#the gym I’m using is a 35 minute walk away because the one that is 6 minutes away was going to charge me €102 for a month

[waugh-bao]

*

[neoheros]

sneaking out headcanons feat. gym 3 squad ♡ — also this is all gonna be set in an au before or without the quarantine, so don’t leave your house please!! social distancing is important and people are dying!!

kuroo tetsuro

listen LISTEN

sneaking out is terrible and you should never do it because it’s dangerous and risky

and you as the woke and understanding gen z that you are definitely respected that

but , BUT , BUUUUT !

the minute your boyfriend snapped you a photo of him in his car with him rubbing his tired eyes captioned “couldn’t sleep, dreamt of u”

your morals were OUT THE WINDOW and now it was your turn >:// !!!

kuroo: i know it’s 4 am but what’re the chances you’d hop out for a quick trip to chick-fil-a 👉👈

you, purposely taking two minutes to reply: why are you still awake

kuroo, who knows you like the back of his hand: babe don’t lie to me, it’s embarrassing for the both of us x

so you agree !! because it was kuroo, the love of your life, the man you’d simp for, and he’s paying for food so hell fricken yeah

you throw on a hoodie, lock your doors, fluff up the bed to make it look like someone was sleeping in it just in case and you gently make your way towards your window

due to personal reasons, you want to pass away

you suddenly remember why you hated sneaking out and boy — the food kuroo was buying you better be worth it

the only way you were actually gonna get down from your two story house that idiotically doesn’t have a roof ledge was if you grab onto the tv satellite that latched by the sill

from your window you see kuroo’s car parked by the trash cans near your house and he’s got his windshield down signaling at you

mfer pulled out his phone from his pocket and waved as he zooms closer to your figure and he SMILED ?

you were in a dilemma?? and he had the audacity???? the fricken audacity???

kuroo, snapping you the vid he took: babe please you’re so cute you look like a tiny gremlin

you: had me in the first half, not gonna lie

it was a MOMENT for you !! but you just say what the hell and go for it anyways because you only live once apparently and sneaking out with your boyfriend at 4 am was better than sleeping

you grab onto the satellite ridge and you pray for mercy that it doesn’t make a sound or loosen up because if anyone found out you were doing this it was definitely kuroo’s ass on the line

while you’re struggling to get down, kuroo’s just in the car ??? laughing his ass off at your current state and you swear that he’s still taking photos

you get down on the cement safely and instead of him pulling up closer to your drive way naaaah he makes you walk to where he was at 😤

you, getting in the car: if i dump you by the end of tonight, just know that the only reason why i didn’t do it sooner is because i wanted food

kuroo, putting on your seatbelt: we’ll get back together in the morning, i’m not worried

so the two of you make your way to chick-fil-a, get food via drivethru and eat in the parking lot with the doors open and the windows down

he still looks very tired and before you even realize it it’s already 6 in the morning

you catch him yawn every few minutes and he always reassures you that he didn’t mind staying up this late :(

he’s baby

kuroo: lets get you home, are you gonna dump me yet?

you, kissing his cheek: no, i kinda love you

kuroo, less sleepy with a lazy smile on his face: aha simp

tsukishima kei

bro if you think he’s a goody two shoes boy who won’t ask you to sneak out at like 2 in the morning , you are so wrong

canonically, he is the most devious and logical character in the entire anime and if he wants to go out with you before the crack of dawn — he fricken will !!

he’s gonna be so sly about it too, nah, he gon make you think it’s your idea to sneak out

tsukki, texting you a tiktok of homemade shrimp rotini at 2:35 am: look what yamaguchi sent me

yamaguchi, who fell asleep three hours ago and absolutely is not in any state to send tiktoks:

so you’re there like ??????

bruv you were just tryna scroll through your twitter feed in peace, why the hell would he send you that like that’s so uncool

because now you were sleep deprived and hungry

you, close to tears: does your house in hell have a pool or

tsukishima, unnerved: i don’t like the concept of swimming

he’s gonna go on about how he didn’t realize what he did and how he’s kinda sorry for waking your hunger but you weren’t born yesterday !! you smelled BS !!

so you facetime him, ready to go off on how unsorry he is and you can already imagine the shit eating grin he must’ve had on

he answers after three rings and he’s in a MFING yellow hoodie with the dinosaur print in the middle, his hair neatly tucked and you just know that he’s got his keys on his fingertips

you, defeated: i’ve been played

tsukishima, heading out the front door: i deny all accusations

you’re not even upset though because this was a perfect opportunity to try the stability of your roof ledge and tbh? who wasn’t unreasonably hungry at 3 am

turns out climbing out your window was harder than you thought and you may or may not have gotten two new bruises on your wrist just by trying

safe to assume that you fell on your ass and since the universe has a particular hatred towards you, your boyfriend arrived at the perfect time to witness all of it

tsukishima: how are you gonna kiss me when you’re too busy kissing the ground

you, tears on your cheeks: if i wanted a bully instead of a boyfriend i would’ve SAID SO

when you get in his car, the first thing he does is ask if you’re okay though and he’s checking your wrists and hands for any scratches or bleeding because 🥺

tsukki: you’re such a clumsy idiot what the hell

tsukki, kicking down the pavement when you’re not paying attention: 💢🪓

you guys end up going to numerous places because most of the drivethrus in town were already closed

you see him get tired behind the steering wheel and you almost have the urge to offer to drive but you didn’t really feel like crashing his car any day soon so

you: lets just head to starbucks hm? get some coffee?

tsukishima, feeling bad because he knows you wanted to get food: we don’t have to

you, in love with him: if you say no i will willingly walk all the way to starbucks by myself , what , you think i won’t do it

so you guys go there and order a couple double shot espressos with a side of scones and muffins and the entire time you’re just trying not to shiver because name one starbucks you’ve been to that hasn’t been unreasonably cold huh i dare you

he notices this and he gives you his hoodie and ITS JUST THE SOFTEST THING OKAY BECAUSE HE’S COLD TOO BUT HE JUST WANTS YOU WARM

you: i knew it, you love me too huh 😌

tsukishima: unfortunately so

akaashi keiji

AKAASHI IS LEGALLY THE BEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD !!

like he cannot be a bad boyfriend ?? it’s impossible for him to be so ?????? he’s just built that way ????

he’s the ultimate mixture of respect and self love , god was just like “let’s make this one perfect !!”

he’s DRIPPING in love each other juice and he eats kindness for breakfast so ha !

he physically cannot say no to you because he flat out adores you

( except when he feels like you’re wrong or being irrational to which he’ll politely correct you and educate you because that’s on what? that’s on having a healthy relationship ♡ )

so when you hit him up at 5:23 in the morning after a series of tiktoks that he has yet to see and react to you about, he’s kinda alarmed

but then again he’s also not ?? because let’s face it, at this point, he’s used to you spamming his inbox

the last thing you sent him two minutes ago was a text saying “bro just imagine this: you and me at a maccas drivethru with two oreo flurry’s and a box of 20 piece chicken nuggets — immaculate”

and you didn’t really expect him to reply?

it was five am and you were absolutely shit talking but when you saw his face time status go online you were just like ?????

akaashi, snapping you a pic of him under his covers with very tired eyes: it’s 5:27 am

you, sending him back a photo of you and the 2000 piece puzzle you spent the last two hours doing: that’s not a no 💅

he doesn’t reply and you’re not really upset by it because he probably just fell asleep and that was really cute to you so !!

but then two minutes later he’s facetiming you and you JUMP at the sudden ringing

he’s all tired and his voice is groggy and tight but he’s still smiling as he says “i’ll see you in ten”

YOU ARE !!!! PUMPED !!!!!

you won the boyfriend lottery , holy hell

now the only thing keeping you from seeing your man and the mcdonald’s sign was the eleven foot gap between your window and the solid concrete

you’d usually take the stairs but you just know that your mom would absolutely murder you for trying to sneak out when you should be asleep 💆‍♀️

it was either climbing out by clawing through the pipes or not being able to give akaashi a hug and you were not gonna let that second one happen

akaashi, after reading your two paragraph rant on how unnatural it was for your window to be that high: please be careful

you, haven’t slept in 32 hours: screw careful ! i embody elegance !!

in which elegance was screaming every time your pipes squeaked because dear mercy you did not want to die yet

akaashi, who just pulled up your drive way and is now seeing you almost fall to the ground:

you, on the verge of tears: please catch me

AND he does 🥺

it was a close call and he barely even made it to you when you chose to let go but HE DID ANYWAYS

you kinda fell on him rather than landing smoothly in his arms but that’s okay you were just glad you didn’t die

when you both get in his car, he just takes a hot sec to dust you off and ask if you’re okay and he’s so concerned please tell him you’re fine

he’s such a baby please i can’t believe this shit

the two of you end up in a mcdonald’s parking lot with doja cat blaring on the radio and you guys do your best to hold back your laughter as you eat

it was pretty cold and the sun was rising but honestly you couldn’t find the urge to care since the moment just felt so surreal

you: i’m sorry for waking you btw 🥺

akaashi, showing you his new lock screen which is the picture he took of you when he first saw you climb out the window:

you: i’m less sorry

bokuto koutaro

BOYFRIEND OF THE MFING YEAR

i accept no arguments, go cry about it

i literally don’t care what anyone has to say, bokuto is the only man ever ? he’s so deserving of every right on earth i’ll cry

the way that this is the third night in a row he’s stayed up til 4 am and he’s not even alarmed about it

like at this point he’s just accepted that he is nocturnal and that’s that on that !

before he actually had the idea to ask you to sneak out for him, he debated whether or not it was worth it

you needed sleep and you barely got any so when he knew you were resting he absolutely refused to message you :(

but then he also thought about how you would love to have a large dunkin iced coffee right now

and he was already getting ready for his morning fix so why not just ask harmlessly?

if you weren’t going to respond then he’d be okay with that because he knew that you were resting well

but if you were going to answer his consecutive texts with a positive reply then HE IS 🥺 over the moon

you, barely awake: can we get a venti triple shot latté instead , my caffeine tolerance is SHOT

bokuto, snapping you back within a minute: babe you are delusional if you think i’m gonna let you drink that

so it’s 5 am and your parents are in the other room asleep but you know that their jobs start pretty early so you had to get a move on

your room wasn’t that high from the ground to be honest, so you weren’t really worried about falling off

what you were worried about was how dizzy and out of depth the melatonin gummies made you because in order to fall asleep you took 3 and now that you basically forced yourself out of a self induced coma, your body was on the verge of passing away

bokuto tells you that he doesn’t mind if you’re not up for the trip and he’d just bring you back your coffee BUT NAH

you’re not a quitter 🤬 you miss your boyfriend and you are gonna do whatever it takes to spend some quality morning time with him !!!!!

so you throw on a proper outfit, make your way through your window and gently do your best to refrain from yelping every time your hand would slip from the railing that’s keeping your balance

bokuto, pulling up seeing you on your roof: you’re so strong 🥺👉👈

you, barely alive: all for you baby ❤️

he helps you get down from where you stood and he had the prettiest smile on earth i SWEAR when you immediately sank in his cold chest

he apologizes for making you sneak out like that BUT NUH UH YOU DO NOT LET HIM

he is a gift !!! and you knew how tired he must’ve been too since he kept yawning but he still took the time and energy to pick you up 🥺

he fastens your seatbelt in the car and puts the windows up because he knew that the air would get in your face and you didn’t like that

he even brought you a spare hoodie of his because he remembered how much you swooned over this particular fabric

bokuto: we’ll get you some coffee but you can sleep while i drive, ok babe?

you, trying not to cry: are you single because i really want to kiss you

bokuto, kissing your cheek: i’m dating someone i’m sorry

[qitwrites]

⬅ Previous || 22 || Next ➡

Present Mic [6:17] i wonder what the new class 1a will be like

Eraserhead [6:25] Don’t get too attached

Eraserhead [6:27] I’ll probably expel them all before the end of the first week

Present Mic [6:29] SHOTA NO

Eraserhead [6:33] lol

---

Present Mic [10:09] are you free in the afternoon?

Eraserhead [10:23] No

Present Mic [10:25] are you saying no just for the sake of it or because youre actually busy?

Eraserhead [10:32] Does it matter?

Present Mic [10:35] it’s the principle of the thing

Present Mic [10:37] i know you luv me

Eraserhead [10:42] still a no

Present Mic [10:44] youre no fun

Eraserhead [10:55] I know. And with my luck, the troublemakers will probably raze the school to the ground.

Present Mic [10:57] youre such a ray of sunshine

Eraserhead [11:03] I’ve been burned too many times. I do not trust them. At all.

Present Mic [11:06] fair enough. well, I was going to invite you out to that new cat café that opened up nearby, but since youre busy I’ll probably take vlad or something.

Eraserhead [11:08] Let the school burn.

Present Mic [11:10] AHAHAHAHAHA

Present Mic [11:13] Meet me at the gate at 12:30, we both have a long lunch today.

---

Present Mic [9:10] your kids are something else

Eraserhead [9:22] Not my kids. And yes. They are something else.

Eraserhead [9:25] Definitely not human. Too problematic for that.

Eraserhead [9:27] Gremlins. The lot of them.

Present Mic [9:30] rein it in Shota, I can feel the love from across the phone

Eraserhead [9:35] hahaha no

Present Mic [9:37] L(*OεV*)E

Eraserhead [9:40] You are literally 30 years old, why are you using emoticons?

Present Mic [9:42] 1) Emoticons are ageless you grandpa

Present Mic [9:44] 2) who even calls them emoticons lol

Eraserhead [9:48] Go away

Present Mic [9:50] nah, you’d miss me too much and then die of loneliness

Present Mic [9:52] or boredom

Present Mic [9:54] or both

Present Mic [9:55] and I DO NOT want to take charge of your gremlins sorry

Eraserhead [9:58] how do you manage to give me a headache over the phone?

Present Mic [10:01] LOL im just super duper special Shota you know this already

Eraserhead [10:04] I hate everything

Present Mic [10:07] everything but me

Present Mic [10:07] <3

---

Present Mic [3:19] I thin k I saw

Present Mic [3:20] Aoyama fling himself at Ojiro

Present Mic [3:22] and Ojiro didn’t even?? Blink???

Present Mic [3:25] just caught him, adjusted his grip and then put him down and went about his day

Present Mic [3:26] wth????

Eraserhead [3:33] Don’t even ask

---

Eraserhead [2:12] Don’t go to the gym in Building D

Present Mic [2:15] ok but like

Present Mic [2:16] why?????

Eraserhead [2:19] class 1a meets watermelons

Present Mic [2:22] what does that even mean

Eraserhead [2:25] You don’t want to know

Eraserhead [2:27] Trust me

Present Mic [2:30] lol okie i’ll get the deets from you later anyway :P

---

Present Mic [11:23] I know you’re in the hospital right now so you wont see this and you cant respond

Present Mic [11:26] I’m sitting next to you as I type this actually

Present Mic [11:27] you look like a ridiculous mummy man btw

Present Mic [11:31] but im so proud of you Shota

Present Mic [11:32] You saved every one of your kids and it nearly cost you your life

Present Mic [11:35] and I hate you for almost dying

Present Mic [11:37] But you did so good

Present Mic [11:40] come back soon ok?

---

Eraserhead [8:17] Hey

Eraserhead [8:18] Thanks again for babysitting Eri so last minute

Eraserhead [8:19] How is she?

Present Mic [8:21] don’t say thank you ew

Present Mic [8:22] I love this girl I’ll watch her any time you want me to

Present Mic [8:24] she’s doing good! need to use my indoor voice though, she scares too easily

Eraserhead [8:27] If you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask

Eraserhead [8:29] And get her to bed soon

Present Mic [8:30] Shota

Present Mic [8:31] we went over this

Present Mic [8:33] u literally told me everything I need to know and then some

Present Mic [8:34] u also gave me the letter with all the details so im fine, we’re both fine

Present Mic [8:35] if youre on break, do you want to say goodnight real quick?

<incoming call: Eraserhead>

<call finished>

Eraserhead [8:47] thanks Hizashi

Present Mic [8:48] ew

Present Mic [8:50] but youre welcome <3

---

Eraserhead [10:15] Hey, where are you?

Eraserhead [10:17] Satou made a rainbow croquembouche, and it’s really good

Eraserhead [10:19] ive got the whole thing to the teachers lounge

Present Mic [10:23] IM SORRY A WHAT NOW?

Eraserhead [10:27] <image attached>

Present Mic [10:28] OH WOW YOU LITERALLY MEANT A RAINBOW CROQUEMBOUCHE

Present Mic [10:29] that’s??? amazing??????

Eraserhead [10:33] Tastes better than it looks

Present Mic [10:35] lies

Present Mic [11:42] so turns out you weren’t lying

Eraserhead [12:59] HA

Eraserhead [1:01] Told you

---

Present Mic [7:12] hey you ok?

Present Mic [7:13] you just walked by me with a serious look on your face

Eraserhead [7:34] Yeah im fine

Eraserhead [7:35] just caught some problem children making s’mores over Todoroki

Present Mic [7:37] uh huh

Present Mic [7:38] I mean

Present Mic [7:40] its kinda ingenious if you think about it

Eraserhead [7:42] That’s the part that bugs me

Eraserhead [7:43] I need a raise

Present Mic [7:45] lol don’t we all

---

Eraserhead [4:32] Hey

Present Mic [4:40] Hey

Eraserhead [4:42] I don’t say this enough, but Im here for you

Eraserhead [4:43] Always

Present Mic [4:53] I know

Present Mic [4:56] Thanks

Eraserhead [4:58] Never have to thank me Hizashi

Eraserhead [5:00] I’ve got your back

---

Present Mic [6:12] so I just saw some of the problem kids in the courtyard

Eraserhead [6:20] …. And?

Present Mic [6:23] and our resident fave angry blond was perched on top of strong boy Kirishima

Eraserhead [6:29] AND?

Present Mic [6:33] And I heard something about Bakugou’s quirk and human jetpack

Eraserhead [6:35] oh no

Eraserhead [6:37] oh no

Present Mic [6:40] just thought I’d let you know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Eraserhead [9:03] 2 ankle sprains, second degree burns and 1.4 singed eyebrows

Eraserhead [9:06] I hate everything

---

[kuroopaisen]

the in-between | ii (kuroo tetsurou)

➵  it took you and kuroo far too long to learn that love was never singularly defined. it can be both striking and understated, sudden and unhurried, gentle and all-consuming. and most of all, it can be anything else in-between.

wc: 7.9k (part 2 of 3) 

warnings: f!reader, mentions of anxiety & depression (kind of), cursing, reader is a g@mer girl in one part, persona 5 spoilers (kinda), dog??

a/n: once again a big thank you to @w-yuren T-T thanks for making this legible. also, obaa-chan is the familiar term for one’s grandmother!

m. list | ch. 1  ↞ ch. 2 ↠ ch. 3

You supposed you felt a little bad for revelling in the fact that the third years were leaving the club. Them leaving meant Kenma would finally know some peace, safe from their heckling. It was difficult to work up any sadness at your upperclassmen’s departure, even if you had spent a substantial amount of time with them. 

But, that little nugget of quasi-guilt was absolutely trumped by the sheer delight of seeing Kuroo be handed the mantle of captain. 

You weren’t surprised. There’s something of a natural leader to him, and he was already doing a great job of holding the first and second years together. His fellow year-mates were positively beaming as congratulations rang throughout the gym, Kuroo’s cheeks flushed a little with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. 

You were waiting your turn to congratulate him, heart full just from watching him get the praise that he deserved. You were happy to observe, really. Especially when he looked so honoured, so happy when Coach Naoi gave him a congratulatory pat on the back. 

Finally Kuroo turned to you, eyes bright as he held his arms out. You jumped into them on instinct, wrapping your own arms around his neck. He hoisted you off the ground in one smooth move, twirling you round. A squeal escaped you before you could stop it, but he didn’t seem to care. He was just cackling. 

You couldn’t quite tell if the thrumming in your chest was due to a short adrenaline spike or because you’re so close to him. 

He finally put you down and pulled away, his hands moving up to hold you by your shoulders. 

He smiled at you. In that moment, you thought that his features should only ever hold a smile.  

You’d always been kind of aware that Kuroo was a pretty attractive guy. He was tall, fairly muscular, and his face wasn’t too bad for a teenage boy. You’re not blind, after all. 

But this was the first time that you’d really felt it for yourself. 

He’s got a certain twinkle in his eye that you didn’t quite know how to read. For some reason, it made you feel bad. 

You tried your best not to think about it. Not while you were still in the gym. Not while the two of you got celebratory ice cream with Kenma on your way to the train station. Not while he walked you home, chatting your ear off about what his plans were for the next year. 

You just tried to distract yourself with the fact that he was so happy. 

“You know,” Kuroo sighed, looking up at the sky. “I’m not sure about this whole captain thing.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for doubts?” You scoffed. He’d spent the past hour or so being delighted by it. You’d wondered when the overthinking would kick in. Not that you could really rag on him for it, all things considered. 

“I don’t mean like that,” he shook his head, pursing his lips. “I don’t know. It’s just…” 

“Stressful?” 

“Kind of,” Kuroo shrugged. “It makes it all feel very real, you know? We’re gonna be third years soon.” 

You shivered. “Don’t remind me.” 

“You’re going to have to face reality one day, you know,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair with one hand. He was really making a habit of that, wasn’t he? 

“Hush,” you sighed, waving a hand at him. 

He was right, though. Third year was getting closer and closer. Kuroo being made captain was just a more pressing reminder. It sounded like quite the responsibility, but you knew he was up to the challenge. 

You’d spoken about it a little bit before; mostly your theories about who’d get saddled with the title. It could only really be between him and Kai, but he’d definitely seemed to express some interest. 

“This is what you wanted, right?” You asked, looking up at him. 

He gave you a half-smile. “I was kinda hoping for it, I guess.” 

“Why are you worried, then?” You asked, tilting your head at him. “Don’t tell me you’re worried you won’t be any good at it.”

“Wow, harsh!” He nudged you with his elbow, but he was grinning. 

You rolled your eyes at him, nudging him back. “You’re a great fit for it, okay?” 

“Am I?” He hummed, closing the distance between you. You didn’t feel the need to move as you walked along, arms brushing each other. 

You knew that tone of voice. He was trying to lead you in a certain direction; to say certain things. Usually compliments that he’d laud over you later. Today, you’d take the bait willingly. But just this one time. 

“You’re gonna be great at it, Tetsurou,” you sighed. “You’re more caring than you let on, you’re mature enough, and you know how to use everyone’s strengths,” you rattled off, gripping the strap of your bag with blanched knuckles. “I can’t think of anyone better for the job.” 

You weren’t lying about any of it. He knew when to reign Yamamoto in, he gave Kenma space while still pushing him to be his best, and he’d long moved past his petty rivalry with Yaku. You’d watched him look after each and every one of his teammates in little ways, and you’d seen how he’d manage to bring them together as a cohesive unit – even though he hadn’t been in any position of authority.

You weren’t going to say all of that, of course. You weren’t even sure how to put it in a way that didn’t sound exceedingly awkward. But you admired him. A lot. 

You looked up at him. He’d stopped walking, and he’d brought one of his arms up to cover his face. You stepped towards him, tilting your head. 

“You okay?”

“Mhm.” His neck was a bright scarlet. You bit back a laugh.

“Tetsurou?” 

“Just give me a minute,” he mumbled, voice all muffled.

You laughed. “What’re you all embarrassed for?”

“I didn’t think you’d say that!” He whined, dropping his arm to his side and burying his hands in his pockets. His face was just as bright as his neck. It was kind of cute. 

“Oh come on, you were practically begging me to!” You scoffed, nudging him with your shoulder. “You’re not slick, you know!”

“Okay, maybe I was fishing for compliments,” he laughed, looping an arm around your shoulders in some attempt to contain you. “But you didn’t have to get so sappy!” 

“I wasn’t even that sappy,” you rolled your eyes, leaning into him. “You really can’t handle sincerity, can you?”

“Shut up.” 

✉

[god’s least favourite] 9:34 PM: oi

[YOU] 9:34 PM: rude 

[god’s least favourite] 9:34 PM: you do realise you’ve got to show me some more respect now 

[god’s least favourite] 9:34 PM: seeing as i’m captain and all

[YOU] 9:35 PM: bold of you to think i showed you any respect in the first place 

[god’s least favourite] 9:35 PM: excuse me 

[god’s least favourite] 9:35 PM: you’re officially obligated to refer to me as captain now 

[YOU] 9:36 PM: don’t wanna 

[YOU] 9:36 PM: manager trumps captain

[YOU] 9:36 PM: just ask the boys

[YOU] 9:36 PM: they’ll side with me on this one 

[god’s least favourite] 9:39 PM: good luck with that chemistry exam :) 

[YOU] 9:39 PM: NO TETSUROU I’M SORRY 

[YOU] 9:39 PM:  I TAKE IT BACK PLEASE 

✧ ✧ ✧

Inviting you to his house shouldn’t be a big deal. You’re friends. He’d been to your house a fair few times. He got along wonderfully with your family. He had no doubts that you’d get along well with his family, too. And there was absolutely nothing weird going on between the two of you. 

But for some reason, the thought of you meeting his family sparked a little anxiety inside his chest. And it certainly wasn’t helped by how smug his family was being about the whole thing. 

He’d managed to shake off his father and his grandfather, both of whom had busied themselves in the little vegetable garden for the morning. His grandmother, however, was an entirely different challenge. 

“So.” His grandmother smiled at him, tilting her head at him in a deceptively innocent way. “You’re inviting a girl over, Tetsu?”

“It’s not like that, Obaa-chan,” Kuroo sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

“Are you sure, Tetsu?” She chuckled. “That blush on your cheeks says otherwise.” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kuroo mumbled, his brow furrowed as he poured some hot water into a little tea cup for her. 

“Well, your father and I were just innocently chatting about how you never bring girls over,” his grandmother said, her face graced with a mischievous smile. “Are you embarrassed by us, dear Tetsu?” 

“You caught me, Baa-chan,” he chuckled, using a spoon to mix a bit of honey into her tea. “I’m actually a bit of a Casanova.” 

She faked a gasp, placing an incensed hand on her chest. “Oh goodness, Tetsurou! I thought we raised you better than that!” 

“You know what they say,” Kuroo grinned. “Nature and nurture, and all that.” 

His grandmother chuckled. “Men really will find any excuse to be terrible people, won’t they?” 

He snorted at that. “Wow! I didn’t know you woke up today deciding to absolutely obliterate every man ever.” 

She cackled, shaking her head. Kuroo took a quick sip of the tea to test the temperature. Deciding it was appropriate, he turned around to give it to her, hoping his cheeks had cooled down at that point.

“Well, you must like this one more than the rest,” his grandmother cooed, resting her chin on her hand as he placed the tea cup in front of her. “Seeing as you’re bringing her over and all.” 

“She’s just a good friend,” Kuroo mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. 

“Blushing and scratching your neck!” His grandmother’s eyes shone with delight. “My, my, Tetsu, you are nervous.” 

He opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came. Sure, he usually got the jump on everyone else, but there was no outsmarting his own grandmother. 

The doorbell chimed through the house. 

“You better go and greet your lady, little Casanova,” his grandmother raised a pertinent eyebrow at him, taking a sip of her tea. 

“I told you, it’s not like that,” Kuroo huffed, waving a hand at her. 

“Whatever you say, Tetsu.”

But he was already gone, half-running to the front door. 

By the time he opened the door, you were halfway down the front path, back turned to him as you looked around. 

“Leaving already?” He smiled, trying to look as composed as possible.

“Yeah,” you grinned, looking over your shoulder at him. “Already bored.” 

Kuroo scoffed, shaking his head. “To think I offer you the privilege of coming to my house–” 

“Oh, yes, the great honour of being allowed into the Kuroo household,” you played along, half-skipping back to the front door and slipping your shoes off. “I will finally step foot in it’s hallowed halls… a privilege I have not yet been granted.” 

Kuroo snorted, moving to ruffle your hair. “You sound like someone out of one of Kenma’s games.” 

“That’s the point,” you shrugged, slapping his hand away. “Oi. I tried to make it look presentable.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled, stepping aside to let you in. He did his absolute best to ignore just how pretty you looked today. 

He took a deep breath. Before you two would be allowed to just hang out, you’d have to meet his family. And though he loved them more than anything, they had the potential to cause quite the ruckus. 

But it went fine. His family managed to resist their innate urge to tease, and you held a conversation with each of them quite smoothly. His grandmother had taken a particular liking to you – as he’d expected – and he could tell that you were relieved by it. You hadn’t told him you were nervous about meeting his family, but he was well-acquainted with your tells. You’d relaxed within the hour, which was a feat worth celebrating. 

The only issue was that his family wouldn’t leave you alone. His father had left for work pretty soon after you’d arrived – but not before you’d noted the similarities between him and his son. Though you’d said his dad had better hair.  

His grandparents kept flitting between the living room and the kitchen, always finding some conversation to start before Kuroo could usher you out of there. He knew it should be annoying, but there’s something endearing about watching you talk to his grandmother so easily. And as always, his grandmother had really listened to him – he’d warned her a few days ago that you could get a bit nervous. He could see that she was doing everything she could to ensure you were comfortable. 

His grandmother didn’t say anything about their earlier conversation, much to his relief. Although, he’d appreciate it if she stopped waggling her eyebrows at him whenever your back was turned. 

But of course, your favourite member of his household was his dog. 

He was a friendly little thing, a little bigger than usual for his breed, but with a lot of love to give. You’d bonded immediately. 

“He’s beautiful,” you gasped, scratching behind the Akita’s ears. “What’s his name?”

“Kuroo Coco Sora Kuu Inu-chan.” 

You blinked up at him. “Why… why so many?”

“We couldn’t agree on one name when we first got him,” Kuroo shrugged. “So he has four names.”

“Who’s responsible for Inu-chan?” You smirked, turning your attention back to Kuroo Coco Sora Kuu Inu-chan. Maybe you’d just stick with Coco. 

“Well, uh…”

“Couldn’t think of anything more creative?” 

“Listen.” Kuroo held up his hands, crouching down next to you. “I was like… eleven?”

“That’s no excuse.” 

“I’d like to see you come up with something better,” he scoffed, placing a large hand on Coco’s head. 

“Oh, easy,” you said. 

“Yeah? Prove it.” 

“There are much more important things to think about, you know,” his grandmother called out, her head poking from round the corner with a bright grin.  

“My pride is on the line, Baa-chan,” Kuroo grinned. “If I’m going to be mocked, I’d like to see her do better.” 

“Well I need to steal her for a moment,” his grandmother beamed, turning to look at you. “Just ignore him, dearie. I have something to show you,” she smiled, eyes sparkling in the very same way Tetsurou’s did when he wanted to cause some mischief. So, it ran in the family. 

Next thing you knew, you were ushered to a couch with a mildly agitated Kuroo in tow.

“Take a look at these,” she said, handing you a pleather album as you sat yourself down. 

“Thank you,” you smiled, placing it in your lap. It felt almost sticky, the fabric and the corners well-worn with age. Kuroo plopped himself down next to you with a sigh, pouting a little. 

“Oh no,” Kuroo murmured as he noticed the object in your hands. 

“Oh yes,” his grandmother chuckled. 

Was this what you thought it was? You opened the book, to be greeted with – yep, that’s definitely Kuroo. As a very unfortunate-looking baby. 

“Do you have to?” He groaned, sinking his face into his hand. 

“Of course I do,” his grandmother said innocently. “That darling Kenma of yours found it quite amusing, didn’t he?” 

You smiled at that thought. Kenma wouldn’t have been awfully expressive, but you had the feeling that Kuroo’s grandmother was just as perceptive as the boy sitting next to you. Obnoxious cleverness seemed to be a Kuroo family trait. 

You turned the page, another set of baby photos ready to delight you. 

“Why do you look so angry?” You laughed, pointing at one of him in a bright yellow onesie, barely four months old. 

“Because they put me in that,” he said. 

“What about this one?” You asked, pointing at a very forlorn-looking toddler in a crib. 

“That’s probably the first moment I comprehended my mortality.” 

You snorted, turning the page once more. 

As you moved through his younger years, his grandmother began to regale you with the story behind each photo. You weren’t surprised to hear that there’s a chaotic element to most of them. And as she spoke, you could tell just how much she loved him. Just how proud she was of the young man he’d grown up to be. 

It made the whole experience all the more fun. There’s such a wealth of love amongst these pages, a sense of genuine and total adoration for the boy in the photos. His grandmother had acted like she had gotten this out to embarrass him – but, it seemed more like she’d wanted to brag about her little golden boy. 

There’s so many photos. Enough that you started to lose track. 

But, you froze immediately on a certain page. Two young boys, splattered with mud. One of them’s a little taller, grinning at the camera with a volleyball in hand. The other boy was hidden behind him, eyes a little round and spooked, but the smallest of smiles on his lips.

“Is that Kenma?” You gasped, leaning forward to get a better look. 

“The one and only,” Kuroo smiled. 

“He looks tiny!”

“He was.” 

“And that’s you?” You asked, pointing at a little boy with wild hair and a brilliant grin on his face. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, his gaze settling on your face. 

“Your hair hasn’t changed,” you laughed, turning to smile at him. “Have you ever actually used a hairbrush? Or have you just made an active choice never to touch one?” 

“Look.” Kuroo shifted to face you a little more directly, jabbing one finger at his hair. “You try dealing with this every morning.” 

You laughed, returning to the album. You pressed a hand to your chest absent-mindedly. God, this feeling was a little overwhelming; if you were forced to put it into words, you’d settle on ‘absolute fondness’. All you knew was that looking at this photo made you feel so soft. So full of love. 

“You alright?” He asked, a hand instinctively moving to your back. 

“I’m fine,” you smiled. “Just a little emotional.” 

For whatever reason, he couldn’t stop looking at your face. He’d seen you smile plenty of times, and the expression always looked good on you. But there's something about this smile, in this moment, that’s so mesmerising. 

You didn’t notice, so engrossed in your own fondness as you look down at two of your closest friends, young, covered in mud and happy. It’s not your memory to look back on, but you’re glad you’ve been permitted a peek into it.

And Kuroo didn’t notice his grandmother watching him from the other side of the couch, observing him with a positively amused twinkle in her eye. 

She could already tell just how well you two got along. How happy you could make each other. And nothing could delight her more. And even if she hadn’t been watching you interact all day, this look he was giving you right now was evidence enough of the rich affection he held for you. 

She just hoped she wouldn’t have to knock some sense into the poor boy, dense as he can be. 

✉

[YOU] 9:33 PM: tetsu 

[YOU] 9:33 PM: tetsu tetsu tetsu

[emotionally constipated] 9:33 PM: mm? 

[YOU] 9:33 PM: i need photos of coco Right Now

[emotionally constipated] 9:33 PM: that’s inu-chan to you 

[YOU] 9:33 PM: tetsu i’m Desperate 

[YOU] 9:33 PM: i need to see him 

[YOU] 9:34 PM: if i don’t see him i’ll Die 

[YOU] 9:34 PM: also please tell your grandmother that i adore her

[emotionally constipated] 9:34 PM: hahah i’m glad you had such a good time 

[YOU] 9:35 PM: i really did :( 

[YOU] 9:35 PM: can i move into your attic?

[emotionally constipated] 9:35 PM: no

✧ ✧ ✧

"They're going to be a handful," you smiled, zipping up your bag.

"Yeah," he chuckled, looking down at your hunched form. "But you're already attached to them, right?"

"They're sweet," you said, standing up. "And, I think they've got a lot of potential."

"For giving Yaku an aneurism, maybe."

"But Tetsurou," you grinned, "that's the best part!"

"Got it in for Yaku, have you?" He raised an eyebrow at you, but he did a pretty poor job of wiping the smile off his own face.

"Don't push your agenda onto me," you chuckled. "I'm not the one who had stupid little spats with him, you know."

"What can I say? I was young and foolish, once upon a time."

"You say that like you're a geriatric."

"I've grown a lot this past year," he sighed, holding up his hands.

You shot him a look; one that's supposed to tell him how very silly he was. But he'd been getting better at reading in-between the lines, and he knew that there's fondness there. A deep, untempered well of fondness that neither of you knew how to put into words.

"Bold words, from someone who still laughs at the word 'cock'." That wasn’t quite what he’d expected you to say, but they were certainly words he had to defend himself against.

"Look, I'm just saying that it’s exactly the sort of word they'd use in porn–"

"Oh, so you do watch it then?"

It’s not that he thought there’s anything all that wrong with watching porn. He’s a teenager – he was going to get curious. And that was fine. But the thought of you knowing about it made him nervous. What if you thought less of him for it, for whatever reason? What if the knowledge made you uncomfortable?

"I–" He stuttered, painfully aware of how clammy his hands were."I didn't necessarily say that–"

"Then how do you know?" A smile he didn’t quite like spread across your face.

"I just– Yamamoto–"

"I can't believe you'd throw him under the bus like this!" You gasped.

"I'm not, I'm just relaying a fact–" He could feel his ears burning.

"And here I was, thinking you'd be the sort of captain who'd look out for his teammates. You know what, Tetsurou? I'm surprised and disappointed." You were having far too much fun with this. And he was playing right into your hands.

"I can't believe you're persecuting me for no good reason." He tried to find his footing again, to try and turn it on you. He knew it’s not going to work, but it’s worth a try.

"I have a perfectly adequate reason, thank you very much."

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"You're a teenage boy. You know… a scourge on this planet." You lowered your voice, as if you were letting him in on a dark secret.

"Excuse me?"

"I meant what I said."

"Then why be our manager, hm? Why subject yourself to the company of teenage boys every day?"

You laughed. He knew he loved the sound a little more than he should. "Well, you got me there."

He smiled at you. God, he hoped his face wasn’t giving too much away.

You’re just chatting in a gym. Just acting like teenagers. But it's the type of moment he's grateful for. The sort that made him feel bad for that multitude of other universes where he didn’t have the privilege of knowing you. He felt a little cocky about it, too, even if that's a bit childish.

"Hurry up," he sighed, nudging you with his elbow. "I wanna go home."

"Yeah, yeah," you sighed. "Thank you, by the way."

"Hm?"

"For still walking me home," you smiled up at him. "I don't think I've said thanks yet."

"Pft." Kuroo shook his head. "You don't deserve it, I can tell you that."

You faked a gasp, one hand on your chest. "And here I thought we were friends."

"And here I thought that you held me in higher esteem," he chuckled.

"Huh?" You tilted your head at him as you walked towards the doors of the gym.

"You think I'm just a… you know," he grinned, leaning down closer to you. He didn’t catch the blush on your cheeks as you stepped out into the dusk. "A teenage boy."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Wow, you really took that to heart, huh?"

"Here I am, subjecting myself to the mortifying ordeal of being known, and you have the gall to speak to me like this," he sighed, looking up to the sky.

"Oh, you're not so bad," you giggled, looping your arm through his. He thought his heart might give out, small as the gesture may be. "If it makes you feel any better… you're my favourite teenage boy."

Oh, now that's just too much.

"Oi," he barked, nudging you a little roughly. You just laughed. "You can't just say shit like that."

"Why not?"

"Because–" The words caught in his throat, and he didn’t quite know what to say. There were so many ways this could go; some of them were frankly terrifying. "You've just gotta warn a guy before being that sappy, alright?"

So, he evaded.

"I'll be more careful next time," you bit your lip. But you smiled.

✉

[the worst member of the kuroo household] 12:24 AM: fyi, if i did in fact watch porn, i'd want you to know that i'd ensure it was ethically sourced

[YOU] 12:24 AM: tetsurou it is 12:30 in the morning

[YOU] 12:24 AM: what does this even mean

[YOU] 12:24 AM: why do i need to know this

[YOU] 12:24 AM: what are you even doing up

[YOU] 12:24 AM: don't tell me–

[YOU] 12:25 AM: omg do 10 cents of your proceeds go to farmers

[YOU] 12:25 AM: OMG sustainable porn

[YOU] 12:25 AM: i'm so proud of you for doing your part for the environment :')

[the worst member of the kuroo household] 12:25 AM: WHY ARE YOU ASSUMING THE WORST

[the worst member of the kuroo household] 12:25 AM: I'M NOT DLKDDKLJ I JUST WANTED YOU TO KNOW THAT I'M NOT SUPPORTING A SHITTY INDUSTRY OKAY

[the worst member of the kuroo household] 12:26 AM: i know parts of it are bad and exploitative and if i did so happen to consume that kind of content, i'd avoid that. that's all i'm trying to say

[YOU] 12:26 AM: omg, look at you supporting indie artists

[the worst member of the kuroo household] 12:26 AM: i'm losing my mind–

[YOU] 12:26 AM: it's okay, for your sake i'll pretend i can't read

[the worst member of the kuroo household] 12:26 AM: please don't send this to yaku

[YOU] 12:27 AM: :)

[the worst member of the kuroo household] 12:29 AM: wait, what are you even doing up?

[YOU] 12:29 AM: ;) none of your business, that's what

[the worst member of the kuroo household] 12:30 AM: DON'T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT

[YOU] 12:30 AM: ;)

✧ ✧ ✧

Kuroo didn’t mean to stare. It’s just that during practice, his gaze always found its way back to you. 

He just liked making sure you’re doing okay. During second year, he’d check for signs of anxiety or discomfort; you had understandably feared a hit from a stray ball, and you had seemed to find the third years too intimidating to really connect with. But now? 

Now, he had the pleasure of watching you flourish. You managed to get along with each member of the team so well, from Inuoka to Kenma. You always seemed to know the right thing to say, the right way to encourage them (or in a certain setter’s case, when to give them some space). To varying degrees, they’d come to rely on you – both as a manager, and as a friend. You hadn’t shied away from the challenge. You’d taken the time to get to know each and every one of them; ‘my kids,’ as you’d called them in conversation with your other third years. Yaku had kicked up a fuss to that little moniker, but he was outnumbered.  

Most importantly, you were smiling a lot more. Kuroo knew that those feelings you were grappling with didn’t go away overnight. They didn’t pack themselves up and disappear because you’d found one good thing in life. But there’s relief in knowing you’ve got people to rely on, people who helped make you smile. He knew, for certain, that you had a support system that adored you. And he couldn’t feel more humbled to be a part of it. 

So, maybe he wasn’t just checking to see if you’re okay. Not anymore, at least. 

No, he just liked seeing you be happy. 

At that moment, you were sat on the ground, bandages in your lap with a water bottle and bunch of bananas to one side and Lev to the other. You were tending to an minor injury he’d gotten as the result of a rather stupid little accident. Kuroo was close enough that he could hear you; as per usual with Lev, you were gently reprimanding him. With good reason. 

“You’ve gotta be more careful,” you hummed, wrapping a bandage gently around Lev’s finger. You weren’t quite sure what had happened – as far as you could tell, he’d somehow tried to hit the ball incorrectly? – but Lev had to sit out for a while. 

And he hated it. He wasn’t very good at masking his emotions. Nor did he feel much of a need to even try. 

“I am,” he whined, pouting at you. You hadn’t known him for all that long, in the grand scheme of things. But Lev was a pretty easy guy to pin down. 

Your eyes flashed as you looked up at him, and he wilted. 

“You just wanted to look cool, didn’t you?” 

“Well what’s the point if I don’t look cool?” He grumbled, shoulders slouching.

You laughed, patting him on the arm. “You do realise volleyball isn’t all about looking cool, right? I’ve heard Kuroo try and explain that to you far too many times.” 

Out of all the first years, Lev had been the most… difficult. Inuoka was good-natured if excitable, Shibayama was gentle and well-meaning, and Teshiro was generally well-behaved. 

But Lev? Lev was a force of nature. You’d call him a whirlwind, but that didn’t seem wild enough. He was something like an earthquake and a fire storm happening all that once. And he didn’t seem to have any awareness of that. 

“Now, try to be more careful,” you smiled, tilting your head at him. “I want to see you out on the court! I love seeing that spike of yours!”

Lev beamed at that, his shoulders perking right up. If there was one thing Lev responded well to, it was praise. You just had to work out how to use that to your advantage. By some stroke of luck, he happened to be quite fond of you. That, at least, made your job easier. 

“But, you’ve got to listen to Kuroo more,” you sighed, standing up and crossing your arms. “And Yaku, for that matter. If you want to become Nekoma’s ace, you’ve got to get pretty damn good at defense, too.” 

Lev opened his mouth to reply, but you shook your head. “Trust me. You’ll shoot your way to the top in no time.” 

He made a little sound in the back of his throat, wiggling his now bandaged finger. 

“And eat this,” you sighed, handing him a banana. “Keep your sugars up.” 

Lev wasn’t looking at you or the banana. Instead, he was staring at something beyond you, his eyes glinting with a certain intensity you’d come to dread. 

“What are you staring at?” You frowned, looking over your shoulder. 

“If I got enough of a running start, do you think I could jump over the net?”

“Lev, no!” 

Across the gym, Kuroo bit his lip, holding back a cackle. 

You’d really stepped into your role as manager, hadn’t you? You’d lost much of that initial nervousness, and you’d bonded with the first years quite well. You talked freely with the team, and you weren’t afraid to speak up if you had an idea or an observation. You laughed a lot more, too; whether that be at some of the antics the first years got up to or at Fukunaga’s puns or at Yamamoto being Yamamoto. No matter the source, he was always glad to hear the sound of your laugh ring out in the gym. 

You seemed happy; joyful, even. Knowing that you had people you connected with, people you felt comfortable with was a relief. The team was closer now than it had ever been – and you’d even admitted to him, very quietly, that you felt a bit less lonely. That alone made Kuroo feel like he’d made the right choice in wrangling you this mad little group.   

“You’re so obvious,” Yaku scoffed, rolling his eyes at Kuroo. 

Kuroo flinched, taken completely unawares. He looked to his side quickly, noting that both Yaku and Kai were giving him a certain knowing look that he didn’t like. Whatever they were thinking, it wasn’t good. 

“Hah?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow at his friend, pushing away the scant bit of panic that gripped his chest. 

“Staring at her during every practice isn’t exactly subtle,” Yaku snorted, wiping his forehead. “She’s going to catch on eventually.” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kuroo mumbled, lifting his water bottle to his lips. 

Kai chuckled, bringing one fist up to cover his mouth.

“Oi,” Kuroo huffed, “Stop it.” 

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” Yaku grinned. “For now.” 

“Shut up,” Kuroo bunted Yaku’s back with one knee, violently hoping that his cheeks weren’t all red. 

“You’re really punching above your weight, you know,” Yaku sighed, propping his hands on his hips. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Oh, it’s on. 

Across the gym, you walked up to Kenma, a frown on your face. 

“I thought those two were supposed to have sorted things out?” You frowned, looking at Yaku and Kuroo mouthing off at each other. You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but they looked fervent. 

Kenma shrugged. “I dunno. They’re both pretty easy to rile up, so…” 

You smiled to yourself. Sure, everyone on the team was a little stupid in their own way. But that’s what made them all so endearing. So endearing, in fact, that you wanted to look after them as best you could. 

And you honestly tried not to play favourites. But it’s hard for you to not pay particular attention to a certain middle blocker. 

✉

[YOU] 9:46 PM: yaku asked me to tell you to stop bullying him 

[ethically sourced :)] 9:46 PM: I WASN’T BULLYING HIM 

[YOU] 9:46 PM: but you were shouting at him  

[ethically sourced :)] 9:47 PM: he deserved it

[YOU] 9:47 PM: i’ll be the judge of that

[YOU] 9:47 PM: what were you even arguing about?

[ethically sourced :)] 10:12 PM: doesn’t matter 

[ethically sourced :)] 10:12  PM: anyway do you think it’s possible to pavlov lev? 

[YOU] 10:12 PM: that’s one way to derail the conversation

[YOU] 10:16 PM: with what? 

[ethically sourced :)] 10:16 PM: praise

[ethically sourced :)] 10:16 PM: specifically from you

[YOU] 10:16 PM: LKJDDKJL why?

[ethically sourced :)] 10:16 PM: because there’s nothing more motivating than that 

[ethically sourced :)] 10:18 PM: for the first years

[ethically sourced :)] 10:18 PM: i meant for the first years 

[ethically source :)] 10:20 PM: not me :)

[YOU] 10:21 PM: you know tetsu, lying is bad for the soul

✧ ✧ ✧

"Yeah, but who are we gonna date?" You huffed, brow furrowed as you glared at the screen. The synths of Persona 5’s idle music provided a deceptively soothing ambience as you made the protagonist run around in circles. 

The two of you sat on your bedroom floor with a smorgasbord of snacks, your backs relaxed against your bed frame. This issue of ‘who should we date?’ had been a consistent topic of conversation for the past two weeks. Kuroo was sure that it’d never get resolved. 

"My vote's for Makato," he shrugged, reaching into the bag of chips and taking a handful.

"You're so typical," you scoffed, shaking your head.

"Look," he laughed, "We can date Ann if you really want to."

"I'm just confused as to why you don't want to." You pouted at him as you sat with your backs against your bed, shoulders pressed together. 

The issue of Takamaki Ann had been a surprising one to you; your argument was that she’d been the protagonist’s second friend, and had a wonderful bond with him. Kuroo had been less convinced. 

"It's not that I don't want to," Kuroo grinned. "It just feels like… I'm giving in."

"Giving in?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "You know."

"To… the boobs?"

He cackled at that. "That's one way of putting it."

"But she's an angel," you pouted. "It's not her fault she got put in the latex catsuit."

Kuroo grinned. "See, it's fine for you if you wanna date her. If I choose Ann, then I'm the target audience, you know? I've given into the whole pervert thing."

"I think you're forgetting that you can date your teacher in this game."

"I'd genuinely blocked that out."

You smiled at him, and his heart squeezed a little. He couldn't say why, though.

"Alright, compromise. Who did Kenma date?"

"Uh… last time he played, he did the whole harem thing."

"The whole harem?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Including the teacher?"

"Of course."

You stared at him for a moment, expression something akin to shock.

"It was for an achievement," Kuroo shrugged.

“There’s... a harem achievement?” You frowned. 

“Nah,” he shook his head. “But you get an achievement for dating all the romance options, and he didn’t really want to play the game ten times over.”

"Oh," you nodded. "Right."

A pause.

"He doesn't have a favourite?"

"I guess if he was forced to pick, he'd go with Futaba."

"Makes sense," you nodded, a little pout on your face. Kuroo couldn’t help but smile at the look on your face. 

Kuroo chuckled, shaking his head. “And does it not make sense for me to choose Makato?”

“I didn’t say that,” you rolled your eyes, pressing your arm against his.

He grinned, reaching over and plucking the controller from your hands. 

“Hey!”

“It’s my turn to play,” he smiled. “And I’m going to go and hang out with Makato.” 

You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. You’d been doing that more and more recently. He still wasn’t quite used to it. “I’m not saying you can’t like her. I mean, she's great, but… Ann's right there." 

He didn’t say that it’s because Makato kind of reminded him of you. She’s smart, if a little stupid sometimes. You’re not the same person by any stretch of the imagination, but he couldn’t get the association out of his head when he had first noticed it. It had endeared her towards him – maybe more than it should have. 

There was certainly some irony in the fact that she was the girl you were least interested in dating. 

You gasped suddenly, sitting up straight.

"What?" Kuroo frowned, disguising genuine concern with annoyance.

"There's still another team member we haven't met yet, right?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"What if we want to date her?"

Kuroo laughed, resting his head against the bed. It’s nice to see you get invested in this so much. There’s something of a mix between pride and delight in his chest, knowing he’d brought you something that made you smile. There’s a part of him that wanted to make sure you’ve always got something to smile about. 

He’s relieved, really, that you had agreed to play this with him. It was quite the commitment – Kenma’s playthrough had ended up being what, one-hundred and thirty hours? – but Kuroo had asked you if you’d be up for it anyway. 

You’d agreed, and he’d felt unreasonably delighted by that. It was a bit stupid, but he liked that the game gave him a reason to spend time with you. Well, even more time with you. When Kenma had told him just how long a single playthrough took, Kuroo had immediately presented the game to you. 

It’s not like the two of you were spending less time together. It’s not even like he needed to have a consistent reason to spend time with you either. It had become something of a routine to spend every second evening at either of your houses; the general idea was still to study, but it was easier and easier to get distracted these days. Not that he was letting you get lazy or anything like that. There was just too much to talk about. 

Hell, you even knew each other’s families quite well at this point. Your family loved him, much to his relief. And, his family still adored you. His grandparents were still sending him knowing looks over dinner, even when you weren’t there. If he so much as mentioned your name in conversation, they’d start chuckling. 

It’s just that you’re a part of his life now. Someone who brought him comfort. Someone who could help him relax. And he wanted to hold onto that as best as he could. 

✉

[YOU] 12:01 PM: tetsu

[YOU] 12:01 PM: testu tetsu 

[YOU] 12:01 PM: i desperately need your help :( 

[tetsuwu] 12:01 PM: are you okay? 

[tetsuwu] 12:01 PM: what can i do? 

[YOU] 12:06 PM: i can’t stop changing my mind about which girl to date 

[tetsuwu] 12:06 PM: oh my

[tetsuwu] 12:06 PM: GOD you had me genuinely worried 

[YOU] 12:07 PM: :) 

[tetsuwu] 12:07 PM: we can date ann if you really want 

[YOU] 12:07 PM: it’s just that i think she’s the best match for the protagonist, you know?

[tetsuwu] 12:07 PM: yeah

[tetsuwu] 12:07 PM: the silent protagonist who barely has a personality except for what you project onto him

[YOU] 12:08 PM: D: so utilitarian

[tetsuwu] 12:08 PM: what? i’m right  

[YOU] 12:09 PM: but tetsu my Immersion

[tetsuwu] 12:09 PM: you’ll live

[tetsuwu] 12:09 PM: also for the love of god can we please change my name from tetsuwu

[YOU] 12:09 PM: >:) 

✧ ✧ ✧

"I'm excited!" You beamed up at him, notebook clutched to your chest and jacket tied around your waist.

"You sure you can handle it?" He grinned, ruffling your hair habitually. "There's gonna be a lot of teenage boys running about. I'm not sure you're ready for such unbridled chaos."

“Surely they can’t be much worse than our kids,” you smiled. “I mean, there’s Karasuno. But I’m as used to them as I can be. I think.” 

“Bold of you to assume that you’d ever be used to Karasuno,” he chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, that’s fair,” you laughed. “I used to think that our kids were super chaotic, but then…” 

Kuroo smiled to himself. Seeing you get so excited for this training camp did his heart some good. 

He couldn’t have imagined you being like this when he had first met you in second year; you’d really begun to open up, to express yourself. You were actually looking forward to working with the other managers. You’d even spoken about making friends with them. Honestly, it’s sweet. 

“Don’t forget to do your work, though,” he yawned as the two of you came to a stop in front of your house. Practice had run a little later than usual, which had messed up his plans a bit. He’d wanted to get home to work on his literature essay – the current bane of his existence – and to get your help. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m on top of things. That timetable you made me really helps.”

He felt a little swell of pride at that. The study timetable had been primarily a test run, a set of suggestions he’d put forward in an attempt to help you quell your anxieties. But, it had worked wonderfully. He’d done his best to account for your study habits, practice, and the fact that the two of you literally couldn’t get through twenty minutes without having a conversation that went completely off topic.  

Suffice to say that even he was impressed with how effective the timetable had actually been. 

“Anyway,” you yawned, waving at him as you turned to open your front door. “Goodnight.” 

“Oh, before you go,” he cleared his throat, making you turn back around. 

“Everything okay?” You asked. 

“Can I be a bother and ask you to read over my literature essay?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck. “I know it’s late, but…” 

“Sure,” you nodded. “On one condition.” 

He paused. He’d said those words to you once, hadn’t he? 

“You want me to buy you yakisoba, don’t you?” He grinned, pushing that little memory aside. 

You pouted. “How’d you know?”

“You’ve been craving it all week.” 

“Oh.” Your pout deepened. You always pulled this expression when he managed to be one step ahead.

“I’ll do it,” he shrugged. “But only because I’m desperate.”

You let out a little ‘whoop’, turning back to your door with a little jump. God, you could be so cute sometimes. 

And then you were gone, flying through your front door with a simple, “see you later, Tetsu!” 

He watched you go with a frown etched on his brow.

It's an inconspicuous little revelation, almost annoying in its mundanity.

How hadn't he noticed you before? Why had it taken you begging him for help for him to look your way?

You were captivating.

It's in the way your eyes lit up whenever you spoke about your passions – even if it was just which girl you should date in a video game. It's in the variations of your laugh, each timbre seemingly tailored to each brand of stupid thing he might say. It's in how your hands tended to each and every member of the team with such sincere adoration. Even with him.

It's how you’re in all of him. In every thought, every decision, every absent-minded daydream. In each and every time he stopped and wondered, "what would she think?" In how every time he learned something new, saw something funny, he wanted to tell you about it. In how he'd structure his week around when he got to spend time with you.

But he's just a high school student. Just a boy.

And that's not how love had been explained to him. Not as something so quiet. Not as something so natural, so comfortable, with someone who brought him such comfort. Love was supposed to be difficult, challenging. It was supposed to choke you. Love was supposed to slap you in the face, demanding and all-consuming.

So, he figured it must not be love. He hoped it's not love. It must have been something else entirely.

What that was, he didn’t know.

✉

[father of nine] 10:36 PM: here’s my essay

[father of nine] 10:36 PM: please tell me it makes some sense

[YOU] 10:36 PM: shh stop being so hard on yourself 

[YOU] 10:37 PM: it can’t be worse than inuoka’s history essay, bless his soul 

[father of nine] 10:37 PM: you’re an angel, thanks 

[father of nine] 10:37 PM: * angle

[YOU] 10:37 PM: you say that like i’m not doing this for a price

[father of nine] 10:37 PM: you say that like you wouldn’t crack eventually 

[YOU] 10:38 PM: oh, so you’ve got the gall to push your luck, do you? 

[father of nine] 10:38 PM: :)

[kat-tamin]

Kat x Jet story

After a few dates Jet gets scared about how much she likes Kat so she starts avoiding her. Jet decides to face her fears and shows up to Kat’s gym late at night and Jet apologizes. Jet follows her into the locker room shower and she proves to Kat how much she likes her (finger sex).

When faced with stress, the human body is faced with a decision: fight or flight. Since she was a kid, Jet would pick the latter. Someone at school making fun of her? Jet would slip away and hide in a bathroom stall. The wrong order at a restaurant? Jet would simply eat it, no complaints, even if it was disgusting.

Someone was so nice, it made Jet’s heart explode? She would avoid them.

She had three unanswered phone calls from Kat. Seven text messages, and four Instagram DMs, all from the last week. They weren’t pushy or angry, but concerned.

Are you ok? I owe you a game of Catan.

There’s this cool art exhibit downtown. Want to go?

Text me when you can, Jet. No worries.

Somehow the kind tone was worse than a disappointed one. Jet was being a child, but she couldn’t help it. Her brain just felt like a giant blue screen of death whenever she thought about meeting with Kat.

Three days before Jet started avoiding Kat, they had sex. To quote Lady Gaga: it was show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique. Kat was the perfect mix of intimate and sexy. In the middle of her fourth consecutive orgasm, a thought popped into Jet’s head: I never want her to leave.

It was like a balloon deflating. Jet immediately switched positions, pleasuring Kat, trying to push all thoughts out of her head.

But the thought was like a lantern in the dark. You can’t help but look, mesmerized by its light.

So that’s why Jet was avoiding Kat, not because she hated her, but because she liked her. It was too much, too fast. Jet didn’t know how to handle it.

Jet sat in front of her monitors at home, staring at Kat’s last text, from 35 minutes ago: Going to the gym. Remember when I said I’d teach you? Offer still stands lol

Despite not being able to reach Jet, Kat was still trying. Jet couldn’t comprehend that. Why would she keep offering to spend time with her? Any other person on the planet probably wouldn’t put up with this. Kat must like her a lot.

Before she knew what she was doing, Jet was on her bike, making her way to the boxing gym Kat attended.

It was so late at night, there was no one there. Jet peeked into the main ring, but it was empty. All the practice rooms were empty too, as well as both locker rooms.

Jet was about to admit defeat and go home, when she heard a clang of a locker shutting. She followed the noise to a small, private locker room. It was more like a dressing room in a theater.

In the middle of the room, on a small bench, sat Kat, clad only in a towel.

Jet gasped, ducking back into the hallway. “Sorry!”

“Jet?” Kat scrambled to her feet, still breathing hard from her workout. “What are you doing here?”

Jet pressed her back to the wall, looking away to give Kat some privacy. “I got your text. You said you were here.”

Kat appeared in front of Jet, still undressed. Her mouth was open in shock. “You actually came.” Her voice betrayed her disbelief.

Jet’s gaze went to her boots. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.”

“It’s alright.” Kat walked back to her bag, taking out another towel. She rubbed her scalp, leaving her hair sticking up.

“No, it’s not.” Jet followed her, moving closer. Her gaze still remained stubbornly on the floor. “It was immature of me. I should have just been honest.”

“Honest,” Kat repeated. Her tone went from happy to nervous in a flicker. “About?”

Jet took a long, slow breath. She forced herself to meet Kat’s eyes. “About how much I like you. I’m not used to that and I got scared.”

Kat’s already pink face flushed even darker. She broke into a grin. “Well, I’m happy you told me.” She took a step closer to Jet, reaching for her hand. “Because I like you a lot, too.”

Jet looked at Kat from under her lashes. “Forgive me?”

“You’re forgiven.” Kat leaned forward, but paused, her nose wrinkling. “I really want to kiss you right now, but I stink.”

Jet moved forward anyway, bridging the gap between them. She inhaled Kat’s scent, which, while strong, was still alluring. “I don’t care.”

She grabbed Kat’s jaw gently, tilting it down so she could kiss her. Kat’s hands moved to Jet’s waist, pressing their bodies together.

The kiss quickly became heated, Kat tearing off Jet’s leather jacket. Her mouth moved to Jet’s ear, whispering: “You know, the door locks.”

Heat flooded to Jet’s core at Kat’s suggestion. Her hands moved to the edge of Kat’s towel, her fingers brushing the skin of her thigh. “Well, I could use a shower too.”

They shared mischievous smiles. Kat quickly flipped the lock of the door. She helped Jet strip out of her clothes, then dropped her towel to the floor.

Just like the first time Jet saw her naked, her mouth went dry as she took in Kat’s perfect body. The faint glow of sweat only made her more beautiful.

It didn’t take long for them to get in the shower, barely letting it warm up before stepping under the water. It was one of those high tech rain head showerheads that came from the ceiling, hitting them both perfectly.

Jet’s tongue swiped into Kat’s mouth, making the other girl moan. Jet shivered in excitement, the thrill of making Kat happy. One of Jet’s hand was on Kat’s hip, the other cupping her breast. Her thumb ran over her nipple, pebbling under her touch.

Jet felt one of Kat’s hands moving up her thigh. Her hand shot out, catching her wrist. Kat looked at Jet, confused. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Jet rubbed the skin of her wrist. “But I want to make it up to you first.”

Kat shook her head, sending water splashing. “I told you, you were forgiven.”

“I know.” Jet ducked her head, dragging her teeth along Kat’s shoulder. “Please?”

“Like I’d pass on an orgasm,” Kat said, with an eye roll. She spread her legs, letting Jet’s hand move between them.

Thank God for Kat’s legs, strong from all her gym time. It allowed Jet to concentrate on Kat’s pleasure, not whether she was about to slip on the slippery tiles.

Jet rolled Kat’s clit between her thumb and forefinger. Kat gripped Jet’s shoulders tighter, allowing the pleasure to build in her body. Jet circled her clit, her other fingers rubbing the inside of her lower lips.

“Fuck, Jet,” Kat gasped, water pouring into her mouth.

The water mixed with Kat’s wetness, allowing Jet’s fingers to slide into her entrance. She began to thrust in and out of her, the tight angle making her arm ache. The pain was worth it for the sounds that spilled out of Kat’s mouth.

Her fingertips dragged along Kat’s front wall, touching it gently. Jet sank to her knees, pressing her face to Kat’s stomach.

Between the water and Kat, Jet couldn’t see anything, her tongue making contact with her pubic bone before finding it’s prize. Her tongue circled Kat’s clit, the girl above her letting out a loud moan.

Kat’s hands were in Jet’s soaked hair, weaving her fingers in the dark strands. She pushed the younger girl closer to her cunt, chasing the orgasm. It was so close, and when Jet’s mouth sucked down on her clit, it finally came.

Kat’s vision went white then black, almost losing her footing in the slick shower.

Jet got to her feet, her tongue licking up the water on Kat’s torso until she made it back to her lips. She kissed her again, more gentler.

“Double forgiven?” Jet murmured against Kat’s lips. Her wrist and knees were aching but it was worth it.

Kat smiled, moving Jet’s wet hair out of her face. “Double forgiven.”

[jeanjauthor]

The ‘dreaded swimsuit season’ is coming up, and that means people are going to be obsessing about food and exercise and losing calories.  First of all, I’m not a medical professional nor a nutritionist nor a physical therapist etc, so definitely consult with the appropriate personnel...but I cannot stress strongly enough, you must consult with non-fatphobic medical personnel.

Fatphobia kills people of all bodyweights, and this blog does not support fatphobia, especially medical fatphobia.

Now, with that said...if you want to be healthy, there are plenty of non-fatphobic things you can do about it.  And the biggest things you need to know about how to go about it are: understanding your metabolism, understanding how muscles can affect your metabolism, and understanding how diet (foods, not fatphobia industry) can affect your metabolism.

Given all the fat-shaming bullshit thrown about in the so-called “Health Industry,” it sounds counterintuitive, but you actually need to eat more in order to lose weight.  You need to teach your body that it’s not in starvation mode anymore, that it has plenty of calories and nutrients...and just start moving more.  Not necessarily exercising more, but moving more.

2,000-2,500 calories a day is the range for a “normal” body-weight-and-size person.  However, the more exercise you do, the more muscles you have, or simply the bigger a person you are (the more cells you have), the more calories you need.  Unless you’re seriously short & skinny, a 1,500 calorie meal is a starvation meal, and that will put your body into “OMFG SAVE ALL THE CALORIES AS FAT!!” mode.

Literally, a toddler’s caloric needs are 1,100, and they range from 20-35 pounds.  You’re several times that much.  This doesn’t mean that if you weigh 175 pounds that  you need to eat at least 5 times as many calories, however!  In truth, you only need about double that, because a toddler’s metabolism is geared toward growing, whereas an adult’s metabolism is geared toward maintaining.

The best way to understand this is to realize your metabolism can be divided into 4 categories.

Your Resting Metabolic Rate is simply the amount of calories needed to keep you breathing, your blood pumping, your organs functioning.  That’s 60%-75% of your caloric intake. You have your Thermic Effect of Food, which is another 10%, literally the energy it takes to chew and swallow and digest food & drinks, and then to excrete the leftover bathroom waste. The remaining two types of calorie burning are Non-Exercise Activity Thermogensis, and Activity Thermogenesis.  Of those lattermost two, your body actually burns more of the Non-Exercise calories than the Active Exercise calories...and it is designed to burn more when simply moving.

Literally, just moving a bit more than you usually do in a typical day will burn calories effectively.  Move around the house on every commercial break, stand up and sit down more often, change your position more frequently, raise and lower your arms, gently swing or kick your legs...just move more.  When they say 30 minutes of (gentle) exercise a day, this is exactly what they are talking about.  You don’t need weights, you don’t need machinery, you don’t need a gym membership.  Just move.  It’ll be a gradual process, but so long as you’re eating foods with plenty of fiber as well as other food types, you’ll feel full and won’t feel starved.

Now, if you want to burn calories even faster through vigorous exercise, you can do that, too...but again you need to use your metabolism.  Make sure you’re not starving, because your body will go into a panic attack thinking you’re not only starving but are being chased by bears and will need plenty of fat to survive while you’re unable to gather food, etc because zomg you’re being chased by bears!!1!  (Truly, the metabolism is a primitive/primal minded thing based upon hundreds of thousands of years of hunter-gatherer lifestyles, and does not comprehend modern life at all.)

And then, what do you do to burn more calories?  You build muscles.  Muscles burn a lot of calories.  Not just through using said muscles in excercise, but muscles will burn through calories even while simply resting.  The more muscles you have, the more calories your body will burn.

How do you build muscles?  Well, there are two types of muscles, which while it sounds cannibalistic, we’ll call white meat and dark meat, because it’s the easiest mnemonic to remember.  White meat (think breast meat on a chicken) is designed for strong but brief actions...and men have more white meat muscles than females, though obviously they have both kinds.  That brief sprint towards a prey animal, the thrust of a spear into its body, aaaand done.

Dark meat muscles are meant for lower-strength repetitive actions.  Walking around reaching up or stooping down or digging while gathering plants, with no need to rush and plenty of opportunities to rest.  Chasing after young children.  Weaving baskets, scraping and tanning hides into furs and leathers, cooking...these are tasks that require little to moderate amounts of strength, but most important, repeated movements.  Women tend to have more dark meat muscles than men, though obviously they have both kinds.

(The reasons why wild ducks, partridges, grouse, etc, all have dark meat breast muscles is because they use those muscles to fly long distances. Chickens evolved from jungle-floor hunt-and-peck birds that mostly flew only short distances to get away from predators by flying up to the nearest tree branches, so they literally just needed a burst of strong energy over a short period of time, hence white meat muscles.)

Which type is better?  Both, ideally, because they are useful in a variety of different ways.  Which is better for burning calories?  Ideally both, but it doesn’t really matter.  All you need to do is build muscles.

As for how to do that...you know how you feel when you exercise until you are sore?  That’s what you need to do.  This is where weights and machines and treadmills do come in handy, but still aren’t necessary, since you can lift and lower objects around your home, and get exercise bands or surgical tubing for resistance training, and go for longer walks, etc.

The object is to (gently!) push your body to the point where your muscles are sore.  You can do this by lifting weights for a few repetitions near your limit (use a spotter & practice safe lifting skills!!), which is a white meat muscle activity, or you can use lesser weights or resistance machinery (surgical tubing counts), but just do it more, which is dark meat muscle activity.

You can also do the “step down” method of weight training or resistance training, by starting near your limit, going until your muscles burn, then resting a few minutes while gently shaking out, massaging, or relaxing the muscles in question to help move the lactic acid out of your muscle tissues, along with hydrating. Then you “step down” the amount of weight (say by 20%-30%) and doing another set of reps (repetition movements) until again it’s a struggle, then another few minutes of rest, hydration, etc, before stepping down again, doing some reps...and then again when it’s at the lightest you can for as long as you can, then rest that muscle group.

Regardless of which way you weight/resistance train, take a full 48 hours off.  Or as close to 48 as you manage--weight train 3 times a week, and then take up to 72 hours (three days) off so your body can fully recover.  You can still exercise, but do not use weights or resistance machinery/rubber bands, etc.

Let your muscles use that 48 hours to heal, and eat more protein sources to help your body build more muscle strength, along with a variety of nutrients to get the right kinds of micronutrients.  Again, I must emphasize: Do not starve your body.  It will go into fat-storage mode and will only barely repair your muscles, nevermind build them bigger.

The goal is to build more muscle tissue.  if you are hungrier than usual, eat more.  Your body will tell you what it needs if you listen, and there are plenty of charts out there with “if you are craving X,Y, or Z, then try eating healthier foods A,B,C, D, E, or F!” and they’re actually not inaccurate...but it is okay to have the “less healthy” foods in moderation, same as in everything you eat.

But seriously, up your protein intake, which is what your body needs to build bigger muscles.  The average (again, your needs may be more) person needs about 4 ounces (115 grams) of protein per meal, so you can shoot for more than that.  And get your proteins from a variety of sources.  Humans can manufacture a good number of amino acids (the building blocks of proteins), but we cannot synthesize 9 of them, the “9 essential amino acids.”

These 9 essential amino acids are: histidine, isoleucine, leucine, lysine, methionine, phenylalanine, threonine, tryptophan, and valine.   Foods that contain all nine essential acids are called complete proteins. These include eggs, fish, beef, pork, poultry, and whole sources of soy (tofu, edamame, tempeh, and miso).

While plant proteins have lower essential amino acid contents when compared to animal proteins, they will also have different ratios of the various amio acids compared to most animal-based proteins.  This is something that vegetarians and vegans need to keep in mind.

Some plant-based foods can be combined together to complement and/or supplement.  “Rice & beans” is one such combination.  Basically, you combine a grain (in this case rice) with a pulse (legumes, like beans, or peas, etc).  Here in America, in Mexican restaurants, a serving of refried beans and Spanish rice (seasoned with tomatoes & spices) is often automatically included as a side for most dishes.  This provides a great deal of carbohydrates, but it also provides a more or less “complete protein” set of those essential amino acids.

Corn, beans, and squash plants do the same thing, providing a complete protein when combined together, as well as plenty of carbs.  These three plant types are the “Three Sisters” of indigenous North Americans.  They are best when planted together, the corn providing a trellis for the beans to grow upon, the squashes spreading out across the field to smother competing weeds, and together they feed people reasonably well.

However, they are still more carb-heavy than protein-heavy, which means vegetarians need to rely upon other sources such as nuts, plus eggs, dairy, and/or fish (if pisco-lacto-ovarian vegetarians).  Vegans in particular need to be extra careful.  Yes, peanuts have a lot of proteins compared to their carbs, same with almonds, etc, so definitely add nuts to your diets!  But just be aware that you’re going to need to be a lot more conscious of your protein types & sources--and make sure to get a variety of sources--if you’re trying to build muscles while on a vegetarian or especially on a vegan diet.  A purely plant-based diet will not have nearly as balanced a set of amino acids as what animal-inclusive diets can contain.

If you’re lacto-ovarian, this is made easier because milk, cheese, and eggs are wonderful foods with a lot of nutritional value.  If you eat fish as well, even better, full proteins in fish as well as in egg whites, etc...but that brings me to another caveat, because you should probably eat the egg yolks as well as the egg whites.

Do not skip out on fats.  Unless you have a genuine doctor-ordered medical reason, do not cut all fats out of your diet.  Your brain needs fats in order to function.  And just as with amino acids in various protein sources, there are different types of fats as well that our bodies need in different amounts for different reasons.  This isn’t to say you should chow down on the equivalent of a full stick of butter (1/2 cup, 65 grams) with each meal (unless you’re camping outdoors in winter in the far north or a mountain, because then you need fat in your diet for your body to literally burn to help keep you warm).

It’s just that you don’t want to go completely fat free...because if you do, your metabolism will go into panic mode in its primitive/primal-minded way, “ZOMG IT’S LATE WINTER/EARLY SPRING AND NOTHING HAS ANY FATS IN IT WE’RE ALL GONNA STAAAAAARRRVEEE!!” Your metabolism will start turning carbs and even proteins into fats in an effort to ensure your brain (along with other vital organs) will have enough fats to keep functioning.  So go ahead and put some butter on your toast.  Even better, put some nutbutter on your toast, since sunflower butter, peanut butter, almond butter, all those things have proteins and fats as well as carbs.

Also, your body actually does need cholesterol to function, but only in smaller amounts than you’d think.  HOWEVER, if it doesn’t get enough of the right types of cholesterol through diet, your body will make its own cholesterol, and will make more than you need, out of carbohydrates.  (Yeah, this one was a shocker to me when I learned about it, and the answer blew my mind.  Seriously, our body will make up to 10x as much cholesterol as we need if we don’t eat it, so it’s best if we do eat it.)

So how much does an average person need to consume of these critical cholesterols that it absolutely needs?  ...About 1-2 egg yolks a day (or comparable alternative sources; vegans, do some research on alternatives, or just accept that your body may try to overproduce certain cholesterols if it’s feeling nutrition-starved).  Seriously.  Just that much is enough. (Again, your needs may vary based on your body size, metabolic rate, and/or environment.)

So.  Put it all together, and you have:  1. Eat a variety of foods in sufficient quantities and qualities (fats and proteins included) to ensure your body stays healthy; 2. exercise just enough to push your muscles into feeling sore; 3. Rest 48 hours while eating a bit more protein to help your body repair and build bigger muscles; 4. Lather-rinse-repeat... and you’ll eventually get bigger muscles that burn more calories simply by existing, as well as whenever you use them to move just a bit more than you normally would.

Dark meat muscles burn more calories when at rest because they’re designed that way, because they’re small effort but frequent use with multiple short rests, lots of blood flowing through them, and thus are more metabolically “charged” than white meat muscles.  However, white meat muscles tend to be the largest muscles, and thus while not designed to burn calories as efficiently while at rest compared to dark meat muscles...they actually end up burning about the same through sheer volume.

Work on improving your muscles, move a bit more every day, eat more conscientously but not through the heavily warped fearmongering lens of the Diet Industry’s blather and/or tactics, and you will be healthy enough to go to the beach and enjoy it.  Not because you’ll have lost weight, but because you will be healthier.  (Fun fact: muscles are denser and heavier than fat, so you could literally lose inches while gaining pounds from your body burning the fat with its now increased muscle mass.)

And yes, you can weigh 260 pounds and still be healthier than someone who weighs 160.

In other words, if you have a body, and you go to the beach with it, you now have a beach body.

You’ll just be less likely to get out of breath while swimming or building sand castles or playing volleyball or whatever if you’ve upped your exercise levels between now and then.

Also:  CONTINUE TO WEAR A MASK IN PUBLIC.

Get one that matches your swimwear, or makes you feel silly & fun.  Even if everyone started wearing their masks (not going to happen, but one can dream), it will to take us all of 2021 to quell the pandemic...and because people won’t be wearing their masks, keep wearing that mask.  Yes, even if you have had all your shots.  Because people aren’t wearing masks, the virus is able to spread, and when it spreads, there’s always a chance it will mutate, and cause new strains of infections...which it already has.  So wear your damn mask.

[jjungkookislife]

31,32,35,104 withhh jeon 😉😉 thankiuu 🥺

pairing: professor!jungkook x professor!reader

31. “you’re in love with her.” 

32. “how much of that did you hear?”

35. “you want to tell me about it?”

104. Teacher Professor AU

tw: yoonmintae, cursing, meddling tae

It seems like the department is buzzing with excitement for one reason or another when you show up for work on Monday morning. You’re not too curious to find out the reason. Last time it was because of free donuts being in the lounge, although they were good, that was as much excitement as your department had.

Your heels click as you walk down the hallway of the third floor, a floor decorated solely for the offices of the professors. As you round the corner, your coffee in hand, you notice the office across from yours is no longer empty, but its new occupant is nowhere in sight and neither is his name plate. You shrug, wanting to get to your office as quickly as possible to avoid any unneeded human interaction before you’ve downed your large cup of coffee. As it seems, luck isn’t on your side as Professor Kim leans against his doorway beside yours.

“Such a lovely morning, don’t you think?” Taehyung smiles brightly and you scowl.

“Sure, Tae.” You grumble as you walk past him and into your office. You hang your purse on the coat rack behind your desk and set your coffee down before going to shut your door, but Taehyung is already walking into your office, door shutting behind him as he sits in the empty chair in front of your large desk.

“Did you hear everyone gossiping about the new professor? Apparently he’s gorgeous or something,” Taehyung shrugs as he kicks his feet up on your desk. You glare at him, smacking his shoes until he sets them on the floor.

“No, I haven’t heard a word nor do I care to. Don’t you have students to fail or something?” You ask with a raised brow as you take a long drink of your coffee. A soft moan escapes you, your hands clutching your cup tightly.

“Keep moaning like that and the rumors will be about us,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows and you flip him off.

“Nobody would believe that, Tae. I’m too good for you.”

“Ouch, babe,” Taehyung pretends to be wounded, clutching his hand over his chest, a pout on his lips.

“Those were your words, not mine,” you point out with a smirk.

“True though, you are way out of my league,” Taehyung chuckles and you flip him off again.

“You’re so fucking annoying. How are you this chipper so early in the morning?” You grumble as you turn your computer on.

“Two words; morning sex,” Taehyung licks his lips.

“Jimin or Yoongi?” You ask as you login to your computer. Waiting for it to load up before you can actually get to work.

“Both,” Taehyung smirks. You look up from your computer to look at him, “nice.”

“It was. Ugh, I didn’t want to come into work today. I’d rather be in bed with them,” Taehyung frowns, shaking his head before he gets up from his seat. “Anyway, if you see Professor Hottie, let me know. I’ve got a class stating in two minutes across campus and I don’t wanna be early.”

“Go! You’re awful!”

“Still the highest rated professor on campus,” Taehyung winks before he walks out of your office, shutting the door after him. Your best friend was something else.

*

You’ve taught two classes before you’re back in your office, your door wide open as you wait for any students to pop in during your office hours. You’re already texting Taehyung to find out where he wants to eat for lunch before your afternoon classes begin.

Movement catches your attention and you look up to see ‘Professor Hottie’ returning to his office.  In your rush to get to your own office, you had neglected to check his name plate.

From what you could tell, he was hot, and you were only looking at his back, which was very muscular in his white button-down shirt. His black slack hugged his waist, his black leather belt accentuating it further, and his thick thighs strained against the material. You licked your lips when you saw the fullness and roundness of his ass before your eyes trailed back up, noticing the long waves of his black hair.

“Dear god,” you mutter to yourself, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.  You hadn’t even seen his face yet and your thighs were already pressed together.

“Oh! Hey, you’re the new professor!  I’m Kim Taehyung!” you hear your best friend introduce himself, standing in front of your open doorway, a bright smile on his handsome face.  You don’t miss the way he freely checks out the man, licking his lips and quirking his head.

“Hello, I’m Jeon Jungkook.  Nice to meet you,” he says, a light blush coating the apples of his cheeks.

“Have you met my friend?” Taehyung asks, looking in your direction, and you curse as you rise from your seat to stand at your doorway.  Taehyung introduces you to Jungkook, a grin on his face the entire time, ignoring the what of the pointed glare you’re giving him.

Jungkook repeats your name, staring at you with furrowed brows, “have we met before?”

You’re at a loss for words, he truly is gorgeous like Taehyung had said and his beauty makes your brain go haywire.

“I-I don’t think so,” you stutter, unable to hold eye contact for longer than a few seconds.  “I’d have remembered you.”

Taehyung laughs, “bold.”

You feel flustered, turning on your heel and leaving both men out in the hallway.  Taehyung easily continues his conversation with Jungkook, going as far as inviting him to lunch with the both of you in an hour or so.

An hour later, Taehyung is popping his head into your office, “ready?”

“Yeah,” you answer as you grab your purse off the coat rack.  You leave your office, shutting and locking the door after you as Jungkook does the same.  He smiles at you in a friendly manner and you wish you could think of something to say, but instead, you allow Taehyung to lead the conversation as you walk beside him, with Jungkook on his left.

You’re thankful the lunch rush has passed by the time you arrive at the food court, immediately getting in line to grab a slice of pizza and a drink.  Taehyung and Jungkook follow after you and Taehyung pays for all of your lunches.

Jungkook tries to protest but Taehyung waves him off, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Trust me, you’re better off arguing with a wall than him. He’s stubborn as hell.” Taehyung nods in agreement and Jungkook nods, thanking Taehyung once again as the three of you sit at a table, away from all the students and the commotion going on in the cafeteria.

“So, what brings you to our lovely university?” Taehyung asks Jungkook after taking a rather large bite of his pizza.

Jungkook looks at you, smiling before turning to taehyung to answer his question, “I lived here when I was younger but my family moved away once I was in sixth grade. I had a best friend, but I lost contact with her shortly after. I was hoping she still lived here.”

“That’s so romantic,” Taehyung gushes, heart in his eyes. “Did you love her?”

Jungkook blushes, smiling sheepishly, “it was so long ago. I had a crush on her then, but I mean that was over a decade ago. We were best friends for most of our lives. I just wanted to see her again.”

“What was her name?” Taehyung asks. You’re curious about Jungkook’s story, eating as Taehyung prompts him for answers.

Jungkook answers Taehyung, and you freeze.  

Taehyung looks at you for 2 seconds before he’s bursting into laughter.  Jungkook furrows his brows, confused as to why Taehyung is laughing at him.  What had he said?

“Oh, this is gold! You weren’t able to find her on social media, right?” Taehyung directs the question at Jungkook, who shakes his head.

You sigh, finally looking at Jungkook, “it’s because I changed my last name after my dad left. I go by my mother’s last name instead.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, blinking owlishly as he takes a moment for this new information to sink in.  You were his childhood best friend?  He’d met you on his first day at his new job?  That easily?  He couldn’t believe his luck!

Jungkook says your name softly, repeating it a few times.  Taehyung sips his drink, slurping the last few droplets, but not wanting to leave the table for a refill and miss any of these revelations.

“Are you okay, Kook?” you ask, memories hitting you hard.  You remember when he’d first moved in next door, a shy little boy afraid of starting a new school.  You’d immediately befriended him, glad he was in your same class throughout elementary and eventually into middle school.  Until he moved, that is.

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathes, his heart racing in his chest.  “I just didn’t think I’d find you so fast.  I mean, it’s my first day here.  I dodn’t even think you’d still live here, much less teach here.  I’ve been looking for you for ages, you were my best friend and we moved so suddenly, I never got to say goodbye.”

You notice the frown on his face, your hand reaching out to place over his.  Jungkook doesn’t seem phased, instead he caresses your hand with his thumb.

“This is amazing!” Taehyung exclaims, clasping his hands together as he pushes his chair away, grabbing his empty cup.  “I need more soda, but don’t kiss until I get back!”

You roll your eyes, releasing Jungkook’s hand (much to his disappointment), “ignore him.  You’ll get used to it.”

Jungkook chuckles, “I will.  I’m just glad to see you again.”

*

A few months pass quickly, and you’re happy to announce that Jungkook is just as you remember him, except he’s not as shy as he once was.  He’s still sweet, funny, charming and an all-around good friend... well, except when he tries to drag you to the gym at 5am before work.  He can choke.

Taehyung has easily become one of Jungkook’s close friends, and you love that the three of you can hang out often, whether at work or in your homes.  All your friends and his find your story endearing, deeming it as fate bringing the two of you back together.

You’re not sure whether it’s fate or not, but you do know you’re slowly starting to fall for your best friend once again, just like you had all those years ago.  Only this time, there’s more at risk to lose.

Taehyung has stood on the sidelines, watching the two of you fumble around each other.  It didn’t take him long to figure out the two of you had a thing for each other, old feelings coming to surface after reconnecting.  However, you’d deny it every time he’d bring it up and although he knew he shouldn’t meddle, he felt it was his responsibility to do so when both of his friends’ happiness depended on it.  It didn’t take long for a plan to manifest, and one day he set it in motion.

*

You were running late to lunch one day, your class having gone over its allowed time slot.  You crossed campus as quick as possible, ignoring your growling stomach as you tore through the students to get into your building and up to your office.

Taehyung had texted you, assuring you that he and Jungkook would wait for you in his office before going to lunch.  He’d told you to take your time, no rush.

Taehyung sat in his office, grinning madly when he heard the familiar click of your heels as you came down the hall.  He could pinpoint your location with each click as he sat in his chair.  Jungkook sat on the corner of Tae’s desk as he talked about his plans for the weekend, and when the clicking of your heels grew close, Taehyung sat up straight.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Jeon,” Taehyung started.  Jungkook raised a brow at his friend, “what is it?”

“I’m only doing this as a best friend.  I don’t want her to get hurt. How do you feel about her?”  Taehyung asks.

“Her?” Jungkook asks, saying your name.  Taehyung nods in confirmation.

“She’s my friend.” Jungkook answers, hesitating.  He licks his lips, his face flushing with heat.

Taehyung shakes his head, “you’re in love with her.”

Jungkook bites his lip. He knew there was no point in lying to the human lie detector, so with a sigh he answers, “I am.  I couldn’t stop thinking of her after I moved.  I always hoped I’d meet her again, somehow.  She’s my first love and we’re friends now, and I cherish our friendship so much, but I love her.  I do, so much that it drives me insane being near her and not being able to hold her, to kiss her, to tell her I love her.”

Taehyung smirks, making eye contact with you as you stand in his doorway.  That’s all he needed to hear.

“Jungkook?” your voice startles Jungkook.  Looking at you and then Taehyung, panic clear in his eyes.

“How much of that did you hear?” Jungkook stands, his face red as he looks at his shoes.

“Enough to tell you I fell the same,” you answer shyly.  Jungkook looks at you, warmth spreading throughout his chest as he walks over to you, his hands cupping your face.

“You want to tell me about it?”

You nod, your eyes locked on his.  Your heart skips a beat as Jungkook’s thumbs rub your cheeks, his lips a hairbreadth away.

There’s nothing else said as his lips capture yours in a gentle kiss that grows deeper soon after.  Jungkook holds you close, promising himself to never let you go again.

[notyetneedcoffee]

No Secrets, Part 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (???)

Warnings: None in this section

You sat in the car staring at the house. Your beautiful new prison.  

“Miss Y/L/N, you have an incoming call from Miss Maximoff.” The car’s AI announce.  

“Hi Wanda, so who called you?”

“Steve. He sent me the file and thought I might be able to help.” She was on the other side of the planet at the moment. It had to be the dark hours of the morning where she was. Still, she sounded alert and concerned. “How are you holding up?”

“At the moment?” You sighed, gripping the steering wheel hard. “I’m frustrated.”

“That’s it?” Wanda laughed. “I’d be pissed.”

“Yeah, that too.” You admitted.

“Try not to be too angry, though. They just feel like every weird, inane, and inappropriate thing that pops into their head is some how on blazing display now. They conveniently forget that I can pick up on all that, too. I’m just better at not responding.”

You tried to put yourself in Tony’s shoes. As much as you hated it, you understood his reaction. You may not agree with his solution, but you understood. Picturing the crazy stuff that probably popped into the team’s minds, and having to deal with it all at once might be a bit much to deal with, it kind of made you smile. “I suppose being around everyone would get kind of maddening.”

Wanda laughed. “It’s why I don’t do parties. I know you’re still likely to see some of them before this wears off. Please keep one very important thing in mind. People are not what they think. What matters is the way they choose to act.”

“Okay.” You considered her words.  

“Much of what people think are caused by outside influences, or old tapes in their head. Still, they choose to do different. Just like someone may be racked with fear, but behave more bravely than anyone else. There are some people who’s thoughts are plagued with darkness, but they choose to be kind.”

Sitting quietly in your car, in front of the big modern house next to the lake, you knew things could be so much worse. The reality that Tony really was trying to be as good to you as he could right now sunk in. “You’re wiser than your years, my friend.”

“Don’t give me too much credit.” She laughed. “There is one other thing, Padawan. Don’t fight it. It’s like saying ‘hey don’t think about a blue monkey in a pink tu-tu’. You brain immediately conjures the monkey.”

“Okay.” You laughed despite yourself.  

“I don’t know how available I’ll be, but call me if you need to. Whenever, night or day.” Wanda encouraged.

“I will. Listen, thanks.”

“Don’t sound so down. You’re probably going to get tons of sleep, be able to catch up on all the great shows, work out all you want, and not have to listen to Sam and Bucky fight over who gets to pick the music in the gym. Time will fly by.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”  

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Thanks, Wanda.” You cut off the call as you popped the trunk to grabbed your bags.  

The house looked like a team from Architectural Digest picked the décor. It had all the conveniences of Tony’s smart homes. The refrigerator looked to be stocked by one of the compound’s chefs. A neat row of your favorite bottled juice was lined up beside your favorite soda and a stack of your favorite yogurts. On the giant bed you found a set of expensive silk pajamas and a plush robe under a copy of Anna Karenina. In the en-suite bathroom you found a tub big enough for four, and beside it a basket full of spa goodies.  

The cell phone in your pocket buzzed. Steve’s name scrolled across the screen.

“Hey.”

“You made it okay.”  

“Yeah. Tony must be feeling guilty. The house it loaded up with all kinds of gifts.” 

“I hope they’re nice.”

“I suppose.” You sighed. “I’d rather be home.”

“I know.” His voice was quiet.  

“Wanda called.” You sat down on the edge of the tub, running your hand over the fluffy towel.

“Good.” Steve took a deep breath. “I think we have, ah, some stuff to talk about but… God, I can’t do this over the phone. I’m sorry. I just… It feels wrong to do this over the phone.”

One of the generational leaps Steve never managed to make was his attitude towards the phone. It was a utilitarian tool. If you had something important to say, he felt you should do it face to face. You smiled, “I know. It’s okay, Steve.”

“Really?”

“We can talk later.” You gave a humorless laugh. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“I’m sorry, Honey. I really am.” Again his voice dropped low, quiet.

The little endearment warmed your cheeks. He so rarely used it. “No reason to be sorry, Steve.”

“Well, you get settled in and I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay. Steve,” You sighed. “Thank you for checking on me. You be safe.”  

“Will do.”

Strains of what you thought might be Verdi tickled the back of your mind. You stopped chopping the cucumber and put the knife down. The clock showed 12:35. It was still a half an hour until Bruce was supposed to be at the house.

‘Got to stay focused. This is so going to suck. What if she starts asking me questions? You’re going stumble around like a dumbass. Some genius you are. No. No. It’s going to be fine. It’s a short visit. I’ll be fine.’

Yep. Definitely Bruce.  

You munched on your salad as you split your attention between the British Bake Off on the television and Banner’s constant internal rambling. It swung from running down a check list for his visit to trying to remember the Band Aid’s commercial jingle.  

When the knock came at the door you looked at the clock. Only two minutes had passed. Bruce must have been at the street, or just coming down the long drive, when you heard him. Interesting.

“Hi Bruce.” You opened the door, popping a piece of cucumber in your mouth. “Hungry?”

“Ah, no.” He came in. “Thanks. I don’t want to be rude, but I’d like to just get to it. If you don’t mind, that is?”

“Why not?” You dropped into the chair at the table. “You’re just the first person I’ve seen in a week.”

‘Shit. Shit. Way to be a jerk.’

“It’s okay, Bruce.” You smiled. “I don’t mind, really. What do I do?”

“Ah, bring your chair out here. Then, ah, just let me run the scans.”

You pulled your chair out where he could walk around you. “Do I need to stay still?”

“No, I mean don’t dance around or anything.” He began pulling out equipment. He was internally humming the Verdi piece.  

“How’s the team?” You knew it would be kinder to just be quiet, but you were dying for some interaction.

“Okay. Staying busy.” Came out of his mouth, but a barrage of things hit you. ‘Cap won’t stop moping. Tony needs to cut back on the caffeine. I’m gonna go green on Bucky soon.’

“I heard you just got back. Some mission with Nat and Clint.”

‘What a dress.’  

“Ah, damn it. This sucks.” Bruce looked away from the device in his hands and deep in your eyes. “I’m really sorry, but I’m just afraid to talk about anything okay.”

You frown, nodding. “I’m sorry. I’ll stay quiet.”

‘Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.’

“You know what? Fuck it.” He sighed. “Things are tense. They’re kind of awful. Tony and I stick to the lab. Cap is walking around on auto-pilot. Bucky is fucking impossible. Sam is trying to play peacemaker but failing spectacularly. Clint came up with the mission just because Natasha and Bucky nearly killed each other sparring.”

‘I hate it. Hate it.’

“I’m sorry.” You twisted you hands together. “I don’t want everyone miserable over what happened to me.”

‘No. No. No. Fuck. Don’t cry. I’m going rip Tony’s arms off if she cries.’

“Not your fault.” Bruce sighed.  

“Bruce.” You lifted you jaw. “I know it’s not my fault, but at least if I were there Tony wouldn’t feel guilty, I could tell Steve snap out of it, and I could smack Buck up side the head. You tell them to knock that crap off.”

He chuckled. “I’ll tell them you said so.”

Bruce asked you some medical questions and took a blood sample after finishing the scan. He calmed down quite a bit, but still left as soon as he could. Later that evening he called you to say that the reading were consistent with your time in the lab. The anomaly would go away, it would just take time.  

You made yourself a hot chocolate and curled up on one of the deck chairs to listen to sounds of the evening forest when you got off the phone. It would be a long while alone. The sun wouldn’t set for a while yet, and you were reading a new book. Reading outside lessened the feeling of being trapped.  

‘Don’t care. Got to do this.’

You head came up at the same time you heard the motorcycle pull down the drive. By the time Steve parked his bike, you stood at the edge of the deck just a few feet away. He looked up, seeing you clutch a throw blanket around your shoulders, wearing jeans and an old tee. Steve looked you over from bare feet to big eyes.

‘Beautiful.’

“I missed you.” He said, voice low.

“Missed you, too.”

Steve stepped closer. “I’ve been thinking, a lot. There’s something I don’t think I can, I don’t want, to wait to tell you.”

“Okay.” You swallowed, fighting to hold still. So much, so strong, hit you at once. 

He took a deep breath, his large hand touched your hair, cupped your face. “I’m not sure when my feelings changed, but for a long time now all I can think about is how much I want you, want you to be with me.”

‘Those lips. So pretty.’

You felt a smile curl at the corner of your mouth. His mouth covered yours, lips gentle and soft. When your hands slid along his waist. His tongue swept lightly along your lip and was met by your own. He moan, pulling you close, kiss deepening.

‘God, yes, honey.’

BLEEEP! CRASH!

You both jerked away from each other in shock.    

‘No! Not now!’

It took a second for the realization to hit you that you heard a car crash. Somewhere close by.  

‘No. No. No. Dammit. Not now.’  

Steve looked at you, “I should see what happened.”

“Yeah,” You breathed.

‘No. We should go inside, forget we heard anything. Want to feel you again.’

“It’s okay.” He covered your hand with his own when you touched his chest. “I’ll be here when you get back.” You gave him a warm smile.

‘No. I don’t want to go anywhere. Not missing out again.’

“Okay.” Steve nodded, stepping away from you. “I’ll be back soon.”

TAGS

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[ateezlust]

Still got on that Train

Pairing: Yeosang/San

Warnings: smut, they be grinding it out on a train, they don’t get caught tho which isn’t realistic but I’m not here to write realistic shit

A/N: it’s back bitch!

————————————•———————————

Somehow the sound of Yeosang’s alarm going off had merged itself with his dream, only waking him up when the sound of the front door shutting alarmed him, signalling his roommate had left for the morning.

Yeosang sat straight up in bed, looking down and groaning at the tent in the fabric of his pyjama pants. He leaned back and sighed as he palmed himself over the fabric, only coming to an abrupt stop upon checking the time and seeing he was late for a class. As a normal person, Yeosang would usually say ‘fuck it’ and skip class to jerk off, however as a college student, he had a test with 10% of his grade and he really really didn’t feel like getting a 0 because he wanted to rub one out.

“For fucks sake,” he said, getting out of bed and throwing on some sweatpants and a shirt. He looked fucked, the pants weren’t hiding anything but it was not a day to wear skinny jeans, the only saving grace being the large shirt on him, which still wasn’t covering much.

He situated himself as best he could, fixing his hair and throwing his books in his backpack; he knew he’d have to catch the late train, as his normal route was already long gone, but that was more or less the last thing on his mind as he ran out the door.

As he arrived at the train station, he looked at the time again; his train was just pulling in and he still had 35 minutes, and momentarily he wondered why he’d never just taken this train before, it was only a 20 minute ride.

But as the train doors open and he entered to a flood of people around him, that’s when he realized why. There was nowhere to sit, nowhere that was comfortable enough that you didn’t feel like you were invading somebody’s personal space. It was his own living hell.

So he shoved his way through scowling people to the back, as far away from them as he could, until he was met with a friend from college. Choi San.

He was red faced, hair a mess and clothing wrinkled as he stopped and stood in front of San, deciding it was about as good a place as any to stand, especially on a moving train.

“Hey slick, you’re looking awful polished today,” San snorted, being met only with heavy panting and a glare from the other.

“Fuck off. I woke up late,” Yeosang replied, trying to catch his breath.

San snorted once again in response, leaving the two in a comfortable silence afterward. Well as comfortable as it could be until the next stop in the city where everybody and their dog got onto the train.

He cursed internally as he was shoved closer and closer to San, alerting him once again to the problem in his pants that would not go away.

His mind began reeling of what he should do, should he try and angle himself away as best he could? Should he hold onto the handle bars near him for dear life and hope for the best? Should he hop off at the next stop and just walk the rest of the way in shame? Should he jump off of the moving train?

He didn’t have much time to think as the train jerked into action again, shoving his entire body against San’s. He swallowed down the moan in his throat as his cock brushed San’s thigh and opted instead to look anywhere except San for the next 10 minutes.

But that’s not how life works, of course, as San smirked down at him, hands sneaking around Yeosang’s waist and pulling closer, his voice was teasing in Yeosang’s ear as he whispered, “seems like someone’s got a problem hm?”

Yeosang shivered, body becoming putty in San’s hands as San moved their hips together, “I, I woke up w-with it a-“

He was cut off by a whimper attempting to escape his throat as San’s hand snuck down in front of them and stroked Yeosang through his sweatpants.

“Shh, no talking, let me help you yeah?” San whispered, hand moving quicker over Yeosang’s cock, watching the older boy squirm, precum leaking through his sweats and onto San’s hand.

After a long time of having his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, Yeosang opened them to find San not quite as unaffected as he’d assumed. San was red in the face, his own cock beginning to tent his jeans and beg for attention. And Yeosang was always taught to give what you get, so he reached a shaking hand down and palmed San over the front of his jeans.

“Fuck,” San whimpered into his ear, letting go of his hold on Yeosang’s length and opting to grind on each other instead. It felt better, so much better to Yeosang, feeling San throbbing just as much as he was.

Just as Yeosang was opening his mouth to tell San that he was gonna cum, he was cut off by the sound of the train announcing their stop.

“For fucks sake,” Yeosang cursed, allowing himself to nuzzle into San’s chest in pure sexual frustration and anger.

“Look we’re both already late for class, we’ll get a make up date for it okay?” San asked, not giving Yeosang a chance to question before the train came to a stop and he was yanked off of it and into the nearest bathroom.

Before he could say anything, the door was locked and he was shoved against a wall, San against his lips and moaning into his mouth while he ground his hips.

“Fuck,” Yeosang cursed, kissing him back just as hard and messy, using each other like they didn’t have to go back into the public eye again as San tugged Yeosang’s hair and Yeosang sucked hickies into San’s neck.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done, you’re so hot holy shit,” San whined out, feeling the heat build in his stomach and a sheen of sweat cover him as he moved faster, “gonna cum.”

Yeosang nodded vigorously, unable to respond verbally as his stomach tightened for the third time that morning.

“Fuck, Yeosang,” San’s entire body tensed, releasing hot cum into his jeans, which is all it took for Yeosang to reach his own high, leaning in and biting down on San’s shoulder to keep from screaming out at how good it felt.

Before long they both began to come down from their highs, kissing each other softly as the post-orgasm calmness kicked in.

“We totally missed that test,” San said, pulling away, causing Yeosang to giggle.

“And to think I could’ve stayed in bed this morning after all,” Yeosang rolled his eyes, pulling back from San and looking down at the wet patches on both of their pants.

San snorted, “well, this was fun but now it feels really gross, I’ve got a few extra pairs of gym shorts if you wanna borrow one of them?”

Yeosang nodded, stripping out of his old sweats and almost gagging, deciding to just throw them out rather than carry them around the whole day, and slipping on the shorts San lent him.

San looked over at Yeosang fiddling with the strings of the shorts, almost cooing at how big they were on the boy. He reached forward and grabbed the strings out of Yeosang’s hands, using them to pull him closer.

“I’m gonna need these back eventually, they’re one of my favourite pairs,” San said, watching Yeosang’s face flush red as he tied the string of the shorts.

“Ah, yeah, I’ll get them back to you soon,”

“How about tomorrow night at 7?” San smirked, though a hint of worry shot through his eyes as Yeosang caught onto him and looked up at him.

“Choi San are you asking me on a date after we already came all over each other?” Yeosang snorted, not giving San a chance to respond, “in that case, I would love nothing more.”

San smiled down at Yeosang lovingly, a hand coming up to his cheek, brushing it softly before leaning in to give him a long, gentle kiss, before they gathered their belongings, and departed for their next classes together holding hands.

[fics-of-my-mind]

Trust - Chapter XI.

‘Jeez,’ I grimaced. ‘You’re trying to kill me?’

‘Just want you to have a good time, Hun,’ Erica chuckled. ‘This is your LA club virginity after all.’

We laughed together, then I excused myself to the bathroom. I was getting used to this, living in this city, this country, going to clubs like the locals. I pressed myself through between sweaty bodies with a grin on my face on my way to the toilette.

It only took one second for the moment to freeze. It was just like in movies, when everything stops, when you can’t concentrate on your surroundings, just that one thing you see. Like one of the rom-coms, a scene that I never thought could happen in real life.

The millisecond my gaze wandered to the upstairs VIP area, I was faced with two very familiar dark brown orbs, also staring at me in shock. He was leaning on his elbows on the railing, a drink in his hand. He looked amazing, in a dark blazer, black T-shirt and some jeans. His stubble looked a bit bigger than last time I saw him. His lips were ajar as he tried comprehending my presence in a downtown LA club.

It lasted for an extremely long moment, then as soon as I got my composure back, I turned away, heading towards the restrooms, not looking back.

I wasn’t stupid. When I moved here – hell, when I first heard Sophie say ‘LA opportunity’ – it crossed my mind that one of the barriers between us, the distance would be gone. We’d be living in the same city. It seemed more possible to run into each other than before. Then again, I wasn’t naïve either. As much as I liked to think of the coincidence of getting to know Nick in his natural habitat, I knew that there was a microscopic chance of the same thing happening again.

But it did. Nick was here. We were in the same club.

Warnings: mature content, BDSM content Pairing: Nick Jonas / Other Female Character This fanfiction can also be found on Wattpad by fnntth

I don’t own Nick Jonas or any other recognizable characters. This fanfiction is completely fictional, its only purpose is entertainment.

Chapter XI. - Standing in the dark, although we've turned on the lights

In the beginning of September what I was afraid of for months became reality: I was fired. Not because I made a mistake, not because I wasn’t working hard enough, simply because due to COVID the brand in Hungary wasn’t profitable anymore. At the same time, I was offered an opportunity inside the company. An opportunity that came with a move.

The brand I was working on had its headquarters in Los Angeles. When they started firing people from the company, they kept the ones that ‘could be a real asset in the future’, or at least that’s what they told me. I just had to be ready to move, something that I never thought would be an option for me in my life.

I had everything in Hungary. My friends, my family, my home, my dog. I’ve never been one of those people that were brave and went to unknown places with the plans of making new friends, building a new life. I never even went on Erasmus or Campus Mundi, the international programs my university was offering. I wasn’t that kind of person to just get up and leave it all behind, to move thousands of miles away.

This was a big opportunity. Once in a lifetime, as Sophie, my boss said. She also stated that she was jealous, that she didn’t think this would happen when they asked her to evaluate the team members. But apparently, I fit the brand’s profile as so as they were willing to move me out to the USA.

I had to do this. This was life giving me an out of the current situation, something to help me take my mind off the heartbreak. This was something that I couldn’t say no to.

I spent my last day at the Budapest office crying my eyes out. I couldn’t stop. I loved working here, I loved my coworkers, my bosses, the whole company. In the evening we went for a dinner, just the three of us, the core of the team and toasted to new beginnings and opportunities.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for change, yet a few days later I was on my way to the airport with my life packed into two big suitcases. It hurt to leave; hurt to leave my dog home with my parents, to step out on my apartment’s door, to decide what was worth taking with me and what wasn’t. It was pretty hard, yet I still preferred being sad over this than over Nick.

Moving to a new city, a city more than 6000 miles away from my home was extremely scary. I didn’t know anyone, I wasn’t part of the local culture, I’ve never even been to the US in my life. Always wanted to go, just never had the chance. At least, I’ve watched enough American series to have an idea about how the things were going to go, starting with the huge amount of paperwork I’ve had to fill just to get my work visa.

What does one see when thinking about Los Angeles? Palm trees, beaches, sun, surfers, green juices. No one tells you that it rains a lot, that some neighborhoods are quite dangerous, that it’s perfectly normal to see a police chase on your third day in the city. And the tourists… Now that the virus was gone – or at least in sleep mode – tourists were everywhere. You couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything.

My first impression… wasn’t too great. The minute I set foot in LA, I thought that I was making a huge mistake. I’ve already missed my family, my friends, my dog, everything. I didn’t know a single soul, I’ve had no one to turn to when I wasn’t sure about something. On the first night, I called my (now ex) boss, Sophie in tears, hoping that she’d save me and get me my job back at home back.

‘Suck it up and do what I’ve taught you,’ was all she said, being the confident lady boss I’ve always admired. She was more than just my boss, she was a real role model, someone I wanted to become in ten years. Hearing her say that this was the biggest opportunity in my life did the trick, the next day I started working with my old ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ motto in mind.

Since it was the company moving me out, they agreed to pay my rent for the first six months of living in LA, which was quite generous. I got a condo in Hermosa, not so far from the office. You see, I understood why in movies they always have cars in LA. ‘Not so far’ meant 35 minutes by public transportation, one and a half hour on foot, yet only fifteen minutes by car.

Problem is, I hated driving. I had my license since I was 17, yet never liked driving. I loved it much more, when someone would take me somewhere, and I always choose public transportation in Budapest. Here, I had no choice, on the second week of living in LA, I spent all my savings on a car.

The apartment building was near the beach, like only a few streets down. This was an aspect I loved in the first minute. I’ve never lived in a city or country where there was an actual beach, and I could already see myself taking long walks in the evenings, since I’ve had nothing better to do anyway. The property also had a pool and a gym – both luxuries that wasn’t usual in my country.

The apartment itself was fully furnished in a minimalistic style, which I would’ve loved, but the close to zero decoration made it feel empty. My two suitcases of clothes and stuff were lost in the two bedroom apartment, and it was just so lonely. I felt even more alone than before, still debating if this was the right decision.

Then, on my first day of work I fell in love with the edgy office building, the cool people around me and basically with just the atmosphere. I loved being at work, it took my mind off everything else, and really, I was doing surprisingly good. Even though I was pretty good in English, I’ve had this fear that I’d get misunderstood, or couldn’t pick up the pace, but all went well. When I left the office on my first day, I walked out with a smile on my face, knowing that yes, I needed to do this.

Some of my colleagues took it upon themselves to make me feel less alone. It didn’t take them long, by October I was part of their little group. I’ve gotten especially close with a girl, Erica, one of the coolest people I’ve ever met. She was my new self-claimed best friend.

After a month of living in the US, I was definitely happy. Still lonely, but much happier than during the whole summer, or before that. I was thriving, doing something I loved, being good at it, being surrounded by amazing people in a place of which I’ve just dreamed of before. I wasn’t perfectly happy with LA yet, but I was getting used to it.

Sure, it was still quite lonely. Going home to the empty apartment, realizing that I can only call my parents or friends if I’m sure they are already awake… It was a process. The whole move and change was a process that was still happening. And to my biggest surprise, the process made me happier after all.

I’ve never imagined living in LA. When I daydreamed about coming to the US, it was always New York, city of my dreams. But here I was… And I decided that I wasn’t going to hold myself back from experiencing something great. Los Angeles was the city of dreams after all, wasn’t it?

When Erica suggested that we go to a nightclub I even forgot to oppose to the idea. It’s been so long since I went out, probably months ago, when Vanda and Amalia dragged me somewhere. Not that I didn’t like going out, I just haven’t been in the mood lately.

But when my newfound bestie showed up at my apartment with her makeup bag and some slutty choices of outfit, I couldn’t resist. It felt so good to dress up, do my hair and feel fabulous again, and I was also a little curious about the LA night life. I’ve lived here for a month now, and I’ve only been to a couple of bars and restaurants with my colleagues, so it was time to go exploring.

I choose a black satin cocktail dress, not too short, yet barely reaching my knees with an open back. Honestly, I think the past months of agony did good to my body, I definitely liked more what I saw in the mirror. My waist was slender, my figure was just curvy enough and I didn’t even mind that I haven’t lost any fat from my ass, since the pencil form of the dress made it look amazing.

I wanted to wear flats, but Erica reminded me that this was LA. It wasn’t allowed for me to wear anything but high heels, even if I took them off during the night. So I choose my black, way too high for my liking sandals and my also black Furla purse – one of the more expensive pieces of accessories I owned.

We did our makeups – yay to working at a beauty company and having endless amounts of free products – and Erica curled my hair slightly, something that I was never able to do for myself.

I looked surprisingly amazing. Erica too, in her own red bodycon dress. We were hot. Probably this is why we got in to the newest club in town – after some pre-gaming at home – in only ten minutes of time. It also helped that Erica knew one of the bartenders.

‘Okay, I’ve got to admit that this is fun,’ I laughed two hours later, when we made our way to the crowded bar. I felt alive. This nightlife scene was much bigger than the one at home, much more exciting and I was having an amazing time. We spent the past hours dancing around, then drinking, then dancing some more. I was buzzed enough, so my feet weren’t killing me in the heels.

‘Told ya’ she smiled, asking her bartender friend for another round of gin tonics, and also some tequila shots. ‘C’mon girl, we gotta’ keep up the level,’ she chuckled, raising her tequila glass at me.

I normally hated shots, but my slightly drunk self couldn’t resist. I grinned at her, clicking our glasses, then threw back the drink. Tequila burned through my esophagus, down to my stomach, making me warm.

‘Jeez,’ I grimaced. ‘You’re trying to kill me?’

‘Just want you to have a good time, Hun,’ Erica chuckled. ‘This is your LA club virginity after all.’

We laughed together, then I excused myself to the bathroom. I was getting used to this, living in this city, this country, going to clubs like the locals. I pressed myself through between sweaty bodies with a grin on my face on my way to the toilette.

It only took one second for the moment to freeze. It was just like in movies, when everything stops, when you can’t concentrate on your surroundings, just that one thing you see. Like one of the rom-coms, a scene that I never thought could happen in real life.

The millisecond my gaze wandered to the upstairs VIP area, I was faced with two very familiar dark brown orbs, also staring at me in shock. He was leaning on his elbows on the railing, a drink in his hand. He looked amazing, in a dark blazer, black T-shirt and some jeans. His stubble looked a bit bigger than last time I saw him. His lips were ajar as he tried comprehending my presence in a downtown LA club.

It lasted for an extremely long moment, then as soon as I got my composure back, I turned away, heading towards the restrooms, not looking back.

I wasn’t stupid. When I moved here – hell, when I first heard Sophie say ‘LA opportunity’ – it crossed my mind that one of the barriers between us, the distance would be gone. We’d be living in the same city. It seemed more possible to run into each other than before. Then again, I wasn’t naïve either. As much as I liked to think of the coincidence of getting to know Nick in his natural habitat, I knew that there was a microscopic chance of the same thing happening again.

But it did. Nick was here. We were in the same club.

I closed the door of the ladies’ room behind me and leaned on the sink for support, trying to calm my rapid breathing down. I did not expect this, not really. I wasn’t prepared to see him, even if just from a distance. All the feelings, all the hurt I tried letting go of were back in the second our gazes found each other.

Up until that moment I was doing fine. Moving on with my life, concentrating on other things, not letting myself sink into depression because of Nick. I thought I had it under control with the move, the new environment, the new people. Turns out, I didn’t. It was just an act, pretending that everything was okay, that I was over him.

Well, clearly I wasn’t. At least that’s what the twenty minutes I’ve spent collecting myself said.

When I finally left the restroom, I was a little bit worried that Nick was going to be waiting outside for me. When he wasn’t, I felt both relieved and a little bit disappointed. Maybe he didn’t want to see me. Maybe he successfully forgot me.

I shook my head, trying to remind myself that my goal was to leave without having one of those awkward moments with him. I wasn’t ready to face him. He was still married. I wasn’t as over him as much as I would’ve liked. It’s been long months since I’ve heard from him.

Not being the kind of person to just leave Erica behind without a world, my way lead back to the bar. I’ve successfully made it through the sea of people, suddenly not enjoying the throbbing nightlife of LA anymore. My feet started hurting, so I’ve kept my gaze on the ground, trying not to fall.

This is how I ended up bumping into someone’s chest. I mean, it wasn’t really a surprise, there were a lot of people in the club and I wasn’t looking in front of me.

I could feel my ankle twist in the high heels, which made me wince. I was expecting the fall to the floor, I was ready to have everyone looking at me. Instead I could feel strong hands on my upper arms, keeping me from falling.

I didn’t need to look up to know who it was. His intense, unique scent of sandalwood, pink pepper, mint and lavender instantly filled my lungs. I froze in the moment. My eyes were fixated on his black T-shirt, as I tried regaining my balance.

‘Milla,’ Nick said, his voice almost like a whisper. This made me immediately raise my glance and look into his dark brown eyes. It was like a cheesy movie, the moment our gazes collided, the outside world stopped existing. I didn’t hear the music, didn’t feel the people, didn’t feel my feet hurt.

I wanted to jump into his arms (even more), I wanted to kiss him, hug him, never let him go. At the same time, there was this urge in me to run away instantly, to avoid him for the rest of my life. Maybe it was the fresh heartbreak, maybe it was the fact that things between us still weren’t right, they weren’t possible.

I felt like a deer caught in headlights, looking up at him with my lips parted. I was shocked to be this close to him again, to bump into him in this sweaty club. His hands still on my arms didn’t exactly help either.

He looked amazing, even more up close than before. He was extremely hot, perfectly fitting into the LA nightlife scene. Being close to him made me want to do things, things I’ve wanted before, yet the feeling was even more intensive now, after long months of being away.

‘How–‘ he started, his handsome features in confusion, but as sook as I heard his voice, I shook my head, stepping back. This wasn’t the time or the place to talk. We were already too close. He was too close.

‘Don’t.’

It was all I said before walking past him, not caring about my hurt ankles. I just knew that I had to get out of here. By the time I reached the bar and Erica, I couldn’t resist turning back.

Nick was gone.

A/N: Thank you so much for all your wonderful feedbacks! It feel so good to read that you love the story as much as I do!

Take care,

F

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (39/40)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch. 

But then he came back and won the World Series. 

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now. 

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

a/n: thank you to @resident-of-storybrooke​ for literally everything, to @imagnifika​ for this banner, and to all of you for all of your support on this story and on others. I never expected to get quite so attached to this one, so I like that you guys are too. Misery loves company and all that. lol. 

I hope you enjoy the last real chapter. The epilogue will be coming soon! ❤️⚾️

(If there’s any weird formatting, hop on over and read on AO3. Tumblr is being funky with my formatting.)

AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

Outside, thunder rolls, quickly followed by a flash of lightning that illuminates the bedroom.

It’s raining.

Raining.

On the final day of the World Series.

Fuck.

Emma jolts up in bed so quickly that her head gets a little dizzy, all of the blood that’s supposed to be in other parts of her body very obviously in the wrong space, and she has to shut her eyes to keep from throwing up while the sound of rain continues to pitter outside, a continual drip that she doesn’t want to be hearing.

It cannot rain today.

After a few seconds, when Emma’s head feels normal again and not like she’s about to feel dizzy enough to fall down even without standing, she opens her eyes and twists to the side to make sure that Killian is still sleeping.

He isn’t.

In fact, he’s not even in bed.

For a moment, Emma wonders if she should bother to go and find him or let him be by himself wherever he is in the apartment. He was understandably quiet on the entire way home and through dinner last night, and she could practically see all of the gears turning in his head. There’s an unwritten list up there of how he wants to pitch to each and every batter on the Dodgers today, and Emma is almost positive that Killian is currently going through it and changing his game plan over and over again until he perfects it.

Considering the fact that her phone says it’s three in the morning, Emma is thinking that she needs to drag Killian back to bed. He may not fall asleep, but he can at least stay in bed so that his body gets a little bit of rest. Maybe he’ll fall asleep. Maybe he won’t. But it’s worth the effort.

Sighing, Emma pulls the thick covers off of her legs and adjusts her pajama pants so that they’re not hanging below her ass from where they shifted in her sleep. She doesn’t bother turning any lights on, the city and the storm bringing in enough that she can see without it, and after walking out into the hallway, Emma doesn’t even have to look in the spare bedroom or the gym to find Killian.

He’s sitting on the window seat in the living room, his legs pulled up to his chest and his cheek resting against the window as he looks outside, very obviously awake.

Killian is going to stress himself out far too much.

Quietly, she makes her away over to him, and while he doesn’t say anything to acknowledge her presence, he does let his legs fall open in obvious invitation for her to join him on the seat. She does, slowly adjusting herself to make herself comfortable while Killian wraps his arms around her stomach so that the warmth of his palms permeates over her skin to warm her from the chill of the apartment. It’s November in two days, but New York is already cold.

There’s a brush of scruff against her cheek followed by the soft press of lips against the underside of her jaw before Emma sees the reflection in the window of Killian resting his chin on the top of her head.

His fingers tap against her stomach in a pattern that she doesn’t recognize, but she doesn’t mind. She may have come out here to convince Killian to come back to bed, to get some rest so he won’t be like a zombie out on the field today, but there’s something almost soothing about watching the rain fall down to the ground to cover the street under the florescent lighting of the street lamps. Even with the thunder, the sound of rain is relaxing, and Emma can understand why Killian was out here being consumed by it.

(She’d still prefer the rain to stop.)

“What are you thinking about?” Emma whispers.

“You.”

“Liar.”

Killian chuckles, something deep in his belly, and she can feel it reverberate throughout her back from where he’s pressed up into her. “I mean, at this particular moment I was legitimately thinking about how good you smell, but no, I haven’t been thinking about you and the softness of your hair the entire time.”

“Damn. I thought our deal was that you always had to think of me and nothing else. Don’t you love me?”

Killian squeezes her stomach. “It’s too early in the morning for you to be so cheeky.”

“Says the man who probably never even went to sleep.”

“I did go to sleep,” he sighs, and Emma watches his eyes flutter closed in the window. “I maybe woke up an hour or so ago to use the restroom, and my mind just…it didn’t bloody turn off. I have changed mine and Al’s game plan at least seven times.”

Wow. She knows him so well. It’s almost a little ridiculous. Not that she’s complaining.

“Let’s…” Emma hesitates, not sure what exactly what to say that she hasn’t already said. “Let’s talk about something other than baseball, okay? We will talk about it after we’ve gone back to sleep and gotten some rest, but for now, this apartment is a no baseball zone. So, talk to me about literally anything else.”

His fingers keep tapping against her stomach, and Emma moves to place her hands over his, a silent reminder that she’s right here and not going anywhere. She may have run before, may have not known what to do when he lied about his shoulder and his accident and everything that came with that, but she’s not going to run now.

This entire relationship has been terrifying, but she’s glad that she took the leap. They’ve conquered some big freaking mountains.

“I’ve emailed someone to see what I need to do to finish my degree.”

Emma almost jolts forward so that she can turn to look at him, but Killian doesn’t let her, holding onto her that slightest bit tighter so that she loses a little bit of her breath.

“When did you decide to do that?”

“A couple weeks ago.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Wasn’t sure if I was going to go through with it. I’m…I’m still not sure when exactly I’ll go back. The woman said they could arrange online classes for me, and they can help arrange a different schedule. I don’t know if I’d start during the off season and see how many credits I can finish before next season starts up. Or maybe I’ll go all year round even while playing. I could always wait until I’m retired, but I don’t exactly want to do that.”

Emma tries to take it all in and figure out the best way to respond to him. This is obviously something Killian has thought about a lot. There’s not a reason in the world for Killian to have to go back to school. He’s not going to be a physics teacher or professor any time soon, if at all, so this is obviously something he’s decided to do for himself just to have as an accomplishment.

Killian deserves to get to do things for himself.

“I think you’ll figure out exactly how you want to do it, babe. I’m really proud of you for doing that.”

“It’s nothing to be proud of.”

“Too bad.” She pats his hand again and shifts her head back so that she can kiss the underside of his jaw. “I’m proud of you. Unless this is some kind of long con to actually become professor Jones so that Will can’t say it mockingly anymore.”

He chuckles, and she kisses his jaw again. “Damn. You’ve foiled my plan.”

“I knew it,” she yawns, unable to cover her mouth with her hands. “You know, when I graduated from college, I got some kind of fancy ink pen that I never used. They gave them to all of the journalism majors. What do you think they’d give physics majors? Calculators?”

“No, because we’d already own a hell of a lot of those. I might need to get some new ones, though. And possibly find some old books and go through them. It’s been almost a decade. I’m not sure I even remember anything.”

“We can go back to school shopping for you. We’ll have to take a picture of you in your cute little outfit with your backpack on your shoulders. I’ll put it on the fridge and everything.”

“You realize I’m doing this online so I’ll just be wearing my regular clothes sitting on my ass in here. I may not even wear clothes while I’m doing it.”

“Well, I can still put that picture on the fridge, but we’ll have to take it down every time someone comes over. No one needs to see that much of you.”

Killian practically purrs in her ear as he trails hot kisses down the side of her neck, and it sends chills down her spine and up over her skin. “You certainly do. You could see it now if you want to.”

Emma brings her bottom lip between her teeth and tries to rein in any budding arousal. “As tempting as that sounds, you and I are both deliriously tired, and I really only came out here to get you to come back to bed…to sleep. We should go do that.”

Teeth bite down onto her neck. “Fine. That seems like the sensible thing to do, and as an almost college man, I have to be sensible, right?”

“Or binge drink and then study all night for a test at the last minute even though you had weeks to study for it?”

“Do people still do that?”

“I think so.”

“We’re really old, Swan.”

“Yeah,” she sighs as she stands from the bench and pulls Killian up with her, “but I think we’ve still got it.”

Emma easily falls back asleep, especially when Killian closes the curtains and turns on the box fan to drown out the sound of the storm outside, and while she doesn’t really know when Killian fell asleep, he’s slumbering away when she wakes up, his breath coming out in small puffs and his hair falling over his forehead. The weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders right now. He’s not thinking about what he’s got to do today or not do today, and Emma hopes that he sleeps as long as he can.

Hopefully right up until he needs to eat breakfast and go to practice.

But hopes are not always reality, and in reality, Killian wakes up a little past nine and all of the tenseness in his body returns. She can see it in the set of his shoulders and the way that he carries himself as he does some stretches to loosen his body up before making breakfast and getting on with his morning routine. She’s terrified, her stomach absolutely in knots, but she’s not going to tell him that. Emma is sure that he’s aware that she’s in this and wants this for both herself and for him, but she’s not going to tell him and put any extra pressure on them.

It’s more than just one man out there. It’s more than just Killian, but Emma understands how Killian works. If they win, he won’t take any credit for it. If they lose, it’ll be entirely his fault. She’s sure he’s talked himself into thinking otherwise, but his brain will revert back to that.

The storm in the night seems to have disappeared, the streets beginning to dry even if large puddles of rain water are left in dips in the cement, and according to all forecasts, it should be dry enough for them to play today. There are supposed to be light sprinkles, maybe a scattered storm or two, but it’s all sunshine when the game is scheduled to start. If there are any delays, Emma hopes that they aren’t long.

Killian may very well lose his mind.

(She may too.)

He’s currently showering, and while she hasn’t been keeping track of how long he’s been in there, it’s been long enough for her to curl her hair. She’s entirely sure that the humidity is going to cause it to frizz and fall flat, and the network will probably have her hair constantly attached to a curling iron and hair spray until her hair is like a bird’s nest of tangles and product.

Whatever it takes to look good on TV today, right?

She’s supposed to wear a dress or a skirt, something form flattering and attractive for television, but since there are no technical rules as long as she stays dressed, Emma completely ignores that suggestion in favor or her favorite jeans, a pair of trusty boots, and one of Killian’s jerseys, buttoning it up and tucking the front into her jeans. She’ll have to put on a sweater later to combat the cold, but she doesn’t want to do that just yet.

It’s ridiculous, but putting on the sweater means it’s time to go and she’s just…she’s not ready. They need a little more time.

“Are you wearing my jersey?”

Emma jumps and clutches her hand against the chain around her neck that’s visible with the way the jersey is buttoned up. She did not hear the shower turn off or hear Killian open the bathroom door. But considering he’s standing in the doorway with a towel wrapped low around his waist, he obviously did.

“Yeah?”

“What about – ”

Emma shrugs, a smile stretching across her lips. “Fuck them. I don’t give a damn about what anyone has to say. I can do my job while also dating you. It’s not a mutually exclusive thing, and today is a big day. If I want to wear the jersey, I can wear it now.”

Both of Killian’s brows rise high on his forehead, but he’s smiling too as his arms cross over his chest so that his muscles bulge the slightest bit. “I think this is the most attractive you’ve ever been.”

“Because I’m wearing your jersey? I thought we’d gone over that before. I – ”

“No,” he laughs with a shake of his head. “Because you’re saying fuck ‘em to all of the people who we both know will say shit about you wearing that. I personally think they should all pull the sticks out of their asses, but then what would they have to talk about?”

“Happy things?”

“Nah, that’s too boring for them.” Killian walks toward her, a definite swagger in his stride, and the cool tips of his fingers come up to touch her cheeks as he cups her face and brings his lips down to move over hers, slowly and thoroughly kissing her until she can’t breathe. It’s the good kind of breathless, though. “I don’t know if I’m going to kick ass today, but I know that you are. It’s pretty much undeniable.”

“You’re going to kick ass. Think it into existence, twenty-nine.”

“Yeah, but I don’t…I don’t know. I – ”

Emma sighs, and she swears it goes all the way down to her bones. There’s only so much she can say. At the end of the day, Killian has to be the one to believe in himself.

“You know,” she starts as her hand reaches up to her neck so that her fingertips ghost over the cool metal again, “about two months ago I had this really big thing happen to me, and I don’t think I’d ever been that nervous. Well, that was until my idiot boyfriend decided to play with an injured rotator cuff because he was too dumb to say something to anyone.”

Killian playfully rolls his eyes, but she sees his jaw tick. Still such a stubborn ass.

“Anyways,” Emma continues as she reaches up to unclasp the necklace, grabbing onto it and the ring before guiding her hand up to his where they’re still resting on her cheeks. Killian’s blue eyes widen so that she can see every color in them, and they get the slightest bit bluer when she places the ring in his palm and closes his fingers over it. “I was given this really beautiful, special ring so that I had a reminder that someone was cheering me on even when I couldn’t hear the cheers. You had this for a lot of years. I think you might need it back.

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down before he starts shaking his head from side to side, his eyes closed so that black lashes land against his cheeks.

“No, no, no. I’m just…no, Swan. I’m not taking it back.”

“It’s your mom’s ring.”

He opens his eyes then so that she’s consumed by the blue even as he steps away so that they’re no longer touching each other. Has she done something wrong?

“Aye, my love,” he mumbles even as he opens up the chain and wraps it around her, easily clasping it back so that it hangs around her neck once more. “It was my mom’s, but I gave it to you. I’m not taking it back. It’s yours now.” Killian smiles at her, the soft one that makes his eyes crinkle that she’s come to know as her own, before bringing his closed fist to his chest and tapping right over his heart. “I know right here that people are cheering for me. I know that my mom, my family – I know that you are cheering for me no matter what happens out there today.”

Emma’s not crying. She swears that she’s not crying and that the tears in her eyes are allergies or something, but that would be a lie. It would because she loves him a ridiculous amount, and she’s proud of him over everything that he’s done and been working toward lately.

He’s a good man with a good heart, and he deserves all of the world.

Stepping forward, Emma reaches up to tuck his wet hair behind his ear as her thumb traches over the apple of his cheekbone. “I love you, and I don’t care what Liam or Elsa or Addy says. I’m your biggest fan in that stadium today, and I promise I’ll be cheering you on no matter what happens. Tonight, win or lose, you and I are celebrating, okay? We’re going to sit in our pajamas stuffing our face with all of the food that you’ve been stress baking, and we’re going to drink copious amounts of alcohol.”

He arches his brow. “This sounds unhealthy.”

“You’ll have either won or lost the freaking World Series. I think we deserve a little unhealthy.”

“I think you might be right,” Killian chuckles, dipping his head down to slant his lips over hers. “I love you too, by the way. I’m probably going to tell you that a lot today.”

“You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

“I don’t believe that at all.” He winks, and Emma swears that her heart flutters. “I’m going to get dressed, and then we can go to the stadium, okay? I want to get my practice in early in case it does rain again.”

“Yeah, sounds perfect.”

-/-

The stadium is nothing like it was yesterday morning. There’s no empty field that’s covered in morning dew with a quiet air around it that allows someone to simply sit out there and think about the history of this place that’s happened before and the history that’s still to come both for the team and for each individual player and for those who love them. People are bustling everywhere. Vendors are already in their stalls, executives are walking up and down the hallways in their suits, heels clacking along the tile, and players are seemingly everywhere. Emma wasn’t quite expecting anyone to be in the clubhouse, maybe just a few people, but they’re all watching old tapes, eating food, stretching, and bouncing strategy back and forth.

It’s like being thrown into chaos with no hope of getting out, but Emma manages to when Ariel pops up out of nowhere with a bright smile on her face that only broadens the moment she sees Emma.

“Perfect.” Ariel claps together her hands. “Just the couple I was looking for.”

Emma points to herself. “Us?”

“Yep. Things are about to get really crazy today, and I need the two of you to pose for a picture before we forget. It’s just perfect that you’re wearing his jersey.”

“Why do you need a – ”

“Just go with it, Swan,” Killian laughs as he wraps his arm around her waist and tugs her closer so that Emma can rest her hand on Killian’s chest. “When it comes to A, it’s best to obey.”

“That sounds like a great motto.”

“Kind of like a cult, though.”

“Just a little bit.”

“Shut up,” Ariel groans as she lifts her phone in the air. “And smile, I mean. Don’t look like I’m forcing you to do this.”

“But you – ”

Emma doesn’t get to finish her sentence before Killian is squeezing her hip and making her squeal as he brushes his lips against her cheek so that his scruff scratches at her skin like the asshole that he is.

But at least he’s an asshole in a good mood.

“Perfect,” Ariel sighs. “Now, Emma, I need you to come with me.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s about to get even crazier in here, and I’m saving you from the madness.”

Emma doesn’t even get a chance to tell Killian goodbye or good luck before Ariel is dragging her by her forearm out of the clubhouse and down the hallways of the stadium going on and on about everything that’s going to happen today like Emma doesn’t already know. Of course, there are several things that Emma didn’t know. Apparently, her plan for she and Killian to go home and eat junk food and get drunk isn’t really going to happen. He’s got press obligations that far exceed anything that she does, and then there’s usually some kind of team celebration that they all do together. It could be moved to the next day, but that’s usually reserved as an off day before the city does a parade and other celebrations and…

This is only if they win.

Emma points that out, and Ariel immediately corrects her and says “when.” She’s convinced that they’re going to win, and she will not take any other kind of thinking around her. Positive vibes only.

Emma and Killian are totally going home and eating junk food and possibly getting drunk before falling in bed. To sleep. Everything else can wait. And if it can’t, fine. They’ll deal with that and do all of the celebrations and be happy about it because it’s a really big deal, but at some point in the next week, they’re both locking the door, turning off their phones, and then not letting anyone or anything bother them.

Unless it’s the food delivery guy. He can bother them.

But that’s it.

She’s gained approximately ten new wrinkles on her face in the past two weeks, none of them coming from being a year older, and Emma very much needs the season to be over for her own sanity.

Without a doubt, she’ll start to miss baseball in no less than two weeks.

Ariel Fisher, however, lives and breathes baseball and managing baseball players and quite possibly being the most supportive woman on the planet – and that includes Mary Margaret Nolan and her continual positivity – and even if the Yankees sucked, she would somehow cause them to win by her willpower alone.

Emma has known her in a personal capacity for over half a year now, and she’s still not used to all of the never-ending energy. Ariel probably had a full night’s sleep last night. Or maybe she didn’t sleep at all, and she’s in that stage of sleep deprivation where everything is heightened and you’re hyperactive.

Emma would bet on the latter of the two.

But Ariel does eventually finish talking once they’ve made it far away from offices and weight rooms and restaurants up to the suites that Emma is so familiar with now. She’s also familiar with all of the people waiting inside. Killian’s family doesn’t joke around when it comes to baseball. There is no reason for them to be here this early, and yet here they are.

And suddenly Ariel has disappeared, probably off to talk someone else’s ears off.

“That isn’t rain.”

“That most definitely is rain.”

“Anna,” Kris sighs as he and Anna stand at the windows looking out to the field, “that’s rain. It’s this thing that happens when – ”

“I don’t need a science lesson. I need it to stop.”

“I’m pretty sure the entire team is doing some kind of rain prevention dance downstairs because I think we all need it to stop.”

Everyone turns to look at her like they didn’t hear she and Ariel come in.

“Emma,” Lucy shouts, scrambling up from the couch to run toward her and tackle Emma in a hug that’s quickly joined by Addy.

“Hey, girls. Are you guys excited?”

“I’m bored,” Addy sighs out, which is not at all what Emma was expecting.

“Bored? How can you be bored?”

“Because I want the game to start! It’s taking too long, and we’ve been in here forever.”

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” Liam tells Emma as he walks over to her and scoops up his daughter while bending to kiss Emma on the cheek. “But we’ve been very impatient with waiting even though whining isn’t going to speed up the game time.”

“So it’s been a fun morning in your house then?” Emma asks.

Liam rolls his eyes, and even though he and Killian don’t look too much alike, she can see the resemblance there. “Joyous. And from my chat with Killian this morning, I can tell it was about the same at yours with the sleepless night.”

“Well, it is a big day today.”

“Just look up the weather forecast, Anna,” Elsa groans as she moves to rest her head against the countertop. “It’s supposed to rain in the middle of the game. We have known that the entire time, but the sun is literally coming out. It will be dry enough to start play on time.”

Emma arches her brow. “Was Elsa the one not sleeping?”

“Yeah,” Liam mumbles as he adjusts Lucy on his hip, “yeah, she was. She and Addy sat in the living room all night because they couldn’t sleep. I expect them to crash soon.”

“I’m fine,” Elsa promises even as she takes a sip of coffee out of the largest mug Emma has ever seen. “I’m exhausted, but I’m fine. Where in the world did Ariel go?”

“I have no idea. She was here and then she wasn’t. I’m not even sure why she pulled me away from the clubhouse. It’s all been a bit of a blur.”

“Her nickname could be The Blur or something ridiculous like that. She’s always zooming in and out of rooms.”

“How’s Killian?” Anna asks as she steps away from the windows. “Is he freaking out? Has he tried to run away yet?”

Emma’s hand reaches up to toy with her necklace, moving the ring from side to side and choosing not to worry about the weather any more than she already has. “He’s fine. He’s freaking out, but he’s fine. All he needs is for the game to start so he can stop psyching himself out.”

“I want the game to start too,” Addy whines once more as she falls out on the couch and throws her arm over her eyes.

“Darling,” Liam laughs, “have we ever considered that we made her too big of a fan?”

Elsa shrugs. “I don’t think we ever even had a choice.”

Emma stays up in the suite talking and eating cheeseburger sliders and drinking hot chocolate for the next hour, and it’s enough distraction that she doesn’t really think about what’s going on and the nerves radiating deep from her stomach and out to every inch of her. That only really begins when she has to officially start working, leaving the suite to walk to the ESPN booth and get her microphone hooked up to her and prepped for the start of the game. They have her hair curled again, just like she thought, and Isaac and James most definitely eye the jersey she has on. Emma ignores them, even if she does put on her sweater and take the raincoat the network offers her, and leaves the booth to go find the spot they have saved for her behind home plate.

People are filling the stands, a hushed murmur covering the stadium as the sun continues to peek through dark clouds, and Emma’s eyes are stuck on Killian as he continues the last of his pre-game warm-ups.

This exact day last year was one of the craziest days of her life, and she doesn’t think any of it could compare to this.

“You look like you’re going to vomit,” Jeff murmurs as he sets up the protective cover over his camera.

“I kind of feel like I am. Don’t date someone on the team. It’s too much.”

“I think I’m safe in that department.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he laughs, and Emma doesn’t miss the rare smile on Jeff’s face. “You ready to go?”

Emma adjusts her earpiece. “Yeah, I’m ready to go.”

-/-

The Dodgers score on Killian’s first pitch.

A home run right off the bat – literally – and Emma feels the collective groan around the stadium in her bones. That is not what was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be a strike, then two more, and an out. Easy as pie, right?

(Killian would tell her pie isn’t actually easy.)

But that’s obviously not how things are going to go today.

Sports have really got to be a little less dramatic. Her nerves can’t take it. Can’t things just be simple? Can’t they have gone back to the beginning and have won in four straight games instead of losing enough so that they’re in game seven of the World Series?

“If” doesn’t exist, especially in sport, Emma reminds herself. That’s what Killian would tell her, and that’s what she has to remind herself.

It only works a little bit.

One pitch at a time. It’s how Killian is going to be out there, and it’s how Emma is going to be sitting in the stands talking back and forth with the guys up in the booth thinking the same thing. It’s kind of hard to think that, though, when there’s a continual string of near hits and misses and Isaac and James up in the booth won’t stop being so damn negative that it makes Emma want to scream.

The score is 1-0 in the top of the third inning. It’s not the end of the world.

The looming dark sky overhead is kind of making her think that way.

“I’m too nervous, Rubes,” she mumbles while Killian winds up his arm to throw a pitch. There’s two men on base, both due to errors from King. She’d feel petty and a little glad if she didn’t need him to play well for the team. “Tell me about wedding stuff. Distract me.”

There’s static in her earpiece before Ruby’s voice comes in. “We’re getting married on a beach with no clothes on. Don’t worry. We can get waxed on the bachelorette weekend, so we’ll all be as smooth as babies.”

Emma huffs. “You’re not funny.”

“I’m hysterical,” Ruby corrects, and a part of Emma knows that Ruby and Graham might legitimately get married like that. “We haven’t planned any more than what we talked about last week. Small, intimate, and then a killer party with good food and drinks. Finding a location is hard. Everything is so expensive.”

“Destination wedding?”

“How is that cheaper?”

“I’m sure you can find a really inexpensive place in Nebraska or something.”

“You can get married in Central Park for one hundred dollars,” Jeff adds in, and Emma snaps her head away from the game to look at him. He shrugs his shoulders. “What? I know things.”

“I think the one hundred dollars is only if you want to get married in a certain spot, though,” Ruby sighs. “We’re going to keep looking. Graham said that he’d ask some of his buddies at the precinct if they knew of any spaces. It doesn’t have to be pretty since I know Mary Margaret will work her magic to make it that way no matter what.”

Killian’s pitch lands right in Will’s glove, and the umpire calls the batter out. Thank goodness. She doesn’t know what she’d do if someone else got on base. Then they’d be loaded with no outs, and things would pretty much be screwed from here on out.

Emma reaches over into her bucket of popcorn (she bought the jumbo size because she is stress eating) and stuffs a handful into her mouth instead of eating one or two at a time. One piece falls out of her mouth and down her shirt, landing somewhere in her bra so that she has to pick it out.

“You’re on the jumbotron right now, Emma,” Ruby giggles.

“Ah, fuck,” Emma mumbles as she looks up to see there be a replay of her digging in her shirt. “I hate everything.”

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“Me eating is like a running joke this season. I don’t get it.”

And she doesn’t really have time to get it before there’s the thwack of a ball against a bat straight past first base and away from everyone.

Shit.

It’s not good. Not at all. The two runners already on base get home, and the batter manages to make it to second.

It’s 3-0, and this is not at all how today was supposed to go.

Emma’s lungs are doing that thing again where they’re not taking in air, and there’s not enough popcorn in the world to make any of this better. If the tick in Killian’s jaw is any indication, she knows that there’s no one in the world more pissed at what’s happening than him. They don’t have anything together, and if they don’t get it together soon, they’re going to run out of time.

And then the sky opens up, little droplets of rain falling and landing on Emma’s nose, and that saying “when it rains, it pours” seems oddly appropriate right now. Her sadistic sense of humor is about to get worse.

They can’t lose. They can’t. she won’t allow it.

The rain keeps falling, a steady downpour of water, but it’s not enough to call for the rain delay. Not yet. And Killian is able to strike out the next guy and then get the third out of the inning with Eric catching the hit.

And just like the rain, the play stays steady. It’s not spectacular baseball by any means, mostly just a sludge match as everyone tries to keep their hands dry and the water out of their eyes, and the score slowly improves. Lance hits a good ball to get two RBIs, making it 3-2, and they manage not to allow any runs in the top of the fourth inning.

Good.

They’re creating chances. That’s what matters. They’re creating chances, and Emma can continue to eat her soggy popcorn while she freaks the hell out about what’s happening and continues to try to act like she’s a professional and not overly invested in the outcome of this game like she’s got money on it.

It’s the bottom of the fourth inning now, a chant of August’s name moving across the stadium so that it shakes in anticipation, and the bases are loaded. There are also two outs. Emma’s not saying that this could be the thing that changes the momentum of the game, but if the way that she’s gripping onto Jeff’s arm is any indication, she knows that this could change the momentum of the entire World Series.

“Come on, Booth,” Emma yells out as her free hand hits against her thigh, the wet denim clinging to her skin. “Be smart. Watch the ball.”

August obviously doesn’t know how to follow instructions because then it’s a swing and a miss.

Strike one.

There’s no chance for a strike two because while the rain has been sprinkling for the past hour, it’s pouring now. Jeff is mumbling about his camera and the cover not doing enough, but all Emma can focus on is all of the players running inside to the dugouts and fans shuffling inside while an announcement comes over the speakers that there’s an official rain delay.

An hour ago, she would have welcomed it. They didn’t have any of the momentum then. They do now.

This isn’t how things are supposed to be going.

Fuck.

-/-

“So how long is the rain delay going to be?”

“I don’t know.”

“But can you find out?”

“I can’t control the weather, Emma.”

“But you know things that we don’t, David,” Emma groans as she paces back and forth in a tunnel in the stadium, her hair frizzing around her face and her jeans completely soaked through. “It’s been an hour. Are they going to call the game? Are they going to continue it? This is agony.”

“You need to calm down.” Emma looks over to David with raised brows, and he holds his hands up in the air. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to say that to you, but you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you keep worrying like this.”

Everyone they know is going to give themselves a heart attack, apparently.

“I know, I know,” she sighs, reaching up to hold onto her necklace and quieting down as some people pass by the two of them, probably looking at her like she’s a crazy person. “I’m nervous. This is really hard. I just…I want to be allowed into the clubhouse so that I can see him. He’s going to be freaking out. I just know, and I – ”

David walks toward her and places his hands on her shoulders while he looks down at her with a soft, reassuring smile on his face. She’s sure that he would hug her right now if she wasn’t soaking wet.

“Killian is fine, sweetheart. You are fine. We’re in the fourth inning. There’s still five more to go, whether it’s finished today or tomorrow or a week from now. They have time to come back. You, however, need to be back in hair and makeup because you’re supposed to be doing a clip on SportsCenter in fifteen minutes to fill the dead air time.”

“Shit. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

“I couldn’t get a word in. You were kind of having a meltdown.”

Emma practically has to run down the hallways, which doesn’t help her appearance at all, and she’s sure that here makeup is streaky and her hair a wild mess that can’t be tamed, and the entire world can probably see her bra underneath her jersey right now. There’s not a hell of a lot that the makeup department can do, especially without a change of clothes besides a dry raincoat to replace the one that got soaked through, but they try their best before she’s standing in front of a plain backdrop inside the stadium talking back and forth about what’s going on in the game, breaking it down inning by inning in a way that she hasn’t had to do quite some time.

Considering she does it all with last minute notice and no notes in front of her, she thinks that she does a damn good job.

None of that really matters, though, because right as they’re wrapping up the segment, they get the announcement that play will resume in the next twenty minutes.

It’s time to play some more baseball.

Emma shouldn’t have eaten all of that popcorn because her stomach is most definitely churning with nerves.

They can do this. They have to. They will.

-/-

August immediately gets struck out, and the fourth inning ends with the Yankees still down 3-2.

The next two innings are scoreless for both teams, and Killian wraps up his game after that. He played well. It wasn’t his best, the weather and the nerves probably impacting him, but she’s proud of him.

She’ll be proud of him no matter what.

And she really wishes that the network wanted her to do a mid-game interview or let her go into the dugout just so that she could see him and tell him that in person, but they seem to be determined to only allow her to stay on the sidelines by herself.

Emma: I love you, I love you, I love you.

Emma: You’re my favorite player (and person) no matter what, and I can’t wait to see you when this game is over and you’re holding that trophy.

He texts back almost immediately, and he must have his phone out on the massage table.

Killian: Will you go out with me if we win? Or if we lose?

Laughter bubbles up inside of her, and it’s the first time all afternoon that she’s felt this light.

Emma: Only if you ask me out on live television like the asshole you were when you did that last year.

Killian: I think I can do that.

Her stomach flutters again, and even though this is kind of the biggest game that Emma has ever watched in her entire life, her eyes keep switching between her phone and the game. It’s pretty much the only way that she can stay calm and keep getting air into her lungs without one of them collapsing and her having to go to the hospital.

This game is going on forever. Literally. Each inning is longer than the last, and the sun is beginning to set over the horizon so that the remaining gray clouds disappear into the dark of night. Florescent lights fill the stadium, lighting up the crowd and the players, and Emma can’t stop shivering, especially with the remaining dampness of her clothes and the chill that’s whirling around. It’s got to be forty degrees out here at the most, and if it weren’t for Mary Margaret brining down her coat for Emma to use, she’d turn into an icicle by the end of the game.

Probably before the end of the game.

Today is obviously going very well.

It’s not just Emma, though. The crowd is starting to get a little delusional now too. The game has been going on for over six hours now, the last three completely scoreless, and everyone is getting restless and antsy and probably very, very drunk.

Some rum or whiskey or several shots of tequila is sounding really good right now.

She can’t have any of it.

And she’s moved on from popcorn to copious amounts of hot chocolate to keep her warm.

It’s now the bottom of the ninth in what could possibly be the last inning of the game and the end of the season, and they’re still down by one run. It’s almost exactly what happened last night, and Emma’s dentist is going to hate her for how much she’s grinding her teeth.

Just one run to tie it up. One more to win the whole damn thing.

Easy, right? Right.

“Fuck,” Emma mutters underneath her breath, unable to keep the thoughts inside. This cannot end up like last night. They’re so damn close. They can do this.

Eric settles into his position in the batter’s box, his hands moving up and down his bat until they’re in the right spots, and Emma would probably give up her entire salary to know just what Ariel is doing right now up in the suite. She’s got to be losing her mind.

Emma is kind of losing hers.

One. Two. Three.

The ball flies off of Eric’s bat, straight down past third base so that it practically paints the line, and Eric is off like a cheetah, quickly passing over first base and turning so quickly that he nearly falls on his way to second base. Emma stands, unable to stay sitting down, and she can’t even hear herself yell over the roar of the crowd as Eric slides against the dirt to mark up his uniform and have his fingers touch second base right before the ball gets to him.

Safe.

Holy shit. They have a man on base.

And August is up next. God, she hopes that he doesn’t choke again. There’s been a hell of a lot of pressure on his shoulders in the past two days, and he’s crumbled underneath it after having some really big opportunities to close things out. As good as these guys are at playing in the moment, the past does have the ability to creep up around them and wrap around their neck to pull them back to the past so that they can’t move on.

August has to move on.

One. Two. Three.

Strike.

Shit.

One. Two. Three.

Ball.

Okay.

One. Two. Three.

Strike.

Fuck.

Emma cannot do this. She absolutely can’t. It’s too much. It’s all too much, and she has to bend down to put her head between her legs. She knows that her phone is going off, that she’s got texts and calls and emails, but she can’t look at any of them. If it’s something for work, Ruby will speak into her earpiece or Jeff will say something.

This is the worst. Who likes sports? This is just the worst.

One. Two. Three.

The ball thwacks against August’s bat, and it flies toward left field. Emma is positive that it’s going to go over, absolutely positive that it’s going to be a home run and that they’re about to win this game. But then it hits against the wall, and suddenly it’s back in play. It’s not a home run, not quite, but it’s enough to have Eric round third and run toward home, his body barreling as quickly as possible before he’s sliding through the dirt once more so that it flies up around him.

Safe.

3-3.

Holy fucking shit.

Emma can’t hear. She can’t. The crowd is that deafening, and while Emma isn’t jumping up and down, her knuckles are going white as they grip onto the sides of her seat. All she can focus on is the way that Eric runs straight into Killian just outside the dugout, the two of them jumping up and down and hitting each other’s backs and asses as every other member of the team surrounds them in a celebration that sends chills down her spine.

Her cheeks are warm for the first time all night, and Emma has to force down the emotion in her throat.

It’s not over.

But that’s a good thing. They have the chance to do this, to win this now, and Emma’s heart is pumping blood faster than it ever has in the entirety of her life. It may very well beat out of her chest.

She doesn’t even care.

The high comes down five minutes later when King is easily struck out, putting their first out of the inning on the board, and even Emma isn’t petty enough to want Arthur King to do poorly when him doing well is good for the team. She’s petty. Just not petty enough.

Will Scarlet, though, deserves the entire world, and all of the organs in Emma’s stomach shift again when he steps into the box and adjusts his helmet. Sprinkles of rain are falling down from the clouds and spitting against Emma’s skin, but it’s not enough to stop the game. Not yet. The momentum is with them again, the game and the championship on their bats, and Emma has never known Will to be scared of a little rain.

One. Two. Three.

A swing and a miss.

Strike One.

One. Two. Three.

No movement. Deep breath inhaled.

Ball.

One. Two. Three.

No movement.

Strike Two.

“Damn,” Emma mumbles under her breath as she tightens the jacket a little further over her arms, her legs shaking and tapping enough to power the electricity in all of the Bronx. She’s going to break the chain around her neck for how tightly she’s tugging on it. It’s fine. It’s all fine.

It’s got to be all fine.

The water is spitting a little harder now, Emma’s vision getting a little bit blurred, and it’s taking everything in her not to stand up right now so that she blocks the people behind her. Ruby is chattering in her ear cursing or hoping or something, her phone is still going off, and Jeff has to be complaining about how much Emma is crushing his forearm.

She doesn’t care.

Because Will is standing in position again, and he’s ready.

One. Two. Three.

There’s a sharp blow when the ball makes contact with the bat, and while the rain and the stadium lights make it hard to see, Emma already knows that the ball is going over the back wall and into the crowd.

Gone. It’s gone.

It’s freaking gone.

Will Scarlet is an absolute legend.

The Yankees just won the World Series.

Killian just won the World Series.

Everything is so loud around her, cheers reverberating and shaking the stands so that Emma can literally feel sounds, but she has trouble focusing on any of that over the sound of her heart pounding in between her ears and Ruby yelling in her earpiece that Emma has to get down to the field.

The field.

She has to get down to the field, and somehow, she does. Jeff must have carried her there or pushed her or something. It’s a madhouse, one Emma can’t navigate, and she knows that she’s supposed to be doing some kind of interview, preferably with Will, but there’s no way for her to find anyone. It’s a mass of players all huddled together and jumping up and down as coaches and wives and children all join in, the rain coming down even harder than earlier.

All Emma really wants is to find Killian and kiss him like she’s never kissed him before.

That’s saying something.

Emma sees him standing ten feet away from her on the outskirts of a pile of men embracing each other in happiness, his hair a mess like he’s been running his hands through it for the past two hours and his smile so large that it reaches his ears. He looks beautiful, ethereal almost, and Emma can scarcely breathe looking at him after pushing through so many people to find him.

That’s when he sees her through the people and the rain and the unending joy.

Killian pulls his arm up to tap his closed fist over his heart, and Emma’s heart stutters at the movement before a slow grin stretches across her lips while she reaches up to tap her fist over the ring and her heart.

She was cheering him on the entire time.

One. Two. Three.

Emma takes off toward him, ignoring Ruby in her ear and Jeff behind her with the camera, and in six strides, she’s pressing up onto her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, holding onto him so tightly that her feet come off the ground and Killian’s hands scramble for her ass, barely holding onto her as he lifts her in the air and swings her back and forth as they both get covered in the continual downpour of rain.

She can hardly see, the water far too much, and when she cups Killian’s cheeks and slams her mouth into his, he tastes like water and spearmint gum and quite possibly all of the happiness in the world bottled up into one human being.

Kissing him and being here with him is everything she ever wanted and everything she never allowed herself to dream.

“Fancy seeing you here, Swan,” Killian laughs, his mouth still pressing against hers.

“What are you talking about, Jones? I was right here last year.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, the grin the most infectious thing she has ever seen, “but I think I like this year a hell of a lot better.”

“Can’t wait to see how you try to top this next year.”

Killian throws his head back in in laughter, his skin covered in rain, and he finally puts her down on the ground so that her feet sink into the soft grass below her, arms still wrapped around Killian’s neck so that she’s close enough to see the sparkle in his eyes and the smile on his lips.

“You know what, my love? I think I’m good staying right here in this moment for now. We can figure out the rest later.”

-/-

-/-

Tag list: @dorisquinn​ @onepunintendid​ @authorarsinoe​ @stunningswan​ @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury​ @superchocovian​ @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog​ @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings​ @carpedzem​ @tornadoamy​ @397bartonstreet​

[pokemontrashfics]

Could you possibly write something about newly announced champion!reader battling some jerks who were trying to beat up a less experienced trainer for some easy cash? (So newly announced they don't know and think Leon is still the champion. Like who is this kid with an unevolved yamper and scorbunny and ponyt- oh fuck theres a dragapult shit fuck- WHY ARE THEY LV 80+) Also bonus if you could do maybe uhh, hop, leon and raihans sep reacts from the sidelines? Thank you sm! Merry Christmas! ♡♡♡

I’m going to assume the new champion in this case has unevolved Pokemon because they’re in the middle of breeding? Cause that’s when I usually have unevolved pokemon is when I’m leveling up pokemon I’ve been breeding for stats and egg moves.

I had just gotten out of the dynamax den, I was working on a new team for the battle tower and going around for some exp candies when I looked over by the Rolling Fields and saw a much younger trainer surrounded by several other older trainers. I didn’t think anything of it at first, I figured maybe they were helping the younger trainer through the wild area until I heard what they were saying. 

“Come on kid, just battle us, you’re a trainer right?” 

“But… I just started. All my pokemon are only level 7, I can’t fight your level 30 pokemon.” 

“You’d do it if you were a real trainer.” That made me pretty angry, I hate it when people insist there are requirements for being ‘a real trainer’ 

Before I could register what I was doing, I was standing in front of the older trainers 

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair for both of you to take on this single trainer? Why not have a double battle with me and him?” I suggested knowing how this was going to go 

“Go away, kid, this has nothing to do with you.” One of them growled the other one stopped him 

“Hey, don’t. They look pretty weak too, if we beat both of them it’s twice as much money.” I held back a smirk, they must not have seen my match against Leon. 

“You’re on.” I could see how anxious the young trainer beside me was as I let out my pokemon. 

A level 85 Yamper, the two opposing trainers snorted 

“This kid thinks they have what it takes to beat us with a yamper…” I could see how pale they got when they noticed the level. 

“You wanted to battle didn’t you?” I asked “Go on then,” I watched my Yamper bare his teeth and growl. The two men were visibly scared now as they both let out level 35 Pelipper.

It was hardly a battle, I cycled through my whole team, one hit k.o-ing every single one of the opposing pokemon. First my new Yamper and Scorbunny I had just bred, then I started throwing out more and more powerful pokemon. My level 100 Cinderace, my level 95 Dragapult, my level 93 Gyarados and then Zacian who had just reached level 99 a few minutes ago. 

The two opposing trainers stared in shock as I collected my winnings and shared them with the younger trainer.

 I regarded the opposing trainers coldly, “Well? Go on, back to the meetup spot. I’m keeping an eye on you two, try something like this again and you’ll sorely regret it.” My Dragapult growled as they ran back up the hill holding their pokeballs close to their chests. 

I looked at the younger trainer, he couldn’t be older than eight years old? “Are you taking on the gym challenge?” I asked 

“Uh…uh… yeah?” 

“I’ll help you get to Motostoke.” I smiled walking down the hill with him 

“I’ve seen you on t.v.” He said looking up at me 

“Uh-huh.” I said as I reorganized my party pokemon 

“I watched you beat Leon.” 

“You did.” I said as I got out some potions to heal his pokemon 

“So I’m gonna get to the championships and fight you!” I grinned 

“You sure will.” I said patting his head smiling. “Here take some potions, you’ll need them on route 3.”

I didn’t know it at the time, but my rotom phone had recorded the whole thing. When I saw the file later, I decided to send it to Hop, I knew he would love it. I found out several days later, that Hop had shown it to Leon and Riahan and I got texts from them both congratulating and teasing me.

[touchingoldmagic]

Day 9 - The Receptionist

Day 9 of the 30 Day Ghostbusters Challenge!

Author’s Note: This is the comic’verse, which is why the guys have their own apartments and don't live at the firehouse.

5:57 A.M.

She's awake minutes before her alarm is about to go off, reaching over to turn it off as she rises. It's for peace of mind as much as habit--for some reason her apartment bedroom always feels cold and unpleasant if the blaring alarm jolts her out of sleep, and sometimes the closet doorknob clicks and the door eases open just an inch when she stands up, as if she didn't quite catch the latch when she closed it the night before.

She doesn't believe her apartment is haunted; the closet latch has been tricky since she moved in. But she firmly believes in better safe than sorry, and if stopping the alarm before it goes off allows anyone else within hearing range to have a little better attitude in the morning, it's no big trouble to learn to be an early riser.

Especially if it keeps her from having to ask her employers to come by, which would result in at least a quarter of her possessions being set on fire.

6:35 A.M.

Her racquetball partner is late, so she starts warming up on her own. This gym is a friendly one, which is one of the reasons she keeps paying the pricey membership. It isn't long before someone sees her on the court alone and asks if she needs a partner. He's cute, tall and dark-haired, which makes it easy to say yes.

8:30 A.M.

Her key opens the smaller door set in the garage doors of Ghostbusters HQ and she steps through. It smells of motor oil and ozone inside, just as it always does.

At one point they had the lights set to motion-sensors, but someone had cannibalized the device for parts for something else and it hadn't been replaced yet.

She turns on lights as she heads to her desk, leaving the ones upstairs for when the guys get in. Tucking her purse under the desk, she boots up her computer and checks her post-it notes to remind her of the day's priorities.

8:47 A.M.

Egon arrives, pushing the front door open and walking through without looking up from the graphing calculator held in his hand.

"Good morning, Egon!" she calls out to him. He usually arrives before the others. Despite that he's already focused on his work, she enjoys the thought that it'll just be the two of them for a while.

"Good morning, Janine," he responds automatically. He doesn't look up from his calculations as he passes the desk and heads up the stairs, but he pauses briefly when he returns her greeting.

"Turn on the lights so you don't trip!" she calls up after him.

She hears the click of the lights soon after.

9:20 A.M.

Ray and Winston walk in together, deep in conversation. They're both holding bags from the auto store where they prefer getting their car parts, which explains their late arrival.

She doesn't want to interrupt them so she simply waves a greeting, but Ray pipes up a cheerful "Hi, Janine!" without pausing a beat in his conversation. Winston settles for a wave back.

11:17 A.M.

Peter Venkman strolls in, whistling something tunelessly. She doesn't look up from her computer screen, because giving him attention just encourages him and she's hoping to finish the invoice she's working on before he can distract her.

"Janine, this is important, I need to ask you a question. As a woman, I mean. Is it unfair to the other men on the street that this jacket fits me so well?"

She sighs.

12:05 P.M.

She's already set the answering machine and grabbed her purse when a voice from behind her attempts to halt her from leaving.

"Janine, you know, the noon hour is a busy time around here. People call us on their lunch breaks. Would it kill ya to wait until one before you head for lunch?"

"The machine's already on, Dr. Venkman, but if YOU want to watch the phones for thirty minutes, be my guest," she tosses over her shoulder. "If you can tear yourself away from your work, I mean."

Peter turns the page of his magazine and doesn't reply.

12:35 P.M.

When she returns, she automatically checks the answering machine. There's zero messages. She turns around in her seat and gives Peter an expectant look. Wordlessly he stands up, stretches. He leaves his office, dropping a pile of scribbled notes in front of her on his way to the stairs.

She almost feels a moment's surprise and appreciation before she squints at the pile and realizes his handwriting is almost illegible. She scowls.

He CAN write more legibly. She knows it. She has seen him give his number to clients before. Well, so be it. As if she hadn't gotten skilled at reading his scrawl over the years. She doesn't demand to know what the chicken scratch is that covers her desk. She won't give him the satisfaction.

2:39 P.M.

The firehouse is quiet when the guys are out on a call, but never silent. The computer and the overhead lights hum with electricity. Sometimes the painting of Vigo in the corner mutters to itself, though it mostly stopped speaking to them over a year ago. Sometimes there's a subtle vibration in the floor, if there's a big experiment running upstairs.

The air itself sometimes seems to hum at a frequency almost beyond her hearing, and when she asked Ray about it, he theorized that she could feel the presence of the hundreds of unhappy ghosts trapped in the containment unit downstairs.

She forgot it's usually not a good idea to ask Ray these things.

When the guys return, it's the sound of the electric garage door opener that alerts her. She continues with her typing as Ecto stops and the engine cuts off with a low growl. The driver door opens first. Winston climbs out from behind the wheel, at the same time Ray opens the front passenger door. Neither of them are talking, which is unusual. She stops what she's doing.

One of the back doors opens and Peter climbs out. He's not talking either. The other door doesn't open. She stands up.

Peter holds up his hands as she comes around from behind her desk. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Janine," he says. "He took a header off a landing and brained himself on the overhang. Paramedics say he's fine, just rattled his marbles."

Winston's the one who opens the rear driver's side door. Egon emerges, slow and unsteady, a white gauze square on his left temple and a bandage wrapped around his head that made him look like an injured cartoon character. It might have been comical if she wasn't picturing his body sprawled at the bottom of a stairway like a dropped doll.

5:45 P.M.

It's past the time that she usually leaves, but that's what always happens when one of them gets injured. She can't help it, even when there's nothing for her to do. Especially when there's nothing for her to do.

She pokes around the firehouse, making sure dishes are out of the sink, old coffee is poured out, things left on tables are put away. It doesn't take the degree on the wall of Peter's office to tell her it's because her feelings of helplessness at times like this are almost enough to drive her crazy. She's not fussing. That's for old ladies. She's making sure things are covered. That's her job.

"Egon, are you sure you're all right?" she asks.

"I'm fine," he says shortly, impatience and pain adding a bite to the words that she isn't offended by.

She would take him at his word, but he's been on the couch in the lab for at least forty-five minutes. His heavy-lidded expression under the gauze wrap makes him look like someone caught halfway between exhaustion and a migraine that won't let them rest.

"Well, if there's anything you need..." She lets the offer dangle in the air, and he acknowledges her with a curt nod but doesn't say anything else.

Peter, normally one to keep out of the lab, is searching for some paperwork in one of the filing cabinets in the corner.

6:15 P.M.

Finally Peter drives her off with the threat of not approving her overtime hours unless she leaves. She says goodbye on her way downstairs. It's hard to feel annoyed about the late hour when all four of the guys are still present when she leaves, with no sign of heading home themselves.

Not a one of us has been very good at separating our personal lives from this place, she muses to herself as she locks the front door behind her.

9:30 P.M.

She checks the closet door to make sure it's fully closed and latched before she climbs into bed for the night, so it won't be tempted to swing open on her. Her apartment is not haunted, but Mama Melnitz didn't raise a fool.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.2

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve takes a risk and the guys go out on a “date”. Master list HERE

Content Warning: first “date” cuteness, making out 

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Today is one of those days where I am eternally grateful for having a “draft” option. Because honestly, ya girl is exhausted. So yay for drafts! Enjoy chapter two. I’m honestly too tired to give ya’ll a better note right now. :-\   XOXO - Ash

Chapter Two

Steeeeve [9:32:08PM]: Hey, it’s Steve.

Bucky Barnes [9:32:47PM]: hi steve

Steeeeve [9:33:15PM]: I had a lot of fun meeting up today.

Bucky Barnes [9:33:39PM]: me 2

Steve huffed staring at Bucky’s second generic response. He was usually so much more lively. Steve took a long sigh and started texting what he needed to get off his chest.

Steeeeve [9:35:21PM]: I’m sorry if I came off as confused or misleading. 

Steeeeve [9:35:26PM]: I didn’t mean to do that. But I am kind of confused right now. 

Steeeeve [9:35:35PM]: I spent so much time liking the idea of you, and you in real life was even more amazing than I could have expected. But I’ve never dated a guy before and I never expected to want to. And now I think I do. 

Steeeeve [9:35:49PM]: I’m sorry. This probably isn’t any less confusing. I’m apparently really bad at this lol. I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you go out on a maybe-date with me? I want to try and see how I feel. I don’t want to string you on, but I want to try.

Bucky stared at the flurry of texts coming into his phone. Damn, serial texter much? He read and re-read Steve texts a few times, chewing nervously his bottom lip, trying to find a response. He wasn’t willing to let his heart get trample on again, not after Brock. But he really liked Steve and if there was a chance Steve might like him too, it was too good to pass up. He had a distinct feeling he was going to regret it, but he tapped out the only honest response he could think of.

Bucky Barnes [9:44:13PM]: i like u 2 steve. i get that ur confused. lets try ur maybe-date and see how it goes? if it goes well cool, if not no hard feelings. k?

Steeeeve [9:45:20PM]: Thank you. Really, thank you for being so great about this. Can we get dinner one night this week? 

Bucky Barnes [9:45:55PM]: im free any nite but tues

Steeeeve [9:46:10PM]: I can do Friday night around 7. There’s a really great Mexican place a few blocks over from the gym if you’re willing to schelp all the way over to Park Slope. 

Bucky Barnes [9:46:31PM]: sounds good. see u then

Bucky sighed, putting his phone away into the pocket of his favorite old hoodie. He had a date. A maybe-date, but for some reason that felt good enough for him at the moment.

xxXxx

Steve discovered the best part of being able to text Bucky wasn’t just that their chatting was no longer limited to when they were both near a computer, but that they now had a full range of emojis, memes, and GIFs at their disposal. He could now send Bucky random funny things he found during the day and he felt a little proud when Bucky would send back a string of laughing emojis, knowing he had brightened the other man’s day a little. He had worried with their maybe-date looming things might be a little awkward but if anything they were going even better. By the time Friday came Steve was genuinely looking forward to their maybe-date. He had even gone out on Wednesday before his shift at the gym to pick up a set of clothes that were distinctly not gym wear. He couldn’t remember the last time he bought a button up shirt but he had to admit the blue and white checked shirt looked nice on him. He was trying not to stress over the maybe-date but he felt this gnawing need to know, definitively, if he was truly interested in Bucky, or just the fantasy of WinterBae. 

Steve raced home Friday to shower and change, hoping he’d left himself enough time to do all that and still make it over to Los Aztecas in time. Taking the time to slick back his hair and do a quick shave, Steve was hustling out the door only to realize he’d forgotten the bottle of wine once he got outside. After a fast double back for the wine he was on his way, making it to the tiny authentic Mexican restaurant with three minutes to spare. He had barely stopped walking when he saw Bucky hopping out of an uber. Steve felt a little flutter at the sight of Bucky and he took it as a good sign. 

Bucky looked amazing in his dark skinny jeans and a silky looking black shirt. A minimalist necklace was around his throat, the simple bar resting just below the wings of his collarbones. Steve noticed Bucky had swapped out the cheery beaded bracelets he’d worn on Sunday for a set of sleek silver and leather ones. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine and Steve felt ridiculous in what Sam had teased was his bible salesman outfit. 

“Heya.” Bucky greeted warmly, extending an arm for a half hug.

“Hey,” Steve echoed, hugging back with his free hand. “Ready for the best Mexican food of your life?” 

“Definitely, let’s go.” 

Steve led Bucky inside the little restaurant, its cozy decor making the place feel intimate instead of cramped. Steve had called ahead for reservations so they were whisked off to a table as soon as he gave the concierge his name. Bucky was looking around fascinated, taking in all the colorful decorations. 

“It’s really something, huh?” Steve prompted with a smile.

Bucky nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s beautiful. So much art packed into so little space. Thanks for bringing me here, Steve.” 

“It’s one of my favorite places in the area, mostly for the tacos but also for the art. I got my degree in fine art before I switched gears and went back to get certified in exercise science.” 

“That’s quite a switch.” Bucky laughed.

“Art will always be my first love, but it’s not exactly profitable. And once I got healthier I knew I wanted to help other people do the same. I was really sick as a kid and didn’t hit any major growth spurts until I was almost 21. After that, I worked out a lot getting used to my new body and fell in love with the gym.” 

“Wow. I’m glad you were able to get healthier, and it’s sweet you’re trying to give back to others with that.” 

“Do you go to a gym? I won’t be offended that it’s a competitor, I swear.”  

Bucky barked out a laugh, “No. God, no. I am perfectly happy with not having abs or a totally flat stomach as long as waffles exist.” 

Steve couldn’t help his eyes dropping to Bucky’s stomach which honestly couldn’t have had more than the smallest layer of padding across it. “That’s okay too. Waffles are pretty great.” 

The waitress stopped by to uncork their wine and drop off a basket of fresh tortilla chips and salsa verde. 

“What did you bring?” Bucky asked as he took the glass of white wine Steve had poured him.

“Albariño. A waitress here recommended it a few years ago and now it’s my go to. It’s light and crisp, and kinda citrusy? I’m not a wine snob but it’s damn good and goes really well with tacos. I hope you like white wine, I forgot to ask.” 

“I’ve yet to meet a white wine I didn’t like, so you’re safe.” Bucky sipped the wine and his eyes lit up, “Oh yeah, this is good. I’ll be hunting this down next time I go shopping.” 

“You can get it over at the little wine boutique near the farmers market in Sunset Park. They always have this kind.”

“Nice, I’ll have to check it out. My sister will love this the next time she visits.” 

The conversation flowed as the basket of tortilla chips disappeared, only ebbing when their platters arrived and they tucked into their food. Steve had ordered his usual taco platter while Bucky opted for the taquitos platter, an assortment of slow roasted meats wrapped in thin crispy shells. He let out a groan at his first bite that had Steve’s heart stuttering in his chest. The maybe-date had mostly felt like a friend-date up until that point, though Steve had to admit there was a tiny flutter of like there too. But the noise Bucky made and the expression on his face had Steve thinking anything but friends only thoughts. 

Bucky caught Steve staring at him as he licked a dribble of sauce off his bottom lip. He hadn’t gotten a distinct date-date vibe from Steve but the look on the blonde’s face was priceless. Bucky thought he probably had made a similar one the first time he saw Devon Sawa in Wild America when he was 12. He had never stood a chance of being straight after that. Testing the waters a little bit, Bucky smirked at Steve, making it abundantly clear he’d been caught staring. Steve flushed and Bucky’s smile widened. There might be hope after all.

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the wine or too many tacos but by the time dinner was over he felt glued to his seat. He hated knowing the evening was coming to an end and wanted to do something, anything, to prolong it. The waitress dropped off the sales receipt with a pen and Steve tried to steady his hand as he signed his name. He knew he needed to muster up his courage or he would be saying goodbye to Bucky in mere minutes.

“Thanks again for paying.” Bucky said after draining the last of his wine, “This was really nice.” 

“It was.” Steve agreed, seeing his chance, “You know, I have another bottle of this wine back at my place if you wanna come over for a bit. Maybe you could help me find that movie app you were telling me about for the Fire Stick?”

“Sure, I’m happy to help. I won’t say no to more of that wine either.” Bucky stamped down the hopeful cheering in his chest that Steve was inviting him over. The poor guy probably didn’t mean that anything would happen other than wine and tech help but Bucky could always dream. He would be respectful though, he resolved to himself. He’d never dated a guy who was questioning his sexuality before and Bucky didn’t want to push too far too soon. Bucky figured it was best to let Steve set the pace and just hope his heart didn’t get run over in the process. 

Steve’s apartment was only four blocks from the restaurant, a second floor walk up in an old converted brownstone. It was nicer than Bucky’s little hole in the wall apartment and even had a small second bedroom that Steve had set up as a home office. After giving Bucky a quick tour, he led them to the kitchen to pull another bottle of Albariño out of his cabinet. Passing a stemless glass to Bucky, he poured them both a generous amount of wine which they carried out to the living room so Bucky could show Steve the app he’d mentioned during dinner. A few clicks and a quick download later, Steve had access to a ridiculous amount of free movies. 

“This is so great.” Steve praised, clicking through the different options. “Oh I love this one!”

“Hm?” Bucky looked up from his glass to see Steve hovering over 10 Things I Hate About You. “Oh that one is great. I remember wanting to be Patrick Verona when I grew up after seeing that.” 

Steve gave an amused side eyed look at Bucky. “I think you did a decent job.” he teased, throwing on the movie out of sheer impulse.

Bucky laughed, “You’re sweet. But god knows I’ll never be that smooth.” 

“You’re better off than me. I’ve been told I’m hopeless on more than one occasion.” 

“You hold your own, Rogers.” Bucky assured him, reaching over to take Steve’s hand in his, stroking the pad of his thumb over the ridges of Steve’s knuckles. 

Steve blinked slowly, looking from their joined hands up to Bucky’s face. It felt good, that fluttery feeling stirring in his gut at the contact. He gave Bucky a smile and squeezed his hand gently, making sure his consent was clear.

The movie rolled and they sipped their wine as Patrick did his best to woo Kat. Bucky slowly nudged closer to Steve until he was pressed against his side, his head leaning against Steve’s shoulder. He was warm and comfortable and completely unwilling to move by the time Letters to Cleo played into the credits. 

“I can’t believe it’s after eleven already.” Steve yawned. 

Bucky yawned next, set off by Steve’s. “Same. I had a really good night, Steve.” He looked up curiously, wondering if Steve had found any new revelations on their maybe-date. 

“Me too. This was… really nice. Hey, um, I know this was a maybe-date, but maybe um…”

Bucky shifted so he could sit up taller and face Steve while he fumbled for words.

“I, um, I’d really like to kiss you right now.” Steve blurted out, looking equal parts excited and terrified. 

Bucky’s smile was like the sun. “Okay, yeah.” Bucky reached out to cup Steve’s cheek, going agonizingly slow to give Steve a chance to bolt if he needed it. He leaned up a little and Steve craned his neck down, tentatively meeting Bucky’s lips with his own. 

A soft press, a pause, another soft press, and then the kiss deepened, Bucky’s lips parting to slot Steve’s with his. Steve let out a choked off moan, unable to believe what he was doing and how good it felt. He let a hand rake through Bucky’s hair and it only made him want to feel more of the silky locks. The scent of cedar and teak from his cologne filled Steve’s nose and though it was very distinctly male, Steve couldn’t get enough of it. It was so much more than he could have expected but also not nearly enough. He was breathing raggedly when he finally pulled back, repressing a shudder at the well kissed expression on Bucky’s face. His full bottom lip was shining and red, his eyes heavy lidded and his chest heaving just as much as Steve’s. 

“Whoa.” Steve finally breathed out in amazement.

“Yeah, whoa.” Bucky agreed. “So does this help in sorting out if this was a date-date?”

“I think it was definitely a date-date.” 

“I’m glad. And do you think you’d want to try another date sometime?”

“When are you free next?” Steve chuckled, only half kidding. 

“Easy there, pal.” Bucky warned lightly, patting Steve’s ridiculously broad chest. “We’ll find a day again soon.” 

Steve nodded, knowing Bucky was right for wanting to take things slow. He led Bucky over to the door, giving him one last quick kiss goodbye before the brunette headed out into the early summer night. Steve was still floored by his own reactions to Bucky but it felt so right that he couldn’t agonize over it for long. 

[kutemouse]

Hi! I just found your blog, and i'm in love with it. I would like to request from fluffy prompt 35+36 please with jin!

Well, what a coincidence, because I am in love with YOU kutie anon!! <3 Anyways, here is the imagine I dreamt up when hit with these prompts. Sorry it is so LONG (as usual) but in order to do these prompts justice, it is what it is. Hope you like <3

Fluff prompt #35: Can I keep this? It smells like you.

Fluff prompt #36: Please don’t cry. I can’t stand you crying.

Disclaimers: I found this gif on Pinterest, so it’s obviously not mine. Spiderman belongs to Sony, who has made a deal with Marvel/Disney to be used in their films, just in case y’all didn’t know.

Age Recommendation: 18+

Warnings: Swears, childhood romance, mentions of making love, Jin making me pop all the UwU’s and melting me into a puddle of fluffy goo.

Word Count: 2,968

Summary: You decided to spend your summer at your grandparents’ place where you used to spend summers during your childhood. The place is filled with so many memories, some good, some bad, but all containing him.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Always Loved You (Jin One-Shot, Fluff)

I couldn’t flip the pages fast enough. Currently, I was laying on a beach chair I’d dragged out to the edge of the lake, soaking up some sun while reading a trashy romance novel. The main character had finally confessed their love to the main love interest, and things were getting interesting.

“Y/n!” I ignored whoever was calling me.

“Y/N!”

“What?!” I hollered back, ripping off my sunglasses in annoyance.

“I need you to go to town! We need groceries for dinner tonight!”

I stood up, grumbling, pulling down my swimsuit that had started riding up my ass and gathering up my bag and towel. So much for a relaxing afternoon.

Still, I guess I was here for more than just a vacation. It was summer, and I’d just graduated from university. When everyone who attended my graduation party asked what I was going to do with my fancy new degree, I shrugged and gave some vague, non-committal answer. I had no job prospects lined up, not even an internship. I knew what I wanted to do with my degree, but no idea how to get there.

Sick of people asking me about it, I finally found something to do with my summer. I would go live with my grandparents and help them out. Truthfully, that was kind of a lie in itself. Sure, I’d help with whatever my grandpa and grandma needed, but mostly I was here to get some space and figure out what to do with the rest of my life. My impromptu trip got my parents off my back, at least.

I breathed in the warm, fresh air one last time before going inside to change. I loved it here. Back when I was in grade school, I used to come here for entire summers with my parents. Between the sun and the lake, I was constantly begging to come back here. I wondered when that changed… probably some time in high school, when I started getting busy with friends and parties. “I’m leaving now!” I called out to my grandma, scooping up the list she left for me on the coffee table.

“Thank you!”

I stepped outside and began the walk to the mini-mart down the road, relishing in the way my skin warmed in the sun once more. I hardly passed a single person, let alone a single car. That’s part of the charm here… no nosy neighbors or pesky so-called friends trying to get into your business and tell you what to do. Everything had a good distance between it, allowing for solitude and that small-town feel. I loved that it took a twenty minute walk to get to the busiest part of town, which was still nothing when compared to the crowded streets of the city.

A smile spread over my face as I passed a small park I remembered playing in as a kid.

“Tag, you’re it!” I shrieked before running away as fast as I could.

He growled and took off after me, causing me to squeal and run faster, giggling like mad. I ran up the steps of the jungle gym until I reached the very tippy, top. Oh no, he was coming! He grinned as he cornered me, but I had one escape left. I slid down the slide, still laughing as my bum hit the ground, got up, and started running. I didn’t make it far, though.

WAM! My feet tangled up and I ended up on the ground. “Ouch,” I gasped, looking at my hands. They had tiny cuts all over them, and my knee was scraped.

He reached me and pushed me hard in the shoulder. “TAG!” he screamed, but his smile faded when he saw me crying.

“Y/n, what happened?” he said, leaning down and examining my knee with large, brown eyes.

“I tripped,” I sniffled.

“Oh, don’t cry. I trip all the time. I even carry band-aides around just in case. See?”

I perked up a little when he pulled a bandage out of his pocket. He smiled at me as he peeled off the backing and stuck it on my knee. “It’s Spiderman,” I giggled.

He grinned at me. “He’s my favorite.”

The boy suddenly leaned down and placed a kiss on top of the bandage. “There. All better.”

He pulled me up and we continued our game of tag, shrieking and laughing even louder, if that was possible.

I blinked away the memory, realizing I’d stopped and was staring at the playground. God, I hadn’t thought about him in forever. How long’s it been? I wonder if he still lives around here… or even if he remembers me.

Our moms were best friends back in the day, and every time my family came here, we’d always spend the most time together. He was the only kid my age we knew around here, so he became my best friend. As we grew up, we went from sending each other hand-drawn pictures in the mail to full-on letters, then to emailing, then texting, then video calling.

One day, my laptop beeped, indicating I was getting a video chat, and I nearly declined it before seeing it was him. I quickly wiped my tears away with a tissue and blew my nose before answering the call. “Hey,” I said, giving the camera a watery smile.

“Hey! It’s been forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I keep meaning to call you but I’ve just been so busy.”

I sniffed, and he frowned, leaning closer to his screen. “Are you crying?”

“N-No,” I stuttered.

He gave me an amused smile. “Y/n, come on. You know you can’t lie to me.”

I choked out a laugh. “Alright, fine. Yes, I was crying, it’s stupid, just some guy being an ass as usual…”

I watched as he reached out a hand and leaned his camera even closer to his handsome face, concern etched all over his features, those brown eyes shining in what little light there was. “Please don’t cry, y/n. You know I can’t stand you crying.”

I nodded and laughed a bit more. “I know. I promise, it’s over with that guy. I won’t be wasting any more tears on him.”

He smiled at me. “Good.”

Lost in thought, I kept walking down the road, my tennis shoes scuffing along the pavement as I absentmindedly kicked stray rocks. I wonder if he ever thinks about me. Probably not. Last I heard, he too went to university somewhere in a far-off city. He was probably making a living for himself, his career prospects endless… probably dating someone too. Might even be married by now.

I huffed out a sigh as I reached the mini-mart. I stepped inside and grabbed a basket before pulling out my grandma’s list, muttering as I read it out loud to myself. “Y/n?”

That voice… it couldn’t be. No freaking way. I whirled around. “Jin?”

His face split into a wide grin. “It is you! What are you doing here?”

“J-Jin,” I stuttered, still not comprehending that the tall, handsome guy I was just reminiscing about was actually here.

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s me. It’s been what, six, seven years?”

“Something like that.” I could hardly breath. He looked only slightly older than what I remember. His hair was darker and pushed away from his face to reveal his forehead, but the rest of him was the same. The same easy smile. The same toned, wide shoulders. That melodic voice. Another memory suddenly forced its way into my mind, one that I’d been trying to push away since I got here.

The soft light of 6am caused my eyes to flutter open. A fresh, cool breeze danced across my bare skin, causing me to shiver and slide my arms back under the covers, cuddling close to the warm body next to me. I suddenly shot up. “Oh God, we’ve been out all night,” I groaned.

Jin sat up as well, chuckling. “It’s okay. Just tell your parents you were with me. They’ll understand.”

Oh hell. His voice was deep and husky from lack of use, and I felt myself melting into a puddle as he spoke.

Without warning, I leaned over and pressed my lips against his. He kissed me back eagerly for a few minutes before squeezing my waist, causing us to break apart as I gasped. “Listen,” he murmured, trailing his lips across my bare shoulder. “We should be getting back.”

“No, just a few more minutes,” I said, pulling him in again.

Jin indulged me for only a few seconds more, wrapping his soft lips around mine in a way that made my head spin. After an entire summer of flirting and driving each other crazy, we finally gave in and ended up kissing each other after Jin drove us out here to watch the stars. Before I knew it, we were in the back of his truck making love. He was my first. I always knew he would be. It was just a matter of getting us to cross the line between friends and lovers.

He pulled away from me. “Seriously, y/n, our parents are going to murder us as it is,” he laughed. “And… you’re leaving today. You’ve got to go pack.”

My heart dropped. I knew he was right. When would we see each other again? Jin began pulling his clothes back on, and I did the same. He grabbed his jacket and was just about to shrug it on when I tugged it away.

“Hey!” he protested, playfully grabbing for it back.

I buried my face in the jean fabric, inhaling deeply. It still smelled like him, musky with a hint of spicy cologne. “Can I keep this?” I asked suddenly. “It… It smells like you.”

Jin smiled. “Sure.”

“Y/n?”

I blinked, looked back up at Jin. “Yeah, sorry. I was just-”

“Lost down memory lane?” he said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

“Y-Yeah.”

I still had that jacket somewhere. I’d kept it wrapped in a plastic bag so, whenever I grew lonely or sad, I could pull it out and inhale his scent. I’d even fallen asleep a few times with my head buried in it, making myself feel better as memories of Jin wafted through my mind.

“I find myself doing that too,” Jin murmured, bringing me back to the present.

I never went back to my grandparents’ after that, finding myself too wrapped up in school, friends, and other boyfriends to bother. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself. Maybe the real reason I stayed away is because I didn’t want to find out Jin had been doing the same. Living his life… without me.

I tightened my grasp on my basket. “Um, I’ve got… I’ve got some shopping to do.”

“Oh, right. Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”

“Do you want to shop together?” I blurted out, noticing his mostly-empty basket.

Jin turned back around, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Sure.”

We walked down the aisles in silence, picking out the groceries we needed as we went. “I can’t believe you’re here,” I finally said. “I thought you went to university.”

“I did,” he replied. “But I graduated recently, and I came back to see my family for a summer before heading back to Seoul.”

“Oh. Did you get a job?”

“Nope. I’m trying to become a doctor, so I need to go back to school for a few more years.”

“Nice,” I murmured.

“What about you? Why are you here?”

I sighed. “To visit my grandparents. Help them out.”

Jin stopped, grabbing something off a shelf, tossing me a knowing smile. “Come on, y/n, I know you. Why are you really here?”

I scoffed. “What do you mean? That is why I’m here.”

Jin stepped close, causing my breath to hitch in my throat. I caught a whiff of that oh-so-familiar scent and felt my legs turning to jelly as he leaned down so our eyes were level. “Are you sure?” he said, grinning.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not here for you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s not what I was implying,” he said, chuckling. “But good to know.”

“Besides, you’ve probably got some girlfriend back in the city,” I muttered, turning away to grab something off a shelf.

“No, actually.”

“Really? The cocky, handsome Jin can’t sway them city girls?” I teased.

He shook his head. “Oh, that’s definitely not it. I could have any girl I wanted back there.”

Jin suddenly grabbed my basket away from me, causing me to whirl around. He stepped close, and I backed up until I could go no further, my shoulders pressed against the shelves. “The problem was me. I didn’t want any of them,” he murmured.

My lungs stopped working as his lips hovered dangerously close to mine, my eyes growing wide as our breaths intermingled. Jin drew back, laughing. “You should’ve seen your face,” he snorted.

“Fuck off,” I snapped, grabbing my basket back and striding down the aisle away from him.

He followed after me, his windshield-wiper laugh still echoing throughout the store. “Awww, come on, y/n. It was a joke.”

“Well it wasn’t funny.”

“Why not? What, you got a boyfriend that wouldn’t appreciate me flirting with his girl or something?”

His tone was nonchalant, but I sensed some tentativeness in the question. “No,” I replied firmly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Jin looked down at me, his brown eyes bright as he smiled. “Good.”

I scoffed once more and headed over to the cashier, placing my basket down on the checkout belt. Jin placed his behind mine, and when I got out my wallet to pay, he placed a large hand over mine. “I’ll pay for both,” he told the cashier.

I didn’t say anything until we got outside, both of us weighed down with shopping bags. “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” I scolded.

Jin chuckled. “A ‘thank you’ would suffice, you know.”

I marched up to him. “Just because you’re some big shot doctor now-”

“I’m not a doctor yet, y/n.”

“Whatever. Just because you think you can-”

He cut me off once more by grabbing my bags and loading them in the back of a truck. I stared at the gray vehicle, my mouth dropping open. It was the same truck. The place where I’d lost my virginity all those years ago.

I shook my head, bringing myself back down to reality. “What’re you doing?”

Jin shut the trunk door. “Giving you a ride. Now come on, stubborn, get in.”

I scoffed, but got in on the passenger side nonetheless. Everything looked the same, but different. Rather than a Spiderman lanyard hanging from the mirror, a few graduation tassels hung there instead. The truck was cleaner than I remember. No fast food cups littered the floor, but a couple half-empty water bottles were in the cup holders.

But it was the smell that got to me. That musk with a hint of spice… exactly like I remember. My body relaxed as Jin started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, the same way I’d relax when holding onto his jacket back home.

It didn’t take too long to reach my grandparents’. Jini pulled in the driveway and shut the engine off, but neither of us moved. Jin stared at me, but I didn’t say anything, uncomfortably biting my lip and staring at the dashboard. “Y/n,” he murmured, causing me to look at him. I half-wished I hadn’t. His eyes were filled with that same look he gave me that night we kissed and made love, wide and perfectly brown.

“Why didn’t you come back after that summer?”

There it was. The question I’d been asking myself since I got here. I twisted my hands in my lap nervously. “Because… Because…”

“Tell me,” he said softly.

I pressed my lips together before releasing a loud sigh. “Because I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Of you moving on.”

Jin shook his head, chuckling. “Are you serious?”

I slowly nodded.

“Y/n, I couldn’t move on even if I wanted to. I loved you. I still… love you.”

My mouth parted open in surprise at his confession. “You do?”

Jin smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I tried to move on when I realized you weren’t coming back, I really did, but you were always in the back of my mind. Y/n, I’ve loved you since we were kids.”

I bit my lip, taking only a second to process before I unbuckled my seat belt and launched myself at him. Our lips pressed together, melding into the sweetest kiss I didn’t realize I missed with every fiber of my being. Jin wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, angling his jaw to deepen the kiss, and I threw my arms around his neck, trying in vain to draw him even closer.

We pulled apart, and I smiled as I took in Jin’s blown pupils, his lips reddening from being pressed to mine, his breath coming out in short gasps. “I love you, y/n,” he murmured. “I’ve always loved you.”

My smile grew. “I love you too, Jin.”

We continued kissing for what felt like forever before he pulled back, laughing and saying we needed to get the groceries inside. We unloaded the truck with the biggest grins, holding hands as we walked up to the house.

As I looked at Jin, the sun glinting off his dark locks, his smile lighting up my whole world, I found myself thinking that maybe there was a reason none of my relationships worked out. Maybe there was a reason I hadn’t found any opportunities coming my way after I graduated. And maybe, just maybe, I was exactly where I needed to be.

[pietrotheavenger]

learn to love

chapter 4 - perfect start

summary: steve and y/n don’t get along. now, they have to.

pairings: au!steve rogers x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of death

a/n: i just need a sugar daddy... so badly... princess polly if you’re reading this, please sponsor me

series masterlist

steve’s family had money. there was no other way to put it. in new york, he was a decently successful artist and lived comfortably, but in boston, he was disgustingly rich. y/n gaped at the beautiful and gigantic house that sat at the end of a long driveway. neatly trimmed hedges lined the sides and she could even see a proper garden in the distance. in front of the house was a fountain acting as a roundabout with several expensive cars parked nearby.

“you have a whole ass fountain in front of your house,” she deadpanned.

“yes,” he nodded his head.

“okay. glad we’re on the same page.”

when he got close to the other cars, he simply put the jeep in park, and turned it off. “alright, let’s grab our bags and head in?” he was looking straight into her soul with his insanely blue and intense eyes. his head was tilted to the side, like a puppy, with his lips slightly pouted.

she swallowed, hard. she was starting to feel nervous. “let’s do this.”

he grabbed her hand from her lap and gave it a squeeze. “remember, it all starts here, my lovely girlfriend.” he gave her a genuine smile and it made her heart flutter.

“laying it on thick, now, my beautiful boyfriend?” she pulled her hand away and averted her gaze to take her seatbelt off. she propped the door open as she awaited a response. she looked back at him.

“hey,” he said softly as he grabbed her hand again. he pressed a kiss to her knuckle, “anything to convince my parents,” he grinned cheekily.

“you are a tool, steven grant rogers,” she rolled her eyes, stepping out of the car.

he insisted on carrying her bag into the house, despite her protests.

“i am able bodied enough to carry my own bag in!”

“sweetheart, we used to go to the gym together. you can’t bench for shit.”

“what am i benching, steve? what am i benching? give me the goddamn bag.”

“let me be chivalrous. my family knows that i treat a dame like a queen.”

“dame? god, the air in massachusetts be hitting differently.”

“shut up.”

and with that they had arrived at the front door of the house. he simply swung it open and walked in. the foyer of the house was beautiful. the first thing her eyes settled on was the massive grand staircase. the cherry wood banister curved upwards to the second story. the floor was all marble and expensive looking paintings adorned the walls, as well as a family portrait above the entry table to the right. steve had the goofiest smile, and was dressed in a royal blue sweater. she grinned to herself as she examined the portrait for a moment before turning her attention back to the rest of the house. looking straight into the back of the house, she could see a glass door that led to a patio.

”hello?” he called out. his voice echoed around the house. jazz music floated from somewhere inside the house. she tightened her grip on her purse as they ventured further in. he dropped the bags at the base of the stairs before grabbing her hand. he laced their fingers together as they continued forward. the jazz music grew louder as they ventured deeper into the house. she sidestepped closer to him. she felt more secure when she was closer to him. his house was intimidating. he noticed, and his chest bloomed as he inconspicuously pulled her closer to him.

the house opened up into a large space. there was a living room to their right and a beautiful kitchen to the left. humming along to the music was a blonde woman in the kitchen. she was cutting vegetables. she wore a red apron with small white polka dots. her hair was clipped away from her face with a brown baratte. on one of the couches in the living room, were two lumps under blankets. she could just see the headphones that one of them was wearing while the other ate from a bowl of chips and watched the tv at a low volume. y/n shivered. the ac made the house very cold. she was used to her broken ac sputtering cold air out once every ten minutes as she suffered in the heat. “you good, baby?” steve raised an eyebrow in question. she nodded.

just then, the woman in the kitchen looked up. her face split into one that mirrored his. “stevie!” she exclaimed. she maneuvered around the island and gave him a hug. he dropped y/n’s hand to hug her back.

“hi, ma,” he sighed, squeezing her.

a chorus of “steve!” was heard from the couch as two more bounded over. y/n guessed that girl was sophia and the boy was sawyer. steve was right about sawyer looking eerily like him, aside from his curly hair. when he pulled away from his mom, he was attacked by his siblings. y/n took that moment to introduce herself to his mom.

“hi, mrs. rogers, i’m y/n. it’s so nice to finally meet you,” she smiled politely. inside her head, she was panicking. were they supposed to hug? shake hands?

his mom pulled her in for a brief but warm hug. “oh, you’re steve’s girlfriend!”

“yes, i am,” she laughed.

by then, sophia and sawyer had finished their siege on steve. the older boy had his arm around the younger one and the girl stood with a hand on her hip as she slapped steve’s bicep with a quite a bit of strength. he laughed it off.

“y/n, this is sophia and sawyer, and that’s my mom,” he pointed to his mother.

“hey sophia, hi sawyer. it’s great to meet you guys! steve’s told me a lot about his family,” y/n put on her best ‘girl-next-door,’ ‘perfect-daughter,’ and ‘nice-customer-service-rep,’ voice as she spoke.

“we can’t say the same! steve’s hardly said a peep about his girlfriend,” mrs. rogers crossed her arms over her chest and looked at steve pointedly.

“c’mon ma, i didn’t wanna jinx things,” he replied. he pushed sawyer. “where’s your girlfriend?”

the younger brother rolled his eyes and scoffed, “fuck off!”

“language,” steve and his mom chimed at the same time.

“that’s so funny,” y/n began. he reached for her hand and pulled her closer to him. he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and placed her hand on his chest and held it there. “you have such a sailors mouth and here you are, bossing your little brother around,” she continued teasing him as he pulled her into his arms.

“exactly!” sawyer gasped exasperatedly. “mom never believes me when i say you swear.”

“because i don’t!” steve responded, in the same tone. he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

steve is really laying it on thick, y/n thought.

“you do!” sawyer yelled back.

“alright, buddy-” steve began but was cut off.

“god, can you guys shut up! steve’s been home for two minutes and you’re back on your bullshit!” sophia groaned. she flicked her ponytail over her shoulder.

“language!” steve, sawyer, and mrs. rogers called at the same time.

“there’s no winning with this family,” sophia looked y/n in the eye as she spoke. steve, sophia, and sawyer all had the same blue sparkling eyes. they didn’t get it from their mother. she had stormy grey eyes. but they did get their beautiful blond hair color from her.

“steve, your dad and simon are out in the back. why don’t you take y/n out to meet them?” mrs. rogers offered.

“you down, babe?” he looked down at her.

“always down for anything,” she responded, patting his chest and pulling away. his arm dropped from her shoulders. he picked her hand up and tucked it into his pocket. “you’re so weird,” she laughed.

“it’s so nice to see stevie all loved up,” his mom looked warmly at her eldest son. “now, go. i’m already sick of your fighting,” she ruffled sawyer’s curls.

“let’s go, darling,” steve sang as he pulled her towards the sliding glass door.

they walked out onto the patio and y/n sucked in a breath at the sight of his backyard. there was a basketball hoop just to the left of the patio on an approximately 35 by 35 square of concrete. further off, there was a swimming pool with a lounge area to the right. beyond that, was just grass. she thought she saw a soccer goal but she wasn’t sure. out by the pool, steve’s dad and simon chased the dog around. the dog gleefully barked.

“remember, babe, the dog is rosie, not sophia,” steve said to her, quietly.

“noted,” she whispered back.

with their hands still woven together, they got off the patio and approached the pool. steve swung their hands back in forth. she suppressed a school-girl-like giggle.

“hi, dad!” steve waved. simon and their dad turned at the same time.

“steve!” simon yelled as he hurtled himself toward steve. the dog began barking louder and mr. rogers walked over more calmly than his son just had.

simon threw himself onto his older brother. he was less muscular than steve, but still had a lean figure. his eyes were a kaleidoscope of colors, a mix of blues and greens and browns. his hair was dark brown and just as curly as sawyer’s. “WE’RE BACK IN BUSINESS, MOTHERFUCKERS!” simon yelled to the sky.

“language!” mr. rogers chided.

“hi, mr. rogers, i’m y/n. it’s a pleasure to meet you,” she extended her hand to him.

he shook her hand and smiled as he said, “call me joe!” his blue eyes glittered in the sunlight. that’s where they got it from. his hair was dark brown and curly, speckled with grey hairs. “it’s great meeting you, too.”

“dad!” steve exclaimed, pulling him into the hug.

she laughed to herself, letting the scene unfold in front of her.

steve then introduced his brother and father to y/n before his mother called them all in. “why don’t you two get settled in? freshen up and then come down for lunch.”

so that's what they did. steve grabbed the bags from where he has dropped them and led her up the stairs to his room. his room itself was pretty simple. a whole wall was covered with shelves. the shelves were overflowing with various books, plants, and knickknacks. his bed was shoved up in a corner, made with grey bedding. a huge window took up another wall. in the corner of the room, y/n spotted a guitar. a bureau, a bedside table, and a desk completed his room.

“i didn’t know you could read,” she mused, picking up a book. she ran her fingers over the cover.

he rolled his eyes. “you’re a piece of shit.”

“and you’re an asshole,” she countered. right when she thought he was being sweet, he goes and says that. she should’ve known better. a leopard can’t change its spots. she was naive for thinking that he could ever be affectionate towards her.

she kicked her shoes off before pulling her pants off and getting into bed. she pulled the covers up. “wake me up when you’re done in the bathroom,” she grumbled, closing her eyes.

“why are you acting like that?” he sighed, spreading his arms out. he could feel the irritation rolling off of her in waves.

her eyes flew open. “acting like what?”

“a whiny little bitch!”

she sat up, rather abruptly. steve flinched, but she didn’t notice. “bitch, i’ll kill you. leave me alone for twenty fucking minutes or i’ll lose my shit. you’re getting on my nerves,” she growled before turning over in bed and snuggling into the covers.

he scratched the back of his head. they were off to a perfect start.

infinity tags:

@ssweet-empowerment ; @stardustandbucky ; @abuckyrogersworld ; @freightcarcap ; @c-a-v-a-l-r-y ; @coffeebooksandfandom ; @somethingmoreclever ; @2dreamcatcher8 ; @illegalportkey ; @fuckthatfeeling ; @xxashy999xx ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @tuliptx ; @wwhitewwolff ; @thisismysecrethappyplace ; @appreciating-chase-brody ; @renanyx ; @maladaptive-ninja-returns ; @marvelrose ; @sophiealiice ; @dreamsfollowed99 ; @galacticstxrdust ; @fitzsimmons-is-forever ; @dumblani ;

learn to love tags:

@youunravelme ; @thebutterflyxx ; @cailin-lefantasy ; @thatoneslytherinbeater ; @i-padfootblack-things ; @clockworkherondale ; @cap-owns-my-ass ; @clean-and-claire ; @tits-out-for-cevans ;