#it's been like three months i'm so sorry but I'M BACK..........

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ can I call her what she is? ⋆⭒˚.⋆

summary: Doyoung has a new girlfriend and she makes it very clear to you and you alone that she doesn't like you. Too bad no one believes you

(cw: f!reader, cursing, side character is a bitch, the guys are idiots, angsty with a happy ending!)

You liked to think you were a likable person. You were kind, you had good manners, you were polite, you were never rude, but now you were starting to rethink it all. Ever since Doyoung's girlfriend, Jane, started hanging around, actually. They hadn't been together long, but she was a strong character so it was no wonder she wormed her way into hanging around with you guys.

It wasn't that she was outright mean, but she was snide and passive aggressive. Only to you it seemed. You really should have been in a better state of mind too, you and fratboy!Jaehyun had been official now for a few weeks now. There was a lot of texting over winter break and a lot of time spent together since school started back up. However, you were still a little iffy about you two being together. Old insecurities hadn't yet been quelled and Jane being a bitch just made you feel worse.

Somehow Jane had finagled her way into a Sunday dinner, an event usually reserved the brothers and their partners. It made sense, but usually partners didn't show up within the first month of dating. Jane and Doyoung had only been together for three weeks from what you understood, and you knew better than anyone that being around this group of guys could be a lot. You'd attended a few times before you and Jaehyun were official and you remember being beyond overwhelmed.

You and Taeyong were in the kitchen, plating up the take out you guys had ordered. The kitchen was loud since everyone was hanging out waiting for the last few people to show up. It was like every other Sunday dinner, loud laughing, lots of talking, and complaining about Johnny being gone, some kind of family emergency.

Doyoung led Jane into the kitchen and you watched as she went around the room and greeted everyone. You exhaled a long breath, watching as she greeted Taeyong with a wave and a smile on her face. You waved at her, smiling, "Hey Jane, it's so good to see you again."

The smile on her face freezes, the smile no longer reaching her eyes, "right, so good to see you too."

The weird feeling you always get around her settles into your stomach as dinner progresses. The guys hang on Jane's every word as she explains some kind of biological chemistry phenomenon. Even you have to admit it's interesting, but then she turns to you. The smile on her face is sweet, but you know that look. She's about to say something rude to you.

She clears her throat as she turns to you, "and I'm sorry, what was your major again? Something with children, right?"

"Yeah, I'm an elementary education major," you nod. Jaehyun smiles as he rubs your back, encouraging this connection between the ladies of Nu Chi Theta.

"Of course you are," Jane nods, "you know, times have changed. Women are more than able to pick something in fields that aren't already overrun by females."

You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out and Jane's attention is drawn elsewhere with a smug smirk in your direction. What the fuck was her problem?

The dinner ends not too much later, though you had hoped it would have ended sooner. Jane has gone home, something about chemistry homework or whatever. You stay at the table gnawing on your bottom lip as the guys continue to talk around you. You turn to Jaehyun on your right, your voice low, "do you think Jane is mean to me?"

His brows furrow, "what are you talking about? She's nice to everyone."

You helplessly turn to Haechan who sits on your left. He's always had your back, surely he'll believe you, right? "Do you think Jane is weird with me?"

"Did she say something mean to you?" Haechan asks, you nod sincerely, "I didn't catch that. What did she say?"

"About my major being overrun with females," you explain slowly.

Haechan cocks his head to the side, "well, teaching is a field dominated by women so she wasn't really wrong though was she?"

After that night you start to second guess yourself. Were you overthinking it? Was she not being mean to you? Were you making it all up? Still, you find that you don't attend the Sunday dinners because you know she'll be there. When you can't avoid her, you just get quiet and don't interact as much as you normally would.

Tonight though, you cant avoid it. All your excuses have run out and unfortunately telling Jaehyun your pet chinchilla was sick didn't work. You sit in your usual seat, poking at the food on your plate with a blank look on your face.

You can feel Jane's bitchy energy focused right on you. Great, here comes another blow. She sets her cup down, "so did you help Taeyong make dinner tonight?"

You shake your head, not looking up from your plate, "no."

"No wonder it tastes better," she laughs and to your dismay, the rest of the table bursts out in chuckles too.

"But we usually order take out, so she doesn't cook anyway," you hear Johnny pipe up. You look up, feeling a sense of hope and an immense sense of appreciation for your friend.

It's barely enough to deter Jane. She waves off Johnny's comment with another laugh, "so how long have Sunday dinners been for official partners? I know you and Jaehyun haven't been official for very long, right?"

Jaehyun pipes up, "Since the middle of December, happiest days of my life since then."

The other guys roll their eyes playfully, having heard enough about the two of you to know that they won't miss out on anything as they return to their own conversations. Her brows furrow as she leans in from her seat across from you, "Doyoung mentioned that you two had a think going on for months before, so were you just a booty call? Did you trick him into making it official?"

"Ha, trick me," Jaehyun chuckles. Your brows furrow as you look at him with a look of complete hurt. Did he not hear everything she said?

"And I mean really, besides his good looks, what was so appealing about Jaehyun? He had a reputation for sticking his dick anywhere didn't he? I don't think I'd ever let a man disrespect me the way he disrespected you," she shrugs her shoulders, looking around the table at all the guys who have now gone silent.

Johnny coughs out in shock, "yo, what the fuck, Jane?"

"I'm just being honest," Jane shrugs, "it's not that serious."

"No! It is that serious. No one asked you to be honest about shit that doesn't have the slightest thing to do with you," Johnny counters.

"It's just girl talk John, typical female conversation," Jane rolls her eyes.

"But it's not a conversation when Sweets hasn't even said more than one word. You're being really fucking rude. There's no reason to dredge up old wounds for my friends and make a mess where you're not involved at all," Jonnny argues.

"She also implied that I'm a slut," Jaehyun pipes up.

Johnny holds his open palm out in Jaehyun's direction, "I just watched you let Jane stomp all over your girlfriend and decimate her self esteem, you don't get to be defended right now. You fucking laughed about Jane saying Sweets was just a booty call, bro!"

"Johnny, it's alright..." you offer quietly.

"It's really not though. Is this the first time she's talked to you like this?" Johnny asks.

Beside you Haechan shakes his head softly, "it's not. She made some comments a few weeks ago and Sweets asked us about it."

"And that's why you haven't been coming to the dinners, isn't it?" Johnny asks.

You're barely able to nod before Jaehyun is tugging you into his arms in a tight hug and apologizing profusely right in your ear, "I was such an idiot. I'm so sorry, Sweetheart. I'm always going to listen to whatever you say and agree no matter what."

Johnny clears his throat, "I'm sorry to do this to your girlfriend, Doyoung, but I'm going to have to invoke my power as vice president of this frat and ask that you leave, Jane."

Doyoung chokes on his drink, "have you been telling people you're my girlfriend?"

"Yes, because I said I am," Jane rolls her eyes as she stands.

"You're my lab partner in chemistry that can't tell when she's overstayed her welcome. You heard Johnny, bye," Doyoung waves.

She strides away with a scoff, telling Doyoung she was breaking up with him. Everyone looks around the table awkwardly before Haechan clears his throat, "we owe you an apology Sweets."

The table of frat boys nods, all expressing their words of apology as Jaehyun holds you tightly and presses a kiss to the top of your head. Haechan groans, "well, can I call her what she is without anyone getting offended? She was a mega bitch!"

"Cheers to that," Jaehyun chuckles, raising his cup.

[thepencilnerd]

Anatomy of Want

summary: Jack Abbot never thought he'd be this undone over a resident. But you were unlike anyone he'd met—brilliant under pressure, quick on your feet, and impossible to ignore. What begins as admiration quickly becomes something deeper, something that simmers beneath every shared shift, until it threatens to boil over. warnings/notes: 18+ MDNI, age gap, slow burn, mutual pining, jealousy, praise kink, shameless smut, oral sex (f&m receiving), body worship, depictions of war scars, literally just an excuse to write jack abbot smut & you kissing his scars bc that man lives in my head rent free wc: 5.4k a/n: forgot i posted this on ao3 but not here :}

You joined the night shift in a flurry of quiet confidence and dazzling competence, and Jack noticed you immediately. It wasn’t just the way you handled patient load like clockwork, or how you navigated the trauma bay with a calm assurance usually reserved for seasoned attendings. It was the way you asked questions, the way you looked at problems sideways, the way you never folded, even when things got messy.

He told himself he was just impressed. That it was his responsibility, as your mentor, to push you. And he did—assigned you the trickiest cases, brought you into every complicated intubation, every crashing patient. You rose to each occasion like you'd been waiting for it, and Jack couldn't stop himself from watching.

"Nice call on that bleed in bay three," he said one night, as you stripped off your gloves, blood spattered on your gown. "You didn’t hesitate."

You shrugged, a wry smile on your lips. "Wasn't much time to, I could've acted faster."

He looked at you a beat longer than necessary. "Take the win, Dr. L/N."

That was how it went for months. Shifts passed in a rhythm he hadn’t felt in years. He trusted you. Relied on you. Admired you, yes, but more than that. There were moments—lingering looks across trauma bays, soft laughs shared over half-spilled coffee at 3 a.m., casual brushes of your hands when passing charts that lingered a beat too long.

Once, when you struggled with a stubborn intubation, he’d leaned in close, murmuring, "You've got this," low enough that it was meant just for you. His hand steadied your elbow, brief but grounding. You’d nailed the tube placement. He’d smiled the whole rest of the shift.

After the harder nights, he started climbing to the roof again. The first time he found you there—legs dangling off the ledge, coffee in hand, still in scrubs—he thought it was coincidence.

It wasn’t.

"Couldn't sleep either?" you'd said without looking at him, voice soft with exhaustion.

He didn’t answer right away. Just sat beside you, shoulder brushing yours.

You didn’t say much after that. Neither did he. Just silence, and the hum of the city below, and a sense of belonging he hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

Some nights, you’d pass a bag of vending machine pretzels back and forth in companionable quiet. Other nights, you'd trade war stories—the worst consults, the craziest saves—your voices low, private, confessions to the stars.

It was easy. Natural. Dangerous.

Jack tried to tell himself it didn’t mean anything. That it was just friendship. Just exhaustion.

But then there were the nights he caught himself watching you laugh at something small, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and his chest tightened with something he couldn’t name.

The tension built slowly, like pressure behind a dam.

Then came the morning you were signing out charts at the nurse’s station, still in your scrubs and rubbing at a bruise forming on your shoulder. Samira Mohan breezed in, bright-eyed, coffee in hand.

"Don’t forget," she said, pulling up beside you. "8pm tonight. David from anesthesia."

"Shit." You'd totally blanked. "I almost forgot, I'm sorry."

"You’re gonna be great," she assured. "He’s nice. And hot. Like... surgery hot."

You couldn't help the snort that escaped you. "What do I even wear? It’s been so long. I bought that one thing..."

Samira's eyes lit up. "Oh, the black lace set?"

"Samira!" Your hands flew up to cover her mouth, cheeks pink and lips pressed tight. "Keep your voice down!" The words came out tight.

"It’s classy!" she laughed, prying your hands off her mouth. "I stand by it. Black is always a good call."

Neither of you noticed Jack at the far end of the nurses' station, flipping through charts but not actually reading them.

He stood there longer than he needed to. Long enough to hear about the date. Long enough to hear about the lingerie. Long enough for his mind to start betraying him—already picturing you in it, delicate black lace against your skin, curves he'd only admired from a respectful distance until now. He wasn't sure whether he'd be more desperate to tear it off you with his hands or his teeth.

And something in him shifted. Just a little. But enough to curl his fingers tighter around the chart in his hands, to clench his jaw until it ached. You sounded hesitant, unsure, nervous in a way that didn’t track with the woman who could crack a diagnosis under pressure without breaking a sweat.

He heard the waver in your voice when you said, "I’m just… worried," and it rang in his head like bolded text. Jack knew you too well not to read between the lines. You weren’t worried about the guy—you were worried because someone else already occupied your mind.

And damn it, he wanted nothing more than for it to be him.

He didn’t want anyone else to be close to you like that. Not because he thought you needed protecting, but because he’d never met someone whose mind, whose hands, whose presence made him feel like maybe—just maybe—he could let someone in again.

Samira nudged you with her elbow, oblivious to the ripple effect her words had left in their wake. "Go home, take a nap, put on something that makes you feel good, and just... have fun, okay? It's your first night off in weeks—you deserve to enjoy it."

You hesitated, biting your lip. "I don't know... it's been a while. What if it's awkward? What if I forgot how to do this?"

She grinned like the devil herself. "You don't forget. It's like muscle memory. Besides, you’re hot. And smart. And wearing black lace. You'll be fine."

You laughed weakly, dropping your voice. "It's just... first date sex? After a dry spell? I feel like I'll crash and burn."

Samira waggled her eyebrows. "Best way to crash. Trust me."

A snap echoed through the room—the sharp, unmistakable crack of plastic breaking.

You and Samira both glanced up.

Jack bent calmly, retrieved the shattered halves of a pen from the floor, and tucked them into his pocket like nothing had happened.

You blinked. Samira blinked. Then shrugged and kept talking.

"Go have fun," she repeated, nudging you again. "Tonight's about you. No pressure, no expectations. Just... have a good time."

You nodded, though your heart wasn't in it. The twist in your stomach wasn't nerves about the date.

It was the thought of someone else entirely.

You smiled weakly and nodded, though your stomach twisted in ways that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with someone else entirely.

On your way out, you passed Jack by the charting station, offered him a quiet, "See you on Monday, Dr. Abbot." He gave you a tight-lipped smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Eight o’clock rolled around faster than you expected.

You stood outside the restaurant, already regretting your decision. The lace set beneath your outfit felt less like a confidence boost and more like a secret that didn’t belong to this version of the night. Still, you squared your shoulders and walked in, searching the tables until you saw a man wave—clean cut, kind smile, textbook charming.

David was, by all accounts, exactly what Samira had described. Funny, intelligent, a bit pretentious, but typical for your average resident. He complimented your dress. Asked about your shift schedule. Talked about scuba diving in Belize, his past summer at his parent's beach house.

But your smile stopped at your cheeks. You laughed at the right moments. You answered questions politely. And every so often, your mind wandered back to a different voice—rougher, lower, more familiar.

You thought of Jack’s dry wit. The way he tucked his hands into his scrub pockets when he was thinking. The sound of his laugh, more of a chuckle, rare but always sincere. The heat in his gaze when he really looked at you, like he was trying to hear what colors tinted your thoughts.

You forced yourself back to the conversation with rapid blinks, nodding at whatever David was saying about residency rotations and placements. He was nice. He really was.

So why did you feel like you were somewhere you didn’t belong?

Maybe it was the way David's hand reached for yours across the table, smooth and tentative, and how you instinctively pulled back before you could stop yourself. It wasn’t rude—just reflex. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel familiar.

Not like Jack’s hands—callused and warm—when they’d guided your wrist during your first real incision, steadying your nerves with his quiet presence. His grip had been firm, reassuring. You could still remember the way his fingers curled gently but purposefully around yours, the scent of antiseptic and adrenaline in the air.

David’s hand was too small. Too soft. Too unsure. There was no strength in it. No certainty. No experience.

God you were going insane.

"Sorry," you exhaled, offering him a polite smile. But your attention was already drifting, your eyes drawn to a familiar silhouette across the room.

Salt and pepper curls caught the neon light just right. Jack Abbot stood at the far end of the bar, one hand wrapped around a beer, the other resting on the wood tabletop, eyes cast toward the floor—until he looked up.

And found you.

Your breath caught. The background noise dulled to static. For a suspended moment, the two of you just stared. Time slowed. Jack didn’t blink. He didn’t look away.

He didn’t have to.

You felt it in your gut—the electric pull of something intangible.

David started talking again, but it was white noise. The clink of a glass, the hum of conversation, all drowned out by the weight of that look, of Jack watching you like you were the only person in the room.

And suddenly, you were.

You raised your wine glass slowly, holding his gaze as you took a sip. Jack mirrored you, bringing his beer to his lips with a quiet intensity that made your chest tighten. The silence stretched between you like a live wire.

Fingers tightening around the stem, you set your glass down with a little too much force, feigning a glance at your phone as if a sudden messaged had triggered a vibration. "Shit, it's an emergency," you lied, offering a rushed, apologetic smile. "Something came up at the hospital. I have to go. I'm so sorry."

David looked disappointed, but nodded, ever the gentleman. "Of course! Rain check?"

A small, apologetic smile tugged at your lips as you rose, shrugging into your coat. Pulse pounding in your ears, you threaded your way through the maze of tables, slipping out the door with a tight exhale.

Behind you, the scrape of a barstool echoed a second later—quick, deliberate.

Out in the cool night air, you rounded the corner into the alley beside the building, your breath misting as you leaned against the brick wall. The adrenaline had only just begun to settle in your bloodstream when you heard the trailing of familiar footsteps.

Jack Abbot appeared a moment later, turning the corner with his hands outstretched, his brow furrowed like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there until his eyes found yours.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low. He shifted closer to you, arms now crossed.

You nodded. "Yeah. I just... needed air."

A pause. Eyes dipped, then lifted again, something unspoken skating between you.

You cleared your throat. "How was your evening?"

Jack blinked at the pivot, letting it settle between you. "Uneventful."

"What were you doing at that bar?" you asked, an arch to your brow that softened the tension.

He allowed himself a grin, shoulders relaxing just slightly. "It’s my usual spot. Popular with the old folks."

"Samira did say it had a vintage charm to it when she picked it out," you replied with a smirk.

Jack scoffed at the poke at his age, making both of you laugh.

"Alright then," he countered, eyes narrowing with a spark of mischief. "What were you doing there?"

You hesitated, then exhaled a slow breath. "Ruining my chances of settling down."

His expression flickered.

"What?" You gave a half-laugh, smile twisted with self-deprecation. "Isn't that the whole point of dating as a doctor? Just a long game of figuring out how emotionally unavailable I still am and forever will be?"

Abbot sighed, long and quiet, like it came from somewhere deeper than just the moment.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him, curiosity tugging at your features. "Were you… waiting on someone?"

That gave him pause.

Jack stilled. The corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a frown, not quite a smile. His gaze didn’t meet yours at first. He looked past you, to the mouth of the alley, like the answer might be written in the shadows or the neon lights beyond. Like if he stalled long enough, you might forget you asked.

"Not exactly," he started, voice rougher than usual.

You lifted a brow.

He exhaled again, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "I didn’t come here for that. But when I saw you…" He trailed off, eyes finally locking onto yours. "Guess I started waiting."

Your breath caught. The weight of his words settled in your chest—slow and warm and heavy. Something about the way he said it made it feel less like a confession and more like an inevitability.

He’d been waiting. Watching. Wanting. The same way you’d been tiptoeing around the truth since you'd stepped foot into that ER—since the very first time your fingers brushed as he passed you a chart, since the first time your eyes met across the trauma bay, since that first quiet moment together on the roof.

With the dim alley light casting soft gold between you, something gave. Tension melted into gravity, and gravity into pull, pull into a quiet explosion. You stepped forward just as he did, meeting in the middle, neither of you saying a word. The kiss hit like floodgates bursting—urgent, aching, years of held-back desire finally snapping loose.

His mouth was warm, tasting of beer and something deeply Jack. His cologne clung to the collar of his coat, smoky and crisp, and you inhaled it like oxygen. Hands found your waist, large and steady, trailing down to your hips and cupping your curves like he'd memorized them long before ever touching. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer, needing more.

It felt like one of those messy makeouts from college—reckless, hungry, impossibly heady. But this wasn't some clumsy hookup. This was the culmination of every stolen glance, every almost-touch, every moment spent not saying the thing that burned between you.

You were both sober enough to know what this was—what it meant. When Jack pulled away, just slightly, his breath brushing your lips, his voice dropped into something gravel-soft. "You're not drunk?"

You shook your head, words catching in your throat. "One glass of wine. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

That was all he needed.

You surged forward, capturing his mouth again with a need that bordered on desperate. Jack backed into the wall with a soft grunt, pulling you in like the space between you had always belonged to him. His hands roamed—one sliding up to cup your jaw, the other finding your lower back, anchoring you like he was terrified you'd disappear.

The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing yours, tasting of mint and longing and everything unspoken between you. You whimpered into his mouth, fingers threading through the curls at the nape of his neck, feeling him shiver at the contact. He devoured you like a man starved, and when he pulled back, just enough to look at you, lips swollen and voice rough, he rasped, "Let me take you home." 

You nodded, breathless, pulse thundering in your throat. The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the tension between you humming like electricity under your skin. Jack simply held your hand the entire way. The air crackled, your hand brushing his once, twice, before he finally laced your fingers together.

Arriving at your front door, your hands trembled slightly as you unlocked it. The weight of what was about to happen anchored itself deep in your stomach. You stepped inside, the warm light of your living room spilling over the hardwood floors. Jack hovered in the doorway, hesitant, until you reached for his hand again.

"Come in," you said softly.

He followed.

You led him to the couch, asking quietly if he wanted anything to drink. Jack shook his head, stepping closer until your bodies were barely apart.

"I don’t need anything," he murmured. "Except you."

You inhaled sharply, but before you could speak, his lips were on yours again—slower this time, reverent, like he was memorizing every contour of your mouth. His hands cupped your face as he pulled you closer, until you felt the full heat of him against you.

You reached for the hem of his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders, then your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbling slightly. Jack took over, shrugging out of it with ease. Beneath, his skin was warm and firm beneath your wandering hands, the light dusting of chest hair catching the soft glow of your floor lamp.

Jack’s hands slid under the hem of your top, brushing up your sides, warm palms skating over bare skin. When he pulled it over your head and saw the black lace lingerie beneath—filigree against your skin, delicate and dark—his breath caught in his throat.

"That kid," he spat, "wouldn’t know how to take care you."

You managed a breathless laugh, the tension and heat between you turning reckless. "And what exactly does taking care of me imply, Dr. Abbot?" you teased, voice low and daring.

Jack's eyes darkened immediately, his fingers tightening slightly where they gripped your waist. "Everything you need," he rasped. "And more."

You smiled, bold with adrenaline, tipping your chin up toward him. "And you think you can handle me?"

He leaned in, mouth grazing your ear, voice wrecked and certain. "Sweetheart," Jack said, "I'm counting on it."

He unclasped your bra with one hand, letting it fall away before sliding his palms across your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples in slow, deliberate strokes. "You’re perfect."

You arched into him with a quiet gasp, his touch both soothing and incendiary. He kissed your neck, down your collarbone, until he was lowering you gently onto the couch.

"Let me take care of you," he said, voice hoarse with restraint.

Your only answer was a nod, a whispered, "Please."

Jack kneeled between your thighs, kissing his way down your stomach, murmuring soft nothings against your skin. He slipped your underwear down slowly, eyes locked with yours. He paused only briefly, kissing the inside of your thigh before taking two fingers and teasing them along your entrance.

You gasped, hips bucking as he gently eased a finger inside, curling it expertly. "So wet for me," he murmured, awed. "God, you’re dripping."

And then he was lowering his mouth to you, tongue parting you gently. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, your back arched and your fingers dove into his hair, holding tight.

Jack groaned against you, the sound vibrating through your core. "I could live here," he muttered. "Die happy between your thighs."

You whimpered, tugging harder at his hair. "Jack—please—"

He didn’t stop. His tongue moved in rhythm with his fingers, slow at first and then faster, guided by your every gasp and shudder. The sound of him—soft groans muffled against your slick, the wet sounds of his mouth working you over—had your skin tingling. The taste of you seemed to drive him wild, his chin slick with your arousal as he murmured, "Fucking incredible," into your core.

His fingers curled just right, finding that perfect spot with unerring precision. Your moans spilled out freely, hands clutching at his hair, holding him there. He groaned again, a sound of pure pleasure. "That’s it, sweetheart. Let go for me."

When it broke—when you shattered with a breathless, keening cry—Jack held you through it, grounding you with his strong hands bracketing your hips. His lips never left you, drawing out every tremble, every ripple of your climax until it became too much. Your thighs twitched, pleasure tipping toward the edge of pain, and with trembling fingers, you tapped gently at his shoulder. A silent plea for mercy.

He stilled instantly, pulling back with his mouth slick and eyes dark, but gentle.

You could only scoff, breath shaky and a smile of bliss coloring your face. Jack leaned forward to press a kiss to your thigh, tender and unhurried. "You’re unbelievable," he whispered, voice rough with awe and restraint.

He pulled back slowly, face glistening, licking his fingers clean before sucking them into his mouth, savoring every bit of your taste. Then he looked up at you like you were the only thing that existed. Like he'd just touched heaven.

As he kissed up your body, his breath fanned across your damp skin—each kiss a pause, a confession. His facial hair scraped lightly in contrast to the softness of his lips, leaving trails of heat along your ribs, then your collarbone. When he reached your neck, he lingered there, nuzzling the hollow beneath your jaw before pressing a kiss to it, like he couldn't get enough of the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you breathed beneath him.

"Can I undress you?" you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. He looks up at you like the morning sky, warmth, admiration, and affection—but there's hesitation there too.

He swallows, jaw flexing slightly, before nodding. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Just... heads up."

You pause, thumb brushing the edge of his cheek. "Jack?"

His voice is rough. "You’ll see scars. From before. It’s not a big deal, just... some of them are pretty bad." He tries to laugh it off, but his eyes flicker away and his shoulders tense. Your heart cracks open at the vulnerability he rarely lets anyone see.

"Hey," you murmur, tilting his face back toward yours. "Whatever you’ve been through, whatever you carry—I want to see all of you. Every piece."

Jack's throat bobbed with a swallow, eyes glassy as he searched your face for doubt—and found none. His fingers brushed lightly along your jaw. 

You undressed him slowly, fingers trembling as you tugged his belt open, then popped the button of his slacks. His cock strained against the fabric, an eager outline that made your mouth water. When you pushed his pants down, the sight made you pause—he was perfect. Not too much, not too little—cut, well-groomed, thick and just the right length. A light trail of hair led up to a stomach carved with muscle, the kind earned by years of hard work, not vanity.

You wrapped your fingers around him, gave him a few slow pumps, marveling at the weight of him in your hand. When you ducked your head and pressed a kiss to the flushed tip, he hissed softly, hand threading into your hair. You licked him experimentally, kitten licks at first, savoring the velvet softness of his skin, the way he twitched at every flick of your tongue.

You took him into your mouth, slowly, a few shallow bobs that had him groaning low in his throat. His other hand gripped the back of the couch behind you as his hips twitched forward, but just when you began to settle into a rhythm, he gently but firmly pulled you back.

Jack crushed his mouth to yours, desperate and breathless, his hands cradling your face. "Not like that," he murmured, voice trembling against your lips. "I’m not coming anywhere but inside you. I want to feel you, every inch, every heartbeat." He drew back just enough to look at you, something raw and uncertain flickering in his eyes.

"If you're sure," he whispered, thumb stroking your cheek, "I want to take care of you. Let you shut everything else out—just feel me."

You nodded, breath catching. "I need you."

His breath shuddered out, the last thread of restraint snapping in his chest. With worship and heat in his eyes, Jack kissed you again—slower this time, deeper, as if trying to memorize the very shape of your mouth. Reaching over to the end table, you pulled out a condom wrapper and tore it open, your fingers trembling with anticipation.

With a breathless murmur of his name, you rolled it onto his length—slowly, deliberately—giving him a few teasing strokes first. His cock twitched in your hand, heavy and perfect, and your thumb brushed over the slick tip, spreading the pre-cum like a promise. Jack's breath caught, eyes dark as he watched you, jaw clenched with restraint, like you’d just lit a match in a room full of gasoline. 

He guided you down gently, his body pressing into yours, firm and certain, a grounding weight that promised not just desire, but devotion.

You moved first, hips sliding up and down in slow, deliberate strokes, and Jack almost exploded at how good you felt. Every part of him molded to you, surrounding you like safety and fire all at once. His hands cradled your face like something sacred, and the press of his chest against yours ignited sparks beneath your skin. You couldn't remember sex ever feeling like this—like your very soul was unraveling. It was almost a religious experience, divine and consuming, the way he fit with you, moved with you. It felt like surrender.

"Fuck." It punched out of Jack Abbot like a confession, like he’d been holding it in for months. You felt like pure velvet around him—tight, warm, impossibly soft, dragging him to the edge with every glide of your hips. His head tipped back for a moment, jaw clenched, trying to hold on. The sounds spilling from your lips—soft gasps, high whimpers, breathy moans—were branded into his memory already. God, he thought, if he could bottle them, he’d keep them forever. Hoard them. Pray to them for forgiveness. 

Your hands were grasping onto whatever they could—his shoulders, the cushions, the curve of his neck—anything to anchor yourself. When your nails dug into his back, Jack groaned low and deep, the sound vibrating against your skin like a warning and a reward. He definitely had a thing for rough, and that knowledge thrilled you.

You leaned in, breathless, and whispered praises against his ear—how good he felt, how perfect he was, how he filled you like no one else ever had.

"Please," you begged, voice shaking.

Jack groaned, the sound catching in his throat. "You’re everything I've ever dreamed of," he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours. "You feel like heaven."

Your nails raked down his back, and he hissed through clenched teeth, clearly loving it. "You take me so well," he murmured, lips brushing your temple, his hand smoothing along your spine. "So fucking good—perfect, you’re made for me."

"Jack—God, please—don’t stop," you whimpered, arching into him. His rhythm faltered for a heartbeat at your words, his grip on your waist tightening like a man barely holding on.

"Never," he whispered. "Gonna keep you like this. You're mine."

Each word wrapped around you like silk, the praise as intoxicating as the rhythm of his hips. You drank him in like water in a desert, letting it fill every hollow part of you until you were burning with it—consumed, adored, alive.

Jack shifted, pulling you with him, guiding you until your hands were braced against the couch and your body arched for him. The air thickened as he pressed behind you, one hand splaying over your lower back, the other skimming down to grip your hip firmly.

He slid back inside slowly, a groan torn from his throat at the new angle. "Fuck, look at you—" he breathed, eyes roaming over the arch of your spine, the flush of your skin.

Your breath caught at the intensity. He moved with purpose now, hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the dim light. His grip bruised in the best way, grounding you, guiding you, adoring you with every thrust.

Every movement lit you up, sending shocks through your body until you were keening, meeting him stroke for stroke. Jack leaned over you, one hand splaying across your lower back while the other slipped beneath to rub tight, teasing circles over your clit. The added pressure was too much, the timing of his thrusts too perfect. You were a whining mess, trembling and begging for release, the pleasure cresting like a tidal wave.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, his voice wrecked. "Let go for me. Give it to me."

You clawed at the cushions, barely able to hold yourself upright, your body burning at every point of contact. And when his teeth sank gently into your shoulder, scraping over sensitive skin and biting down with a growled praise, everything inside you shattered.

You came with a strangled cry, ears ringing, vision going white around the edges, the force of your orgasm crashing over you like fire and light. Jack held you steady, worshipful even now, as you pulsed around him—his voice in your ear, a low whisper of your name like a prayer he’d never stop saying. He pressed kisses down your shoulder blades, pausing to give you a break, his breath shaky with restraint.

Then, without a word, he gathered you into his arms, shifting you with care. He carried you up effortlessly, propping your legs over the edge of the couch so you were just hanging off, perfectly open for him. Nestled into the crook of your neck, Jack rocked into you with purpose, his thrusts slow but relentless, chasing his own release. Your hands wrapped protectively around his head, fingers stroking through his hair, grounding him.

"Are you going to fill me up?" you edged, voice breathless, lips brushing the shell of his ear. "Have me dripping for days so everyone knows who I belong to?"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he gasped.

That was it.

Jack shuddered, a low, desperate groan escaping him as he pressed himself deeper into you. He trembled, a broken moan tearing from his throat. His fingers clutched your thighs as he buried himself to the hilt, the sound of your voice—the permission, the trust—pushing him over the edge. His release surged through him, hips stuttering as he spilled into you, heart hammering as he held you close, breathless and undone. He collapsed gently against you, all tension melting as he pressed a kiss into your neck, lost in the aftershocks of something that felt like more than just pleasure.

A long moment passed before he pulled back just enough to look at you. His pupils were blown wide, the edges of his eyes glistening with overwhelmed want, cheeks flushed with effort and awe.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he murmured, cracking with disbelief. His gaze searched yours—earnest, sincere, undone. 

He leaned in again, kissing the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, as if he couldn't stop reassuring himself you were real. "You okay?" he asked softly, still breathing hard. "Was that too much?"

You smiled through the afterglow, brushing your fingertips over his jaw. "I've never felt anything like that. It was perfect."

Jack exhaled a shuddering breath of relief, then smiled too—soft and disbelieving, like he’d just found something sacred.

Later, after the two of you had cleaned up and slipped beneath the covers, the world slowed to a hush. Jack lay beside you, one arm tucked beneath your shoulders, the other lazily tracing shapes across your skin. Hearts, spirals, question marks—he wasn’t thinking, just moving, touching, grounding himself in your presence.

The silence between you was full—not empty—with comfort and understanding, the kind only found in someone who sees every scar and stays anyway.

Your body ached in the sweetest way, muscles languid and sated. You felt Jack’s chest rise and fall with slow, steady breaths against your back, the heat of his body a constant balm. You turned slightly to glance at him, catching the way his eyes fluttered closed, then opened again to meet yours.

"Stay with me?" you whispered, though it wasn’t really a question.

He leaned in, pressed a kiss to your temple. "Always."

Every quiet morning after that was a sort of miracle—waking tangled in his warmth, with the sun filtering through the curtains and the scent of coffee already brewing. Even the hardest days felt lighter, the sharp edges dulled by his steady presence, by the simple truth that he was yours, and you were his.

And in that stillness, that shared understanding, you knew: this was only the beginning.

[jackce]

I was commissioned by a mysterious person to work on 6 Prussia themed months 🖤🤍🖤 First is February was inspired by Valentines day ofc, but the main focus is Prussia's dissolution 😭 (That's a funeral flower arrangement, he's a prisoner after WW II and has just been informed of his fate) I wrote an small one shot in case you want to read it, it's Prussia's POV (English first / Español al final):

FEBRUARY

— The celebration is not on time, true, but you still have to look presentable.

I didn't ask what was so special about celebrating Valentine's Day on the 25th, in the Soviet Union they don't even celebrate that date, they said it's because it is a capitalist invention, but if you ask me, I think it's because they don't understand what love is.

Is not like I wasn't curious while they cut my hair the way it was when I arrived, while they shaved my beard and handed me a suit that could barely hide the kilos I've lost. But I learned the hard way not to open my mouth too much, something that I'm sure everyone who knows me would have wanted impossible. Ivan is miraculous, I suppose.

— You'll receive the visit you've been waiting for, see? I'm not as bad as you think — Still, Russia seemed eager to pique my curiosity.

"He's playing with me," I tried to convince myself. But when I mentioned it to Ukraine after she brought the first decent meal in years to my cell, she reacted with joy.

— It's your brother for sure!

She doesn't know, but even though my heart twisted with joy, the hope was painful.

But two years had passed already... And even though Russia had played me in other ways, it was the first time he tried too hard to make me look presentable, as if he wanted to cover up the dealings he's been having with me. "You're the only person who has a villain role and who he can vent to," Belarus had excused him once.

I tried not to think, but I still couldn't get rid of that bad habit. I was going to show myself to someone, that was for sure. But who? Maybe it wouldn't be one of us... Maybe just a politician, or even some errand boy. But... What if it was West?

Surely my brother had been asking about me all these years, if there's one thing he has, it's that he's tireless. I'm sure he hasn't given up, I'm sure this little meeting is the fruit of his efforts, just a glance to know that I'm fine, that despite the division of my territory, that every day I'm more just a name... I'm fine.

— I'm fine, West —I murmured to the broken mirror they lent me, joining the theater that Ivan wanted so much to present. Despite everything, I didn't want to worry Ludwig... I didn't want him to see me with pity.

— Let’s go. —Russia in person came for me, and for the first time in a long time I left my cell without chains or ties to hinder me.

He took me to a dining room where three places were set, my heart tortured me again when I confirmed that it was a visit.

Ivan asked me to sit down while he went to get the guest, he knows well that I no longer try to escape, besides, I don't want to escape, not now that I'll see...

— West... —I got up as soon as I heard the door open.

But it was just Russia, his victorious smile.

“I'm so sorry, it seems he's had other more important matters... But don't worry, he sent you a present.” He was hiding something behind his back, but I could see the flowers from there.

I managed not to make any expression, neither anger, nor shame, nor sadness, I wasn't going to give him the pleasure of knowing that his stab was accurate. Braginsky didn't wait for me to say anything and showed me the decoration of lilies and chrysanthemums. It was a wreath that followed the shape of a heart, a ribbon with my name crossed through the center...

I must have lost the ability to hide my emotions, because the smile of the man in front of me widened.

The funeral arrangement could only mean one thing...

... I'm not even a name anymore.

----

FEBRERO

— La celebración se atrasó un poco, sí, pero tienes que estar presentable. No pregunté qué tenía de especial celebrar San Valentín el 25. En la Unión Soviética ni siquiera celebran esa fecha, que por qué es un invento capitalista, pero si me lo preguntan creo que es por qué no entienden lo que es el amor. No era que no sintiera curiosidad mientras me cortaban el cabello a la manera en que lo tenía cuando llegué, mientras rasuraban mi barba y me entregaban un traje que poco podría disimular los kilos que he perdido. Pero aprendí por las malas a no abrir demasiado la boca, algo que seguro todos los que me conocen habrían creído imposible. Iván es milagroso, supongo. — Recibirás la visita que tanto esperabas ¿Ves? No soy tan malo como crees — Aun así Rusia parecía ansioso por pescar mi curiosidad. "Está jugando conmigo" intenté convencerme. Pero cuando se lo mencioné a Ucrania luego de que trajera a mi celda la primer comida decente en años, ella reaccionó con felicidad. — ¡Seguro que es tu hermano! Ella no lo sabe, pero aunque mi corazón se retorció por alegría, la esperanza fue dolorosa. Pero habían pasado ya dos años... Y aunque Rusia había jugado conmigo de otras formas, era la primera vez que se esforzaba demasiado por qué yo me viera presentable, como si quisiera tapar los tratos que ha estado teniendo conmigo. "Eres la única persona que tiene un papel de villano y con quién puede desahogarse", lo había excusado Bielorrusia una vez. Intenté no pensar, pero aún no lograba quitarme esa mala costumbre. Iba a mostrarme ante alguien, eso era seguro ¿Pero quién? Tal vez no fuera con uno de nosotros... Tal vez solo un político, o incluso algún recadero. Pero... ¿Y si si era West? Seguro que mi hermano había estado preguntando por mi todos estos años, si algo tiene él es que es incansable. Seguro que no se ha rendido, seguro que está pequeña reunión es fruto de sus esfuerzos, solo un vistazo para saber que estoy bien, que a pesar de la repartición de mi territorio, que cada día soy más sólo un nombre ... Estoy bien. — Estoy bien, West —Le murmuré al espejo roto que me prestaron, uniéndome al teatro que Iván tanto quería presentar. A pesar de todo, no quería preocupar a Ludwig... No quería que me viera con lastima. — Andando —Rusia en persona vino por mi, y por primera vez en mucho tiempo salí de mi celda sin cadenas o ataduras que me entorpecieran. Me llevó hasta un comedor donde estaban puestos tres lugares, mi corazón volvió a torturarme al confirmar que se trataba de una visita. Ivan me pidió que me sentara en lo que iba por el invitado, sabe bien que ya no intento escapar, además, no quiero escapar, no ahora que veré a... — West... —Me levanté en cuanto escuché que la puerta se abría. Pero solo era Rusia, su sonrisa victoriosa. — Lo siento mucho, parece que ha tenido otros asuntos más importantes ... Pero no te preocupes, te mando un regalo —Escondía algo tras su espalda, pero podía ver las flores desde allí. Conseguí no hacer ninguna expresión, ni rabia, ni vergüenza, ni tristeza, no iba a darle el gusto de saber que su puñal fue certero. Braginski no espero a que dijera nada y me mostró el adorno de lirios y crisantemos. Era una corona de flores que seguía la forma de un corazón, un listón con mi nombre atravesado al centro... Debí haber perdido la habilidad para ocultar mis emociones, por qué la sonrisa del hombre frente a mi se amplió. El arreglo fúnebre solo podía significar una cosa... ... Ya no soy ni siquiera un nombre.

[sofa-king-lame]

It's Freaking Me Out That You're Not Freaking Out

Guys, ADHD meds are fucking life changing. I'm 1k into writing my next big fic (already titled Wake Up, Sunshine. Secret musician Eddie 👀) AND while listening to All Time Low to get more inspo for songs for THAT fic I was inspired to write this drabble after hearing the lyric the fic is titled after. This fic ignores 8x15 lol. Did not happen here.

Inspired by the song 'Calm Down' by All Time Low

Also on ao3 right here

--

It was the fourth beer, Buck decides, that’s to blame for this. The dishwasher is running, a little louder and clunkier than it should (a problem for tomorrow). The non-dishwasher safe dishes as drying on the rack next to the sink, Eddie claiming they can air dry overnight. Christopher is asleep, and Buck is now three and a half beers deep. Eddie and Chris been home for two weeks, and as happy as Buck is to have them back he also feels like he’s losing his mind a little. He keeps catching Eddie looking at him, soft glances and warm smiles that Buck doesn’t know what to do with. So he keeps himself busy. He thinks he’s deep cleaned the bathroom five times in the last week alone, every cushion cover and sheet set in the house has been soaked and washed, and the fridge and freezer are full of enough meals to feed the three of them for at least a month.

“I think it’s clean now,” Eddie tells him quietly, tilting his head to the side as Buck wipes the counter down for the third time.

“Right,” Buck huffs. “Yeah.”

“You okay? You’ve been weird lately,” Eddie muses, taking a step towards him. Buck has to consciously not back up because he’s never done that when Eddie is near him and apparently Eddie has already picked up on his anxious energy.

“Y-yeah, I just,” Buck sighs, gulping down the rest of his beer to try to find the right words to say. He doesn’t find them at the bottom of the bottle, but what he does find is the courage to be a total fucking idiot. He puts his empty bottle down and closes the remaining distance between him and Eddie, grabbing his face with both hands and drawing him into a kiss that blasts past the platonic line they’ve been toeing in their friendship from day one.

“Mmph,” is Eddie’s muffled response, his hands flailing a little before landing on Buck’s hips as he sighs into the kiss. A particularly concerning thunk from the dishwasher startles Buck out of his stupor and he jerks back, eyes wide and fingers on his lips. What the fuck did he just do?

“Oh god,” he whispers, “oh fuck Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“Buck,” Eddie chuckles, “it’s -”

“Oh fuck, fuck, Eddie -”

“Buck,” Eddie interrupts, but Buck can barely hear him over the rushing in his head. His hands are shaking and his heart is beating alarmingly fast, and Eddie - is totally calm.

“You’re not freaking out,” Buck says, gasping to catch his breath.

“Nope,” Eddie replies, totally calm. Why is he so calm.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Buck asks hysterically. “It’s freaking me out that you’re not freaking out!”

“Well,” Eddie hums, hands finding their place on Buck’s hips again. “I’ve been trying to build up the confidence to do that since I got home. So thank you for taking that off my plate. You’re good at that, you know.”

“Good at - kissing you?” Buck breathes, his shaking slowing to a tremor.

“No - well, yes,” Eddie snorts. “That, yes. But I meant you’re good at figuring out what I need before I even know what I need. So, thank you.”

“Oh. Uh. You’re welcome?” Buck offers uncertainly. “Wait, h-hang on. Did you just say you’ve been wanting to do that since you got home?”

“No, I said I’ve been trying to find the confidence to do it since I got home,” Eddie corrects gently, leaning in to press their foreheads together. Buck glances down and sees that Eddie’s up on his toes a little, and he’s not sure why it’s that visual that does it for him but it is. Buck leans in and kisses him again, which is difficult because Eddie won’t stop smiling.

“So, uh. H-how long have you been wanting to do that?” Buck questions when they break for air.

“Consciously? Since I drove away from you with that fucking U-Haul,” Eddie admits. “Subconsciously? Years, probably.”

“Oh,” Buck replies faintly. “Okay. Uh. Same for me, actually.”

“We always did have a freaky codependency thing going on,” Eddie laughs, brushing their noses together. “Wanna keep it up for the rest of our lives?”

“Fuck yeah,” Buck enthuses, unable to keep his lips off Eddie as they make their way to the bedroom. It was the fourth beer, Buck decides, that’s to thank for this.

--

Tags under the cut. As usual, if you'd like to be added to or removed from my tag list please let me know.

@playinginthunderstorms @inbucksbusiness @elvensorceress @singitforthegirls @sonofatoasterwaffle  

@wrongfulruffian @crose84 @carolinahope @heartsfromeden @shealwaysreads  

@lookforanewangle @eddiedisasterdiaz @my-brain-soup @mari-lwyd-crytid-blog @mattsire   

@oddgreyhound @namesnamesandmorenames @a--a---a @diazpatcher @sassay-fox��@sazanahashi

@aphantasias 

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Nowhere Land: Part 2

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: A handsome stranger comes into your workplace and makes you rethink your life choices.

A/N: Sebastian Stan, the man that you are…

Part 1 | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Bucky had seemed like a figment of your imagination. You knew him for less than a day, but he held a lasting impact on you. Every time an unfamiliar car drove past the diner, you thought it was him.

You scolded yourself every time because why are you letting a man, a practical stranger, get you all riled up?

You did your best to push any thought of him to the back of your mind. You found new distractions hobbies to keep your mind focused on other things. You took up crocheting and embroidery, thanks to a group of women who had their Crafting Club meeting every Sunday at the diner after church.

You'd serve them breakfast and coffee and listen in on any drama and gossip they were exchanging when it was slow.

They had been trying to teach you crochet for months, but you weren't very interested. Now with a certain blue eyed brunette plaguing your mind, you finally took them up on their offer.

It's quite fun, actually. Keeping count and focusing on the pattern occupied your mind instead of a certain someone.

It'd been three months since Bucky came and went through the small town.

And you were slowly forgetting about him.

______________________

It was nearing midnight when there was a knock at the door. You were already on high alert considering that you were up late watching a true crime documentary that Adell recommended to you.

You grabbed the bat you always have near the door as well as the little knife you have attached to your keys.

You look through the peephole and see a man's back facing you.

"You better get the fuck away from my door or I'm calling the police!" you holler through your door and the man immediately turns around.

It's unmistakable. Even with the dim lighting of your front porch, you know it's him. It's Bucky and he doesn't look so good.

"Shit," you mumble to yourself and immediately pull your door open, "What the hell happened to you?!" you whisper-yell as you pull him inside your home, hoping none of your neighbors saw him and called the police.

Now, standing in your home, you get a better look at him. He looks a lot more disheveled than when you first saw him in the diner.

He's wearing a black t-shirt and leather jacket. His face is littered with cuts and bruises. His tshirt is ripped in a few places.

You look at him in disbelief, "Dude, did you get jumped? Also, why are you here and do you know how late it is?" You place your hands on your hips giving him a stern look, reminiscent of an annoyed mother.

Bucky clears his throat, "To answer your first question, I was in a fight. To answer your second question, you were on the way from another job and for the third, I know. I know it's late and I'm sorry but the motel said they're full because-"

"Of the Strawberry Festival. Yeah." You let out a deep breath, "Was the fight you got into...work related?"

"The less you know about what I do the better."

"So it definitely doesn't have to do with you kicking butt alongside Captain America or anything?"

Bucky cocks a brow, silently questioning you. You shrug, "Listen, I wasn't going to but curiosity got the best of me. I didn't know your last name so I just searched up 'Bucky' and 'Captain America' and I saw a bunch of articles and went down a rabbit hole. So yeah. I know who you are and what you do...kind of. Also, how did you manage to only serve less than half a term in Congress?"

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose and groans, "It's a long story and it's fine. I don't really blame you for searching me up. Anyway, all this," he gestures to his cut up face, "is due to work like that. Anyway, I'm really tired and kind of in pain. I know I showed up unannounced but I'd really appreciate it if you'd help me out."

"Yeah, alright," you say and turn on your heel. As you head to your bedroom you holler, "Take a seat on the couch! I'll grab some supplies!"

When you enter your bedroom, you grab an old sleep shirt you're hoping will fit Bucky. You then go to your bathroom and pull out your first aid kit from under your sink.

"It's fine. It's chill. Just the guy you've been thinking about for months is back and asking for your help and he's also kind of an Avenger and probably was just beating up bad guys prior to-"

"Serpents," Bucky's sudden appearance made you jump, causing you to drop some of the supplies you were pulling out.

You begin picking up band-aids and gauze when you ask, "Serpents? You were fighting snakes?"

Bucky kneels to help you, a smirk on his lips, "No. I was fighting the group Serpent. A criminal organization. I was fighting them, specifically." He hands you the band-aids he picked up.

"Thought that stuff was classified."

"You gonna tell anyone?"

You shake your head, "Then I'm fine. I also didn't want you imagining that I was fighting aliens or something. That was a one time thing...hopefully." He helps you stand.

You take note of how close he's standing and you find yourself wanting him to wrap his arms around you, pulling you in and-

"I can clean myself up," he says breaking your little fantasy in the making.

"Oh, uh, okay," you set the items onto the bathroom counter, "You hungry? I have some leftover pizza I can heat up for you."

"I'd appreciate it."

"Beer?"

"Please."

"Got it," you squeeze past him in the doorway and rush to your kitchen.

When you're in the kitchen, heating up the leftover pizza, you feel very...nervous. For months you've been hoping to see Bucky again, but now that he's here...what the fuck do you even do? Obviously, you're going to help him, but what do you say?

Do you tell him that you've been thinking about him since that night at the bar? Or is that too weird?

"Thanks for the shirt," Bucky says as he enters your small kitchen.

You look over your shoulder and give him a nod, "Of course," you plate the pizza and hold it out for him.

He takes it and sits at your small kitchen table, taking a swig from the beer you opened for him.

You lean against the counter, arms crossed over your chest, "Sooo how long are you in town for?" You wait as he chews his food.

Bucky clears his throat and washes down his food with more beer. There's a look in his eye and you're not sure what it is, "I, uh, actually need to lay low for a bit, so thought I'd stay in town for a few days."

"Where do you plan on staying?"

Bucky sighs and runs his metal hand through his hair, "Was hoping someone would be leaving tomorrow so I can check in at the motel."

You can't help but snort, "Yeah, no. That's not happening. People tend to stay for several days for the Strawberry Festival. We have a new event every day, so people don't want to miss out."

"I'll just sleep in my car then."

You shake your head, "Bucky, you can stay here for the time being."

"I don't want to impose more than I already have."

"Too late," you say with a playful smirk, "Seriously, it's fine. I'm happy to help. Besides, you're helping me by bringing a little excitement to my life."

Bucky softly smiles at you, "I thought you didn't care for excitement anymore."

"Never said that. Just didn't like the busy life that the city gave me. It's chill and laid back here, but I could use something more than town gossip to keep me on my toes."

He chuckles, "Well, I guess I'll be happy to be of service. But, uh-" he looks around your place, "You don't have a partner or anyone that will be upset about me being here?"

You shake your head, "Nope. Just me, myself, and I. Also, you can take my bed. My couch is a pullout, but not as comfy."

"You don't have to do that. I can-"

"No, arguments. I can't in good conscience let a hundred something year old man like yourself sleep on that couch."

With a smirk on his lips, Bucky narrows his eyes at you, "Exactly how much research did you do on me?"

You make a motion to zip your lips and you leave the kitchen, leaving him to laugh to himself.

[vivalas-vega]

fine line / part four

ok last one for the night !! again, so sorry to my followers that don't care about the mcu, very sorry for spamming your dash :( don't know for sure when the next part will be coming but I'm actively working on it!! enjoy and please please please let me know what you think!

fine line / mcu x reader / part four

part one / part two / part three

summary: Three kids from Brooklyn. A war that asks too much. And a woman with secrets stitched into every seam.

to be tagged in future works, please turn on post notifications for @vegaslibrary

word count: 2.8k

warnings: (not specific to this part, but for the series as a whole. this fic is 18+, you are responsible for your own media consumption). language, angst, drinking, smut, violence, references (and descriptions) of bucky's abuse within hydra, canon-typical situations - this is the mcu y'all, shit will get a little crazy, and a little devastating

Early 1945

You got the assignment in a burned-out church in northern Italy. The message came folded into the binding of a field manual, passed through five hands and two borders to reach you. The words were sparse, the tone unmistakable:

Extraction required. Austrian alps. High priority, dangerous terrain. Low probability of return. You’re the only one close enough to make the drop.

You’d accepted without hesitation, but before you moved you sent a message of your own. Not to command, not to any handler… to a name you hadn’t spoken aloud in months, and you knew it wouldn't arrive before you did.

It took three days to track them down; a whisper in a tavern, a smudged map pinned to a wall, a soldier who recognized your eyes and lied to his captain so you could pass… but you did find them, just after dusk, in a makeshift camp nestled in the dense woods near the border. Fires burned low, tents were pitched with weary hands, mud clung to everything and the air was heavy with smoke and frost.

You stood in the tree line, half-shadow, watching. Steve looked nothing like the boy you’d left behind. He moved differently– taller, stronger, but somehow still Steve. He laughed at something Bucky said and the sound carried like it belonged in another life. And Bucky… he looked older, not in the lines of his face but in the way he held himself. The war had soaked into his bones and left its mark and it was then that you finally stepped out of the woods.

It didn’t take long for Steve to see you, Bucky preoccupied with something in his tent. He was halfway to you before anyone even registered movement, his face shifting from disbelief to something softer, something a little broken. “Button?” 

You smiled, small and tired. “Took you long enough,” you said, just above a whisper. He caught you in a hug that lifted you off the ground and for the first time in years, you let yourself melt into something comforting… grounding. “You look good,” you said as he set you down carefully. “Huge. But good.”

“You look… thinner,” he said, cautiously, concerned.

“I haven’t been eating much sausage,” you replied, lips twitching and he shook his head despite his grin. You heard a rustling from behind him and peered around his large frame to meet the eyes you so desperately needed to see… and he stood there in quiet shock, unable to move, questioning his grip on reality.

“Hey, Sarge,” you said, breaking through and he let out a sharp exhale. You could see the weight drop from his shoulders. He was on you so quickly you hadn’t even processed the first step he’d taken and you felt emotion immediately swell in every inch of you as the arms you called home cradled you so closely, so tightly.

“You never write,” he murmured into your hair.

“You never wait,” you teased as he pulled back to hold your face in his palms, touch so featherlight it seemed he was scared he’d break you. Looking at you now, he wasn’t sure he could hold on to you. He pulled you right back in, hand cradling the back of your head as he tried to feel every inch of you pressed against him. You were here, you were real and breathing in his arms. 

Finally, he whispered, “I thought you were dead.” You pulled back, just enough to look at him, not far enough to separate your bodies.

“I was, for a little while.” His eyes flickered over your face, noticing all the little differences. Your sharper cheekbones, a scar above your brow you didn’t have before, the way you carried yourself now, like a blade drawn halfway.

“You’ve been in deep,” he stated and you nodded. “Too deep?”

You almost smiled, “depends on who you ask.”

He didn’t. He just cupped your jaw like you might slip from his fingers, he wasn’t entirely sure you wouldn’t, and ran a thumb along that sharper cheekbone. “You’re meaner.”

“And you’re dirty and bleeding.”

He looked down at a scrape on his knuckle and huffed a laugh, “so, really not much has changed.” Steve had watched from the side for a moment, he needed to see the two of you like this as much as the two of you needed to feel it. Three kids from Brooklyn, brought back together through blood and secrets, somehow surviving it all… and then he slipped away while the two of you slipped into his tent, knowing you needed more than you could have in the middle of camp.

Bucky didn’t say a word as he lit the lamp low and shrugged off his coat, unfastened his boots. You watched in silence, trying to convince yourself this was back then. The routine was the same, the setting was not. You crossed the space and kissed him like it was the first and last time all at once. Slow, aching, deliberate… then quick, fiery, desperate. His hands came to your waist and drew you in, and he felt your whole body shudder against the heat of him.

He peeled you back layer by layer, scraps of you littered around the tent, and pulled you onto a makeshift pad on the floor… not much by way of comfort but it didn’t matter. You didn’t need any more than this right now. You hadn’t stopped fighting, not for a single moment, since you’d left Brooklyn, and that fight was still in you right now, a habit you couldn’t seem to drop, not even here. Not even in his arms.

The need in your chest was bubbling and overflowing and it made your movements sharp, and a little frantic, but Bucky cut through it all. He grabbed your hands and pinned them on either side of your head, and gave you a steady look before dipping down to kiss the soft skin of your neck. He took his time, not leaving even an inch of your skin unmet, unloved by his lips, and with each gentle movement you slowed, you melted.

“There she is,” he muttered, sending a shiver up your spine, and while he still had your hands pinned you used your head to nudge him back up to you, to meet your gaze. You tilted just slightly, asking for something he’d never deny you, and he captured your lips again in slow, languid movements. Savoring you, because who knew when you would have each other like this again? 

He started to kiss down your body but you shook your head, pulling him back up to you, “I need you,” you whispered, completely broken and full of such longing it cracked his chest in two. Perhaps there wasn’t enough ceremony as there should have been, but it didn’t matter. When he pushed into you, you both exhaled in relief. Low and absent of any tension. Your legs wrapped around his hips, hands cradling his jaw like you were scared he’d leave, and you could feel tears stinging your eyes as you pulled him down for another kiss.

Pleasure bloomed in every fiber of your being, each slow drag and snap of his hips driving you towards something you wanted to stave off as long as you could. You didn’t want this to end… just like that night back in Brooklyn, you wanted to stay right here with Bucky, just like this, for the rest of your life. You hooked his leg, a new move you’d learned for much different situations, and flipped your bodies, your knees settling on either side of him as he looked up at you in awe.

His hands roamed every inch of you, committing each soft sigh and whimper to memory as he traced a set of bruises along your rib cage, and you leaned down to press your chest flush against his, hips rocking back and forth in a way that made it hard to think of anything but each other’s name. It felt like something of the old you was being put back together, while the new you was being ripped apart at the seams. 

You let out a gasp when he bucked his hips to meet yours, a new angle that made you slump against him, unable to do anything but take what he gave you. A hand threaded through your hair, gripping at the base and pulling, not sharply but enough to feel a dull, delicious ache. “Want to see you,” he muttered, and you nodded softly, the movement pulling tighter against your scalp and coaxing a moan from your lips. His head tilted at this, just slightly as he analyzed your reaction, the way you’d clenched against him and something flipped… and it wasn’t just you. 

“You’re not delicate anymore,” he hummed against your lips, hips snapping harder against yours and you tugged at the strands of his hair, just like he had with you.

“Never was,” you managed to get out but words were lost when he grabbed a leg and hooked it over his shoulder. Your nails raked along his skin as he took you, and you were never more content to submit to anything in your life. For just a brief moment you could pretend this was it. You were Bucky’s girl, and nothing more. You weren’t a spy, constantly on the move, on the run. You weren’t headed for a mission you may never come back from. For just a brief moment, you got what you always wished for. You and Bucky and a bed, nothing else.

You unraveled when a hand rested on your throat, featherlight but steadying against the motion of your bodies, and he wasn’t far behind. You locked yourself around him, keeping his hips flush against yours as warmth coated your walls, not wanting to let go of any part of him, and he let his forehead rest against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Your hands softly traced every inch of him, moving from his back, to his chest, his shoulders, then his face. You held him against you, fingers splayed across his jaw, “I am so in love with you I think I’d throw it all away to run away into these woods right now, if you asked.”

He shifted the two of you slightly, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him, hooking your leg over his hip and not letting himself pull out of you… not just yet. He wanted to keep the two of you as close as possible, for as long as possible. “I’m so in love with you I’d say yes if you did,” he murmured, hand carding through your hair as he gazed down at you. “Are you asking?”

You took in a deep breath, “I don’t think I can.”

He nodded, “I don’t think I could mean it if I said yes.” You dragged the pad of your thumb across his lip and he kissed it softly, pulling a smile from you. “How long are you staying?”

“Until first light,” you answered and he sucked in a deep breath. It wasn’t enough, but it never would be.

“Where are you going?”

“North. Austria.”

“That’s deep,” he replied, pain evident in the way his voice stretched, like it was about to crack. “How dangerous?”

“I might not come back,” you said, deciding not to lie to him. Part of you wanted to, to give him hope that everything would be just fine, but you thought that was cruel… to not prepare him for that possibility. 

His grip on you tightened, “then stay.” he said. “We’ll find a place for you, a job that’s worthy of you. Frankly, we could use you here, Button.”

You smiled softly, “you don’t even know what it is I do,” you said, but he shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. We need it. We need you.”

“You know I can’t,” you said, pressing your forehead against his. “We all have jobs to do, Bucky.” 

“You’ll come find me when it’s all over?” he asked and you nodded, pressing your lips to his. Telling him everything you didn’t have enough words for, and when you felt him twitch inside you, you just pulled him closer, deeper, and let that be enough.

The camp was quiet as you moved through the shadows between tents, the kind of hush that felt like the world was holding its breath. Like it knew today was a big day. You thought this would be easier, leaving the same way you’d made him promise to back then, but it wasn’t. Each step felt like a betrayal, felt like a painful sludge through molasses, but you didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. If you’d seen the way he looked at you, not fully awake but eyes full of admiration, you wouldn’t have been able to do it at all. There was still a war to be won, and you played a part in that. You couldn’t abandon when it seemed you were so close, even if some part of you thought you deserved to be selfish now. You’d given enough, let someone else do the rest… but you couldn’t. You had to see it through.

Steve was already up, because of course he was. He sat near the dying fire, poking the embers with a stick and a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. He didn’t even look up when twigs cracked beneath your boots. He knew it was you, that’s why he was here. “You could’ve stayed long enough to let him wake up.”

You hesitated, then lowered yourself beside him, letting your bag hit the ground with a thud. “It hurts less this way.”

He nodded slowly, “that’s what Bucky thought, too. When he left you.”

You gave a dry laugh, no real humor in it. “We’re great at running away, the two of us.”

“Maybe,” he replied. “But not from each other.” That sat between you for a while, warm and honest. You reached for his mug and took a sip without asking, and he let you. He’d let you take anything he had to offer.

He didn’t press you for details, even though he wanted to. He just sat beside you and watched the sky shift from violet to gray, until finally, he said, “you gonna come back?”

You didn’t answer right away. “I want to.”

“That’s not the same as will.”

You looked down at your hands, “no. It’s not.”

Steve glanced towards the tent, “he’s gonna wake up and be furious.”

“I’m counting on it,” you said, trying not to smile. You turned to look at him, to really soak him in and without even thinking your hand trailed along his arm, feeling the expanse of muscle and you breathed a soft laugh. “It’s unbelievable.” you said. “Almost didn’t when I caught a photo of you in a newspaper. Thought someone pasted your face onto someone else.”

“Feels that way sometimes.” You let your hand fall but you found his instead, wrapping your fingers around it and pulling it into your lap. You clung to it like you would a life raft, and he gave you a soft squeeze, but you could still feel the strength beneath it.

“I knew I was right to believe in you,” you said softly. “You’ve made me prouder than I was back then… which is a lot.” 

“You always were,” he said with a slight chuckle. “And you always knew just what to say… When it felt like nothing made sense anymore I thought ‘Button believes in me, believes I can do this, and she’s always right’. Kept me going.”

“I’m scared,” you replied, more honest than you expected to be but Steve knew how to pull it out of you without even trying.

“I know,” he said, hand still firm in yours. “But I’ll be here when you get back, so will Buck.”

You smiled, barely. “So, that’s your job now? Waiting around for the people who run?”

He looked at you now, and his voice was quiet but sure. “No. But it’s what I choose.” Something about that made your chest ache, for just a moment. “Ten minutes before the whole camp’s up. Not enough, is it?”

You shook your head, not wanting to get up. Not just yet. Just like you had back on that tiny cot somewhere in Brooklyn, you turned and threw your arms around him, hugging him so tightly he could feel how strong you’d become since he last saw you. 

“I love you, Steve Rogers, you know that?” you asked, the words the exact same, but with a different kind of weight.

“I feel it no matter how far away you are,” he replied, slightly muffled by your hair. “I hope you feel it, too.”

You nodded against him, pulling away and cupping his face to press a soft kiss to his cheek, committing him to memory the way you had Bucky. “I’ll see you on the other side?” 

“See you on the other side.”

prev / next

[nicolewritesthings]

Lost Love - Part Three

a/n: sorry this took a minute! I’ve been deep in Joel Miller fanfic after the recent episode of tlou (biiiiiig Pedro fan). Anyways, please enjoy this next bit of writing :)

Steve Harrington x fem!reader, more angst

Summary: tis the damn season for you and Steve as you try to avoid the past while figuring out the future

———————

December 1991 - Hawkins

The Wheeler house looks straight out of a holiday catalog with its large tree lighting up the front room. Christmas music plays throughout the decorated house and a fire warms up the young guests.

Mike decided to have the gang back together at their parent's place this year. Most of the kids were home for the holidays and desperately needed to see each other after being at school all semester. After running into Dustin outside of your homes, he insisted you come. Nancy ended up calling you that night to extend the invite, explaining that she didn't even know about the party until she arrived that morning.

So there you were, dressed in your festive velvet red dress, sipping mulled wine with Nancy. She tells you about her job at a local newspaper and how she's making more connections at the Boston Globe, her dream company. You fill her in on getting into law school and your decision to move to Chicago. She's excited for you and easily dances around the subject of Steve.

It had been a couple of months since your break up with Peter and when he revealed to you that he and Steve had spoken. You did pick up the phone that night with the full intention of calling Steve. But you never did go through with it. You weren't thinking straight, your emotions were too high, and frankly, you were too scared to face him. So you set the phone down and swore to call him the next day, and the next, and the next. But you never called Steve. Instead, you let the situation sit there and simmer. No questions answered. Just like your relationship had always been with him.

As if the universe was reading your mind, the front door swings open, letting the cold December air in for just a moment. Your back was to the door, so you didn't see who came in. But you quickly started to gather who it was when Dustin cheered and rushed over to greet the guest. You straightened up a bit, building up the confidence to turn around and face the very person who's been tormenting your thoughts for the last couple of months.

His laugh hits your ears as he greets the kids with hugs. Your heart weakens a bit, loving that they all still care about him so much. You turn, wanting to catch the sweet moment.

As you turn around, Steve looks up, catching sight of your familiar hair and pretty red dress. You see each other from across the room, the lights around you softening as you hold his gaze. You feel a familiar tug towards him - something unseen, intangible but still there. He must feel it too because he's quick to give you a small smile. Steve wasn't sure what he'd do if he saw you tonight, but instinct took over with that smile. So you smile back. Two small, knowing smiles in a home filled with too many memories.

Then a young woman appears in the doorway behind Steve. She smiles wide at the kids and slips comfortably under Steve's arm. He breaks his gaze from you and puts all his attention on her.

Steve introduces her to Mike and Dustin, and she's all smiles as she meets everyone. You look away - at your shoes, the Christmas tree. Anything but Steve and this girl.

Luckily, Nancy clutches your arm, spinning you back around to face her. She leans in to whisper, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea he'd be here."

You pull back, shrugging, “it’s all good. Really.” Lie, lie, lie.

Your body practically ached at the sight of Steve and his - what? Girlfriend?

You wanted to peek back at them. See Steve's rosy cheeks and big smile as he paraded her around to meet everyone. Oh god, you thought, you're going to have to meet her too.

Nancy smiled tightly, her voice quick and low, "don't freak. They're coming over here." She waved as you felt two people approach you.

Nancy knew your history with Steve, even the most recent encounter. Somewhat ironically, she was the first to clock that something was going on between you two. After Jonathan moved to California, she and you became closer. Sometimes eating lunch together at school or working on college applications together. She noticed when he’d pick you up after classes got out almost every day or when he’d be at your soccer games, cheering you on alongside your family. She especially noticed when you had like three hickeys on the back of your neck the morning after you told her you were catching a movie with Steve.

Nancy noticed how he changed too, both as a person and his behavior towards her. He was lighter with her, not mopey or awkward. The tension completely dissipated.

Naturally, you and Nancy grew closer when you two were the only ones who moved away from Hawkins. She was there for you during the fallout with Steve, which was why she was shocked that you wanted to say hello to him and his girlfriend, Amanda, who Nancy just met about thirty minutes ago.

Steve's pulse quickened as you turned around to greet them. Your expression was collected, cool, and unreadable. Suddenly feeling vulnerable, he quickly scans the room for your boyfriend but comes up short. Nancy speaks up before he can think too hard about it.

She gives him a quick hug before introducing herself to Amanda who only says her name, waiting for Steve to fill in the rest. The three girls, including yourself, stare back at him. He cracks a smile, recovering from his brief falter, and then says the words you were dreading.

"My girlfriend," he's almost bashful, you think, as he wraps an arm around her.

Girlfriend. A word now seared into your brain, likely to cause inexplicable heart pain every time you hear it now. Girlfriend.

Nothing could have ever prepared you for this moment. You never imagined meeting one of Steve’s girlfriends. It’s not like you didn’t expect him to never date anyone after you, but you never imagined that this situation would be occurring. That was one of the pros of going no contact for so many years - no girlfriends.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” you say, shaking Amanda’s hand with an obligatory smile on your face. You tell her your name and she gives you a knowing smile, "Steve’s told me so much about you guys. It’s great to finally put a face to the name.”

You blink, trying to keep your smile from faltering. God, what has this man said to her about you?

You deliver the perfect cliche, “oh, all good things I hope," and shoot Steve a look, lofting your eyebrows just slightly. He doesn’t miss a beat, sending you the slightest of head nods.

Old habits never die, you think as you quickly fall back into the knowing looks with Steve. The subtle communication only you two could understand of each other.

Amanda laughs, “of course! He was just saying that you’re a lawyer. That’s so impressive.”

You turn back to her, shaking your head, “well, not yet. I just go into law school.”

You can feel Steve’s eyes on you and wonder if he’s thinking about your decision to move to Chicago.

“Are you staying in the city? Or looking elsewhere?” Amanda asks, genuine and annoyingly nice.

Nancy perks up, "she actually just committed to Northwestern."

Steve shifts his gaze to you. But you avoid his eyes, not wanting to see his expression. "Chicago!" Amanda exclaims, "that's so exciting. We'll have to show you around."

He knew that this was a real possibility. Hell, you were the one who told him you wanted to move. But hearing the confirmation was a whole different thing. This was real. You were about to be back in his life whether he liked it or not.

“That would be great,” you say, keeping your attention on her, “what about you? What do you do?”

And then she tells you about teaching and how they met. They’ve been seeing each other for a little over two months. Interesting you think, doing the mental math in your head. You ask about her childhood, family, where she grew up. Steve chimes in here and there, but you can feel the tension radiating off his body as he stands in between you and Amanda.

The night goes on and more of your friends arrive, quickly swapping stories about high school and your collective near-death experiences. You do enjoy yourself, wrapped up in the warm nostalgia of it all. But every time your eyes shift back to Steve and Amanda, an unreasonable bitterness nips at the back of your mind.

You had no right to be jealous, sure, but you could be a little bothered by the whole thing. It doesn't help that she's charming and friendly. Boo.

You’re in the kitchen now, stress-eating the finger foods off a platter on the counter, alone in your thoughts. Tonight would not be a good time to bring up the past with Steve, would it? But when would be a good time? When you're finally living in the same city again? No, it should be sooner. But what would he say?

“That cheese is great-“

You jump, startled by the sudden voice in the kitchen. You turn around and find Steve frowning, worried about your reaction.

He steps forward, “shit sorry. Thought you heard me walk in.”

“I guess I was a little distracted,” you say without really thinking.

Steve notices a hint of bitterness in your tone. You look up, finally meeting his eyes. Both of you pause, lingering in the moment, unsure of what to say next.

For the first time all evening, you two are finally alone together. Everyone else is in the living room playing games, including Amanda who is partnered up with Robin in a very competitive game of charades.

Steve steps to where you’re standing. You suck in a breath as the distance between you two grows smaller. He stands beside you and picks through the cheese platter, completely ignoring the tension in the room.

You want to roll your eyes at him, annoyed at how cavalier he could be during situations like this. So you decide to poke the bear a bit and not ignore the obvious.

“Your girlfriend’s cool,” you say, turning to face the counter like him, your shoulders brushing.

Steve pops a piece of cheese in his mouth letting the silence linger. He wasn’t sure where you were going with this, so he let you lead the way.

You weren’t going to lie to him. You did think Amanda was great and you were not about to be the type of girl to hate her for being with your…whatever Steve was to you.

“So you two met at school?” you ask, genuinely curious and purposefully dancing around the real question you wanted to ask - when did they meet?

Steve smiles, “she’s the first-grade teacher." Of course, she is.

He pauses, not sure if he should say anything but this would be a perfect time to segue into that night. And for whatever reason, Steve couldn’t help himself around you.

“Actually,” he looks at you now, “she was at the bar when I ran into you in September.”

Your whole body tenses. So we’re doing this now, huh?

You catch the cheeky glimmer in his eyes, remembering just how much of a dick Steve could be sometimes.

“You should have introduced us,” you reach for a piece of cheese, “maybe the night would have turned out differently.”

“Yeah maybe if you told me about your boyfriend we wouldn’t have been out all night,” Steve lets out quickly, his emotions getting the best of him.

Now you’re speechless. You never did figure out what you would say to Steve about that phone call. You naively thought you’d never see him again so you wouldn’t have to discuss it.

You drop the cheese and turn your body to face him. He stares down at you, the hint of cheekiness replaced with anger now. He hates that you’re the only one who can rile him up like this.

“I should have told you about Peter that night,” you concede, “I’m sorry.”

Steve falters, not expecting an apology. Before he can think of something to say, you continue, “I guess I was caught up in the moment. I don’t know.”

He looks away, pushing off the counter, “seeing you again was already a shock. But then to find out you had a boyfriend really fucked with me.”

Your stomach aches as Steve admits this all to you. As you finally talk about that night. He doesn’t want to do this now, not with all your friends and Amanda in the other room. But, as usual around you, he can’t control his emotions. The words just flow out of him.

“And finding out about him that way was pretty shitty too,” Steve shook his head, “I mean, hell, do you two live together?”

“We broke up,” you blurt out. The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

Steve shifts back, his hands brace the counter as you face him. He looks over your features as if trying to read your mind and you do the same.

You being single, Steve in a relationship - does it even matter? What would you do if you were both single? Steve practically answered that in Chicago when he didn’t know about your boyfriend and you asked him up to your room. And yet he still turned you down and you still had no idea what you wanted from him. So single, taken, it didn’t make a difference.

Before either of you can respond, Robin rushes into the kitchen. She notices the moment between you two but doesn’t think twice to acknowledge it. She loves Steve and wants what’s best for him, and what’s best is Amanda, his girlfriend who’s currently waiting for him in the other room.

Robin yanks Steve’s arm, “I’m tapping out and Amanda’s looking for a new partner.”

Steve holds your gaze for just a moment before shifting his attitude ever so slightly. He smiles at Robin then nods at you, before turning into the living room.

You turn back to the counter, pick up the discarded piece of cheese, and pop it into your mouth. A tense gaze hits you. You turn slightly to catch Robin eyeing you narrowly.

“What’s up, Buckley?” You say casually. Your relationship with Robin has always been this way. Close at times but a one-sided skepticism was always apparent. Then of course when everything ended between you and Steve, you hardly ever spoke to Robin.

She steps closer, “are you really moving to Chicago?” She clocks your surprised reaction.

“Nancy mentioned it,” she clarifies.

You nod, “not until summer.”

Robin sighs, “I’m not going to pretend like I know what the fuck is up with you and Steve, but I do know that he’s happy. Like really doing well and doesn’t need any bullshit in his life - happy.”

“I know,” you say honestly, “I don’t plan on screwing anything up for him.”

Robin wants to tell you that actually, you don’t know. You have no idea what kind of hold you have over Steve. She wants to tell you how messed up he was after seeing you and how you totally derailed his life and can definitely do it again. That’s what she’s worried about. But instead, she saves face.

“Good,” Robin crosses her arms.

You think about what it will look like to live near Steve again and you don’t know why you continue the conversation and say, “we probably won’t see each other much anyway.”

Robin practically scoffs as you say this. She shakes her head, “this is you and Steve we’re talking about. At the very least, he’ll want to be your friend.”

You don’t know what else to say so you nod, thinking about everything. You hoped you could be friends with Steve, but you never were ever just friends with him. There had always been that hint of what if? That possibility of something more.

Laughter and shouts break your thoughts. Dustin’s calling your name to join on the next round. So you push it all aside and follow Robin back into the room with all your friends, and you decide to enjoy being home for the holidays.

———————

A few days later

As the town gears up for the New Year, you help your dad clean up the garage. Your family loves to do a big cleanout before the new year. Help clear out the old and bring in the new.

The manual labor was a much-needed distraction from your mind swirling with thoughts about your future and Steve, and his really cool totally awesome girlfriend. Spending time with your family was also a reminder of other forms of love in your life. You were excited to be closer to them again.

You and your dad stand hunched over the engine of his 1964 silver Mustang. You were helping him fix up something under the hood when the sound of footsteps hit the pavement.

Your dad was the first to see who it was. He steps away from the car, “Steve! Been a long time, bud.”

You brace yourself on the side of the car, pushing off of it to face them.

Your dad and Steve break away from their friendly hug. What the hell is going on?

Steve nods, “I know, I’m sorry! With Dustin moving away for school, there’s not much left for me in Hawkins these days.”

“Did you hear our girl’s moving to Chicago?” Your dad says proudly.

Steve flashes you a smile, taking in your dirty jeans and worn-in sweatshirt. You smile back, raising your eyebrows a bit at him entertaining your dad.

“Yeah, it’ll be great to be in the same city again,” Steve says as you approach the two of them.

You nod, “don’t worry. I won’t bother you too much, Steve.”

He gazes at you, trying to search for another meaning in your sentence. Bother me all you want, Steve wants to say.

The garage door opens. Your mom has the phone in her hand, the cord extended all the way. She spots Steve and smiles, “oh, hi honey! How are you?”

Steve waves, greeting your mom. She calls over your dad, “your sister’s on the line.”

He bids Steve goodbye and rushes into the house after your mom.

You chuckle, wiping your greasy hands on the rag poking out of your jeans. You look up at Steve, “they always ask about you.”

“Oh yeah?” he beams.

You nod, “it’s sweet.”

You turn to the car, walking towards it. Steve watches as your hair sits high in a ponytail, swishing back and forth as you walk. He always liked when you put your hair up.

He follows you to your spot under the hood. Steve eyes the car, “how long have you been working on this?”

“Pretty much all day,” you say, “you know how my dad can get with his cars.”

He smiles, remembering when your dad got you your first car - a used Chevy truck that was cool in theory but broke down on you every other month. You resorted to catching a ride with Steve instead.

Steve helps as you slam the hood shut. You turn to him, “so, what’s up?”

He had almost forgotten why he was there in the first place. Steve puts his hands on his hips.

“When do you move?” He asks.

You nod, “in June. Thought I’d get a head start on apartment hunting near campus.”

Steve looks around, finally coming to peace with your response. He eyes the sun as it begins to set. The birds chirp around you. He nods over to the street, “let’s take a walk.”

You eye him, but ultimately agree, following him down your driveway and into your quiet neighborhood.

Walking these streets with Steve brought back some serious nostalgia. You used to do this all the time. His house only a few blocks away from yours. He’d walk you back to your house at night when it was too dark and you had school the next morning. Or on Saturday mornings, you’d walk to his place and eat breakfast because his parents were already out for the day.

Now the two of you walked side by side, leisurely taking in the old pine trees and suburban homes. Steve straightened his back, clapping his hands together as if prepping himself for what he was about to say.

“I think we should air everything out. You know, before we live in the same place again,” he states.

You shove your hands in your back pockets, what did you have in mind?”

He tilts his head, “well, I’m with Amanda now and everything’s going pretty good.”

You nod as he continues, “and I didn’t tell her about us. You know, our past.

“Oh,” you hesitate. That was a little surprising, but given how nice she was to you, it tracks.

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Steve says slowly, “I mean, I didn’t really think we’d be in each other’s lives again.”

You look over at Steve, “it’s up to you. But I’m sure it won’t come up in conversation.”

He chuckles, “right. Well, how often do you want to see each other?”

You blink, all the time, preferably. If he’d have you.

“You could show me around? Then we’ll go from there?” You say sheepishly. He and Robin are the only people you really know there, and you don’t think Robin would be the most excited to hang out with you.

Steve smiles, “yeah, yes of course!” He runs a hand through his hair, “sorry. I’m not really sure how to handle all this with you.”

You decide to lighten the mood and bump his shoulder, “neither do I. But, I do know I want to be back in your life.”

He takes in your words and smiles, “me too. Someone you know again.”

You look down, hearing Steve say your words from that night back to you. It feels different this time. Like you’ve got the “what if?” out of the way and can maybe begin to move onto a new part of your relationship - just friendship.

You continue, “and if you’re worried about Amanda, I won’t mess anything up. I promise.”

“Don’t be weird,” Steve eyes you, playfulness in his voice.

You shake your head, “I swear. I’ll be on my best behavior. No weirdness here.”

He knocks his shoulder back against yours. You stumble a bit, taken off guard. Steve reaches out, grabbing your arm to steady you.

You laugh, “easy, Harrington. I get the message loud and clear. No need for intimidation tactics.”

“Funny, really hilarious,” he says, sarcasm dripping off his tone.

You proceed, feeling good, “honestly Amanda is really cool. Like way cooler than you.”

“Oh yeah? Hang out with her then,” he laughs.

“Maybe I will,” you smirk, “what’s her number?”

Steve reaches out and lightly tugs the end of your ponytail out of instinct. You groan, shoving his hands away from you. He puts his hands up in surrender, scurrying up the street a bit.

You laugh, jogging up the street to catch up to him. This shouldn’t be too hard, you think. You’ll be busy with school and he’s got his whole life to focus on. Maybe being friends with Steve Harrington will be easier than you think!

—————

a/n: ahhhhhhhhhhh just friends! What could go wrong! I’m not sure how long this little series will go. But if you’re still interested, I’m already working on the next part :)

tags: @httpazxnth @wwylmlive @xaimary @dogstarbytes @micheledawn1975 @ortega29 @djodirt @ahead-fullofdreams

[synity]

All My Tomorrows Were Yours

bestfriend!Hoshi x femReader

-Angst, Slow Burn, Emotional Drama, bittersweet, romance-

For two years, Hoshi loved you in silence.

Not a light, fleeting love — but the heavy kind. The kind that settled deep in his bones. The kind that made breathing feel both easier and harder whenever you were near.

You didn’t see it. You couldn’t. To you, he was your sunshine your best friend who cheered you on, teased you, pampered you without reason. It was just Hoshi being Hoshi.

You didn’t notice how he always lingered a second longer when you hugged him. Or how his jokes were always gentler with you than with anyone else. Or how he always, always prioritized you, no matter what he had to cancel, move, or sacrifice.

You didn’t see it and he never told you.

Because he was scared.

If he said the words out loud, he might lose you altogether. And losing you, even as just a friend, was unthinkable.

So he stayed. Quiet. Loyal. Loving you through a thousand small acts you never recognized for what they truly were.

That night was supposed to be special.

He had made reservations at the cozy little restaurant you once pointed at, months ago, when you thought no one was listening. You had said you’d "kill to eat there someday." He waited three months to snag a table.

He bought you flowers your favorite, carefully chosen.

He even wore the shirt you once said made him "look like a prince."

Tonight, he thought, maybe tonight she’ll see me.

Maybe tonight I’ll finally be enough.

But the call came.

You were breathless, distracted. "I'm so sorry, Hosh, I can't make it," you said, barely hearing the crack in his voice. "Work’s insane. Plus, there's this new guy... super sweet... he's been helping me a lot lately, so my boss wants me to work late with him."

New guy. Sweet. Helping you.

Hoshi’s heart plummeted into his stomach.

He said it was okay. He said not to worry. He said he understood.

And then he sat alone at that table for an hour anyway just in case you changed your mind.

You didn’t.

He walked home in the rain. No umbrella. No flowers.

You showed up at his apartment later, soaked and smiling, takeout bags swinging from your wrist.

You always looked so beautiful to him even when you were messy, tired, late.

Especially then.

“Hoshiiii!” you called out, peeking around his living room.

He was standing by the window, back rigid, fists clenched.

Your smile faltered. Something was wrong.

"Hey..." you said softly. "I'm sorry again about tonight. I thought we could still have dinner here, you know? Like we always do?"

He didn’t move.

You stepped closer. "Hoshi?"

Finally, he turned.

His face the face that always melted into soft smiles for you was carved from stone now. His eyes were dark, glinting with something you’d never seen before: pain. Not the kind you fix with a joke or a hug. The kind you caused without even realizing it.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, voice low, breaking at the edges.

You blinked, confused, heart starting to hammer. "Get... what?"

He laughed bitterly a sound so unlike him, it made your stomach twist.

"Two years, Y/N," he whispered, stepping closer. "Two years of being there. Two years of loving you. Two years of holding my breath every time you smiled at someone else. Two years of waiting for you to just see me."

Tears stung your eyes. No. No, that couldn't be true. You would have known wouldn’t you?

"I watched you fall for guys who didn’t deserve you," he said, voice cracking. "I sat next to you while you cried over them. I fixed things when they broke you. I cheered you on when you chased dreams that didn’t include me."

Every word felt like a dagger to your chest.

"And you," he said, stepping even closer, "you never even looked at me the way I looked at you."

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out.

"I told myself it was enough," he whispered. "Just being near you. Just hearing your laugh. Just being the guy you called when you were sad or bored."

Tears spilled down your cheeks, hot and guilty.

"But it’s not enough anymore," he said. "I can’t pretend I’m happy you love everyone but me."

Silence suffocated the room.

"I love you," he said, a broken whisper. "I have loved you for so long it’s killing me."

You stood frozen drowning in the weight of his words.

And then something inside you cracked wide open.

Memories flooded back the countless times he showed up when no one else did. The way his eyes softened whenever he looked at you. The way you always, always felt safest with him, even though you never questioned why.

You had been so blind.

"I..." you tried, your voice trembling. "I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know, Hosh."

He smiled but it wasn’t happy. It was the saddest smile you’d ever seen.

"I know," he said softly.

You stumbled forward, reaching for him with shaking hands.

"But if I had known," you whispered, voice cracking under the weight of your own stupidity, "I would have never let you wait so long."

You pressed your forehead against his chest, sobbing quietly.

He froze for a heartbeat and then his arms wrapped around you, tight and trembling.

"I’m so sorry," you cried.

He just held you, rocking you slightly like he was afraid you'd disappear.

"I love you too," you whispered into his shirt. "I think... I always have. I just... I didn't realize it until it was almost too late."

He pulled back just enough to see your face, his own tear-streaked.

"Don’t say ‘too late,’" he murmured. "Please."

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands.

"It’s not too late," you said. "It’s just... late enough."

And then you kissed him.

It wasn’t perfect you were both crying, both shaking but it was real. It was desperate and tender and so full of two years of missed chances that it made your knees weak.

When you finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

"You're mine now," he said, voice thick with emotion. "No more waiting."

You smiled through your tears. "Only yours," you promised.

The End or The Beginning?

[khaoala]

If you have time & will to do it obviously, would you mind sharing some of your favorite fkt moments of 2024? Or any significant moments of them?

-me,the barely-3-months-into-the-fandom

oh jesus, i had to open my events tags tracker for this one and even then, i'm so 100% sure i forgot many amazing moments, but stay with me (needless to say that this is a long one right? i'm sorry, it's a very long one).

i'll start with first's favorite moment of 2024, if you'll let me actually. he said on his last event of 2024 [ #MelaxFirst ] that every moment was special, but especially the ones he was with khaotung, because those moments gave him courage to explore and discover himself more which felt amazing. i have no words for this actually, just let all of this sink for a moment. and it's not even about shipping or being dululu or anything. i'm talking about the trust and care they have for each other and you can see it from miles, i love love this moment.

but now we go back to the beginning of the year, otherwise i'll completely lose track of my thoughts. it feels like it happened a hundred years ago, but you guys, the event where khaotung was nominated for and they separated him not only from first but also earthmix was their first event of 2024 [ FirstKhaotung x 28thATA ]. and let me tell you anon, since you're a baby som, we have this running joke that fk can't be separated, and especially during events, they get even more attached, but since they split the party and left khaotung alone, during the whole ceremony, you'd see first (who was sitting in the first row) looking back at the direction where khaotung was all the time. they were on their phones the whole night and every time he could, khaotung would slip towards his little group. he didn't win, but first wrote, "it's okay, let's win many awards together, don't be sad" and khaotung replied saying that he wasn't the first one to cry.

their first fanmeeting in macau [ #FirstKhaotung1stFMinMacau ]. there's a moment when khaotung talks about how he calls first to talk about his worries and cries to him, and first adds that they are each other's best supporters and safe space for each other. these past few months, there are many people who have been trying to discredit their relationship by saying they are in their divorce era (just because they don't public post their interactions a lot like other artists do) which is insane to me, because these two are like family to each other, and they care deeply about what the other thinks and they are each others' support system. people have been spoiled by joong always giving us content that they forgot that them not posting much is their default.

their trip to rome was very memorable, and very special. it gave us a glimpse into the emfk polycule and i would be dishonest of me not to mention it here. it has some of the best pictures and interactions we've had the pleasure of seeing (look up the tag for their fm at #FirstKhaotung1stFMinRome because a lot of content is in there).

both lol fanfest days gave us amazing content [ FK x LOL2024Day1 FK x LOL2024Day2 ], from the songs they've performed to the words they've said to each other, and let's never forget let's try pirate!version that will be so so difficult to top this year, i'm so serious (day 2 left me unwell for days).

i gotta add emfk being menaces together during the wolverine screening too [ #SFxEMFKxDeadpoolWolverine ], bc listen, it was close to mix's birthday and khaotung gave the the idea to buy him a cake and in the end the one who had to order it was first, and first just picked the flavors he likes instead of catering to mix's taste while earth just observed the three cats being mischievous and laughing their asses off. these four are my everything.

whatever was happening during the international novel festival [ #งานมหกรรมนิยายนานาชาติ2024xFK ] we need it back. they were flirting left and right, first was shooting cupid arrows at khaotung, khaotung was whining bc a fan flirted with him and first went "why are you flirting with my boyfriend? x2", so sweet, so nice.

i know i talk about their birthday events constantly, but pls understand, they mean everything to me. for first's [ #FirstUniverseBDParty2024 ], he was so happy talking through his career and fans and he was crying but the moment khaotung showed up with the cake, boy smiled a smile that i don't even have words. and when khaotung left the stage saying he wanted first to have more time alone with his fans, first went "did you come just for that [bringing the cake]? you can stay longer" and during the messages too, khaotung said "stay with me nanana" like ray and first was holding back tears. first makes my heart really happy, he's such a sweet dude.

and during khaotung's birthday party [ #Khaotung26thBDParty ], we always have the pleasure of having khaotung's mom and sister in these, and let me tell you, she loves first like he's her own son. i think it was fanday 2023 when khaotung's mom attended and khaotung said she came to see first. but anyway!!! khaotung's birthday party. we were lucky enough that mix was also in the birthday event, bc he teamed up with the mc to tease them, and they teased poor first so much, because he was blushing a lot [ 1 2 ]. mix even wished fk to have each other forever which you know, coming from your married friend, means a lot in my eyes. this whole event makes me smile like a mad woman, pls check the tag and enjoy.

the busan saga of course [ ACAGOTT2024 x KHAOTUNG ], that i've talked about here.

thailand headlines person of the year awards [ FIRST KHAOTUNG x TLHL 2024 ] was also iconic, not only because they won an award together (it's a popularity award, and they won the most beloved duo) and khaotung had promised first they'd get an award and go up the stage together, but their vibes were just so nice that day. they were wearing matching lapel flowers with p'tha too which was hilarious to me (and also gave me firstkhao and milklove in the same frame).

the innisfree event [ #INNISFREExFirstKhaotung2024 ] and this one will be short, because despite having many many sweet moments, the one where first asks khaotung is he's good at pleading still lives in my heart.

honorable mentions:

the oned presscon with the cast of only friends was also very nice and it was purely because they were giving us firstkhao overflowing with husbands energy. and the pictures for this one were also so pretty [ oneDoriginalPressCon x FK ].

their valentine's day event was also pretty great [ #พาเฟิร์สข้าวตังมาเดอะมอลล์ ]. first was using khaotung's necklace here, and valentine day events are always nice for flirting.

the taro live stream was actually insane bc they were so giggly and happy and feeding each other and flirting, it was so great [ #TAROxFirstKhaotung ]

khaotung's cerave event [ #CeraVexKhaotung ] because he looked so pretty even though he was wearing a sweater under the midday sun and dripping sweat, so he's here for the effort.

whatever was happening during the skintific livestream [ #SkintificxFK ] they were being so sus, especially when khaotung just casually said, "we woke up together".

nivea's top spender event [ #NIVEALUMINOUSXFIRSTKHAOTUNG ] because husband 2.0 strikes again, especially in this picture like ???? and the cute aggression?

the gmm outing [ #GMMTVOuting2024 ] was also fun, they showed up a lot more than other years, but not so much to make us spoiled. we got possessive khaotung in 144p, and we've got one of my favorite fk pictures:

"you've been friends for a long time. when will you be lovers?"

[ MUSICONHK x KHAOTUNG ] was fantastic, and you might be saying, "but bibi, this is an event with only khaotung, it's not a fkt moment", that's where you're wrong because even though first didn't fly to hong kong this time and stayed in thailand to work out, and p'dorn showed us a picture of him working out while checking the fk tag. and we're almost sure, he was also using first's necklace, too.

firstkhao reacting to the trailer of the heart killers in front of basically the whole thai entertainment industry [ #iQIYIiJOYTH2025 ] (they were sitting right beside yinwar. lysm, englot and bounprem were some of the people who also attended and that's how we got this ywfk photo).

their chongqing fanmeets [ #First1stFSinChongqing #Khaotung1stFSinChongqing ] that happened in different days and they couldn't even interact bc china has terms of service and gmm is very strict about it, but they have us this:

the winter whispers event for the pure married vibes [ #TheWintersWhispersWithFirstKhaotung ].

starlympics where lightning cheetah lost every sport [ FIRSTKHAOTUNG x SLM2024 ] but firstkhao still served married moments by being menaces and serving cunt. that's when we got this picture, too:

first crying because he couldn't find khaotung the hat that he wanted for his birthday that i talk about here.

they went to a couple of concert dates this year, too, which was pretty fun for them and for us. [ 1 2 3 4 5 ]

there was also the boat trip they did with joong that i go on and on about here.

speaking of joong, the kiss incident that joong posted about during ciize's birthday party.

this whole thing when they were recording never back down, i assume.

and to end it all, they spent the new year together.

i know for a fact that i forgot things or left some out because this is ridiculously long, but i do hope you have a good time checking these out anon.

[angelicsoka]

RESCUE KODIAK ( yellowjackets )

SUMMARY it had been months since they had seen anyone from civilization, so when a group of researchers and their guide stumble upon the camp of the missing soccer team, the yellowjackets can't help but have mixed reactions. especially when it comes to the oddly attractive guide.

PAIRINGS kodiak x yellowjackets!fem!reader, platonic!yj characters x fem reader

WORD COUNT 3.4k (i got a little carried away)

WARNINGS AGE GAP!! the reader is 19! SMUT!! slight lottie slander (sorry pookie ily), shauna slander (I'm not that sorry lol). fighting and talk of blood and violence. slight season three spoilers. some characters may come off as a little ooc. not proofread. no uses of “y/n”. lowercase intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE i've lowk been in love with joel mchale for like 3 years now but him as kodiak sealed that love... also thank you all for 500 followers!! i apologize for not being active :((

“fuck! lottie, what did you do?” it had all happened so fast. one second, you were all sitting around the fire when three people appeared at the edge of camp and the next second, lottie was standing over the body of one of the two men after putting an axe into the back of his head.

“they don’t belong. it doesnt want them here.” you looked on in shock. it was your chance to finally go home and lottie killed one of them. the woman looked at the dead man, moving to him before the remaining man grabbed her arm, “run!” they took off, the rest of the yellowjackets wasting no time to pursue them. the man turned around, firing a bolt from a crossbow at melissa, striking her in the shoulder.

“holy fuck!” it was like an instinct for the others to chase the two outsiders. you stood there frozen with shock, unable to process what had just happened. shauna shouted something to mari and gen, probably telling them to help melissa. with wide eyes, you watched as lottie sat beside the dead man, rubbing his blood onto her face. you finally broke from your trance by shauna as she bumped into you as she went to join the chase. you moved to help mari and gen with melissa, feeling empty and numb, unsure of what was to come.

it was early in the morning when the woman was brought back to camp. she fascinated the group, all who were curious about the world outside of the wilderness. you on the other hand stayed away, not wanting to get your hopes up, not after what lottie did. instead, you chose to hide in your hut, away from the others. you were exhausted to say the least, which allowed sleep to come to you easily. 

you weren't sure how long you had slept but by the time nat had woken you up, travis and akilah were back with the male guide. “wake up, we’re going home!” any sleep that remained was gone at natalie’s words. 

“no shit?” you asked with bugged eyes. “no shit.” natalie confirmed with a grin, offering her hand to you. natalie led you out of your hut, walking you past the two outsiders and toward the crash site. you slowed as you passed the two, your eyes locked with the man as he held an almost shit eating grin. your eyes left his, reading the name on his camouflage shirt: kodiak. you filtered your eyes back toward natalie, ignoring the feeling of his gaze on your back. 

it didn't take long to pack, not with what little stuff they had and how happy they were to finally be able to go home. travis stood with kodiak and the woman, hannah, pointing the crossbow they had confinstated from kodiak. “alright, everybody, listen up!” natalie turned toward the two, aiming the rifle at them, “we are testing you to get us there safely. and i think you know that we will kill you if you try any stupid shit.” she pointed the gun from kodiak to hannah before ultimately landing back on kodiak. 

“yeah, very clear.” kodiak’s voice came out roughly, clearly unhappy with the predicament he was in. natalie turned the gun to hannah, “yeah, we won't try anything.” she said in agreement. “we wanna go home too.” you watched from your spot beside mari, quietly fighting the grin that was slowly working its way onto your face.

“we’re going home, mar.” you whispered to the girl, who looked at you with a soft smile. this whole time you had been fighting the hope of going home, thinking that it would never happen, but now it was. 

“good, let’s fucking do this!” you cheered alongside some of the other girls, finally accepting the fact that you were really going home. that moment, however, was quickly ended by lottie.

“i’m staying.” you looked back, confusion on your face, much like the others.

“yeah, cute joke, lot.” lottie set her bag down. “i’m not joking.”

“lottie, what the fuck?” you spoke, heads turning your way. you hadn’t been the most outspoken person, but you were so ready to go home and nothing was going to stop that; especially not lottie matthews. “don’t fucking ruin this. we finally have our chance to go home!” you stepped toward her, anger in your eyes. 

“why?” misty asked, bewilderment on her face. natalie walked past you, talking quietly to lottie, giving her words of encouragement. “i can’t go back. if i go back, nothing will be…well. i won’t… i won’t be well. i won't be me! the me that was made out here.” you sighed softly. you understood that lottie had never felt more like herself than when she was out in the wilderness but that didn’t mean the same applied to the rest of the group. “and that unwellness that i feel, i feel it so deeply in my bones. we’re safer here.”

“fine, you know what, you stay then. everyone else, let's go.” you started to walk, joining travis with the prisoners. you heard the sound of a bag dropping to the ground, letting out a small groan at the sound of shauna speaking, “i’m staying too.”

“fucking christ!” you turned, unaware of kodiak’s eyes trained on you. natalie stormed back to shauna, clearly pissed off. “why would you want to stay, shauna?” 

“i don’t know.” you rolled your eyes, tired of all the bullshit. taissa set her bag down, joining the other two. van began to protest, dropping her bag as she told taissa to pick up her’s.

“whatever shauna and lottie have been feeling, i’ve been feeling too since those two arrived.” the hope that you once held slowly began to diminish as the exchange went on. 

“who cares! god, since when has that ever mattered to you? please, please, tai, look at me! you are not staying here!” van cried out, pleading with her girlfriend.

“i have to-”

“why?” you felt your heart sink with every word exchanged. “it’s what shauna said, something doesn’t feel right!”

“nothing about this is right! our fucking plane crashed, we’ve been stuck out here a whole winter! we can’t do that again!” you shouted from your spot, your frustration clear. “it would be wrong to ignore our rescue!” the three girls shook their heads in disagreement. “fucking hell! you know what, fine! fucking stay then, you’ve gone fucking insane.”

“the rest of us are going.” travis lifted the crossbow as you and the group began to walk toward the edge of camp. 

“no.” you turned on your heel at the sound of shauna, swiftly walking up to her. once you were close enough you swung at her, effectively knocking her on her ass. you weren’t quite sure what took over you, but you kept going as you bloodied her face with your fist. you didn’t hear the screaming and pleas for you to stop, too busy taking out your anger and hatred for shauna on her face. finally you were pulled back by travis, who held you to his chest as you thrashed about. “enough, enough.” he gritted into your ear, dragging you from shauna who sat there, bloodied and shocked. she would survive her injuries, you hadn’t beaten her nearly as bad as she had to lottie.

“you don’t get to tell us what to do, shauna. we’re fucking leaving.” you pushed travis off of you, picking up the crossbow he’d sat down when he went to pull you from shauna. “and if you try to stop us, i will not fucking hesitate to kill you. are we fucking clear?” shauna nodded as everyone watched on in shock. you were never a violent person so seeing you beat the shit out of shauna put a sort of fear in them. you walked toward kodiak and hannah, crossbow raised, “walk.” 

it was practically silent as the group followed kodiak through the wilderness. you weren’t sure how long you had been walking but it was nearly dark out and the rest of the group was beginning to lag behind. you, travis, and natalie had been the ones that kept up the best with hannah and kodiak, barely missing a beat. it was when mari stumbled and nearly fell with a cry that kodiak agreed to stop and rest for the night. 

“we will need someone to stand watch, especially with the outsiders.” you were helping natalie set up a small camp.

“we should do it in two shifts, that way we don’t tire out the whole group before we even leave tomorrow.” natalie nodded in agreement, pulling out a few tattered blankets from a bag.

“why don’t i take hannah and we will take the second shift. do you want me to see if travis will take kodiak for the first shift?” natalie asked, looking over to where travis stood guard by hannah and kodiak.

“no, we may need him to hunt, it's probably best if i take the first shift with him.” natalie looked at you with skepticism, “i can handle myself, nat. plus, i’ll have the gun in case he tries anything stupid.” although she still seemed unsure, natalie nodded in agreement before going back to finishing the camp set up.

it was nearly pitch black out, the only light coming from the moon. you sat against a tree, rifle in hand as you looked out at a clearing in the wilderness. opposite of you was kodiak who hadn’t spoken since you had brought him over to the trees, instead only watching you with a keen eye. “y’know, it's rude to stare.” you muttered, only now looking over to him. kodiak interested you, he looked like he fit in more with your group than hannah did, fitted with a camouflage shirt, scars littered across his body. you weren’t sure if you found him attractive because he was the first man you had seen in months, who wasn’t coach ben or travis of course, or if it was the mystery that surrounded him. maybe, it was a little bit of both. 

“it's also rude to tie the hands of the man that’s going to get you home.” kodiak bit back quickly which earned him a smirk from you.

“fair enough,” kodiak smirked, intrigue in his eyes. “i’ll untie you, but if you try any stupid shit i will shoot you.” you moved the gun so it rested against your back, using a pocket knife you had found while packing to cut his ties. you went back to your spot against the tree as kodiak stretched out. silence blanketed you two for some time.

“so, kodiak,” you drew his name out, “tell me about yourself.” he looked at you with an unamused look on his face. “what? it’ll be a while before nat gets up for the second shift, so i figured we should make the time pass a little faster by getting to know each other.” you shrugged as his face stayed the same, sighing at his uncooperativeness. “fine, i’ll go first. i’m nineteen, i used to be the yearbook committee leader. that's why i was on the stupid flight, so i could document the yellowjackets’ trip to nationals. now, it's your turn.” you nodded for him to continue but he remained silent, an unreadable look on his face. “man, come on! you gotta give me something here!” 

“not much to say,” kodiak said gruffly after a moment of silence. “followed a buck into the woods and never came out.” you didn't say anything as you began to fight the sleep that was trying to take over. after a moment of silence, kodiak spoke again, “you can sleep. i’ll watch the camp. we’ve got a long day ahead of us.” you gave him an unimpressed look, there was no way you were going to fall for that, no matter how kind he appeared in that moment.

“yeah, no. not happening. you’ll probably run off with the gun, or kill us.” you yawned the last part, rubbing at your eyes.

“fine then, but i won’t hesitate to leave you behind if you can’t keep up.” you let out a sarcastic laugh. “and i won't hesitate to shoot you if you try to leave me behind. somewhere nonlethal of course.” you bit back. kodiak didn’t reply, instead you both let the silence blanket you once more. you spent the rest of the time fighting sleep until natalie came toward you, hannah in tow.

“go get some sleep, we’ll stand guard.” she stopped when she saw kodiak’s unbound hands. she sent you a questioning look but said nothing. you got up, kodiak slowly standing up as you walked to natalie.

“he didn’t try anything so i doubt she will either.” you nodded to hannah. “it might be better if we leave them untied, y’know, to gain their trust.” natalie didn’t say anything as you led kodiak to one tent that they had managed to snag from the researchers’ camp. it had been agreed that you and natalie would share the tent with the prisoners, that way it wouldn’t be easy to sneak out.

you made kodiak crawl in first before joining him. the space was kind of tight and there was only one sleeping bag and a couple of tattered blankets. you shivered, taking a seat as you pulled your knees to your chest. “here.” kodiak tossed a blanket to you. “take the sleeping bag. it’s too small for me anyway.” you didn’t argue as you crawled into the sleeping bag, pulling the blanket around your shoulders before using the excess to make a makeshift pillow. you turned over, back to kodiak, as you prepared for sleep to take over. until it didn’t. 

you had spent so long trying to stay awake, you were no longer tired. at least, not to the point where you could fall asleep easily. you turned over to your other side, eyes still closed as you wished for sleep to come to you. when that didn’t work, you turned onto your stomach. and then onto your back. and then back to your side again. kodiak let out a frustrated sigh, “some of us are trying to sleep you know?” he grumbled, turning to face you as you finally opened your eyes. the distance between you didn’t seem nearly as far as when your eyes were closed.

“can’t help it. can’t sleep.” you muttered, suddenly aware of how close the two of you were. you shivered again, pulling the blanket tighter in hopes of creating more warmth, kodiak let out another sigh as you turned over yet again. you felt kodiak shift, his body brushing your’s ever so slightly as he settled down. you laid there, still and quiet, until eventually you fell asleep.  

when you woke, an arm had been tossed over your body and your back was against something solid. you looked over your shoulder, admiring kodiak’s peaceful look as he slept. it was weird seeing him so at ease, like he hadn’t threatened to leave you behind just hours before. 

“it's rude to stare, y’know.” kodiak’s eyes remained closed, his voice barely above a whisper. you tried to move away from him but his grip only tightened. “you wouldn’t stop shivering, was gettin’ on my nerves.” you weren’t sure what to do in that moment, any sleep that remained quickly disappeared, leaving you wide awake and incredibly anxious. you began to try to get more comfortable, unaware of exactly how much you were moving up against kodiak as you did so. “would you stop moving? go back to sleep.”

“can’t.” you laid on your back, eyes staring at the shadows that danced around the top of the tent. you felt kodiak shift slightly, his arm leaving your waist as something hard brushing past your thigh. your breath hitched as you realized what it was and you prayed he didn’t hear you.

“you’re not exactly subtle, you know that?” he muttered, looking over to you as you kept your eyes trained on the shadows. “shouldn’t have been movin’ around like that.” you felt your cheeks heat up, unsure of how to respond.

“sorry.” you apologized as kodiak muttered something you couldn’t quite pick up. you didn’t ask him to repeat himself, too busy wishing the sinful thoughts away. you shouldn't feel this way, not for someone as dangerous and unpredictable as kodiak, but god was he tempting. “fuck it.” you muttered, kodiak looking over at you with an unreadable look as you sat up. kodiak sat up on his elbows as you lunged forward, kissing him with fever. kodiak tensed for a moment before he leaned into the kiss. he pulled you to his chest as you climbed into his lap, fingers tangled in his hair as his hands found your hips. you ground down on his hard-on, chasing friction as kodiak groaned into your mouth. kodiak pulled back from you, enticing a whine from you. he moved his hands from your hips, clamping a hand over your mouth, his other hand placed on the back of your neck as he leaned close, whispering into your ear.

“quiet or the others will hear us, and you wouldn't want them to catch us.” you bucked your hips at his words, oddly turned on by the idea of being caught. “naughty girl, you like the idea of being caught don’t you?” you whimpered into his hand pathetically, bucking your hips in hopes of finding any kind of friction. “will you be quiet?” you nodded, looking at him with blown pupils. kodiak removed his hand from your mouth, helping pull your shirt over your head. you ignored any feeling of self consciousness as kodiak placed open mouth kisses along your neck and down your chest. “fuck, look at you.” your cheeks heated up once more, “all for me.”

“fuck, kodi, please. i need you.” kodiak looked at you with lust in his eyes before hooking an arm under one of your legs, moving you onto your back. you fumbled with the button on his pants, desperate to get him out of them. “please.” you sounded so pathetic which seemed to only turn kodiak on even more. you finally got the button undone as he helped you shimmy out of the tattered sweats you wore, kodiak pulling you into another kiss as he pushed your underwear to the side before inserting a finger. kodiak captured your moan in the kiss, his pace slow and deliberate before beginning to speed up.

“keep making those pretty sounds,” you moaned quietly, kodiak’s lips curling into a smirk, “good girl.” you whined, looking at kodiak with pleading eyes. “use your words.”

“please, i need you.” he gave you a pointed look, his fingers coming to an abrupt stop. you were so close and he was fucking teasing you. “i need your cock, kodi. please!” he looked down on you, clearly pleased by the position he had you in, needy and pathetic. kodiak lined his cock up against your entrance, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, waiting for your approval before moving. “i can’t wait to ruin you,” he sucked on the sweet spot on your neck, “you’re mine. say it.”

“all yours, kodi. all yours.” kodiak’s pace went from almost delicate to rough at your words. you kissed along kodiak’s neck, moaning and whining as he hit your sweet spot over and over again. 

“so fucking tight.” he nipped at your neck, marking it up. you were too busy trying to reach your own climax to worry about the others seeing them later on.

“fuck, i’m close.” you whispered, gasping as he wrapped a hand around your throat. he didn't squeeze tightly, simply applying a small amount of pressure which was enough to make you see stars as you came. you bite down on your lip tightly, drawing blood in an attempt to stay quiet as kodiak kept going, his pace relentless. he buried his head into your neck as he came, biting on your neck slightly before pulling you into a hungry kiss. “good girl.” he whispered against your ear, moving to lay beside you with a strong arm over your waist. 

you both laid there, catching your breaths as you listened to the sound of the wilderness outside your tent. you felt your eyelids begin to droop, heavy with sleep. you felt kodiak’s breath on your neck, slowly evening out. for the first time in months you fell into a comfortable sleep, comforted by the fact that you were finally going home.

[candledburns]

“...What happened to you?”

With her arms folded across her chest, Melanie gives Neo a distinctly unimpressed look - though hidden behind that facade of disinterest is a hint of curiosity. It’s not like Melanie’s ever liked Neo, but she’s certainly not boring - especially considering what Melanie had heard, albeit second-hand...

“I thought you’d like, died, or whatever.”

@tricoloredillusion ( starter for neo! )

[littlespoonevan]

.

[harmonysanreads]

Beloved, how did your blog turn into a Powerpoint slideshow on Amphoreus men?

... :')

My limited wisdom as a mortal tells me this is more of a case of the heart than the head. At least when this blog focused on Aventurine/Sunday/Ratio, I was capable of being objective. But this time, I'm actually simping simping so... yes.

[hunysckle]

just devoured this sammich. leftover baby back rib meat, sautéed jalapenos, saurkraut, red onion, and cilantro with mayo and spicy bbq sauce on a ciabatta roll. twas positively scrumptious !!!

[kindlythevoid]

Any Rewind updates coming soon? 👀

If I was a very lucky person. I'd say we might see one as soon as this Friday.

But then. It may not be a very good chapter, and it may actually be a part one of a chapter.

But if it is finished, and edited, and the people want the not-very-good chapter...

Then perhaps. Perhaps we will have one on Friday.

Kindly,

The Void

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)