#she's only polite to his face. she talks shit behind his back.. which is sad because he has nothing but good things to say about her

[mymarifae]

speaking of aventurine. did you know that in jp he calls stelle "hoshi kaku-chan" . as far as i can tell that's the only honorific he's ever used for anyone. (well caelus gets -kun but like you know what i mean) i can and will die on this hill that aventurine was genuinely charmed by stelle's oddball personality, and if it hadn't been for the whole "i need to trick you into letting acheron kill me because if you figure out what i'm trying to do you'll stop me and/or her, because you're stupidly brave like that" ordeal he would have liked to be friends with her. like For Real

[gaysindistress]

Sad girl - thirteen

summary: James has an interesting new business proposal and one hell of a condition to deal with.

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

warnings: cursing, Bucky’s smartass, the feelings, angst, Anthony being Anthony

word count: 2k

part 12 | series masterlist

taglist: @missvelvetsstuff @angelsincident @spencerreidisagorgman @i-have-no-life-charlie @esposadomd @reader-without-a-story @unaxv  @iateall-yourcookies  @alana4610 @kandis-mom @beware-my-thorns @ozwriterchick @littlelizardlizzie @goldensunflowe-r @wh0reforbucknasty

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

The moment they arrived at Bucky’s, she had thrown open the car door before he could open it for her and brushed past him up the stairs. He had felt her anger before but this time is entirely different. There’s a budding relationship at stake now, the flower just barely peeking out of the soil and any turbulent weather would destroy it. He had to figure out a way to apologize at the very least if he wanted to save what they had, however, she isn’t going to make it easy by any means. 

“Doll, wait” he calls after her when she disappears inside. 

Steve comes out, looking back at her and then at Bucky, “Do I want to know?”

“If I’m not in my office in 15 minutes, send help,” he huffs, chasing after her inside the house. 

She hadn’t worn heels that day so there was no clicking to be heard but the heavy thuds of her boots do echo as she continues to march up to her room. Bucky’s footsteps aren’t far behind her which pisses her off even more. 

Turning on her heel now only feet away from him and catching by surprise, “Stop following me.”

“Will you just stop for a second then?”

“Why? You didn’t care at the café or in the car so what changed?” she spits with disgust. 

“You were the one who came at me first,” his nostril flared in vexation at her attitude. 

Her mocking laugh bounces off the walls, “After you pulled some shit.”

She spins away and resumes her march onward, leaving Bucky irate and fuming. He has to clench to stop himself from saying something stupid. 

“Doll this is your last warning; stop,” he demands, his voice drips with authority. 

However she doesn’t stop, throwing open her bedroom door and nearly slamming it shut but his hands stop it, rings making harsh sounds as they land on the wood. 

“I told you to stop.”

“And I told you to stop following me.”

He is on her in seconds, spinning her around so that her back meets the door. Caging her in with hands on either side of her shoulders, he stares down at her with menacing blue eyes. 

“Get. The. Fuck. Off. Of. Me” she hisses as she tries to shove him away from her. His left-hand grips both of her hands and pins them to her chest so she can’t move. 

“I asked you politely to stop once and then I had to ask again. I don’t like to repeat myself, let alone chase angry brats up the stairs,” his hot breath fans against her face, “Now are you going to behave?”

Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, “Are you going to get off of me?” A sinister chuckle leaves his mouth as he continues to stare down at her, “No, now don’t make me repeat myself.”

A quiet ‘okay’ comes from her, soft under the harsh gaze of the mercenary. She’s never seen his menacing side up close before and it was terrifying to see the gentleman she’s come to know act this way. 

“Good girl. Before you decided to be a brat, I was trying to apologize for setting up that meeting with Anthony. I should’ve talked to you about it beforehand but as we know, you don’t like to do as I say so I had to make an executive decision.”

She tries to speak but his free hands clasp over her mouth so she can’t. 

“I’m not done speaking,” he pauses to ensure she’s listening, “I had hoped that my goodbye would’ve turned out differently but I guess we don’t get what we want sometimes. I have to leave early for Washington D.C. for an emergency meeting. I was going to surprise you with a weekend away but I don’t think you deserve it. Regardless there will be a party Friday honoring Steve, Sam, and me, and you will be joining me. Nat has all of the details and will keep an eye on you while I’m gone. Do you think you can behave until then?”

Every fiber in her body is on fire with anger and lust but mostly anger at his demeaning words. Men like him are every inch of dangerous they seem to be and it was stupid of her to assume he wouldn’t use his power over her as he is now. She wants to slap him to set him straight but she’s not in the position to make any power moves. Instead, she nods and resists the urge to spit at him when he moves his hand away. 

“Good girl, Doll. Remember if anything happens, Nat will tell me.” 

“I’m aware,” the slight challenge is enough to make him smirk but not enough for him to reassert his dominance. He releases her hands and backs away. 

“While you’re out dress shopping, make sure to get matching wedding rings. I planned for us to do it together but it looks like that won’t happen.”

“Do you want a simple one or one to match the size of your ego?”

“Whatever you pick will be just fine, Doll,” he kisses her forehead which should be a sweet gesture but is really just a callback to the first time he did it; a move to show he’s in control. 

________________________________________________________________

A week is plenty of time to plot your revenge against an asshole husband who had tried to control you and treated you like some stupid housewife, right? It seems as though it is just the right amount of time for her to plot her revenge. There are several ways she could go about this however the best option is the one he least expects. 

During her week, true to his word, Nat hadn’t left her side and was always within a three-foot radius of her. When Doll moved, Nat moved. It was a bit exhausting however she did like her so it made for a fast week. Their first outing had been to find rings which proved to be harder than they had anticipated. 

They had found her ring within half an hour, a 3-carat eternity band to match her 3-carat solitaire radiant engagement ring. Finding Bucky’s, however, took nearly an hour. 

“What about this one?” Nat had been holding up a simple black band when she’d asked Doll. 

“No, that's too simple. We need something just big enough that it’s annoying,” she’d replied as the jewelry counter person gave them both weird looks. 

“Ah, I see. What about this one?” This time she’d held up a ring that looked like it belonged to a football player who had won the Super Bowl. 

“Jesus he might actually kill me if I showed up with that,” Doll laughed as she continued to search. 

Both of their eyes went on the same ring; a silver signet ring much like the one he already wore.

“Excuse me, can this be engraved and how long will it take?” 

“Yes Madam it can be engraved and for you, we could have it ready in two days,” the French jeweler said as they took the ring and began the process of checking the women out. 

Nat rolled her eyes as Doll made sure that Bucky would feel her revenge. 

________________________________________________________________

He had tried to text, call, and even facetime her while he was away but she barely answered. His messages were met with short responses, his calls either declined or lasted less than five minutes, and she only picked up his facetime call once. Steve harassed him endlessly about how whipped he was and how he needed to get over the honeymoon phase already. He was met with legendary side eyes and one-word commands from the brooding mercenary. 

At this rate, he would be surprised if she even showed up. His only confirmation that she was alive and still planned on coming to D.C. was Nat’s updates. The latest of which had been a secretive picture of Doll trying on dresses for the gala. She was trying on a red floor-length dress that was a halter top with an open back. The caption that accompanied it said: “She hates the red. Any color suggestions?”

“The red looks the best.”

“Are you even trying to get on her good side? Pick a different color and I won’t tell her what you said.”

“Fine black is her signature color.”

“You’re the worst. Remind me to never take you shopping.”

If Nat kept sending him pictures, he might hop on a plane back to New York and beg for forgiveness on his knees.

________________________________________________________________

“I don’t know Nat. I’m not really feeling the red but I can’t go with black because that’s too obvious. What about blue? Or white?”

Nat lounges in the boutique’s chair, phone on her lap as if she wasn’t secretly sending pictures to Bucky. Doll fiddles with the sides of the dress she’s currently wearing, turning in every direction to get a better look. 

“For someone who claims to not care what he thinks, you’re sure doing a lot of worrying.”

“And you’re terrible at hiding the fact that you’re taking pictures.”

“It’s for safety reasons,” she tries while taking another picture, this time not even trying to hide it. 

“As in you’re tired of Bucky blowing up your phone, asking for updates so you’re voluntarily sending him pictures to get him to stop,” Doll says as she steps off the pedestal and heads to the dressing room. 

“He’s getting really irritated that you’re not answering his messages or calls, ya know? Ignoring him isn’t going to make him any nicer the next time you see him,” Nat calls after her. 

“Ignoring him is a welcomed side effect of planning my revenge. Black or white?”

“Bucky says black.”

“White it is.”

Nat chuckles at the other woman as she goes back to her phone. Stepping back out of the dressing room, she’s wearing another floor-length gown that’s white with feathers across the top. 

“Mmmmm,” she hums as she adjusts the top, “No. The white is too bright.”

“Isn’t that what you want though? To be the center of attention?”

“If I wanted that, I would just show up naked.”

Nat chokes on the champagne she is sipping and has to cough as she looks over at Doll, phone to her ear. Doll starts laughing at her reaction but it quickly dies off when she sees the phone in Nat’s hand and the horrified look on her face. 

“I don’t know what did you hear?” Nat says into the phone, “Hm I think you need hearing aids. We’re almost done here and then we’ll be headed back to your place to pack. Goodbye.”

“You are going to get yourself into big trouble,” she points at the other woman with a warning. 

“How was I supposed to know you were on the phone? You didn’t warn me.”

“I don’t have to tell you every time I’m on the phone. Hurry up before he shows up at the house, ready to fight someone.” 

She sticks her tongue out at Nat as she walks back to the dressing rooms once again. Neither woman say anything as she changes into the last dress. The second white dress was not her first choice but it’s looking like it might be her only choice. Sliding it up her body, the sleeveless mermaid gown had a corset top the wraparound style and central slit gave it the elegance she was looking for. The corset has horizontal draperies that gracefully accentuate her shape and to top it off, it has a small and neat train. 

“Nat,” her sing-song voice flows through the air as she waltzes back to the mirrors. 

“My my Mrs. Barnes, don’t you look dazzling?” the other woman fiends fainting at the sight of her. 

“I think this is the one.” 

“I agree,” Nat pauses to glance at her phone, “and your rings are ready so let’s get out of here.”

[xoxo-teddybear]

Competition - Bakugou Katsuki - Victorious Inspired

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Cursing, Fluff(ish), Crack, Jealous Bakugou, tatted Bakugou Cuz we love a lil spice

Summary: You were doing homework online with your friends when a needy Bakugou wanted your attention and was pouty when he didn’t get it. After Mina slipped up and said something stupid, Bakugou assumed horrible things and went over only to find out something so very comical.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

You were in your second year of college and the work was killing you. Thankfully, this time around, your assignment was the slightest bit easier, as it was a group project. You, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina were currently working on the project through the computer while being on video chat. The night was still young and you still had plenty to do.

“Okay, after I type in this paragraph, what should the next section be abou-“ You were cut off by the sound of a little French bulldog barking and scampering your way. The cute little black dog jumped onto your lap and made itself comfortable, causing you to look down and smile at it before petting it’s ears.

“Awww, look at the little puppy!” Mina said.

“He’s cute, right? I’m watching him for my neighbor while he’s at his football game.” You explained.

“You live next to a football player?!” The pink girl exclaimed.

“I do,” you said with a smile.

“Figures. I live next to an old man who likes to throw lemons at me!” She ranted. The group all laughed at her before continuing the job.

You all worked and finished about 4 pages of the assignment. While in the midst of the 5th page, your boyfriend requested to join your video chat. “Oop, hold on. Suki’s asking to join.”

You added your junior high school sweetheart to the call and was met with a frustrated pout. “Hi babe!” You squealed.

The group all tried to say their greetings to their friend but he spoke before they could. “Where have you been?”

“What? At home.” You said.

“I’ve been calling you, texting you, and basically blowing up your phone, and you haven’t been answering for hours!” He whined. His friends got a small kick out of seeing their tough friend be a softie for his girlfriend and remained quiet to enjoy the show.

“Sorry. I’ve been doing homework and-“

“What is that? Why do you have that animal on you?” He interrupted and asked as he slanted his eyes towards the small canine.

“It’s my neighbor’s dog,” you said with a pitched voice as you cradled the pup closer, almost like you were defending it’s honor.

“Her neighbor, the football player.” Mina mentioned with a sly voice. You shut your eyes and released a slow sigh as you knew what was coming.

“Football player?!” Bakugou shouted.

“Why? Why would you say that?” You said to Mina with a disappointed tone. She was one of his friends, she knew what the reaction would’ve been.

“Sorry,” she genuinely said.

“Why are you doing favors for some football player and what is he doing for you?” Bakugou seethed.

“There’s nothing going on, he’s just-“

“I’m coming over there.” He blatantly said.

“No- no. You don’t need to-“ without letting you finish, Bakugou signed off and went to get ready for his leave. You sighed at your jealous boyfriend and threw shady eyes towards Mina.

—

Some time had passed and your group had finished the 7th page. Almost done! Thank god for this being a small little assignment. Unfortunately, your boyfriend’s little fuss put you all behind schedule a little and it didn’t help that he finally made his arrival to add a little more drama to the show.

A bang was heard at your door. “Open up Y/N!”

“Uhh, I think you’re getting robbed Y/N.” Kaminari said.

“Nah, it’s just Suki.” You said to the blonde through the screen. You then turned to your front door to speak to your boyfriend who was on the other side. “You’re being ridiculous!”

Bang! Bang! Bang! “I need to talk to you!” He said.

“Sorry, door’s locked!” You replied. Unfortunately, the door busted open and you sighed in frustration. “And now it’s not.”

“He has a key?” Kirishima asked.

“No, he has a foot.” You said and then turned to your boyfriend with a sarcastic but also genuine smile. “Hi baby.”

And now here stood your angry boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki. He was dressed in his combat boots, a pair of black jeans and a white tee. He held a dark green bomber jacket in his hands that he wore due to the slightly cold weather out in the night. With the jacket off, his fully tatted arms were exposed along with the few tattoos that adorned his neck. He had his silver chain on along with a few rings and his cross piercing on his left ear and a few other random ones on his right. To anyone else, your boyfriend looked like a ruffian especially with his motorcycle that was surely parked out front. He definitely was an attractive man. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and you felt so blessed to have him and have him want you and only you.

He looked like the typical bad boy who was mean as fuck and also happened to be good at everything he did. In reality, he was just your Suki who was a softie that can be a little tempered at times. Like right now.

“What is going on?!” He asked in frustration.

“You just kicked my door open!” You said as you pointed to the evidence.

“Put the dog down and tell me about this football asswipe who lives next door!” He demanded.

“No! I will not put the dog down!” You said, cradling the sweet baby even closer.

“Oh you’re not?!” He said in a threatening tone but you knew your boyfriend would never do any real harm.

“No! If you want to meet the football player then you can wait to talk to him when he gets back.” You said.

“Then I’ll wait for him!” He said, taking a seat a little bit behind you from your setup on the couch’s ottoman.

“Fine!” You said, turning back to your friends. After a second, you realized something and turned back to face him. “No kiss?”

He only stuck his tongue out at you to which you pouted in anger and did the same before turning around. However, you smiled once you felt him come up from behind you and place a peck on your cheek before going back to his spot on the couch.

“Awwww,” your group of friends cooed to which you and Bakugou both smiled and rolled your eyes.

—

Some more time passed and eventually, Mina and Kirishima both grew too tired (thanks to that college schedule) and signed off for the night. Surprisingly, Kaminari was the one who stayed up with you to continue to do the work and was more than happy to help.

“Guess it’s just you and me.” You said to the electric blonde.

“And me.” Your boyfriend said with sass in the background of your screen.

You and Kaminari continued to work until you got to the 15th and final page. Like what was previously said, very easy, very simple, very short. All you had to do was finish this last page and you’d be done! Unfortunately, the universe had different plans and an expected knock was heard at your door.

“Ouu, is that the football player?” Kaminari cooed and teased knowing Bakugou would hear.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Come in!” You kindly called.

“Yeah, COME IN!” Your boyfriend rudely said, setting himself up to sit a little straighter and look a little meaner.

To his surprise, in came a young boy who was dressed in his school representative hoodie and a pair of sweats. “Hi Y/N!”

“Hi Ryu!” You said to the young boy who took a seat next to you. “Katsuki, this is my next door neighbor, Ryu. Ryu, this is my boyfriend, Katsuki.”

“Nice to meet you mister!” The boy said with excitement as he looked towards your “scary” boyfriend in the back.

“Hello Ryu.” Your boyfriend said in a defeated tone that he hid with a smile and wave towards the little boy. You smirked at your boyfriend as you recognized his tone. The tone he usually had when you proved him wrong. Ryu being the sweet boy he is also waved towards your friend at the camera to be polite.

“What’s up little man,” Kaminari said as a greeting. Ryu turned to you to pick up his little frenchie.

“Thanks for taking care of Natsu!” He said sweetly.

“Anytime kiddo!” You said, giving him the dog. Ryu pet his pup for a second before looking back at Bakugou and whispering to you. Luckily, it was loud enough for Bakugou to hear.

“Your boyfriend looks really cool!” He whispered excitedly.

“I know!” You whisper-yelled back with a smile. Kaminari let out a little laugh while Bakugou had a sad face. He felt guilty for wanting to come here to beat the shit out of a football player, only for that football player to be a cool lil kid who thought he was pretty cool too.

“Well thanks again! Bye now!” Ryu said before getting up and leaving with his dog. You waved at them until the door shut, you crossed your legs and smiled as Katsuki got up with a sigh and took Ryu’s seat next to you.

“Wow Bakugou, looks like you got some competition!” Kaminari teased. Bakugou only sighed and rubbed his temples with one hand before feeling you push on his shoulder.

“You gonna say you’re sorry~” you teasingly asked.

“You didn’t tell me he was 9!” He argued.

“You didn’t give me a chance!” You laughed out. Bakugou flopped onto his back as he began bantering with you. You both went back and forth and Kaminari chuckled to himself before signing off to let the cute couple have their time in privacy.

Bakugou remained on his back until you poked his face and he grabbed you before flipping the both of you over so that you were under him. He flopped down onto your body, getting comfortable on your chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair in a successful attempt to soothe him.

“Just wanted some attention from my baby.” He muffled out with a small blush. You smiled and looked towards your screen.

“Well Kaminari signed off, Natsu’s gone, and it’s just you and me. You now have my undivided attention, Suki.” You said. Bakugou sighed in content before going up to place a kiss on your lips.

“Good.” He said before tucking his head into the crevasse of your neck. You held him close while he played the small spoon and you both cuddled up nicely. If it was attention he wanted, it was attention he’d get.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan

[gardens-light]

Friends With Benefits

Trying to balance museum employee by day, vigilante by night, and squeezing in a social life in between hasn't been easy for Steven. Love life? That's pretty non-existent for the poor guy. Dates seem to go well, (when he hasn't forgotten, or got dates wrong) but once things gets steamy... Not so much...

Being a little hung up of being ghosted by his recent date. Steven decides to catch up with his long term friend. To see where he's going wrong and perhaps could help. Well... he got more than he bargained for...

Content- Just some cutesy fluff.

"Tell me everything!"

You placed your drink down upon the surface of the small cafe table. The loud grinding of the coffee beans, gave Steven the few moments hesitation before he spoke.

"Well... me and Amy met up for our third date, last week on Wednesday. We went to the Italian place that you suggested. The convocation was going great, there was a connection between us-"

"Was there a connection? Or was she being polite, while you bore the shit out of her with your rambles?"

"Hey!-"

"Dude! You thought that... um, what's her name?... Chrissy! Chrissy from three months ago. You thought you two had a 'connection.'"

Steven frowned, feeling offended. "Me and Amy did have a connection! We had similar interests and talked passionately about them."

You nodded in approval and gestured for him to continue, as you took a sip from your drink.

"She loved the flowers. I treated her to ice-cream. A-And..."

You were on the edge of your seat. Gazing at him with deeply invested gaze. "And!"

"And she suggested of watching a movie back at my place. So... during the short walk to mine, her hand kinda... didn't stop rubbing my ass-"

"Details man! Give me details! Did she squeeze you? Was it a playful spank?- Most importantly, did you want it?"

You couldn't help but smile, as Steven's face turned red as a beetroot.

"U-Um... yes! I liked her squeezing my ass. It was... firm but not a hard squeeze. When we got to the door to the lobby of my building... sh-she kissed me-which felt so good! But..."

"But what?"

"I panicked when she touched my crotch. So I gave her a quick peck... and said 'goodnight' closing the door behind me." Steven placed his face into his hands.

While you sat back in your chair, feeling defeated and disappointed for his date. "What? Steven!-"

"I-I know! I was such a fool! But she was so beautiful! And smart! And fun! I-I just... couldn't help but freeze and panic."

More like you wouldn't let me help. Marc hissed in Steven's head.

Steven frowned and muttered to himself, "what 'help' could you provide?"

Idiot! I was married! What did you think we did during that whole time? Play Monopoly?...

You took another sip from your drink, before placing it back on the table. "Oh gees man. No wonder why she ghosted you. Wait! Is that the recurring problem during your dates?."

Steven's silence and awkward smile explained everything. You leaned over the table, trying to get a little closer to him. Speaking loud enough just for both of you to hear. "Can you... y'know?"

Steven's cheeks turned even more red, "what? O-Of course I can!"

"Then what's the problem?"

A heavy sigh left him, as he leaned back in his chair. No longer smiling awkwardly, just playing with his fingers. "I... get nervous..."

More like you won't let me take over!.

"I feel like that if... I do have intimacy with someone..."

They'll enjoy it?

"That I could be too rough. And hurt them."

A sweet smile spread across your lips. "Aww, Steven. You're a complete softy. You couldn't hurt anyone, even if you wanted to."

Steven's worried gaze looked up at you. If only you knew otherwise... his sad thought wondered.

Seeing him stare off into space a little. You cleared your throat, snapping Steven back into focus, before he could get lost in his own thoughts.

"How about I help you out?"

Steven pulled a puzzled expression. "H-Help?... How?"

"Simple. We go on a pretend date and you fuck me." You boldly spoke.

His jaw met the floor. Blinking in multiple times in confusion. He even shook his head a little, to make sure he didn't daydreamed. "Wh-What? But you're my friend!"

You simply shrugged your shoulders, "yes and?..." A little sigh left you. "Steven... I can see you get a little more and more insecure, every time a chick ghosts you. You're a sweet guy, and my best friend. I don't want to keep seeing you getting hurt."

"Y/N! Really! W-We don't have to!-"

"Steven. Seriously, I don't mind it. I'm simply just being a good friend and helping you solve your problem. Unless... you don't want too."

He could feel his cheeks feel a little warm. "Well..." He rubbed the back of his neck, "I-It's just... you're my best friend, Y/N. What if it gets a little weird between us afterwards?... or... we ugh... become no longer friends?..."

A soft chuckle left your throat, as a sweet smile spread across your lips. "There's nothing to worry about. Your performance in bed can't be that bad. How about we meet up back here tonight?"

"T-Tonight?"

"Yeah. Y'know the pretend date, I just mentioned? We'll act like we've never met- kinda like we met on Tinder or something. Does six o'clock sound good for you?"

"Y-Yes! I'll be my normal self. Normal 'date Steven'. Not the 'best-friend-I've-almost-known-my-whole-life' Steven..."

Six O'clock. Jamie's Italian.

"Act like we never met. Act like we never met." Steven repeated constantly as he rocked on his heels. Holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers, while fumbling with his tie in another.

You gotta let me out tonight.

Steven turned to his right, facing his reflection in the window. Marc stood with his arms crossed in the glass.

"No. This isn't a normal date-"

Aren't you supposed to pretend it is? Besides what's the worst that could happen?-

"That I could lose my best friend forever because of your screw up. Like you've screwed up everything else in my life.-"

Or we could have such a great time. That the soulmate we've been looking for, as been in front of us the whole time.

"That would never happen- oh sweet Jesus."

The sight of you came into his view. Steven's jaw hung open a little as he gazed at your appearance in awe. A cute red cocktail dress, outlined every curve of your silhouette. The sweetheart neckline showed off your cleavage nicely. You felt Steven's eyes wonder up and down your frame, as you sweetly smiled.

"Steven, right? Thanks for waiting. Sorry I'm late." You spoke in a warm tone.

It took him a good solid minute to find his voice again, and hand you the bouquet. "Th-These are for you!" was all that could stumble out of his mouth.

"Thank you. You remembered." You tried to hide your smile behind the bouquet, as you personally found Steven's awkwardness amusing.

He continued to rock on his heels. Only stopping and becoming as stiff as a board, when you reached out for his hand and held it in a gentle hold.

"What's wrong? A little shy?-"

"You're so fucking hot."

A confused expression wiped away your teasing smile, taken completely by surprise of Steven's sudden boldness. He immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, feeling embarrassed and ashamed by Marc's sudden outburst of words.

Don't screw this up! I beg of you! Steven pleaded Marc. As he adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.

"Oh dear! Oh my! I-I don't know what came over me. I completely apologize! I-I mean... you look so beautiful..."

"Thank you?..."

It took you a moment to shake off the awkward and sudden complement from Steven. Before you allowed him to lead you into the restaurant. The waiter lead you to the table, the waiter pulled out your chair before the thought hit Steven. Tucking yourself in and with Steven following, the pair at you gazed over the menu in silence. Only talking when announcing your order and giving each other small smiles.

More moments of small talk and brief awkwardness passed, before things got better and an actual convocation was flowing between the pair of you. Topics varying from interests, work and career goals. To personal and lifestyle goals.

"I honestly didn't think I would find myself at the gift shop at a museum." Steven admitted. "I've always wanted to be a tour guide. Or work on the artifacts and display them."

"Really? I thought you just took the position cause you wanted a job." You spoke in interest. "I honestly thought your interest in Egyptian history was more of a hobby."

"Well... who else learns to read hieroglyphics?"

You raised an eyebrow, "you can read hieroglyphics?"

"Ye-Yes, is that-"

"Fascinating? Yes! I never knew that! Why didn't you ever tell me about this hidden talent?"

Steven felt himself a blush a little, "I-I thought it would bore you. Cause y'know... you sometimes say 'not to mention nerdy stuff.'"

"Yea. 'Nerdy stuff' like rambling on about forgotten Gods and how the mummies were made. But being able to read hieroglyphics? That's awesome! You, sir! Are way to qualified to work at that gift shop."

A sweet smile came to his face, "r-really? I've tried to tell that to my boss Sarah. But she keeps dismissing me. My application aren't even taken seriously whenever a new position comes up. And it frustrates me, when they hire someone new, who clearly Googled stuff on their phone before the interview.-"

"And bullshit on their resume? Babe, I've got someone exactly like that at my job. So I can completely understand where you're coming from."

Babe?... S-She called me 'babe.'

Your meals shortly arrived at your table. But you kept asking about other interests or hobbies that Steven may had, that you didn't know about.

Steven felt good- great in fact. The way everything flowed so effortlessly between the pair of you. Similar interests and goals surfacing through convocation, that you both honestly didn't know about one another. His warm and geeky smile fluttered your heart, every time you looked at him.

This... is actually more fun than I admit. An honest thought swam through your head. Maybe... we should do this again sometime...

After finishing your meal, and splitting the bill. You and Steven left the restaurant, sharing moments of laughter as you sub-constantly begun to walk back to his place. It wasn't unusual for you guys to head back to his place after meeting up, but reality dawned on Steven as he approached the lobby door.

"We're...here. At my place..."

You hugged him from behind. "Yeah. Guess we got carried away talking. Let's go inside, maybe you could warm me up."

You felt his body stiffen, as Steven's mind lingered on your last three words. Placing a hand upon his cheek you made him face you. "Steven... we don't have you to, if you don't want to."

"Trust me Y/N. I-I want to... Tonight has been so great. And I've been nothing but comfortable with you this whole time. It's just... I'm worried that I might ruin things."

You gazed into his puppy-dog eyes, "how could you ruin things?."

"I-I don't know... Just... worried. That's all..."

Pulling him closer to you. Steven held his breath as he felt your breasts push up against his chest, your free hand playing with his tie as you leaned in close. His lips quivered as both of your eyes closed, and fell into a sweet, soft kiss. You could feel his nerves through his body language. Each kiss returned was paused by a slight hesitation. His hands fixed on your hips, afraid to move anywhere else. While you played with his curly locks and tie.

As you pulled away, your hands sliding down his torso and gently holding onto his belt. A sweet smile upon your lips, as Steven smiled sheepishly while blushing.

"W-Would you like to come inside?" He nervously asked.

You answered with a simple nod. Following Steven into the lobby and walking towards the lift. As you stepped inside and he pressed the button for his floor. Steven went all stiff again, as he felt you hug his arm, your breasts gently nudging his forearm with gentle bounces, as the lift jolted from floor to floor.

"Y-You have to meet my fish, Gus" his nervous tone blurted.

The awkwardness made you laugh under your breath, "really?"

"Yeah. He's a Goldish, but has one fin. I know 'Nemo' might of been better, but he's not a Clownfish. Gotta name pets appropriately."

Again you simply nodded, and continued to smile sweetly.

By the time you both reached his flat, Steven was nothing but a bundle of nerves. His eyes wandered all over your perfectly framed form, as you walked around in your little red cocktail dress. His heartbeat drumming in his rib cage, every time you bent over his desk to get a closer look at something. His cheeks redden every time you caught him staring, but flashed him a teasing smile. As you hiked up your dress a little more, or pulling the bodice down to expose more cleavage.

For the love of Ra, she's fucking gorgeous!

Steven looked at Marc in the nearby reflection of the kettle. Y/N is right there! Flirting and being playful. And what are you doing? Standing in the middle of the kitchen like a fucking idoit!.

"She's always been gorgeous. Her lovely personality, and how she laughs. All I need is her smile to make my day-"

Then what's holding you back?

"Th-There's so much emotion and thoughts going around in my head. I-I honestly don't know what to do."

You slowly turned your attention onto Steven, as he didn't realize he spoke out loud.

Listen. We have always loved and cared about her. You were too nervous to say or do anything still now. If Y/N wasn't comfortable with this idea, she wouldn't of offered. Plus she's flirting and being teasing- literally!.

"B-But how is sex supposed to improve or change things?"

"Steven?... Are you alright?"

You're overthinking! That's it! I'm taking control!

"What? No! No, you're not!"

You pulled a puzzled expression. "Steven. It's alright. Nothing will happen unless you want it to."

"Everything will be ruined-"

Shut the fuck up! You look completely ridiculous! Let me out!

A small gasp left your mouth as Steven collapsed onto his knees, his head slightly tilted back as eyes rolled into the back of his head. You quickly approached his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

"Steven! Steven, are you alright?"

His body posture straightened as he knelt against the hard wooden floor. His eyes fluttered open and slightly shaking his head. His gaze met your worried expression.

"I'm sorry" Marc spoke, trying his best to mimic Steven's voice. "I guess the alcohol went straight to my head.-"

"We don't have to do anything. I'll go home, there's nothing wrong in that-"

"Trust me. Letting you leave would be a deep regret. You're so lovely and ravishing right now, I honestly can't control myself. A... part of me, is so concerned that everything between us would be ruined. That it... 'overrides' the part of me that wants to just simply fuck you and make you mine. And I don't just mean tonight."

Again the sudden boldness' caught you off guard. You gazed at Marc, blinking in multiple times in confusion. He swivelled around on his knees to face you, making it easier for him to cup your face.

"May I kiss you?" Marc asked.

This time it was your turn to blush a little. As you nuzzled against his nose a little. "You said you wanted to make me yours right?" your sweet voice teased.

Marc gently pulled you a little closer. "If we start... I might not be able to control myself."

You sweetly bit his lower lip, "are you going to make me yours, or not Steven?"...

[the7thcrow]

600 degrees

~

pairing: bang chan x (fem) reader

summary: you can’t cook. like, really can’t cook. good thing your cute neighbour is here to help clean up the mess.

word count: 5.1k

genre: neighbours au. strangers to lovers. the fluffiest of fluff, slightly suggestive.

warnings: a make-out session, bad humour, minho being a twat of a roommate, and tooth-rotting fluff.

rating: 14+

a/n: hi guys! hope you enjoy this one, it’s so much more wholesome and fluffy than what i usually write, but I'm pretty happy about it. don’t by shy to send me an ask or leave a comment. anything you have to say, I would love to hear. :)

...

..

.

“Fine. Since you won’t come, at least enlighten me on how you plan to keep yourself busy?” Minho asks, casually leaning against your kitchen island. He stares at you, with that familiar condescending smirk you’ve seen far too many times.

“I don’t know,” you state, rolling your eyes. Rising to your feet, you head over to your shared refrigerator, pulling a bottle of Sangria out of the fridge. “But I’m sure I’ll find something.”

“You know, if you want to drink, you could at least do it at the party.” Minho approaches you from behind, placing both his hands on your shoulders. “It’s a lot less sad that way.”

You slap his hand away, letting out a frustrated groan at the laughter he lets out from his own joke. “I get out plenty, quit acting like I’m some lonely cat lady,” you say, grabbing your favourite wine glass from the cupboard. “I like parties, I just don’t like Jisung’s parties. They always get way out of hand.”

“But Y/N,” Minho wines, picking up your freshly poured glass and taking a sip, earning himself a glare. “I never said you were a cat lady, just the lonely part.”

At that you snatch the glass away from his hands. Not wanting to deal with this torment any longer, you walk back to your comfortable, worn-in spot on the couch.

“You know I’m right,” he says, continuing despite the fact you begin to turn up the volume of the television. “And the only way you’re going to change that is by accompanying me to Jisung’s loud, out of hand parties.”

You turn to face him, raising your eyebrows. “Somehow, I doubt my soulmate associates himself with Han Jisung.”

“Well that can’t be right, because I associate myself with Han Jisung?”

“Shut up, Minho.”

Your roommate snickers to himself as he opens the fridge, taking a quick glance at everything - or for a better term, lack of anything - inside. “What are you even going to eat? There’s nothing leftover from last night.”

“I’ll make something,” you say. Frankly, you had expected the outburst of laughter, but that didn’t do anything to simmer down your growing annoyance.

“Make something?” Minho laughs, giving you an incredulous stare. “Y/N, I’ve lived with you for two years and I don’t think I’ve seen you cook anything once.”

“Hey, I can cook,” you return, wrinkling your nose. “But why would I, when I have you to do it for me?”

At this, it’s Minho’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, okay, I take that back. I don’t want you to come, have fun curling up on the couch alone with your three cats.”

“They’re literally yours.”

“Whatever,” he says, opening your front door. “Just don’t burn the apartment down, alright?”

As he closes the door, you flip him off. At first, you aren’t sure if he saw, but you’re given your answer as his laughter echoes down the hallway, fading as he walks further away.

You scowl. Of course you can cook. Well, at the very least, well enough to make a meal for one on a saturday night. Minho didn’t know what he was talking about.

Minho. Your best friend and roommate for the last two years. Man, does the guy have a way of pushing your buttons. You love him, of course. In the weird, bickering, just short of volatile friendship sort of way the two of you had developed.

Still, you can’t deny that even with his painfully irritable nature, he is still a good friend. No matter how many times you say no, he always offers to take you anywhere he goes. He pushes you out of your comfort zone. He’s there to console you when a date goes bad, or you failed a test you studied hard for. He makes all his meals for two, just because he doesn’t want you to live solely off shitty take-out.

He’s your rock. Your platonic other half. Your closest companion.

Which means you are going to prove him wrong, and then rub it in his face as much as you possibly can. Of course, because that’s what friends are for.

~~~~

Then again, maybe you wouldn’t. Or, at the very least, it was going to be exceedingly more difficult now that your apartment was full of smoke.

Covering your nose with one hand, you take the tray of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven. If you can even call them that, as they now held a far closer resemblance to that of hockey pucks. Both in looks, and what you could assume in taste, as well.

Okay, you know chocolate chip cookies don’t really count as a decent meal, but they are the only thing you remember how to cook from when you lived at home. Or maybe you didn’t remember, based on the tray of failure sitting in front of you.

Then, to make matters even worse, your fire alarm starts going off.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath. Now you are going to have to go to the front desk, let them know everything is okay.

Maybe Minho was right, you should’ve just went to Jisung’s stupid party and eaten something there. Putting all the other painful aspects of Han’s parties aside, Felix was his roommate, so the horderves were always excellent.

They were better than your hockey puck cookies, anyway.

Letting out a disappointed sigh, you open your apartment door, prepared to get a rough scolding from the lady working the front desk. However, you are surprised to find a man standing in front of you, his hand in the air, as if he were about to knock.

“Hi,” he says, awkwardly putting his hand back down at his side. He has messy platinum blonde hair, and soft eyes. He’s cute, and the realization quickly makes you recognize him.

“You’re my neighbor,” you say, pointing a finger at him. It’s not until he doesn’t respond immediately that you realize it was a strange thing to say. Obviously, he knows he’s your neighbor, and he might be a little offended you didn’t recognize him immediately.

Then again, the two of you had never really talked before. Everytime you would pass each other in the hall, he’d always give a polite nod and continue walking. Sometimes you’d try to say hello, or start a small conversation, but he always disappeared quickly. It had gotten to the point where you assumed he had some strange, unwarranted grudge against you.

So, it was safe to say that you were more than just a little surprised to find him at your door.

“Uh, yeah, I am. Are you okay? I thought I smelt something burning, and then I heard the fire alarm go off.” He asks, peeking behind you into your apartment, seeing if he can catch sight of any flames.

Instead, his eyes land on your tray of butchered cookies, and he… smirks?

“Oh,” he says, attempting to hide the smile growing on his face. “Having some cooking trouble?”

You stare at him for a moment, watching as his lips pursed together, stifling a chuckle. “Are you...” you begin, your jaw dropping slightly. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No,” he looks down at you, finally letting his grin free. “I would never.”

“Yeah, okay,” you frown, already not enjoying that sarcastic look on his face. You thought you’d be able to avoid that humiliating look considering Minho wasn’t here, but apparently not.

 “As you can see, it’s nothing. So if you’ll excuse me,” you continue, attempting to move past him. “I need to go get my neck rung by the lady at the front desk,” However, he doesn’t budge from his place in your door frame. You cast him a glare, which only makes his smile grow wider.

“Nah, don’t worry, I’ll go let her know,” he says, already turning to walk down the hall. You open your mouth to object, but he casts a glance over his shoulder, snickering. “You focus on cleaning up whatever those black lumps were supposed to be.”

You stand in your doorway, dumbfounded as your neighbor disappears down the complex staircase. Who did this guy think he was, openly laughing at your current predicament? Sure, if the roles were reversed, there’s no doubt that you would do the same. But that isn’t the point.

No. The point is that you are not impressed by the audacity of this stranger, and you are going to make sure that this distaste is known.

Grumbling to yourself, you dump the still smoking cookies in the trash can. It’s a shame, really. You’d thought you were doing so well, too. You thought this would be your chance to prove Minho wrong. Minho. Oh, he would be having an absolute hay day if he were here right now, and the thought only makes your scowl deepen.

“Well,” your neighbor calls from behind you, causing you to jump slightly. He reappears in the open door frame, sticking his neck inside, but not fully crossing the threshold into your apartment. “She’s not thrilled, but the alarm didn’t trigger the main system’s sprinklers, so you’re good.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

The man smiles. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly were you trying to make anyway?”

An embarrassed blush casts itself over your cheeks. “Chocolate chip cookies,” you mumble, not meeting his eyes.

He lets out a burst of laughter, smiling widely. You can’t help but notice that he had a cute smile, dimples on both of his cheeks, eyes crinkled. Not that you were looking. Not that you cared, obviously.

“How’d you manage to mess up chocolate chip cookies that badly?”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging your shoulders helplessly. “You tell me.” You gesture towards the oven. Your neighbor smirks, walking inside your apartment. He bends down in front of your oven, before taking a look inside.

“Well, nothing seems to be wrong in there…” he starts, before glancing up at the set temperature. “Oh,” he states, before looking back at you, his eyes full of pity. “Oh boy.”

“What?” You ask defensively.

“The temperature. You forgot to convert it from celsius to fahrenheit. See?” He says, leaning away from the oven to give you a closer look. “So you thought you were cooking them at 350 degrees fahrenheit, when in reality they were at over 600 degrees.”

“Oh my god,” you say, smacking your palm against your forehead. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t know,” the guy shrugs. “You could have burnt your apartment down, so I’d consider it a win. You’re lucky I got here on time.”

You cast him a scowl, although you can’t seem to relinquish the faintest hint of a smile creeping onto your lips. You know damn well you wouldn’t have started a fire, and that the man showing up really didn’t stop anything but an uncomfortable conversation with the front lady. You are also sure that he is fully aware of this too, which makes your smirk grow wider. Alright, you’ll play along.

“Right, what ever would I do without you?” you say sarcastically, causing your neighbor to playfully roll his eyes. He leans against your kitchen counter, relaxing slightly.

“Does my saviour have a name?” You ask, opening the fridge to take a look at what’s inside. You feel your stomach rumble, taking a glance at the clock to see that it was already past 9:00.

“It’s Chris,” he smiles, leaning over your shoulder. “So what are you going to eat, now that you’ve successfully butchered the easiest recipe known to man?”

“Hey!” You snipe. “That is certainly not the easiest recipe known to man.”

“Fine, fine,” Chris says, putting his hands up in defense. “Maybe not the easiest, but it’s definitely up there. But putting that aside, what are you going to eat? Because I genuinely don’t think I’ve ever seen a fridge so empty.”

You want to quip back at him, but he’s right. Minho usually does the grocery shopping, but because of Jisung’s party tonight he wasn’t planning on cooking anything.

“Good question,” you sigh, closing the refrigerator door before leaning your back against it. “Maybe I’ll just order some take out. I don’t think my pride can handle another failure.”

Chris smiles. “Or, I have an idea,” he says, his eyes glinting. He heads over to your apartment door, and for a moment you worry that he’s leaving.

No, you’re not worried. You’re curious. That’s all. You were curious whether or not he was leaving, nothing more.

When Chris returns, he has his arms full of ingredients. Spinach, penne, tomato sauce, cream, a variety of spices. The list goes on, and he stumbles slightly, almost dropping the surplus of food onto your kitchen floor. Imagining the mess, you rush over to help him, placing the load of groceries onto the counter.

“I don’t know if you couldn’t tell before,” you say, motioning to your overflowing counter. “But I really can’t cook. I have no clue what to do with any of this.”

“That’s no problem,” Chris smiles, already separating the food into different groups. “I’ll help you.”

“No, no, no. I can’t ask you to do that,” you say, waving your hands in protest. You step in front of him, squeezing yourself between his chest and the kitchen counter, preventing him from reaching any of the ingredients. “You’ve already dealt with the desk lady for me, and brought over all these groceries. You’ve done more than enough.”

He smiles, gently placing his hands on your shoulders and effortlessly moving you to the side. “Why would I bring you these groceries if I knew you couldn’t do anything with them?” When you don’t respond, he continues. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. Just let me help you.”

You sigh in defeat, ignoring the way your heart begins to beat faster in your chest. “Alright,” you say, grabbing Minho’s cutting board from the cupboard. “Let’s do this, then.”

~~~~

An hour later, you find yourself sitting on top of your kitchen counter, Chris stationed by the stove working on the pasta sauce. You had genuinely tried to help in the beginning, you really did. But after Chris criticized your (awful) cutting technique, and said he didn’t exactly trust you to do anything else, you gave up.

Besides, you don’t have a problem watching him work. Over the last hour, you’ve come to learn that Chris is an absolute whiz in the kitchen. Moving from place to place, adding spices by intuition and nothing more. This wasn’t something you could have managed to make yourself in a million years, and it’s obvious that if you tried to assist him right now, you’d only get in the way.

Of course, you’ve learned a lot more about Chris in the last hour than just that. Where he grew up, his hobbies, what he was currently studying at the university. Music theory, as you’d learned. As cool as it sounded, Han had managed to tarnish your image of music majors, but you suppose you could give Chris a chance.

“It’s almost done,” Chris says, glancing over his shoulder to look at you.

“Thank God, I’m starving,” you reply, leaping off the counter to stand beside him.

“What, no ‘thank you, Chris?’ No, ‘what ever would I have done without you, Chris?’” He mocks offence, placing a hand on his heart.

“It’s not even done yet. I’ll thank you after I try it, I promise.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Ah, so you’re only thankful if you like it. I see how it is,” Chris says, crossing his arms in front of himself, pouting his lower lip slightly.

“Guess so,” you say, crossing your own arms mockingly. Chris smiles, those cute little dimples of his dancing across his cheeks.

Then you feel it, that little jump of your heart. The faintest skip of a beat that you’d familiarized yourself with over the last hour. That little hint of anticipation that makes you decide that you are, even if only slightly, a bit interested in Chris.

After all, he’s funny and sweet. Can carry a conversation well, and to understate it, undeniably easy on the eyes. That’s more than enough to give him a chance.

Most of all, however, you like that little flare between the two of you. The sarcasm, the banter. It doesn’t feel the same as when Minho does it, slightly condescending and done purely to harbour your annoyance. No, this is different. It is a challenge. He wants you to quip back, to push further. To make him smirk, or laugh, or roll his eyes.

“Alright, fine then,” he says, taking the large wooden spoon and scooping up some of the pasta sauce. “Tell me if this is up to par, your majesty.”

You aren’t sure if he wants you to take the spoon, or let him hold it for you as you take a bite. You decide to take the gamble, gently moving your lips around the spoon, tasting the sauce. You glance up at Chris, a small look of surprise on his face. However, you don’t miss the flash of something behind his eyes. The faintest hint of affection, interest.

The sauce itself is delicious. A perfect blend of tomato, basil and cream. You hum contently, giving him a thumbs up.

“Chris, this is amazing,” you praise, admiring the small blush that sprinkles his cheeks.

“It’s really nothing,” he says, diverting his gaze and rubbing the back of his neck, shyly.

“No, seriously,” you say, taking the spoon from his hand and scooping some of the sauce up yourself. “Try it.” You hold the spoon out in front of him, and he raises his eyebrows slightly. Your gaze remains firm. A challenge.

Hesitantly, he takes the bite, not breaking eye contact as he does so. You stare at him, watching the way his lips move around the spoon, the intensity of his gaze. The action itself should be innocent, yet you feel a warmth rise to your cheeks.

Chris swallows, taking his lips off the spoon. For a moment, neither of you say anything. You can feel the change in the atmosphere of the room. The spark between you two being brought alight.

You swallow hard. “So?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah, it’s good. Very good,” he says back, his voice low and raspy. He goes to take the spoon from you, and his hand lingers a moment, his thumb trailing the skin of your knuckles.

You feel yourself lean in slightly, fully prepared to take the leap, when suddenly he breaks away from you, eagerly taking a few steps back. He looks away, placing a hand on his face, as if he were ashamed.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I know you’re seeing someone, we shouldn’t be doing this. I’m sorry,” he babbles, completely turning away from you.

You open your mouth to say something, but no words come out. Seeing someone? Where the hell could he have possibly gotten that idea?

“Seeing someone?” You ask, incredulously voicing your thoughts. You grab him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Why do you think I’m seeing someone?”

Chris still refuses to meet your eyes, instead focusing intently on the wall behind you. “The guy that lives here- Minho - aren’t you two?”

“Minho?” You gape, contorting your face in a look of pure disgust. “Ew, gross! No! Believe me, I am not dating Minho, I’d genuinely rather stick this spoon in my eye,” you exclaim, lifting up the utensil.

At that Chris finally looks at you, wearing his own look of pure confusion. “Wait, really? But whenever I hear you guys out in the hall, the two of you are always so… flirty.”

“Flirty?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement. “If by flirty you mean he teases me literally every god damn second of every day, then yeah sure, I guess. But believe me, there is absolutely nothing romantic about that. Not in the least.”

Chris shakes his head, a smile forming at the corners of his lips. “Wow. I am such an idiot,” he sighs, a rediscovered lightness to his tone.

“No, no. Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him. “Anyone could make that mistake, I guess. It’s really no big-”

“No, it’s not just that,” he cuts you off. “That’s why I’ve never talked to you before now.”

“You never talked to me because you thought that me and Minho were dating?” You ask, slightly confused. Even if you were dating, you didn’t see why that would stop him from starting a conversation with you. “Why?”

“Well,” he sighs, his cheeks reddening further. “I thought you were pretty, and based on the way you always quipped back at him, clever and funny as well. I don’t know, it just felt wrong to try and build a friendship with you, knowing how I already felt a little....”  

You smirk, drawing yourself slightly closer to him. “A little what?”

His smile transforms itself from embarrassed to a sly grin of his own. “A little into you, I guess.”

“It really is a shame,” you shrug, trying to hide the excitement building in your chest. “Because here I was, thinking my cute neighbor had some irrational grudge against me.”

Chris leans in, so the two of you are only inches apart. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, smell the strong fragrance of his cologne. Sharp with lemon zest and mint.

“We could always make up for lost time, you know,” he says, his eyes flashing with mischief.

That is all the invitation you need to break the space between the two of you. You press Chris’ lips against your own, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other along the line of his jaw. His lips are soft, you notice. Tender in the slow rhythm the two of you develop.

He runs his hands up along your figure. One of them finding itself locked in your hair, the other placed firmly on the curve of your lower back. Gently, he leads the two of you away from the stove, placing you so that your back is pressed up against the kitchen counter.

You run your hand down along his chest, reveling in the groan he let’s out as your fingers trail down his lower abdomen. The sound is electricity pulsing through you, charging the room and igniting the atmosphere around the two of you.

His lips leave yours, trailing your jaw before making their way down your neck. Each individual kiss is slow and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You take a deep breath to stable yourself, and it does not go unnoticed.

Chris smirks, shifting his gaze to meet yours. His eyes are dark, his pupils blown out with desire. “You know, if we keep this up, the pasta sauce is going to burn,” he says, letting his fingers trail along your collarbone.

“Let it,” you shrug. “I wasn’t hungry anyways.”

Chris laughs at this, leaning forward so his face brushes the crook of your neck. “Yeah, right,” he says, allowing his lips to dust your skin. Suddenly, he bites down, not enough to break through the skin, but certainly enough to leave a small mark.  

You laugh, running your hands in his hair, half-heartedly pulling him off of your neck. “Hey! That hurt,” you exclaim, only half serious.

“Sorry,” he grins, before crashing his lips into yours once again. The pace between the two of you is much faster now, each kiss more passionate. More promising. Your desire rings through you, clouding your mind in a hazy fog of lust. It is dizzying, just how much you want him at this moment.

You're certain he feels the same way, given in how tightly he grips your thigh, his breath ragged every time you break apart. It is messy. Greedy. The two of you so deeply wanting more. More of each other.

You’re about to ask if he wants to move this to the bedroom, when suddenly the apartment door swings open. It’s almost comical, how quickly you and Chris break apart, springing to opposite ends of the kitchen.

“I hate to say it, but you were right,” Minho calls as he walks inside, not yet glancing up from his phone screen. “Shit got out of hand. Someone managed to break the pool table, don’t even ask how, I don’t know either. Almost gave Felix an aneurysm. I swear the kid was about to cry, poor guy. Han had to shut everything down. So you really didn’t miss out on-” Minho stops as he sees Chris, a confused yet bemused expression crossing his face.

“Oh, hey Chan,” he says, causing you to give Chris a look.

“A nickname,” Chris mouths to you, as discreetly as he possibly can.

“What are you doing over here?” Minho asks him, crossing his arms and leaning against the door. He has that smug smirk on his face that makes you want to punch him.

“Oh, well…” Chris starts, casting you a glance. “Y/N made some food, and there was too much of it, so she invited me over.”

“Really?” Minho asks, caught off guard. He walks past you and Chris, staring at the pasta and sauce currently sitting on the oven burners. “You’re saying Y/N made this?”

“Well, yeah?” Chris says, feigning confusion. “Of course, I wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why?”

You have to stop yourself from laughing, looking at the expression of utter bewilderment on Minho’s face. Minho glances at you, narrowing his eyes, before sighing.

“Well then, I guess you proved me wrong on two things tonight, Y/N,” he says, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he begins to scoop some of the penne into his dish.

“Oh, you said there was a lot,” Minho responds, raising one eyebrow. “Can I not have some?”

“Sorry, go ahead,” you say, still slightly flustered by the abruptness of his entrance. Minho finishes filling his bowl and takes a seat at the kitchen island. As he begins to eat, the room is filled with a rather tense silence. You and Chris share an awkward look, unsure of what to do next.

Minho looks up from his dish, glancing between the two of you.

“Yeah, okay,” he says, grabbing his bowl and standing up from his chair. “I’m going to go eat this in my room. Have fun you two.”

Before you can say anything, Minho disappears around the corner, down the hallway leading to his room. You turn back towards Chris. The two of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“He’s a bit of a mood-killer, huh?” You say, grabbing two bowls from the cupboard, offering him one.

Chris nods in thanks as he takes the bowl from your hands. “Just a little bit,” he laughs, beginning to scoop some of the pasta into both of your dishes.

The two of you take a seat at your counter, spending the meal talking and laughing. Nothing else, the moment has passed, but that doesn’t bother you. You enjoy Chris’ presence. His quick humour and thoughtful conversation.

It really is something that you could get used to, you decide.

After you’re done eating, you walk Chris over to the door, handing him his surplus of spice bottles and leftover spinach.

“Thank you for doing all this, seriously. The food was delicious, you’re seriously gifted. And also, thank you for covering for me, I really didn’t feel like listening to Minho die laughing over the burnt cookies,” you admit.

“It’s no problem, really,” Chris smiles. He shifts all the spices over to his right arm, letting his free hand fall down to his side. Softly, he takes your hand in his, letting your fingers intertwine.

“Listen,” he continues, shyly looking up from your hands to meet your eyes. “If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, you’re welcome to come over for a proper dinner. You know, so I can show you what I can actually make when it’s not a last minute attempt at salvaging a meal.”

You smile a goofy, genuine grin. “That sounds good to me,” you say. Hesitantly, you lean forwards, planting a soft, innocent kiss on his lips.

As you break apart, he hums contently. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, thanks for today. You made my night, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Chris.” You watch as he walks over to his apartment door, which is of course, only a few meters away from your own. When he disappears into his own apartment, you sigh, closing your own door behind you. You lean against the frame, letting out a shaky breath, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve held any genuine interest in someone, you feel almost giddy.

That is until you see Minho, leaning against the corner of the kitchen wall, watching you with his cheshire smirk.

“Dinner tomorrow, huh?” He asks, walking into the kitchen and scooping himself the last of the pasta.

“What about it?” You retort, not giving in to that pestering look in his eyes.

“Oh, nothing. I’m sure it’ll be good, considering Chan clearly made this,” Minho says, shoveling some of the pasta into his mouth.

“I don’t know what you mean,” you say, grabbing two wine glasses from the cupboard.

“Save it, the lady at the front desk told me you almost set the apartment on fire,” Minho laughs as you pour the wine.

You let out a groan, handing him his glass. “God dammit.”

“Don’t blame her though,” he smiles, leaning back and taking a sip. “I wouldn’t have believed you could have cooked that anyway.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“Had me fooled for a second there though,” he says, patting you on the head. “But more importantly, you like Chan huh?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right. Nice hickey, by the way,” he smirks, raising his eyebrows.

You pull up the collar of your shirt, casting him a glare. “Okay, maybe I do,” you shrug. “What’s it to you?”

“Nothing,” he replies, before taking a second to think. “Just please don’t fuck him or anything tomorrow. Walls are thin.”

You laugh, taking your glass of wine and flopping yourself back down on the living room couch.

“Shut up, Minho.”

~

thanks for reading loves <3

[clairecrive]

Hello beautiful person! Do you take requests which ask you to write a second chapter for your writings? If you do, may I ask a second chapter for "Rare"? And if you don't could you please let me know so I can be careful for another time when I ask a request?

I hope this is not something that disturbes or irritates you. I love your writing, it is beautiful and sometimes I read your pieces over and over again. 😁

Thanks for blessing us with your writing. Have a nice day.💕

A/n: First of all anon, thank you so very much for your sweet words! They mean the world to me <3 Also, your request could never irritate me! I love them and I love the fact that you consider me half a decent writer enough to send me your thoughts <3 I'm sorry it took me so long to get around this but I hope you like this and are still around to read it x

I've decided to pair it with a request for juicy time with Eddie. there's no actual smut but it's suggestive let's say.

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff,

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @for-bebbanburg, @crazyclownchick ( fill in this form to be added to my taglist)

Part 1

TOM HARDY MASTERLIST

You weren't exactly new to heartbreak. You had been a teenager after all but your experience with adult relationships had not been that good either.

You knew that you'd be over Eddie even if it may take you some time. It's true that you had only been dating for a few months but you had really grown attached to him. It was one of the things you hated about yourself: the way you got attached way too soon, way too much.

Especially, in this case, seeing as Eddie hadn't been 100% in it in the beginning you had hoped that the more time you'd spend together, he'd see that you weren't so bad and that he'd grow to care for you. At least a little bit.

Turns out you were wrong.

As much as you hated being wrong, the thing that hurt you the most was that despite your best efforts, Eddie still didn't think you were enough for him. And how could you be when the benchmark was perfect Anne?

You stood no chance. You had been a fool for even trying. And now you were experiencing the burn for your foolishness.

This had happened often enough that you had developed a routine for dealing with heartbreak:

1) crying your heart out and indulging your sadness with whatever helped (mostly comfort food and Friends)

2) enough with indulging, it was time to pick yourself up. No more overeating although you still allowed yourself to cry if you felt like it

3) "I don't need him anyway" phase where you'd make a mental list of how your life was before and after whoever you had broken up with to remind you that they weren't as important as you made them out to be

4)"put yourself out there again" phase where you started going out again with the intention of meeting new people or simply having a good time.

As of this time, you were in phase 3. You noticed that there were some of Eddie's things littering around your apartment. So, you picked up a box and collected them with the intention of returning them to him, effectively closing this chapter. As you did, you made that aforementioned list. This time, with the added reason for your break up, it was a bit easier to remind you why breaking up had been the right decision.

When your hands closed on your favourite hoodie of his though, you couldn't help the pang in your heart as a flood of memories hit you.

You and Eddie doing a Friends marathon every Friday night.

Eddie giving this hoodie when you were sick because he knew how much you liked it.

Eddie taking the hoodie off for a whole other reason almost ripping it...

No.

Shaking your head, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Enough of that. It was over.

It was only a week later that you finally got the time to come around Eddie's apartment. Sure, you could have called him, he could have come himself to pick them up or you could have dropped them at his job but that would have required you to call him. And recalling how that went last time you tried to reach him you decided you'd spare yourself the humiliation of him not ghosting you again.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and knocked on his door.

"Y/n." You were met with a dishevelled Eddie.

He looked like shit but what's new with him. He also looked very surprised to see you at his door and you also couldn't blame it for that. You would have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.

"Hi, Eddie," you hated your treacherous voice that wobbled when you spoke. Clearing your voice, you tried again.

"Sorry to come here unannounced. I've found some of your stuff in my apartment and I thought you'd like to have them back." You explained as you handed him the box, his eyes taking it in for the first time.

"Oh," he paused as he considered your words. Was that disappointment in his voice? "Thank you, y/n. You shouldn't have." He smiled weakly as he took the box from you, your fingers touching briefly.

"It's not a problem, Eddie. I was just passing by anyway." You and Eddie actually lived far from each other. The truth is that there was no reason for you to be in this part of town if it wasn't for him. Eddie knew that but he was kind enough not to point that out.

He just nodded, accepting your words as he held the box close to his chest.

You awkwardly stared at each other for a while, you didn't know what to say but neither of you wanted to end this exchange quite yet. When you felt that you had been standing like a fool in front of your ex's door, you went to leave but Eddie beat you to it.

"So how have you been?" Your first reaction was to scoff at this attempt of small talk. Neither of you was very good at it. And truthfully, it was rich coming from someone who had not made any effort to keep in contact with you even before your breakup.

The scroll of your shoulders was the only answer Eddie got. You weren't in the mood to pretend nor did you want him to know how you were still suffering for him.

"I should ask that to you." You reverted the question to him. He really didn't look well.

"yeah, it's been a rough couple of weeks," he confessed scratching the back of his head.

"That, I don't find it hard to believe," you hummed as your eyes took him in, really took him in since you knocked at his door. You could also see behind him that his apartment was a mess.

"Yeah, don't have to worry about me though. I'm fine."

"Of course." You nodded at his dismissal, remembering harshly the situation you were in."Well, I'm going to go now. Take care." Cold but still polite you turn around, ready to put this -Eddie and this exchange- behind you.

"Y/n, wait!" he called when you were about to climb down the staircase. "Do you want to have a drink or something?" Stay for a while? he meant but didn't dare to say.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Eddie." You called over your shoulder, hand still on the railing.

"Please, I owe you an explanation." You didn't know if it was the desperate note in his voice or the fact that he really looked like shit but you turned around almost convinced.

"Don't you think it's too late for that, Eddie?"

"Maybe it won't change anything between us but you deserve to know." You knew Eddie and you knew how much he cared about transparency and honesty. This may not mean that you were going to get back together but he was right, you deserved an explanation.

"Okay," you agreed as you walked back and then into his apartment. Eddie closed the door behind him and set the box he was still holding down behind the coat hanger.

The sneak peek you had before was definitely right: Eddie's apartment was even messier than usual.

"Why does it look like a tornado hit your home?" You couldnìt help but point out. You knew Eddie wasn't that bothered by tidiness but this too much even by his standards.

"That would be my fault," a new voice answered you.

At first, you didn't register the difference in tone or accent even though you should have had because Eddieìs voice wasnìt that low or raspy. But then a black tendril entered your vision field catching your attention making you turning your head to better inspect it.

What.the.fuck??

"Eddie?" You asked perplexed, eyes fixed on this thing? even if you were addressing Eddie.

"Y/n meet Venom, Venom meet y/n." He gestured awkwardly with his hands.

"It's so nice to meet you, Eddie's always thinking about you, you know? It's a bit annoying." this time the voice didn't come from a tendril but a face. A fucking alien face with long sharp teeth and wide white eyes.

His words went straight over your head. How the fuck was this true? What were you even seeing? Did this thing come from Eddie's body??

"Fuck, I know I'm heartbroken but now I'm even seeing things?"

"Y/n," Eddie tried to get your attention. You thought you had only thought that but apparently, you had spoken the words. "You're not seeing things, this is part of the explanation I owe you."

"I think it's better if you sit," he said motioning to his couch when you did nothing but stare at Venom. Prompting by Eddie though, you sat down and listened as he spoke.

He told you everything. About Carton Drake about his project with aliens, about Venom and their rather troubled relationship. He even explained how Anne had got involved and how she and Danny had helped him.

It was definitely a lot to take in. But somehow, the thought that he could be lying to you never crossed your mind. The proof was right in front of you, wasn't it? Venom, as he had introduced himself, stood next to Eddie while he spoke. It had never spoken again and you were inwardly thankful for that. That he was giving you space to digest all of this.

"Why didn't you tell me when you came around that day, Eddie?" You asked once you thought you had wrapped your head around it.

"I didn't want you to drag you into this mess," he said with a shrug, head cast down he didn't meet your eyes.

You didn't know how you felt about all of this yet but you nodded anyway. Well, there was nothing you could do anymore, could you? He had already taken care of everything on his own and it wasn't like you had any right to worry about him anymore.

"Thank you for explaining, Eddie. I appreciate your honesty." Did this change anything for you?

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough of if Anne meant more to me than you did. That's not true but I didn't know how to tell you that without telling you what was happening." He nervously fiddled with his fingers without meeting your eyes.

You could see his point now that you knew what happened. Still, it hurt you that he decided to just keep you out of it without a word. He could have at least told you that something was going on, that he didn't or couldn't tell you anything - not right now. You would have understood and given him space. Did he really act like this to keep you safe or was it a way to dismiss you?

"I don't know if this changes things, Eddie. You still turned up to her when a major life-threatening event happened. I think this tells me everything that I need to know." You point out after a while, eyes fixed on the end of your shoes.

"She has been involved from the moment we broke up, Y/n. Hell, this was the reason we broke up in the first place." Eddie's head snapped up at your words. He looked surprised at your words like he couldn't believe that you thought Anne's involvement had been something he had actively sought out.

"That may as well be true, Eddie but still, you didn't tell me even after everything settled down. If I hadn't come around to give you your stuff I still would be none the wiser."

"I was afraid, y/n. How could I come back to you after how much I had hurt you? 'Sorry if I went m.i.a. for a while, I was infected with a parasite who knows permanently with me?' Come on, y/n, I wouldn't take me back either." Now upset, Eddie started to gesticulate frantically to prove his point. His eyes flickered between yours, he leaned toward you, his hands a touch away from yours as if he wanted to touch you but was preventing himself from doing so.

"I'm not saying I would have believed you straight away but still- aliens are way better than self-loathing you know?" You scoff at him- why was he so upset? He wasn't the one who had been beating himself up since that fight for being a worthless piece of shit, was he?

"I know I've never done a good job at showing you but I do care about you. Deeply." Almost as if he couldn't bear to not be touching you any longer, Eddie now reached for your hands. His hold on them tightening as he spoke the words.

You looked at him for a moment. Aside from that fight, your relationship with him had been good. The start wasn't promising, seeing as he was still taken by Anne but Eddie had treated you good. He was attentive and caring in his own way. Looking back to it now, you realized that the period where you started feeling him pulling back from you was the time when this whole alien thing had started.

But now you had settled this, right? So, could this mean...

"If I give you one more chance to show you," you spoke tentatively, enthralled by the twinkle in his eyes, "do you promise me to be fully transparent with me this time around?"

"What? Why would you do that?" He looked shocked but his eyes were hopeful.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it, Eddie?" You challenged him, arching an eyebrow.

"Like hell I am." He scoffed, a smile on his lips. "Nono, of course I do. I swear, y/n. You'll never feel like you don't matter to me again."

"Good." You gave him a small smile at the gobsmacked expression on his face. Oh, Eddie...

He does nothing but stares at you for a while. Like he hadn't seen you in a while and now that you were in front of him, he wanted to commit to his memory every little detail of your face.

"So," you said after a while, "do you plan to stare at me or would you like to get a head start on your promise?" you provoke him with a suggestive tone.

Eddie's mouth fell a little at that, Venom said something to him but you didn't understand him. Shaking his head, Eddie smirks at you.

"I would like nothing more." And with that, Eddie's lips are on yours making up for the lost time.

[captnjacksparrow]

SNS Dynamics - Sasuke's Perspective

Lengthy post ahead

On completing my rewatch of Naruto part I and part II, many things which never made sense started to make sense. One among them is the relationship between Naruto and Sasuke. I used to ask why Naruto is going so far for Sasuke. And why Sasuke is helping out Naruto even though he wants to kill him. And I used to think that Episode 478 was retconned to make the final battle ends in a draw and Sasuke somehow made to reconcile with the titular character. Yet, I instinctively felt, ‘Something is very different about them’. But on careful rewatch, all the clues which consolidate their relationship was there. The way they love each other is totally on a different level and the creator very carefully planned this from the beginning of the Manga.

Though I really don’t like the ending for making every characters into a child rearing machine at an age of 20 to make way for an abomination called ‘Boruto’, I still loved everything till Episode 479.

I wanted to discuss about both Naruto and Sasuke's perspective. But that cannot be accommodated in a single post. So, I decided to start with Sasuke. Since Naruto's side of SNS is very open and vocal, we clearly knew what is going on in his mind. But Sasuke's side is usually very subtle but much more intense than Naruto which makes it worth analyzing.

Before getting to that, for most of the characters in the Naruto universe (I mean 99%), Sasuke is a person who looks cool, aloof, rude, overbearing, blunt, genius and emotionless. And that’s the truth. Except for Itachi and Naruto. So when I say he is rude or arrogant, it is from the people’s POV.  And since I always see myself in Itachi, I see Sasuke as that adorable innocent child who is very honest but forgiving.

I strongly feel that Sasuke has some innocent enchantment towards Naruto ever since he lost his family which later transcended into a bond which cannot be put under Friendship or Bromance. Enchantment, here I meant by, is not in a sexual way but more like the unconscious need to be in the presence of other person. Like walking beside each other eternally. Or even warming up next to a campfire near a chilly beach. You don’t want to fall into the fire but just enjoy the warmth. It maybe totally a platonic love like many claims to be. But his absolute disinterest in any other characters (even just as a friend) and the following traits he shows only to Naruto are clearly not just distinctive of platonic love either. It’s completely beyond platonic.

The following are the traits which Sasuke shows only towards Naruto, could have been avoided or delegated to other characters if the creator really wanted to assert their relationship as just friendship. There are lot of subtexts and emotions which I cannot accept it under the guise of bromance or friendship. It’s just not possible. If someone you like shows all these traits to another person, you should stop thinking about that person and move on.

The traits are :

Preferential Treatment

Attentive

Protective

My body moved on its own

One and Only

Powerful Eyes

Unconscious Closeness

Preferential Treatment

This is the very basic and first thing you show to someone whom you love. Meaning, I will treat this person much different from everyone else. When I was exploring this trait, I couldn’t stop laughing in many places. Because Sasuke is such a trolling machine who mercilessly trolls people who are in his way. He also inspire certain amount of fear which makes him even more unapproachable.

He has this cold bearing where people find it extremely difficult to manage or approach him. It comes off as very rude most of the times. One such example is Sai told Sasuke that he will get along better with him than Naruto. Sasuke put a Genjutsu on him for comparing himself with Naruto. LOL.

What's more funny is most people (Sakura, Orochimaru, Kabuto, Sai, Hinata) usually talk to him politely with honorifics like 'Sasuke-kun'. But he didn't give two shits about them and shitted them all mercilessly.

Here is the infamous proposal from Sakura in part 1.

Well she deserved this one to be honest. Throughout the entire conversation Sasuke never saw her face and responded very bluntly even though she was pouring her heart out crying. There was no visible distress or sadness from Sasuke’s side.

Whereas with Naruto, in the final Valley of The End, we saw him turning towards Naruto and answer him properly when Naruto asked the same question of what Sakura asked. There were so many emotions throughout the battle and Sasuke’s pain of leaving Naruto was clearly shown. Which explains the difference of where Sasuke keeps Naruto in his heart.

The following is the one from Chunin Exams prelims where Sakura is begging for him to quit with tears. The response is an usual 'Stay out of my business'.

Me: Sasuke!!!! Even I don't know how to approach you!!!! I understand you don't like to talk unnecessarily so you just shitted on Sai. But Sakura is your teammate, isn't it?

And then there is this little orange blonde who literally trolls Sasuke.

I really thot Sasuke was going to trash Naruto too, like he could have easily said, 'Naruto, you should also stay out of my business'.

But then

These words are something precious for Naruto. He wished for these words to come from Sasuke someday in his lifetime. But not at that time. And he was truly shocked and very excited. Believe me, when watching that scene, it was really great. But while making analysis like this, it’s absolutely hilarious.

This dynamics is similar to

Sakura: *cries unbearably* Sasuke-kun, I am worried about you. Don’t act so strong.

Sasuke: Shut up. Mind your own business.

Naruto: Bastard! She is worried about you.

Sasuke: Alright, I love you. Now shut up.

ROOOFFFFL :-D

I thought all these childhood bickers were over by part 1 and we will never see it in part 2.

Nope. I was wrong. Kakashi and Sakura were the scapegoats here.

Here's another round of applause from Naruto.

And I honestly cannot comprehend what was going on in Sasuke's mind and why he is really rude to Sakura and Kakashi. It seems he was really irritated by their presence or he maybe thinking they were useless or both.

When Naruto asks him something, he responds without any insults. What baffles me most is that during Infinite Tsukuyomi, Sasuke wanted to kill Naruto for his Revolution and awaiting his fated battle. And yet he answers him properly.

Can you see the pattern here?

He shits on people asking some question even with an utmost polite attitude but when Naruto asks the same question he was like "Alright Sweetie, Am gonna answer anything you want and say anything you like".

The following is the beginning of everything where Naruto can't even swear properly but still Sasuke couldn't even bother.

In short, the way he treats Naruto is quite different and hilarious when compared to the others. With his cold bearing, he absolutely has no need to put up with Naruto's outburst but he still accepts without a care every time. RIP to those souls who got the short end of the stick.

He must have an extreme tolerance towards Naruto's tirades to the point where he can never insult him back. And I also believe 100% that, nobody dares to make such frequent insults on Sasuke to his face except Naruto.

I know SK shippers jump in here to say Naruto is not the only one. But still the dynamics between Karin and Sasuke is simply a mirror image of Naruto and Sasuke, probably she reminded him of Naruto and hence made some exceptions for her because Sasuke never gives a damn about any other clan other than his own, but when Kabuto tells him Karin belongs to Uzumaki clan, he was shocked. I am pretty sure the only other Uzumaki member he knew is none other than Naruto.

Now, does this means he is in super love with Naruto? No.

But the way he treats every other characters and how he treats Naruto exclusively speaks volumes and this trope shouldn’t have existed in the first place. The creator should have made Sasuke treat both of his teammates equally which could’ve deflected the shipping angle. 

Attentive

Am not talking about how attentively he analyzes his enemies in the battles. Of course, in that department, Sasuke flies high. This is about how attentive he is to Naruto to the point where he can deduce what Naruto thinks and how Naruto looks without the need to communicate with him.

I know Sasuke suspected Sakura was acting strange before Chunin Exams when she said 'Good Morning' with some hesitation. But the difference here is that Sasuke can identify Naruto without even talking to him.

Funny thing here is that Sasuke was sitting somewhere far behind from Naruto and yet he could pick up Naruto getting freaked out without seeing his face.

Who could forget about the famous ‘Where’s real Naruto?’ episode during Chunin Exams?. It would’ve been fine if this happened once. But the creator went ahead and made this thing happen twice under entirely different situations. And everytime Sasuke can find fake Naruto without fail. This scene conveys Sasuke is very observant towards Naruto’s appearance & fighting skills (the way he evades an attack).

Now, being attentive to someone is not a special thing which attributes to love. But considering Sasuke’s personality who is aloof and focused on his own world, knowing Naruto like the back of his hand  is way too descriptive. Only someone who really understands the other person or constantly paying attention can find out such subtle changes. It doesn’t end here.

This is the battle between Gaara and Naruto. Where Naruto was literally confused about how to save his friends from Gaara who is much more powerful. And yet Sasuke can find Naruto’s mood just by seeing him.

Me: Yes, Sasuke!!! Gaara happened to pass by Naruto and forgot to kill him on a whim!!! So, Naruto is scared to the shit!!

Also Me: You guys always bicker with each other and are not best of friends. Sasuke!!! How could you analyze his mood just by looking at Naruto????

In Shippuden, There’s no inner monologue like the above, but whenever Naruto appears before him (Orochimaru’s hideout, Bridge, War arc), Sasuke gives his undivided attention to him. He even went so far as to advice him to pay attention to the battle. And I was like “Wait!!! you wanted to kill him... why pay attention to him at all? Geez”.

As much as you want to think that Sasuke doesn’t care about anyone, he does care about Naruto to the point where he doesn’t want him to be worried. How thoughtful just for a ‘teammate’.

How did Sasuke knew that Naruto would worry about him?, I wonder.

But all these things started from this

This boy has been noticing Naruto from way back when he was around 7 when he lost his family. Of course he would know every little things about Naruto because for some undefinable reason he couldn’t stop paying his attention to Naruto. A lineup of girls vying for his attention because of his cool appearance, whereas Sasuke simply loved Naruto without any reservations but because of his childish and warm personality which reminded him of his family.

‘I couldn’t stop paying attention to you’  and in some translations the words were ‘I couldn’t take my eyes off you’. Either way, these words are not for someone you see just as a friend let alone a brother.

Protectiveness

I can go on and on about how protective Sasuke is towards Naruto. I can write a separate post about it. This is the most important aspects of this ship which makes it sail higher than any other ships.

Of course, this is the Ninja world where people wants to protect each other and at the same time kill each other too. Sasuke protecting Naruto and Naruto protecting Sasuke is not too special. In fact, one of the weak and pathetic character like Sakura was saved once in every three episodes by Naruto or Kakashi or even by Sasuke sometimes.

And yet here I am mentioning protectiveness as the most important aspect of this ship. So what differentiates?

The way Sasuke protects Naruto is one of the intense thing I’ve ever seen. When I watch this series, I gained this immense ability to put myself in other characters mind just like Naruto. When I put myself in Sasuke’s mind whenever he tried to protect Naruto under different conditions, I simply cannot put their relationship under Friendship.

Here, Naruto is fighting Gaara in part 1 and Naruto was repelled by his own attack from the paper bomb. Sasuke being already battered by his curse mark bruise and he couldn’t move an inch. And yet he is shielding Naruto even though it is completely unnecessary because Naruto bumping into a tree log is completely normal. The creator even went under a lot of pain to draw that panel which took 40% of the page.

Now you may question, many characters even died protecting someone. What’s so special with just shielding?

Like Hinata jumping in for suicide before Pain, Iruka blocking Mizuki’s attack, Tsunade blocking Orochimaru, Neji dying as a ‘Love Cupid’ for hinata and Naruto.... I can cite many things here. What’s common among them all is that they were all perfectly capable of moving around and yet decided to save Naruto.

But that’s not the only point. 

Is there any need for him to save Naruto? No.

Will Naruto die if he didn’t shield him? No.

Then why? He could have spent that energy trying to do something for Sakura rather than do a pointless shielding. 

And then there is Kushina.

Naruto’s mom was already on the verge of dying as she had Kurama extracted from her body and Jinchuriki without a Tailed Beast will die. Because of Uzumaki clan’s strong life force, she could hold off for a bit longer. When kurama attacked Naruto, she shielded him with her body and saved her son from an imminent death.

Even though Sasuke didn’t die shielding him, but there is a semblance.

Both protected Naruto even when their body condition is worse. That is, Protect at all cost attitude.

I intended to put Land of the Waves arc here as it is very similar to what happens with Kushina. But that’s for an upcoming section.

Now, as a Mother her instinct to protect Naruto is very strong.

But who is Naruto for Sasuke? What makes his instinct so strong to protect someone who is not even related by his blood? Until and unless you love that person dearly you won’t do it.

That brings me to the next thing.

Yeah, it kind of looks ‘very friendly’ to give a 3 layered protection to someone who is already powered up like you and most importantly you want to kill him.(Can I say that looks really romantic?). Anyways my point is different.

What really happens here is this

It is a well established fact that Minato, the Yellow Flash is the fastest shinobi in Narutoverse. It wasn’t surpassed yet. He uses the Hiraishin No Jutsu to teleport at the speed of light. It was invented by none other than Tobirama Senju who is the fastest shinobi of his time.

We basically have two fastest shinobi in the battlefield here. And Minato being the fastest among them, definitely don’t want to blow up near his son for whom he died protecting him once. He wanted to teleport somewhere away and before he could do it, Tobirama teleported the bomb back to Obito.

What many fails to notice here is that all these things are happening in mere seconds. But Sasuke realized it real quick as usual and protects Naruto in an instant. How fast his instinct you may ask? Quicker than the two fastest shinobi on the battlefield and one among them is Naruto’s dad.

What I want to say is Sasuke’s protective instinct is quicker than Naruto’s father and similar to Naruto’s mother.

And you know, I questioned myself during the Chunin Exams arc “I think in the Zabuza arc, Naruto conveniently happened to be near Sasuke, So he protected him at the cost of his life. What if Sakura happens to be there? Would he have done the same? Maybe he would’ve died protecting her too.”

But all of my questions were thrown into drain by Sasuke as if he was able to read my mind. The answer is “Hell! I don’t care if she died. That’s her loss. I will not die for her sake.”

This is really confusing, hilarious and romantic at the same time.

Me: Sasuke!!! I understand why you want to save Jugo... Even though you abandoned him in the Land of Iron. LOL. What are you going to do with Naruto anyway when the whole world is blasted off?

He proved this again in the Kaguya’s Lava dimension too. Before you tell me that he saved Naruto because he needs him to seal off Kaguya, the previous scenario nullifies your argument.

And SS wankers shamelessly defending that Sasuke don’t want Sakura to die by Kaguya’s hands, that’s why he left her to die. Geez!!! Who the hell is Sakura to Kaguya anyway? Even if she were to die by Kaguya’s hands, it would almost look like how Obito died. It’s not bad at all. But falling into the lava pit, burning, screaming.... sssshhhh. Wake the f**k up!!!

Now how can you convince me that this is just Friendship? What’s more funny is Sasuke wanted to kill Naruto later at some point. Throughout the War Arc I was always confused as to why Sasuke even care about Naruto at all? He didn’t care about him ever since he left him 3 or 4 years ago and he doesn’t have to. After all everyone have their own paths to walk on.

Even if I put myself in Sasuke’s mind and see Naruto just as a friend whom I want to kill, I wouldn’t go under so much pain to save him. I would feel like it’s better for him to die by something else rather than me. Because I can’t bring myself to kill someone I know well.

These scenes are not just put there by chance.

Such a strong reflex to protect someone is only possible when you consider that person’s life more than yours.

Does any other ship has such things to show? I’ll wait.

Yeah Sasuke protected Sakura from Orochimaru and Gaara. But he also went so far to wait for Karin and awakened a new power to protect her. So does this means he love those girls?? No. He was just showing a team camaraderie. But it’s funny that later, he tried to kill those girls knowing full well they are unprepared to fight him. While with Naruto, it always comes with a warning. Try to understand this difference. Which is exactly why I didn’t put Sasuke saving Naruto during his Chakra training, or falling from the waterfall and many more. Because they are just a team camaraderie.

I don’t even have to compare with other ships, did Sasuke ever protected anyone like this in the whole series?. These are the things which could’ve been avoided or handled in a different way, like there was no need to emphasize on saving Naruto alone while ignoring others.

My body moved on its own

I don’t need to explain this any deeper. There are many people who says Sasuke is incapable of showing his true feelings. He is cold, rude, aloof and stoic so he always hides his feelings for everyone (mostly this line was used by Sakura wankers who wanted to portray that Sasuke always loved Sakura deeply but never shows). But they fail to understand the irony that one of the most beautiful line in this entire series was told by none other than ‘Sasuke Uchiha’, “My body moved on its own”.

Yet I find Sasuke shows his honest and heartful emotions before the people he loves. If he can show that to Itachi and Naruto, why not with Sakura?

I know those wankers try to say Sasuke repressed all his feelings until Chapter 698, so he has some romantic feelings for Sakura too. Bullshit!!!

Even though he repressed those feelings in his mind, his body always betrays him in the end and his feelings pours out from time to time. That is what this section explores about.

Man, this is the most painful GIF I have ever made.

In his battle with Itachi, he was completely consumed by the feeling of revenge and hatred for his brother. But when Itachi approached him in his final moments with an intention (seemingly) to snatch his eyes, he still couldn't push Itachi away though he could have. Sasuke just looked into his eyes and let him do whatever he was about to do.

Why?, Because he loved his brother so much once that he don't know what to do but simply embrace that moment. These are the moments your mind says to close your eyes or even run away (he totally could have) but his body will not allow him to.

This is what I meant by your body betrays yourself. Even in your darkest moments, you cannot fake. You always show your true emotions towards the person you love. The more you suppress, the more it will burst out.

Here Sasuke’s hatred is glaring through his eyes because Sakura is persuading him to not do something he wants to (as always). His only motivation is to kill that man. His resolve is a real deal.

But in a matter of minutes after giving that long hateful speech with some heavy determination, when he saw that hungry blonde boy who was tied up for trying to steal food, Sasuke just acted on his own and served him food even though he was told not to which could jeopardize his career.

This bipolar dance is something to notice throughout the series and is always interesting to explore. When Sakura tries to dissuade Sasuke from something, he always retorts to insults or an angry stare. But when Naruto accidentally stands in Sasuke’s way, he always involuntarily helps him out.

In short, towards Sakura he was like “Even you cannot take that path away from me” but when turning towards Naruto, he was like “Well, I can risk everything for you at the cost of my path”.

This seals the real deal for SNS ship.

At this point, for us viewers, Naruto is just an orphan who has no friends but always carries his life with a positive spirit hoping that someday he will be accepted by everyone.

Unbeknownst the fact that he already has one person who was willing to die for him and putting all his dreams into fire.

Important thing to notice, It’s entirely at Naruto’s fault for them being in this situation. If Naruto had used a bit of brain to attack from outside the mirror, they wouldn’t have been in this situation. But still Sasuke plunged into the trap without any regrets. That’s the beauty of this scene.

What’s more thrilling is that the creator told us Sasuke loved Naruto in the very next chapter itself. 

How?

By making Haku jump before Zabuza knowing full well that he is going to die which is not very different from how Sasuke shielded Naruto.

And not only that, but by making Naruto say “He really loved you”. I got to say the creator may sucks at writing Sakura and Hinata for God only knows for whatever twisted reasons. But when it comes to male characters like Naruto, Sasuke, Itachi, Obito... he was just amazing and on another level.

How?

By indirectly drawing parallels between Sasuke and Haku in a matter of successive chapters.

By dropping indirect hints and crumbs like these to tell us, the audience, the motivations of the characters.

I always had the thought why did he risked his life for a boy who always fights with him? This became more emotional when we get to know the real reason for why Sasuke risked his life much later in chapter 698.

Having faced all the turbulent things in his life, somehow seeing Naruto doing all those childish stuffs made him feel relieved. That warmth was what he needed at that time. He wanted to escape from it but couldn’t. That’s why he embraced his warmth unknowingly in his Team 7 days by constantly reaching out to him starting from asking tips, concerned about having breakfast and training with him to climb the tree.

Sasuke even come to like Naruto more than himself and that’s why he was willing to die for him.

This feeling is definitely not a bromance or friendship. It’s an innocent enchantment you hope to last forever. Which again explains why he tolerated Naruto’s insults and hostility all those times. Because Sasuke knew those childish things were the ones he got attracted to him ever since his childhood. Rather than saying tolerated, I should use the term enjoyed. He really enjoyed those moments being bugged by Naruto for no reason.

Because just like Itachi said to Sasuke once, ‘If you are excellent you become alienated and arrogant even though you were sought after at the beginning’ . But Naruto pestering him means he is very curious about Sasuke which no one else tried. He was adored by those girls for his coolness and revered by those boys for his excellence but nobody really tried to befriend him. But Naruto tried to befriend him through Rivalry. That’s why Sasuke unconsciously started to like him. This also explains why he roasted Sakura for badmouthing him even though Naruto attacked him and tied him up earlier.

If Sasuke can show all these feelings even though he was trying to suppress it towards Naruto and Itachi, Why can’t he show a single normal feeling towards Sakura??? Because there isn’t one. Except for an old Team 7 camaraderie where he saw her as an acquaintance and nothing more.

Many NH shippers claims, but Hinata loved her ‘Naruto-Kun’. She jumped in front of Naruto to save him from Pain, when in reality she just acted selfishly and couldn’t pull out the Chakra rods. Meaning she failed whatever she was about to do.

Another interesting thing to cite for NH shippers, they claim for Naruto, Hinata is the most important person his life. Since when? With that shitty movie called ‘The Last’ with shitty retconned stuff? In all the 699 chapters he always claimed Iruka Sensei and Sasuke were the important people in his life. And you know what? For Hinata to like Naruto, he has to jump in to save her from the bullies. But for Sasuke he just saved Naruto without any validation. He saw Naruto and liked his presence and just did it. 

When you could accept that failed attempt as a love, why not accept Sasuke loves Naruto when in fact he succeeded in saving him and that too unconditionally?

This is one of the tropes which should have been avoided if the creator wanted Sasuke and Naruto to be just friends.

One and Only

This is something very special that is offered to that one person in his life. That is Naruto. Even Itachi knew it. That is the Power to influence Sasuke’s heart. This is the fact even Sasuke himself knew it and that’s why he wanted to kill him.

Now don’t compare this with the manipulation shit which Orochimaru and Obito were doing. It’s not that. Many Sasuke fanatics always blame Naruto that he is also manipulating Sasuke just like everyone. That’s totally wrong.

Manipulation is something you do by talking about some twisted facts and make the other person to do what you want to.

Naruto never did that. Ever. Whenever Naruto and Sasuke meet, they always talk about themselves and how they feel. Not the world, not Team 7 or anything. Which is exactly why Sasuke himself willingly left that space in his heart for Naruto when he left him in the Valley of the End which he badly wanted to destroy. Sasuke, of all people, know Naruto is also very honest.

Sasuke lost all his rationality when he went into darkness by stabbing Karin who was helping him in his battle with Danzo. She even replenished his chakra many times. He not only just stabbed her, after when he found her still alive, he decided to finish her off with his Chidori.

And then the pink haired bitch appears before him and started to concoct lies with malicious intent to kill him. This provoked Sasuke more and more to reach this point.

Believe me, when you are lost in darkness, all you need is a small light which can show you a path. Someone who can extend helping hands to lift you up with honesty.

Sakura, being a crass woman, riled up Sasuke further with full of nonsense.

If you want to picture the darkness,

This is exactly how Sasuke feels. He is in so much pain and don’t know how to face it or deal with it. So he started to destroy everything he sees. For him Karin, Sakura, Kakashi are all just some pebbles in his way and want to trample them as he goes. His entire life has become farce after knowing his beloved brother’s real pain and miseries. Now he has no one left from his family.

Until Naruto appears.

He may not be his family, but he is the only person left for him in this world. Which is established in many Naruto endings and even Sasuke himself accepts this with Sage of Six Paths. 

But my Cherry Blossom queen really loved Sasuke, she only wanted the good of him. My question is ‘Then why the fuck she tried to kill him? She looked at Sasuke and find that he changed. She didn’t even bothered to find out what’s going on from his side.’ Then how is this considered as wanting only good for him? 

Surprisingly Sasuke calmed down a bit, the moment Naruto appears and even started to respond to him which he didn’t before with Kakashi and Sakura. Deep down Sasuke himself knew in his heart that the path he is going through is Self-destructive. Just like Kurama tells Naruto ‘Destroy everything you see’ in the Pain arc when he sprouted upto Eighth Tail, Sasuke’s traumatic mind tells him to ‘Destroy Konoha’.

All he needed was someone to extend an helping hand to tell him what to do without any malice. Naruto did that. Just like what Minato did for Naruto in Pain arc.

After clashing Rasengan with Chidori ,they meet inside the White bubble space and Naruto talks to Sasuke which evoked all his past memories which he never wanted to awaken.

That’s why Sasuke was visibly shaken with Naruto’s words. Because those were the words which mirrors exactly how Sasuke feels too. He was surprised and shocked that Naruto also felt the same way without him ever openly confessing those feelings.

When everyone tried to kill him for his monstrosity, Naruto is the only person standing there seeing him as his friend. Just like how Iruka saw Naruto way back in 1st chapter.

Believe me, even at the depth of darkness, when you see the person you love so much, you will stop and rationalize.

That is exactly why Itachi left Sasuke in Naruto’s hands. He even admitted to Sasuke that his words will not reach him no matter what.

Sasuke may not have abandoned his ambitions at that point. But Naruto gave him a clear path. That is ‘Show all your hatred on me’ and then do whatever you want.

I know SS shippers will claim that back hug from Sakura changed his murderous behaviour during the Chunin Exams. Yes. That’s true. But right after that, when Sasuke was fighting Yoroi in a one-on-one combat, his Cursed Seal flares up again. He retracted that seal out of his sheer will and thought about both Sakura and Naruto who was freaking out without even knowing about the seal. So, it’s not only a Sakura exclusive moment. The creator even went ahead and drawn a panel asking Sakura to not say anything about the Curse Mark to Naruto. Why do that?

As far as I understand, Sasuke saw Naruto and felt the warmth of his family. He singled that out in chapter 698. When Naruto was placed in the same team as him, he started to extend his good side to his other team members as well. But the moment he decided to leave the village, he severed the ties with Sakura (was there ever one apart from considering her as a teammate?) by saying Thank You. Meaning, you helped me many times so thanks for all of that. What’s more pitiful is, he didn’t even look at her face for the entire conversation except for saying ‘You are really annoying’. There is nowhere in the manga where Sasuke singled out Sakura for making him feel anything and did something for her exclusively. It’s all in the context of Team 7.

If Sakura is the most important person in Sasuke’s life, he should have stopped the rampage the moment he saw her but instead he got riled up more and more. Which explains where Sasuke kept her in his heart. Literally nowhere. He threw her into the trash. LOL.

If Hulk can calm down after seeing Betty Ross and you call that love, why not accept Sasuke loves Naruto??

Powerful Eyes

You know, Even in real life, Our eyes always reflects our true feelings, just like how your body betrays your mind , your eyes even betray your body.

Just like how Itachi could never fake his evil brother act in his final moments.

Just like how Sasuke couldn’t turn away from Itachi when he was approaching him to seemingly snatch his eyes.

Uchiha boys being a romantic bunch, always expose their awakening/ reawakening/ evolving their Sharingan in a most distressed situation. Just like Madara and Sasuke exposed their brimming eyes for Hashirama and Naruto. But in this department, Madara is wildly romantic as always. LOL. Despite losing 3 brothers, he awakened his Sharingan only when he was breaking up with his ‘friend’. And Sasuke, he reawakened / evolved Sharingan when trying to save / breaking up with his ‘friend’. Such a Biological defect!!!!

Poor Sakura pathetically fails in this department.

Anyways this part is not about Sharingan anyway. It’s about how such a powerful eyes becomes powerless before those Blue Eyes.

Eye Symbolism is something I really enjoy exploring in this ship.

Like I mentioned earlier, Sasuke has never shown his emotions atleast starting from Part II. He usually never shows any positive emotions like happiness, laughing, pouting, love, excitement (although he has shown all these towards Itachi and Naruto) and is known for negative emotions like anger, annoyance, hatred.

Look at how Sasuke is glaring with hatred for her insensitive words. She deserved this to be honest.

Now, is there any need to show your fury towards Kabuto?

Since the beginning of the Shippuden, some facts have been established strongly:

1. Sasuke has changed by leaps and bounds in terms of his attitude and hatred.

2. Sharingan is pretty dangerous. Many characters including kurama acknowledges it. Sasuke is very adept at using his Sharingan.

Orochimaru maybe right. But he doesn’t know the weakness. LOL

His hatred has reached to a point where he couldn’t think anything rationally and started to kill everyone, just like how Naruto kicked Sakura in his 4 Tailed Kyuubi Mode engulfed with the hatred of Kurama. Meaning, to reach his goal, Sasuke will kill anyone in his path without any hesitation. This shot is the representation of this.

And yet when he saw those particular Blue eyes, he stops his rampage immediately and visibly shocked even.  That’s the look of ‘why is that blue eyes here?’

You have every right to accuse me that I am over exaggerating this scene. I am not. Even I wanted to think that way too that I am deluding myself. The creator has only consolidated my view pretty strongly.

There’s no need to emphasize on eyes at all. The anime team has went under so much pain to animate this scene in a satisfying and compelling way.

What’s more? The creator even went under further extent to draw a whole page in the manga focusing on their eye contact after the Rasengan vs Chidori clash. Meaning, Sasuke has calmed down visibly and became very easy to reason with.

Trust me, even in your darker / vulnerable moments, your eyes will reflect your true feelings to the person you love. You cannot be stubborn. 

Now did it stop here?? Nope, it happened again in the Final Valley of the End battle too.

Sasuke is usually confident of his Sharingan (rightfully so) and likes to flaunt his eyes just like Madara. He was very sure that he was going to win.

While Sasuke had a clear resolve to kill Naruto when he was showing his back, but the moment he comes close with those Blue Eyes, his heart even pounded strongly (in the anime), and lost the resolve completely which made his Sharingan retract itself unconsciously. Meaning, his eyes betrayed him.

It’s funny that not even a minute ago he was very proud of his Visual Prowess as an Uchiha and his victory is inevitable but the moment he saw those Blue eyes, he just lost. You think I am again exaggerating?. Nope!!!

Oh Dear!!! This doesn’t get more romantic than this. An inescapable gaze from those blue eyes he loved all along.

Sasuke!! What happened to your proud Uchiha eyes?. You just stole Chakra from Naruto, isn’t it? Hints like these are really heartwarming, to be honest.

My entire point is, every character from every arc hypes up Sharingan starting from Zabuza, Haku, Rock Lee, Orochimaru, Kabuto, Kurama and many more, but why put a weakness for Naruto’s eyes? 

What I really loved exploring is the way Sasuke totally expressed everything through his eyes in Episode 478.

Sasuke shows his vulnerability towards Naruto with just his eyes. These are not something you show to everyone. Even when Itachi departed finally after releasing Edo Tensei, Sasuke looked sad, shocked and pained but didn’t cry. He accepted the reality of it. The last time when we saw him crying, it was after knowing the truth of Itachi, facing towards the beach and was weeping unbearably because there was no one else for him in this world. But this time, he is next to the person whom he feels truly loved and he doesn’t mind showing it with his eyes.

Well, on multiple rewatches, the clues for their love was already dropped in the 1st Valley of the End fight itself. Sasuke already lost his resolve to kill by balling his chidori fist rather than ramming through his chest. So the feelings inside the bubble are their honest emotions like always.

The pain on the verge of their separation inside the white bubble is clearly evident from their eyes even in their monstrous form. Even in the manga it was mentioned that ‘I can’t turn my back  Vs  I am not letting you go’

But what they really wanted to be from their childhood was this.

Look at Sasuke, how entranced he was on looking at that innocent boy. Now put yourself at Sasuke’s mind. Will you ever look at your friend like that??? Now, they are probably just 7 here, am not romanticizing. But Sasuke looks enthralled innocently.

But somehow, their paths separated them for who knows how long. But the pain in both their eyes is unbearable. Even the databook, mentioned that separating from Naruto is like ripping half of his body. Well, this proves it.

Now, if they really wanted to portray this as friendship, they never should have given Eye symbolism at all. They should have gone with ‘I was always jealous of you’ thing, like they portrayed in that filler episode 450.I would’ve gladly accepted it as friendship. Because that’s how friends behave when they are jealous and I wasn’t feeling any romance at all. There’s no need of that lengthy monologue on how he was always looking at Naruto and felt pain.

I am telling you, I won’t be looking at my friend like this. 

Unconscious closeness

Remember, I’ve written in the beginning of the post that Sasuke enjoys the warmth from Naruto. Meaning, he likes that person’s presence unconsciously and want to be near him. Sasuke proved this many times.

This is the most intense and confusing section I have to dissect for this post. But it’s the most entertaining nonetheless, atleast for me.

Starting from the Land of the Waves arc, here Sasuke is speed walking to match up with Naruto.

Initially I thought, he is trying to be competitive. But instead of walking ahead of Naruto to show who is faster, he just walks beside him. I find this really hilarious and adorable. This just shows Sasuke likes Naruto’s presence so much so that he wants to walk beside him.

Now many SS shippers tries to make this scene for themselves, when it is clearly not.

If you notice Sasuke in the Bell Training, he compares his strength difference with Kakashi and determines to get stronger. Same with Might Guy, he compares Might Guy’s speed with his own Sensei. Meaning, he respects people with strength. Naturally, he should’ve asked her and Sakura would have given him tips wholeheartedly. Because she really succeeded in that training.

Why bother to ask a deadlast?

The only reason I could find is that he wants to befriend him in his own stubborn way. But Poor Soul!!! He didn’t get the tips anyway. LOL. But despite getting the short end of the stick, he never hold it against him. Just like he never held anything against Naruto when he tied him up in Episode 3. All he did was just flaunt how he escaped.

Pretty cool for a 12 year old kid. Because If I were Sasuke, I would hold it for sure.

Once again Sasuke proves how he can care Naruto in his own adorable way.

He could’ve said ‘I am going to train too” if he really intended to train. There is no need to say ‘Going for a Walk’ and ask Naruto about breakfast. This explains that Sasuke simply missed the boy’s prolonged absence and reached out to him in his own cute way.

Now all these doesn’t mean he was in love with him. It’s just a childish attraction which makes him act like that involuntarily.

I just added this GIF to compare with the next scene.

Now Shikamaru falling on Naruto in an unconventional way doesn’t look anywhere romantic. Instead it’s the opposite. They are pretty friendly here.

But Sasuke’s approach to Naruto does looks undeniably sensual and I couldn’t deny the sexual tension that brings with it. (Even when I watched it for the first time having no idea of shipping anyone, I lowkey got creeped and thought, ‘Sasuke!! What have you become? ’)

This scene is something even I can’t dissect. Because honestly I don’t know. Sasuke is a person who never appreciates physical touches nor does he initiates either.

I get this crazy femme fatale vibe when seeing Sasuke with his sexy costume landing at a speed of lightning with his hands wrapped around Naruto and taunting near his ear about what was he doing there? The only reason I could think of is that maybe he missed him for 3 years which made him go unconsciously so close near Naruto. It’s also funny that he could’ve shoved his sword into Naruto’s heart before landing and no one could’ve batted an eyelid.

Damn you, Kishimoto!!! Is this scene absolutely necessary??? What are you trying to convey? Why do you give Sasuke, a sexualized aura?? I understand you love this character so much and you want this character to be desirable among women. Yeah, you succeeded by making Karin behave like a woman in heat, the moment they met. But instead of letting her get close to him, you made Sasuke to say ‘You... Don’t get so close’ whereas with Naruto, you made Sasuke to go willingly touch him in a half hugging stance. Geez!!!

Here comes the most interesting part in this section.

It may seem irrelevant at the beginning but trust me, it will make sense later.

Before that, I would like to appreciate the creator and especially the anime team to bring the battle sequence so lively and different in its own way. If you notice the purpose of every battle that happened in Naruto series, each carries it own meaning and deliberately distinguished. How you ask?

The fight between Deidara vs Sasuke.

Logically Deidara should be dead in the Gaara retrieval arc itself. There is no point for him to chase Sasuke who killed Orochimaru to whom Deidara had nothing to do with. It didn’t impact the story in any way. But the purpose of that battle is to show how far Sasuke has grown up in those 3 years. The way he can use his Sharingan to analyze his enemies abilities and weakness so quickly and take multiple steps ahead, the way he can use Genjutsu and other incredible jutsus in his arsenal were a visual treat.

Now, let’s analyze Sasuke’s arsenal of Jutsus. He can do Teleportation Jutsu, a decent Genjutsu, Chidori Senbon (needles), Raikiri (Chidori sword which ranges to 5 metres), Chidori Nagash (Chidori from his whole body), Transformation Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu Shuriken Jutsu with wire works, Kirin, Gokakyu No jutsu, Sword fighting, basic Hand-to-Hand fighting (I’ve never seen him do it ever since the Chunin Exams with Orochimaru), Archery fighting, Susanoo, Amaterasu and all the Rinnegan abilities.

Based on the jutsus he learned so far and how he applies in every battle, it all confirms two things:

Sasuke is a Medium-Long Range Shinobi

Sasuke’s battles are usually based on his Cleverness

Let’s go for Naruto. He can do Teleportation Jutsu, Sexy Jutsu, Harem no jutsu, Rasengan, Rasen Shuriken, Oodama Rasengan, Biju Dama, Tailed Beast Mode, Kage Bunshin No jutsu, Sage mode jutsu, Frog Kumite, Better Hand-to-Hand combat skills (better than Sasuke), Transformation Jutsu, Substitution Jutsu and all his Six path abilities.

Compared to Sasuke, Naruto’s jutsu variety is very less. But for every 4 punches from Sasuke equals 1 powerful punch from Naruto. Analyzing all of them,

Naruto is a Close-Range Shinobi except for his Rasen Shuriken

Naruto’s battles are usually based on his Jutsu Timing and Unpredictability

Now, Let’s rewind back to 3 years and look at the 1st Valley of the End battle. That battle was cleverly choreographed which carried very intense emotional baggage. Things we never knew about those boys until then were openly admitted and acknowledged. That is, for Sasuke, Naruto became his closest friend. For Naruto, he always wanted to be Sasuke’s friend way back when he was 6 or 7. For both, they already have some unexplainable bond by just looking at each other and smiling secretly.

The theme of that battle started as Am going on my own path vs I can’t allow you to tread on that dangerous path and ended up with I want to break our bond vs I don’t want to.

Now, this posture represents, Naruto is the one who pursues Sasuke to stop him from whatever he was about to do. Meaning, Naruto is the one who is constantly reaching out and Sasuke as usual kicks him out violently, that is he is pushing him away. That’s the essence of the whole battle.

Considering all the battles in the Naruto universe, I categorize them as follows:

Best Calculated (and emotional) battle - Itachi vs Sasuke

Best Hand-to-Hand combat - Kakashi vs Obito (what a fight it was!!!)

Best Mega Powered Up battle - Hashirama vs Madara

Best Emotional battle - Naruto vs Sasuke (1st valley of the end)

Best Unpredictable/Entertaining battle - Naruto vs Pain

Despite having all the potential to fulfill the above categories, The Final Valley of the End Battle never bested in any of them.

As analyzed before, the boys have grown up to greater heights. I expected a battle between Cleverness of Sasuke Vs Unpredictability of Naruto

But what I observed was something so intense. That is Unintentional closeness.

This battle symbolizes one thing: I am going to kill you to get lonely vs I won’t let you kill me because you will be alone.

Being a long range fighter, I expected Sasuke to go for this.

If you have to kill someone you love, it is best to keep your distance. Sasuke knows this full well when he battled with Itachi. Except for some Sword fighting, he maintained a certain distance to fight Itachi throughout, until the very end.

But when fighting Naruto, all I got was this.

That’s when I finally understood that this posture means, the fight is very personal. Which means, Sasuke or Naruto won’t be fighting by sitting on top of each other with their enemies or anyone else. That’s just between them alone.  

There was no analysis or cleverness from Sasuke’s side or any Unpredictability from Naruto. It was very bland and Sasuke looked clueless throughout the fight.

It started with some boxing style combat, including stealing hand seals and then some power punches. Very quickly it propels to Susanoo vs Tailed Beast mode. I expected some Hashirama vs Madara level power battle.

But all we saw there was this.

I mean, Come on!!! Man. Even the most Crazy and openly Romantic Uchiha, Madara himself never fought like this in Susanoo with Hashirama (Though Madara must be thinking ‘Damn Hashirama! I should’ve tried this with you’. LOL). Those mega battles carried variety of tactics.

Another thing I noticed was, Sasuke is the one who does lots of talking and constantly pursuing Naruto. Whereas Naruto is uncharacteristically quiet for the most part. 

And finally it leads to this.

Sasuke was unconsciously getting closer and closer to Naruto which is the opposite of what he wants to do. Because of that very closeness, he couldn’t look at his eyes with his Sharingan and eventually got an uppercut. It’s like Sasuke was screaming, ‘Hate me’ and Naruto was like ‘Keep talking’.

Every jutsu he had for attacking from a long-range were forgotten. He didn’t even try to put Naruto under Genjutsu. I mean with his Rinnegan, he was capable of putting all the 9 Tailed Beasts into a powerful Genjutsu. Why didn’t he try that with Naruto? There was no Chidori Stream or Lightning Blade.

I can imagine Naruto doing close range fights with someone or even sitting on top of the enemy. Example, part I, Naruto head bumped Gaara. He was literally fighting with his Shadow Clones against a Monster so he had to get closer. Naruto monstrously punching Deidara not knowing the fact that it was a clay clone.

But Sasuke??? Can you imagine Sasuke sitting on top of the enemy and punching to pulp??? No way. Not a chance.!!!

In one way or other way, Sasuke was always in the close proximity with Naruto throughout the battle and touching each other which is totally uncharacteristic of him when compared to his other battles.

Every battle he ever fought was always at a distance which is the clear representation of his own character. He is calculative, analytical, precise and moves fluidly with a flair like a true Ninja unlike Naruto who is always reckless, noisy, powerful and clumsy. 

Sasuke is someone who never lets his emotions get ahead in the battle, unlike Naruto. This is evident from the War when he was yelling at Naruto to stop worrying about Hokage as they were Edo Tensei who can regenerate. Even when fighting with Itachi, he calculated every move and attacked Itachi without any emotions except at the very end. Sasuke in this final battle forgot who he was and telling us viewers “Am just gonna get closer to Naruto and punch him hard”.

In short, Sasuke completely forgot all his battle tactics he had with Itachi and let his emotions get ahead of his cleverness and got himself closer to Naruto which eventually ended up weakening his resolve to kill him. This is what I meant by Unintentional Closeness.

Anyways, what I understood was, the creator didn’t put all this by without any meaning. It’s all very deliberate and drawn carefully.

Moving onto the final and the most defining moments of SNS.

When I watched this scene for the first time, I can’t comprehend the exact meaning. And I forgot about this later because of my excitement to know what happens next. But what I understood on my rewatch is that, the feelings exchanged here is very pure and innocent but distressing.

Sasuke already lost his resolve to kill by not ramming Naruto with Chidori instead balled up his fist. So he is not contemplating whether or not to kill Naruto.

Sasuke made every effort to leave Naruto and succeeded in it too. But somehow, accidentally, when faced with a person whom he considers so precious in such a close proximity, despite have a stinging pain in his arm, he is feeling the warmth he once felt. He just wants that warmth to prolong for some more time and he can’t able to evade it. So he totally gave in to that desire and feeling it unconsciously. Sasuke always watched Naruto (unbeknownst to him) and felt warmth, relief and weakness. This scene is the symbolic and innocent representation of all those feelings when he saw Naruto and he is exeriencing it for the final time. 

Does this means, does Sasuke wants to kiss him? No.

But every symbolism of that being happening is there. It’s just all open to interpretations. The creator could show us how Sasuke fell on his knees and staring at Naruto intently but never intended to show when he got up and left. I don’t understand this twisted mind of the creator.

Added to that, Sasuke was about to say ‘Naruto, I....’ God only knows what he was about to say. But every possibility of Sasuke confessing and kissing is there.

I know the creator cannot approach this directly considering the situations he worked under. But is there any necessity for such an intense scene? Even the anime creators loved this scene and made their own version of making Naruto’s eyes wide open and even more closer.

I wont be watching my friend or sister like that. 

That explains all the way back to this fated accidental scene.

There is nothing special about this scene. It’s all very clear that the kiss was accidental. It was really funny. But my point is why Sasuke never beat him to pulp or even push Naruto away like he did with Sakura and Karin? Why did he stood up for Naruto before Sakura? Why did he let go off Naruto even though he tied him up? Too many leeway for a single person in a single episode. And the most important part is, Sasuke thought it was intentional and remembers the taste. LOL.

Does this means he enjoyed the kiss? Not at all.

Most probably he was shocked to see Naruto in such a close proximity after seeing him from a distance for all those years. And he enjoys this as just another prank from Naruto in his own innocent way. But he won’t mind getting another one from Naruto either.

So, to conclude

I believe I made this post from an objective standpoint without making crazy theories and I don’t have to..... since canonical resources were plenty. Obviously my own bias will also be there which is unavoidable. But I tried to question the creative choices of why this scene even exist in the first place many times. Because those are the scenes which made the most impact inside me.

My first watch of Naruto gave me the benefit of doubt that ‘Are they in love? Nah... They are friends. Maybe I am just overthinking...  but why does it feel different??’ and that too only after finishing episode 478. After rewatching it again and again, it only consolidated my view.

For Sasuke, his worldly ties are pretty thin and runny. He was always a loner from the beginning even when he had his family. He never bothered to make any friends nor did anyone tried to befriend him. He was pretty close to his family especially Itachi. When he lost everything, somehow he got attracted innocently to Naruto and started to like him. But beyond Naruto he never bothered to add anyone in his heart. He considered Kakashi and Sakura were like his acquaintances who helped him a lot and that’s all.

Then after using Orochimaru, he gathered some high skilled shinobi for killing Itachi. But he made it clear that there don’t need to be any understanding but just co-operation would be enough. But along his way, he just abandoned Jugo, Suigetsu somewhere. He openly said to Karin that she is nothing but a burden to him. When his hatred reached upto a maximum boiling point, he didn’t even hesitate to kill Karin, Kakashi or Sakura. But the moment Naruto appears he calmed down. The proof? He was shocked to see Naruto at first. Then Naruto calls, ‘Sasuke!!!’, to which Sasuke responds with, ‘What?’. Despite becoming a maniac, he could find it in his heart to listen to Naruto.

It took an Edo Tenseified Itachi to bring him some rationality to question his beliefs about destroying Konoha. When Jugo and Suigetsu appear again, he casually asked them, ‘What do you want with me at this point?’, I mean, Come On, Man. LOL.  Even during the war arc, when things were about to blast off he only cared about Jugo (who helped him many times, so understandable) and Naruto (Geez!!! LOL).

Even after their final battle, the anime went so far as to create a scene where they were alone in a bright Konoha. But Sasuke looked very peaceful and listening to Naruto intently. When Naruto freaks out about Infinite Tsukuyomi, he casually laughs off and says ‘you still care about the world’. Meaning, he is happy there spending time alone with the person he loves. Doesn’t give a rat’s ass about missing anyone else. (How romantic!!!). Honestly, Sasuke wouldn’t mind if they were to stay that way forever. He would gladly listen to Naruto all day.  But when Naruto disappears he freaks out and starting to make up his mind about joining his brother.

It’s very clear that the people he adores are Itachi and Naruto. Towards Itachi, it’s super understandable, because he is his own brother. But Naruto??? Why should the creator go so far as to make Sasuke adores Naruto even after breaking up with him?

And why make Sasuke possessive about Naruto’s life? When Obito was about to kill Naruto with that Black Orbs, Sasuke blocked him and said ‘You are not the One to sever the past, I am’. I understand the logic behind Sasuke’s possessiveness on Itachi’s life because he destroyed his family, childhood and even Itachi wants Sasuke to be the one to kill him. But why possessive on Naruto? He is not related to him by blood. Naruto never did anything wrong to Sasuke to warrant any hate either. You will become possessive on something only when you truly hate it or wholeheartedly love it. There is no middle ground. My point is why put Naruto here at all in the first place?? Believe me, If Sasuke never paid attention to Naruto in the War arc, I would be the first person to jump out of this ship. 

Just to give you a basic example, Imagine you are living in a place far away from your family, friends and that loveable person. When Corona hits everywhere and forced Lockdown to travel outside the city, and the situation is getting worse day by day. Whom would you desperately reach out first? You would reach the person whom you are connected well in your family and that loved one. You will prioritize your friends only later. This is the Universal truth. Sasuke was seen showing that same instinct in the War arc towards Naruto whom he was not related by blood. And you all just want me to believe Sasuke sees him as just a friend?? Give me a break!!!

If all those traits I’ve mentioned above have been avoided to a greater extent, I would be happy to believe that they are friends. If not all, at the very least delegate some of the tropes to other people or share some of the tropes with other people along with Naruto. But dumping it all on Naruto alone makes me only curious and incredibly romantic too. 

It’s no wonder, Naruto would go so far as to reach out Sasuke even at the expense of his life.

Oh, Did I forget about the cutest and most exclusive trope to SNS?

U-SU-RA-TON-KA-CHI, the most personal word which carries its own meaning and is only for Naruto. So funny that Sasuke has to spend a certain amount of energy to call Naruto using a 6 syllabic word rather than NA-RU-TO, a 3 syllabic word which is much easier.

Disclaimer: This post constituted everything from from Chapter 1 to 699 or Episode 1 to 135 (part 1) + Episode 1 to 479 (Shippuden) excluding fillers. Though Sasuke shinden novel was made into anime, I don’t want to consider that here. As much as I loved the prologue in that novel, I still don’t want to cite that here, as I consider everything after 699 is $$$$ making bullshit.

FUN FACT:

If you put yourself in any character in the Naruto Universe except for Naruto, and ask them, ‘What do you think about Sasuke?’. You know the answer from Sakura, she will say ‘Sasuke-Kun looks very cool and acts aloof, that’s why I love him’. Kakashi will say ‘My favorite student’. And all the other people will say somewhat similar, ‘He is an excellent Shinobi who belongs to the proud Uchiha clan and Naruto’s rival’

But Naruto will be the only person to say this.

“Lot of fun to be around” ....... LOLLLLL.

Me: No, Naruto!!! Clearly not. No one in your universe can have fun with him except you. Go and Ask Sai, Team Taka or your own Team 7. They adore him for being Cool and Talented. But Fun is not the word that equates with Sasuke unless there is no You, Naruto.

Thanks for reading :-D

[visforvengeance]

I saw stars // Rafe Cameron

Requested by: mm no one :)

Notes: i really love rafe and he just needs help. no hate against sarah. she's one of my faves. also i don't remember what happened to their mom so. i based this on that one part in nda by billie eilish that's all lmao

Warnings: like i tried my shot at angst, cursing, teeny tiny bit of manipulation, fighting (between rafe and ward), drug abuse (mentioned). death of a parent (mentioned), there's no spoilers here babes, I actually proofread this time. go me!!

Song

Third-person POV

Rafe paced in his room as his girlfriend sat on his bed. He couldn’t form one coherent thought but his mind was racing. The girl’s voice drowned out in the background. God, she was so worried. He’d called her here, saying it was urgent. But, he’s yet to say what was wrong. She got up and stood in front of him, he realized that she was there and looked up at her. “Baby, what’s wrong?” She pleaded for him to tell her something.

Lately, Rafe had gotten worse. The more Sarah hung out with the pogues, the more their father tried to reel her back in, the less Ward paid attention to how much his son needed him. Rafe fell deeper into his rabbit hole, but the only thing that was holding him afloat was his girlfriend. But even then, he was pulling her in with him too. “Rafe, please tell me what’s wrong. You’re scaring me!” She was so scared. Not of him but for him. She’d watch her boyfriend of 2 years get more unstable with each passing day.

Rafe couldn’t pinpoint which issue he should tell her about, there were so many. Sarah is being a bitch and hanging around the pogues JUST to spite their dad, Ward is fucking falling for it, Rose is being Rose, he’s not ok and no one fucking notices. “Nothing is wrong.” He couldn’t tell her. He had too much shit going on with his family and he couldn’t drag her into it. But, she wasn’t going to let him slide this time. She could see that everything was wrong. The drug abuse, the mental health decline, the lack of attention from his parents. It was breaking him and she’s the only one who seems to give a shit. So why won’t he let her in?

“I call bullshit, Rafe. Please talk to me.” He laughed, manically. “You want to know what’s wrong, babe? Let me tell you. Let’s start with the fact that I have a conniving little bitch of a sister who toys with my father. And a dad who I look up to that won’t give me the slightest bit of attention. Um, the pogues like to insert themselves in everything we do. I just can’t fucking win. So, what’s the point, y’know?” He was crying, although he didn’t realize it. His shedding tears turned to full-on sobbing as his head rested in the crook of his girlfriend’s neck. “Rafe..” she ran her hand through his hair.

He was just a little boy who needed love. She couldn’t imagine having to deal with the shit he does. She was tired for him. The more it sunk in, the angrier she got. She saw red at this point. “Is your dad here?” She whispered to him. He nodded and looked up at her with those pretty little eyes. “Why?” “He needs to get his head out of his ass and realize that everything isn’t about Sarah. He’s completely neglected you and Wheezie trying to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

He tried to stop her but his pleas were being ignored. She spotted Ward in his study and pulled Rafe in and closed the door behind him. “We need to have a little talk.” Ward tried to politely shut her down and get her to leave but she wasn’t having that. “No, you listen to me. Do you realize that other people exist other than Sarah? Like for instance, your other two kids? You’re so far up her ass that you can’t see that they actually need you, unlike her who is doing just fine with her found family.” The two men stood there, shocked as she tore into Ward.

“Your son adores you and all you do is treat him like some stepchild that you don’t want. Do you know how he deals with his pain? Drugs. He’s getting worse and you just watch. You berated him for his actions without even questioning why he does what he does.” Ward tried to defend himself against the younger girl. “Rafe knows that I love him, don’t you, son?” He only called him that to try and manipulate Rafe into doing what he wants.

“No, dad. I don’t. I really fucking don’t. You know, ever since mom died you just stop acting like you cared. I tried so hard to be the son you always wanted and it never fucking worked.” Ward stood there. The rage was evident in his eyes as he stared at Rafe. The younger Cameron was pouring his heart out to him and instead of showing the least bit of sympathy, he was just angry.

He lunged at Rafe, which caught him off guard. As Ward’s fist collided with his face, blood flew from it and onto the ground. Y/N didn’t know what to do as the two men fought. She was terrified for Rafe. The shuffling and her scream were all you could hear outside of the door. Rafe was on top and giving Ward a run for his money. “Rafe, please stop! We’ve made our point, you’re going to kill him!” He realized that his father was no longer fighting back and stopped.

Before they left, he stopped to say something. “Now I really see what you are. You’re just a sad little man, Ward. You only care about this stupid fucking treasure that you killed a man for. And all I ever did was try and help, but it never worked. So, fuck you. I’m done.”

He stormed out of his office with bloody clothing and a bloody nose. Now, they’re in Rafe’s bathroom. Y/N trying to clean his wounds. “Are you okay?” The concern was all over her face. She felt bad. Maybe she shouldn’t have inserted herself in their business. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gone in there,” she said as he winced at the sensation on his lip.

“No, it’s fine. If anything, you helped. You’ve made me realize that I don’t have to deal with this shit. Will you come with me? We could leave here and forget all of this, it can just be us together.” Y/N thought about it. When she turned 18, all of her family had left. But she stayed for Rafe. So why shouldn’t they just leave?

“Of course I’ll leave with you. Tonight, right now. We pack our shit and go. You remember that trip to our vacation home in Texas? We could go there. It’s basically vacant now. What do ya say?” She smiled cheekily at him. His lips latched onto hers as they shared a passionate kiss. They loaded his things into the truck her dad had given her and they left without turning back. The lights of the Cameron home blurred in the distance and they drove off.

[ptergwen]

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

-

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

-

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Can I ask what it would be like for Solsu having to take care of drunk romanced companions? Bonus points if they're told about their shenanigans afterword.

Cait:

(Angry drunk)

•It's best that you don't drink in polite company with her. She's already a feisty individual with a burning passion for inflicting pain, you make her drunk and it's only a matter of time before she incites some horrible fight.

•Sounds funny, but it's really not. Reign her back. Please.

Curie:

.......you aren't really gonna let her drink, right? I highly advise you don't....

Danse:

(Horny drunk 👀)

•Danse hardly ever partakes in more than a couple glasses with company and this is exactly why.

•At first it all starts off nice and smooth, just Danse beginning to gradually relax- which is "outstanding" considering his usual rigid disposition. However once that fine line of too many drinks have been crossed, all hell breaks loose.

•It'll start with comments on your appearance, simple incessant "you look beautiful"s spoken with dazed eyes...then it escalates to Danse pulling you into his lap where you're met with his obvious "intentions" prodding you in the ass, all while being held in a bear hug from a blushing, smiling Paladin who happens to look like a kicked puppy when you make him calm down with a drink of water. Don't worry, he might mope but he'll quit if you tell him to.

•Perks back up when you tell him it's time to go to bed...only to mope even more when he realizes that no, it isn't for sexy times. No worries, he'll be happy so long as you let him hold you..

•Is absolutely ashamed and horrified of his behavior when he wakes up and you tell him what went down. Probably will hide his face in his pillows and try to disappear. Swears he won’t drink again and make a fool of himself like that….will totally drink some more.

•Just be lucky he wasn’t feeling melancholic like a post BB Danse would.

Deacon:

(Stupid drunk..)

•Ever seen that one video of that guy busting through drywall like Kool-Aid Man? That's Deacon's level of maturity when properly intoxicated.

•No worries, Desdemona is going to bitch at him from the time he does something too stupid until he isn't even drunk anymore. Frankly, he deserves it too- he's destructive, reckless, and...well..hilarious, but that doesn't mean it's redeemable!

•He seems to perfectly remember all his antics, some he even reflects upon with a proud grin..until his hangover ends up making him wince in pain. Just...take care of him, there isn't any point in trying to scold him. Des has that covered anyways.

Gage:

(Emotional drunk)

•A drunk gage was both extremely rare because of his genuine hate for alcohol and also very shocking. Sure, one may assume that someone so rugged and tough like a raider- especially Gage- would have no issue handling his liquor....oh how wrong you could be...

•You weren't entirely sure what happened, much less where he got the idea, but somehow Gage got the absurd notion that you decided he wasn't good enough for you and you were going to just leave him behind. He'd keep it in for a while, slowly growing more quiet as he took practical gulps of his drink. That doesn't last.

•Eventually he starts to cry, silent tears pouring from his good eye. Whenever you actually notice, it's too late. Just pray no one else is around when this next part happens.

•All it takes is you coming to his side, placing a comforting hand on his back and he crumbles. He'll grab you and push his face into your chest and start sobbing, wailing incoherently as he begs you to not leave him.

•It might seem humorous, but it raised several questions.

•The morning after his outburst, you wake up extra early to present him with a half way decent breakfast in bed- extra grease on the food for good measure. Once he seems to be more coherent, you make sure to talk to him about his apparent fear of you not loving him...which brings him close to tears once again whenever you finally convince him that you do in fact love him and won't ever leave his side so long as he loves you back.

Hancock:

(Stealthy drunk)

•Unfortunately, the mayor of Goodneighbor doesn't really have any fun antics..well at least any that would point to him being intoxicated. Sorry.

Macready:

(Over indulging drunk)

•Mac is arguably the best one to get shit faced with, especially if you like drugs and food. Oh yeah, something about eating while intoxicated is irresistible to him. Think of it like munchies, but in Mac's case, five times as bad.

• After a couple drinks, Mac nonchalantly will reach into his pocket- gesturing for you to come close- before putting a cigarette in your mouth and lighting up- using your's to light his own. If you don't set a stopping point, the two of you will wake up down two packs, several empty containers of jet, and crumbs everywhere.

•When faced with the consequences of his gluttony, Mac will just sit there and whine as his stomach does cartwheels. That's punishment enough...

Maxson:

(Mr. Vomits-a-lot drunk)

•It takes a whole hell of a lot for Maxson to get shitfaced thanks to his rather strict habitual drinking. After all, it would be a strange day if you didn't see him knock a bottle of whisky out before finally turning in..which was kind of sad come to think of it..

•Nonetheless, he does occasionally push his limits when he's especially stressed and it's never pleasant when he does.

•It was sort of funny, in retrospect. One minute you and him were sitting on the flight deck together, casually talking whilst finishing off a bottle of shitty vodka (unknowing that he had already burned through countless bottles before meeting you) when suddenly Arthur started to look pale. It just kept getting worse until eventually he was frantically motioning for you to follow him as he ran to the railings, sticking his head over before throwing up whatever was on his stomach..sending it to a several hundred foot drop below.

•It's a good thing you held him, otherwise the brotherhood might've been short an elder and you short a partner.

•When confronted with his..let's say "overindulgence", he'll sort of look away and try to change the subject. It's probably best if you try to hide liquor for a while. 

Nick:

(Doesn't drink....)

Old Longfellow:

With his age and experience? He's the same as Hancock.

Piper:

(Daredevil drunk)

•Hope you're sober, because if you aren't- there's a good chance you'll be spending the night in Diamond City Jail.

•Piper is reckless on a good day, putting alcohol with that in mass quantities and she's wild. Just hope you have strong will, because she sure as shit isn't going to back down easy.

•It's kind of funny, but her go to is to do crazy shit. Jump off the roof? Hold her cup. Want to vandalize the great green wall? Fuck yeah. Nothing beats the time she wasn't careful and threw a lit cigarette down Ann Codman's cleavage during a heated argument with her.

•She has no regrets either, so don't expect her to be remorseful in the morning whenever you tell her what she did. If anything, she'll just laugh next time she sees Ann.

Preston:

(Over thinking drunk)

•If it wasn't lowkey annoying, you'd probably think Preston's drunken neuroticism was hilarious. Not to be gotten wrong, but even sober, your love could be extremely insistent..mix his anxious attitude with liquor and you end up with a terrible night.

•You knew better than to let him have more than a couple beers, seeing as his tolerance wasn't exactly the best, and yet here you were. Preston pensively sitting at the bar beside you, rich eyes narrowed and focused on the liquid in his glass- his hands resting against his head.

•"I know you're dying to ask...." "Okay babe, since you brought it up...do you think putting electrical wire around our people's settlements would be a bad idea? It might closely resemble a prison but it's for their own good. Wait- shit, what about the kids? Oh god..."

•He may just sheepishly rub the back of his head and apologize in the morning..but he'll be quick to revisit some of the key points and ideas with you if you so much as give him a chance.

X6-88:

(Ridiculous drunk)

•It was only one time..thankfully.

•You, and your whole group of friends had to convince him to try it out- but once he started, he couldn't stop.

•This asshole would throw down drinks faster than Hancock..which was terrible considering his painfully low tolerance to alcohol.

•One thing goes to another and next thing you know, "The Wanderer" is playing in the background, X is singing and dancing like an idiot, and everyone is gathered around- terrified at what they were seeing. It's sort of like seeing a deathclaw do ballet- so, totally understandable.

•He dares you to bring it up later, dares you.

[arvinsescape]

Me for Me.

A/N: I personally struggle with a lot of these insecurities so if anyone else does please know my inbox is always open.

Summary: Y/N is closed off and Tom finds out why.

Warnings: Couple of swear words.

W/C: 2K.

At first Tom thought he’d upset you in some way or another without meaning to. You’d been cast in a film together and while you were always pleasant, he found it difficult to get close to you. When he’d asked you if there was anything he’d done you’d laughed and said no, said that he didn’t need to worry. Every time he tried to hang out after set you’d politely reject and make your way back to your trailer. He decided he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“Hey, Jane.” He collared your agent as she was walking past.

“Tom, what can I do for you?” She replied, Jane was lovely.

“I was just wondering if I’d upset Y/N somehow and she won’t tell me what I did.” He asked as he scratched the back of his neck.

“She hasn’t said anything why?”

“Well, I don’t know she just seems difficult to get close to, like we have a laugh on set but then when I try and do something outside of set she just disappears.” Tom said as Jane sighed.

“Look Tom, Y/N’s like that a lot of the time, she’s quite closed off. It’s not my place to talk about it though.” She said with a sad smile and Tom sighed.

“Is she still in her trailer?” He asked and she nodded as he made his way towards your trailer and knocked, you looked shocked when you saw him standing there.

“Tom, hey, what are you doing here?” You asked with furrowed brows.

“Any chance we can talk?” He asked and you hesitantly nodded as you let him into your trailer.

“What’s wrong, did you wanna go over some stuff from the script?”

“No, I actually just came to talk to you.”

“Oh.” You said as you both sat down.

“Look, if I’ve upset you please will you tell me. I really feel like I’ve missed something.” He said as he sighed.

“You haven’t done anything, look I just struggle to let people in, that’s all.” You said as you smiled at him and he nodded.

“Wanna talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want.” He said and there was something about the way he said it. Something seemed safe about telling him, that he wouldn’t tell anyone else and you really enjoyed working with him, he was a really nice guy. You sighed as you spoke.

“I just have a lot of insecurities you know. I’ve had a lot of people use me in this industry to get where they want to be and then cut me off like we never knew each other.” You swallowed and he looked at you as you spoke, attention fully on you. You felt tears brim your eyes as you carried on.

“I’ve had people that claim to be my friends talk shit about me and then when I asked them about it they just said that everybody talks shit behind everyone’s back regardless of who they are to them. Which I get it, your anger gets the better of you sometimes and I can understand that but some of the things they said had nothing to do with anything I did to them, it was about my looks or my acting, that sort of stuff. That started a lot of insecurities for me, I always fear that people don’t actually like me or that they put up with me for a short time before I bore them.” You let a few tears slip as you spoke and sniffled.

“I feel like I’ve never really had a best friend you know. Never really had someone who gets me, never really had someone who itches to tell me things first. It sounds so childish but I just wanna be someone’s first thought for once you know. Even the boyfriends I’ve had have treated me like that.” You were crying now as you let it all out, knees pulled up to your chest and you felt guilty for a second. Tom probably didn’t wanna hear this.

But you were wrong Tom did want to hear this because now he understood. You won’t get close to him or anyone else because you’re scared that they’ll turn out like everyone else. He understood now that all you really wanted was a friend, someone who would stick by you and tell you when you’d annoyed them or upset them, not talk shit behind your back. You wanted people in your life you knew you could trust but so many people had let you down that you’d become guarded. Tom moved towards you and moved your legs so he could pull you into his chest as you cried.

“Hey, it’s not childish to want a proper friend you know.” He said as he rubbed your back. “I get it, you don’t want people to hurt you so you don’t give them the chance and I understand that. I want to help, be someone you can rely on, call a friend. I care you know, I came here to find you because I care.” He said as he continued to rub your back as you cried into his chest.

You cried for a while before you eventually calmed yourself down and Tom didn’t let go for a second, he just held you because that’s what you needed. You’d expected him to get bored and leave you crying to yourself. When you’d composed yourself you pulled away from him as you wiped your nose on your hoodie and sniffled.

“I’m sorry about your shirt.” You laughed as you gestured to the puddle of tears you’d left there.

“It’s fine. I’m sorry my prying made you cry so much.” He said and it was sincere, he meant it.

“It wasn’t really you. I’ve just kept it in for so long you know. It felt good to get it out. No one’s ever really asked me about it.” You said, it was true no one had taken it upon themselves to find out why you only ever interacted with people on set. Maybe he did care.

“We get on so well on set I genuinely want to spend time with you outside of it you know. I would love to wind down properly with you, laugh about the shit that’s gone wrong, you know.” He laughed as he moved a few strands of hair out of your face and you sniffled again.

“God, I must look a right state.” You laughed. “Listen, I’m sorry if I’ve been standoffish I just don’t wanna put myself in that position again. I would love to do all those things but I’ve just held myself back you know.” You sniffled again and he nodded.

“Well I am prepared to show you that you can trust me and it’s okay if that takes time, I just wanna get to know you.” He smiled and it seemed so genuine you nodded, he seemed like a safe place you’d not found in a while.

He did prove to you that he cared. He invited you to so much, he seemed genuinely interested in you and your life, work, anything. You became inseparable on and off set, you really did become best friends, you even considered his brother a best friend and it made you feel so good to be able to have people around but of course, filming wrapped up, press tours were done and the movie was out. You became filled with the dread that this would be it, he was gonna drift away now.

You were sat at home thinking about the last time you’d heard from Tom and it had been almost a week but you knew he was busy and you hadn’t reached out either. You were pulled from your thoughts when your phone vibrated. Tom. You quickly answered.

“Hi.” You said probably overly excited.

“Hey. I’m so sorry I’ve not called or texted this week, I’ve been so busy seeing family and getting shit sorted at home.” He said and you smiled.

“No it’s fine, I didn’t call or text you either.” You reasoned.

“Yeah but I said I’d call and I didn’t forget I just ran out of time most days and it’d be way too late at night to call you.” He explained.

“Tom, it’s fine.” You laughed.

“Listen, I’m your way again in a couple days, you wanna hang out? I miss you and I know Harry does too.”

“That sounds amazing.” He wanted to see you. He really does care. You by this point of course had a crush on him and you didn’t know if he felt the same but it didn’t matter because he was just being the one thing you really wanted and needed: a best friend.

You met up with the boys as planned and it was amazing. You had a lot of fun and when they were heading back to their hotel Tom had asked if you wanted to go for dinner the night after and of course you agreed. So here you were, sat in a nice restaurant, enjoying the best company.

“So Y/N, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” He said as he looked at you and you smiled.

“Anything.”

“Look, when we first started hanging out I really enjoyed it, you were funny and we got on so well that at some point I started to like you. I didn’t wanna make it seem like that was why I was getting close to you because it wasn’t, the crush came after the friendship. I know you don’t like letting people in and I respect that but I would love it if you could let me in, you know completely. Let me be there for you as partner and a best friend.” He said and you felt tears brim your eyes.

He’d gotten to know you and then started to like you. He didn’t base it off your looks, he based it off your personality, something you’d not had before. Most men had wanted to date you and then didn’t want to get to know you. But Tom was the opposite and it filled you with a happiness that you’d never felt before.

“If you don’t like me back, that’s fine but at least I’ll know. It won’t change anything, I’ll still be here as much as I am now.” He finished and you smiled at him.

“So you like me for me?” You asked.

“I really really do. Of course, you’re beautiful on the outside but that doesn’t compare to how beautiful you are on the inside. Like I said, I really did come to find you that day because I cared and I wanted a friendship. I developed my crush on you a couple of months later. I’ve always found you attractive make no mistake about that but getting to know you was amazing because you are an amazing person.” He said.

“I really like you too.” You said and he grinned.

“So you wanna make a go of it? I promise things won’t change, I really do like you for you.”

“Yeah, I wanna make a go of it.” You said and he smiled as he leant over the table to give you a kiss to which you happily returned.

Tom really did prove a lot to you, he was there for you all the time and he showed you what it was like to be loved properly, you made new friends through him, people you could trust and people who didn’t let you down and for the first time in a long time you were genuinely happy with your life.

[thesmokingguns]

Not with the band

summary: hi everyone, I wrote this for @ayablackwood . I hope you like it!

A/N: this is my longest oneshot and I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you for Reading. If you want to make a request for a fix either message me or you can request HERE. Thank you!

tag list: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @ayablackwood @agroupiewhore

Word Count:6102

Izzy POV

The first thing I noticed about her was the big brown eyes. Sad eyes that showed she had lived her life and seen a few things in her time. I had never noticed a girl's eyelashes before but I could see  the long black lashes sweeping down, staring at her drink before looking back up almost doing a reset. Maybe she was like me and thought that these parties took a lot out of a person. The constant talking to strangers, faking politeness or interest in a conversation with someone.

I got a reputation for being indifferent, a quiet introspective sort of person who didn't care about others. But that wasn’t who I was; I just found most people were just boring to be around. There are only so many times you can talk about your band before you realize that it’s not your band they care about. Most girls I met just wanted to sleep with me. It wasn’t even that they wanted to sleep with me but that they wanted to sleep with the guitarist from Guns n Roses. And that was fine. I had no problem sleeping with the girls who didn’t require me to put in any effort because I wasn’t going to waste my time trying to woo them.

But as I watched this stranger across the room, I couldn't help but start to think about who she was. I noticed she had a nervous tick of pushing her straight black hair behind her ear when men came up to her and when she was talking to her friends she’d place her hands on their forearms almost whispering secrets into their ears. She played with the tab of her beer can, the one she only sipped a couple times in the hour that I had been watching her. She wasn’t wearing skyrocketing heels or lace dresses. She had on a button up summer dress with a collar and short sleeves. Every once and a whole she’d stuff her hand in a pocket, letting her eyes sweep the room for someone she knew. She looked ready for a church picnic and not the rock and roll party at a beach house that would probably stretch though the entire weekend. She didn’t even seem to notice that she wasn’t all teased up 80’s glam; she was comfortable in her.

I had no idea who she was or who she came with but I couldn’t stop staring at her. She drank beer instead of the usual wine or booze that the girls at these parties consumed and instead of hanging out near a band member she was around other girls.  They all seemed to come over to her, leaning close to whisper secrets in her ear, the sly smiles they spread across their faces. How did she know so many people here and I had no idea who she was? Finally, Axl’s girlfriend laced their arms, dragging her over to the couch where Axl and I were both sitting, giving me a chance to get to know her.

“This is Y/N, she’s my best friend. Y/N this is Axl and Izzy.'' When the introduction was done she pulled her down on the couch, our legs touching from the close proximity. I watched her lick her lips, turning to lean close to me so she could talk and have me hear what she was saying. I could smell her shampoo, like lavender, and feel the warmth of her body as she gave me a conspiratory look. It was intoxicating being this close to her and having her overwhelm my senses.

“I’m everyone’s best friend because I’m usually the designated driver.” she joked, the smile breaking out over her face like she was sharing this joke with me. Holy shit, it was like staring into the sun when her smile spread across her face, warming up those sad brown eyes and showing a twinkle of joy.

Hook, line, and sinker. I never reacted to a girl like this before and now this stranger was beside me on the couch and I couldn’t even think of something to say. All I could think about was how soft her hair looked and how much I wanted to wrap my fingers around a silky lock. Or how her nails weren’t painted the fashionable red or the neon colors but this soft pink. Everything about her seemed to stick out or maybe she was just sticking out to me because I was already obsessed with her.

“I’m Izzy.” She gave me a look and I realized that introductions had already been made and I was just making a fool of myself. This is exactly what I get for spacing out in so many conversations with girls. I lost any sort of ability to communicate with someone. “Do you want to get out of here?” Following up my reintroduction of myself with a line that I had used on a bunch of one night stands that I had wanted to stop talking about. It was that instant feeling of regret seeping into me.

“No, I don’t.” She didn’t give me any other explanation, only got up from the couch, headed over to a group of people and blended into them with ease. She hadn't even given me a look when she left.

“You have been staring at  Y/N all night and I got her to come and sit down next to you and not even five minutes later you screwed it up. What did you say to her?” the girl on Axl’s lap asked me. I felt like a kid being scolded by my parents and even felt a burning in my cheeks.

“I’ll fix it, don’t worry.” I was standing up, walking across the room to where she was standing. It had been months, maybe years since I went up to a girl and not just let them come up to me. It was like she felt me coming, her head turning, eyes meeting mine and suddenly I was forgetting everything that I had prepared in my mind. Just the way she looked at me had me forgetting the apology that I had in my mind. “Just grabbing a beer.” I reached around her grabbing a beer from the bucket on the table watching her eyes follow me. Smooth. So fucking smooth.

It had been a week since the party and I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I’d go to sleep thinking of her. She’d come to me in my dreams with those brown eyes waking me up. I couldn’t stop thinking about how the side of her lips curled up and her whole face lit up when she smiled. I started to realize I was putting her on this pedestal, obsessing over Y/N, a girl I had met once in passing at a party.

So I did the only thing that I could do. I called up Axl to have his girlfriend plan a  double date so that I could see her again. With the double date she would have her friend there for support but she would also be there with me.  This would give me the opportunity to charm her and show her I was capable of conversations that were bigger than just introducing myself or getting a beer.

The girls were at the bar and my heart got caught in my throat when I saw her. She was wearing a silky green dress, clinging to the curves of her body. Cherry painted lips, full and just needing to be kissed, were in a smile as she sipped a wine glass. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the night.

Her eyes landed on mine across the room, the soft smile she was wearing blooming larger as she shook her head, leaning forward to her friend before the pair of them were both headed over to us.

“I had a feeling it would be you here tonight.” she had that glint in her eyes again, “What was your name again? I don’t think that I caught it the first time.” the way she teased me so easily put me at ease. I didn't feel the stress like I had the night of the party. She was bringing me out of the shyness, fixing the way my mouth was tongue tied.

Y/N sat next to me at dinner, tight in the booth as we talked about all the usual things people talked about but instead of hitting the highlight rail and painting a rainbow over her life she was raw. When we talked about family she told me about her grandparents who had raised her and Aunts and Uncles who stepped in where her parents failed. She knew about the band because she was actually best friends with Axl’s girlfriend so when she looked at me there was a skeptical look in her eyes as if she knew the secrets and shames of my life. But there wasn't any judgement.

Y/N asked me questions, not about the band and what it felt like to be on stage or if I’d write a song about her but different questions like what it felt like when I held a guitar for the first time and how many songs did he write that never made it past notebooks. We talked and talked, snug in the booth together seeming to forget it was a double date and we just fell into a conversation together.

Finally a waiter came over to us letting us know that the place was closing and that the two of you had to leave. Time had completely gotten away from me as I had stayed wrapped up in her. Looking across the table I saw Axl and his date gone.The check was on the table but before I could reach for it she had thrown money down, smiling up at the waiter and letting him know it was all set.

“I’m supposed to pay for that.” I said as she scooted  gently pushing me out of the booth. Her shoulders shrugged as she walked out of the restaurant, not waiting for me or seeming to care if I was behind her.

The sound of her heels on concrete, gave away which direction she was headed. Her bare shoulders were held high even in the cool night and I was rushing to be by her side, shrugging out of the denim jacket and wrapping it around her. The kind brown eyes looked up at me, skeptical for a second.

“I’m not going to sleep with you, Izzy.” her voice was clear and came out easily, “And I don’t date musicians.” She was matter of fact, shutting off the fact that we had just had a good night together and had gotten to know each other more.

I had watched the way she talked, confirming some of her nervous ticks. Like how she would look down and reset, sweeping her eyes around the room when she wasn’t comfortable. That had stopped about twenty minutes into dinner when we started to get along. There was no beer can tab to bend this way and that so instead her finger swirled around the top ledge of her wind glass in between small sips of wine.

“I never said anything about sleeping with you or dating you.” I said as we got to the corner. Her brown eyes were narrowed, regarding me with a strange curiosity like she was trying to make out what I wanted from her. “I want to kiss you though.” My hand slid through her black hair, as soft as silk, just like I had known it would be. She gasped, her mouth opening in a slight gasp not expecting me to be so close to her. Our eyes met and I watched her search me, as if there would be answers behind my eyes that I hadn’t spoken to her.

“If you kiss me I’ll never speak to you again. I don’t need boys kissing me.” her brown eyes were serious. There was an interesting spark there and it wasn’t like she was telling me that I couldn't kiss her. Y/N hadn’t moved an inch from my arms, she stayed looking up at me with my hands on her lower back. Having her in my arms felt good, not like the carnal or feral pleasure that I had with random girls. It was like we could communicate without words

“I’m not a boy, I’m a man.” The way she smirked at that statement was encouraging but there was still the fear in her eyes that I wanted to see gone. How could I get those brown eyes to only shimmer in happiness. “Let me walk you home.” I pulled back, watching the way her eyes sparkled for a second. It was the first time I felt like I had made the right choice.

Two days later I was sitting on the couch backstage, my fingers picking idolly on the guitar when two giggling girls burst into backstage. And there she was, eyes shiny with joy as she laughed with her friend. The pair of them seemed almost surprised that they were in the room with the band. Y/N looked up, eyes landing on me as if she knew exactly where I would be.

I don’t know why her eyes knocked the wind out of me everytime that they looked at me but I was made stupid in her presence. She didn’t come over to talk to me, staying with her friend. Her black hair was tied back in a red ribbon bow. If she could have reached the ribbon I’m sure she would have pulled it out; she was playing with the end of her ponytail. I didn’t know why she was nervous but I gave her space watching how every few minutes she would look down her eyes looking around until they landed on me. When we would make eye contact she seemed frustrated by it and would pull her eyes away.

I had her phone number which I had called several times since the double date without her picking up once. There had to be a reason she was ignoring me. I had thought of around 100 in the time that I had been obsessing with her. The biggest one, the one that made the most sense is she wasn’t into me because there was someone else. The logical part of my brain accepted this but the other part wanted to fight for her, prove that I was worth it.

Before we went on stage, I looked over at her again.She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept since I dropped her off. Small dark circles that she hadn’t bothered to cover in makeup stood out as she sipped her beer. She wasn’t trying to make everyone laugh or touching forearms as she leaned in to speak to them. One hand was firmly planted in the denim shorts she was wearing and the other on a can of beer that I was sure was warm from how long she nursed it. It felt like something was wrong and I didn't have time to figure out what it was.

During the show I looked over, almost doing a double take when I saw her standing there, watching us perform. Her friends were all moving to the music but she was perfectly still just watching me. Not the band but me. She caught me staring and sent me a small wave in return, I missed the next note getting a scathing look from Axl as repayment.

How could she be so inside my head? I had no idea how to deal with it. All I could think about for the rest of the shoe was getting off stage and talking to her. Or kissing her. I could imagine her pressed against her, her arms wrapping around my neck as I lifted off her feet into a kiss. The feeling of her plus lips on mine, her tongue that I was sure tasted like something sweet, dancing against mine. I blinked myself out of the image, stealing a look over at her as if she could read my embarrassing thoughts. Just like  a high school idiot I was fantasizing about a girl. I needed to get a better grip on things.

It took me almost twenty minutes to find her after the show. Between all the hustle and bustle of people moving around it was like a whirlwind and then suddenly there she was walking towards me, what looked like my denim jacket folded over her arm.

“Hey, I just brought this back for you. I have to head home now.” She tried to hand me the jacket but I was too caught up in the idea of her leaving so soon to grab it.  Y/N must have seen the confusion on my face, “I have a meeting I need to prepare for tomorrow. I probably shouldn’t have even come out to this.” She motioned around to the show and once more held out the jacket for me to take,

“Why don’t I take you home?” The weary look on her face was there again; she didn’t trust me. It was fair. We hadn’t known each other for that long and if she knew the same people as I did it wasn’t really a slight on me to not trust me. It was common sense, “I just want to have a couple more minutes with you. I won’t force myself into your apartment or anything like that.” I could feel my heart breathing as I tried to play off this cool, collected guy. When she nodded in agreement I had to bite my lip to stop the idiotic smile from plastering across my face.

We talked in the car, small talk about little things and I asked her about her meeting. I got to glimpse her face express joy, stress, hope, and a million other emotions at the mention of it and realized this wasn’t just her work meeting but her passion meeting. Y/N wanted to design clothes and had gotten a meeting to work with a company to see her line. If she was taken on she could have a clothing line out as soon as the Spring.

I had been around musicians for so long that it seemed second nature to brag or talk about our work. There would be a million times where someone would just pick up an instrument and other people would join in on a jam session and suddenly a song was written. Or the amount of times composition notebooks were passed around to judge song lyrics someone else had written. No one was really shy about their music because everyone had this sense that they were the best at what they did.

Y/N seemed to have a track record of people not fully believing in her. She told me about her grandparents having sent her to college to get a husband more than they had sent her to get a degree and when she had graduated with her business degree and a good job they had been proud of her but there had been this sense of failure with it. If she told them it would just feel like it was about her step away from their traditional expectations of how she should live her life. Her friends were all so wrapped up in what they were doing, most of them hanging around the scene and trying to land a rich boyfriend to take care of them that she felt like if she shared her work with them they wouldn’t understand what she was trying to do. So she kept her designs to herself, sketching out ideas and tracing out pattern designs when she was alone. She would take vacation days from work just to sew or spend whole weekends pretending she had the stomach flu to give her an escape from everyone else and just focus on something that she wanted to do.

Seeing her talk about it and feeling the sincerity of her passion coming out in her words moved me and I had to see it. I wanted to see what made her so excited and what her dreams were. It felt important to me because it made her happy.

“Do you think I could see what you’re working on?” I asked when we pulled up outside of her place. She looked at me, shocked and stared for a second before giving a slight nod as she got out of the car leading me inside the place that she lived.

It was exactly how I would imagine it to be, pictures on the wall of family and friends, fresh flowers on the counter, a coffee cup with a lipstick smear on her coffee table, and just a mess of fabric everywhere.

“Sorry for the chaos. I’ve been in a panic mood.” she confessed, clearing off the couch and starting to tidy up as I walked around, looking at some of the sketches on the wall and letting my fingers run over the clothing she had on some forms. I could feel her eyes following me, watching me as I moved around.

“You did all of this by yourself?” She nodded, those brown eyes scared as she shared with me the intimacy of her craft. The raw unfinished hems of art in progress. “You’re amazing.” her eyes widened at this and for a second I thought she was going to cry. I took a step closer to her, “You should be really proud of yourself for getting all of this done. And your work is amazing. Will you tell me more about your meeting?”

And she did. We sat on the couch, time once more seeming to melt away around us. Both of us talked about our goals and dreams. The life we wanted and just some of the things that we had dreamed about. It was easy to talk about the life that we both wanted because our puzzle pieces we wanted in our life seemed to fit together.

The sun tickled me awake, teasing me out of sleep as I woke up on a couch. I looked at my side where Y/N was tucked in, fast asleep. There was a smirk as she dreamed about something amusing, drawn over her face. Some of her dark hair had escaped the pony tail and spilled over the gentle features of her face. Absent-mindedly, I tucked them back watching amused as her nose scrunched up from my fingers.

I couldn’t remember waking up next to someone that I hadn’t had sex with. I wasn’t sure what I was even supposed to do. Could I make myself a cup of coffee? Could I sneak out and make it to the band meeting I needed to be at in thirty seven minutes? Shit.

Trying to be gentle I slowly got up from the couch, rearranging Y/N so she would stay asleep. I grabbed my jacket, laying it over her as she resettled into the spot. I wanted to stay so badly but knew that I couldn’t miss the meeting.

Finding a pen I scribbled a note, hoping that she could read my chicken scratch writing and that she saw the message before her meeting. With one last glance I looked at her before leaving the apartment.

Y/N POV

Oh man, another night on the couch. My back was protesting against my decision before I even opened my eyes. It smells like cigarettes, sweat, and cologne. It smells like Izzy. My eyes snapped open as I remembered talking to him last night. Now I’m waking wrapped in the denim jacket I tried to give him back and he’s gone. When did he leave?

Looking at the time I started rushing around, packing things up in the garment bags, getting dressed and grabbing my bag. I stopped seeing a piece of paper with different handwriting on the counter, Izzy’s name signed at the bottom.

‘Sorry for sneaking out on you well you slept, you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to wake you. Your work is amazing and they’ll be so lucky to add your designs to the team. Good luck, Y/N. I’ll be throwing a party tonight. Here’s my address. Please come. -Izzy’

The kind words had my cheeks blazing. He believed in mr. He thought I had talent and could see the creativity and love sewn into each garment. He respected my craft and my passions. He had listened to my lamenting the night before about everything and he wanted my dreams to be realities.

The realization that I liked the guitarist started to seep in. The preconceived notions of who the band was and how they slept around was starting to slip; for the past couple weeks Izzy only had eyes for me. And when we talked it was so easy to tell him everything. At the parties and backstage Izzy had stayed away from the girls who wanted to sleep with him. He had even left to take me home. He hadn’t tried anything.

I had made this assumption about him because his band was just like everyone else. After the meeting I’d get ready and talk to him, apologize, kiss him.

Walking into the party I tried not to fidget with the leather dress. My eyes wandered around the house, I knew most of the people here but I couldn’t find Izzy.

It was twenty minutes later when I finally spotted him on the balcony. He looked uncomfortable, three girls crowded around him as he nodded his head absently. Every couple minutes he’d look up, eyes scanning the crowd before looking down at his drink, tipping it back to down the amber liquid. But the girls were going in rotation to the bar to keep them coming.

A weird cramping filled my stomach and my hands tightened in fists. The jealousy overtook me as I tried to figure out a plan.

“You’re staring at Izzy like he usually stares at you.” Looking over my shoulder I saw Axl staring past you to where his bandmate was trapped being held hostage by the hyenas. “Are you going to save him or are you going to let them take him upstairs? Better figure it out kid.” The lead singer moved away leaving me alone. I stewed in my anger, showtime.

One foot in front of another, hips swinging dangerously side to side I watched the eyes follow me. Izzy finally saw me when I got to the balcony, stepping forward to break out from his captors. My hand went to the back of his head, pulling him down a few inches to my lips and planting my lips on his. Hands slid down the smooth sides of the dress around me to my ass and back up to my lower back. Pulling away, my heart beating a million miles a minute, I looked into his shocked eyes. At least it wasn’t just me that felt the fireworks.

“I’ve had a very good day and I’m not going to let anyone ruin that.” I explained to him, flashing him a smile. Izzy cupped my cheeks, his lips hitting mine again as his body pressed me into the balcony. I could feel every part of him, hard and solid against me.

“I’ve been waiting to kiss you for weeks.” His head rested against mine and for a second I forgot that we were at a party surrounded by friends. Izzy seemed to completely forget, his eyes on me, one hand firm against my hip well the other ran through my hair.

“Did it live up to expectations?” I teased, watching the way he was looking at me. His gaze was intense and I felt like I was going to shiver despite the warmth of the night.

“It just left me hungry to kiss every inch of your body.” His words came out husky, vibrating through me and making the dress that barely covered my skin seem too hot to wear anymore.

A flip had been switched on and I couldn’t turn it off. After fighting it for weeks the feeling of Izzy’s hands in my body was exactly what I wanted.

“Are you going to fuck me like one of your groupies?” I asked, “Are we going to go upstairs and in an hour I’ll leave and never hear from you again?” His eyebrows furrowed together, confused.

“Do you think that I’m only going to take an hour with you, honey? That’s cute.” He was taking my hand, weaving us through the crowd and to his bedroom. My cheeks were burning red as he pulled us inside, locking the door behind us. “If you don’t want this, now would be the time to tell me because if you don’t say something in the next ten seconds I’m going to toss you on that bed behind you and do things with your body that I’m sure you’ve never had done before.” His eyes were staring so deeply into me, I gulped trying to picture what he had in mind but not being able to have a coherent thought.

“Why are we still in clothes?”

That was exactly the answer he was looking for. He took one step towards me, looking over my dress before spinning me around, his lips on the back of my neck kissing and biting around to my ear as his fingers pulled the zipper down, his middle finger tracing my spine as it went.

His mouth moved down, kissing until the dress was off, biting my ass cheek as I stepped from the dress. Izzy was on his knees behind me and I felt disoriented that I couldn’t see him.

“Bend over for me. Put your elbows out so you’re comfortable, Y/N. Good job, honey.” Licking my lips I followed his instructions and my body position ass up off the bed.

Hands on my hips rolled my underwear down, pulling it off as well as sliding off my heels. I felt on display, like I was his toy to play with. The idea of it having me bite my lip.

“Look at your pretty pussy.” His finger traced the outside lips, a whimper rolling out of my mouth, “I’m going to take care of you, honey. Don’t worry about that. Let me just enjoy the sight of you and learn your body, okay?” I nodded wishing I could turn and look at him. He rubbed his hands over my ass, pushing my stomach down and arching me higher. His hands went down again, pushing my legs open.

The way that Izzy made a hissing sound followed by a low grunt had me wondering what he was doing.

“Izzy, I can’t see what you’re doing.” I whined out trying to turn. A soft smack on my ass had me freezing in place.

“Do you want me to describe everything to you?” His voice seemed deeper, husky and needy now. “I’m going to get undressed .” The sound of a fly going down, a belt buckle unclipping and the sound of clothes being tossed aside confirmed this. “Now, I’m going to get on my knees behind you and play with your pussy. It’s so juicy and wet I’m going to pump out some of the juices like this.”

Two fingers stretched me open, surging me forward. Izzy moved his fingers quickly for a second, curling them inside to rub against the swell inside of my body. He pulled them out after a second and I heard a slurping sound and a groan of appreciation. I could picture him tasting me off himself and moaning softly into the bed sheets.

“I’m going to get more of your wet pussy juice and use it to stroke my hard cock. Is that okay, honey?” I squeaked out a yes, feeling his two fingers teasing at my hole. My body pushed back, wanting to feel full of him again, “What was that?” He kissed my thigh, wet grin the juices he had just been working from inside of me.

“Please, Izzy. I want you to pump your cock with my wet pussy.” My heart was beating so loudly. I was so horny and just wanted him to work the orgasm from my body. I felt comfortable and trusted him with myself, feeling like he wouldn’t abuse the power in a way I didn’t like.

His fingers were once more inside of me, working at me again. My hands gripped the sheets, trying not to push back against him but I could feel the rocking in my hips.

“Do you need to cum? Am I not finger fucking you hard enough? Let me use my mouth. I’ll fuck you with my tongue and suck on that little swollen clit.” His fingers left my body and I whimpered. I could hear this wet grunting and knew he was fisting his cock as he played with me. “You have me so hard.”

“So fuck me.” I said panting. It felt like he kept getting me so close and stopping. I could feel the quivering in my legs and knew I was more than ready to cum.

“Patience. You made me be patient for you now you be a good girl and let me taste you. I want to lap up your sticky pussy juices before I bury my cock into you.” At the idea of his cock in me I could feel the tightening in my belly.

“Holy-“ I couldn’t finish my sentence. His warm tongue swiped over me, twirling around my home, dancing into my pussy and licking my walls before sliding out down to my slit where his perfect lips wrapped around it like a kiss before his tongue spun around it sucking and pulling it in his mouth.

I was rocking again, over-stimulated and wanting to orgasm more and more. My mind was blank, a coherent thought no longer feasible.

“You can cum for me. I’ll keep sucking and licking you and right at your peak I’m going to push my cock all the way in. You’re going to keep pushing back just like you’re doing now in it, Cumming against my cock and letting me drain myself inside you.” He whispered as he laid these over stimulating kisses over my glistening cunt. His tongue swiped down into me again, then a flat stroke over me and up to my clit. I felt his tongue slide around it sucking the small ball until I was shaking from the orgasm.

Izzy was quick to slide inside me, filling me with his cock, stretching it as he fucked me, dragging out my orgasm as my wetness slid down my thighs over his balls and on his own legs.

“That’s a good girl, cumming so hard against my cock.” His hands were on my hips as I pushed back wanting him to keep fucking me. My hands on the small of my waist helped to pull me back and keep me dripping over every inch of him.

The low groan he gave out let me know he was close and I squeezed, pushing myself back up on my elbows tk throw it back. His hand slid down to my ass smacking it knee again before hands were digging on my hip, his balls slapping my enforced clit as he shuddered inside me.

Izzy stayed like that for a second, both of us panting and gasping for air. He pulled out with a satisfied groan falling beside me on the bed and dragging me close to him in the bed.

His lips were on my head, soft kisses and hair strokes soothing me. Izzy dragged a bed sheet over us, his arms returning to wrap around me. I felt exhausted, safe, comfortable and something deeper for him. A new connection beyond just the carnal pleasure we just had.

“Do you want to stay here for the night? We can do brunch in the morning and you can tell me all about your meeting?” He had remembered the most important step in my career and was making time for me to tell him more about it.

I pulled him into another kiss, his lips tasted like me and I knew we weren’t going to leave this bed until that brucnh he was talking about.

[stillwinchester]

for @floral-cas

The first time, Dean gave Cas flowers, it was just a joke.

He saw an old lady on the street with bouquets of daisies. It was a windy day, and she wore only a sweater, and he just thought it would be nice to help her a little. Small bouquets cost three dollars, the big ones five. He took one of them and give the lady ten bucks.

“Keep the rest,” he said, but the lady shook his head.

“No, sweetheart, I can't. But I can make for you a bigger bouquet, just wait a minute.” She took more flowers to added them to the bouquet. “Who's the lucky one?”

Dean scratched his head, thinking about some reliable lie. 

“Umm, I... It's for me, I just like flowers.”

The lady didn't believe him, but she smiled anyway and started talking. She talked a lot, like she missed for company. When Dean walked away, he knew that she sold flowers for years, earlier her wife had helped her; he knew she had an old cat; he knew meds were expensive; and he knew that her names was Jude. 

Dean came back to the car, he had no idea what he was going to do with flowers, he just threw them on the back seat and drove to home.

*

Cas was staring at the bouquet in Dean's hand. Of course, he was staring, it wasn't like Dean brought flowers every day.

“Do you have a date, Dean?” he asked, tilting his head. And maybe it was crazy, but Dean heard disappointment in his voice. But why Cas would be upset because of some stupid date?

“Oh, no, it's for you, actually,” he teased, giving him flowers. Cas hesitated for a moment, but he took the daisies eventually, watching them curiously. Dean wanted to explain it was just a joke, but before he even can open his mouth, Cas smiled shyly (Dean had no idea Cas could smile this way, it was adorable somehow) and smelled flowers.

“Thank you, Dean. It's very nice of you. They're beautiful.”

Dean didn't say anything, just shrugged his arms. He was cool with this, just dudes being dudes.

*

It became their tradition. Every Monday, Dean came back to the bunker with a new bouquet, always different flowers: tulips, daffodils, peonies, violets… 

Of course, he was doing it only because he felt sorry for that old lady… Right?

*

“We were together almost forty years. We were married only for a short moment, she passed away two months after our wedding. But I'm glad that we could finally do this, even if we were old then...” said Jude, showing him pictures of her and her wife. They looked so happy there, Dean knew he won’t ever have something like this, an apple pie life wasn’t for hunters.

“I have a friend, a good friend,” he confessed. “He gets all these flowers... And I think, I like him more than I should.”

“Than you should?” she repeated. “I think you should love whoever you want...”

“It's not that simple.”

“Oh, life isn't simple, boy, but it doesn't mean it's not worth to try.” She smiled to him to get him more courage. Dean for the first time mentioned Cas to her.

“The thing is... He could never feel the same, and I... Even if he does, my father would despise me, I can't do this. I can't like the other man this way.” Maybe John was dead for years, but Dean was still afraid of him to even try to live his own life.

“I see... I and Flora… I was the one, who had doubts. I knew she loved me, and I knew I loved her, but my parents, they would’ve never accepted this relationship. So, we run away.”

Dean realized that for Jude it wasn’t easy for the beginning, and it gave him hope that maybe he could do this too. Maybe it wasn’t too late for him.

“Actually, my father is dead...”

“So what stop you?” she asked politely.

“I don't know.” He shakes his head. “I think I stop myself.”

*

“Mornin' sunshine, it's for you.” Dean took new flowers from behind his back. 

“Sunflowers!” Cas grinned at him, and something shined in his eyes. He looked so happy like he just got some precious item, not just stupid flowers. Dean was surprised, not for the first time, that his angel can be so delighted because of so simple gift.

“Do you like them?”

“Very much... They remind me about Jack.”

“Ouch! Not about me? I gave them to you!” he mocked, and it made that Cas smiled even more. 

“I know, but you're more like lily.”

Dean blinked twice in confusion. Lily? The hell!

“Umm, what? It doesn't sound... good,” he shared with his doubts. Lily was flower for chicks, he should be Venus Flytrap or some other badass shit (why it was Venus, actually? Mars Flytrap sounded better). 

“Why? It symbolizes pure heart, and you, Dean, have it, no doubt.”

“I… Okay.” He didn't feel comfortable, hearing things like this. Fortunately, Cas changes subject. 

“And what about me? Which one am I?”

“I know shit about flowers symbolism,” he chuckled, but after Cas' sad gaze, he rolled his eyes and replied. “Forget-me-not. I think. They're blue like your... Blue is your color, you know, and I... I could never forget you.”

*

It was a shitty Monday, Dean was on the case, bloody vampires!, and he didn't have a time to see with Jude. And no Jude meant no flowers for Cas. Although, he stopped a car near the meadow and picked one flower, now it seemed to be ridiculous, he didn't plan to give it to Cas...

In the kitchen, Cas was waiting for him with a pie and a cup of steaming coffee.

“Oh, God, you're the best,” he said, taking the first sip. “I feel like a dumbass now.”

“What do you mean?” asked Cas, frowning.

“You prepared all of this, and I couldn't afford you flowers.”

“Dean, you're not obligated to do this. It was a nice thing, but it's not necessary. And I know, you were busy.”

It's none excuse, he thought. Cas seemed to be really okay with this, but Dean still weren't. 

“Look, I know it's not the same. But it's the only thing I could find on my way,” he said, pulling a single blue flower from his pocket. “Forget-me-not for unforgettable angel.”

“Oh, Dean, thank you! It's perfect.”

“I don't think so… It's smashed, and… Jeez, Cas, it's so stupid, I can't even give you a proper bouquet, I…”

“Dean,” he interrupted him. “Come with me, I want to show you something.” 

*

Cas took some book from a bookshelf in his room. He opened it and showed Dean what was hidden inside. There were dried flowers from earlier bouquets. One flower for each one.

“Like I said, it was perfect. It's gonna suit to my collection,” he explained. “And, Dean, I won't forget about you either. Never.”

Dean was just staring at Cas, thinking how much this little gesture meant to him, but in the next second, he caught Cas' lip in his own, and kissed him for the first time. He didn't need to wait a long time for a response, Cas hands found the back of his neck, and the angel was kissing him with passion.

Oh my God, he thought. Cas feels the same. Cas feels the same...

They pulled away and stared at each other for a while, breathing hard. 

“Is it why you gave me all that flowers? Like in the movies?” asked Cas, and Dean noded. 

“Yeah... Like in the movies.”

Cas grabbed Dean's hand and brushed it with his lips. He understood him without any words. 

“Me too, Dean.” He kissed his knuckles once again. “Me too.”

*

“This is Cas,” said Dean on the next Monday. “Cas, this is Jude.”

“It's nice to meet you. Dean talked a lot about you,” explained Cas.

“You didn't lie, boy, he really looks like an angel.” Dean's face turned red, and he mumbled something.

“And what do you have today? Roses?” he changed subject. 

“Red ones. Flowers for lovers.”

Dean smirked, of course, that roses were available on the first Monday after he and Cas got hitched.

“So, I think we'll take the biggest bouquet.”

[silkenstarlight]

a night in crimson valley

Summary: Reader is a bartender at the Crimson Valley Motel. After she is accosted by a drunk John Walker, a familiar face offers her protection and comfort.

Pairing: Biker!bucky x bartender!reader

Warning/s: language, violence, alcohol use; sorta fluffy end

Word count: 5.6k

Author’s note: I’m unsure whether I want to turn this into a series; please let me know your thoughts!

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Her nose burned with the scent of blood and cheap vodka, no matter how hard she scrubbed.

In the early days, when she had first been stationed at this bar, she had stocked the cupboard beneath the register with supplies. Lemon-scented bleach, candy-blue windex, a dried up tube of wet wipes. Every night before closing, she had tugged on a pair of yellow rubber gloves and gone to work. Rubbing, scouring, swabbing away every spilled shot, every stray fingerprint. The dirt and spit and grime seemed to accumulate instantly, and yet, she continued her sisyphean housekeeping, trying to paint over the bar’s run-down reality with a layer of chemical gloss. But, all of that effort was to no avail; this was a roadside establishment, so there would always be sloppy drunks, and there would, most assuredly, always be bar fights, new stains to replace old. No use in hiding it.

Now, she’d grown numb to it, the cleaning supplies below the register covered in an ever-thickening coat of dust. The once shiny, lacquered surface of the bar now reflected dully beneath the low light, encrusted with old dirt and sour deeds. The floor was sticky, a years’ worth of spilled cocktails accumulating in a tacky glue trap. The mirror behind the bar, its surface cloudy and warped, reflected the late-night debauchery of men in desperate need of respite.

Every night, she wiped foggy glasses with the same gray, fraying rag, watching the same blurred, bearded faces pass through. The Crimson Valley Motel, owned by (Y/N)’s father, was a dependable option for truckers looking for a night away from the cramped quarters and lumpy cots of their vehicles. With its low nightly fares and extensive parking, and her father’s promise of discounted drink prices at the attached bar, customers returned without fail. Even still, she tried not to grow too attached to any patrons. They were just passing through, after all, with separate lives waiting for them beyond the road and the walls of the motel. But, sometimes, she just couldn’t help herself. 

Bucky Barnes was one such case.

The first things she had noticed the moment he walked into the bar two years ago were his eyes. Piercing blue, stern and ever-watchful, set beneath the overhang of his perpetually furrowed brow. That first night, he had nursed his whiskey glass with two gloved hands, staring at the bar’s surface as if he were trying to memorize every intricacy and flourish in its woodgrain. She had appreciated his presence ever since, so quiet and watchful, a stark departure from the raucous drunkards and wild military men who usually frequented the Crimson Valley Bar. And, despite the fact that he drank as much as the other patrons, he never seemed affected by the alcohol, his gaze as clear and haunting as ever, even well into the dark hours of morning. It almost made her laugh, his perfect stoicism and strong  jaw, the classic image of unperturbed masculinity. But she could sense the ghost of some deep sadness in the downturned set of his mouth. His shoulders always seemed tense, and he continually shifted his weight in his seat, peering over his shoulder every once in a while, as if suspicious that he was being watched. It made her swallow any skepticism about his demeanor, instead deciding that he was likely a very broken man, deserving of the space and quiet his countenance demanded. For that reason, she never asked him any questions, never made a move to satiate that burning curiosity within her. Better to keep a respectful distance than stir up unwelcome memories. 

She had never even really spoken to him, and only knew his name because she once caught his signature on a receipt. By the time she read it, he had whisked away to spend the night in his motel room and prepare for departure early the next morning.

Whenever he came back, it was like she could sense his presence, could feel his steely gaze sweeping the bar. It was comforting, a sweet bubble of solace beneath the humming neon and peeling rock n’ roll posters, a space of quiet surrounded by the pressing screech of electric guitar and deep boom of drums. She never knew when he would return, his trucking routes and schedule difficult to predict with such minimal information, but she secretly looked forward to it. Another day, another opportunity to unwrap the quiet mystery of Bucky Barnes.

Tonight, the bar was crowded. Hopeful thoughts of seeing Bucky retreated to the very back corner of her mind as she poured sparkling streams of amber liquid into lines of waiting glasses, shaking and stirring and swirling again and again in the rote, mindless motions that a full house required. She had no room to daydream, not on a Saturday night, when more lonely truckers sought out the bar for company, and when the local military base flooded in on their night out. In a room full of loud men with wanting mouths, she needed to work quickly.

On nights like these, the men mostly left her alone, too absorbed in their own festivities to take much note of her. Beyond the simple “pleases” and “thank yous,” they seemed to recognize that any attempt to strike up a conversation would interrupt her flow and leave her begrudging, frustrated, and not exactly an ideal conversation partner. But, some men couldn’t take a hint.

She had been cutting lemon wedges, concentrating on creating an even slice and avoiding her fingertips with the dull knife blade. She counted each slice before pouring the wedges into a chilled metal bowl, her movements precise and rhythmic. 1, 2. 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, pour… 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, pour… 1, 2, 3--

“Hey, bartender! I asked you a question.”

She knew it was John before she even bothered to look up. She sighed heavily, placing the knife on the counter and wiping her hands before tilting her gaze upwards.

John Walker was another regular here, but her opinion of him was very different than the tentative infatuation she harbored for Bucky Barnes. To put it simply, she did not like John. Whenever he swaggered past the bar’s threshold, flanked by his two favored cronies, she shuddered. Unlike the relatively polite regulars who frequented the bar, John was demanding, expecting (Y/N) to cater to his every whim without complaint. He was, apparently, a favored recruit at the military base. She just thought he was a privileged asshole. One time, he refused to tip her because she didn’t smile at him when she served his drink. And, another time, he broke his glass on purpose just to watch her clean it up.

Now, he was staring at her, head cocked and arms crossed, expecting an answer to a question she hadn’t heard him utter.

She sighed again, leaning against the counter. “Sorry, John. Didn’t catch your question.” Her voice was flat, lacking in genuine sympathy. “Mind repeating it?”

“Can’t even listen,” he said to himself, shaking his head in disappointment. “As I asked earlier, did you water down my fuckin’ snakebite?”

She stared at him, eyes boring into his cold blue ones, and she thought for a second. She was annoyed by his interruption, but this could go poorly if she didn’t handle it with care. If she said the wrong thing, he could get offended, and she was the only woman in a room full of men. She could hold her own in a fight and had some experience with self-defense, sure, but that wouldn’t hold up against a man with John’s stature and training. She couldn’t predict if any of the other men in the room would come to her rescue if things went south, but she couldn’t really blame them. He was tall and strong, and had a temper to boot. But his fragile masculinity, which compelled him to talk down to her and order such ridiculous drinks as a snakebite, wouldn’t survive if she talked back. So, her decision was made.

“Well, John,” she said, her voice low as she smirked. “Usually, you’re already plastered by the time you make it to my bar. I always have to water down your drinks because you can’t hold your fucking liquor.”

His face darkened, brows drawing downwards in a chilling expression of anger. He gritted his teeth together and pushed back from the bar, motioning to turn away from her and back to his friends. “I can handle my liquor just fine, thank you.”

She cleared her throat, catching his attention. “Actually, just last weekend, you threw up all over the parking lot. My poor Pops had to clean it up.” She chuckled at the memory of her father, grumbling with a bucket and mop in hand, as John sat with his head in his hands in the front office. “You might not remember it, John, but I do. We all do.” The incident had occurred well before closing time, so many of the bar’s customers had seen it with their own eyes. One or two had surely caught it on camera.

“Are you fucking mocking me?” A vein popped out on his neck, his face growing read and hot.

She felt her pulse rise in fear, but she ignored it, hand resting next to the knife on the counter. “Maybe I am.” She leaned forward, leering at him. “What are you going to do about it?”

“What am I going to do about it?” He laughed incredulously, picking up his half-full glass and examining its amber-colored contents briefly before hurling it at the mirrored wall behind her.

She ducked, shielding her face from splattering liquid and broken glass. “Shit.” She dropped onto her hands and knees and crawled, frantically clambering below the bar for the cleaning cupboard. She knew how this encounter would go, but she was starting to realize that she shouldn’t have pushed it. He had never actually threatened her physical harm before, resigning himself to simply being an asshole. Tonight, that had obviously changed.

“Nuh-uh, where the fuck do you think you’re going?” His voice was still loud enough to pierce her eardrums over the pulsating music. He reached down to where she was, grasping for Windex in the dusty, cavernous cabinet, and roughly gripped her hair in his fist. He pulled up harshly, causing an unpleasant sting to radiate down her scalp. The breath caught in her throat. 

She had fucked up. Badly.

He wrenched her close, until their faces were just inches apart. He examined her face, his own visage arranged in an unpleasant sneer. She looked straight into his eyes, unwilling to back down, even though she was frightened of what he might do. 

“I should put you in your place.” His voice was quiet, only audible to her. She shuddered, lip curling in distaste. The sour taste of bile rose on her tongue at the violating way his eyes scanned her face, as if he were a predator examining his prey. A few patrons were watching, pausing their conversations to watch the show. But, none were helping, jumping up to arrive at her aid. A dark pit grew in her stomach at the observation.

He loosened his grip on her hair and she moved to pull back, but before she could, he spit in her face, a thick, hot wad of saliva landing on her cheek. Her mouth gaped in disgust, nose flaring, and she stepped back, wiping the insult from her face with her sleeve and slipping the knife she had been using earlier into her hand, concealing it behind her back. She retreated until her back was flush with the mirror behind her, eyes flitting wildly, trying to find a gap in the crowd where she could disappear and distance herself from him. But all she could see was his face, his hooked nose and hooded eyes, that awful, sneering expression, as he prepared to jump over the bar and bridge the gap between them. 

But, before he could, his head slammed into the bar’s wooden surface with a sickening crack!

Her mouth dropped open in confusion, the rushing bout of adrenaline quickly waning in her veins as she took in the sight of John, head pinned to the counter by a gloved hand. Wait, is that--?

Her suspicions were confirmed when she looked up from John’s floundering figure to find Bucky, his hand firmly wrapped in John’s hair, his face contorted in an expression of rage. She had never seen him like this, nose scrunched, eyes dark. His eyes briefly flickered to hers, and when their gazes met, his face softened slightly, as if to provide her with some sense of reassurance. The breath stalled in her throat, but before relief could flood into her limbs, she saw John stirring in Bucky’s grip.

“What… what the fuck, man?” John turned his head, cheek pressed against the bar’s cool surface, to stare at Bucky out of the corner of his eye.

“Watch yourself, buddy.” Bucky’s voice was gruff and uncaring.

“Buddy?” John scoffed. 

“Well, what’s your name, then?”

A laugh rose in John’s throat, bubbling over into a bitter, joyless sound. He was trying to intimidate Bucky into backing off, shifting his weight below him in an effort to distract him.

It didn’t work. Bucky simply pressed John’s face even harder into the counter, until the breath whooshed from John’s lips in a muffled, defeated gasp. 

“I asked you a question.”

“Fine-- fine. Name’s Walker.”

“Well, Walker,” Bucky replied, leaning in close until his face obstructed John’s vision. “Keep your fucking mitts off my girl here.”

“What?” She couldn’t help it as the question left her lips in a surprised gasp. Bucky’s eyes flicked up to her again, lips pulling down in an embarrassed grimace, as if he hadn’t meant to call her that. 

That moment was enough time for John to act.

Bucky grunted and stumbled back a couple of steps as John pushed out from under him. There was no time to think, no time to act, before John strode towards Bucky and socked him straight in the nose, Bucky’s head whipping violently to the side.

(Y/N)’s heart plummeted into her stomach. She stayed anchored to her spot in front of the mirror, unable to move. There wasn’t much that she could do. Now that John had initiated a physical fight, he likely wasn’t going to stop throwing punches until either he or Bucky collapsed. And with Bucky eliminated as a threat, there would be no one standing between John and her. With that thought, she brought the knife out from behind her and clutched it to her chest like a lifeline. She watched Bucky and John with rapt attention, waiting for the fight to turn back in her direction again.

Blood began to gush from Bucky’s nostrils in a thick stream, staining his lips a wet scarlet and dribbling down his chin. But, he smiled, shaking his head slightly and chuckling darkly. 

“You’re really askin’ for it now, Walker.” 

Before (Y/N) could even blink, Bucky sprung, landing a jab and a right cross that hit John square in the chin. He grabbed John by the collar and slammed him into his knee, the pure force knocking the wind out of John’s chest with a meek groan. Bucky pushed John roughly into a table and John stumbled, causing a chair to clatter and fall, but he remained upright, leaning heavily against the table.

“You going to fight back at all?” Bucky’s goading tone took (Y/N) by surprise. Why was he egging him on?

John snorted and cracked his neck, trying to shake an encroaching sense of uncertainty from his limbs. He pushed off from the table and began a slow, circling orbit around the center of the room, sizing Bucky up with a violent, wolflike gaze, pushing the other customers flush against the wall. Bucky simply stood in place and watched, trying to anticipate John’s next move.

John stopped circling when he was directly across from (Y/N), Bucky between them. She felt John’s gaze slide from Bucky to her, his eyes languidly raking over her body, sensing out her fear. When he saw the knife in her hand, he raised an eyebrow in disapproval, shaking his head. Her heart pounded, adrenaline beginning to thrum through her veins once more. 

John widened his stance and bent his knees, assuming an athletic stance in preparation to tackle Bucky.  Bucky imitated his movement, planting his feet firmly into the floor. John inhaled deeply through his nose, once, twice, and then, he took off, running towards Bucky at full speed.

The room watched in silence, holding a collective breath. The only sound was the pounding of John’s boots against hardwood, the music paused long ago.

He hit Bucky with the force of a mack truck. It was enough to knock anyone off their feet, even someone who had fared as well as Bucky in the fight so far. John hit him so hard that they went flying, suspended in the air for a moment. For (Y/N), it felt so much longer, watching her savior struggle against the grip of his opponent in midair, uttering a quiet “Shit!” as his back slammed into the floor. And then, Bucky was still, John crouched over his immobile form, a triumphant smile plastered on his face.

(Y/N) felt her body move off its own accord, pushing away from the wall, past the safety of the bar’s counter, towards the aftermath of the fray. Her legs quivered, a hard lump rising in her throat as she pushed towards the edge of the crowd. She couldn’t see Bucky’s face, his head concealed by John’s hulking body. A shudder wracked her body, her hope waning.

It was like John could sense her presence. He looked up, his sickening grin showing glistening, too-white teeth. She flexed her fingers, adjusting her grip on the knife. John’s eyes caught the movement, sensing the glint of low light against the blade, and he smirked. He was about to rock back onto his knees, to get up and finish what he started, when Bucky’s head slammed into his.

Disoriented, (Y/N) stepped backwards, once again flush with the crowd. One moment, she had been preparing to fight, to let the blood-soaked evening devolve into even more violence. Then, the next, Bucky had suddenly reanimated, an almost superhuman force driving power into his limbs. He bucked John, still reeling from the unexpected headbutt, off of him with an aggressive, thrusting twist. John tumbled and collapsed on the floor next to Bucky, who slowly knelt, then stood, eyes on John the whole time. When John didn’t budge, splayed on the floor with a distant, vaguely dazed expression, Bucky turned his gaze to (Y/N).

The room was dead silent, save for John’s labored breathing and the sound of Bucky’s boots against the hardwood as he slowly walked towards (Y/N). The room seemed to fade around the two of them, the confused, awed, and fearful faces of the spectating patrons blurred together in an anonymous mass. It smelled of sweat and rust and spilled liquor, but she didn’t care, because Bucky was okay.

“Anyone else?” Bucky asked the rest of the room, not taking his eyes off of (Y/N), even for a moment, lest she disappear, or worse. But she didn’t, staying rooted to the same spot, eyes glistening with gratitude. And no one responded to Bucky’s challenge. 

When Bucky came to a stop a foot in front of her, the other customers began to quietly file out, afraid to utter any remarks that may provoke another altercation. John’s two cronies picked him up from the floor, hefting his arms over their shoulders and bolting for the exit, his boots dragging on the floor. (Y/N) watched them exit, watched them stuff John into the backseat of their car before they peeled out of the parking lot and took off with the screeching sound of retreating rubber.

“You know,” Bucky said, his voice soft in spite of the evening’s violent course. “You don’t have to worry about using that. You’re safe with me.” He pointed at the knife, still clutched in (Y/N)’s hands.

She looked down at the knife in her hands and then looked up at him, formulating a response, when she noticed that he had a gash on his jaw, as well as a still steadily-flowing nosebleed. The knife clattered to the floor as she reached for his hand. “You’re bleeding.” Her voice was thick with worry, regretting the fact that he had suffered for her sake.

He shook his head. “I’ve gotten worse.”

“Let me help you.” She glanced urgently around the bar, now empty save for the two of them. “I can close up and bring the first aid kit to your room. I owe you, after all of that.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He paused for a second, considering. “But, sure. A couple of bandaids wouldn’t hurt.”

She smiled. “I’ll be there in ten.”

His brows creased together slightly, a chagrined smile curling his lips upwards. “Oh, I’m not leaving you alone just yet. We didn’t see where Walker went. He could be waiting just outside with those two other guys.”

She knew that both she and Bucky had seen them drive away, but she nodded anyways. “Alright. Just let me grab the first aid kit and my keys.”

“Deal.”

She picked the knife up from the floor and walked back to the bar, placing it gently in the sink. As Bucky walked towards the entrance, surveying the parking lot outside from the small, frosted window, she reached into the cabinet of cleaning supplies, pulling out a rusted, white box with a blaring maroon cross emblazoned on its front. She blew off the thin layer of dust that coated it and stood, grabbing her keys from the hook next to the mirror and joining Bucky at the entrance.

He turned towards her, noting the first aid kit, and grinned. “Room 102, here we come.”

She returned his smile as he opened the door, midnight air washing over them in a brisk, drafty waft. They stepped outside, engulfed in nighttime chill, and she shut the door and locked it, fumbling with the cold metal of the keys. Bucky stepped closer to her, his arm brushing against hers, his body emanating an intoxicating warmth. She welcomed his proximity, wondering if he could sense the fact that she was cold, as they walked across the parking lot to his motel room.

He pulled his key from his back pocket and slid it through the card swipe, the door unlocking with a crisp click. She was looking out at the parking lot, at the trees and darkness beyond, wondering if John and his friends were in fact lurking out there somewhere, biding their time for the right moment to strike again. He was definitely the type to hold a grudge for a night like this. If he didn’t retaliate tonight, he would soon, would let her soak in the fear for a few days and then arrive at the bar unannounced with dues to pay.

Bucky cleared his throat, and (Y/N)’s attention snapped back to him. She looked up at him, eyes wide and surprised, and found that his smile was gentle and knowing. 

“You’re safe with me. Come on, let’s get inside. It’s cold.”

When they stepped inside, they were greeted with a welcoming warmth. The door shut behind them. He walked over to the little oak nightstand next to the single queen-sized bed and turned on the bedside lamp, its bulb washing the room in a dim, glowing halo of amber. She sighed, muscles relaxing, seeming to melt into the warmth, into the comfort of being somewhere besides the bar. She placed the first aid kit on the bed and shrugged off her cardigan.

“So, doc,” Bucky teased, approaching her at the foot of the bed. “What’s the plan? How’re you going to fix me up?”

“Well,” she said, squinting as she examined his face. “We’ll have to wash all that blood off first, so I can assess the damage.”

He gestured to the bathroom with one hand. “Lead the way.”

They walked into the bathroom and he flipped the light on, its white fluorescence a stark contrast from the soft light in the other room. She grabbed a bleach-white washcloth from the shelf above the toilet and turned on the faucet, dampening the cloth under the steady stream of water. She turned off the faucet and stepped back as Bucky leaned against the sink, crossing his arms.

“This might sting,” she said quietly, stepping into the space between his legs, his stance framing hers. He simply nodded in response. She tried not to think about their sudden proximity, the fact that she was alone in a motel room with a man who had risked his own safety to protect hers, a man she had been secretly pining over for a while now. Instead, she smoothed the wet washcloth in her hands and brought it up to his face, dabbing gingerly at a stream of blood that had dried on his cheek. When she brushed against the cut on his jaw, he winced, a sharp huff of breath leaving his nose.

“Sorry,” she apologized, trying to handle the cloth with light fingers. “He really got you there.”

“Even if that’s true, part of me thinks I should thank the guy.”

(Y/N) paused. “W-what?”

“Well, he’s an absolute ass. Deserved what he got,” he chuckled. “But now, I’ve got the pretty girl who works at my favorite bar taking care of me. It was definitely worth a couple of scrapes.”

“I--” her response died in her throat, choked by the deep blush that was creeping up her neck. She paused dabbing at his face, looking at him quizzically.

“Sorry,” he said quickly, noting her creased brow and parted lips. “Too soon.”

“No-- no. It’s okay.” She shook her head and smiled, moving the washcloth to his upper lip as she wiped away the evidence of his bloody nose. I just didn’t think you felt that way, too.

After a few more minutes of tense silence, (Y/N) trying to avoid direct eye contact the whole time, lest her blush return, his face was clean. She stepped back and examined her handiwork before throwing the bloodied washcloth in the waste bin and leading Bucky back into the main room. She sat down on the bed, its springs groaning in a rusty bounce beneath her, and she opened the first aid kit, searching for a suitable bandage for his jaw. He knelt on the floor in front of her, placing his hands on the bed on either side of her, caging her in with his arms but refusing to let his touch drift any closer without permission. He watched her fingers flit indecisively between the different band-aid choices. 

Finally, she plucked one from its box, carefully unpeeling its wrapping. Bucky tilted his head slightly, allowing her easy access to the cut on his jaw, and she delicately placed the band-aid over it, careful not to press too hard against the tender skin. Her touch unconsciously lingered a moment longer, lightly caressing his face with the pads of her fingers. But after a few seconds, when she didn’t pull away, they both inhaled sharply, his face quickly growing hot. Their eyes met, and she dropped her hands to her sides, his piercing blue gaze boring into hers.

 He blinked and stood, walking over to the door and hunching down to glance at the parking lot through the peephole.

“I should get going,” (Y/N) said, voice hushed as she snapped the first aid kit shut. She stood, grabbing her cardigan, preparing to meet the cold outside and run to her permanent room. “Thank you. For everything.”

He turned away from the door. “Hold on.” His voice was grave, a stark contrast to the light, flirty turn of the evening since they had entered his room. “We still don’t know if he’s out there.”

(Y/N) bit her lip and shifted her weight, silently grateful for his hesitancy to let her be alone. “What are you suggesting?”

“You can take the bed.” He gestured to the spot on the carpet between the bed and the door. “I can take the floor.”

“A-are you sure?” 

“If I was in your position, I wouldn’t want to be alone,” he said, voice rough and quiet. “But, it’s your decision to make. I can walk you back to your room, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

She thought for a second. She agreed with Bucky’s observation that John may still be out there, lying in wait, and he had been spot-on with the remark that it would be frightening to be alone after tonight’s violence. So far, Bucky had proven himself to be good. She felt comfortable around him. He didn’t try to touch her, and he still gave her options, despite the fact that he seemed oddly protective of her. She knew that he wouldn’t hurt her, that he wouldn’t try to slip into bed next to her in the darkest hours of morning. He was a good man. He would live up to his promise and give her space, acting as a blockade between her and the outside world. For tonight, he would be the promise of warmth, of comfort, of safety.

“I think I’d be more comfortable here. With you.”

“Alright.” He offered a simple reply, walking over to her and taking the first aid kit and her cardigan from her, placing them on top of the dresser. “You’ll be safe with me,” he reassured her, bending down to look her in the eyes when he said it, uttering each word with heavy truth.

She nodded and bit her lip. When she felt her blush creeping back up her face, those stern, icy blue eyes of his fixated on her, she turned away, directing her attention towards the bed, hands smoothing over the covers. She grabbed a pillow, its blanched case stiff and rough from continual washing, and handed it to him. He smiled and took it, humming a low laugh and placing it on the floor next to the bed.

She pulled back the sheets as he went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Her eyelids were suddenly heavy, her body absolutely exhausted, but grateful for a safe place to rest after the day’s peril. She felt herself lull into a hypnotic state of rest before she could even pull the covers over her body, listening to the rumble of the motel’s heater and the whoosh of cars driving past on the distant highway.

Bucky finished in the bathroom and tiptoed to the closet. He grabbed the extra blanket from the top shelf, its woolen fabric starchy and coarse, and plopped it onto the floor next to his pillow. Then, he looked down at (Y/N), curled up on the bed, already halfway into a dream. He sighed, a soft smile gracing his lips, and he reached for the blankets on the bed, pulling them up over her sedated form. She shifted under the covers, settling into their warmth, and he turned off the bedside lamp, the room submerged in a sudden, but not unwelcome, darkness.

                                                             ✧

She woke to light streaming through the gap in the curtains.

The room smelled of lavender detergent and carpet cleaner, and of something distinctly masculine and unfamiliar, the scent of mint toothpaste and rainfall. She stretched, her body grateful for a restful night as memories of the previous day trickled back in. John’s threats, Bucky’s heroism. Her shyness, her inability to tell him how she felt, despite the fact that he so clearly reciprocated those feelings he had hinted at.

She sat up in bed and looked around the room. On the floor next to her, the spare blanket was folded neatly, the pillow she had given to Bucky the previous night stacked on top of it. His duffel was gone from its perch on the dresser. Any trace of him had disappeared, save for the scent that hung in the air and the memories that clung to (Y/N)’s brain.

She sighed, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and standing up. She had a lot of work to do today. She supposed that she should probably clean up the bar after last night’s incident, and should break open the cleaning supplies that she had left untouched for so long. She wished that she had had the chance to say goodbye to Bucky before he left, a faint sense of longing gripping her throat. But, at least the cleaning would take her mind off of that, for the time being.

As she stood, she brushed through her hair roughly with her fingers, gathering the first aid kit and her cardigan. She surveyed the room one last time, bathed in soft morning light, when a square of white on the nightstand caught her eye.

Brows furrowed with confusion, she walked over, abandoning her things on the bed. On the nightstand was a notepad, an uncapped pen sitting next to it. A brief note was scribbled on it.

Call me if he comes back. 

Or, if you need me. For anything.

-Bucky

The message was followed by a phone number.

(Y/N) ripped the note from the pad and stared at Bucky’s slanted, spiked handwriting for a moment, noting the sharp angles and rushed script of his letters.

She stuffed the note in her back pocket and smiled.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

“You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.