#had heard that this was recorded a while back

[tttabii]

── 西村 力 EYES ON YOU ; NISHIMURA RIKI

pairing ୭ bad boy! ni-ki x student council president! reader.

word count: 9162 ; mentions of ni-ki and the others smoking cigarettes, fluff, college au!

THE STUDENT COUNCIL OFFICE WAS unnaturally still save for the swish of the papers as you flipped through another round of proposals for the festival. All the ideas had been swimming around in everyone's heads since the fall festival only a month away; some of them were truly imaginative and some just downright stupid.

You let out a tired sigh as you stamped "Approved" on a handful of ideas that might actually have a chance: a food fair, with international dishes made by students, a photobooth with a vintage train design, and a long horror escape house that jumped off the page. You had to admit it was smart. If executed well, they could get interest from other nearby schools and also be a plus on the academy's record. That was worth approving.

You finished up the last file and then you heard it; that knock. You had become used to it. Annoyingly familiar like a ringtone you had grown too tired to change. 

You groaned. "Ni-ki... what now."

When you opened the door you saw the same sight: Nishimura Riki with a crumpled piece of paper in hand and an annoyingly smug smile like he had already won. 

"I know the deadline's over, but come on—just take a look at it," he said, holding out the paper with those stupid puppy eyes he always used when trying to get his way.

You crossed your arms. "No. A deadline's a deadline. I'm not making exceptions for some dumb festival stunt of yours."

You were closing the door when he stuck his foot in like his mother owned the place, and let out an exaggerated sigh. Rolling your eyes, you back at your desk, regretting not locking the damn thing.

He strolled in with bravado. "Come on, baby. Just this once."

You gave him a glare, your heart beating just a bit faster with that term of endearment, which only annoyed you more."I'm not your baby. And you can stop calling me that. This isn't one of your little games."

But you took the paper out of his hand anyway. Because, of course, you always ended up hearing him out, no matter how much you told yourself not to.

You quickly scanned the proposal. A foam party.A real foam party. It sounded absurd and almost genius.You cocked an eyebrow. "And who exactly ae you doing this with?"

He leaned on the edge of your desk with ease. "My bros. We've been talking about it for a while."

You sigh quietly and gave the paper back. "I'll think about it. But don't get your hopes up."

He laughed, clearly enjoying the moment, and began stepping away from you to head to the door. "I won't. but you are going to approve it, I know you can't resist a good-looking guy with an agenda."

You dismissed him, "Go away."

He walked away, but not before catching the way your eyes lingered a second too long on his outfit. He has seen it, he knew it. You never stared outright—but with guys who know how to dress, he knew he could expect your attention, whether you liked it or not.

The next morning, the wind was light as you walked up the few stairs of the school, the white sundress flowing around your knees. You wore your bag slung over one shoulder, your glasses slipping down your nose as your eyes tried to focus on the paper in your hand. You were mentally reviewing your schedule for the day, already dreading the backlog of reports you'd have to approve.

You'd seen Ni-ki earlier, surrounded by a couple of girls leaning against a tree, wearing that obnoxious smile that surely belonged on the cover of a magazine. You ignored him, as you always did.

But of course, he had to announce his presence. He deliberately collided with you, and before you had a chance to do anything, he had snagged your glasses off your face, holding them above him like a smug toddler with a toy.

"Ni-ki!" You shifted your arms to reach for them, annoyed. "Give them back!"

He just grinned like he was in on the joke, and held them a little higher. "Nope. Not until you say please."

You stood on your tiptoes again to reach, and one hand instinctively gripped his arm for balance. Standing that close, he could see everything. The soft curve to your lashes, the blush on your cheeks, the way your eyes appeared so much clearer and prettier and more... you without the frames.

"You know," he leaned in and teased, "you look so much better without these."

Without warning, his other hand slipped around your waist, steadying you when you almost lost your balance. You jolted, realizing it was him, and stepped back instantly. "You're such a nuisance," you muttered, snatching your glasses from his hand and hurrying off toward the student council office, vision still slightly blurred.

Behind you, a few boys turned to look to take a good look at you.

And Ni-ki noticed.

Oh, they were definitely going to be a problem.

As the girls from earlier tried to distract him, laughing too loudly and clinging to his arm, Ni-ki wasn't paying attention. His eyes were still on you.

You had just rubbed your eyes tiredly, while waving small hellos to your fellow student council members. Your dress was hugging you beautifully perfect—elegant while also feeling effortlessly comfortable.

Your hair was down with soft waves and a small white bunny pin on the side, held back just enough. Your bangs framed your face gently, loose and natural. He thought you looked way too cute for someone who claimed to be tired.

His eyes dropped down to your lips. You had put a light gloss on your lips—subtle and pretty but also dangerous. He wondered what type of lipstick it was. Actually, maybe he didn't care. Maybe he would just wipe it off with his lips if given the chance. Those girls would for sure be jealous.

But they didn't matter.

He had long stopped being a playboy, the moment he actually laid eyes on you for the first time. It all started weeks ago in the infirmary. He was only there to skip class, claiming to be sick when in reality he just wanted air conditioning and a decent bed. He was about to fall asleep himself—until he noticed you.

You were all curled up on one of the beds, face slightly to the window so that warm sunlight hit your cheeks. You looked peaceful at first, and then your brows furrowed as the discomfort woke you. A heat pack pressed to your stomach, and you were hugging a pillow tightly. He wasn't expecting that.

The cold, powerful student council president fitted into the bed, looking so small, like a girl who just wanted to survive painful cramps in peace. That was the moment he realized there was more to you than just a sharp tongue and standing straight. When you did wake up, he was there, watching you.

"Can I help you?" you asked flatly, your eyes still narrowed as if you just woke up.

"Yeah," he said, already smirking. "Do you mind giving me a little kiss?"

You grimaced. "Are we deadass right now..."

You then stood up and walked away without second thought. And yet, you still lingered in his thoughts.

The very next day, you caught him smoking behind the school building with Jake and a few others. He figured he was done for—but Jake gave you those ridiculous puppy eyes and, surprisingly, you let them off with a warning. Strict, but not cruel.

He remembered how close you stood when you handed out the warning. Your cherry-sweet perfume hit him all at once. You avoided his gaze when he looked straight at you. He saw the way your fingers fidgeted at your side. Even then, he could tell: you weren't as cold as you pretended to be.

Later, his friends told him you were actually younger—by a full year. The first and youngest student council president their school had ever had. You earned that title by merit, not by a favor—organization, leadership, and grace under pressure.

The resentment that came from the assistant president—also one of Ni-ki's exes, the one that lasted all of one month—was inevitable. Actually, almost every relationship he ever had lasted a month. If not, even less time.

But it all stopped once he started seeing you from a distance. And realized something even worse—

You might be unattainable. 

If someone good—really good—were to notice you, they could take your heart before he got the chance to do it. Someone with no bad boy reputation; who had no gossip flying around like second skin. A clean-cut man who liked cold girls with secret warmth who would treat you right. And never make you cry. Someone worthy of you.

But he also knew... you weren't cold. Not really. And he certainly was not going to let anyone else be the first to warm you up.Not without a fight.

('−ㅿ−')

It was already the evening, the softly lit glow of the sunset streaming through the windows as students hurried about with flyers, costumes, posters, decorations—the whole deal. Some students were juiced and rehearsing on the quad lawn. Others were in deeper planning meetings, but you had just ended yours with the council. Your arms were filled with files and event charts—everything neatly color-coded.

That was when it happened.

Yunah. Again.

She plowed into you on purpose right outside the council room, her shoulder hitting your shoulder harder than it needed to have . You twisted your heel a bit, and your knee smashed into the cold, hard, and rough concrete floor, scraping it hard against the tiles.

"Oop-sorry," she said with her make-believe sweet voice as she never even turned her head as she took off down the hallway.

You took a deep breath, moving your hair back and squeezing the files harder to your chest. "It's fine," you murmured to yourself, hoping to sound more convincingly steady than you felt. 

You stood up, brushing the dust from your skirt, and limped forward—unaware of the thin trail of blood running down your knee. You had a job to do. The gym was the final stop on your daily rounds. After this, you could go back to your dorm, shower, and maybe nap before the late council online meeting tonight.

You pushed the gym doors open.

The air carried that rubber flooring odor mixed with sweat, pierced with metallic clinks of weight and the sounds of boys' voices. You had your clipboard in one hand, scanning the space quickly and efficiently. Everything in order. Equipment in appropriate locations. Towels where towels belong. Floors clear. Good.

And then you saw him. Ni-ki.

He was rocking a black tank and pants, hair slightly wet against his forehead. He was seated at a weights machine, forearms pumping with veins as he effortlessly lifted. You could see his biceps flex every time he pulled the weights, and your breath caught in your throat before you reignited and glanced away in a panic.

Stay focused, damn it.

You took a shaky step back, still limping without realizing you did, and flipped your clipboard to the gym report—

"Hey." 

You blinked up in surprise. Ni-ki was suddenly standing before you, holding a towel against his neck, brow furrowed as he looked you over. 

"What happened?" his voice now a lower pitch.

"What?" You looked up in confusion for a moment, before following his gaze. He wasn't looking at your face. He was looking at your knee. 

Where blood was trailing slowly down your skin, now obvious against the pale background of your socks. You flinched slightly as he dropped to one knee, his hand resting gently on your injured one. The touch was light, but you still shuddered.

"Oh... it's nothing," you mumbled. "Someone just... bumped into me."

"Uh huh." His voice was dry, clearly unconvinced. He looked up at you for a second, something unreadable in his eyes. And then—without another word—he stood and called over his shoulder to the other boys, "I'm heading out. Later."

"Where are you—"

"Sit."

He motioned to the bench nearby. You blinked, unsure if you were even supposed to obey—but your legs were tired, and honestly, your knee stung.

So you sat.

You watched him silently, as he cleaned up the wound, and then unwrap the bandage with just as much caution as he used to dab away your blood, pressing it to your knee just right, running his thumb over the bandage to make sure that it was secure. He didn't say anything again until he stood back up, wiped his hands, then jogged over to the vending machine.

He was back in a moment, and dropped a cold chocolate milk into your hands.

"What's this for?"

"Sugar," he said, now sitting beside you, again not too close, but close enough that your knees nearly brushed.

"You looked like you could use it."

"I'm not a child," you countered, though you were already uncapping it.

"I know," he said, looking sideways to you. "You're the president. Cold, nonchalant and untouchable." 

You raised your brow at him, but he wasn't finished.

"But you limp like a normal person," he added, biting back a smile.

You exhaled a short laugh despite yourself and took a sip.

Ni-ki leaned forward, arms resting on his knees as he looked ahead. He leaned back, elbow resting casually behind you on the bench, eyes glancing sideways as you sipped quietly on the chocolate milk he got you.

"Who pushed you?" he asked, voice steady, but there was a weight there, layered underneath. He didn't look at you—just stared at the gym wall across from him like your answer didn't matter.

You didn't say anything.You kept your eyes down on the page you held in your lap, fingers messing with the edge of it, pretending that the milk tasted more interesting than the buzzing tension between the two of you.

He made a small, humorless laugh. "Figured."

You glanced at him, brows drawing slightly together. "Yunah has always been looking at you like that," he said plainly, like it was something that he had noticed a million times before and filed away. "Especially when I'm around. Like this morning."

You blinked. "This morning?"

"Yeah, when I took your glasses and I held your waist."

You immediately looked away, the heat rushing up your neck as you let the memory wash over you—how close he had been, how your heart jumped and you pulled away very quickly and blushed.

"She saw the whole thing," he added, not sounding particularly concerned. "She didn't say anything though."

You paused, then mumbled, "Could've just been someone else who pushed me. Maybe it was a stranger."

Ni-ki shrugged, like he had already thought of it and shot it down. "Maybe. But I don't usually guess wrong. And Yunah... she's petty enough to push someone over less."

You took the last sip of your milk, and held the empty bottle in your lap for just a second, until Ni-ki took it from you, just brushing his fingers against yours as he did so. He stood up, walked to the bin, and tossed it without saying a word.

You stood up too, dusted off your dress and grabbed your clipboard, and walked off without saying goodbye.

You turned on your heel, and his voice came behind you, teasing."Not even a bye, prez?"

You didn't turn back, didn't answer.But he caught the way your hand went up for just a moment to scratch the back of your neck—anxious, a bit flustered—as you walked down the hallway and turned around the corner toward your office.

૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

The library was quiet, the soft hum of the built-in café mingling with the distant sound of pages turning. Instead of locked in your student council office like usual, you chose to be on this rare break in a different spot—curled up by the corner window seat of the library, nursing a cold latte, and flipping through your notes for the upcoming autumn festival.

Honestly, you were juggling more than you should be. Between your responsibilities in student council and being part of a baking club—which let's be honest, insisted on running a full baking competition booth—you hardly had time to breathe.

It was a fun idea: visitors could taste different pastries and vote on the best one, provided the participants knew what they were doing. This wasn't a bake-off for beginner bakers. You already wrote of the safety list three times.

But for now, you just wanted your highlighters. You rifled through your bag, trying to dig out the familiar pack when your fingers stopped, heart sinking ever so slightly.

One of your plush keychains was gone.The little bunny with the dark red ribbon. Missing.

You paused for a moment, scanned your open bag again just in case, and then exhaled softly through your nose, disappointment creeping over your expression.

Your fingers clenched around the only charm that still hung from the zipper, and your teeth grazed your lip as your face dipped from its normally neutral expression.

It was subtle, but still—anyone who truly knew you would see it. You didn't show much in public. Stoic, organized, composed—always. But right now, you were unguarded in a way you rarely allowed.

Meanwhile, on the rear path near the library's back entrance, Ni-ki had been taking a quiet smoke break. The wind ruffled his black hoodie a little, and he was leaning against the railing with half-lidded eyes, letting his mind wander. That was when he noticed something odd in the grass. 

A little, dirty, plush bunny, facedown. 

He stared for a second, then bent down and flicked the ash from his fingers, and carefully lifted the bunny by the ribbon.

He recognized it right away.

Of course he did.

He'd seen it enough times hanging off your bag—cute, a little worn, something he figured you probably had for years. His lips twitched in a tiny smile, just barely there, as he tucked the bunny into his pocket and stubbed out his cigarette.

You had just come out of the library, clutching on to the last charm on your butchered bag, distractedly gazing at your feet.

You were perhaps hoping the bunny had dropped somewhere close and that no one had stepped on it or thrown it somewhere completely different. And then you heard it—the sound you had grown unfamiliar too. The sound of jangly chain jewelry.

You almost choked, eyes instinctively shifting without even turning. You knew who it was before you had turned.

Ni-ki, walking up the path toward you, the chrome hearts keychain on his belt swinging and clinking as it bumped against the metal chain clip on his pants. A few charms were hanging loose, glistening as they swayed in the briefest of sunlight exposure.

His heavy silver earrings twinkled from their usual spot, and the fake lip ring—one of the things that always made your stomach twist for reasons you refused to acknowledge—sat crooked against his lip and stuck out like a sore thumb.

His messy black hair fell over his eyes, bangs as low as always and unkempt around his forehead, as if he had just rolled out of bed without a thought. He never made it look intentional, and yet it was so infuriatingly good on him.

Your hand curled instinctively around your bag's strap, trying to act unaffected as he slowed to a stop in front of you.

He didn't say anything at first. Just held something out.

You blinked.

And there it was—your plush bunny, a little dirty now but still intact, dangling from his fingers by its dark red ribbon.

"You dropped this," he said, voice low, casual.

"Oh... thank you," you said, your fingers brushing against his as you got the stuffed bunny back. You couldn't even look at him—either too awkward or maybe just too closed off—before quickly re-attaching the charm onto the zipper of your backpack and sort of twisting away. You stood there for a second, awkward, not knowing what to do, and then made the choice to do what you always did when things felt strange.

You walked away.

The faint smell of smoke was still with him, curling around you along with the warm wisp of that familiar cologne of his, something sharp and clean, something spicy underneath. It wasn't unpleasant. In fact, it felt... familiar. Even comforting. You didn't recoil from that smell. Not the way most people did.

You grew up with it. Your parents smoked when you were little, and the smell was forever tied to memories of home, of quiet evenings, and cold winter nights. It didn't disgust you. It never had. He noticed. He caught the tiny change in your face, the nuance of bringing the smell into your body with no negative reaction. He didn't say anything. Just stood silently and watched, as he always did, as you walked away.  

          ૮ – ﻌ–ა

It wasn't the last time he "coincidentally" ran into you.

You had your doubts about how accidental it really was.

Especially when it kept happening like this—in places you definitely wouldn't expect him. Like, for instance, the baking club room. Today was extra busy, obviously. You and your clubmates were trying out different cake flavors as you attempted to work your way through which flavor would be used at the festival's opening ceremony. The whole campus was abuzz about the festival, especially with some higher-profile guests likely to show up.

The club wasn't really that big, but was really close-knit. You weren't the leader—there was enough responsibility on your plate being student council president already—but you still pulled your weight, always listening to the instructions and never acting like you were above it. You liked it this way. Less pressure, more time to focus on the fun.

And today was fun.

You were dressed casually, in low-hanging sweatpants and a slightly oversized jersey top, one side slipping off your shoulder, the black strap of your bra visible in a way that was clearly intentional—it matched the design, and you liked the look. Your hair was pulled into two loose pigtails, bangs falling messily across your forehead, and your apron was already a little dusted with flour and sugar.

You stood at one of the mixing stations, wooden spoon in hand, stirring the thick, creamy mixture, wildly. Quickly, checking around to see if anyone was paying close attention - you dipped your finger in and popped it in your mouth—soft vanilla with a warm cinnamon background.

Your lips turned into a small smile, briefly so, it could've gone unnoticed. You quickly released it when you realized. You weren't alone. You added a pinch of cinnamon sugar anyway—quietly hoping—wishing, that your cake will receive more votes. That people would like it. And even if you didn't show it, you love when people like the thing you bake.

You spent time, figuring that flavour out, layering it warmth with some little surprise at the end. It mattered to you, more than anyone cared to know. You turned to help a clubmate ice another test batch, apron tied tight behind you. 

And just outside the door, lingering just out of sight—was Ni-ki, with Jake and a few of their friends, having been roped into delivering something artwork nearby. But he'd stopped when he passed the glass window and caught a glimpse of you.

His gaze lingered.

The way you smiled to yourself—a real one, so rare it almost felt like a secret. The way your top slipped down slightly to give me a glimpse of that black strap. The way you licked the batter off your finger like you didn't even know that was distracting.The look on his face changed ever so slightly.Jake caught it right away.

"Bro," Jake grinned, shoving him with his elbow. "You're down so bad."

Ni-ki didn't say anything. He looked away with a blank expression and ignored the teasing as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked ahead like he hadn't been caught.

After Ni-ki left the baking club hallway, he meandered through the main building with his usual lazy charm, side by side with his group of friends, and a handful of the girls from his class following closely behind him, still asking him questions about the course they were in—but let's be real, half of them were just using the questions to try and keep his attention for another second.

He hardly looked interested. Answering with some short, amused comments. His hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, chain jewelry chiming softly as he walked, their silver glimmers reflecting from the hallway lights. After the end of class, he stepped outside to breathe, leaning a little and then stopping suddenly.

You were there.   

Right on the edge of the main path with your clubmates. You were holding out your tray of neatly portioned cake samples to passing students. You were focused and professional—smiling only slightly, your usual guarded expression locked back on your face. Still, you had a rhythm. Offer a piece, introduce the flavor, remind them to vote at the club.

Jake stepped out of class and you caught him first, carefully holding the tray out toward him, quietly saying: "Try this one."

He took a bite, eyebrows raising. "Oh—yo, this is actually fire."

That was when Ni-ki walked up, that telltale sound of his pants chain dragging against metal making your ears twitch slightly before your gaze flicked in his direction. You immediately recognized the grey hoodie—sleeves bunched at his elbows, zipper half undone, showing a glimpse of his collarbone and toned chest.

Fuck.

He didn't even try to look good. He just was.

You swallowed hard, lips twitching with annoyance, and turned to leave when—

"You're just going to ignore me after giving Jake cake, huh? Damn," he called out behind you, his tone casual but still hinting at that smirk. "What a president you are."

You froze for a second, rolled your eyes slowly, then turned back and deadpanned. "Do you want to try it or not?"

He raised an eyebrow, stepping in a little closer. He still had his hands in his pockets. "Have you even tried your own cake?"

You gave him a confused look. "No. Except for the batter."

He smirked, that lazy smug smirk of his. "Try it, baby."

You exhaled sharply. "I told you to stop calling me that."

Jake snorted. "You two sound married."

Before you could snap back, Ni-ki moved casually and took the small plastic fork out from your hand and shoved a bite of your own cake in your mouth before you could stop him. "Mmh!" You choked, in shock, at how fast he'd gotten the fork around your lips. 

He smirked wider. Then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he leaned in and dragged the same fork through the cream on the remaining cake sample and licked it clean with a hum of approval. "Damn. That's actually so good."

You were still flustered, wiping your lips when his eyes locked onto your mouth. There was whipped cream clinging to the corner. He didn't say anything for a few more seconds, and before you could wipe it away yourself, he discreetly used his thumb—almost teasingly—to brush it off gently.

"Sweet," he muttered quietly before licking off his own thumb with a satisfied expression on his face.

Your brain literally flat-lined for a second.Then you heard it—a voice that could ruin any moment.

"Ugh. Didn't think she was the one who baked it. Looks like someone's using her position for pity points," a girl's voice sneered from behind. She was clearly talking to her friend, but her eyes were on you.

One of Ni-ki's exes—not Yunah. Another one. Pick-me energy, rude smile, and only trying not to conceal the blame dripping off her every feature.

Ni-ki's whole face changed right away, jaw tensing—but he was still not reacting outwardly. Just standing there, silent. Like the calm before the storm. Pretending like neither of you heard it, still clear as day.

You muttered to yourself more than you were talking to him, "Why do you date such weird girls?"

His gaze darted back to you, the tension in his shoulders relaxing just a little as he tilted his head. "Aren't you a weirdo one, too?"

You scoffed, "Well, we're not dating. And we'll never date."

That amusement, sharp look returned to his face—one brow raised, his eyes seeming to dip for one impossibly small moment to your bare shoulder. The little curve of your collarbone showed under your loose jersey top. It wasn't scandalous, if anything it was trending. A lot of girls wore it. But you saw where his eyes traveled and the way they paused made your heart skip.

"Mhm," he said with a hint of a smirk, and his voice low. "Whatever you say, princess."

The word dripped off his tongue, a bit of tease and a bit of dare. Jake, still chewing on his second sample, muttered "This is better than Jungwon's K-dramas." 

You rolled your eyes, spun around, and whipped away in a whirlwind—muttering curses under your breath—but not before hearing Ni-ki chuckle behind you.

Then the votes were tallied and the results posted on the club board.

You saw your name first again. You blinked at it for a second until the club members screamed and brought you in for a mini group hug. You had won. That cake would be served to our guests for tonight's festival.

A smile immediately stretched across your face as your club began preparing to haul the cake to the display area. The cake, embellished with whipped cream, fruit slices and nice touches, looked beautiful. You just gave them a few quick instructions about not tilting the tray or turning the garnishes around. It had to be perfect as it sat there until tonight.

By the time everything was settled and the club booth was set up, the grounds were starting to fill with energy. Students were dragging props out, hanging decorations, testing lights and microphone systems. Music faintly played in the background, greetings were being shouted from all over the campus, and the buzz was everywhere.

It was only 10 a.m. but the ambience was already wild— and it wouldn't be until 7 p.m. tonight before the real thing began.

Still, after baking the entire morning and walking in and out of the sun making sure every tiny thing was in place, you were parched.

You held your printed speech in one hand, eyes scanning it while your throat started to feel dry and rough. You glanced around the campus yard, seeing booths still half-open—no one seemed to be selling drinks yet.

Then, without warning, a warm hand pressed gently onto your shoulder.

You turned around.

Ni-ki stood there clad in a black tank top, silver chain at his collarbone, and hair still damp from the heat. His fingers were cold from touching your shoulder, but in his hand was a small chilled yogurt drink pack, the same kind you used to drink with breakfast while still trying to rush out the door.

He just held it out to you, saying nothing, eyes soft but unreadable.

You blinked at it then at him. "You looked like you were about to pass out," he said as simply as ever. "Take it. It's good for you in the morning. Probiotics and all that."

"...Thanks," you mumbled as you took it. The cold plastic felt so nice in your hand, and you didn't realize how badly you needed it until now.

You poked the straw in and sipped as he stood beside you, like it was totally normal. "You ditched your booth?" you asked, side-eyeing him.

"They'll survive without me," he said. "Besides, they're doing the foam thing right now. I'm not trying to get soap in my eyes this early." 

"You mean you ditched your bros to stalk me?"

"I'm accompanying you," he corrected, pretending to sound offended. "Very different."

You shot him a look, but he only smiled and walked alongside you as you did your rounds. He didn't try to take over, didn't interrupt, just followed along—his hands in his pockets, his eyes darting between the booths and your checklist.

The assigned students was setting up a horror escape room, and someone from the art department was hanging huge photo booth banners and string lights. It actually looked kind of... magical. The warm colors, everything for fall. The music floating by.

You felt the excitement growing in your chest, but that familiar emptiness was also there—a quiet reminder that you didn't really have anyone to enjoy this with. Not really. Not like that. Most people didn't get too close to you. Some people were intimidated. Other people didn't bother.

You learned to manage. Ni-ki didn't seem to mind though. He wasn't talking much, but he matched your pace, sometimes handing his bottle of water to you without asking when he saw you squint from the sun. His presence was annoyingly... soothing. You hated how comfortable you were getting with it.  

At one point, he tilted his head toward the large LED board being wheeled toward the main stage. "You nervous for the speech?"

You shrugged. "It's just a welcome speech. I've done worse."

"You practicing earlier was kinda cute."

You turned your head sharply. "What?"

He lazily shrugged again, pretending he was too invested in some balloon arch being taped together across the walkway. "Just saying. You get all serious and focused when you take charge. It's adorable."

You stared at him.

He blinked at you like what?

You turned away quickly, sipping the rest of your yogurt drink. "You're annoying."

He grinned at the way your ears turned a little red."Can't be that annoying. You didn't brush me off this time."

After making sure every booth was set and all details were arranged, you quickly ran back to your dorm around 5 p.m., like the rest of your group. The buzzing sensation in your chest was starting to get harder to ignore. You took a quick shower to wash the day away and let the steam take away some tension from your tight muscles.

The shower also allowed you to take time with your skincare routine. You brushed out your hair, curling just the ends, incorporating your straight bangs to fall just right across your forehead. You picked out the little dress you had been planning since the day you decided to host this festival. It was cute, not too much. And it was enough that you would be noticed faster than the guys with their decorated crops.

You sprayed perfume gently behind your ears, the floral scent subtle but sweet. A few pieces of jewelry shimmered softly on your neck and wrists. One last look in the mirror... and you nodded to yourself.

By 6:30 p.m., you were back on the festival grounds.

Everything looked different under the setting sky. Lights had turned on—golden, pink, soft blue—casting a warm glow on students from both your campus and others who were already lining up at the entrance. The atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation.

You inhaled deeply and checked in with each of the club presidents over your phone and some brief verbal check—in rounds to make sure everyone was settled. You held the speech card with shaky fingers although you had said that speech hundreds of times. You weren't afraid of the crowd, you simply didn't want to screw this up. Not after all that work.

Then the clock hit 7. The festival officially started.

From the stage, you saw faces—so many faces—and just off to the side you could see Ni-ki in the crowd wearing a loose dark jacket and black tee, slightly damp from the foam, laughing at something Jake said as they finished adjusting the drink booth setup.

You swallowed your nerves and stepped up.

Your voice warmed through the field, steady but bright. You welcomed the guests, thanked everyone for coming, and opened the festival. You even got a cheer. When the MC mentioned the winning cake, your name was said—along with the tray. Students actually clapped when they tasted it. You stood at the side, cheeks warm, heart full, pretending not to look for a certain someone's reaction.

Later, you returned to your stand beaming as students were now piling up for pastries and treats. You handed out cake slices and mini croissants, complemented peoples costumes and hair in passing, softly chuckling when someone recognized the fruit tart from your submission. You carefully packed one into a box, waved goodbye to your club members now arriving to take the next shift, and just let your feet go where they always went these days.

Ni-ki's booth.

You noticed Jake first, then Jungwon, both were busy pouring drinks or were busy chatting it up with the students that slipped in and out of the foam pit. There was laughter and chaos, but it was a fun chaos, the type that endears you to the moment, making you feel and think this was something you would want to remember.

You avoided the foam, walking up to the drink section instead, and delicately placed the box of tarts on the counter. "My treat," you said softly, smiling.

Jake blinked. "Wait—really?"

"Seriously?" Sunghoon ventured as he looked over his shoulder. "Are you actually treating us now?"

"Just shut up and take it," you said lightly again, your eyes darting Ni-ki, who seemed to pause mid shake with the drink blender.  

They all exclaimed, "Thank you!" as they opened the box and saw the tart; their eyes widened as they cut into it with plastic forks and started to compete for the strawberries.

Ni-ki backed away from the counter and wiped his hands with a towel, heading straight for you and sliding into your space like it belonged to him. "Didn't think you'd actually come by," he said, his voice lower now, only meant for you.

"I said I'd roam freely," you said, "I just happened to look in here."

He raised an eyebrow. "While holding a box of fruit tart?"

You rolled your eyes, but a smile peeked through as you lightly leaned against the counter. He looked at you for a second—really looked. From your curled hair to the light shimmer on your cheekbones to the little details in your jewelry.

"You look..."he paused. Then leaned just a little closer. "Dangerously good."

You scoffed. "Are you working, or are you flirting?"

"Multitasking," he said plainly, giving you that infuriating soft smirk. "Wanna try one of our drinks? I'll make it special."

You raised an eyebrow. "Do you say this to every girl?"

"Is it bold of you to assume I have other girls?"

"Uh huh," you scoffed. "Wanna look at the line of girls behind me? I'm practically cutting the queue."

"Yeah, but they're obviously here to see the other guys," he chuckled as he nodded towards his friends.

You narrowed your eyes. You're not sure about that, as you caught sight of a girl by the foam pit sheepishly pointing to Ni-ki, and absolutely squealing to her friend. "I see one already squealing looking at you."

He just laughed, a low laugh, the kind of laugh that made something flutter in your chest—and walked away to grab you a drink. He didn't ask what you wanted. He just knew. A little sweet, a little refreshing—something cold and creamy to balance out the summer night heat. 

He handed it to you with a grin before casually slipping his arm around your shoulder like it was second nature. His fingers played with the end of your curled hair, making your stomach twist in ways you hated admitting. The guys behind the booth were already yelling things like "Whipped!" and "Get a room!" as Ni-ki waved them off, dragging you gently away from the foam party.

"Why are you leaving your friends?" you asked, sipping the drink—and wow, it was good.

He shrugged, leading you into the crowd. "The student council president needed some time to enjoy with a hot guy like me."

You glared at him. "Your ego is insufferable."

"You still haven't denied it," he teased, his thumb briefly brushing your shoulder as he adjusted his arm around you again.

You really tried not to get flustered. But the way his cologne wrapped around you like a second skin, woody and warm, and the way he just effortlessly steered you through the crowd like he belonged beside you, it was too much.

He led you right to the food district. The lights here were golden and warm, and the stalls were bursting with colors and scents. You let him lead you to a takoyaki stall, and you could see that his eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"Alright, this one is non-negotiable," he said. "You have to try this."

"Why?" you asked, letting him handle the ordering.

"Because I'm Japanese," he said with pride, "and I'm making it my mission to teach you all the things that are tasty."

You blinked, your lip curling. "So you're essentially flexing your culture onto me?"

"Damn right," he smirked. "You need to know what actual good food is."

You and him moved from booth to booth trying mochi, karaage, yakisoba—him explaining each dish with that stupid twinkle in his eye, the way he seemed to be sharing part of himself with you, and you paying way too much attention for someone who swore to not fall into his trap.

People noticed—of course they did. Your usual cold expression had softened, and Ni-ki, the boy known for charming every girl that breathed near him, hadn't flirted with anyone else the entire month. Not once. Just talked politely when someone approached, but his attention always snapped right back to you. Boys who usually tried to talk to you looked away, realizing they didn't stand a chance when Ni-ki was practically glued to your side.

You pretended not to care.

But your fingers brushed his when he handed you another skewer, and your heart jumped. Just a little.

Then, he turned to you again with a glint in his eye.

"Wanna try the horror escape room next?"

You froze. "Like... right now?"

His smirk widened. "You're not scared, are you?"

"No," you lied immediately.

You couldn't understand why you agreed to it—perhaps it was how his eyes lit up with mischief, or how smug he looked when he said, "Scared? You?"

But here you stood, at the door of a horror escape room, regretting your whole life. Ni-ki handed the entrance tickets to the usher in one hand, and took your hand with the other—and just like that, he was pulling you inside. His jacket was draped loosely over your shoulders—warm, slightly big, the sleeves covering your hands because the moment you'd shivered earlier, he had taken it off without a word, and draped it around you, and now you were holding onto it like it was a lifeline.

As the door creaked shut behind you, darkness covered the room and creepy music began to play, like a reverberating echo. You shrunk your pace, stepping cautiously. Ni-ki turned around and grasped your hand like it was something he was used to.

"Come on," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I'll lead."

And lead he did. You mostly let him guide you, letting your body follow his—walking just behind him, peeking out from his side, your fingers now clutching his bare arm since the jacket had already claimed you. His skin was warm, and the muscle beneath was hard, flexing slightly each time he moved.  

You almost jumped out of your skin when the first actor hopped out, wailing. You screamed. Very loudly. And you immediately threw yourself to Ni-ki's side, clutching his arm with both hands in a tight grip.

"You okay there?" he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. You nodded quickly, releasing him a little, but not much.

When there was finally a moment to breathe, he pointed with one of his long fingers to a dim hallway. "We should separate for the first part that's reasoned-"

"No." You started to shake your head so quickly you reminded him of a panicked puppy eyes wide, as if defiant to abandon him even the slightest.

He burst into quiet laughter, "You're like a scared little puppy." He chuckled, clearly enjoying his laughter at your expense. "Kinda cute though."

You scowled at him defiantly, but it probably looked like you were not even close to ready to cause any bodily harm to him being practically glued to his arm. He merely ruffled your hair with a smirk, and continued walking while you pressed against him the entire time.

Eventually, when you escaped, blinking into the hallway lights as you exited the room, you shoved him softly with your hand heel. "I am never doing that again. Ever."  

He laughed, full-bodied and proud. "You were clinging to me like I was your boyfriend."

You rolled your eyes. "Shut up," you muttered.

But the extra warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. You barely got a second to breathe before he pulled at your wrist, tugging you along. "C'mon."

"To where?"

"The photobooth," he said, smiling. "Duh."

The tiny booth was only about big enough for the two of you—warm and faded with the weight of the last couple, barely lit by peeking neon hearts that flickered with the camera sensor. As soon as you crossed the threshold, Ni-ki plopped down onto the seat and pulled you into his lap like you barely weighed anything.

You squealed in surprise. "Ni-ki!"

He laughed loudly and freely and it really sounded like he loved the sound of it. His hands barely rested on your waist steadying you. "Relax, it's just a chair, and you're sitting on me. I'm fine with that."

Not able to connect with any words, you huffed but stayed put. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, and the slight breeze of his breath on your neck from how close he was. And his hand had moved a little to play with the hem of the jacket he had draped over you.

The camera blinked.  

First photo: He reached up and squished your cheeks together, pulling the most dramatic heart-eyes face while your expression was frozen mid-annoyed-pout, lips squished and eyes wide in disbelief.

Second photo: He nudged you. "Flex your arms. C'mon."

"I don't have muscles," you muttered, but did a small awkward pose anyway.

Ni-ki laughed and put his arm behind you, flexing. The camera caught the ridiculous contrast between his sharp, defined muscle and your soft arm and the look of pure betrayal on your face.

"Wow," you muttered. "Thanks for embarrassing me in high def."

Third photo: you gave up and finally decided to just throw a peace sign with your lips twisted up into the faintest of smiles. Ni-ki did some random sign that didn't even look like anything—something between a thumbs up and finger guns—all while grinning like an idiot.

Fourth photo: You weren't prepared. You weren't even looking at the camera when you felt it—soft and sudden, a warm press of lips to your cheek. You turned your head sharply just as the flash went off, catching the exact moment that your eyes bulged open and mouth dropped in shock, a single hand reaching gingerly to your cheek in disbelief.

Ni-ki leaned back, victorious, completely unconcerned.

"You—! That's cheating!" you groaned, lightly slapping his chest.

He tilted his head, "You didn't say no."

After the photobooth, you were still in recovery mode from being surprised by that last photo—the press of his lips against your cheek, your heart still thumping. And as if all of that wasn't enough, Ni-ki went even a step further.

He pulled out his phone, and instantly inserted the strip of photos into the plastic case on the back, smoothing it down in pride. "There," he said proudly, holding it out towards you. "Now you do it."

You blinked. "No way."

"How come?" he smiled as he was reaching for your phone. "C'mon. Let's be matching."

"Ni-ki, it won't even—" you said, but he was already messing with your phone case. And even though it was clear that the case was not made for photos, he somehow manhandled the photo in there, bent in half and slightly crushed, until it was behind your phone just like his.

You looked at it trying to look annoyed. "You just ruined my aesthetic."

"I am your aesthetic," he smirked.

That was that, and together you walked back to the foam party. 

The scene had changed drastically—the field was alive with glowing lights, music thumping through the air, and foam cascading from the machines like snowy clouds. There were students everywhere now, splashing around, slipping and sliding like kids at a water park.

As soon as you entered the suds, Ni-ki didn't waste any time—he scooped a handful of bubbles and threw it directly at you.

You shrieked, stumbling back. "Ni-ki!"

Of course, your hands retaliated, flinging a palm of foam into his chest. It splattered across his shirt and him only laughed, shaking his head like a wet puppy, sending suds flying.

He leaned in close and used a finger to dab just a bit of foam to your nose. "Boop."

You wiped it off with a glare and then used your hand to pointlessly run it through his hair, making it appear he just survived a soap hurricane. His friends were somewhere to the side losing it over the two of you—hollering half-teasing comments like

"Get a room!" and "We totally lost him to the council president!" as you both rolled around on the ground, chucked, and begged bubbles to go his way. 

You were laughing so hard, you didn't even notice he was standing over you, still grinning, with foam sticking to his shirt. His chest was puffing a little bit as if he couldn't manage keeping up with his own grin, and then...

He leaned down.

Before you could react, Ni-ki took your face in his warm, slightly damp hands from all the foam. He leaned forward and kissed you before you even got the chance to blink.It wasn't rushed. It wasn't sloppy. But it was slow and deliberate, almost instinctual—like he couldn't help himself anymore.

Then, the ghost of his tongue ran across your bottom lip asking for entry, waiting. You froze. And then you let him in. The world melted away. The music, the foam, the teasing voices, all of it blurred until it was nothing and your lips moved against his. His hands stayed put, just holding you, almost afraid to let you go like you would disappear when he did.

He tasted like fruit punch and something sweet that you didn't know. Maybe it was just him.

Oh god, Ni-ki thought, heart racing as he kissed you deeper, the shy ones are always the boldest. He didn't even see the people watching or the foam that was still being thrown in the background. All that mattered was just you. 

But then you pulled away.

Not because you wanted to—but because reality struck you like a cold gust of wind. Your eyes were looking around. Public. You were in public. Your heart dropped. Your reputation.

What if you were just another girl? What if you were just a girl that he was messing around with like they said—like all the rumors suggested? You pulled back quickly, a shaky breath leaving your body, Ni-ki looked at you blinking, his expression changing—then reaching out and brushed your cheek for the foam residue.

You swallowed. Because maybe you weren't sure if you were just another girl. Or maybe you were starting to hope that you weren't.    

"Are you okay?" Ni-ki asked, voice softer than usual and assessingly scanning your face for any sign of sickness.

You slowly nodded yes, even though your heart was still pounding, and your lips still tingled from the kiss. The foam clung to your body like snowflakes, soaking into your clothes, coating your arms and bare legs.

You stood awkwardly, trying to brush it off when Jake tossed you a towel from the sidelines with a cheeky grin. "Here. You might wanna clean up before someone thinks you got into a war with a bubble machine."

You gave him a half-laugh before Ni-ki stepped closer, towel in hand, brushing the soap gently off your arms and shoulders. Then he crouched down, hands ghosting over your legs. "Sit," he said, glancing up at you with a small smile. "You'll slip."

You paused considerably, but finally sat on the wooden ledge of the booth, he looked so earnest, and you didn't want to disappoint. His fingers were soft as they wiped away the foam from your shins, just the tender kind of attention you would never have expected to come from a self-proclaimed playboy. His hoodie still draped your shoulders, still warm and slightly damp from you earlier, and your mind was racing.

And then he left—telling you he'd be right back. Just disappeared into the crowd.

You stared at the foam affect that covered the ground and your mind was racing. That kiss. Those eyes. His hands on your cheeks. His arms wrapped around you like you were some kind of trophy.

Sunghoon sat down beside you a moment later with Jake behind him and, then, Jungwon and Jay following. They were all smiling—like they'd just witnessed a rom-com scene play out in real time.

"What's with the serious face?" Sunghoon nudged your arm.

You hesitated. "...What if I'm just another girl to him?"

You could see their instant reactions. Jake snorted, "Oh please. You're the only girl on his mind right now."

"Yeah." Jungwon nodded. "You think he goes around making out with every girl in front of all of us?"

"He's been different. He barely smokes anymore, he keeps leaving parties early because you're not there... he doesn't even flirt around like he used to. It's weird." Jay leaned in, shaking his head with a grin.

"Weirdly wholesome," Jake chimed in.  

Before you could respond, Ni-ki reappeared—holding two cones of ice cream, one already melting a little. Tucked into one of them was a folded piece of paper and a small flower, slightly crumpled but clearly picked with intention.

He walked straight over to you, holding it out with a sheepish grin. "It's not fancy or anything. But..."

You took the paper cone and opened the note.

Will you be my girlfriend?

Straight to the point. Direct. Just like him.

Your breath caught in your throat. "Ni-ki..."

Jake leaned over next to you, speaking in a whisper like it was some deep secret, "When he goes after something he wants, he makes a move before anyone else does."

You smiled then—your heart flipped, your pulse racing—and looked up at Ni-ki. "Yes," you breathed.

The minute the word left your mouth, his hands were right back on your cheeks, thumbs moving across your skin like he didn't even think about it and he kissed you again. It was a softer kiss this time, but no less full of meaning. God, this was the first time you had ever been with someone like this—someone so openly affectionate, someone who made you feel like you were the only girl in the world. Like you weren't being seen, but rather... chosen.

He pulled back, smirking at you with eyes full of mischief. "You're in for a long ride, princess."

Then, without warning, his lips pressed against the corner of your jaw, trailing lower to the curve of your neck. Your breath hitched—completely caught off guard by how intimate he was being, especially with everyone watching.

But for some reason you did not give a fuck.

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

A/N: I wanted to try out making Bob more sassy like he got in the movie. Lmk what you think 

Summary: You left for a mission without warning and end up hurt. You try to hide your pain but Bob notices you're hurt quickly, it shouldn't be a surprise since he notices everything about you.

Warnings: Bob is more sassy than what I usually write, reader is hurt and talks about thinking they wouldn't survive the mission.

You were doing a fantastic job pretending nothing was wrong. To anyone else, you looked the same as always. Same steady walk, same calm expression, a fake little smile to show that you weren't screaming in pain on the inside. You even made it all the way through the side entrance, past the elevator, and into the kitchen with a granola bar halfway to your mouth before a voice behind you called your bluff.

“Really?” Bob said, from across the room. “That’s the limp we’re going with?”

You froze mid-bite. “What?”

He was leaning against the counter with a glass of water in one hand and the most unimpressed expression you’d ever seen on his face. “You heard me,” he said, pushing off the counter and walking toward you. “You disappear for eleven hours, you come back looking like you got thrown through a brick wall, and you think you can just waltz in here like nothing’s wrong?”

“I didn’t get thrown through a wall,” you muttered.

“Okay, so what was it? Off a roof? Into a dumpster? Side of a building? Plate of glass?... Your dignity?”

You scowled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Bob raised a brow and made a face that clearly said, Tough shit.

“You think I don’t notice you wincing every time you breathe in too deep? You’re holding your arm like it’s about to fall off, and don’t even get me started on the very fresh bruise I saw peeking under your shirt right now.” You glanced down, realizing too late your hoodie had ridden up. “It’s fine.” You mumble as you adjusted your hoodie.

“You know, for someone so smart, you’re really bad at lying, at least to me.” he said, already walking toward the cabinet where he kept the first-aid kit. “Sit your ass down before I have to carry you.”

“I don’t need—”

“If you say ‘I don’t need help,’ I swear to God I will smack you with the ice pack.”

You blinked at him, stunned into silence, before finally sinking down into a chair with a long sigh. Bob dropped the kit on the table and gave you a look half fond, half are you kidding me right now? as he pulled out antiseptic wipes and gauze. “You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered, crouching in front of you to inspect the bruise. “Because if anyone else tried to sneak in here all beat to hell like this, I’d’ve locked them in the med bay for a week out of spite.” You let out a low laugh. “So this is what I get for being your favorite.”

Bob glanced up at you with a smirk and slightly softened eyes. “Damn right. You get my full, undivided, judgmental care.” He was gentle with his hands, even while cursing you under his breath. He cleaned the cut along your ribs like he was handling something delicate, but that didn’t stop the commentary.

“Didn’t tell anyone how the mission was going, you never checked in. Classic move truly. Texted me some vague shitty update about being ‘fine’ which, for the record, you are not.” He mumbled as he wrapped the gaze around you. You hung your head low knowing how upset you made him, you tried to explain yourself, “It's your day off. I thought you were off duty.”

“I’m never off duty when it comes to you,” he said, too fast, too easily, too sternly to not mean anything then looked away like he didn’t just casually throw complex feelings at your feet. The words hit harder than they should’ve, but you didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. Not when he was already kneeling there, patching you up, cracking jokes to hide the tight worry in his eyes. Once he finished bandaging your side, he stood and set the ice pack against your shoulder.

“You’re lucky I’m not dragging you to the infirmary.”

“You’re lucky I’m letting you sass me.” Bob leaned in slightly, his voice low but teasing. “You say that like I wouldn’t do that either way.” You snorted. “You're unbelievable.” He just grinned. “That’s what you get for coming back half-dead and thinking I wouldn’t notice.”

And even though he kept joking, even though he was smirking like it was all in good fun—you saw it. The little flicker of worry he hadn’t quite managed to hide. The way his eyes kept scanning you like he was making sure you were still here.

“Seriously,” he said more softly now. “Next time? Just tell me. Let me have your back.” You nodded, guilt and gratitude mixing in your chest. “Okay.” Bob didn’t push the moment. He just pulled out a fresh ice pack, handed it to you, and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch.

“Good,” he said, tossing it over your lap. “Now sit there and pretend to rest while I make you tea, and don’t even think about getting up. I’ll duct tape you to that chair if I have to.” You raised an eyebrow. “You’re oddly threatening for a guy who just tucked me in.” Bob shrugged, heading for the stove. “Yeah, well. I multitask.”

And he was good at multitasking. He worried while he teased. Scolded and comforted. And lucky for you, Bob Reynolds never let a bruise, or a lie go untreated.

Especially when it came to you.

Later, after the tea’s gone cold and the TV hums in the background playing some half-watched documentary, Bob is still there. You’re curled up on the couch under the blanket he gave you, eyes heavy but refusing to close all the way. The soreness in your ribs makes every shift uncomfortable, and your shoulder still throbs in dull pulses. But worse than that is the restlessness the leftover adrenaline and quiet shame twisting in your chest.

Bob doesn’t say much. He just settles into the armchair across from you, long legs stretched out, a second mug of tea forgotten on the table. “Go to sleep,” he says softly, noticing your eyes flick open again. “I’m trying,” you mumble. “Yeah? You’re failing pretty hard.” You glare halfheartedly. “I feel like I’m being watched.”

“That’s because you are being watched. Get over it.” You huff a laugh, and he smiles–just barely. “Why are you still here?” you ask, voice hushed. Bob shrugs, like it should be obvious. “You don’t sleep well after missions. Especially when they go sideways.” You blink at him. “You… know it went sideways?” He gives you a look like you just asked if the sky was blue. “I know everything.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” He shifts, elbows on his knees, voice quiet but certain. “You came back stiff, wouldn’t look anyone in the eye. You hovered like you’re trying not to take up any space. And when you’re really rattled? You fake being sleepy but you don’t actually sleep. You just lie there and stew.”

You stare at him for a moment, and something inside your chest softens, it finally gives. You didn’t think anyone noticed those things hell, you didn’t notice most of that. Bob notices everything. And now he’s watching you the way he always does gently, patiently, like he’s not in a rush for you to admit anything, just waiting for when you’re ready. 

It’s sometime after midnight when the words finally come. The room is dark except for the flicker of the TV and the harsh lights that come through the windows when cars drive by. Bob’s head is tipped back against the chair, eyes closed—but he’s not asleep. You know he’s not. You can always tell.

“…I thought I was going to die out there,” you say, voice barely audible. His eyes snap open instantly. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just waits completely still as if he's holding his breath waiting for you to speak again. “There was this moment where I just…I froze. For the first time in a long time. And it was over something so stupid. It was a small thing. A tripwire. I should’ve seen it. I’ve seen a thousand of them. But I didn’t. And I thought, ‘shit this is really it.’”

The words tumble out, cracked and raw. “And I couldn’t stop thinking how no one would know. Not for a few of hours at least. I didn’t even tell anyone I was leaving. I just... left. And then I was alone. And terrified. And pissed at myself for even being scared.”

Bob doesn’t interrupt. He just listens.

“I got out. I mean obviously I did. But—” You exhale shakily. “I didn’t know who I’d be when I got back. Or if I even deserved to come back here.” There’s a pause. You’re not crying, but your throat burns like you could. Bob finally leans forward, elbows on his knees again, voice low and steady. “You came back.”

You nod, eyes down. “And for the record,” he adds, “you always deserve to come back.” You shake your head, a bitter laugh in your throat. “You don’t get it.” He leans in, voice sharper now, but not unkind. “No you don’t get it. I do get it. I know exactly what it feels like to walk away from something and wonder if you earned the right to survive it.”

You look up, startled.

He holds your gaze. “You think I haven’t screwed up? You think I haven’t made a call I regret, or gotten someone hurt, or came back from a mission thinking I should’ve stayed behind?” Bob reaches forward and takes your hand steady, warm, grounding. “I’m not gonna let you sit here and punish yourself for surviving. You didn’t fail. You made it out. You survived. And if you’d just told me what you were planning in the first place, I would’ve been there.”

Your eyes sting, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. He squeezes your hand. “You’re allowed to mess up. You’re allowed to get scared; hell, you should feel that at times. But don’t shut me out. I notice when you disappear on me. And that matters. You matter, especially to me.”

You close your eyes, trying to breathe through the tight ache in your chest.

When you open them again, Bob is still looking at you, looking at you as if you were soft, strong, unshakable.

He doesn’t let go.

And you don’t want him to.

I making a taglist lmk if youd like to be added to Bob's :)

taglist: @itsjustisa

[recordingmae]

JJK men x reader

you do the ‘calling my ex to say goodnight’ trend and see their reactions!

characters; Gojo Satoru, Toji Fushiguro, Sukuna Ryomen.

Might do another version!

Author; I’m actually so excited about this little Drabble! I think the trend is actually so cute and it definitely brings relationships back together😭 also this is a lil test for my writing for Megumi! let me know what your think and my Requests are OPEN!! Also sorry but yes this took me 3 freaking days to write

Satoru, G.

being a Tik tok creator was rather easy- but sometimes it did lead you to make some nerve-wracking decisions.

You propped your phone up against a small stack of books on the coffee table as you leaned back into the leather coach.

Your hands gripped a bit tighter around the home phone as it Rang. Holding back your shy giggles in front of the camera.

after about 2 more seconds you hear a voice, his voice, and your stomach slightly drops as he answers.

“Heyo!”

you stay silent for a moment before taking in a deep breath. A little scared to find out if he sounded so normal because he didn’t remember your home phone number, or if he knew it was you calling.

“Hey um what are you up to?”

a pause hanged in the air.

and your heart skipped a beat as your audibly hears his breath hitch.

“Ummmm im sitting on the coach right now’ was about to watch a show or something…what about you?”

his voice was calm but to you- you noticed how his voice only sounded like that when he was nervous or taken off guard.

“oh I was just calling to say goodnight”

You muted yourself as fast as you could and let out the heaviest sigh as you look at the camera mouthing a ‘imsoscared’

“…YOUR CALLING ME TO SAY GOODNIGHT???”

you hear gojo practically yell into the phone and you just unmute yourself.

“Yeah is that bad or something?”

“NO- I mean no it’s fine just…unexpected”

“yeah well I just felt like calling you and saying that”

holy shit you were fighting every urge in your body to let out a shriek as you heard his next line-

“You should’ve called earlier now I’m gonna stay up all night thinking about this”

He also didn’t mean to tell you that, but everything felt surreal. As you looked over at your still recording phone you watched as the video was about to end so you rushed your next sentence out.

“ok good! Think about me all you want! BYE!!”

you pushed the hang up button before launching yourself towards your phone, laughing hysterically.

he hand his mouth wide open as he ran a hand through his hair. God really did answer his prayers.

Toji, F.

it was late at night when your ‘son’ , Megumi had been bothering you to give a certain someone a call.

Despite Megumi not being your biological son, you helped raise him for a good 5 years, which made you play a pretty big part in his life while you were dating his father. Toji.

being there for the two of them, helping both of them resolve conflicts between each other, and healing parts of them that they didn’t even know were broken were just a few things you did for them. Until you started to get busy with school and Toji was getting more busy with work.

Neither of you made time for each other and ultimately that led to your divorce. Now you just have Megumi every other weekend, and are more than welcoming towards him- after all, serving as a mother figure to a boy who relied on you came with its responsibilities.

with that, you saw how megumi had a fight with his dad over something stupid. Like always. So now you have to be the middle man and try to resolve it.

However instead of being serious about the situation you told Megumi about a prank you saw on Tik tok that you’d want to do on Toji. Surprisingly, Megumi was rather supportive of the prank and urged you to do it.

Megumi sat on the other end of the coach watching the phone as it rang from your hand. You nibbled on your lip as you watched your dim screen light up once he answered.

no hello came from him, but a hum instead.

“oh hey Fushiguro”

his heart strings tugged as you called him that, remembering how he’s no longer your ‘Toji’.

“why are ya’ callin’”

“oh I just wanted to wish you a good night!”

Your eyes darted to Megumi for a reaction- hoping he was satisfied.

“….do ya’ know who your calling???”

“Yes! I literally said your name in the beginning”

“o—kay but I mean ya’ never call me to say that sorta stuff”

You heard the tension in his voice. You also saw Megumi’s averted gaze.

“well I kinda felt like it. Matter fact, me and Meg’s both wanted to wish you a good night!” You said cheerfully as you moved closer to your ‘son’.

throwing an arm over his shoulder as you held the phone between the two of you.

Toji sighed, but the type sigh you let out when you have a huge ass grin on your face.

“I wish the two of ya’ a good night too.”

“yeah…we’ll sleep well! Right Megs!”

“sure” Megumi spoke softly but a small smile was evident in his face.

“Oh an ma’— call me once the kids asleep.”

with that Toji hung up, probably feeling prideful and giddy.

Megumi was confused yet was eager to oblige in order to see what would happen.

and you were left wonder if this silly prank could just bring your family back together- especially after he called you ‘ma’ again.

God it felt good.

Ryomen, S.

how it happened you didn’t know.

one moment, all of your friends are talking about how weird each of your exes were.

one saying that ‘mine was way to clingy’

the other saying ‘mine was a scrub’

However before you could talk for yourself both of your friends had already been looking at you- “yeah yours is a fucking asshole and he’s insane”

you just looked down and sighed.

before you knew it, all three of you were taking turns calling your exes.

and soon enough it was your turn.

You were all laying down on your stomachs in your bed, your phone leaned back against the pillow as it vibrated.

ringing sounds passed and you were about to hang up but then a gruff and annoyed voice was heard.

“what?”

your heart skipped a beat for a second before looking at your friends only to see them exchange glances.

“heyyyyy Im just calling you to say good night!”

“….the fuck???”

you almost blew your cover by snorting.

“you heard me! I said-“

“I heard what you said but are you on fuckin’ acid???”

“WHAT? NO!”

“you know who’s number you called right?”

He knew if you were calling anyone else to say this to, he would go out of his way to find them.

“yes I know this is you Sukuna.”

The annoyance seeped throught your tone.

“Kay’….why are you wishing me a good night??? You fucking told me you wished I’d rot in hell last time I saw you”

both of your friends threw a hand over their mouths trying to contain their laughter.

To be fair you and your ex used to argue a lot. Thought you also made up…a lot.

“I still stand by that statement”

“Yeah sure…….im coming over in half’ hour.”

With that he hung up and you face palmed.

However both of your friends eagerly grabbed their shit and left excited to hear what happend once he got there.

yk damn well what happened

[firingstars]

in this life | ch. 1

bucky barnes x female reader

summary: "There's only one God, doll, and He's gonna bring me back to you." "I don't need God," you told him, fresh tears brimming over your eyes. "I just need you."

warnings: 18+, mdni, eventual smut, reincarnation trope, language, mentions of financial instability, memories are written with italicizes, no use of y/n, angst, yearning, longing, everyone's alive no one is dead because i said so, alternating pov's

word count: 4.5k

a/n: hello. this was supposed to be a one shot... then i quickly spiraled and kept writing so i suppose everyone must enjoy my word vomit of a series ermmmm i apparently dont know what restraint is

masterlist | next chapter

The sound of clinking utensils and pots and pans reaches your ears before the scent fills your nostrils. If you had to guess, he was making his basic staples– bacon, eggs, and his favorite, pancakes. You smile as your eyes slowly open. Your lover must be in a great mood this morning to have such a feast prepared.

In the back of your mind, you quietly wonder how in the world he scrounged up the pennies and dimes to be able to afford the ingredients. You shove it away, deciding you wouldn’t even bring it up to him. The two of you had more than enough talks about your money issues this month, and he had already done everything in his power to stop you from picking up extra shifts at the diner just to make the rent for the month.

Quietly, you get out of bed. If he didn’t wake you up when he did, then you were certain he was aiming to surprise you. You wash your face, brush your teeth, and slowly make your way out your shared bedroom into the small, cozy apartment that you have called your home for the past year and a half.

There’s decorations on the wall drawn by one of your closest friends, saving you and your lover the extra expense of trying to search for something cheap but not trashy in order to spruce up the place. There’s a few of your own childhood items also lining the walls– an old photo of both of your grandparents before they had passed away when you were a teen. It was the only photo you had of them. There were more than a few bouquets of dried flowers collected over time, given to you by your lover from various dates that he had taken you on. Other decorations include some record vinyls to go along with the record player you two had on display. It was a housewarming gift from your lover’s father, one that the two of you used often.

Most of your nights were spent dancing together slowly in your small living room. He twirled you around, both of you in your pajamas. You two would ignore the sweltering heat of the summer as he held you close to his chest while bumping his nose against yours. He’d whisper sweet words that only your ears would hear, and your heart would be full.

This man, the love of your life. 

You continued your journey into the kitchen, finding him there, just as you thought. He was humming to himself as he cooked. You couldn’t help but admire him for a few moments. His strong back, broad shoulders that carried the weight of your world easily. His hair, soft and always well maintained. The sunkissed skin that came with how hard he worked outside these four walls to ensure that you could rest as much as possible.

You reached for him, your arms wrapping around his waist. He let out a small chuckle, one that sounded like bells in a church– the most beautiful song you’d ever heard in your life.

“Doll,” he whispered, placing a hand over top of yours. “Couldn’t even let me bring you breakfast to bed?”

“Missed you too much,” you said, a smile pressed against his back. “You upset I ruined the surprise, baby?”

“Well, I can’t be mad about that,” he said, and you could hear a smile in his voice. The stove flickered off and he plated the remainder of the food before turning in your arms. “Hungry?”

“Starved,” you answered with a wider grin. 

He carried the plates over to the table, and pulled out a seat for you, then pushed it in as you took it. The same song and dance you two always did. Before he sat down himself, he leaned down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. 

You turned back to the table, pausing at the stack of mail at the side. You knew what was there– bills, ads, some letters from friends that no longer lived in the area. However, you saw something underneath the stack that you had already gone through.

“What is this?” you asked.

“What is what, doll?” he asked.

Then, he saw what you were looking at. You were faster than him, grabbing the mail before he could. You stood out of your seat, walking away from him as he tried to take it from your hands. Your heart was racing.

It was already torn open. He had already read the contents, but you already knew what was inside. You just needed to see it with your own eyes to confirm.

He stood behind you as your eyes darted across the paper. Once. Twice. Five times over again. Tears were filling your eyes, then dropped onto the paper, making the ink smudge.

He moved, standing in front of you now. He took the letter from you, your hands falling limp to your sides. You were numb all over. Reality was crashing upon you. This was one of the last few mornings you would have with him now, like this. He tried surprising you with breakfast to break the news easier to you.

“Don’t cry, doll,” he whispered, a thumb brushing under your eye to wipe away the tears. You can’t answer him. It’s difficult.

Sergeant of the 107th Infantry Regiment.

You thought you would have more time with him, but you realize now that it was a simple delusion that you were holding on to. He was one of the few able bodied men left in New York that hadn’t been sent off to Europe yet. It was only a matter of time. 

Hell, it wasn’t even a draft. He signed up to go on his own. You argued with him over this, not too long ago. It was the first argument the two of you had in a long time, both of you yelling at each other, and ending the night crying in each other’s arms.

It was a petty argument on your side. You knew that he would be taken from you whether he decided to go or not. You just wished you had more time with him. Then again, you knew him like the back of your own hand. 

He was fighting for his country. For Freedom. For you.

What could you say to that? 

All you could do now was try to swallow back the tears and sobs that were threatening to make their way to the surface, but he also knew you like the back of his hand. He reaches for you, hands cradling your face as he tilts your head to look up at him.

“You don’t think I’ll make it back home, do you?” he whispered. He sounds… sad.

“I’m scared, B̷̺̝̤̉ṵ̷̓̑͑c̷̠̆̈́̒̋k̸̢̖̰͚͔̾͐̐̒͌,” you whisper, your voice breaking as it came out. You were shaking like a leaf, about to shatter into a million pieces just like your heart. “I’ll be sitting here, waiting forever until you come home to me.”

“You know I’m strong, don’t you?” he asked, and you can hear a smile on his voice. He’s trying to cheer you up. “Those Nazi’s don’t got a thing on me. You don’t believe me?”

“I believe that lots of boys tell their ladies the same thing,” you sniffled, shaking your head. You can’t look at him. It hurts too much. You close your eyes tight, and release a singular, shaky breath. “And I see those same ladies in the diner, whispering prayers to every single God they think exist.”

“There’s only one God, doll, and He’s gonna bring me back to you.”

“I don’t need God,” you told him, fresh tears brimming over your eyes. “I just need you.”

You feel him soften against you as he stares with eyes that you cannot see. Then, his lips press against your forehead. He moves his mouth to both your eyes, your cheeks, the curve of your nose, then finally meets your own lips in a sweet, soft kiss. He’s trying to be strong. You know he is, but his body is betraying him. The soft tremble his hands have as he holds your face is all you need to feel to know exactly what he’s thinking.

“I love you,” he told you, wrapping his arms around you to hold you tight against him. “There’s nothing in the world that would be able to keep me away from you.”

You opened your eyes to see the familiar white ceiling above you. You shivered slightly, pulling the covers closer to you and over your head. You’ve dreamt of this man many times before, for as long as you could remember actually. The dreams started as a child. 

He seemed to age in your dreams just as you did.

At first, he appeared in your dreams as the boy down the street. He was a little kid, riding around on his bike in the neighborhood and delivering newspapers to everyone that had subscribed to where he worked. He would get an extra tip here or there just for being cute.

Then, he was a bratty pre-teen. In this era of your life, he would tease you and the way you dressed, then run away before you would start crying. There were times when he would tug on your braids to get your attention, then act like he never even looked your way. You two would often fight in these dreams, and he would often be the reason why.

In his teenage years, he became quite the charmer. You were still his friend, for some reason or another, and you would watch as the girls around you would begin to swoon. Other girl friends would beg you to help set them up together, to help them go steady together. You relented at first, helping your closest friend gain some experience with other girls until you decided you hated every aspect of it– until you realized that you wanted to be the girl he would go steady with.

Those feelings were held in for a long time, and never acted upon until after he became an adult. It was him. It seemed something had changed within him, though he said that his feelings for you had been a lifelong endeavor. The only thing that was different was that he realized you had finally fallen for him after so many years.

The worst part about these dreams was you had no idea what this man looked like. He plagued your mind every single night, but you could only make out the shape of his body. You memorized his touch, the way he smelt, the way his voice said your name– but it was almost like his own name was omitted from the dreams. Every time you said it, there would be a strange buffer in the way, refusing you to tell you who he was.

You sought help at one point, trying to see if there was a reason for you having all of these dreams. You weren’t even sure if these dreams were you or if you were just imagining things, seeing this mysterious soldier man through the eyes of someone else– seeing someone else’s life like this. You went through a brief period of wondering if you had some sort of psychosis induced from learning about World War II, especially when you realized your dreams were very prominent starting from the Great Depression and going into the war. 

Doctors would tell you it was simply your subconscious taking in everything you saw in the day before you went to bed, and your brain was compartmentalizing everything to allow you to be ready for the next few days to come. You thought this answer was full of shit. 

You even went through therapy to see if you would be able to get rid of these dreams.

Truth of the matter, you were attached to a man that you knew everything about, but knew nothing of at the same exact time. It was heartbreaking and soul shattering. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, how to let these emotions out or where to put your energy to. You still had school and work, and continuously daydreaming over a faceless man would get you nowhere in life.

You couldn’t help but try to find him in every single person you saw on the street, every person you met, and every face you saw online. There was no one that was spared from your view, from your thoughts. You hoped that the next person you saw was him. That he wasn’t just a figment of your imagination, and you weren’t crazy.

So, you started drawing. It seemed silly at first, but it quickly became the only outlet that you had to get out your feelings. You found this to be the only way that you were able to get the images out of your head and be able to do something else with your life. So, you drew absolutely every single one of your dreams. 

Scenes from your dreams became translated onto paper, then scanned online and posted onto your own faceless blog to share with the world. You never included any details of the dream, just that the man in your art was your muse. Someone that you could never stop thinking of. 

You drew him from your memories as a child on his bike. Drew him next to you as a pre-teen, stealing a bite of your ice cream. There were several art pieces of him with another faceless man, but this boy was never as prominent as he was. Over time, you realized the small blonde boy was a close friend of the two of you. You drew your faceless man as a soldier, preparing to head off to war. You drew him with his dog tags in the early mornings of the day, sitting in the kitchen, contemplating all that was to come. 

At some point, you had even tried to draw his face. You attempted to guess what his features were like, but you decided everything felt wrong. No matter how many times you tried, it never worked. Nothing you did could ever do him justice. He was faceless in your reality just as he was in your dreams.

Bucky’s glaring at his phone like it owes his money. Honestly, he feels there should be some sort of financial compensation given to him from somebody for the shit he has the misfortune of seeing. Never in his century-long life did he think he would be scrolling through a dating app just to see another human being wearing a suit made of fur and stating their interest was to pretend to be an animal.

Bucky had to put his phone face down on the coffee table, and pinch his nose bridge as his eyes closed shut.

This was Sam’s idea, and Steve backed him up.

“You should get out into the world, Buck,” Steve said with a smile, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “When was the last time you had a dame?”

Bucky wanted to throw his fist into Steve’s face. He’s been more well acclimated to this day and age– Steve had to know what the fuck was on these apps. This had to be some sort of sick prank done by the two of them, to mess with him.

Moreover, Steve knew the last time Bucky had someone.

He pushed the thought of his mind, swallowing thickly. It’d been a long time since then. He could still remember everything like it was just yesterday. The time had come and gone, and there was the opportunity to search. To see what had become of his lover– to do what Steve did and possibly see the end of her life.

Bucky could never bring himself to do it.

Looking at the time, Bucky realized that he could throw his fist into Steve’s face. It was time for training now, with both Steve and Sam. He decided he would throw his metal fist into Sam’s. Just for fun.

Happy with his new plan for the afternoon, Bucky collects the phone that he wants to crush into little pieces in his left hand, and gets ready for the training session.

On the way to the gym, he gave a brief nod to Bruce. The two didn’t talk often, but there seemed to be a sort of kinship between them. Something about both of them having an angry and dark side. Bucky respected the scientist. 

He passed by the lab, finding Tony upgrading some of his suits. He supposed that was Tony’s version of the gym– his tech needed to be in top shape for missions and protecting the world the same way that he needed to keep his body active. Speaking of which, he needed to visit Tony later. He could feel a twinge in his arm that was bothering him. He definitely could work on it alone, but decided that Stark would be able to figure out the issue much faster than he would.

Wanda and Vision were out of the compound for the day, and probably the next couple days. They’d requested the time off for their anniversary, which is what made Sam download that godforsaken app on his phone to begin with. Sam decided Bucky was lonely and needed to spend time outside the compound walls.

Inside the gym, Natasha and Clint are already warmed up and getting down to business. Or, Natasha is. As Bucky walks through the doors, Clint’s being thrown onto his back, groaning and muttering something about Natasha promising to take it easy on him today. Natasha only gives him a cheeky grin before waiting for him to get back up.

“Find anyone that strikes your fancy yet, Barnes?” Sam asked, and Bucky wanted to throw him on the mat next. 

“Do you know what’s on these things?” Bucky asked, ignoring Sam to turn to Steve. The super soldier was stretching one arm across his chest. He gives Bucky a look of contemplation before shaking his head.

“No. Never been on one.”

“I’m gonna rip your head off your shoulders, you punk,” Bucky threatened, making Steve laugh. 

“It can’t be that bad,” Steve said, grinning.

“Yeah? Download the damn app and make yourself a profile. Then tell me how not bad it is.” 

“Well, he can’t do that. Tried it already. He immediately got his accounts taken down because he was reported for impersonating Captain America,” Sam reported, shrugging. “He’s too recognizable of a face.”

“God,” Bucky groaned. He was set up, and he just fucking realized it.

After a friendly match of throwing hands, Bucky feels a little better. Especially when he sees Sam clutching his side after a particularly hard hit. Once he’s done with his shower and gets the residual feeling of sweat and grime off of his body, he deletes his dating app profile and the entire app itself.

He would rather lose his right arm than do this shit again.

At the end of the day, he knew that he was setting himself up for failure. He never got to say goodbye, not properly at least. He made his promises, and he meant it. Bucky broke every single word he had, and never got to see you again. 

The thought of settling down with someone that wasn’t you felt wrong. It felt like betrayal. He never broke up with you, even if he never came home. You were his everything. You sent him letters upon letters to the battlefront. They were straight essays proclaiming your love for him, along with updates of your daily life. 

Bucky couldn’t remember the smell of the perfume you used to spray on the pages, but he could recall the lipstick kiss you would press on the paper at the end of each letter next to where you signed your name.

Someone that wasn’t you wasn’t good enough for him.

No, he takes that back.

If it wasn’t you, then no one was good enough for him. You were it for him. The chapter of romance and love died when he fell off the train, unable to return home to you. He had so many plans for your future. 

Bucky had been so close to having just enough money to buy you a ring. He kept the cash hidden under his side of the mattress before he went off to war, then moved it to his sock drawer right before he left. On the off chance that he didn’t make it, he wanted to ensure that you would have it. After all, you wouldn’t be receiving the checks the military sent back home anymore. He wanted you to be taken care of for as long as possible.

He dreamed of a white picket fence with a front lawn and a backyard planted with roses and other flowers that you liked. He wanted to open up his own mechanic shop, and hire you as his manager to take care of the finances and other business related items because you were just better than him in that aspect.

Somewhere along the way, he wanted children. He knew you did, too. The two of you had spent more than enough nights, naked, holding each other, while whispering baby names. You would name your first son after him, you said. A little James that would run around the house Bucky bought for you, a spitting image of himself– another charmer. But you would teach him not to pull the hair of the girls he had a crush on. 

Bucky wanted a little girl, though he truthfully didn’t care what his children ended up being. He wanted a mini you. Cute, adorable, sassy little girl with all the smarts to back her attitude. You told him that he’d be in trouble as a father. He’d be wrapped around the finger of your hypothetical daughter and she would be able to get him to do whatever she wanted.

He smiled when you said this and told you, “Just like how I’m so whipped for her mom.”

Bucky let the memories wash over him. It was only once in a while that he allowed himself to be transported back to those days. He felt the nostalgia of every memory. He felt the guilt of the promises he wasn’t able to keep. And Bucky missed you with every fiber of his being.

He would have to distract himself again. With his stomach beginning to growl, he decided this would be the best time to raid the kitchen. Eat his feelings away. He ignored the tugging thought in his mind that he wanted to go home and eat your cooking, at least one more time. 

Steve and Sam are here as well, probably doing the same thing that he’s doing. Except without the longing. Probably just hungry from the workout, he figured. Without another word, Bucky pulls out even more ingredients to accommodate the two other men. Both notice, and take a seat at the kitchen island.

“Steve, you posting your drawings online?” Sam asked, looking at his phone.

“Hm? I don’t even draw a lot these days, if I’m being honest,” Steve hummed, turning his head. 

“Is someone stealing your old drawings?” Sam asked, frowning now. His eyebrow is creased with suspicion and confusion. 

Bucky turns, sliding over three plates over the island counter before grabbing some utensils for them to use. Both men murmur a soft thank you as they begin to pick at their food. 

“Unless they managed to sneak into the compound or mine and Buck’s apartment, there’s no way my drawings are anywhere. They’re not even in the museums,” Steve said, raising his eyebrow.

Sam lets out a soft sigh, then puts his phone flat on the counter for them to look at. He taps on the screen a few times prompting for a hologram to pop up, hovering above his phone. Bucky pauses at the drawing, eyes narrowing.

“The fuck is this?” Bucky grunted, lowering his fork.

“It looks like you,” Steve whispered, examining the art closer.  

“I’m more than certain that it is him,” Sam said.

Bucky can’t help but agree. There’s a strange feeling in his chest with each piece of art that they go through. He has no face in these pictures, these drawings. Moreover, these are things that only he knows. That he’s aware of. The apartment in Brooklyn. The layout of the kitchen and the way his old bedroom used to be decorated. The specific diner booth closest to the wall where he would wait for you to get off of your late night shifts so he could walk home with you. 

There were some sketches that even had Steve in it, before the serum. Steve didn’t have a face either, but there was no denying the fact that this was somebody that knew them.

“Bucky…” Steve said slowly, trailing off. 

“It can’t be. She’s dead, isn’t she?” Bucky asked, ignoring the way Sam’s eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” Steve answered immediately, as if he had been waiting for Bucky to ask this question a long time ago. “Peggy attended her funeral… She passed away about twenty-four years ago.”

Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and closed his eyes tight. “She have kids? Anyone that could be posting this shit? Grandchildren that went through her things after she passed away?”

“She never settled down after we left, Buck,” Steve murmured, looking down at his hands. “Peggy tried setting her up with guys that she knew, but she said she was waiting for her soldier to come home.”

“Then how the hell would any of this make sense?” Bucky demanded, letting out a slow breath, trying to calm his beating heart. “This doesn’t– This is her, Steve.”

“I know, Buck. But she’s gone. She’s been gone for a long time. I went to her grave, I visit her grave every year on her birthday,” Steve confessed, his voice quiet. Bucky’s eyes shot up at him, shocked. 

“You do?” Bucky whispered. Steve nodded, sighing.

“She’s lived… she lived a good life, all things considered. Worked with Peggy and helped build S.H.I.E.L.D. But she was just… alone.”

Silence washed over all three men for a few moments. Bucky swallowed thickly, closing his eyes tight as he dragged a hand over his face. 

“Can we track down whoever’s behind this blog?” Bucky asked, pushing his plate away. He’s not hungry anymore. He can’t eat. He can’t even think straight right now. “Find out who they are, where they are– everything about ‘em.”

Bucky wanted to throw up, cry, then throw up again. The thought of you waiting for him, chasing a ghost– you died alone. He never looked into how your life played out because he wanted to assume that you were happy. He didn’t want to find out there were carbon copies of you running around in the world, having the eyes of another man. Bucky didn’t want to see it, so he chose to ignore it all together.

Yet, this felt so much worse. It was so much worse.

“We can,” Sam said slowly with a nod. “But are either of you going to tell me what the hell is going on?”

next chapter

taglist: @duacruel @natsomens @decthaxhrcv @shortandb1tchy @iyskgd @ifuckwithyouanyday @miss-chuchu @bighappypiels @snnoopyy @messrkarmaismygf13 @thebuckybarnesvault **if you would like to stay on the taglist for this series or be added please let me know!! :)

[demie90s]

Can you imagine a scenario where JuJu Watkins emerges as the league’s rising star, and the reader is a sports journalist who keeps getting assigned to cover her? Despite pretending not to have chemistry, fans begin shipping them, and gradually, things start to become more real. Bonus points for flirty interviews and a slow-burning tension

Hot Hands & Cold Takes

ᴊᴜᴊᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴋɪɴꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

MASTERLIST | MORE

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You’re the rising sportswriter with a sharp pen. she’s the WNBA’s favorite golden girl. fans think you’re secretly in love. the problem is… they might be right.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: slow burn, mutual denial, flirtatious tension, media spotlight

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~ 0.8k

It was supposed to be a quick write-up. One feature, one angle, and I’d be done.

“Cover Watkins. Give us something sharp,” my editor said. “The girl’s blowing up and we want you on it before ESPN gets greedy.”

Fine. Easy. I’ve done it a hundred times—cut through athletes with a look and a question, cracked them open for quotes they didn’t know they were giving.

But JuJu?

JuJu had a different kind of gravity.

⸻

The first time we sat across from each other, she didn’t blink when I spoke. Didn’t fidget. Just leaned back in her chair with that unreadable smile and legs spread like she owned the floor.

“JuJu Watkins,” I said, flipping open my notebook. “National spotlight. Number one pick. Already headlining doubleheaders. No pressure, right?”

She smiled slow. “Not unless you bring it.” The recorder clicked on. So did everything else.

⸻

I tried to stay impartial. That’s my job. No favorites, no faces stuck in my head when I go home.

But JuJu had this way of answering like she was talking directly to me—like the rest of the room didn’t exist. Eyes locked. Voice low. And just when she got a little too serious, she’d throw in something cocky just to make me react.

“You always smile like that when I talk?”

“That depends. You always flirt mid-interview?”

She didn’t flinch. “I flirt with people who can handle it.”

⸻

It got worse—better—after every game.

They kept assigning me to her. And she kept finding me with her eyes before the postgame even started. We played this little game where I’d try to keep it professional and she’d try to make me break.

Once, after she dropped 36 in a comeback win, I caught her outside the locker room.

“You want to talk about that fourth quarter?” I asked, recorder out.

She grinned, already pulling off her shooting sleeve. “Only if you admit you were watching me and not the scoreboard.”

“You think too highly of yourself.”

“You wrote four articles about me in two weeks,” she said. “I think you do.”

I didn’t even respond. What could I say? She wasn’t wrong.

⸻

By midseason, the internet had caught on. A thread popped up:

@HoopsTea: “there’s absolutely no way juju watkins and that reporter don’t got something going on. look at this clip. look. at. it.”

🎥 juju biting her lip while answering a question, then turning to reader like she heard what she said telepathically

And under it—screenshots. Videos. Edits. One of me adjusting my mic while she watches like she’s studying my mouth.

The top comment?

“I ain’t never seen two people pretend harder that they’re not already married.”

⸻

I tried to pull back after that. Asked my editor for new coverage.

He laughed. “She requests you now.”

“JuJu Watkins requests me?”

“Word-for-word: ‘Get the one with the smart mouth.’”

⸻

Next game, she walked past every other reporter and stopped directly in front of me. Crowd still roaring. Mascot dancing. Cameras everywhere.

“You running from me now?” she asked.

“I’m doing my job.”

She stepped closer. “Then ask your questions. You look good when you’re focused.”

I swallowed hard, lifting the mic.

I raised the mic between us, a weak barrier. “Let’s talk about that third quarter. Was that about proving something—or just showing off?”

She smiled slow. “Does it matter? You were watching either way.”

My throat dried. “I’m paid to watch.”

“But you like it,” she said, too bold. “That’s the part you don’t write about.”

I stared at her. One second too long.

Click. A camera snapped. My name would be trending by morning.

⸻

We cut the interview short. She got pulled away. I stood there stunned, still holding my mic like it could anchor me to the floor.

Back in the press room, I was met with smirks and side-eyes.

“Damn,” one reporter muttered. “Y’all might as well date and just leak the footage.” I ignored them. I tried to.

But later that night, while reviewing footage for quotes, I paused on a still: JuJu looking straight into my lens. Sweat glistening. Eyes sharp. Like she wanted me to catch her.

Like she knew I already had.

⸻

The next time I saw her, it wasn’t at a game. It was at a media day shoot. Neutral space. Bright lights. Safer ground. Until it wasn’t.

I was reviewing a shot list when I heard her say, “You wore that just to distract me.”

I turned. She was leaning against the wall in a fresh fit, arms crossed, a full grin on her face like she had time to play.

“I wore this because it’s clean.” She tilted her head. “And tight.”

I exhaled through my nose. “What do you want, JuJu?”

“To know why you haven’t written about me in two weeks.”

I met her gaze. “You want the truth?”

She nodded once.

“I’m tired of pretending like it’s just basketball when it’s not. Not with you.”

The smile dropped. Slowly. Carefully. She stepped forward.

“And what is it with me?” I didn’t answer. Because she already knew.

Because I could feel it too—in the way her voice dipped when she said my name, in how she always found me in a crowd, in the way her hand brushed my waist as she passed just a second too slow.

We were both holding back. For image. For reputation. For something we couldn’t name yet. But this? This was the edge of it.

⸻

Later that night, she posted a picture from the shoot. Cropped shoulders. Soft eyes. Captioned:

“They always get the shot. She always gets the story.” Fans lost it.

@WNBAheartbreak: “I FEEL LIKE I’M THIRD-WHEELING A RELATIONSHIP THAT DOESN’T EXIST YET.”

@hoopsxdrama: “she said she like it’s the reporter and not y’all’s imagination. HELLO??”

@watkinsthirstacc: “nah she’s in love. no way she ain’t.”

And me? I stared at my phone for a long time.

Because no matter how much I wrote, how much I denied, I knew the truth already sat between us—burning slow, biting deep, and building into something neither of us could avoid forever.

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @zizi-bee-yapping @kaliblazin @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey

[sweetdispatch]

can i req a auston matthews story where reader is having a college graduation like for a medical grad school type of thing and like celebrating if that makes sense😓

Diploma - A. Matthews

masterlist pairing: Auston Matthews x fem!reader summary: It was a graduation day and Auston was by your side all the time and planned a surprise for you warning: none note: hope it's alright!

Five years. After five long years, you graduated nursing studies. Since you were a kid, you dreamt of helping people and finishing college was like a dream come true. You couldn’t be more excited for the moment of walking there and getting your diploma to officially have the nurse title. 

You always thought that during these five years, you’ll put your education as a priority and won’t have any time for fun but three years ago, you met Auston who turned your life upside down. He was your escape from books and studying. You could always count on him. He was your favorite person throughout the whole time. 

“I’m scared. What if I fall while walking there?” You said to Auston when you were looking at yourself in the mirror. You couldn't believe that today is the day when you get your diploma. 

“You won’t. Don’t overthink this” Auston said from behind. “You have nothing to be scared of. You’ll do great out there” He placed a kiss on your cheek. “Shall we go?”

You nodded and grabbed his hand. For the whole car ride there you had tears in your eyes. This was a closure of one of the most important chapters in your life. You couldn't believe that in an hour you’ll get the diploma in your hand. Auston could feel that you’re nervous and he placed hand on your thigh giving you a little squeeze from time to time. 

When you arrived, you got your graduate robe and cap. Quickly you wore them and felt overwhelmed. Five years have come to the end. Auston looked at you with love in his eyes. He knew how many things you sacrifice to be here and he couldn’t stop smiling. He told you to stand there and took a photo of you to have the memory. 

You two separated your ways. You went to stand with the rest of your friends who were also graduating and Auston went to sit down and look at you walking there. With each name, you were smiling, not really believing it’s real. When your name finally was heard, you took a deep breath and walked there. 

Auston was standing with his phone pointed at you and recording every second. You were walking with pride and happiness written all over your face. You received a diploma and smiled widely. In the crowd you spotted Auston and mouthed i love you to him. You walked off the stage and burst into tears. 

This felt unreal. You couldn't believe that you’re having your diploma in your hands. You hugged it tightly to yourself. You calmed yourself down and waited for the whole ceremony to be over. The last name was read and everyone walked on the stage. The photo had been taken and you ran into Auston’ arms. 

“I didn't fall” These were the first words that you said to Auston and he laughed loudly, bringing the attention of people around you two. 

“I’m so proud of you. You did it beautiful” Auston said and kissed your lips. 

“I did it. No more books and lectures. No more stress. Only working and helping people” You told him with tears running through your cheeks. 

“Can’t believe I'll have my private nurse at home” Auston joked and you chuckled. “Now, let’s get home and later to a restaurant to celebrate” He said and grabbed your hand. 

The ride back home was full of smiles and laughter. You were looking at your diploma with pride and disbelief. From time to time, Auston was looking at you and he could see the smile on your lips when you were looking at the paper. He pulled into the garage and opened your door. He grabbed your hand and walked with you into the living room. 

When you walked, you spotted the big banner with the word graduation. You looked at Auston and he just smiled. The next thing you heard was a loud scream and confetti. You turned around and saw all of your friends and family standing there. You were out of words and just looked at them smiling. 

“I know how much you wanted them at graduation so I decided to do a little surprise and flew everyone here to spend the evening with you so you could celebrate with your loved ones” Auston said to you. 

You jumped into his arms repeating thank you all the time into his ear. You let him go and hugged everyone who arrived and the celebration began. Your mother told you to keep the graduation robe and cap on you and you were stuck in this for the whole evening. There were a lot of laughs and jokes. It was your moment and you felt appreciated like never before. 

Auston was sitting on the chair, looking closely at you and how you were acting. You were just casually sitting there on the couch talking with your family and friends. He didn’t want to steal your spotlight. He wanted you to feel important but he felt that he needed to share his thoughts with everyone. He stood up and took a deep breath. 

“Can I get your attention?” Auston asked and everyone looked at him. “When I met Y/N for the first time, her head was a mess. I remember when on our first date, she was telling me about the essay she was writing about broken bones…” Everyone laughed when he said that. “When I asked her to be official, she was scared because she always put her education as a priority and I respect that but I wanted her to prove that she deserves more than just books. Three years later, I saw her walking there and getting her diploma and I couldn’t be more proud. I know how tough it was for her to graduate and I’m delighted that she let me be part of her journey. She’s gonna be the best nurse out there and I know that her patients are gonna be in good hands because I’m her patient when I’m injured. She’s delicate and caring. She wants the best for everyone. She’s perfect for the job and I know that every hospital will want to have her. To Y/N, new nurse. I love you” Auston finished and everyone was touched by his words about you. 

You stood up and hugged him. You saw in Auston’s eyes that he poured his whole heart into this speech. You kissed him and whispered i love you to him. It was the start of a new journey with him by your side and your dream job.

[kandyscorner]

Do I Know You? Part 29

Synopsis: You chat with Wally and Darla. Jason comes back.

Additional Note: I had a family reunion at the beginning half of this week, so I did not have as much time to write(I’m still behind). This chapters a little shorter and it’s made of a few different scenes rather than one continuous. I mentioned to some people that while I am adding some backstory for now it will be kind of vague. For now enjoy!!

Masterlist

Wally had been, unsurprisingly, not helpful. You didn’t share what you knew, that Dick Grayson was Nightwing, or what you assumed you knew. You did ask him if you had a strong theory about a hero’s identity and they were a friend of a friend, should you confront them about?

He was sketchy about it and battered you about which hero in Gotham you knew the secret identity of.

“Why does it matter?” you had questioned.

“It would change whether or not you should confront them or not.” He sounded like he was lying, like he just wanted to know what you knew.

“Let’s hypothetically say it was Red Hood,” you said because that had been what was on your mind for some reason.

“If its Red Hood, you should leave it alone. He hasn’t always been a hero you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” especially recently. People were really up in arms over his sudden aggression, “what about the others?”

“I would just leave it alone, kiddo. You could be entirely wrong and that would just be embarrassing for you,” his snicker echoed across the phone, “or maybe you should do it just make sure there’s a recording so I can see your face when your inevitable wrong.”

“You’re totally lame, Wallace. I was right about you and Barry.”

“That’s only because you were totally infatuated with me, my little shadow.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I was 12. Can’t you let it go already?”

“Never.”

Before he could continue to tease you, you ask him about Linda, about the kids, Iris and Barry and everything about Central City and Keystone you may have missed since you last talked to him nearly a year ago. It was the longest you had talked to him since the accident, and you realized how much you missed Wally.

Eventually duties called. He promised he’d come and visit you in Gotham if you promised you’d be home for Christmas. He mentioned having some other friends he could visit while he was there too. It was only after you hung up that you realized he probably knew all of the bats and if you told him what you knew he probably could’ve confirmed it.

****

A week later, you started to get antsy. You hadn’t realized what a constant Jason was in your life until he wasn’t there. You were starting to feel like you did something wrong too. At first you thought you could just fill your time with work and hanging out with Cass and Steph but that quickly went down the drain.

Every time you called or texted them to see if they wanted to hang out, they were always busy with something. They wouldn’t be free until you were at work again. You couldn’t understand what you had done.

You assumed it was when you were drunk. You still couldn’t remember anything, and it bothered you because it seemed to have chased everyone away.

Beyond that you were worried. Weeks prior you had told Darla that your apartment was safe from Penguin and his men because Jason was there almost all the time.

Now he wasn’t. It made you jumpy, even at work. Enough so for Darla to notice. It was a slow morning when she asked you about it.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked flatly, and you jumped at the suddenness of her voice having thought she was in the restroom. You nearly drop the drink you were refilling.

“Nothing’s wrongs,” you reply setting the cup down trying to stabilize the shake in your hand.

“You look like you haven’t slept in days, and you’ve been walking home alone all week. Did you and your boyfriend get into a fight?” she was right, you hadn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since Jason left, plagued by nightmares and the sudden what if’s of being a woman living alone haunted you.

“He’s not- I don’t know,” you feel weepy suddenly, no doubt from the lack of sleep.

“Hey, hey. What happened, baby doll?” she curls an arm around your shoulder as you bury your face in your hands.

“I don’t know,” Your voice cracks, “I can’t remember.”

She draws you into a hug and you bury your face into her shoulder and cry.

Jason left you alone and evidently nobody in his family wanted to be around you. You didn’t know why but you can only assume it has something to do with the brunch. Something you’d said or done. You just wish they would tell you.

“What do you mean you can’t remember?” she asks as she rubs at your back.

“I was drunk.”

Her hand pauses, “but I thought you didn’t drink, not after happened to your sister, right?” she asks slowly, pulling back from the hug slightly. You nod and wipe at the tears on your cheeks.

“I didn’t know mimosas had alcohol in them.” You admit to her. Her face hardens slightly.

“This was at the Wayne brunch thing, wasn’t it? I knew those rich people were no good. You only do that much good for Gotham if you feel guilty about something. You should stay far away from them, do you-“

“Darla, it was an accident. They didn’t know and I should’ve paid more attention to what I was drinking.” You cut her off because you were not in the mood to listen to Darla’s politics.

“Sorry, sweet thing.” A guilty look flashes across her features, “alright so blackout drunk and your boyfriend, what, ditched you?”

“He said he had to go out of town for work and I just, I feel so alone, Darla.” You sigh and scrub your face with your hands again. She tugs at your wrist and makes you look at her.

“You’re not alone. Listen, you can come home with me today if you want. I’m watching Claire tonight. She’s started babbling. You could hold her and try to translate her nonsense for me.” You laugh wetly at her offer. You suck in a breath to calm yourself down. The offer sounded nice, but you just want to sleep as much as you can before your mind tries to terrorize you instead.

“That sounds lovely,” you tell her.

“But your just tired,” she finishes your sentence for you. You nod and she pulls you in for another hug, “Okay but the minute you feel something is wrong, you call me. I’ll load up the little girl in the car and we’ll come and get you together. Understand?”

You hug Darla back, a sudden ache for physical affection thrumming through your veins. It made you think of Jason, and you tried to stamp it down.

“Thank you, Darla. Really.” You pull back and wipe your cheeks a final time.

“No need, baby doll. I gotta take care of the only sweet girl I work with,” she rubs at your shoulder, “and you should take care of Jonny Bravo over there. He looks like he’s gonna have a stroke if he doesn’t get his refill.”

You laugh at her words and get back to work and make the refill. You feel a tad lighter. You still miss Jason and still worry. But now you knew you had someone in your corner.

****

Darla drove you home that night. She didn’t want you to walk home if your knight in shining armor wasn’t going to be there at the drop of a hat. It was sweet of her and made you feel less lonely.

Once you had made it to your apartment, you collapsed on your couch. You were exhausted. Your apartment was a mess, and you needed to shower. You pulled out your phone instead. You hadn’t talked to Jason since he left. No texting, no calls. You had hoped that it was all in your head, that he would reach out to you after his workday at some point. But you still had no notifications from him.

You opened up your messages with him. Mostly nonsense. You sent stuff to each other so you would remember. Movies you wanted to watch with him, the book he wanted to rant to you about, a motorcycle on the street that made you think of him. It was hardly a coherent conversation. You start typing.

Hope work is okay. I miss you.

Was that too much? Too needy? You weren’t dating but you had become accustomed to seeing each other nearly every day. Surely that meant something to him. At least you hoped.

There was no use in stressing over it, especially if he was going to ignore you. It was a simple statement. You hit send and set your phone down. You sent it, now you need to forget about it. That shower suddenly sounded really good.

You took a long warm shower, trying to drown at your thoughts but also trying to grasp the fragments of your mind from the brunch. It had been a week, and you still weren’t close to gathering what happened.

After your shower, you didn’t even eat dinner, just crashed into your bed. The sun was still up but the trickling light made it easier to fall asleep, no darkness for make believe monsters to hide in.

****

It was the middle of the night again. You weren’t entirely shocked that you were awake, but you were surprised that it wasn’t a nightmare what woke you. You didn’t know what woke you up. You lay there with your eyes closed, trying to will yourself back to sleep.

A moment later you hear what woke you up. A knock that you can just barely hear in your bedroom. You finally open your eyes to check what time it was. 2:48 am. You slept a lot longer than you thought you would have. You hear the knocking again and finally bring yourself to stand up.

You had taken to leaving the taser Jason had gifted you on the nightstand while you slept for some peace of mind, that and the locket around your neck. You grab the taser and hold the locket in your other hand. You poke your head out of your bedroom and listen. There is another knock, a little bit louder this time and you urge yourself to move out into the living room.

The knocks come from your front door, and you think maybe you should relax. If someone was trying to hurt you, wouldn’t they have broken in? You don’t relax though. It could be a trap. You look through the peep hole and spot black hair. The person moves and you find the green eyes you have been missing so much.

You rush to set the taser on the kitchen counter and unlock the door. You open it wide and stare at him, suddenly and oddly unsure of yourself. He looks as exhausted as you feel and he was hurt, a cut along his temple held together with butterfly band aids, his lip split.

“Jason?” you ask in concern cause you’ve never seen him beat up. You knew he was hurt sometimes. Watched him wince when he did things that wouldn’t have hurt him prior. But every adult has their random aches and pains. His face was different.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” he tries to grin at you, but it comes out as more of a grimace, like it hurt to smile, “heard you might be missing me?”

You flush at his words but mostly your heart warms. It was the middle of the night and Jason had been working somewhere else and saw that you missed him and came home. He couldn’t have been that upset with you then.

You take a step forward and he meets you halfway, dragging you into a hug that makes you exhale in relief. The tension in your body mellows when you feel him relaxing against you too. You take a step back and he follows, never breaking the hug. You manage to get the door shut and locked with Jason like a koala attached to you. You wonder if he missed you more than you missed him.

Door locked, your hands creep up to his neck and in the hair at the nap of his neck. You stroke your thumb lovingly under his ear. You try to pull back enough to see his face, but he just buries his face into your neck instead, like he needed to be as close as possible.

“Can we go to bed?” you ask softly, petting gently at his neck. He scoops you up, an arm under your knees and back. Your arms reflexively tighten around his neck, startled by the movement. He carries you quietly to your bedroom and you finally have a chance to look closer at his face. You let your hand trace from the cut on his temple to his cheek. He watches you from the corner of his eye.

He gently sets you down on the bed and presses a kiss on your forehead. He finally meets your eye and your heart jumps to your throat with the way he’s looking at you.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He tells you and presses another kiss to your cheek, “Far more than I probably should.” He murmurs against your skin, and you don’t know how to respond. The suddenness of Jason’s presence after nothing for a week was giving a shock to your system. It didn’t matter though. His affection was like a balm on cracked skin.

He scoots you across the bed to your designated spot and moves to climb in. You stop him with a hand on his arm and for the first time since he’s arrived at your door, he seems hesitant. He edges back off the bed like he’s done something wrong. Your hand on his arm turns from a press to a grip, willing him to not run away.

“You should change your clothes. Want you to be comfortable, Jay.” you explain quietly, and his shoulders relax. Once again you can’t help but wonder what’s happened. With Jason here maybe you can get some answers for the gaps your memory.

You lay down on your side when he moves for the dresser. You watch him in the dark lighting of the room, barely making out the form of him as your eyes adjust. As he pulls his shirt from his body, you think you see a dark bruise along his rib. It makes you want to worry but he pulls a new shirt on before you can decide whether or not it was a trick of the eye.

It doesn’t take long for him to be completely changed. He comes to stand at the edge of the bed, and you can feel him staring down at you. You open your arms wide.

“Well come here, I need my cuddles.” You whisper to him despite being the only two people in the room. He settles on top of you then, head to your chest and your hands slide through his hair as he curls his arms under you.

It’s quiet and dark. The way you had been this past week it would have had every nerve stuck in overdrive. But with the weight of Jason, the feel of his hands pressed against you, your nerves practically lose all their sense aside from his touch. You’re nearly asleep, mind drifting between the line of conscious and unconscious, when you feel a wetness seeping into your shirt where Jason lays.

It wakes you back up. Jason wasn’t one to drool and if he did it was usually light, definitely not enough for you to feel it through your shirt. You move one of your hands to press into his back. Jason takes a stuttered breath then you hear sniffling. Your entire body freezes.

Jason was crying, albeit quietly. It throws a shock through your body. You’d never seen Jason cry. He’d seen you time and time again but he’d never broken down like this. You didn’t know what to do because you didn’t know why he was crying.

“Jason?” you say his name quietly and slide your other hand in his hair to his cheek, gently cradling it and wiping at the wetness under his eye with your thumb. You feel the flutter of his lashes against the tip of your finger. He makes a gargled noise, and you think he’s trying to clear his throat.

“It’s nothing sweetheart,” he murmurs sounding just a little broken and it makes your heart ache. You tip your head slightly and kiss at the crown of his head.

“You can talk to me, Jay,” you mumble against his hair, “please.”

He holds you tighter, his breath evening out, “later,” he presses a kiss to your sternum where he lays, and it makes your heart jump. You beat yourself up for the feeling when Jason’s being vulnerable, “I’m tired, baby. Just want to sleep here with you.”

He settles back down but your mind hypes up at the three second interaction. Jason hadn’t called you ‘baby’ since the willow tree. It made you feel a lot of things that you would keep deep in your mind. The way he said it, the way he kissed at your chest…

Had you told Jason you liked him? Was that why he had run away? Because you pushed your feelings onto him in a drunken state?

He came back; a quiet voice tells you. If you had told him that you liked him a lot more than a friend, he left you and came back. He was here and he was holding you.

You wouldn’t ask what happened then. You were content with this, with Jason choosing to come back to you. If he wanted to talk to you about it, that worked too. You would want to know what his thoughts on the matter were, but you wouldn’t pry. You’d let him bring his feelings to you.

Additional note: Denial and avoidance are terrible and definitely not how you should live in a relationship. That will not stop these two though. The next chapter is chapter 30!!! That’s so crazy! Considering this was supposed to be a one and done short blurb. I’m so grateful to everyone that reads and comments. I think I might want to do something special but I’m not totally sure what. If you have any ideas let me know! <3<3

Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369,  @g4bbi3xx, @iwatobiswimbros, @the-lonely-flute, @elz-xo, @gone-batty-fics, @princessesgarden, @notfckincreative, @love-theangel, @feyres-fireheart, @penguimlover23, @herodedicatedblog, @dearghostling, @automaticplant, @alma-ru3, @13fresh, @anuttellaa, @nekotaetae, @redsakura101, @sleepy-head1, @aejabba, @asteria33, @princessbl0ss0m, @sinnamon-bunn

[pancaake101]

yan! captor ૮꒰/ฅ//ฅ//꒱ა

imp. notes!!!: noncon photos, masturbation, kidnapping

yan! captor who stalked studied you all the time before taking you. it wasnt hard at all considering his route to wherever was a similar route to your school.

yan! captor who actually didnt JUST study you, he even hired a p.i to gather more info about you when hes busy. your whereabouts, and possibly things he's missed (if any) will get reported to him

yan! captor who would take pictures of you all the time. when he's passing by your favorite hang out spot, you picking up your food order, you taking your books out of the locker, etc.

yan! captor yknow sometimes he'd even take pictures up your skirt if possible. sometimes when the hallways are crowded he gets lucky enough to be right behind you and takes the chance to steal an upskirt picture. look he knows it wrong !!,, he really does but what else can he do? at the time you guys weren't friends and he was so deprived of your touch and attention,, it kills him!! :(

yan! captor who didn't actually consider kidnapping you at first, he thought this was a simple fascination that'd pass. but it didn't. it went from days, to weeks, to months, to eventually almost a full year. and thats when he decided, yeah no i have to have her.

yan! captor especially when the summer had came around, it was so hard!! he was so deprived of your face everyday that he just resorted to passing your house and sneaking glances through your window. he even considered breaking in but realized it'd be too risky :(

yan! captor who often heard you and your friends talking. he'd often eavesdrop and even sometimes record it to listen back. he once heard you talking about your type and it was commonly agreed among you that you guys like a guy more on the fit side. not overly muscle-y, or bodybuilder type. just a guy who takes care of himself, and if he's being honest he hasnt been on his self care as much as he should've. to be fair, it's because you take up all his attention!! being your future boyfriend is just so time consuming, it should be considered a hobby !!

yan! captor who took the initiative to go to the gym and actually start taking care of himself! he developed a skin care routine and spends at least an hour at the gym everyday. ugh he can't thank you enough for reminding him of this!! he can't remember the last time he gave himself this amount of careful attention :,)

yan! captor who was driving in his car but slowed down when he recognized you. it was a slow day, hardly any cars where occupying the street, and so he couldnt help himself and took the risk!! he grabbed you as swift as he could and lifted you into his car. it was so easy to pick you up considering him finally developing a good self care plan.

yan! captor who is oh so giddy to finally have you in his arms! although you were screaming and trying to kick him off of you while putting you in the care, it was so adorable and honestly kind of attractive. although that had to come to an end quick because he had to knock you out to silence you. even though it made him very sad to hurt you in such a way, what else could he have done? you were screaming like a banshee. it hurt and it could've alerted the authorities!

yan! captor who promises to take such good care of you now that you're in his care!!, it might be hard to keep suspicion about your disappearance under control but he will do anything to keep suspicion on his part. he'll even kill if need be

౨ৎ

[cantfindmissroxy]

Slow Dance by Fire Light

Pairings: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: No warnings this time just lots and lots of cute fluffy shit

Summary: You and Steve are snowed in at a safe house during your mission, the two of you end up passing to time by dancing around the living room listening to the soft sounds of the record player.

“Hey Steve?” You hollard over your shoulder as you checked through the pantries in the kitchen of the small safe house the two of you had decided to stay in until the weather clears.

Steve looked up from his sketch pad which he had laid carefully in his lap turning his attention towards you.

You gave him a nervous laugh opening the rest of the cabinet doors so Steve could see what you were talking about. “Uhhm- we should really try to go somewhere and stalk up on food the weathers starting to get pretty bad and we don't want to get stuck here with nothing”

Steve nodded his hand covering his mouth slightly in a vain attempt to hide the soft laugh that escaped his lips at you gesturing towards the extremely empty cabinets.

“You’ve definitely got a point there (Y/N), come on let's go.” Steve spoke, closing his sketchbook and setting it on a small table next to the couch and headed towards the door. He opened it slightly before turning back to look at you.

You stood there confused and unmoving for just a moment before Steve chuckled, opening the door the rest of the way and stepping aside so he could keep it open for you. Though the gesture was small you couldn't help but blush.

You quickly sped past Steve rushing to the car praying he wouldn't notice just how flustered his small act of kindness had made you. The cold winter air bit at every tiny bit of exposed skin and you groaned quietly wishing you would have just stayed inside. Your hands rubbed together quickly as you got in the car in a vain attempt to keep them warm. 

Steve sped to the car right after you. He hurriedly slammed the door shut as he was fumbling with the keys in his hand as he tried to get the heat going in the car as quickly as possible.

“Shit its so cold out there.” he chuckled, waiting for the heat in the car to kick in.

You shot him a joking look already giggling before you could even get the words out “Language cap!” You laughed

Steves felt his cheeks heat up, not only out of embarrassment but because of that laugh. God how he absolutely cherished it. He nudged you slightly “That was one time! One time (Y/N)!”

He chuckled as his hand rubbed his face slightly.

After a very long and somewhat frightening drive to a small sketchy grocery store in the middle of nowhere and back to your safe house the weather had only worsened. You were absolutely freezing by the time the both of you had gotten everything inside.

You scrambled to get a fire started in the fireplace as your hands mocked you with just how hard they were shaking from the cold. After several minutes of struggling the logs finally caught fire and you instantly dropped to the ground right in front of the fireplace with a grateful sign.

Steve stood behind the couch with an amused smile on his face as he watched you lying there in front of the fire. He sat back down deciding to use you as inspiration for his next drawing.

You had laid there forever basking in the comforting heat of the fire before deciding to turn and face Rogers. Your heart damn near lept out of your chest when you saw him, he was just sitting there with a soft smile on his face sketchbook in his lap. 

You rolled onto your back as your hands flew up to your face in a poor attempt to hide your nervous blushing. Your eyes widened as you heard footsteps heading your way. Gentle hands pulling yours away from your face. Steve sat beside you with his stupidly charming smile.

You sat up crossing your legs as you finally met Steve's eyes. He stayed sitting next to you in front of the fire. “Figured I might as well enjoy the fire while it's still going” Steve said simply as he stared towards the flames. The light casted over him  perfectly. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you caught yourself glancing down at Steve's lips.

You stood up quickly, brushing yourself off with the palms of your hands.”We should do something!” you said with a huge smile as your eyes darted around the room for absolutely anything to cure your own boredom

Your eyes finally landed on an absolutely beautiful record player and you instantly perked up. “Oh my god Steve, look!” You instantly ran over to it as you looked around for wherever the records could be.  Your eyes locked onto a bookshelf and you smiled to yourself as you found several older records. Grabbing two in specific that had caught your eye.

You stood up showing the two vinyls off to Steve playfully flaunting them around like some sort of grand treasure. “Sooo what are the vibes we were thinking for tonight huh steve?” Steve stepped closer examining his choices before gently pulling one of them out of your hand to examine it closer.

 “Oh my- I haven't heard this in, I don't even know how long. This one for sure” Steve grinned, pulling the vinyl out of its sleeve gently placing it down on the record player.

His shoulders visibly relaxed as the sounds of “It's been a long long time” filled the room.

Steve turned to you with a playful grin across his face. You tilted your head curiously as you watched Steve slowly offering you his hand. You laughed, placing your hand in his. He pulled you in, placing his other hand on your waist as the two of you slowly danced around the living room.

Never thought that you would be standing here so close to me.

Your face was undeniably on fire and you hoped to yourself that maybe Steve wouldn't notice. 

Steve gave you a soft smile, his face moving undeniably closer to yours. 

“Y’know of all the people i could’ve gotten stuck with in this safe house, I'm glad it was you”

There's so much I feel that I should stay.

“I am too steve, really I am.”

But words can wait until some other day.

Steve's hand let go of yours, slowly moving down to meet your waist as your arms draped carefully behind Steve's neck. His eyes closed and he just looked just so peaceful. He pressed his forehead gently against yours and it all just felt so perfect. His eyes locked on yours and your hands slowly found Steve's face. 

Before you even realized what you had done his lips were pressed to yours. It was soft and passionate. It felt as if they were meant to be there all along

Kiss me once then kiss me twice then kiss me once again

You turned bright red turning into a sputtering mess “I- I uhm! Oh my god did we really just- ohhh my god.” Steve broke out into soft laughter as he pressed his lips against yours once more.

It's been a long long time <3

OMG OMG OMGG! Yall dont even know how fun this was to write I loved it and i hope yall did too! Feel free to give me any kinds of advice or even requests, Till we meet again my darlings <3

Want to read more from me?: Masterlist<3

[lifeisabitch-butimcute]

age gap lesbian wolfstar // smoking is bad kids (it’s also v hot in the right circumstances)

part 1

She was like an apparition, destined to only appear at night when Sirius was half out of her mind. They made eye contact from across the park, and Sirius choked on a lungful of smoke. “Professor,” she breathed.

Jamie scrambled to tamp out the joint. “Where? What? Who?” She’d always been a nervous smoker. Sirius just giggled.

“Professor Remussss,” she sighed, flopping back in the grass. Jamie kicked her in the shin.

“Bitch,” she muttered. “Thought we were caught. You’re still stalking her?”

Sirius held up a finger. “Not stalking! Don’t stalk. Just yearn.”

And it wasn't stalking, thank you very much. She'd just done some preliminary research - what Remus taught, where and when her classes were, what her office hours were, what she'd done her PhD in. She hadn't done anything with the info, besides watch a few recorded lectures, a TED talk or two, and yeah, maybe she touched herself while she listened to Remus expound on the intricacies of ancient Rome. But it wasn't stalking.

“Mmhm.”

Sirius let her head flop to the side. Her eyes drifted shut for a few moments, and when they reopened, she was eye level with a pair of scuffed up boots. She reached out and patted the toe of the right one. “Hi, Professor.”

“Girls,” Remus said mildly, her own vice clamped between her fingers. Nicotine, rather than weed, by the smell of it. Sirius wrapped her hand around Remus’ ankle, who did nothing to stop it. “It’s not safe to be out here alone this late.”

“You’ll keep us safe,” Sirius said confidently. “Won’t you?”

“I’m not much of a fighter,” Remus countered. When Sirius looked up she found Remus watching the slow path her hand was making up Remus’ corduroy-clad leg. Jamie swatted her hand away when she reached the back of Remus’ knee.

“We’re going,” Jamie muttered, struggling to her feet. She held out a hand for Sirius, who waved it away in favor of grabbing onto Remus’ pants to pull herself into a sitting position. She shifted to her knees and clawed at the hem of Remus’ sweater to drag herself the rest of the way to her feet.

Standing toe to toe with Remus, she let herself sway into her space. “Never got a hit,” she mumbled, hands still fisting the front of Remus’ sweater.

Remus held up the cigarette between them, and Sirius craned her head to wrap her lips around the end of it. It was a gentle kiss against Remus’s fingers as she took a breath in.

She heard Jamie grumbling in the background and elected to ignore it as she pushed the stream of smoke out of the corner of her mouth, eyes fixed on Remus’ once again, hazel in the dim light. “Thanks.”

“I’d say anytime, but…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius grumbled, stepping back. “‘Night, professor. Don’t stay out too late. Not safe.” Remus gave the same small wave that she had when they'd first met, and Sirius let her fade back into the night.

[sorcererkilla]

                                                                                                        𝓨ou   𝓒an   𝓑e   𝓣he   𝓑oss   𝓓addy                                  Her   knees   ached,   hands   tied   behind   her   back,   her   head   lifted   up   to   her   with   her   mouth   open   -   Saliva   dripping   down   her   chin   as   the   gag   between   her   teeth   stopped   her   from   speak.   The   machine   between   her   legs   vibrating   at   the   slowest   setting   possible,   her   moans   sounded   more   like   whines   -   the   ropes   tying   her   to   the   end   of   the   bed   keeping   her   still.   She   heard   the   door   open   and   her   body   jolted,   whimpering   the   man's   name   around   the   gag.   Her   mind   racing   with   desperation   ;   please   touch   me,   please   use   me.   Please   I   want   it   so   bad.   Toji,   Toji.                                                                                                         

                                                                                                                                                            𝓟ut  𝓨ou  𝓘n  𝓐  𝓜ovie                          He  could  smell  her  before  he  unlocked  the  door.  His  body  reacting  to  the  image  in  the  bedroom  -  just  how  he  had  left  her.  He  hummed,  dropping  his  bag  onto  the  bed  as  he  watched  her  whine  and  tug  against  the  ropes  he  left  her  in.  “Whining?”  His  voice  was  deep,  coming  from  his  chest  and  more-so  his  groin.  “I  thought  you  loved  using  the  toy?  Why  else  would  you  prefer  it  to  daddy's  dick,  huh?”  He  teased.  Toji  had  gotten  it  for  her  as  a  trick  gift  -  he  knew  she  would  test  it  out  and  he  would  walk  in,  mock  hurt  and  have  her  in  this  exact  situation.  He  reached  into  his  pocket,  pulling  out  his  phone  and  walking  towards  her.  The  camera  rolling  and  recording  every  grunt  and  moan  she  let  out.  “Don't  you  look  so  pretty,  babydoll.  Can't  wait  to  have  you  watch  this  while  I  fuck  into  you.”  The  man  reached  down,  removing  the  ball  gag  from  her  mouth  and  watching  as  spit  dripped  to  her  exposed  breast.  He  licked  his  lips  at  the  sight,  his  thumb  slipping  in  her  mouth  and  fish  hooking  her  gently.  “Want  me  to  fuck  your  mouth,  baby?  Want  daddy  to  use  you  like  the  toy  you  are?”   

[ovrgrwnivy]

Omg please write more for Wally Clark. I need some overstimulation kink and I loved your last piece. 💖💖

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ crybaby .ᐟ 3

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ synopsis ; forty years is a long time to go without getting laid, and when one thing leads to another, wally gets a little carried away.

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ includes ; wally clark x fem!reader, porn with very little plot, reader is described as having long hair, reader is described as being shorter than wally, unprotected sex ( don’t do this ), oral (m!receiving), fingering, wally has a filthy mouth ( you’re telling me the popular jock wouldn’t talk you through it? ), reader cries ( /pos? )

content below the cut is intended for readers over the age of eighteen, minors do not interact.

ten years, ten long years you had roamed the halls of your old high school. well, haunted would be more fitting.

there was one silver lining, you had died in the cuntiest outfit you owned. a black micro skirt, which in your defence was the fashion in the early two-thousand’s, a leopard print tank top, again, it was all the rage, and a cropped black tracksuit jacket with a fur hood.

if this years students could see you, they probably wouldn’t wanna talk to you.

a pastime of the afterlife included hiding in the janitors closet, attempting to copy the makeup you saw girls today wearing while out of sight of the other ghosts.

thank god you straightened your hair the day you died.

your knees are tucked up to your chest as you look through your overflowing makeup bag, your hand finally grasping the mascara tube you were searching for.

when the door is swung open and slammed in record time you freeze, mascara wand mid air and mouth slightly parted as you look up to see who barged into your hiding place.

wally clark, another ghost. you mentally curse, knowing that you could be seen if he turned around and your hideout was compromised. but wally seemed too distracted to turn around, his hand planted against the door and his head hung low.

you couldn’t help wonder if he was okay, especially when his breathing became more ragged and his forehead fell against the door, right beside his hand.

at first you thought he could be having a panic attack, but when you heard him groan out a quiet ‘fuck’ the realisation hit you like a freight train.

“uh, occupied?”

to say you scared wally was an understatement, his head almost hit the ceiling with how high he jumped before spinning around to see who he’d barged in on, his hand still buried in his sweatpants.

you couldn’t deny wally was attractive, especially now, that cursed varsity jacket abandoned somewhere, leaving him in his white tshirt and grey sweatpants. he was sweating, muscles flexed and that god forsaken chain hanging around his neck.

his eyes land on you, sat on the concrete floor looking up at him, lips still parted from the sudden invasion. for a second he screws his eyes shut, letting his head fall back with a sigh as he took his hand out of his pants.

“sorry,” he deadpans, too frustrated to make the apology sound genuine “didn’t think anyone else came here.”

there’s something that stops you from throwing back a sarcastic quip or a demand to leave, you just sit there staring like a deer in headlights.

“i’ll go.”

when he turns to open the door, your mouth moves faster than your brain can keep up with. not that your brain was much good at the moment, all it kept telling you was how hot wally looked.

“stay.” you blurt out, surprising both yourself and wally as you shift to sit on your knees “let me help you.”

you didn’t know if it was a panic response or ten years of unattended horniness, but you did know you hoped he would agree rather than bolt.

wally is speechless, heavy lidded as he stared down at you, the strain against his sweatpants becoming more noticeable by the second. you can tell he thinks it’s a bad idea, but he was too horny to care.

“fuck it,” he huffed, shoving his pants down just enough to free his dick from its restraint and stroking it slowly.

a grin appears across your face, and you waste no time in wrapping your mouth around him, swirling your tongue in quick circles and relishing the noise he made in response.

his fingers lace through your hair, tugging at it as his hips bucked against your face, his cock forcing its way down your throat with every thrust.

“that’s it, baby.” he groans, fingers tightening in your hair when you ignore your gag reflex and take him until your nose is pressed against his pelvis “shit, you’re so fucking hot. such a good girl, taking my cock so well”

it’s not long until you can feel him twitch against your tongue, letting you know he was getting closer with every flick of your tongue.

you whine when he pulls out of your mouth, but quickly get the message when he continues to work himself with a hand, the other tugging at your hair. you stick your tongue out in anticipation, and the sight alone is enough to finish wally off, managing to get most of his release into your mouth as the rest ran down your chin.

“god, you’re fucking perfect.” wally mumbled, getting you to your feet and pressing your back into the shelves behind you “you’re a mess already, baby.” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, kissing along the skin until he reaches your ear “just imagine how you’re gonna look riding my cock.”

he tears the flimsy fabric of your skirt, as if to punctuate his words, making you gasp in surprise as you’re left in your underwear with wally towering over you.

wally glides his thumb across your chin, collecting the mess he made before pushing the digit into your already open mouth, the fingers of his free hand digging into your hip.

“i’m gonna fuck the shit out of you,” wally warns, ghosting his hand along where you need him most “gonna fuck you so good the whole schools gonna hear you fall apart on my cock.”

“please, wally.” you whimper out, bucking against his hand for some form of contact.

without warning he plunges two fingers into you, holding you up by the neck when your knees go weak and you cry out his name.

“you can be as loud as you want, babe” wally laughs, his thumb rubbing fast circles into your clit as his tongue finds its place on your neck, leaving obvious marks behind as it went “wanna make sure the entire school hears how much of a slut you really are, i mean, who sucks off someone in a janitors closet? you were practically drooling at the thought of me fucking your mouth.”

nothing coherent is leaving your mouth, just babbles of sound between loud moans. wally never lessens his pace, the feeling make you dizzy and blurring your eyes until something snaps, leaving you screaming in pleasure as wally fingers you through your orgasm.

“there’s a good girl,” wally coos, removing his fingers and placing them in his mouth while his free hand shoved your underwear down your legs “i’m gonna destroy you, baby, starting right here.”

he slowly drags a finger across your clit before shoving off this sweatpants entirely. the closet is a cramped, sweaty mess as you both desperately undress each other until you’re both in nothing but your socks.

“fuck,” wally sighs, biting down on his lip as he looked you over “i wanna see you ride me so bad but, don’t think it’s gonna happen here.”

after a beat he’s turning you away from him, bending you over a shelf to give you something to hold onto before sliding into you with no warning.

his pace is relentless, slamming into you hard and fast, pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail to pull you back towards him.

“you’re doing so good, gorgeous. taking me so fucking well, look so pretty on my cock,” wally groans out, pistioning his hips at a speed that sends your second orgasm crashing through you without warning.

“good girl,” wally coos, wrapping an arm around your waist to continue his assault on your clit “that’s it, baby, that’s it. fuck, you’re so fucking hot making a mess all over my cock, my pretty girl.”

tears spill down your face, tracking mascara along your cheeks as he continues rutting into you. the overstimulation leaving your brain short circuiting, leaving you only able to cry out his name as drool pooled in the corner of your mouth.

your fucked out state only motivates wally more as his thrusts become more and more desperate until he finally releases inside of you with a low groan, the feeling of him running down your inner thigh is enough to throw you into your third orgasm.

“you did so good, pretty girl.” wally praises, slipping out of you and pressing a kiss to your shoulder “fuck, i haven’t fucked like that in forever.”

“mm, same” you mumble out, completely fucked out and barely able to stand let alone speak.

“ruined your makeup,” wally sighs apologetically, glancing down at the now abandoned makeup bag as he began to redress “come find me when you’re done, yeah? i still wanna see you riding me.”

[fancyfeathers]

That Is The Question

Yandere!Justice League & Yandere!Young Justice w/ Huntress!Darling & Sidekick!Darling

Previous Part <- Part Two, Nightingale -> Next Part

This part is told from the perspective of Sidekick!Darling

Washington, D.C.

July 4, 14:05 EDT

While your mentor and adoptive mother went to find what she was looking for in the Hall of Justice, Martian Manhunter lead you to the building’s library and record hall, where there was lounge chairs for you to wait as you did not want a tour of the building so much as just to wait for your mentor to come back. The record’s hall was a long room with built-in bookshelves lining the walls and the main floor of the room had a few lounge chairs around, different areas for members of the Justice League to relax or read over cases, along with a table in the center of the room no doubt serving the same purpose. Then at the far end of the room was a large monitor and computer set up that somewhat reminded you of supercomputers you would see in movies, then on either side of the monitor were alcoves with heavy metal doors that read in heavy capital letters…

JUSTICE LEAGUE MEMBERS ONLY

You sat down on one of the light brown leather lounge chairs in one of the far corners of the room, near the monitor and those heavy doors. You curled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs, and resting your chin on top of your knees, closing your eyes and deciding to take a quick nap before your mentor came back and you two would leave again to pursue whatever the case led you both to, what a way to spend summer break.

You must have drifted off for a few minutes, because you hardly slept on the car trip to get here, but you woke up to the sound of those doors from the museum portion of the Hall of Justice sliding open into the library where you were resting and waiting for your mentor You jolted awake, your hand coming to rest on the small hand held crossbow on your utility belt, an instinct you developed from those late nights on stake outs and patrols with your mentor, even if you were in one of the safest places you could be. You turned your head to look at who was coming in through the doors and you recognized most of them, some were Justice League member, Batman, Green Arrow, Aquaman, Red Tornado, then two Justice League members you already have been introduced to, Flash, and Martian Manhunter who you met a month and minutes ago respectively. Along with them were four young men, all around your age, you had seen photographs of some of them on news sites you saw your mother reading from time to time, Robin, Kid Flash, Aqualad, and Speedy, all in their recognizable gear. No doubt they all spotted you first and-

“Hello, Beautiful.” You squeaked as suddenly, in a blur of yellow, Kid Flash was standing in front of you. “What brings you here?”

“Do you have no self-control, hitting up the first girl you see?” You flipped your head about when you heard the voice of Speedy calling the other sidekick out. “That aside, who are you? I thought we were the ones being allowed on the inside, not some chick that shows up outta nowhere.”

“I-I…”

“She is just a guest today.” To your relief, the voice of Martian Manhunter came to chime in on your defense. “Her mentor is merely here to retrieve a few items that were left here a long time ago.”

“Ya… I’m not here to stay.” 

“Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like when you’re with me.” You could practically see the heart eyes in Kid Flash’s eyes when he said that, which made you literally want to climb over the chair you sat in and hide behind it. 

“I’m fine-“

“Holy shit, I remember you.” You could already feel the red coming into your cheeks in your embarrassment when you heard the all-too-familiar voice of the Flash chime in. “She’s the Huntress’ kid, found her a few weeks ago biting off a case more than she could chew. How is the wrist sprain healing, by the way?”

“It’s fine.”

“So all healed up?”

“Ya.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“She’s not very talkative, is she?” You could hear the muttered words of Green Arrow, a rhetorical question asked to no one in particular, but when you glanced over at him, you could see his face slowly processing some sort of information, piecing things together. “Wait, if you are waiting for her for your mentor, and your mentor is Huntress… does that mean Huntress is rejoining the Justice League?! Why didn’t anyone-“

“She is not.” You interrupted the seasoned hero when he started looking at his other Justice League members for an answer. “She just wanted to grab some things… we’re gonna leave here soon… sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, young lady.” You felt Aquaman rest a hand on your shoulder as he stood behind your chair, just making you feel more surrounded. You must have flinched as you felt his hand touch your suit-covered shoulder because you could see the clear concern in his eyes as you looked over your shoulder at him. “Are you alright? You look quite unnerved.”

“I-I’m alright… I just-”

“I can run you outside if you need some air, give us some-”

“I don’t think we’ve met, I’m the Huntress.” You felt such relief as you saw a hand clasp down on Kid Flash’s shoulder as he was cut off by the person behind him. You could see the slight look of fear in his eyes as he turned around to look at the face of the Huntress, who was very clearly trying very deeply to keep her cool behind a tight smile, but you knew internally she was losing it. “Now I know all my little girl’s friends, and since you are not one of her friends, let’s back up and give a girl her personal space, yes?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good boy.” You could hear that fake laugh behind her lips as she pushed him aside, maybe a little too harshly, before letting go of his shoulder. You took her hand that she reached out to help you up from your shoulder, and you could feel Aquaman’s hand slip away from your shoulder almost reluctantly. “Politely, please do not touch her without her consent. Physical touch in combat is one thing for her, but trust me when I say she almost strangled me when I first met her, so making her uneasy is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Ah, my apologies.” You could hear Aquaman’s apology from behind you as you stood up, your mentor’s hand pulling you up to your feet. You moved to stand beside your mentor, literally and metaphorically, standing in her shadow. You could hear a long moment of silence in the room, and you scanned over the faces of some of the Justice League members, mostly Aquaman, who held silent eye contact with your mentor, only for him to break the silence after the painfully silent moments that passed. “Huntress… it is wonderful to see you again.”

“I wish I could say the same.” The forced smile that your mentor put on quickly faded away as she responded to him. “The last time we saw each other, from what I recall, was during that flood in New Mexico a year ago when I was trying to rescue civilians and you pulled me out of the water like a wet cat.”

“I thought you were drowning-”

“Cut the bullshit. The first mission we went on together when I joined the Justice League was hunting smugglers in Gotham Bay, I was under the water for seventy percent of that mission.” You could hear the breathing grow heavy from the form of Aqualad, who was standing a few feet beside you, probably not completely pleased with the language she was using towards his mentor and his king. “I left the Justice League for a reason, and I am never going back ever again. Now we have to take our leave-”

“You came back for The Question’s old case files.” You practically felt a shiver go up your spine as you heard the voice of Batman finally speak, chiming in, all this time, he was just silently observing. 

“Yes, I did… well, not just that, but I need to tie up some loose ends-”

“His case files stored here are classified, for Justice League members only, and from what I recall, you quit.” You could practically see your mentor about to blow a blood vessel at his words, clenching the cream colored file under her arm even more tightly. “Hand over the file, Huntress-”

“Hey, maybe we could talk about this.” Green Arrow stepped in between your mentor and Batman, both physically and verbally. “I’m sure Huntress just wanted to be civil and didn’t want to start anything.”

“Exactly, I just want to give myself a bit of closure and move on.” You could hear a heavy sigh from your mentor before she silently handed you the case file before she looked over the Justice League members in the room. “Let’s talk about this in private… I’m just not only to my dau- partner hearing some things yet about what happened.”

“Like how you lost it when you quit the team in front of the entire Justice League?” 

“She already knows about that.” She quickly replies to Batman’s comment, still staying completely calm even with how angry she was getting in the situation. “Now, there are other things that happened during my time on the League that she is not mentally prepared to hear. Now we can either talk about this in private, or you can actually see me blow my top in front of your sidekicks.”

“We’re not sidekicks-”

“Whatever you say, Speedy, was it?” You could practically hear the stunned silence from Green Arrow’s sidekick, Speedy, after your mentor cut him off before turning back to Batman. “Now I feel like handling things civilly today, now may we please, for the love of all things holy, talk in private?”

“Well, we could bring her in on the debriefing on the attacks that happened early today, and talk after that, from what I recall, she still handles League-level threats,” Aquaman suggested, glancing about for the reactions of the others, which all resulted in nods from the Justice League members, including a reluctant nod from Batman, to which Aquaman glanced down at the others present, the five sidekicks. “Very well, then we should not be long, you five may wait here and get acquainted with one another, perhaps get this young lady’s name-”

You watch as the members of the Justice League, alongside your mother, step forward towards the doors that lead into a restricted area for Justice League members only, the security system slowly scanning them one by one with some camera-based technology, speaking over the speakers in that robotic voice. “Recognized. Batman, 0-2. Aquaman, 0-6. Flash, 0-4. Green Arrow, 0-8. Martian Manhunter, 0-7. Red Torando, 1-6. Huntress, 1-7.” 

“Look at that, still have my security clearance, ain’t that something, Babydoll-”

“That’s it?!” Your mother’s comment to you was cut off by the annoyed voice of Green Arrow’s sidekick, Speedy, once again. “You promised us a real look inside, not a glorified backstage pass- and you are just letting Huntress in with no problem after she left the Justice League, two years ago!”

“It’s a first step.” Aquaman was again the first to chime in at the young archer’s anger. “You have been granted access that few others get.”

“Oh really?!” You watched as Speedy gestured over to you, who was just standing silently between Kid Flash and Aqualad, holding onto the file that your mentor gave you to hold for safekeeping. “Then why is she here? She isn’t even associated with the Justice League, and you are just letting her stick around.”

“Roy, you just need to be patient-”

“What I need is respect.” You watched as Speedy, or as you guessed, his real name was Roy apparently, cut off his mentor, Green Arrow, before turning to the other young sidekicks in the room, or Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad at least, but probably not you. “They’re treating us like kids- worse, like sidekicks. We deserve better than this.” There was only silence that followed as the other three present just shared glances between one another, unsure if they should say anything. “You’re kidding, right?! You’re playing their game?! Why! Today was supposed to be the day, step one in becoming full-fledged members of the League.”

“Well… sure, but I thought step one was the tour of the HQ…” The voice of Kid Flash spoke up, his words hesitant for a change, instead of the tone he used while flirting with you just a minute ago.

“Expect the Hall isn’t the League’s real HQ, I bet they never told you, it’s just a false front for tourists and a pit stop for catching zeta beam teleporter tubes for the real thing, an orbiting satellite called The Watchtower.” 

You could practically feel the tenseness and anger from the members of the Justice League as they realized the only person who could have told Speedy that information was Green Arrow, which was no doubt against their rules. You also watched as your mentor held back a smile at the Justice League’s misery, trying so very desperately to match the severity of the situation.

“I know, I know, but I thought maybe we could make an exception.” Green Arrow’s words sounded more like a question than a statement, and still, the expressions of the other Justice League members remained stiff as stone, clearly still cross with him. “Or not.”

“Besides being a member of the Justice League isn’t all that, you can do a lot on your own, like I have.” Your mentor spoke up in somewhat of a weak attempt to defuse the situation so they could move on to the meeting, but clearly, by the stern look Aquaman sent her way, that was not helping. “Geez, sorry.”

“You are not helping your case, son. Stand down or-”

“Or what? You’ll send me to my room- and I am not your son!” Speedy cut off Aquaman with such anger that it even scared you a bit as he jabbed his pointer finger forward, gesturing towards Green Arrow. “I’m not even his�� I thought I was his partner, but not anymore.” You all watched, completely stunned, as Speedy tossed the yellow hat he wore down the ground, right at Green Arrow’s feet before turning on his heel and walking right past you, Kid Flash, Aqualad, and Robin. “I guess they are right about you three, you’re not ready.”

There was only silence as he left the room, tense silence. Luckily, you did not have to wait long for that silence to be broken as upon that large monitor you saw upon entry lit up with a camera visual and the face of Superman, catching the attention of everyone in the room and you and the other teenagers just watched as the Justice League members walked over to the monitor and the computer set up. 

“Superman to Justice League, there’s been an explosion at Project Cadmus, it’s on fire.”

“I’ve had my suspicions about Cadmus.” Batman was the first to speak up out ot the Justice League members present. “This may present the perfect opportunity to-”

“Zatara to Justice League.” Batman was cut off by another face appearing on the monitor, the magician Zatara, you have heard about him several times, someone your mother got along with well during her time on the Justice League, but not well enough to stay. “The Sorcerer Wotan is using the Amulet of Aten to blot out the sun, requesting full League response.”

“Superman?”

“It’s a small fire, local authorities have it under control.”

“Cadmus can wait.” You watched as Batman pressed a button on the main console of the computer. You guessed it was like some sort of comm line, like the ones you and your mentor use on your own missions. “All Leaguers rendezvous at Zatara’s coordinates, Batman out.” You watched as the other three sidekicks approached their mentors while you stayed back, watching as Batman looked at the three of them. “You four, stay put.”

“This is a League mission.”

“You’re not trained-”

“Since when?” No doubt Flash was responding to his own mentor rather than Aquaman’s comment. 

“I mean, not trained to work as a part of this team.”

“There will be other missions when you are ready.”

“But for now, stay put.” 

You all watched as the Justice League members walked towards the doors that no doubt led to the zeta teleporter tubes. Your own mentor watched for a moment before Green Arrow tugged her arm. “You coming? Batman was just referring to the kids, you always have an open invitation.”

“I’ll help on the mission, then we can have that private meeting I was promised.” She replied, prying her arm away from his hand as she grabbed her own crossbow from her belt, along with a set of about two dozen crossbow bolts, and loaded it into the base of her weapon. “But I am not rejoining the Justice League, just the mission.”

“Whatever you say.”

You watched as they all left the room, those heavily restricted doors closing behind them. You were shocked slightly that your mentor and mother left without saying a single word to you before that is, you felt your phone ping in your pocket. You could hear the other sidekicks talking, but you read her text inside…

Open the file.

Among the anger-filled comments and the confusion of the others, you opened the file, and to your surprise, it was all about the place on fire that Superman mentioned earlier, Project Cadmus. A genetics lab here in Washington, D.C., which seemed to have a shady reputation from what you read that your mother’s old partner found. You were only pulled out of your thoughts and reading as you heard a sound from the monitor. You glanced up to see Robin standing at the computer, and you immediately got a bad feeling.

“Hey, I don't think you are supposed to be doing that?” You set down the file on one of the chairs before walking over to the computer, where all the sidekicks were gathered around. “Are you hacking into the Justice League systems?! You’re going to get in trouble!”

“More important question.” Kid Flash chimes in, completely ignoring your statement, which only made you more nervous. “How are you doing that?”

“Same system as the Batcave, and besides, aren’t you not supposed to read the Justice League’s private case file?” You could feel your face heat up at Robin’s words; you thought they would not be paying any attention to you, but perhaps you thought wrong. “That’s what I thought.”

“Access Granted.” 

You tensed up even more when you heard that robotic voice speak once again and you glanced up at the computer as you squeezed yourself between Robin and Aqualad so you could at least see instead of staring at the back of their heads and as you read over what was on screen you saw those all too familiar words, Project Cadmus…

They were going off the lead they got from that alert they got from Superman, which just so happened to be the same case you were just reading over.

“Alright, Project Cadmus, a genetic lab here in D.C….” Robin paused as his eyes glided over the screen, finding more questions than answers. “That’s all there is… but if Batman is suspicious, maybe we should investigate.”

“Solve their case before they do,” Aqualad spoke up, glancing over you at Robin. “It would be poetic justice.”

“They’re all about justice.”

“But they said stay put.”

“For the blotting out the sun mission, not this.”

“Wait, are you going to Cadmus? Cause if you’re going, I’m going.” 

“Um… I think I want to go to.” You chimed up, catching the attention of the other three sidekicks as you walked back over to the chair where the file lay. You picked it up, holding it out to give it to Aqualad, who was closest to you. “Because I already have a lead.”

“Looks like the Justice League did miss a few things in their records.” He spoke as he glanced over the file’s pages, before glancing up at Robin and Kid Flash. “Just like that, we’re a team on a mission-”

“Wait, wait, wait, before we leave, I think we’re missing something.” All of you turned to Kid Flash as he interrupted Aqualad, but Kid Flash only gestured over to you instead. “We never did get your name, and I can’t exactly call you Beautiful out on the field.”

“Oh right… Sorry-”

“I believed it was my king and mentor who told you not to apologize because you have done nothing wrong,” Aqualad spoke to you, cutting you off as you muttered out an apology. “But it would be nice to have something to call you if we are to be a team.”

“Nightingale, call me Nightingale.”

Taglist: @seleneprince

[vintageshanny]

Playing in the Studio

Content: I haven’t written in a while and I miss it, so I’m trying to get back on the horse. This is just a smutty little fantasy inspired by a remark in Elvis’ studio session for “Goin’ Home” from Stay Away, Joe. 18+

“This song, man. It’s fuckin’ terrible.” Elvis could feel his frustration mounting as he tried take after take for the latest mediocre soundtrack. He was so lost in his irritation that he missed the sound of the studio door opening. “I’m gonna start playin’ with mah peter if I stand here much longer.” Elvis’ joke caught in his throat as he heard the sound of heels clicking across the floor behind him, followed by a soft throat clearing.

“Is that why this session is going on so long? I’m not sure if the studio would approve of funds being spent in this way.” Grace tried to hide her amused smirk as Elvis turned and stared at her, his face flushed. She couldn’t tell at first if he was angry or embarrassed. Probably both, she concluded, as he started a stammering explanation.

“I-I-I was jus’ tryin’ ta lighten the mood, it’s, uh, gettin’ pretty tense in here. I-I'm sorry, I didn’t know we had, uh, mixed company here.” Elvis’ eyes wandered over her curvy frame before he could stop them.

“No need to apologize, I’ve heard worse from the studio bigwigs. They actually sent me here to see how the session is going.” She reached her hand out in introduction. “Grace Delaney.” She tried to ignore the little tingle she felt as Elvis grabbed her hand in his own and stroked the back of it gently with his thumb.

“I’m Elvis,” he announced with a grin, his stormy blue eyes twinkling as he took notice of the effect his touch had.

Grace cleared her throat again, trying to regain her composure as some of the musicians snickered in the background.

“There are a couple things I need to speak to you about, Mr. Presley. Is there somewhere private we could talk?”

“Sure, dear.” Elvis motioned with his head toward a small office in the back of the studio. “Uh, take five fellas, looks like I’m bein’ summoned to the principal’s office,” he called back over his shoulder.

He closed the door to the office behind them and looked expectantly at Grace, his hands on his hips, wondering what the studio wanted to hassle him about now.

“Mr. Presley,” Grace started, averting her eyes from the sweat stains in his armpits. When had sweat ever looked this sexy? “The studio is concerned about your attitude in the last session.”

Elvis’ jaw clenched slightly. He knew where this was going. The one time he’d begged for a song not to be included, and they have to give him a hard time. “They got me singin’ to a fuckin’ donkey!” he exploded. “What the hell kinda attitude do they ‘spect me ta have?” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Sorry, honey, I know you’re jus’ doin’ your job, but I-I-I can’t deal with this right now.” He leaned back against the wall, looking defeated as he pulled a small cigar and book of matches from his shirt pocket.

“They just want to make sure that you’ll record the rest of the material in time. I’m sorry, Mr. Presley.” Grace felt a twinge of guilt at being the bearer of this bad news. There was something about him that just made her want to take care of him.

“Call me Elvis, honey. What do ya think of this stuff they’re makin’ me record?”

“Well Mr., um, Elvis, I think...” Grace paused looking for the right words. “I think you’re doing the best you can with what they’re giving you.” Truth be told, she hadn’t listened to a new Elvis record in years. “I can certainly understand your frustration. I just think the studio wants to make sure the public doesn’t hear about you hating the material. It’s not a good look for the movie.”

“Tell ‘em to stop givin’ me shit to record then,” Elvis sighed. “Sometimes I worry my fans think I’m perfect. I can’t live up to it.” He looked pensive as he lifted the small cigar to his pouty lips.

Surprised at his sudden display of vulnerability, Grace searched for something soothing to say. “Maybe they know you’re not perfect and they just love you anyway. Maybe they relate more to you because of it.”

“Hmph. Don’t know ‘bout that,” Elvis murmured. “They don’t see me in the studio, losin’ my mind over this shit.”

“If they saw you frustrated and cussing over a mediocre song, you really think they would hold that against you?”

Elvis considered the question, a little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe not, but they prob’ly don’ wanna hear me talkin’ ‘bout playin’ with mahself.” He grinned as if daring her to respond, but not really expecting her to.

“It sure caught my attention,” Grace said boldly, taking a little step toward him. Don’t back down now. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” She delighted in the way Elvis’ face turned a bright shade of red as he stuttered out his response.

“You’ve been thinkin’ a-a-about me s-s-sayin' that?”

“I've been thinking about you doing it.” Grace took another step closer, and reached out for Elvis’ free hand, the other one still loosely holding the cigar. She brushed her fingers along the back of his hand and then took hold of it, guiding it where she wanted it, waiting to see if he would stop her.

Elvis stared down into her face, his lips slightly parted. He wasn’t always drawn to such a forward woman, but some part of him needed this right now.

Grace pressed his hand against the zipper of his pants, watching the way his long fingers cupped around the bulge there. Nothing could prepare her for the sweet sound of the moan he let out at the feeling of his own touch.

“Oh shit, baby, I can’t go back out there now. It’s standin’ at attention already.” He moved his hand to the side so she could see his dilemma.

Grace felt dizzy with lust as she looked at him poking straight out, the fabric of his pants stretched taut. “You should relieve your stress before you go back out there,” she whispered, backing up a step, leaning against the desk behind her.

“Ya gonna give me some privacy?” Elvis asked, a little nervous laughter escaping his lips.

“I’ve been sent to make sure you’re ready to record the material. I better stay and make sure your attitude has been...adjusted.” Grace leaned forward to unbutton his pants. As she tugged at the zipper, she saw the start of his patch of hair, no underwear to block her view of what was coming.

Elvis groaned a little bit as his member was set free, bouncing a little bit with nothing to constrain it any more. Grace pressed his hand back against it, guiding him to wrap his fingers around its thickness. She could feel the warmth radiating off of him. She grabbed his cigar and leaned back against the desk again, taking a little puff, her heart racing with desire.

“H-h-honey, ya shouldn’t do that. It ain’t lady-like,” Elvis whispered hoarsely, starting to tug at himself, rubbing his thumb over his leaky tip while she stared in awe.

“I’m just trying to help.” Grace smiled sweetly. “Besides, there’s a time and place to be lady-like. Sometimes you just need some good old-fashioned pleasure.” She lifted her skirt and slipped her free hand inside of her panties, feeling how aroused he had made her.

“Oh, fuck, honey, l-l-lemme see ya,” Elvis begged, his eyes widening at the erotic sight before him. He continued the rhythmic jerking of his wrist as she pulled her panties to the side so he could see the way her fingers played with her throbbing button, spreading her wetness everywhere.

Elvis’ motion had caused his pants to slip down to his knees. Grace watched the way his hard cock twitched in his hand, his balls hanging below, begging to be emptied. She marveled at how every inch of him was perfect. It was too much. She leaned back farther, gasping for air as her legs started to shake. “Oh god,” she moaned out softly, trying to ride through the pleasure as quietly as possible.

“Oh fuck,” Elvis’ motions sped up as he watched her fluttering and shaking across from him. “Fuck, I’m gonna make a mess, honey, oh shit,” he groaned, feeling himself about to erupt.

In her hazy state, Grace leaned forward and knelt in front of him. “Can’t have you makin’ a mess,” she murmured. Elvis let go of himself just in time for Grace to take him in her mouth and feel his warm salty cum land on her tongue. She massaged his sensitive balls softly, her fingers still sticky with her own pleasure. Elvis jerked forward unsteadily, his body trembling as he used his hands to brace himself on her shoulders, her tongue caressing the tip of him, licking up every drop before he softened and retreated into his silky soft foreskin.

Elvis leaned back against the wall again, head tilted back and eyes closed, as Grace tenderly pulled his pants back up and zipped and buttoned them for him. “Do ya do this for all the artists with a bad attitude?”

Grace looked up to see Elvis smiling down at her, his eyes full of warmth and humor as he teased her. She blushed, for the first time really wondering what he might think of her. “No,” she said, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his plump lips. “I guess you’re just special. I wanted to make you feel better.”

Elvis blushed a little as he pulled her into a warm hug. “That’s sweet, honey. Ya really did make me feel better. In a lotta ways.”

“Maybe I can check on you again sometime? Make sure your attitude is still good? Relieve your stress?”

Elvis’ eyes crinkled with happiness as he looked down. “That would be nice.” He grabbed his cigar back and stuck it between his teeth before adding with a wink, “Then I’ll have a chance ta taste ya.”

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone

[nicolejones412]

Out of Sync Part 7

Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: You've found yourself with the 107th fighting Hydra, where you meet a handsome Sergeant. But something just isn't right.

A/N: Two chapters in two days! I really should probably be spreading these out to buy time for if/when I run out of steam, but I don't have that kind of impulse control. Again I don't have a ton to say about this one, other than buckle up and enjoy!

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 2 here. Read Part 3 here. Read Part 4 here. Read Part 5 here. Read Part 6 here.

FIC:

"So wait, are you trying to tell me that you're my..." You trailed off, not really wanting to say the word or be wrong.

"The genetic match is consistent with that of a paternity test."

You sat back in your chair, staring into nothing.

"But that's not possible." You'd found yourself saying that a lot lately though.

"I know. Perhaps there is a version of me in your universe."

"But if I have the X gene I got it from you," you countered. "And as far as I'm aware it doesn't - you don't exist where I'm from."

"Perhaps." He sighed, obviously considering asking something.

"Do you have any memory of your mother?"

You exhaled, calling up the few memories you did have. You were able to recall her face well enough. You still heard her voice on occasion. You were seven years old when she died, so it had been a while but not so long that she'd completely faded.

You didn't say another word. You just nodded and opened your mind to him.

There was elegance in how quickly the professor could locate these memories, especially as you recalled them. He took you on the journey with him, and you both relived one of your most cherished memories.

Your mother singing you a lullaby.

It was a simple, commonly known one. You Are My Sunshine to be exact.

You opened your eyes and looked at the professor, who was staring at you in disbelief, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"What was your mother's name?"

You sighed. "I don't actually know her given name. She always went by Grace Y/L/N after some incident that landed her in some form witness protection. I tried to find out, but everything was sealed and buried or burned."

He let out a shaky breath. "When I knew her, she called herself Alexandra Hope. Or Alex for short."

"You're sure you knew her? That specific woman?"

The professor shook his head. "All this time I wondered why she disappeared. No word or warning. Just like when she'd arrived in my life."

He went on to explain that around six years ago, he had met Alexandra, and they had fallen in love. She was a bit of a mystery to him. Purposely so. He'd wanted to get to know her without reading her mind. They spent nearly a year together, and then one day she just disappeared. Once he'd gotten Cerebro, he'd tried to find her, but it was no use. She didn't seem to be anywhere. At one point he used a CIA contact to try to find any record of her, and it was like she never existed.

"So she was from my universe, somehow ended up here, and after getting pregnant she left?"

The professor shrugged. "It's the theory that has made the most sense in the last five years." He wiped his eyes. "I apologize Y/N, I'm not sure I'm in the best way for a lesson today."

You nodded, not sure what to do. You finally landed on going to get some fresh air to give you both time to think.

Hours passed. You'd walked out into the woods surrounding the property. Your mind was reeling and you felt like you had to do something, so since you wouldn't be practicing telepathy today, you chose to focus on your time travel powers, choosing different animals or clouds in the spring air to track as you turned time back 5, 10, 30 seconds at a time.

It wasn't long before you were spent and you plopped down at the base of a tree. You were definitely improving, if only a little. You could make it a few more seconds, be just a bit more precise.

If only you'd had this time to practice before the airport. Before Rhodes.

Your mind wandered from your own world shaking revelation to them. Your old team.

Rhodes. Tony. Vision. Wanda. Nat. Sam. Steve. Bucky.

Of course I'll come back.

That was what you'd said, but how were you supposed to get back when it seemed the literal universe had spat you out.

They were probably worried sick right now. And here you were, just having a family reunion.

You hoped that the team had found the weapons. And you knew that Shuri and Bucky would continue to make progress. In both cases you had pointed them in the right direction, and they were more than capable of handling the rest.

What about Clint? How were he and the kids? You weren't the only spending time with family. You chuckled at that thought.

As the sun got closer to the horizon, you decided it was time to head back.

You wondered what Charles was going through. You at least knew you had a dad out there somewhere, now suddenly he has a daughter show up out of nowhere who is more than a decade older than she should be. You wondered if he'd try to talk to you tonight, or if he was trying to give you space and he would reach out. Did you even want him to reach out? Were you ready to have that conversation?

Who were you kidding? Of course you were ready. You were an orphan finding her father who never knew she existed because of some interdimensional incident.

Before you could decide what to do, you saw him, sitting in his chair staring out over the pond.

Most everyone had gone inside for dinner at this point, so you walked up, sitting on a bench next to him.

After a moment of silence, he pointed across the water.

"My grandfather planted that tree when he was five years old."

You nodded, staring across at it.

"I guess the point I'm trying to make is that this land has been in my family for generations. And I suppose I always assumed that one day I would have children and it would go to them. And then this school became a reality and - oh where was I going with this?" He took a deep breath.

"I am trying very terribly to apologize for my reaction earlier today. Finding out you have a child, who isn't even a child, in fact is hardly younger than yourself and especially when that brings closure to something you thought you would never...and then that closure doesn't exactly help like you thought it would..."

"It's alright," you cut in, turning to him. "I get it. You had a lot of information to take in and your world turned upside down. I've been getting used to that feeling recently."

He nodded, meeting your gaze. "That you have."

You fell back into silence as you both looked out over the water again.

"Who all knows?"

"Just Hank. It's a bit of a hard one to explain."

You nodded and allowed a smirk to cross your face.

"Well I guess we know where I get my incredible talent from."

Charles laughed dryly. "That we do. And you are incredible, Y/N. Extraordinary in every way." He looked down at the ground.

"I know you don't really need a father, nor am I truly ready to be one," he took one of your hands in both of his as he lifted his gaze to find yours, "but I would like to help you where I can. As a tutor and as a friend."

You felt the tears welling in your eyes, and you squeezed his hands.

"I'd like that very much." You both chuckled as tears filled both of your eyes.

"Well then, we'd better go get dinner."

You nodded, standing and offering to push his chair back to the house.

"So what? Do I call you Dad now?"

He laughed out loud. "I'm not sure either of us is ready for that, but Charles will be fine."

-

May 14, 1967

"Remember I expect your reports on Frankenstein Monday morning. Now go on I don't have to read your minds to know you're ready to get out in the sunshine."

It had rained for nearly a week and the students jumped up at the chance to finally enjoy some nice weather. You sighed and sat down at your desk, sorting through your files.

"Good day?" Charles asked as he rolled in. You nodded.

"Holding their attention was difficult but I can't blame them."

"The students aren't the only ones whose attention is adrift." You stood and moved to put some books on your shelf.

"I'm fine, really."

"I don't have to read your mind to know you're lying. Do you think I don't know what day it is?"

Of course I know what day it is but I'd rather just ignore it.

And you are doing a brilliant job at that, are you?

You both knew you weren't. Month after month, year after year you had grown to accept that this might just be your home now. You, Hank, and Charles had all tried to figure out how to get you back home, but without being able to replicate the event there was no way to know how it happened in the first place, let alone how to make it happen again.

"Well, as that was your last class of the day, I'd say this calls for a drink." You nodded and followed Charles into the halls to his study, where he kept a stash of the good stuff.

"So, what exactly is on your mind today?"

You swirled the liquid in your glass. What exactly were you missing about how today?

"I'm just worried," you started. "Some sort of planet ending threat tends to pop up every couple of years, so I'm worried for my friends." You took a long sip.

"And I miss the internet."

"Ah yes," Charles chuckled.

You'd given up on trying to explain the tension you were under to him about a year in. He insisted that he understood. Two things could be true. You could enjoy being here and learning and teaching and getting to know the family you didn't know you had, and you could miss the one you did know.

The more time that passed, the more you wondered if this would be just as hard for you to leave behind as everything else.

"You don't have to feel guilty for being happy. You know that right?" You nodded, not wanting to admit out loud that he had accurately diagnosed that particular emotion.

How could you be considering not going home? What if they needed you?

But what if you were needed here too?

You decided you were done thinking about that and changed the subject.

It wasn't necessarily the typical father-daughter relationship, but you were grateful to have it.

The evening passed, and at some point you were joined by Hank (you were still getting used to him not being blue), and Alex.

A wonderful way to spend the anniversary of the world turning upside down.

-

You woke up in a cold sweat. Your dream hadn't necessarily been scary, but it was disturbing.

You couldn't remember all of it, but you clearly remembered the last moment.

Steve, dropping to his knees and saying "Oh God."

You didn't dream of home often, and rarely was it so...vivid.

You felt a pain in your stomach and groaned.

Must've been the whiskey.

As you got up, the moon still high in the sky, you realized you were mistaken.

Charles! you screamed in your mind, hoping to wake him up. His room wasn't far from yours.

Y/N? he even sounded groggy in his mind. What's happening?

It's happening again. I think I'm leaving.

Leaving? What are you-? Oh! He didn't even have to ask if you were choosing to. Your mind was awash with fear.

Charles pressed into your mind, taking note of everything, and even though you knew he wasn't physically standing there, you were grateful for the image he tricked your brain into seeing as the tugging and pain increased.

Y/N, listen to me. You need to stop fighting this. You'll be alright, but I feel what you're feeling and it's going to tear you in two.

But...but I-

I know. I love you, and I believe you will find us again.

You blinked and Charles was gone.

So was your room. You looked around, and realized it was nighttime. You were standing on a damp city street in your pajamas. You frantically reached up to your neck, finding the simple X necklace which Charles had given you on your first birthday there.

You were drained. Conscious this time, but drained. You didn't have it in you to figure out where you were. You just got into an alley sat on the ground and cried.

"Excuse me?" a woman asked as she approached you. You quickly skimmed her thoughts, trying to see if there were any clues to where you were, or if she was a threat.

Oh the poor dear, she's got to be freezing. I wonder when she last ate. This really isn't my best idea but I can't just leave her here.

"Are you alright?" she asked, stepping closer.

"Yes, um, well, no. I seem to have gotten myself lost."

She looked you up and down as she pulled off her coat. "It would appear so! Here, take this."

You decided now was the time to sort out where and when you were, as non-suspiciously as possible.

This woman's hair and clothes implied you were further back than before. Great.

"Well, I know you don't know me, but you really shouldn't be out on the street. Come on let's get you warmed up and fed."

"Oh I couldn't possibly-"

"Yes you can, come on now."

You relented, exhaustion hitting you like a truck.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. My name is Peggy by the way. Peggy Carter."

You had to keep yourself from holding your mouth agape. No way you were standing in front of the Peggy Carter.

The silence got awkward before you realized she was waiting for your name. You panicked, deciding it might be better to give a false name this time.

"Charlotte. Charlotte Grace."

-

When you got to her apartment, you passed out quickly on the couch. You didn't have time or energy to stress about anything right now.

You were shocked that when you awoke, the sun wasn't up yet. Peggy was still fast asleep. You took a deep breath, weighing your options.

You decided the easiest way might actually be best this time.

So, you dove into her mind, getting all the information you could. Today was March 23rd, 1942. Tomorrow she was going to meet with Dr. Erskine and join the SSR. You even searched her mind to find a cover story she might actually believe about you being outside alone in the cold.

Everything in her mind pointed to the idea that you might actually be in your home timeline, just in the past. There was no way to no for sure at this point, so you settled on a plan.

You started placing barriers, just like Charles had taught you, but this time in your own mind.

You would trick yourself into believing that you were in fact Charlotte Grace. Trying to keep us much of it true as possible, you decided that you had traveled from upstate. You were supposed to meet someone (can't just be someone, who is he?) an old friend of your father's, who had passed away. But it turned out this friend had also passed recently, and so she found you after you'd been kicked out of your hotel because you ran out of money.

You filled in blanks in this new personality, and where you missed gaps you'd have to fill in with real life things. You having knowledge of the future could jeopardize everything, so it was better to play it safe.

You would be Charlotte Grace, a strange, unlucky human girl who had no super powers, and you'd have a back door in your subconscious to wake you up. If things got too intense and you needed to wake up, your subconscious could always punch a way through.

You laid down, ready to go back to sleep for at least an hour before the sun came up.

When you woke up, you wouldn't remember anything, at least not in your conscious mind.

That should make it so you could keep your head down and not disturb anything too big.

Right?

-

A/N: I told you we'd be back! Really I have loved writing again and this idea has been in my head for years, so I can't believe I'm actually doing the dang thing. Hope you enjoy!

[unspoken-blossomed-feelings]

{He already has the key to your heart, he may as well get the one to your place.}

ᯓ✮ Hyunjin & gn! reader

ᯓ✮ content: fluff 🌷

ᯓ✮ wc: 961

ᯓ✮ warning: none.

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You were about to go on your lunch break when you heard your phone buzzing.

New messages💌

[Hyune🌷] Hey, what time do you get off work?

[Hyune🌷] Is it okay if I come over?

You re read the messages twice to make sure you were reading them correctly. Still feeling confused, you texted back.

At six

Since WHEN do YOU🫵🏼 ask if you can come over??? 🤨

And just for the record, IT IS okay, silly.

See you later, Hyune!

Once you were free to leave, you made a quick detour to get some food before going back home to Hyunjin. You still couldn't get out of your head why he had asked whereas he could come over or not though. It didn't make a lot of sense seeing how much time he already spent at your place.

     As soon as you set one foot out of the elevator, you started looking for the keys in your pocket. You were walking towards your door, when you saw a person sitting in front of it. But, it wasn't just any person. It was your person. Sitting on the floor, cross-legged, busy with his sketchbook.

"Hyune?" you asked, frowning.

     To your surprise, he simply looked up at you and smiled. "Hey, you're back"

"For how long have you been waiting? Did I take too long?" Your hand went straight into your bag to get your phone. You had to check the time to find out how long you had made him wait for you. It couldn't have been that long, right?

     He sprung up from his place, his hands reaching out to hold your arms carefully. "No, no, no. I arrived early," he tried to calm you down, "...Way earlier, actually."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"I may have forgotten to take my key with me before leaving this morning," he said, giving you a small smile "And Changbin is visiting some friends, so he's out of town."

"You can't be serious," you sighed, "why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry," he shook his head, and then bopped your nose. "I knew you would have rushed back home."

"Well, obviously. You were out here, all alone for who knows how long just sitting on the cold floor."

     Hyunjin giggled at your slightly dramatic expression. Maybe, he had been rubbing off on you after all.

"Well, I wasn't alone all the time," he told you, and you furrowed your brow slightly. "That nice old lady who lives at the end of the corridor saw me and stayed with me for a while, said she got worried when she saw me sitting here. She even asked if we broke up and you kicked me out."

"That nice old lady loves gossiping," you scoffed. "We're not even dating yet, and she already got me on the wanted list for worst partners?"

     Hyunjin glued his wide eyes to the back of your head as you unlocked the door. He wondered if he had heard you correctly, but you were too busy complaining about your neighbor's comment. "I wouldn't kick you out. Why would she say that?"

     Once the door was open, you ushered him inside the apartment. The two of you left your bags, washed your hands then ran back to sit down on the couch.

     Hyunjin left out a deep sigh as you stretched to pick your food from the bags. "I swear your couch never felt so soft. It's like a gentle embrace to my butt."

     You laughed as Hyunjin plopped his head against the headrest and stretched his limbs. Left arm over the armrest, right arm hanging off the couch, and sock clad feet bumping your legs as he stretched slightly.

"Hyune, stop pushing me with your feet. You'll make me drop the food."

     It took poking him a couple times for him to sit cross-legged again, then you handed him his food. "Also, that's what you get for forgetting your keys and not telling me."

"I said it was because I didn't want you to worry!" Hyunjin frowned, pouting as he scooped some food from your own container.

"Stop trying to eat my food."

     He smirked, delighted by your response. "Oh, I don't do things halfway. I'm not trying to eat your food. I'm eating your food, successfully."

     You hummed, brow furrowed as you munched on your food. Then, you got up in silence. Hyunjin's eyes followed you as you left the living room, and then came back.

     He stared at you curiously, waiting quietly for your next move. You held out your hand, and he quickly placed one of his over yours. After that, he saw you place something on his palm. "Here."

     You went back to your spot on the couch while he looked at the object laying on his hand. "What's this?"

"Woah, it's a keychain I made for you. Is it that ugly?" you asked, pretending to be offended.

"What?! You knowㅡyou know that's not what I meant!" he huffed, waving his hands around. "I like the key chain, thank you." he caressed the bright charm you had sculpted before landing his eyes on you. "I was talking about the key, you know."

     You nodded. "It's a key to my apartment."

     It should have been more than enough of an answer. But, his silence told you otherwise. So, you kept going. "Well, in case you forget your key again, you can simply let yourself in. Or, in case you arrive before me. Then, you won't have to wait for me outside."

"Seriously?"

"I mean, you do spend a lot of time here with me... My neighbor even thinks you live here."

     He nodded. "And that you left me outside."

"And that I left you outside, abandoned, in the cold corridor. Yup. She won't think that again."

"Alright. I'll keep it on me at all times, I promise."  Hyunjin swore solemnly, hand placed over his heart, and a serious expression on his face.

"Just make sure not to forget both keys at the same time."

     Any other day, Hyunjin would get back at you for trying to tease him. But, once again, he was silent, simply staring at you attentively.

"What?"

"I was just thinking that now you can't get rid of me." He shrugged. "You love me sooo much. Can't never get enough of me, hmm?"

"Don't get on my nerves, or I'll take your key away."

     He gasped, loud, and absolutely offended. "You can't do that! Once you give something, you can't take it away!"

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ᯓ✮m.list

A/N: Ugh, I'm not sure if this turned out the way I wanted 🥹 idk idk

Also, quick question. Are que texts easy to understand in this format? I wasn't sure if making a picture with an app would be better, but it was something so brief that it didn't seem necessary.

I mean, I understand it just fine, but I don't know if it looks confusing to other people. I would appreciate knowing your thoughts on that. 🙂‍↕️

If you're reading this, I hope you're doing well lovely people!! 🌷 take care. x

-Sophie🌱

unspoken-blossomed-feelings🌱