud of you. For returning to the states. Do you keep in contact with his family?”

“He was an only child. Parents died in a car accident when he was ten years old. He was in foster care until he aged out of the system. Poppy is named after his mom.”

Maddie instinctively knew talking about Lucas was, “You know you get along pretty well with Buck... I’ve never seen him so flustered.”

“Maddie, I can tell you are a very intelligent woman, but you’re wrong here. Why would a guy like Buck be interested in a pregnant woman with a reconciling relationship with her father and his Captain while grieving her baby’s dad?”

Maddie tilted her head to the side, “Because I know my brother. He’s only ever had that look when I first moved to LA. Back when Abby was still important to him.”

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree.”

Maddie’s mouth opened to speak, but you were saved by the bell when Athena called you over for pictures. Then her attempts got thwarted once more when the 118 returned to the house perfectly synced to the end of shift.

“Driving here was the last time until the baby’s here. You’ve got precious cargo-”

“I’m seven months pregnant; I can still drive. There’s no law saying I can’t-”

Never argue with Athena Grant-Nash, “It may not be illegal, but I won’t endanger my daughter or my granddaughter.”

“I have to get to my OB/GYN appointment tomorrow. You and Dad each have a long shift during my scheduled appointment. Harry is both too young to drive and in school. May has a shift at dispatch. There’s literally no one available to take me.”

Bobby watched as two of the most important women in his life argued over something as trivial as driving. Harry shook at listening to someone fighting against his mother; she could be terrifying.

“I can take her.”

Everyone in the fir house turned to the voice who’d offered suddenly and found the sheepish form of a tall firefighter. Eddie’s eyebrows raised at his best friend.

“I don’t work tomorrow. I’ve got no plans. Albert’s got some date with a girl at her place.”

“I couldn’t put you out.”

“You need a ride, and I’ll be bored, so why not take my new friend to her baby doctor.”

“Baby doctor?” Hen parroted to her wife in astonishment towards her coworker and close friend. Both the women found the blatant flirting from Buck to the soon to be mother.

“She’ll take you up on the offer. She’s staying in our guest room. Come early for breakfast before you go. We’ll be having waffles.”

Buck found any excuse to visit the Grant-Nash home with the motive to hang out with you ever since the baby shower. From delivering baked goods from your favourite bakery to insisting on driving you to appointments. Didn’t matter if Athena or Bobby could take you; Buck was adamant he drove you.

The friendship was easy going and very natural, like a ball glove still moulded perfectly to your hand. The hangouts in your home evolved to weekly visits to restaurants with guidelines to the current event happening worldwide. 

Ultimately it even led to a test date.

“You look breathtaking.” Buck breathlessly informed you once he’d gently pushed your chair closer to the table.

“Thank you.” You kindly responded despite thinking the complete opposite to the charming man sitting across from you.

Athena and May had helped you get ready for the date with calming words on how going on a date so far into the pregnancy was okay. Then, your father had tentatively inserted himself with sage advice on re-entering the dating scene.

“I thought we could grab some ice cream after,” Buck spoke up as soon as the waiter had taken your drink order. Buck had decided to refrain from alcohol and went with glasses of lemonade and water.

“You shouldn’t say that. I’ll just want ice cream.” You snickered, caressing the taut belly you’d grown to love. In fact, the firm push of a heel announced Poppy’s agreement with ice cream as dessert.

“How is Poppy?”

“The doc says she’s right on track. Healthy all around and in the position, she’s supposed to be at this stage.” Buck adored the affectionate smile that always appeared when the topic of your pregnancy was brought up.

“That’s amazing! Bobby gushes about you and Poppy. The fridge has an entire door dedicated to sonograms of Poppy. Even a few from that maternity shoot Hen and Maddie surprised you with.”

A few weeks had passed since the baby shower the 118 had surprised you with. Maddie had announced her pregnancy to the joy of the chosen family she had. Bobby had put together a crib he had painted. Michael, Athena’s ex-husband, had started making plans for adding on to the house for a room for the baby.

Despite informing the architect, you planned on moving out when you had saved enough, he’d made a sound argument. Athena would want a place for the baby to stay when you visited, or the woman demanded to babysit.

Now you found yourself in a National forest not far from Los Angeles, posing in front of nature. A surprise photoshoot Hen and Karen had organized with Karen’s brother Trey. Maddie and Athena had been the ones who drove you.

“Hold the teddy bear on your bump,” Trey informed you from behind his professional and intimidating camera. The photographer praised you in the rapid movement to listen to his offer.

“Hey! Maddie! You should take a few photos. I need a pee break.” You didn’t wait for Maddie to respond in your rush to the somewhat rustic bathroom hut.

By the time you returned, Maddie was taking a couple pictures. Then you took some with Athena to have on the nursery walls and for Bobby to have a photo for his desk.

“Now one with all three of you.”

Present

“So a daredevil.” You stated unsurprised that the firefighter had a history of recklessness. You don’t go into firefighting without a taste for danger.

“The bruises and blood fit better than the awful bleached hair during my time in Peru.” Buck laughed, recalling the questionable choice in his fashion pre-firefighting. Sometimes he missed the people he encountered in his period of self-discovery.

“You didn’t wear puka sh-”

“I did. Bleached hair, puka shells and Hawaiian shirts were my staples during my bartending years. I fit in with the aesthetic of the bar I tended.”

“Buck!” You nearly gasped at his raw honesty. Buck didn’t hold back any answers to your questions, but you each strayed from the topic of family.

Talking about the tragic family history wasn’t a good idea on the first time regardless of the time you’d known each other.

“You’re telling me-” Buck halted as soon as he caught the flash of discomfort flicker over your beautiful features, “Are you okay?”

“She shifted. Been sitting on my blad-” You cut yourself off with a hiss of pain. Buck’s eyes widened at the pain taking over your features, “Oh, that hurt.”

Buck went straight into work mode, “Have you been in pain for long?”

“No. A few cramps here and there today, but my doctor said it was nothing to worry about.” You informed the experienced first responder resting level to your knees.

Buck didn’t want to say it, but he was sure that you’d gone into early labour. There was no indication your water had broken, but he kept over the last hour together. Every once in a while, you shifted or pressed a hand to your bump.

“Has your water broken?”

You shook your head, “No, but...oh... that’s not a cramp.”

With that statement out, you clenched your fingers tight on the edge of the table as pain rippled in your belly. A contraction that stole your breath momentarily. In your contraction, Buck had dialled 911. Buck recalled that sometimes a woman’s water doesn't break until right before the birth.

“We’re not getting that ice cream, are we?” You snorted upon being lifted onto the gurney. How fortunate or unfortunate you were to have the 118 right there.

Hen had taken a position at your feet to check on your lower body while Chimney took your vital signs. You honestly didn’t like the look Hen and Chimney shared with Buck.

“What is it?”

“We’re gonna need to deliver here.” Hen sighed, giving you the facts that terrified you. When you envisioned having the baby, it was in a medical centre. Not in a restaurant.

“My office is large and away from the crowd if you want. I can show you the way.” Sophie, the restaurant manager, offered already starting to lead the way. Sophie would never know how thankful you felt for being able to have privacy.

“Okay, Y/N, is it okay if I check how dilated you -.” Hen breathed with her hand, gently disappearing until the thin blanket Chimney procured from the stocked ambulance, “Y/N when I saw I want you to do that.”

Hen didn’t need to check your dilation when she could see the baby’s head already.

“I’m right here.” Buck cooed in your ear. He had held your hand as his coworkers did their jobs around you.

“This isn’t the way I envisioned you seeing my pu-”

“Push.” Hen urged, cutting off your almost vulgar language, but it eased the tension in the small restaurant office. You couldn’t even see Buck’s flustered reaction as you bore down with the contraction, “Good! Take a breath.”

“You’re a strong woman. It never ceases to amaze me the strength women have.” Buck spoke, keeping your e/c eyes on his blue ones. His hand raised to push a strand of your sweaty hair off your temple.

“Once more push!” Hen called out just in time with the last contraction. The feeling of the pressure between your legs popping was moan inducing.

Poppy was silent. Your entire body froze, yearning for the sweet sound of crying instead of the eerie silence. The world stood still as Chimney worked on your baby girl.

“Pulse is strong,” Chimney announced, keeping his attention on the task of clearing Poppy’s throat and nose. And that sweet sound of crying commenced, “Congratulations Y/N, you have a beautiful baby girl. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

Your father beat the ambulance to the nearest ER in pure anticipation at meeting his granddaughter Poppy Nash Gowan. He barely noticed as Buck stuck to your side like glue. Bobby waited outside the door as you got checked over in the room.

“Quite the first date.” You mused towards Buck, who hovered in awe over the life form you had carried for nine months. You’d been pregnant for three quarters of an entire year to his fascination. 

“All my meaningful relationships started with a medical emergency.” Buck finally looked up at you. He’d kept Poppy company in the bassinet while you delivered the afterbirth upon entering the hospital.

“Seriously?”

“Had a tracheostomy on Valentine’s Day with Abby, an earthquake with Ali and a newscaster in a crashed helicopter.” Buck listed off. He hadn’t even noticed scooping the newborn into his arms until he’d sat in the chair by your bed, “Why not add a sudden labour and delivery.”

“He would have liked you.”

The sentence came out of absolutely nowhere. Almost like something had ripped it out of your vocal cords. At the look of confusion, you elaborated.

“Lucas. He would have liked you. I think if it is possible, he might have pushed me into meeting you. I’ll still need to take it slow, but I’d like to give this a shot.”

That was all Buck needed to lean in closer to kiss you—the first of many kisses.

Some might disagree on how quick your relationship with Buck developed, but they didn’t know yours at all. It was natural with the firefighter who stepped into the role of father figure for a growing Poppy. By the time Poppy was one, you’d moved into a house not far from your father’s place with Buck. By the time Poppy was three, a pretty ring had sat on your finger. By five, the young girl had a baby brother. 

“Your parents spoil Poppy.”

“You say that like you didn’t crawl into her crib during her afternoon naps.” You deadpanned towards your husband. Buck had the nerve to sheepishly grin, “You give in each time she says ‘pwetty pwease’ for a cookie.”

“It’s a crime to make her sad!” Buck defended himself, but a grin of amusement threatened his act, “Besides, you crack each time too!”

“Mhm. Just wait until Theo can talk.” You pressed a kiss to the sleeping infant strapped into the baby carrier. Theodore Robert Buckley could fall asleep in a thunderstorm if he was in Buck’s arms.

“Oh! Maddie wants to have Poppy over for a play date. Madster’s been begging for her cousin to have a sleepover.”

Maddie and Chimney’s daughter was only a few months younger than your daughter, but the two were thick as thieves. Buck had referred to the Han daughter as Madster with how similar her mannerisms were to her mother.

“Think they’d take the rascal?”

“Is this code for you wanting to have another?” Buck questioned with a twinkle of mischief in his blue eyes. The same blue Theo had inherited along with a birthmark like Buck’s on his bicep.

“I-” You choked, blinking furiously, “Evan, I pushed Theo out of my body barely three months ago!”

Buck inconspicuously winked in response with the sudden scream of excitement coming from Poppy. The rambunctious five-year-old ploughed into Buck’s legs full force. Falling into the practised ease, you’d unstrapped Theo from Buck’s chest and promptly had his tiny body stolen into his grandpa’s arms.

“There’s my boy.” Bobby cooed to the sleep drunk tiny infant. The little baby is crowded by his Gram Athena and Aunt May, “Gonna have to get you a Minnesota Wilds jersey.”

“Hell no. That boy is LA born and bred. He’ll be wearing a Kings jersey like the civilized.” Michael announced with the sudden arrival of Theo and Poppy’s Uncle Harry.

“Mommy? When are we going to Stralia?” Poppy inquired from right beside your leg. Her tiny handheld is the giant one of her dad.

“In a few weeks. Are you excited to see the mommy’s old friends again?”

“Hm. Can we see Dada?”

Buck may be Poppy’s father, but he’d never let Poppy go without knowing she had two fathers in all. Her first one waiting to meet here decades from the time she was born and solely referenced Lucas as Dada. Buck was grateful for the man who brought Poppy into existence; the little green-eyed tot Buck could never regret. Unlike Buck’s parents keeping his older brother’s existence a secret, the firefighter refused to follow in their footsteps. He’d continue to shower the late Lucas in gratitude and respect. He refused to make the same mistakes as Phillip and Margaret Buckley.

“Of course. C’mon Poppy, time to say goodbye.” Buck guided the little girl to the extended family showering her little brother with love. The little girl was quickly swung into Bobby’s arms, and Athena cooing at your infant son.

Changes. The six-letter word doesn’t have to be terrifying. It can be breathtaking, memorable and beautiful to experience. 

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[junova]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞.

notes: howdy guys, it's been a while. i've been taking a break and finally starting writing again, yay. it's been a rough few months and still treading through it, but i hope you enjoy a piece of my heart with this one.

if it's any consolation, my heart broke while writing this. </3

pairing — boxer!steve rogers x fem!reader

concept — steve has to come with terms of you not wanting him just as much as he wants you.

wc — 6.7k+ [yeah...]

warnings: 18+, themes alluding to sex, emotional cheating, soft!steve, heartbreak, kind of unrequited vibe going on, over all ✨ angst ✨

Even if it was the thousandth time to watch his body move in the ring, you still were memorized by the way he moved. You were in complete admiration of how his hips flowed so fluidly through his punches. Just like always, he was aware of your presence as you stood next to Sam and Wanda, both of them with proud smiles on their faces as he defeated yet another opponent.

Watching as they raised his arm, declaring him as the champion, something he’d been striving so intensely for, the past few months. Even if his body was bruised and littered with the hits Rumlow had been able to mark his body with and not to mention the busted lip, making him taste the blood with nearly every swallow.

It didn’t matter because he had followed through with what he had set his mind out to do. The looks Rumlow was giving him after all the smack talk he had served him was satisfying enough. Even if he didn’t think you did, he saw you standing there alongside his friends, celebrating the win of his life.

He couldn’t but smile proudly at your presence, even if the disapproval you have against his lifestyle was well known between the two of you and everyone else in your friend group.

Steve knew you weren’t a fan of the injuries you brought home in your shared apartment, the nights you actually stayed there. With Jordan’s absence from New York, you’d been staying there more consistently than ever.

He would never admit it out right, but it made his heart full. With you home, he could protect and he worried wherever you weren’t there. Even if he knew you were fully capable of defending yourself if need be, it would always make him feel better when you were close to him.

Just like him, you could confess it even to yourself, but when you were back in the apartment you shared with Steve, you’d always felt safer.

He went straight to the locker room, to clean himself up as best as he could without making his friends and Tony wait too long. He’d usually go straight to them but the group took notice he held himself back when you were around.

The first match you went to and he came up with bruises running along both rib cages, a bloody nose accompanied by a busted lip, he immediately took notice of the way you cowered away from him. Barely even looking at him as you congratulated him. From then on out, he realized how much it bothered you to see him physically injured.

When you’d come, he’d always make sure to clean himself up before. It really worked out on the days he didn’t want to be around many people. Only the stragglers from the crowd would be left, and his friends who supported him nearly every time.

As soon as he made his way over to the group, he was met with Sam’s warm smile pulling him into a warm hug. You found yourself wincing as soon as Steve did. “Easy there big buy, bruises are still fresh.” Sam let up just a tad, before everyone was congratulating him. You stood back with Tony, watching the proud smile grow on his face as he watched his prodigy surpass his monumental goal.

“You should think about coming to more matches. He fights better when you’re here watching him.” You twisted your neck so you could see his coach more clearly who was standing right beside you. “I’m sure he plays just as well when I’m not here. I still watch them everytime, just from home when it’s too much for me to stomach.”

You looked forward away from Tony, Steve coming into your line of vision as Sharon, his ex who had surprisingly shown up to corral by his side, someone you’d hadn’t seen near him in the past few weeks since she’d been out of the country for work.

“His technique and endurance is the same, but his intensity always rises higher when you’re here. I’m not the only one who notices, maybe the only one bold enough to say it to you.” Tony spoke as watched the man he took in when Steve was just sixteen.

Truly, it made his heart swell with pride to see him reach the level of success he had been dreaming for him since the pair had met. Knowing Steve for the past five years, also made him hyper aware of the girl he never seemed to shut up about, not that you’d ever find out.

No matter how much Tony was dying to let the words slip off his tongue.

“I’m just happy to be here for him.” Keeping your words short as you watched Sharon move closer to him, her hand resting on his chest and he didn’t even move away from it. You tried to ignore the ugly shade of green rising in your chest, but with him it always seemed to show.

Not that you’d had a right to, you weren’t single or emotionally available by any means, but the thought of him being with someone who had hurt him so much made you more protective of him than you had a right to be.

“C’mon little dove, have you thought about why you’d rather stay in the dinged up apartment with Steve than be with your boyfriend of three years across the country?” He pressed harder, making sure you were careful of your response. “My friends are here and so is my family. I can’t just leave everyone I love behind.” Your gaze never left Steve’s as he finally was out of Sharon’s grip.

“Steve’s here, too. You sure it has nothing to do with him?” Part of you couldn’t stand there with Tony and lie to him because you weren’t sure what was the nature of your relationship with the boxer.

Thankfully, you were saved from responding by the devil himself as made his way over to the two of you. Much to your dismay, he had to get in a few more words before Steve was in earshot. “Just think about why Steve lives with you when he’s had more than enough to move out for a while now.”

Before you could even process the words leaving his mouth, your favorite man in the ring immediately has you wrapped up in his arms. Holding you so close and so tightly, not even caring if it put more pressure on his lungs than he wished.

“Congrats on the win, Champion. I’m so proud of you.” The arms you had around him were placed gently, too afraid to put any weight on the new bruises. Not to mention the old ones which were still healing.

Once he pulled away from you, just enough so you could look at him. He hummed at Tony and with one nod of his head he knew when the young boxer wanted to be left alone. More times than not, it is usually with you.

“I thought you weren’t coming tonight. Isn’t Jordan in town?” Not even when it was the biggest moment of his career thus far did he care to indulge in his victories. Always it seemed to be looking after you.

“Stevie, this is your night. We don’t have to talk about me — we’re always talking about me.” For a moment he almost bought your act until he looked into those dazzling eyes of yours, ones he never seemed to grow tired of in the past few years.

“I’m not happy unless you’re happy. So, if you need a night where we just watch romcoms and chow on cookie dough ice cream, you know I’m all yours.” Unknowing to the two of you, everyone of your friends was watching the encounter and still couldn’t believe you still were with your current boyfriend.

Or that Steve was just waiting for you patiently. Something that didn’t come easy for him around women. Before you, he didn’t really do relationships with women that didn’t end with him in their bed at some point. Somehow, much to everyone’s dismay, he managed to keep his interactions platonic with you.

At least in their eyes.

“No, Stevie. I’m fine. He just didn’t follow through this time. It’s not the end of the world, I’ll be fine. Tonight, I just wanna be by your side and celebrate you.” Although, he didn’t really believe you Steve decided he would let it go.

“Regardless of it, thank you for coming tonight. Means the world to me.” It really did. Even more so, when he felt like he was one of the reasons you were still in Brooklyn and not in California living with your boyfriend instead.

“Oh, hush bubba. You’re getting so soft on me and you haven’t even had a proper drink in you yet. Let’s just celebrate with our friends, yeah?” You kissed his cheek sweetly, before you were off to Bucky and Nat’s place to get properly fed and surely get Steve drunk off his ass.

It really was the elephant in the room you were choosing to ignore. The fluttering feeling of adventurous butterflies traveling to spaces you didn’t know existed. Everytime he pulled you close to his side or kissed your temple.

When Bucky would do something monumentally stupid, he would whisper a line in your ear humorous enough to hear you laugh. Even right now, when you knew he was exhausted, muscles sore and aching — Steve was still tending to whatever you needed.

In this moment, your body nestled between his legs as he draped his arm across your chest, letting him hold you close was exactly what you needed. Even if you tried to remove yourself several times because of the new injuries, he would never let you.

“What’s next, Rogers?” Steve watched as he craned his neck towards Sharon. You’d almost forgotten she was here, she’d been so quiet most of the night.

“A whole lot of rest and then in a few weeks, right back into training.” He spoke with pride because winning the title went hand and hand with defending it. “You should come to the club. Danielle’s been itching to see you, again.”

Steve grimaced, not just as Sharon’s words, but with how stiff your body became. The way you rubbed back and forth with the tip of your fingers against his forearm came to a halt.

You weren’t really sure what to do because now you felt horrible for even feeling like you had a right to be upset in the first place. Because you didn’t. You weren’t single and Steve was. In this space in time, he did nothing wrong.

When you followed Nat back into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine, away from him, it felt like he had made a mistake.

Just watching as you followed Nat up the pathway, in your pretty green dress, as you messed with the necklace adoring your neck. Something he learned you did when you were anxious.

“Why would you bring that up now? In front of her?” He was slightly pissed off she had driven you away and out of his arms. Steve would have you within his grip constantly if you would let him. Not that you did, but it was still a certain something he found himself wishing for. More than not though, someone else always seemed to hold your attention whenever he wasn’t in the ring.

Jordan. Tony. Sam. Natasha. Bucky. Wanda.

Tonight had seemed it might go in a different direction, until Sharon steered your mind elsewhere. One where you were a girl who missed her boyfriend. Or at least that’s what he thought.

Unknowingly to Steve, Jordan was the last thing on your mind, which allowed the guilt to settle in. Maybe, just this one time it was rightfully placed. The thoughts you were having scared you senseless — making you want to do something you knew you shouldn’t.

You just sat there on the padded bar tool as Nat grabbed a bottle of white with a bottle of red. Like time and time again, Nat read your mind just as she often did. “So, why couldn’t he come this time?” She drilled into you, her iridescent daggers as piercing as ever.

“He said he forgot his mother asked him to help her move out of the house. He said he’d make it up to me some other time.” Just like always.

But you held your tongue before voicing it to anyone other than yourself. It’d been months since you’d seen him in the flesh, and it was the first time he spoke to you in days when he informed you he’d been unable to spend any of his time off with you.

“He’s just never here and he keeps asking for me to move to Los Angeles, but my whole life is here. Before, he never seemed to really pressure me. He was always patient with me to travel at my own pace but I think he ultimately thought I would eventually go there with him.” You breathed out, scared of the truth dripping right out of you.

“I just-, you know what? Nevermind. It’s isn’t important.” She was never one to bite her tongue, but she found herself trying to when your feelings were involved.

“Tell me. What is it?” Your curious, bambi eyes peering into your soul, dying to pull the confession right out of her.

“Do you even miss him when you’re apart for so long? I’m not judging but it just seems like you’re okay. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but why don’t you ever go to him or Jordan to you?” Natasha spoke softly, afraid she might be poking the bear just a bit.

“Of course I miss him. I would see him if I could. I’m just a little too busy right now with work and my family.” You attacked back, feeling the need to defend yourself.

“Are you really going to make me say it?” With both bottles of wine on the counter, she went to grab three more wine glasses — for Sharon, herself, and you.

“Say what? What the hell are you talking about?” You pushed her as she put out the bottles of wine as she managed to link the three vines of the glasses in her left fingertips. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” She was regretting it now, because maybe you weren’t quite ready to hear the words everyone else knew to be true. Anyone who was around the two of you could see it.

Perhaps, Nat never spoke a word of it because at the very least, she thought you wouldn’t be as naive to see his feelings. The ones he seemed to offer you on a silver platter, whether you wanted to reject or accept the offering, giving it to you wholeheartedly.

Following her out the patio door where the two of you stopped, not moving a step further. She didn’t really say anything either. Letting you bask in the glow before the fall.

He was laughing so hard, his hand clutching his chest as him. Golden hair shining bright by the fire pit, almost as

lively as his smile. Even if it looked like his spirit could have been beaten out of him tonight, he’d never show it.

When he had trouble keeping his eyes open, he’d force himself to stay alert because moments he could spend with ones he loved seemed too precious to pass up. Especially over the past few months — he didn’t even have to think twice about it.

Through the schedule Tony had him on, his life was eating, breathing, living boxing. Training every day in the gym, whether it be furthering his techniques in the gym to Tony making him regret any mistake he made in the ring.

Even some days he was just weight training when Tony told him he could rest. He couldn’t though. Not when he could taste the sweetness of his dreams on the tip of his tongues.

Every day, dawn till dusk, training consumed every moment of his time. Steve thought his body was restless before, but now? Nothing came even close to this.

Leading Steve to be blissfully unaware of what was actually going in that fantastically bold head of yours.

“Just spill it, Romanov.” You pressured her, but your eyes were too weak to redirect your directions elsewhere. Only Steve holding your attention at one.

“Remember when Steve left for Spain for three months with Tony?” Your body stilled, having a feeling you knew where this was going. Regretting you told her what had happened with Steve in the first after promising him it would just stay between the two of you.

“It was the year Jordan and I had split for two months.” The memory of what happened always clouding your better judgement. The way his eyes shined still haunted you. “Steve had already been there a month when it happened and the second I told him he insisted on flying me out.”

Looking at him fondly, across the greenery before speaking so softly as if he was right next to you, “I could never say no to him. I still can’t.” Nat tried to ignore it but she could see through the fog of your first love fading even if you were trying your hardest to avoid the inevitable heartache.

The care you held for him was oozing out of you, bursting and breaking at the seams. When you kept thinking of him more than a roommate, more than a friend.

“Dove, you can’t just keep pretending your feelings don’t exist. The more you try to bury the root deep the more it will grow.” You knew she was right, but you really didn’t want to hurt anyone.

You supposed you were already causing pain unintentionally. “His biggest insecurity is him. Jordan thinks I’m still here because of him.” You confessed, the ongoing fight no secret to anyone, really.

“Aren’t you?” Maybe if you had been a better liar, you could’ve convinced her but everyone could read you like the back of your own hand.

You hated the spotlight she was putting on you, but even more so because she was right. Moving forward with Jordan meant leaving someone else behind, something you couldn’t seem to prepare yourself to do.

“I love Jordan. He’s my first love and I thought he would be the greatest one, too.” You really want to stop the love and admiration flowing out of you, but you couldn’t choose who you love and maybe it was time for you to stop fighting it.

“Then, I met Steve. He responded to the ad I put out for the spare room in my apartment and we met for coffee.” If you had listened to your mother, her wishes of you not to be in the company of a man who was a complete stranger, you’d never meet the most important person in your life.

“He looked more like a boy back then. Clean shaven. No beard. Steve was still muscular, but not nearly as toned as he is now. But his eyes? They pulled me right in. Still do, every damn time.” You should have held some sort of shame, but you didn’t.

“You should do something about it, Dove. He isn’t going to be single forever.” Nat questioned as you followed her lead, back to the roaring fire.

“Nat, I love Jordan. I could never do that to him.” You really couldn’t, but you also couldn’t find it in you to move with him either. “I know you love him, but you aren’t in love anymore.” Growing closer and closer, back to the group, you saw him clearly.

“What do you mean?” Trying to ignore the pain in your chest as Natasha spoke. “I think you’re scared of ending it with Jordan. Dove. I’ve known you for a long time now and I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you do with Steve.”

The words spilling out of her lips left you a little broken — the truth spearing you through. She wasn’t wrong, not one bit. Nat never nearly was, especially when your feelings were involved. Steve had become such an enigma to you in the past year.

The line of platonic friendship and overflowing emotional intimacy was becoming too entangled for you to even comprehend.

“Just think about it. I just want you to be happy.” The rest of the night, it’s all you could think about. A few days passed and it was still in the forefront of your mind.

When Steve was walking home with you this week, you couldn’t stop wondering all the hypotheticals swarming inside your dreams.

He could tell, too.

You’d never been so quiet, not ever. He’d like to hear you, especially when you were drunk. Like you seemed to be now, at least to him but tequila that lit a fire in your chest a few hours ago was beginning to wear off. Just when the feelings you kept trying to avoid would seep there way back in like your furry, fat cat Thor when he wormed his body through the gate into the apartment.

“What’s wrong? You’ve seemed off this week.” You felt his hand kiss yours, but he didn’t bother to find it’s home. He’d been keeping his distance or at least been trying to. You'd been so vulnerable lately and the last thing he wanted to do was exploit that.

Ever since Sharon had made a comment about Danielle, and you escaped with Nat, something changed. You more guarded around him, more than you'd ever been since you met.

Steve knew there was a reason for it, but he didn't want to push you — not when it looked like you would combust into a breakdown at any given moment.

“I’ve just been thinking about where my life is going and where I want it to go.” You confessed, letting your words linger. “Jordan wants me to move with him to California and I’m running out of reasons to say no.” In perfect harmony, your eyes met his at the same time.

They weren’t joyful what his bright blues usually possess, but this time they were indifferent. Not even you could read them.

“Do you want to move there with him?” Steve asked you, his heart on the verge of dropping into his stomach. “If it will make you happy, you should.” Shoving his hands in his pockets, you watched him drift away from you.

“I don’t know. It might.” Both of you coming to a halt, walking up to the apartment the two of you shared.

“He’s insecure about you. It’s why he’s pressuring me.” The two of your bodies so close but so far away as you stood in the doorway. With a confusing gaze and pouty lips, practically guiding you into temptation.

“He used to always tell me you were in love with me. He was fully convinced, still is. I never thought so. You were just my best friend, that was it. I just never really thought about it unless Jordan brought it up.” You would have loved to blame your sudden outburst on the alcohol, but it was something you'd been dying to do.

Before you never had the guts, but you a felt a pull towards Steve lately, like maybe there was something more trying to burst under the seams.

“I thought Tony was bullshitting me, fucking with me, but I didn’t ever give it a thought. Then, Nat brought up Spain.” Nights you told yourself were a mistake, but deep down it was the probably the safest you felt in a long time.

“What are you talking about? What did Tony say?” Fetching for the key, he slid it in before opening the door for you and following you inside. “Steve, why do you still live here?” Blushing cheeks and a string of incoherent words was all you could make out from him.

As he headed for the small couch, trying to make up an excuse good enough. One which you’d actually believe, he hoped.

“You make four times as much as me, if not more. For some reason, you’ve decided to stay in this shithole apartment — it doesn’t make sense.” He wished you would make sense of it, that way he didn’t have to say a word.

“Do you want me to move out?” He questioned, watching your movements. If you wanted him to move out, he wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

It was the last thing you wanted, but the line between your friendship with him was always blurred. Only now, when it was vaguely pointed out by the two people close to the both of you — it became more apparent than ever.

“No, I just, I guess I’m asking why. You know you’re more than welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, but this place is a dump, Steve. Why on earth would you wanna stay here?” When he looked up, where you stood above him having a hard time biting his tongue.

Because you’re here.

It’s what he wanted to say, but he didn’t have the right and he would just be an asshole if he put you in a compromising position. He already felt guilty enough with his feelings in the first place, he didn't need to pile on.

“I guess it’s just easier to stay. It’s so close to the ring and I’m maybe a tad too comfortable.” You sat next to him on the couch. Finding yourself trapped in the green of his eyes. “Don’t you want something better?” Maybe it was him or maybe it was you. Neither of you could tell.

The two of you inched closer until Steve was caressing your thigh, just with the tip of his thumb. “I’m more than happy with where I’m at.”

“Well, I’m asking because I need to go to California. Just for a bit. I need to see Jordan, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen him.” He didn’t stop touching, not even with the mention of his name.

Even if it pierced him every time you talked about him. Or when Jordan came to town, he felt like he didn’t exist to you.

He didn’t blame you, not at all. Jordan was your highschool sweetheart, and you wanted so badly for it to work but something was holding you back. Something you were trying to let go of.

“He loves me so much and wants to start building this whole new life, but how am I supposed to tell him?” Steve said nothing, letting you sink into the ground.

“He’s been nothing, but kind and loving. Always there, always supportive. The best partner I could have asked for.” Steve laced your hand in his like it was the most natural thing in the world, making butterflies erupt at full speed.

You couldn’t really pinpoint a moment when he started, but all you knew is how safe his warm, calloused hands made you feel. Since the moment you met, never failing to comfort you when needed.

“Then what’s the problem, Dove?” Steve questioned you, untangling his body from yours.

If he was going to help you, he needed to think and being so close to you wouldn’t get himself where you needed. Above all, you didn’t make any easier when a small whine left your throat — tugging at his heart strings.

“We never talk about what happened in Barcelona.” You watched his body tighten, muscles in his arm constricting.

It made him feel just as uneasy as it did to you. At least you could find comfort in that.

“Dove, there’s a reason for it. You and I both know it.” Steve was right. His self righteous sense of nature always kicked in when you wanted it the least.

“You don’t think about it? Because I do.” Pushing weight on his heart, you were very aware you held. You weren’t too naive to know just how much he cared for you, but coward enough to try and make him admit it first.

“You were broken up, things are different now. We’re home where you have a boyfriend and I have boxing.”

“Yes, where I have a boyfriend who wants me to abandon everything I hold close to me to join him without even bothering to ask me what I want.” You puffed out, exhaustion coming in overflow. “The past year, he hasn’t once asked me what I want.”

The boy with golden locks found himself wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms, nurse you back to health with all the love he could offer.

But even he knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep on spreading himself thin over a woman who was so conflicted, so distraught she was collapsing within herself. If he wasn’t too careful, he might fall right beside you.

“Before we got back together, he asked me.” You confessed, feeling better as soon as the secret flew from your mouth. “He asked you what?” Steve pressed on, a bit terrified of it truly, but even he had to know.

“He asked if anything happened between us the months I was there and I lied. Ever since we met, he’s been insecure. He thinks I’m going to leave you for him and it wasn’t the first time he asked either.” You wish you hadn’t dealt with the two of them so poorly, but with the expression on Steve’s face you knew you had.

“He knows I lied and it hurts even more he stayed with me anyways.” Steve didn’t move, his fear keeping him still.

“I don’t know how to be his after you, but I don’t know how to let go of my high school sweetheart either.” You felt trapped, in between an impossible decision. An old love, who loves you past your mistakes, past the hurt and a soulful heart admiring you from where you’re at and nothing less.

“Those nights don’t have to mean anything if you don’t want them to.” He spoke softly, his beautiful orbs catching yours in the moonlight peeking through the window.

“They mean too much to me, that’s the problem.” If he didn’t move as you inched closer to his body, planting yourself in front of him, you could tell he was straining himself.

“Do you remember the first time?” He looked confused, wondering if you truly were bold enough to speak of something you shouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. Your hand found his chest, feeling the pulse of his rapid heart beat. “I was so shy and timid the first time with you, but you guided me so well.” Too fond of the memory of him worshipping every part of your body.

The very thing he wanted to do since the moment he met you, but Steve wanted more than that. Now more than ever.

“You don’t have to remind me, Dove. I remember.” He swallowed deeply, trying to erase the permanent memory of your body writhing beneath him, moaning out his name, begging him for more.

He still found himself thinking about it. Those two months with you had just amplified what he felt even more because now he knew what it was like for you to wake up in his arms, bare skin against his own.

The way you curled into his chest, your arms wrapped around his waist for optimal comfort.

Or when he’d wake up before you, which was most days, he’d find you murmuring his name in your sleep while soft fingertips caressed your skin lulling you into a more peaceful slumber.

“I never forget, Dove. That’s the problem.” With one finger, he pushed back the hair falling in your face tucking it behind your ear. “I tried to move past it, I went on a couple dates with this woman, Danielle.” You already felt your heart clench at the thought of him with someone else.

“She’s kind, smart, and beautiful and she seems to like me. Sharon keeps bugging me to take her out again since she set the two of us up.” Steve was trying to talk calmly, but he couldn’t ground himself. Especially when you only seemed to pull back further from him.

It was weird that Sharon set the pair up, considering she dated Steve not too long ago but it seemed she could put her feelings inside if it was for your despair.

In her daunting eyes, you were the reason her and the promising boxer broke up in the first place. As cliche as it was, she offered Steve an ultimatum after six months of dating — her or you.

Steve picked you.

It wasn’t like he loved her at that point. He did care for her, but you just meant too much to him. When kind, iridescent eyes met his own for the first time Steve never was able to stop thinking about them. Or you for that matter.

Carefully calculated as Steve could be, he managed to trap you between the closed door of his bedroom and his toned body.

“But I want to hear you say something before I do.” His gaze never faltered for a moment as he played with the hem of the short slip dress adoring your taut figure.

Half of your mind was begging you to retreat into your room and forget the last time you’d been pressed up against him like this. The other half wanted to see what he would do once he knew you were in the palm of his hand once again.

You had a feeling he already did.

His beard was grown out and his silky, golden hair that almost reached his shoulders make him look even more deliciously sinful.

“What’s that?” You tried not to gulp loudly, but if you even made the slightest movement, he would notice. “Tell me you’re in love with him.” His soft thumb caressing your side, not sure if he was trying to soothe himself or you.

“Just tell me five years down the line, you see him right there with you. Just say it, so I can move on.” He couldn’t even look at you, he couldn’t take the inevitable. “Tell me we’re just friends and Jordan’s your future.” You met his eyes, the prettiest blues you’ll ever see.

Commanding your attention without even trying — every damn time. You weren’t sure what you wanted, but you knew seeing him hurt was chipping a piece of you away. Watching his arched eyebrows furrowed in distress, fine lines being made in the middle for proof.

Soft fingertips met his skin, smoothing out his furrowed brows, closing his eyes trying to remember what you smelled like. Just like Sharon reached her breaking point, he had too. Steve couldn’t watch you any longer without being the one you wanted without a doubt.

“Stevie.” You softly whisper, before pulling him into your arms.

Even if he was double your size, he let you hold him as best as you could. Comfort him even if you were the reason he’s breaking.

The strong, persistent boxer had been transported back to the sick and thin kid he once was before all the guns and glory came. Steve was right back to where he got rejected by anyone and everyone. A time and many places where no one gave a damn about Steve Rogers, not anyone he wished for.

You watched him untangle himself from you, but you weren’t sure just how much time had passed. A few minutes? Thirty? An hour?

Only time could tell and she wasn’t really on your side at the moment.

“I’ve only found love once. Back in high school, there was this girl, Hazel. She was kind, sweet, eyes that shined like fresh honey. The first person to ever show any interest in me and I was in love with the fact that someone actually wanted me.” Steve felt his heart clench at the memory he wished to forget.

“I truly believed I loved her with every fiber in me and I thought she cared about me too, until I realized she was just using me to get to Bucky.” You watched the distress wash over him again and you wanted nothing more than to make him feel appreciated and loved. Not rejected and forgotten.

“It broke my heart for months because I truly believed I was in love with this girl who I hardly knew.” He sighed deeply, like he somehow already was aware of the soft whisper of goodbye.

“It always kind of stayed with me, not ever feeling like I was good enough for anyone until Tony found me. Graduated high school and I started training dawn till dusk until I couldn’t anymore just to start all over and do it the next day.” He was looking everywhere but you. Even if there was not a thing in this damn hallway, but two pressured hearts.

“Not too long after, I met you and I remember thinking this is the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met in my life.” Now, feeling like an absolute dick because you truly didn't deserve for this wonderful man to be in your life.

“You were so kind to me and you had no reason to be, but I learned it’s just who you are. This amazingly bright full beam, shining their light on everyone else — not paying attention to how much they give even if it’s everything they have.” Your skin felt hot beyond comparison, the passion in the words he spoke deeper than the memory of his skin against your own.

“I always tried to ignore it, how stupidly kind and thoughtful you are. How much you take care of me when you don’t have to. You cleaned my wounds for months without even asking me what I was doing.”

“I already knew you had a boyfriend, one you love very much, but I couldn’t stop myself from being around you. Now, I have to leave. I need to move on for me because I know how this ends for me — how it always has.” He sighed before walking away, leaving you hanging in every conceivable way. You didn’t notice the suitcase by the door before. Until he was walking out of the apartment with his possessions in hand — out of sight and out of mind.

“Wait!” He was already making it to his car, the old beat up pickup truck he couldn’t seem to get rid of when you reached him. “I just need time, Steve.” You’d been sprinting after him, until you caught up to him, making his attention fully focused on you.

“Jordan’s the only boyfriend I’ve ever had — I don’t know how to let him go.” You were crying because maybe, deep down you were hoping you could have your cake and eat it too.

“And you’re the only person I’ve ever been in love with, Dove. I can’t keep sticking around hoping you’ll wake up one day and feel the same.” He emptied his belongings in his truck before returning his attention towards you.

“Steve, don’t do this. Please. Don’t leave me.” You’d become so dependent on him, more than you realized. “You’re the only person who truly loves me and not for who they want me to be.” Trying to plead with him, but it felt like you were only pushing him even further away.

“Then tell me I’m the only one you want.” But all he was left with silence because you couldn’t and he already knew what you didn’t. He knew you hated change more than anything, that you’d rather stay in what was comfortable even if you were presented with a different option.

Someone you wanted more.

With tears in your eyes, you looked up at him like he was crushing you and there was nothing to stop the numbing feeling. He sympathized, maybe more than he liked to admit, it’s what he chose to live with over the past year. It started the moment he met you if he was truly being honest.

He knew there was nothing left for him, no matter how much his heart clenched at the sound of your cries. He couldn’t be the one who was always taking care of you, loving you, when you didn’t feel what he felt. It was splitting him open, and you just kept taking pieces of him away — parts of him you would hold forever.

He let you cling onto him one more time, begging for him not to leave you. He let you believe he wouldn’t as he calmed you back in a false sense of security. Until you were asleep in his soft sheets later that night, leaving you lonely in the home you’d been sharing.

With only half of his belongings with him, he pulled up to the project he had just completed. Even now, with not a single hope you would ever see it after he just abandoned you, there was still a light hope you’d be able to at least see it one day. If Steve was ever strong enough to face his heartbreak again.

tagging: @tonystankschild | @andromedasstarship | @tinylumpiaa | @brattycherubwrites | @bval-1 | @kayteewritessteve |

[yeoldontknow]

Can you do it too! If you could ship your moots with any BTS member (their bias or not) what would the ships be? Also give us a small glimpse into how their relationship would look like!

omg? i swear we’re going back in time on tumblr today this is so cute. i haven’t done something like this in a looooonnnggg time but ahhh how fun!

@jamaisjoons - i’m pairing sol with namjoon for many many reasons. their relationship would be one of the most endearing and effusive relationships possible. sol needs someone to ground her, who listens to her ideas, her drive for equity, diversity, and activism, and her plans and not just encourage them but engage with them. she has the spark for a lot of things but needs a generator to keep them going - and he absolutely is that. they both love deeply, they both are clumsy. i assure you this relationship would just be so sweet.

@kth1 - taehyung is going home to maggie. i could wax poetic about this relationship for hours. the intellectual understanding here is so beautiful, but the tender way these two brighten one another’s moods by naturally being themselves is so extraordinary. it’s a case of opposite tastes attracting one another - their house a mixture of many styles and eras, but it somehow all boils down to comfort. they provide for one another, they are vocal when they’re pissed off at one another, and they come back like a sling shot ready to forgive after talking. the attraction too?? intense. everyone looking at them and waiting for them to get any of their 27 rooms in their big ass house.

@jeonjcngkook - jungkook and jords, jords and jungkook. it just makes sense. their relationship is the definition of harmony - truly the way they strive to care for one another and create balance is *chefs kiss.* they spend this relationship learning one another intimately - they are similar, but in each other they see things they can learn and grow from. their relationship is their safety net, their safe space. and together they illuminate unfound aspects within one another. everyday is new.

@yoonia - the paradise utopia that is dia and yoongi is magical. the quiet way they come together transcends language, and neither are afraid to use that language when they’re upset with one another. imagine: two people expressing anger in a way that’s like an undercurrent, a shockwave that rattles them both into silence. imagine: two people already prepared to forgive the moment an argument starts. imagine: this very fact terrifying these people, reaching for one another’s hand in the dark simply because they’ve found themselves in this space, together. that’s dia and yoongi- quiet, light lightning, with the sound thunder only in private.

@opaljm - jimin goes home to opal and finds himself adored. jimin goes home and finds himself entirely scene - a horrifying thought that somehow he can stomach because it’s her. she sees beyond all of his quirks to the sensitivity, the creativity, and draws the things he’s too afraid to say out into the open because she notices them, she loves them, and she protects them. she makes him feel safe and he helps her experience trust. and while neither of them are prepared for the immensity of those feelings, it feels right because it’s them.

@xjoonchildx - ana has fought off all 10,000 of the other latinx hoseok lovers and earned his hand. i jest - she didn’t have to fight. he fought for her. can you imagine two people with more passion? hoseok is passionate, severe, and occasionally austere. the darkness in him has always been intense, prone to thoughts of doom because he is saturn ruled. ana makes things feel a little lighter; ana makes the doom feel less heavy because she shoulders it with him. they will laugh louder than anyone else in the room the same way they will cry harder, and fight louder, and come together more violently than anyone else in the room. but that’s the only way the know how to love: with all of themselves, to the absolute limit.

@kookdiaries - jin goes home to valerie and while i’m sure this might be surprising to some, it always makes sense to me. these two people don’t have homes - they have nests. to them, home, family, food, and privacy are sacred experiences. they will create a home of legends: it will always smell of the best food ever made, it will always have the best of everything - from food, to wine, to furniture. they will dote on one another - even when they are angry, they will still hand the other the last of the meal, the last of the chocolate, a blanket to stay warm. even when they are angry they are caring for one another - terrifying, because they have never been this way with anyone else. but they transmute the difficulty together and still find a way to make it home.

pairings and relationship details are based on my understanding of each persons astrology charts. this is not meant to upset, offend, or incite anyone to anger. we’re having fun. let’s keep it that way.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Love the new game idea! Can I request Fili + secret relationship?

Hello Anon, of course you can and it's my honour to try and come up with something haha

(credit to my darling husband who approved this script 😂)

Secret relationship with Fíli

If this is a Modern!AU, Love Interest (L.I.) is Kíli’s classmate, if it’s in Middle-Earth, they’re just Kíli’s friend.

At a recital/show-match/something of that kind, Fíli goes to wish his brother good luck and comes across L.I.; they get talking and realise that they find each other rather attractive and fun right off the bat.

After they’re done, Kíli brings L.I. along for a celebratory dinner and drink with his super annoying older brother; embarrassing stories and revelations are unpacked once the alcohol starts flowing.

Fíli cannot help noticing how close his brother and L.I. are; he cautions himself against taking too much of an interest.

Meanwhile, Kíli quickly catches on to the fact that his friend and his brother keep exchanging meaningful and almost bashful glances; he had been secretly worried about both of them because he finds them rather peculiar.

He keeps exaggerating the severity of secrets he blurts out, trying to find out if those two people he loves so much might still be interested in one another if they were presented the other’s flaws on a silver platter.

Much laughter, a few curses, but no judgement or awkwardness follow.

The next day, Fíli wonders if it has all only been the alcohol and goes to see L.I.

They agree to see each other sober and without Kíli to see if they’d still have the same kind of humour and if – without Kí’s endless blabbering – they’d even get a conversation going.

Fíli is secretly dreading that L.I. and Kíli might be on their way to becoming a couple – seeing how close they had been the previous night – and he decides not to tell him about the ‘date’ until after he’s sure that there might be something worth pursuing.

L.I. has mainly understood that Fíli takes his role as the oldest and the heir to Thorin’s empire very seriously and they are convinced that he wouldn’t want to be seen cahooting with someone as unworthy as them.

They have their secret date; it goes swimmingly; truly, it’s almost too good to be true and they’re both astonished to have found someone who fits their nature so well.

On his way home, Fíli has to admit to himself that he likes L.I. and he decides not to tell his brother just yet because he’s enjoying this too much to let it be snatched away so soon.

L.I. agrees to keeping things quiet as they had already expected Fíli not to want to be seen publicly with them.

Weeks go by; Fíli feels guiltier by the day while L.I. tries hard to keep their heart from breaking, telling themselves that they’re just friends and that they should not get any funny ideas.

The whole thing – secret rendezvous, stolen kisses, furtive glances, and ambiguous messages – tastes a lot like a love affair though.

Kíli – in the meantime – tries to question both of them individually, fancying himself to be a great matchmaker; he grows increasingly frustrated and impatient with their non-committal answers though. 

One evening, Fíli finally confesses to his brother that he’s seeing someone and that it’s growing rather serious; he confesses to deem himself a little bit in love.

Kíli immediately goes gossiping to his best friend who is trying hard to hold back their tears upon hearing – from someone they trust infinitely nonetheless – that they truly had merely been a distraction all this time.

After a few beers with Kíli, they ambush Fíli and scream their disappointment in his face, accusing him of dishonourable behaviour and calling him a heartless bastard unworthy of being Kíli’s brother.

Fíli of course misunderstands and shoots back that L.I. naturally prefers Kíli to him – just like everyone else – and that he had been a fool to hope it would be otherwise.

Confusion. 

They both explain their thoughts, the truth comes out, they confess their love.

Happy End. Relationship no longer secret. Durins are very silly. 

So, that was my small imagine for this scenario...I hope you liked it...As you can see, I love them both and I couldn't help putting a bit of drama in...LOL

Lots of love from me <3

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

[yuzukult]

dissonance (teaser) || jjk & reader

title: dissonance pairing: jeon jungkook x reader genre: angst, eventual smut (but teaser is smut free baby), fluff, rockstar!jungkook, gradstudent!reader teaser wc: 1,277 | full fic wc: tbd summary: something that first seems out of reach becomes a reality for him. screaming adoring fans, billboards with him and his band plastered on it, and touring across the globe with venues sold out. he has everything... but all he's missing is you. a/n: back at it again !! i honestly didn't think i'd come back with another jungkook fic but... i've always written series' for him so maybe this time lets dabble in a one-shot. :) enjoy this little teaser!

He loves it here. It’s his dream to be here, on the stage, with the feeling of the music rumbling underneath the soles of his chunky boots, the sea of fans screaming and hollering out his name with his self-produced songs booming through the speakers of the venue while his band stands by his side, just as passionate for this as he is.

It’s his dream; he reiterates this constantly as a reminder that this isn’t something everyone gets the chance to breathe the opportunity of. He’s been manifesting this scenario his entire life, wishing and praying to the potential Gods to help make his aspirations become a reality. He’d work his ass off to make ends meet, be able to afford the necessities all while chasing this goal that many claimed to be unrealistic or unattainable. But he’s here right now, supporters that flood the building to the brim for a concert that’s been sold out in thirty cities so far. He has everything he could ever want. Girls, money, music…

But why does he feel… like there’s something missing?

Another pair of panties gets thrown at the toes of his boots—it’s probably the sixth one that night but he’s grown used to this already. In some performances, girls would throw themselves at his feet instead of undergarments, yelling at the top of their lungs so ferociously that the security guards had to hold them back in fear of what they’re capable of. And sure, if he really wanted to, he could ask them out or invite them back to his hotel room for a quick bang, and it was what he’d been doing for the first couple years, and maybe they’ll make him feel a little less like this.

Albeit it doesn’t quite hit the same way anymore.

He’s left with this feeling of emptiness when he says his goodbyes and shuts the door behind them; there’s a gap in his chest like he’s forgotten something, yearning for it to be filled but those girls aren’t the ones to do it. His dreams used to be able to—but what are accomplished dreams when you have no one to share it with?

His friends/band mates are great, supportive and understanding, he’s admitted that he’s gotten lucky in that department, but part of him believes that it’s not friendship he’s lacking.

It’s love.

It sounds sappy to the ears of strangers, especially because ideally, you’re not supposed to depend on love to have that stuffing to the brim emotions in your chest, to feel complete and whole because a pretty person fell for you and vice versa. But to Jungkook, being in love had been something he thought he could toss under the rug for another day when he’d given up the girl he’d be infatuated with for this unobtainable aspiration, yet instead, he finds himself back in the same spot years later. Missing it.

He loved the chase—he’s a hopeless romantic kind of guy. After all, how would all of his songs be so full of raw emotions like that? It’s because Jungkook lives it—or well, lived it because everything he knew about love had been left on a shelf to collect dust. And he’d try to convince himself that he didn’t need someone, but he’d grown… lonely.

And quite frankly, finding someone genuine has proven to be difficult.

Don’t mention Tinder, Jungkook has already tried that. It promptly made headlines the moment he logged into that app with a selfie he’s never used before, and still then people actually thought he was catfishing, and wasn’t the real Jeon Jungkook. He should’ve known. But in all fairness, Jungkook isn’t much of a ‘future thinker.’

Then there was trying to date a staff member—worse idea yet. That noona ended up pissed at him when he realized that this isn’t what he wanted (he’d learn she was quite the control freak) and she flipped shit to the point that his managers fired her on the spot then informed the security that she was on the “do-not-enter” list.

After that, Jungkook just thought maybe he was going about this wrong.

Maybe, women weren’t actually of his interest.

Possibly, he was into men.

So, he tried. He ventured out a little, got a little taste here and there. Jungkook even found someone who fit him perfectly. His name? Kim Hyunwoo.

It worked out for a little, Jungkook admits, because Hyunwoo was overall a great boyfriend. He looked out for Jungkook, treated him well and they shared the same interests overall.

But… that was the problem.

They got along very well. As if they were best friends.

He found himself getting a bit uncomfortable when things got a little too serious—don’t get him wrong though, he honestly wasn’t embarrassed to be dating a guy. Hyunwoo was the definition of a model; handsome, tall with these sharp facial features. He’d been stopped and recruited several times during their dates, and truthfully, it made Jungkook feel a little awkward. He was the celebrity here, yet standing beside Hyunwoo only makes him feel small.

And in all honesty, he shouldn’t feel this way about the success of his significant other. But it wasn’t even just that. He found himself unable to pass first base with the guy—something about the action itself made him feel… discomfort. But he’s attracted to Hyunwoo. So why can’t he push himself to kiss him?

Jungkook learns maybe he finds men appealing but he can’t have more with them.

So, he goes back into the dating game. Met girls all over during his tour stops; he met a foreign girl named Lily, a gorgeous girl with pretty blonde hair and pale skin. But they didn’t click. He oddly felt like they weren’t ever on the same page. Then he went to dinner with a gal named—okay. He forgot her name. But the way her dress hugged her ass made his mind go blank, so could he really be blamed? (The answer is yes.) Oh! What about that girl whose name is similar to a hurricane? She had long, dark hair that matched her lengthy lashes that fluttered over her supple cheeks when she sucked his—

Nonetheless, it’s a dud again. He’s still lonely, he sadly confesses, but all of this is too much for him to process. He’s tired of getting his heart broken. He’s exhausted from meeting girls who first claimed that they’re not obsessed then actually are. He’s worn out of the ones who don’t love him for him, but love him for his fame.

Jungkook just wants to be loved for being… Jungkook.

And when he encounters you, some graduate student who spends majority of her days in between the activities of face dug into a textbook or eyes glued onto a computer screen, he thinks he’s back to where he was before this lifestyle. Jungkook finds himself swooning, desperately wishing for your touch and kisses, but there’s just one thing he doesn’t quite know.

Do you like Jungkook for Jungkook? Or do you like the ideal version of him that sings on stage, tossing off his shirt with his abs flexing while the crowd screams his name once more, all while the veins in his neck pop when he reaches that high note?

Or do you like Jungkook, the one who still doesn’t understand the difference between an orange and clementine, the one who still has trouble knowing when a potato is thoroughly cooked, and why his socks came out of the wash in this weird pinky shade when they definitely went in as white.

So… which is it? Which Jungkook are you interested in?

[hihellogoodbyebruh]

I Know What You’re Thinking, You’re On My Mind (You’re Right)

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Black!Plus Size!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Angel are in love and these are different moments in the span of their relationship.

Warning(s): Just a lot of fluffy goodness....okay some angst (it’s me lol) but mostly fluff

Word count: 2,526

AN: This is kind of a songfic, but also not really? I think of it as a bunch of drabbles loosely connected by random parts of a song. Song title and inspo from Come Close by Common ft. Mary J. Blige. The sweetest little fic I’ve ever written. Fat Black girls deserve to be loved loudly. This is for us. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading lovelies! xo

Smile, happiness, you could model it And when you feel opposite I just want you to know Your whole, being is beautiful I'ma do the best I can do Cause I'm my best when I'm with you

The sound of a domino being slammed on the table caused several other park goers to turn their heads and see a striking woman jumping out of her seat.

“That’s domino bitches! Y’all really thought you could beat me in dominoes? Shoulda checked my credentials mofos!” Y/N shouted, a huge smile on her face as she talked shit.

The guys around the table all groaned and huffed as she celebrated her win. Coco swore up and down that he would be the winner and Gilly was just as sure that he would be the one. EZ just wanted to play and Angel kept his mouth shut knowing his girl had been playing dominoes with her father and uncles practically all her life.

“Whatever, Y/N. You not seeing me in poker.” Coco grumbled, though he was fighting to keep a smile off his face. He was impressed.

“Well this aint poker is it? Run me my money.” She replied, rubbing her fingers together before holding out her hand.

The men all pulled out their wallets and placed the correct amount of money into Y/N’s hands. She grinned as she fanned herself with the money before draping her body across the smirking Angel’s lap.

“Oh hey there sexy. If you’re nice I might buy you something with this considerable fortune I just won.” Y/N winked.

“You my sugar mama now?” Angel teasingly asked.

“I do taste sweet so I think I fit the description.”

“Damn right you do.” He smirked, before leaning down to kiss Y/N’s lips.

Santo Padre’s mayor, Antonia Pena, had put together a community fair to help raise money for the town and uplift spirits. It was also a great way for local businesses to showcase what they have to offer. Services and items were put into a raffle that everyone who attended the event got entered into. Y/N even managed to convince Felipe to have a little booth to show off his fine cuts of meat and how they could best be used in meals.

Angel was so in awe of her. She managed to pull even his grumpy ass father out of the house and she was constantly a source of light in his life. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, but he knew he never wanted to let her go. He loved her more than anything and he knew she felt the same about him. She never doubted him or made him feel inadequate. She understood even the ugly parts of him. Didn’t excuse or condone his behavior, but she understood it and always reassured him that she knew he could do better.

“Whatchu staring at?” She asked, after the kiss ended and he kept his intense gaze on her.

“My whole world.” He answered honestly and she felt herself get a little emotional.

“If you make me cry in public, I will hurt you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” He replied, nipping at her shoulder and making her grin.

I know in the past, love Has been sort of hard on you But I see the God in you I just want to nurture it Though this love may hurt a bit

Neither of them had the best track record when it came to relationships. Angel had an awful habit of doing things without thinking about the consequences of his actions. Impulsive isn’t a strong enough word to describe how he is. He runs on emotion a lot of the time. It frustrates Y/N to no end. She doesn’t operate like that. She rarely if ever acts on impulse. She thinks too much. Worries too much about how people will react to her and her actions. Her hesitance to engage in things before she’s run every possible scenario through her head makes Angel want to pull his hair out. He hates seeing her unsure of herself. He makes it his mission to help her just get lost in the moment sometimes. And she tries her hardest to slow him down and make him think more on things before he acts.

His lifestyle also guaranteed their love won’t always be sunshine and roses. The first time Angel got hurt Y/N thought she was going to pass out. The level of panic and fear she felt almost took her down. When she finally got to see him in the hospital bed, she burst into tears. Once he was healed, she tried to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let her. The one time Y/N was verbally and physically accosted in front of Angel, he almost shot someone right in front of her. The need to protect her almost overrode his need to keep her away from the more violent side of himself.

The silence was deafening. Neither one was ready to take the first step and speak. The whole ride back home, Y/N never said a word. Not when Angel was getting chewed out by Bishop or when several people practically gawked at her even as they tried to make it seem like they weren’t. She was silent as she went through her nightly routine and prepared for bed.

It was as she sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to slide under the covers that Angel finally snapped.

“You’re really not gonna fucking say anything?” He practically growled at her, glaring at her from where he stood at the foot of the bed. He had on his usual sleepwear of a tank top and sweats.

She sighed, “What do you want me to say Angel?”

“Anything. Cuss me out, kiss me, or I don’t know, maybe thank me?” He suggested, sarcasm in his voice at the last part because he was clearly exasperated.

She cut her eyes at him fiercely. “Thank you? You want me to thank you?”

“Yes.” He stubbornly confirmed.

She shot up from the bed and spun to face him full on. She had never been so mad at him. “Thank you Angel for causing a bigger scene. Thank you Angel for almost igniting a war between two gangs over one stupid joke. Thank you for putting yourself in harm's way and almost giving me a heart attack. Thank you so much Angel.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. It wasn’t just a stupid joke. You think I care so little about you that I wouldn’t fuck someone up for you?”

“I’ve heard way worse..” She argued, so used to minimizing her pain. Her dismissal of the incident as something trivial made him even more pissed.

“I don’t give a damn what you heard. Aint nobody gonna disrespect you in front of me and think I’m just gonna let that shit slide.”

“You could have killed him.”

“I DON’T GIVE A FUCK.” He exploded, making her freeze and stare at him with her mouth slightly open. “You’re mine. I don’t know what kinda cowards you been dealing with before, but I don’t play that shit. There is no joking when it comes to you. Not from some hijo de puta who has the audacity to put his hands on you. He’s lucky the only thing I did was bust him in the head with my pistol.”

“Angel…..” She sighed, her eyes closing as she took in his words. She understood his point but was still uncomfortable with the methods.

He walked over to her and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her forehead before resting his head on hers. He spoke only after she opened her eyes, “You can be mad. I already know you are, but I’m not apologizing for protecting you.”

She had to get used to being loved and protected so adamantly by someone. So often left to comfort herself and bury her hurt, it took her a while to accept Angel’s form of protection. A part of her kept her guard up waiting for him to turn it against her, but that day never came. Any violent outbursts he had in her presence were never directed at her and so she found herself trusting him whole-heartedly. Her love for him deepened as time moved forward.

You helped me to discover me I just want you to put trust in me

Y/N loved Pops and she enjoyed the family dinners with him and EZ, but she knew he was not the perfect father. He made mistakes and Angel still hasn’t completely dealt with the issues the mistakes left him with. Everything just got buried. She knew when he was starting to feel inadequate or like he didn’t deserve her because he would become even more clingy. He was already very affectionate with her, always having a hand on her back and kissing her head. She loved how open he was, but when he was going through it the touches would have a desperate edge to them. Like he was trying to prove something.

A new episode of Joseline’s Cabaret played on the tv showing off the Puerto Rican Princess’ latest antics. Y/N had on sweats and a tank top as she laid on your back and giggled at the fight on her screen. She doesn't know why she watches that show, but it was entertaining.

Her front door opened and in walked the man she’d been seeing for a year now.

“What did I tell you about leaving this door unlocked?”

“I knew you were coming over so why would I lock it?” She argued, tilting her head back to watch Angel toe off his shoes and take off his kutte.

“You’re so hard headed.” He slapped the outside of her thigh and leaned in for a kiss before lying in between her legs. His head rested on her stomach and her hands immediately began running through his hair. His hands ran over her thighs as he buried his face in her belly and just breathed her in.

“You walked right in so obviously I was right.” Her hands moved from his hair to slide down his back, feeling for any new bruises. “How was your day? Do I gotta kick someone’s ass for messing with my man?” She asked, a teasing tone to her words even though she was kinda being serious.

“I’m all good, mi dulce.” He responded, already knowing her touches were to comfort him but also give herself some peace of mind that he was with her and he was still whole.

It was quiet for a moment before Angel propped his chin on her belly and looked at her. She brought her attention from the television to him. There was a gentle look in his eyes, full of love but also a vulnerability that made her heart clench.

“You love me right?” He gripped her hips tightly as he searched her eyes for the truth in her words.

Her eyes widened at his question. “Of cour-”

He interrupted her. “Because I love you so damn much, querida. I know I’m not easy, but I try to be better for you.”

“Angel…” Her hand gently caressed his cheek as she softly smiled at him. “You are my favorite person in this whole world. You love me like no other and I’ll always love you. Never forget that. And when you do, I’ll be here to remind you.” She leaned forward to kiss his lips and felt his grip on her hips loosen.

The two shared loving kisses for several minutes before he pulled away and kissed her stomach before laying his head back down. His attention finally focused on the television. “What the fuck are you watching?”

She was unable to contain her giggles.

I kind of laugh when you cuss at me The aftermath is you touching me

“Oh, is that funny? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“Not at all gorgeous.” His words and his facial expression did not match.

“Then why are you smirking? I’m as serious as a heart attack. If you miss the ceremony where I’m awarded for my work, we’re gonna have some big problems Reyes.” She threatened, not letting that smirk get to her as it usually did. The club pulled him away a lot but some things she just needed him present for.

“Mmhm…how big?” He asked, still joking around.

“Angel!” She admonished, striking out to punch him in the stomach and making him grunt.

“You know I love when you scream my name. Sexy as fuck.” He growled, before playfully tackling her to the bed. She finally laughed as he kissed and nipped at her neck. He pulled back to look down in her eyes. “Hey, come hell or high water Imma be there. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

The smile she flashed him was bright enough to light the darkest of nights.

I'm tired of the fast lane I want you to have my last name

Dabbing her eyes with a napkin, Y/N smiled as Angel and EZ shared a heartfelt hug after the best man speech. She knew EZ’s speech would be beautiful and she thanked him for his kind words.

“You’re my sister for real now.” He responded, making her wanna cry again but she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before Angel pulled her into a side hug.

“First dance time.” He whispered in her ear, taking her hand and leading her out to the dance floor.

“How does it feel to be Y/N Reyes?” Angel asked, his eyes taking her in. She looked so magnificent in her wedding dress. He wanted to rip it off, but also he couldn’t take his eyes off how good she looked in it. If he shed some tears when she walked down that aisle, who could blame him?

“It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m so beyond honored to be Mrs. Angel Reyes.” She responded, her eyes filling with happy tears but she refused to let them fall. She just felt so overwhelmed with happiness. Even though he’d long gotten rid of the jacket, she loved that he actually wore a suit. He hardly ever wore one and it was a damn shame. He looked so delicious she couldn’t wait for them to get back home.

Y/N found herself really taking the moment in. Their family and friends watched them with huge smiles on their faces. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Angel for long as he held her in his arms, his hands always making her feel safe. This was her life and he was her future.

Her eyes twinkled as she asked him, “Ready for forever?”

Come close to me, baby (Yeah, love) Let your love hold you (Let me hold you tonight, babe) I know this world is crazy (It gets crazy, but I'll be right here) What's it without you? (We gon' make it, I love you, I love you, I love you)

[nanaminokanojo]

"Petty" | Oikawa Toru X You

CHAPTER COUNT: 1/1 CHARACTERS: Oikawa Toru X You | Haikyuu Characters (mentions) WORD COUNT: 3,300+ GENRE: fluff | romance | aged-up characters | university au | oneshot TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | strong/mature language | alcohol use SPOILERS: n/a

collection masterlist

photo/fanart credits to @/oikawalovesyouu on Twitter

"He's self-centered but he's insecure so naturally, he's petty."

Oikawa couldn't shake that comment off his head as he slammed yet another ball into the opposing court, aggressively wiping on the sweat on his forehead. The university gym was already deserted with all his teammates gone yet he was still doing jump serves as if he wasn't already so good at it. He just needed an outlet.

In his head, he was already thinking of counter arguments to what he heard being said about him. It was one sentence. One! And yet he was working up all his brain cells to think of a lengthy rebuttal to every single word in that single statement.

First of all, he wasn't self-centered. He doesn't just think about himself, or so he likes to think. He was sensitive enough to read the room most of the time and he can actually bring the best out of his teammates to the highest degree. An insensitive, selfish prick wouldn't be able to do that without proper observation and lack of awareness for others.

Secondly, he didn't think he was insecure. He didn't have to lift a finger to get the attention he wanted, and it was human to feel envy for those who are better than him because there will always be someone better. It’s just an inevitability he has to deal with.

And lastly, he wasn't petty. He's always been reactive, he knew that, but that was just reaction if not retaliation to those who want to belittle him. That's what he thinks anyway.

But why you had to say those things about him as if you were a female version of Iwaizumi – his best friend who seemed to get off of being too cruelly honest and straightforward about what he thought of Oikawa – was something he didn't understand.

Of course, he was aware of your blatant frankness. He loved that about you. You were just very insistent on your individuality and you had very strong opinions which you stood by without regard to anything. Most of the time anyway. He actually got a kick out of people's reactions when you say something without filtering your words especially when you were children, but like they say, it's never funny when one becomes the receiving end of anything negative.

The larger dilemma was that you were the only girl he sincerely liked, so much so that he was willing to lay down his pride just to have you and call you his. Solely and irrevocably his. But if you thought of him that way, then maybe you actually hated him. It bothered him to no end.

"What the hell did I tell you about over-exertion?" Oikawa heard that familiar deep voice from the direction of the entrance, and before he knew it, the ball crate was being wheeled away from him. "Enough. It's off season."

"Just letting off some steam," Oikawa stated, smiling Iwaizumi's way despite himself.

"You can do that at Kuroo's party," the other male said with finality. "Be out in fifteen." His last words were laced with a threat, and Oikawa didn't have a choice but to do as he was told. The former was right. If it's just to vent out, he could definitely do that at the party.

He couldn't be more wrong in his life.

The moment he entered the premises of Kuroo's house, the first thing he saw was you. You came in just after he did, but you bumped against him without even apologizing as you walked ahead, waving at someone else. You saw him there, but you walked off anyway as if you didn't.

"What the actual fuck?" he couldn't help but blurt out when he saw just who you were talking to.

You've always been agreeable to him as his childhood friend, but you were ignoring him on top of saying bad things about him to your friends. And now, you were talking to Ushijima Wakatoshi whom you knew he disliked with a passion.

The male simply got on his nerves for the fact that he was better at him in the sport they both played. Oikawa also hated how much the guy hounded him to join their team back in high school, talking about how he would be better off. Like how is it better to be in the same team as Ushijima was when he would just outshine him?

His mind started to run amok with questions. What could you possibly want from Ushijima? Better yet, what did he want from you? Since when were you even close to him? Oikawa almost wanted to throw up seeing how you were being buddy-buddy with the cold fish of a guy, actually managing to melt his severe expressions into a soft smile. Were you going out with him now? He couldn't take it.

Without thinking, he grabbed the shoulder of the person who was holding a tray of drinks, taking two shot glasses in his hand, and telling the person to stay where he was standing. He was able to down six shots while standing there, but before he could drink more, Iwaizumi came into view.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded gruffly, telling the poor guy with the drinks to scram.

"Not now, Iwa," he snapped, walking towards the direction of the stairs, rudely telling everyone to get out of his way.

He stayed there for almost an hour, trying to calm his nerves but ending up going feral over this couple who were making out as they pushed the door to Kuroo's room where he was lying down on the bed. To say that he killed their mood was an understatement as he harshly told them to fuck off. Nobody dared cross him being the famous star athlete that he was at the university you both attended. It was, however, useless if he finds himself losing even outside of court to Ushijima who was his equivalent in the neighboring school when it comes to volleyball. It left him with a bitter taste at the recesses of his mouth.

When he finally emerged from the room, deciding to get more drinks, he was still in a foul mood, glaring at anyone who would get in his way towards the kitchen. But his plan was all but forgotten when he saw you standing by the archway that led to the kitchen, leaning there as you nursed a plastic cup against your chest.

For the first time that night, he was actually seeing how beautiful you were, dressed in a crop top and tight-fitting jeans which were tattered in most places. As per usual, you were stuck in your own bubble, bobbing your head to the music as if you weren't aware of all the adoring looks you were getting. Well, you were a person who didn't know her strengths and denied them when he tells you. It was just unfair how he always has nice things to say about you but you didn't think the same way about him.

He closed the distance between the two of you, placed his forearm above your head, towering over you, that infamous smirk plastered on his face.

"Hey, baby," he said in a low tone, leaning down until your faces were just inches from one another.

"Hello, darling," you returned, smiling slightly. "I've been looking for you, but Iwa said you ran off somewhere."

"Have you now?" He eyed you seriously. "Weren't you just ignoring me a while ago for Ushijima?"

He wasn't able to elicit the reaction he wanted from you, and instead, you smirked at him. "Eh?" you responded in a dragged out note. "I wasn't with Ushijima for the sake of ignoring you, Toru. The world doesn't revolve around you."

He stood back in indignation, your opinions of him coming out to the surface. "So why were you with him?" He was aware that his tone made it seem like he had any right to be questioning you of your actions. He had been vocal about his attraction to you, but it wasn't as if he was your boyfriend. Still, he couldn't care less at the moment.

"None of your business, sweetheart," you told him, your words at odds to the saccharine smile you flashed him. He found himself disconcerted especially when you reached up and started fixing his fringe. "What are you acting so jealous for?"

Ah, he thought. It wasn't his place to be feeling that way but he didn't want to respond to your question in any way. So, like he did earlier, he stormed off, sticking to his original plan to get wasted.

He didn't want to say things he will regret even if you were being hot and cold. For a while now, he had the feeling that you were toying with him, but whenever he was around, your actions towards him were always the opposite of your words about him as of late. One time you'd be telling him to go away, but as soon as he does, you're grabbing his arm, telling him to sit still beside you. You'd be complaining to him one second that he was being an annoying brat and then sit on his lap peppering his cheeks with kisses. You'd be with another guy but tell him you're looking for him. You were confusing to say the least.

Oikawa didn't know what happened after he walked away from you. But when he finally came to, he had a throbbing headache and he wasn't in his room. He looked around him, straining to keep his eyes open as he took in his surroundings, shooting up from the bed when he realized he was looking at the familiar layout of your bedroom.

He had been there a million times ever since you were kids, and he had been a witness to all the changes your little corner of the world had gone through. He couldn't help but smile despite his feelings and headache at the thought that what was once a room that looked like it was made of cotton candy was now in scales of black and white, surrounded with things that were just so you.

But after all the changes, you still had that framed photo of you and him in grade school, where he was kissing you on the cheek while you grinned wide for the camera. You were wearing the matching shirts your crazy moms got you, and he knew you still kept them somewhere in your room.

Yes, he told himself, I was there before anyone else. You’ve always been the closest to him even when Iwaizumi came into the picture. Even then, he didn’t seem to understand you well enough to actually lay emphasis on the fact that you’ve known each other since you were in diapers.

Just then, you walked into the room, holding a glass of fizzy water. You were wearing only his old volleyball jersey, padding barefoot on the floor. You specifically asked for it when you both graduated from high school and you've been sleeping in it since then.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greeted, sitting down on the empty space of the queen bed which he noticed was also slept on. "Drink up."

"What am I doing here?" he asked after downing the whole glass in one go, setting it on the nightstand.

"I took you home. Your mom would have killed you if she saw how fucked up you were last night." You brushed his hair from over his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Like my head's about to explode," he muttered.

You clucked your tongue. "Why did you have to drink so much anyway?"

Instead of answering you, he laid back down on the bed, turning away from you. He had every intention to ignore you after that, but it wasn't long before he felt you coming closer to him, propping your chin on his arm while you draped yours over his waist.

"You're sulking, Toru."

He took the pillow from under his head to hide his head under it. "I don't wanna do this today, Y/N."

"Do what? What exactly are we doing?"

The audacity to ask, he said at the back of his mind, biting his tongue. He didn't say anything and just stayed still.

"Hey, I asked you a question," you continued to badger him. "You've been acting off since a week ago. What's up?"

He refused to satisfy you with a response thinking you ought to realize what it was exactly that you two had been doing, dancing around each other yet skirting around the real issues between you. You couldn't be that oblivious of his affections and you weren't exactly passive either.

Nevertheless, you always had a way of turning things to your favor, and before he knew it, he was falling off the bed after you kicked him off it, nearly landing face down if it weren't for his fast reflexes.

"Y/N!" he whined, remaining seated on the floor as he clutched on his head. He half expected you to laugh at his predicament, but when he met your eyes, he regretted it, seeing the serious expression you had.

"You should know by now that I hate it when I am denied things I want to know especially those which involve me," you told him, cocking your head to the direction of the bed. You sounded menacing, so far from the gentle voice you always used when talking to him. "Stop being a brat. Get back here and talk to me properly."

"You're the one who kicked me!" he protested as he stood up, doing as he was told nonetheless, sitting up and leaning on the headboard.

"So, what's your problem?"

"I'm jealous of Ushijima," he returned promptly his brown eyes also taking a severe quality to it as he eyed you.

You arched a brow at him. "What's new about that?"

"At least before, he didn't have you, too. Now..." He sighed. "You're friends with him now? What was that about last night?"

"Are you serious right now? I had business with the guy."

Oikawa scoffed. "What business are you talking about that he's all smiles at you like that? He only ever smiles around his girlfriend –"

"Exactly," you countered, openly savoring the look on his face when he realized just what he was saying. "He ordered a huge consignment of rare live flowers for his girlfriend so I informed him it had been delivered. Our family as ikebana* artists and horticulturist do that for a living."

"What?"

You shrugged. "You're assuming things again."

Oikawa blinked, feeling defeated at your sound reasoning, but he still has bones to pick with you. "That's not just my problem with you. What are we really, Y/N? I don't get how you're ignoring me and suddenly being sweet. I'm getting mixed signals here. And don't think for a second that I didn't hear about what you told your friends about me."

He narrowed his eyes at you, smirking when he saw how your eyes rounded, finally able to take you off guard like you usually did to him. For once, he wanted you to lose your footing and come clean about what you really thought about him…how you really felt.

"Hmm. What exactly did I say about you?" you asked, the caution in your tone obvious.

"You know it, Y/N. Don't you dare make me jump all the hoops!" he stated, losing his temper.

You shook your head, not understanding where his choleric attitude was coming from. You knew better than to level your irritation with his, and you were so used to his antics that you found yourself almost unaffected by his crusty demeanor. "I really don't know what you're talking about, Toru."

He glared at you. "You told them you think I'm petty because I'm self-centered but I'm insecure. Ring any bells, sweetheart? And don't lie, I heard it myself."

You ran your hand over your face, frustration emanating from you. At the same time, you wanted to laugh because he looked like an angry kitten instead of the fully grown man he supposedly is.

Oikawa didn't know where your exasperation was coming from when he's supposedly the one feeling it but then you nodded.

"I did say that."

"How could you?" he complained, aware that he sounded like a juvenile dipshit but he didn't know how to react to your lack of denial for it. In the end, he just wanted you to say you didn't mean it even if he already got hurt from hearing it.

"How couldn't I, Toru? That's the truth," you stated, no bars held and your voice ringing clear in the air between you. You were really merciless when it came to voicing out what ran inside your head.

"Well, shit, Y/N. Why didn't you just tell me to my face?" He was about to stand up, but you pushed him down, sitting astride his lap so he wouldn't move. He refused to look at you but couldn’t move at the same time cause he didn’t want to hurt you in any way although he didn’t exactly want you close at the moment. "Get off while I'm being nice about it."

"Iwa and I never fail to tell you every day," you started, placing your hands on either side of his face, gently making him look at you.

"You both hate me?" he asked weakly, unable to imagine life without the two of you beside him.

"No." You shook your head. "Toru, no. Of course not. That's just how you are, isn't it? We never asked you to change. We just couldn't help noticing it, and if we don't tell you, who will?"

Oikawa Toru. So used to being fawned over that he doesn't know how to react when he is being criticized. He could admit to that, but it still hurt hearing you say that.

"Sweetheart, I did say those things about you, but you didn't stay long enough to hear the rest."

He pouted, looking away from you. "And what is it?"

You tilted your head so you would be in his line of vision, grinning the moment you realized you had him. "That despite all that, you're a generally kind person who cares a lot for your friends, your team, for me, and even if you don't know how to show it, deep down, you're a sensitive soul. And I adore that about you."

"Really?"

You scoffed. "I love you, Toru. I thought we had an understanding."

"As friends, you mean?"

You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't say anything further, closing the distance between your lips, kissing him fervently and intensely in case the message didn't come across just yet.

He gasped against your lips, caught off guard as usual, but kissed you back with as much fervor, dominating you shortly after your mouths made contact. He nipped and sucked on your lips before shoving his tongue into your mouth, immediately finding yours and delving in to taste you. Oikawa grinned when he rendered you into a panting mess, reveling in the way your hands possessively held him close.

"I waited so long for this," he said against your ear.

"Make up for all those times you missed out then," you told him with a smug grin.

"Heh. You asked for it."

He flipped you both over on the bed making you burst out in a fit of giggles, kissing you stupid, his hands touching everywhere he could reach, your clothes and his mixing in a pile on the floor while he made sweet love to you.

Oikawa Toru. He's self-centered but he's insecure so naturally, he's petty. But he was not just that. He's also the guy you loved to smithereens because you knew that those other facets of him – the good ones – exist.

-the end-

TERMINOLOGIES:

*ikebana (活け花) - traditional Japanese art of arranging flowers

My first try at Haikyuu...god d*mn you, both, @kenkinori and @ushiwaikuroo !!! XD

Before anyone comes after me, the characters are aged up as specified in the story. The beauty of literary creativity!

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY FURUDATE HARUICHI’S “HAIKYUU!”. [20210704]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[lovee-infected]

Hello! Any ideas on what each twst guy's love language might be?

Separating this request into two parts because the full post would've gotten too long.

Riddle Rosehearts

Giving: Quality time

He's the leader of not simply one the seven dorms in Night raven college but it's Heartslabyul; the dorm ran following the severely strict rules set by the Queen of hearts . Do have any idea how much he's got to do? He's got thousand to take care of everyday , so make sure that he's got no time to waste on anything, or anyone.

As he still decides to keep a certain time of day to spend with you; even if it's summarised in small talks or aimple activities like having afternoon tea together while asking you about your day, you should know that it's way more notable than it seems to be. He could've just sent you a bouquet of roses without caring to disturb his daily schedule because of you, and you would be satisfied anyway, yet he still finds you just as important as his daily plans as both a student and a dorm leader.

Let it be him just inviting you for a walk in the flower garden, all that matters is having you around because, he cares to let you know that he's always there for you when you need him and enjoys spending his time beside you; even if can't be for any more than a few minutes.

Receiving: Words of affirmation

Tell him anything he needs to hear. Tell him that he's good enough. Let him know that you believe in him and you think that he's doing good enough. Words effect this boy a lot more than they seem to; a very simple compliment can be either the cause of his overblot or what takes away the pain and tiredness of a busy gloomy day.

Because of being raised under strict rules and extreme critiques on his behaviors, his childhood on its own gives him enough of reasons to be overly protective with the way he's judged through your eyes.

He finds almost all of other love languages pretty useless to receive; Gifts can be given as a sign of a normal friendship, spending time with him might just be your way of wasting time when you have nothing better to do, going out of your way to help him may just be an act of kindness which you're used to; so let him hear you way you say you love him. He needs nothing more than you saying those words.

Trey Clover

Giving: Acts of service

Trey would be the great example of a mature and supportive partner. he's a clever, wise and organized as not only a student but also Heartslabyul's trustworthy vice dorm leader.

Just who can help you better than Trey can? And who would be this desperate to help you with anything possible except him? Chores, studies, random tasks, etc. He isn't going to wait for you to ask, he's always ready to give you a hand with anything you're busy with.

It may end up him having too much to do in his plate, but that's no problem for Trey. He's a reliable and supportive partner whom you can trust with your problems and shared responsibilities; what many people may lack. Trey's responsible and organized nature is what every couple need in a relationship.

Giving & Receiving: Quality time

He loves it whenever you're around and wants to see you feeling the same. While he doesn't expect you, his darling to trouble yourself going out of your way to help him, he -does- care to know whether you enjoy your time spent with him or not.

He isn't forcing himself on you, but he knows that there would be no point in your relationship if you don't like spending time with each other. He wants to know that you love him back and won't easily get tired of him after a short while. He doesn't mind being usually the one to ask you out or invite you for a walk, but he cares for you accept his invite in return; know that nothing cheers him up like your excitement about your time together.

Cater Diamond

Giving: Words of affirmation

He surely has a way with words, doesn't matter whether it's through face-to-face communication or online. Even his good night/good morning texts enough to make his darling blush, he knows how to have you weak.

He's probably one of the flirtiest guys you'd ever get to see; though he's his own reasons to be so: No one ever hates having someone flirting with them. The only thing that matters is 'how you should be flirting with them', which depends on your personality of course, but he's also got some secret tactics of his own which work on almost anyone.

He doesn't consider lying to be an ideal option when it comes to relationships, where you need to have trust and faith in your partner and be honest and reliable in return, but just saying: a bit of flirting won't hurt, right? To add to that, nice yet not possibly true compliments may motivate you to grow a stronger sight of that aspect in your personality and appearance, which is good.

Cater would probably make you not only feel more confident about yourself, but also trust and love Cater like you love no one; to he point of needing him to talk to you everyday, not that Cater does it all in purpose to make you bound to him but you can tell that...he appreciates being your favorite.

Receiving: Gifts

Just by looking at his room you can tell how much loves fancy things. From oval shaped accessories to chibi plushies and pillows. He not only loves being given new things but also cares to know your taste in gifts; especially the way you guess what Cater might like when choosing the gift. On the other hand he enjoys receiving your attention through gifts which makes him feel loved and, well, superior.

Doesn't matter whether he likes your gift or not, he'd always greet you with a bright smile and a soft kiss on cheek, telling you how much he loves you and what you gave him. There's a high possibility of him disliking what you gave him but - well, you're never going to know what he truly thinks anyway.

Ace Trappola

Giving: Physical touch

Holding hands ,giving hugs, poking cheeks, etc. Physical touch isn't always supposed to be dirty, he just needs to be close to you not just as a friend but also as a lover.

Friends can't kiss you on the lips when they realize how much they love you or hold you tightly in they're embrace when they're feeling like crying. He doesn't want to be -just- a friend, Ace wants to be closer; in fact, the closest one to you. His desire to touch you, hold you, kiss you; like no one else can ever do.

A lover is supposed to be treated differently, right? It's because they're special; therefore he'd get the chance to be closer to you than anyone else can. Ace doesn't want you to treat him and your other friends equally, he wants to be the only one allowed to hold your hand and hug you from behind; your one and only exception.

Receiving: Quality time

He enjoys his time with you the way he enjoys it with no one. You're the coolest , greatest and trustworthiest person he's ever seen; nothing would cheer him up better than seeing you willing to spend time with him as much as does.

It's such a blessing getting to be the one you choose to have around while there are hundreds of cooler students out there. It makes Ace feel special. Not only is hanging out with you the best time he'd ever get to have but it's also a sign of you at least -liking- him; which means that he's actually got a chance.

Deuce Spade:

Giving: Acts of service

What's the point of talking without doing anything? As he loves you, he needs to prove it through what he does for you and how far he gets with it. He's always willing to go out of his way for you even if what you're asking for is -too much- for him. If it's a chance to help you, why not? Doesn't matter what the task is, he'd always try his best.

He might goof up even with easy tasks like lending you his notes or getting you a smoothie but still , be wasy on him and know that he's trying his best for you.

Receiving: Quality time

To Deuce , someone like you is pretty hard to find. Someone he can feel this close and comfortable with...is almost impossible to be found and you're one the most amazing people he has ever seen because of it.

He absolutely adores every single moment you two spend together even if it's past in silence, just having you around is enough to make him feel better.

He sometimes invites you for walks when he's really stressed out, just to have an opportunity to talk to you. You always seem to help him by just listening to Deuce and not letting him keep it in. He's a young boy with a busy mind, he surely needs more of mental support. And the only one who seems to be able to give him the time and attention he needs is you.

Leona Kingscholar

Giving: Quality time

Isn't it obvious? He couldn't care less about the others. It's very rare of him to waste time on anyone when he's got no benfit in it so, if he is still preferring you over his afternoon nap, know that you're special.

He's often finds everything and everyone boring so sleeping sounds way better than having to deal with this uninteresting reality. Spending time with you is a clear proof that in contrast to many people he enjoys having you around, you are different. But note that this isn't enough for him to let go of his lazy nature around you, most of the time it's just him taking a nap on your lap as you spoil him like the lazy cat he always is. When not as tired as usual, he may go for boardgaming or asking you for a walk. He isn't really talkative either, all that matters is that he has has chosen to be spending hid time with you.

He may refuse to admit to it but you seem to calm him down, just walking beside you gives him a sense of feeling better than usual, he doesn't know why. Your presence slowly becomes a routine, to the point of him wanting to see you everyday. And that's how he's slowly becoming obsessed.

Receiving: Acts of service

You're probably aware of his obsession with dominance; to be the first one. Growing up being the second one all over his life has took an important role in shaping his personality; so it isn't really surprising to see that he enjoys ordering people around.

Not that he'd treat you like a slave or someone he looks down to, it's more of him enjoying you spoiling him a lot. He loves attention, especially as it comes from his beloved. He isn't really into ordering you around though, he prefers you to be babysitting him by your own will. At some point it isn't much different from adopting a selfish cat, and his jerky nature isn't helping it either.

Though you should know this better than anyone else; deep inside, he isn't as bad as he seems to be. He's just a baby who seeks attention he's missed during his childhood and it takes someone as passionate and caring as you to deal with him.

Ruggie Bucchi

Giving: Acts of service

Whatever you need, it can't be much worse than what Leona might've asked for, can it? Besides, this time he isn't forced into serving someone because he has to do it. He will be helping you on his own will. He mostly means it as a way to build up a strong relationship through being productive and helpful as a partner

It may start off as a normal friendship, with him often doing nothing more playing around and chilling with you, but soon enough he'll begin to consider you a part of his own family. He may not seem to, but he does take your relationship seriously and finds himself responsible toward you and your life.He may be young, but he's got the spirits of an experienced'family man'. Ruggie is surely one of the most helpful and reliable boyfriends or partners one can ask for.

Receiving: Quality time

No joke when I say he's got the spirits of a family man. Nothing means to him more than spending time with his dear ones does and when it comes to you, you are his dearest. He tries to put your time together into the best possible use, way more than just going for walks or simply chit chatting.

He often decides on something to do with you before hand and if he couldn't come up with anything, he'd ask you for recommendations. Your time spent together may sometimes be short so he can't always go for extravagant plans.

Ice cream dates and afternoon coffees will be pretty common ways of hanging out with him. He always makes sure to order your favorite flavor unless you want to give something new a try. Doesn't really matter how you're spending time together, he never fails to make you smile through it. As long as you're happy, doesn't really matter what you're doing.

Jack howl:

Giving: Acts of service

Nothing less would be expected from our tsundere wolf boy. He's already a best friend to many around him and of course, he's an amazing one; despite his seemingly cold and unfriendly appearance he is pretty caring and protective his friends, from helping them on school work to standing up for them when they're in trouble.

Just imagine how supportive he would be if you two are not simply friends but also lovers this time. He takes no effort in helping you out no matter what the trouble is; buying groceries, studying for an exam, needing help finishing a task or simple stuff like you needing a hug or a piggy back ride.

He often fails to realize this but he's awfully sweet; if you point this out he'd surely blush all of a sudden, turn away his head and tell you that it's not true, not that you are going to buy that though. After all you know better, under those muscles and and rough skin there's an overly fluffy heart.

Giving and receiving: Quality time

Why of course he loves nothing more than spending time with his dear ones, especially his darling. He wants it to be more than just talking and doing nothing special though, that'd be a waste of time when there's hundreds of things he's willing to be doing with you.

Playing games, practicing sports and maybe hanging out with the rest of your friends are his favorites, he often appreciates the lively atmosphere. That somewhat depends on his mood though, sometimes he wants to get rid of the quiet pace and other times, all he needs is to be alone with you as he takes a short nap. He'd love it even more if you play with his tail or rub his ears while he's pretending to be asleep.

Azul Ashengrotto

Giving: Quality time

Running the mostrolounge and managing the whole Octavinelle at the same time is quite hard; you can clearly see that he's much of an overly busy person. If there's one thing Azul prefers over money and power, that'll be you and only you. You can see the big deal here, he's offering you the worthiest thing he's got: his time.

He may not directly address it but he wants to show that he cares for you just as much as he cares for business, that no matter what great powers he's dealing with everyday; you'd still get to have your special time with him alone.

He's pretty considering toward the conversations you'd get to have at this short time; he may enjoy talking about his experiments in mostrolounge or the latest contracts he's made with the students, but in case that you don't really appreciate talking or hearing about them, he'd quickly switch to a topic which would match your tastes, something that'll make you enjoy you time with him. If he's spending time with him, he's got to make sure that it'll be spent well: He'd be a good listener, an understanding partner and in summary, a great lover.

Receiving: Physical touch

His body has always been his weakness; an isolated child afraid of who's been mocked because of his chubby body and now, an affectionate young boy who doesn't know just how sensitive he is to his darling's touch. Even the very simple physical affections such as hugging and forehead kisses would make him melt, he'd refuse to accept but you can clearly see that he's touch starved.

He's got a balance of hating to be touched and wanting it so badly, which mostly depends on the person touching him. It's pretty hard for him to let someone in and even his close friends make him feel insecure sometimes, so he decides to keep his softer parts for you and only you. He does want to be touched but by you and just you. He feels safe in your embrace and loved under your kiss, you can either send him to heavens or set him on fire.

He is weak for you, and this is why you'll br the only one who'd ever get to see this side of him. If he's supposed to be in control it's going to be for you and only you. He belongs to you.

Jade Leech

Giving: Acts of service

You'll be the lady/lord and he'll be the butler, loyal and elegant. Doesn't really need you to be pushing him into it since he enjoys playing the rule of the servant on his own, you can say that he enjoys spoiling you.

Phrasing you is also counted as aprt of his daily duties, never to be forgotten. He makes sure to remind you that he loves you everyday, maybe a small kiss or a wink too alongside of it. Give him the opportunity and he'll help you with almost anything; having your meals prepared, helping you get dressed, shopping, etc.

His favorite would be preparing your morning/afternoon tea or coffee depending on your taste. His main point is to impress you, but he'd appreciate it even more if you are the hard to satisfy type, the more challenging, the better. Sometimes he enjoys being humiliated as well because it encourages him to work harder until he hears that awfully rare 'thank you' from his darling.

Receiving: Quality time

His darling is probably going to be one of the most interesting people he's ever met; not all people get to catch his attention after all. He finds spending time with you not only thrilling but also important; as lovers you two are supposed to be each other's closest friends as well, so what may be more important than spending time together when you've got a choice?

Your time together will usually be spent with you talking and him listening as he loves nothing more than hearing your voice, maybe having something too drink to as you talk. He likes asking you questions; How was your day? Did you get to sleep well last night? Is there anything special you're going to do this afternoon? etc.

Though he's careful not to get to the point of bothering you with them. He often leaves deciding on what you should do together to you, but if it's ever on him it'll most likely end ups being a nature investigation date; mostly mountains and lakes. He'd absolutely love it if his darling is into nature as much he is, that'd be even better if the darling is a mushroom lover! He enjoys finding similar interests between you and him, makes him believe in your relationship being the perfect match even more.

Floyd Leech

Giving: Physical touch

Not to be dirty, but he genuinely enjoys it when you're close, your warm bodies touching and your breaths meeting. As he tightly squeezes you. The feeling is ...priceless.

It's mainly because it's something one can do only with his closest ones; he means to show that he's way more than just a friend. Normal friends won't tightly squeeze each other from behind, normal friends won't give each other pocky kisses and small bites on neck, normal friends would never touch each other like lovers touch, and that's why he wants there to be a difference.

He'd probably be really pissed off he sees anyone but him laying a finger on you. Even as it's just a small hug or friends' handholding. It low-key disgusts him. He wants to be your one and only, no one but him should ever be this close to you.

On the top of that, he has a thing for leaving marks behind~ You probably know how sharp those teeth of his are. He isn't into taking advantage of you, but he loves teasing you. Kissing and biting special spots such as your cheek would be one his favorite although he rarely gives it a try; unless...

Giving and Receiving: Quality time

Just as said, he isn't one to be easily attached to others; therefore his darling is surely someone special in too many terms. No need to be greatly rich or beautiful to attract him, he wants someone whom he finds interesting. Someone he enjoys getting to know better and having his time spent with.

His darling would be one of the very few people who hardly ever tire him, therefore it's always a new adventure when he gets to spend his time with you. He is willing to hear your ideas, see the way you think and possibly, how different you may be compared to Floyd.

Doesn't really matter what you're doing, let it be another study session together or taking his time to check on you after his classes; he'd appreciate it anyway. You willing to spend time with him is a sign of you preferring him over the rest of your friends, you could've been with anyone, yet you chose him. Meanwhile, wants to see his darling as excited as himself about getting to be together, it'll be pretty frustrating if he's the only one enjoying this relationship after all, wouldn't it?