#unfortunately forces himself to put his own worries and stuff to the side

[arvoze]

you don;t get to learn about this one either (you will). if i tell you this thing is about death and murder you would have to trust me

[saetoru]

underground fighter wriothesley who absolutely melts whenever you patch him up n place the softest kisses over his bruises n stuff :((

- 🦋 anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ WE, NOT I — WRIOTHESLEY.

contents. underground fighter! wriothesley, gn! reader (he gifts you flowers, perfume and a necklace though, so if that is fem! coded to you, there’s your warning), mentions of foster care and being orphaned (wriothesley), mentions of blood, bruises, and injuries (wriothesley), slight angst but overall fluff ending

money’s tight—has been for a while, actually. wriothesley doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to open up even though he knows you won’t think any less of him. but you notice the small things, always do.

it’s the way you buy groceries for two, the way he’s always over for dinner one way or another, the way he seems to spend more and more time at your place than his. money’s tight, even if he doesn’t like to admit it—and you could never force it out of him, but you think letting him stay with you while he can could help ease the burden of living even if a little.

he’s grateful—a little roundabout in the ways he shows it, but grateful all the same.

and then the presents start to come.

it’s small at first: those expensive macarons you like from that bakery, the bouquet of roses that couldn’t be cheap, a nice dinner he insists he can pay for every once in a while. and then it starts to get bigger: fancy tea from the side of town neither of you even think about shopping at, perfume from a brand you can’t even pronounce, a necklace that’s more than what you can afford yourself.

it starts out slow, and then all at once, wriothesley has what you imagine to be more money than he knows what to do with. because why else spoil you like this? why else blow money on things for you when he could be putting it towards himself?

not everyone gets to have a head start at life—wriothesley is proof of that. it’s hard, more than most people realize, to be orphaned so young and move through foster home after foster home. he’d gone to jail once too—he doesn’t talk about that either, and you never ask. it’s hard, more than anyone gives him credit for, to be knocked down by life so many times and make a living for yourself.

you can’t understand where the sudden change comes from, can’t pinpoint where along the line he started getting so comfortable. it’s not unwelcome, you would never want to watch him just barely scrap by, but it concerns you how he seems to have so much all at once.

and then you get your answer.

“what—what happened to you?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing the blood caked by his nose and around his knuckles. that’s the best of it, unfortunately—the gashes on his chest and the bruises somehow look even worse.

you’d consider him lucky that his ribs don’t seem cracked.

“just a fight,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes. wriothesley is a lot of things: resourceful, conniving at times, and braver than most. good at lying is not one of them, however—at least not with you. “just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“where were you, then?” you challenge, staring at him hard enough that he doesn’t have to meet your eyes to shuffle uncomfortably in his spot. he doesn’t answer. you’re almost fed up. “wriothesley,” you say in a warning tone.

there’s a sense of finality he doesn’t like.

“what happened to wrio, sweetheart? you’re killin’ me here, i come home to you all bruised up and you’re here beating me down harder—”

“wriothesley, i’m worried about you,” you whisper tiredly. it’s defeated—it’s almost helpless. he frowns, finally looking up at you from his place between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter.

“you don’t have to be,” he mumbles, “i can take care on my own. i always have.”

“there’s no being on your own when we’re together,” you shake your head. your hands fall to either side of your body, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “don’t you understand? neither of us is supposed to be on our own anymore—not when the other is here.”

“yeah,” he crosses his arms—you try to ignore the wince he lets out as he moves, “and now you’re not handling things on your own anymore. i’m carrying my weight. just need to fight a guy or two.”

“you’re carrying your weight by fighting?” you blink at the realization. he doesn’t look you in your eyes, keeping them trained on the floor again. “oh my god—is that what these are from? because….because you’re fighting some punks in the middle of the night? that’s illegal—and you could get in trouble again—”

he doesn’t seem to like being reminded of his past. that’s clear when he clicks his teeth and glares at you. “and what am i supposed to do, stay cooped up in your place and eat your food?” he asks bitterly, making your brows furrow.

“not necessarily, but you can—”

“what, so i just live paycheck to paycheck and shower at your place and sleep in your bed so my water and electricity bills aren’t too high for the month?”

“wrio—”

“i’m earning, aren’t i? what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is this,” you wave your hand exasperatedly, tears welling up by the lash line of your eyes as you stare at his bruises with trembling lips, “look at you. it’s not worth it if you come back to me like this.”

“but i come back,” he mumbles, taking your hand—he kisses the knuckles, rubs a rough thumb over the smooth skin before laying your palm against his cheek and sighing. “i always come back.”

you love wriothesley—have since the day you met him, you think. he’s easy to fall for like that, to feel your stomach go in twists and knots every time he makes a sarcastic joke and throws you a charming smile. life has been tough on the man you love, unfairly so. it’s hit him harder and harder and pushed him back to his knees before he ever got a chance to fully stand up.

he’s hitting back, now. maybe in a more literal sense than you’d hoped, but….but maybe you can help him if you can’t change him. maybe you can keep the pieces together until the plaster holds and they’re not so fragile anymore.

“i don’t like seeing you hurt,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the broken skin on his cheekbone, “you don’t have to do all this. we were doing okay before that.”

we. he shudders at that. it’s always we and never i—even when you did all the heavy lifting. even when he was barely getting by and you were giving more than you should’ve had to, more than he should’ve needed. it’s always we. never i.

you and him.

“i know,” he melts, humming as your fingers thread into his tousled hair, scratching his scalp as he buries his face into your neck, “just let me save a bit more. and then i’ll do something real with myself. i promise.”

you pull away after a bit, taking in every bruise and every cut, every dry patch of blood and swollen patch of skin. it’s shaky at first, your voice when you finally speak.

“‘s all bruised,” you say quietly, running a finger over the marks littering his chest. he’s painfully still—doesn’t move a muscle as you lean in slowly and press a kiss to the purplish stain on his skin, gently trailing them to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. “you don’t deserve all this.”

“yeah?” he chuckles—its breathy, a little strained. your arms loop around his waist and bring him closer, “what a sweet thing,” he coos, “nobody ever treats me so gentle.”

you frown at that. the world is not gentle with wriothesley—you’ll have to be extra gentle to make up for it.

“you’ll be safe? you’ll pull out when it’s too much, right? and you’ll come back? without being too hurt, right? wrio, you can’t—”

“yeah, yeah, i got it,” he huffs, pressing his forehead to yours, letting your hands cup his cheeks. he leans closer to your touch, shudders as you slowly trace his cheek with your thumb, “just wait at home all pretty for me, yeah? i’ll bring you back something nice.”

“bring me back yourself in once piece,” you huff.

“done,” he smiles, “i’m strong, if you haven’t noticed.”

“yeah? explain this,” you challenge, pressing down on a bruise and making him wince.

“you should see the other guy,” he whines, burying his face back into your neck. you roll your eyes, there’s a scoff in your throat but a smile on your lips.

wriothesley is safe—for now, that’s all you can ask for.

“i love you,” you mumble, “so much. no matter what, okay?”

“no need to get so emotional on me, baby,” he chuckles—and then there’s a tightening of strong arms around your body, a kiss pressed delicately to your neck before a soft, “but i love you too” is murmured into your skin.

“i hope you’re ready to clean those cuts. they’ll sting for sure,” you grumble as you pull away. he grins—handsome, charming, yours.

“will you kiss them better?” he bats his lashes, making you snort.

“no.”

i might make this a reoccurring drabble series too idk yet. anyway you know what else he can beat up ?? this pussy ;)

[siriannatan]

Solutions to Insomnia - Scott fWhip

My quest to drag S1 fWhip through terrible situations with a comfort Scott on the since continues, it would seem…

fWhip could not sleep at all. Not an unusual occurrence. He became known for skipping sleep. Staying up later than healthy. Yawning and falling asleep in weird places. It became so normal even his closest allies, family stopped worrying. Just a fWhip thing, he'll be fine.

The only person who seemed to hate it was... fWhip himself.

He stared at the ceiling. Unable to sleep. Vaguely aware it was nearly midnight... So much for going to bed early. He stared at the ceiling and thought back to the worst moments of his accursed insomnia.  When and why he chopped his hair off and is still refusing to let anyone fix the mess it is. Not like anyone expects him to be put together in any way. Not like his allies cared if he was doing okay. They would just leave him sleeping in their meeting room and not even tell his advisors where he was. Sending all of Grimlands into a panic.

But that was two weeks ago. Things were fine even if Gem was still unhappy with the whole Rivendell alliance and fWhip's arranged marriage to the younger prince. But that was fWhip's business. And Sausage and Pearl voted yes. And it wasn't like he was anything special himself. No half-dragon. No wizard. No Pearl.

Just plain, normal fWhip with only his brain and a bad knee. Totally useless without his crossbow and explosives. Not like he could have any good ideas that did not involve explosives.

He sighed, turning to his side for what felt like the millionth time that night. Why can't he just sleep normally? Why did he have that unplanned nap earlier, after running one last time over this year's plan to get the heating in town for the upcoming winter.

fWhip was about to go and find something to read or do until he passed out when there was a knock on his balcony door. He was not expecting any guests tonight. None of his allies would come to him with any issues. With a yawn and heavy, exhausted steps fWhip walked up to the window. Not bothering with the lone robe tossed over a chair.

To his shock, on his balcony was none other than his fiance Scott of Rivendell. Looking at it all like he didn't just fly all the way from Rivendell. Which he had to have done to get to Grimlands before any note made it. If one was sent at all which it should. "Oh... Hello... I apologize if I woke you up..." the elf chuckled as always oozing confidence.

"I wasn't sleeping anyway..." fWhip shrugged totally not sure what to do with Scott. "I won't have angry elven military knocking on my door looking for you tomorrow?" he asked to start with. Just to be sure and let Scott inside. It was slowly getting chilly in Grimlands.

"No, no, I told my parents I want to visit you... Since we're supposed to get married and stuff..." Scott clarified, looking about the dark room. "I kind of underestimated how long it'd take to get here, I was not counting on making it for dinner but still not this late..." he chuckled nervously. Looking briefly at fWhip's messy bed.

fWhip hummed and nodded along. Forcing his brain to try and think if any guest rooms are ready at all and ready enough to house his future husband. Unfortunately, he rarely had guests. "Unfortunately I didn't have any guests lately so I'm afraid my guest rooms aren't quite suitable..." he sighed, messing his already messy hair even further. He couldn't even offer to give Scott his own bed in it's current state.

Scott just chuckled. "I don't mind sharing if you don't. We are supposed to get married, eventually," he hummed, shooting fWhip a smirk that could only be described as flirty. "We don't have to tell my brother, he'd flip over something as simple as just sleeping in the same bed," he added, still looking over in a very flirty manner.

"I'm afraid I'd make for a terrible bed mate." fWhip chuckled regretfully.

"Why so?" Scott asked with a raised eyebrow. His short coat was already off and hung over a chair.

fWhip chewed the words in his mouth for a second. "Insomnia. I have trouble falling asleep and sleeping," he said, deciding Scott should know ahead of time. 

The elf just giggled. A very nice sound to fWhip's exhausted brain. "Have you tried sharing a bed with anyone? It could help, let your brain relax, knowing you're not alone?" he offered, with another of his many layers being removed.

At this point, fWhip was ready to try anything to finally sleep well so he just shrugged and agreed. He could deal with consequences if anyone found them too early. And offered to loan Scott something to sleep in. The elf 'forgot' to pack anything. fWhip guessed he just wanted to leave the palace in Rivendell. Luckily at least some of fWhip's sleep clothes fit the elf. Why must Scott be so tall?

Once they were in bed, Scott wasted no time cuddling up to fWhip. He was cold but not unpleasantly. More like comfortably chilly. fWhip could quickly feel himself drifting away as Scott chattered about helping him fix his hair as he played with it. He just hummed along as he slowly fell asleep in Scott's arms. Probably his best sleep in a long time...

If he didn't have THE dream. A red sheep looking at him with big, black eyes. Unblinking. With nothing but an endless shallow sea of blood and red fog rolling about. Dark grey sky with no clouds or sun. Blood Sheep, words came to his mind on their own. Technically the main god of Grimlands...

fWhip could not move or do anything other than hold the Sheep's stare. It felt like an eternity and like just a few seconds at once when She let out an echoing 'baaa'. And the vision was over. And fWhip woke up. 

He was still in his bedroom. Still in Scott's arms. The sun has long risen. And fWhip felt rested like he never did. Weirdly thirsty...

[natedogx15]

A Sudden Alliance (Creative Writing Class Short Story)

During the night of a city covered in misty fog, a young man is relaxing at the counter of a convenience store.

The young man is in his late teens with a skinny build, light skin, and black hair with short sides and back while slightly longer on the top. They have freckles across the middle of their face, between their eyes and nose.

The young man wears a long-sleeve dark blue shirt, grey, slightly worn-out jeans, and black and white sneakers.

The young man had a bored look on his face as he watched the clock in the store tick by to signal the passing seconds. When the young man sees the clock hit 10:48, he looks under the counter to see his black hoodie is still there. He then reaches inside the hoodie's pouch to feel two items.

"Good, they're still there." The young man says with a relieved sigh before he grabs the hoodie and puts it on.

The young man then grabs a paper bag and walks around the store, collecting various items from the shelves and putting them inside his bag. After finishing, the young man leaves the store and locks the doors.

With a yawn, the young man starts to walk down the street, covered under a blanket of darkness and stars mixed with the streets enveloped in mist.

"What are you going to do, Sam? You got an eviction notice to leave your apartment, and you can't return to those toxic people. You need to come up with something or else." The now-named Sam randomly starts talking to himself as he casually walks down the street in the dead of night.

Despite the darkness and fog, Sam's movements lack hesitation or worry as he strides through the empty streets. It seemed like he didn't have a care in the world as he passed fire hydrants, street lamps, and the alleys running along the sidewalk.

 Unfortunately, it seems like there is a reason for him to worry as he suddenly finds himself confronted by a group of people.

The people that have taken to unexpectedly meeting up with him are a group of three males that look around his age to a couple of years older. When Sam gets a good look at them, he doesn't seem intimidated, more annoyed than anything else.

The group of three looks like a group of teens trying too hard to pull off a 'cool' look. They have slicked-back hair, leather jackets, and punk boots. One of them was even wearing sunglasses while under the starry night sky.

"Sunglasses, you're really wearing sunglasses at night?" Sam can't help but ask in a flat, almost bored tone as he looks at the guy directly in front of him with the same calm expression, albeit slightly surprised.

"Trust me. I wouldn't actually be wearing these stupid things right now unless I needed them. I ended up running into a damn wall earlier." The guy grunts in annoyance while adjusting the sunglasses that he apparently needs to wear.

Sam raises an eyebrow at that, curious about what he means since he can't think of any conditions that need someone to wear sunglasses while it's night. However, he isn't left with much time to contemplate as one of the other guys tries to take his grab. The key word is 'try.' When he pulls on the bag, it doesn't stray far from Sam's person.

It's not that the item doesn't budge at all. It's more so that Sam isn't letting go of it and keeping a firm grip with only one hand despite his arm getting pulled on. Even then, if someone were to look closely, they may notice that it doesn't seem like Sam is exuding a lot of force of his own.

"Give us the damn bag." The guy trying to take Sam's stuff snaps at them when he realizes he can't take the bag from Sam.

"No, you probably don't want this stuff anyway since they're nearing the expiration dates," Sam tells them as he pulls his arm back, causing the man to stumble forward from the surprising amount of force Sam used.

That action causes the other two to pull out weapons and threaten Sam. Sam raises his arms in surrender and backs up slightly to look at the three.

"Look, I've had a long day and had to cover a few of my coworkers' shifts. I don't want any trouble. I just want to get home and enjoy what's left of my day before I head back to work tomorrow. Can't we all just settle this without violence like sensible adults?" Sam imploringly asks them as he backs away a little more.

The guy in front of him shakes their head and begins to stalk toward Sam with an angered expression.

"You're either giving us the bag, the key to your work, and your wallet, or you're not leaving." The man tells him as he walks towards Sam with the knife ready.

Sam lets out a frustrated sigh when the man says this and thinks to himself.

"I really don't want to have to do this."

Sam tightens his knuckles and bites his lip in nervousness as the three converge on him. However, the two sides freeze when they hear the sound of a can landing on the ground near them. They instinctively looked towards the side for what made the sound and saw a gas grenade.

"What the-" One of the three questions before the grenade releases navy blue-colored smoke.

"I am the hope that shines in the darkness." A smooth male voice states, causing the group of three to look around in a slight panic.

However, the guy with glasses calms down quickly and gains an angered expression.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." They mutter as they move to take off their sunglasses.

"I am the bolt that strikes down any evil." The voice continues, seeming to grow louder.

Sam is the second one to recover from their shock and quickly does something unexpected. Instead of running, he seems to move toward the guy on the left of the person taking off their glasses.

"I am Crossbow!" The person exclaims as out from the smoke appears a young male about Sam's age wearing a midnight blue form-fitting body suit with padding in areas such as the knuckles, chest, and legs, navy blue boots that reach just below the knees, and a navy blue domino mask.

The young man has light skin, short blond hair, and grey eyes behind his mask. He had a pretty athletic build.

On the chest of the young man's suit is a navy blue cross symbol, and over their shoulder is a navy blue quiver filled with bolts painted midnight blue. To go with their quiver, the weapon that matches the name they introduced themselves as is in their left hand.

The hero quickly shoots a bolt into the foot of the man on the right of the guy that took his glasses off while Sam punches the other one in the face. Surprisingly, Sam's punch sends the man flying slightly despite looking like it didn't pack much power. The man that had taken off his glasses doesn't know that his friend on the left is unconscious, though, since his back is turned toward Sam to focus on Crossbow with closed eyes.

"Don't move," Crossbow warns the man with a smirk as he aims his namesake at the man.

The man grunts in annoyance as he turns his head toward where he hears Crossbow's voice and opens his eyes. Suddenly, red beams shoot out of the man's eyes toward Crossbow. Crossbow can't avoid them due to shock and takes a direct blow, causing him to get sent flying backward and drop his weapon.

The man quickly closes his eyes and then puts his sunglasses on with a grim expression as he glares at the downed hero.

"You shouldn't have tried to play the hero. That crap didn't work before people started getting superpowers. What made you think it would work now that people are starting to gain them?" The man asks Crossbow before he feels someone wrap an arm around their neck and place a hand on their head to keep them looking up.

Sam keeps his arm wrapped around the guy's neck as he tries to take away their oxygen intake while using his other hand to keep their eyes pointed toward the starry sky. The man tries to rip Sam's arm off with all his strength but to no avail. As they struggle, the guy's sunglasses are knocked loose, and one eye begins to fire off a beam towards the sky before they slowly close their eyes from losing consciousness due to lack of oxygen.

After feeling the guy go numb in his arms, Sam loosens his grip on the man's throat and head before stopping altogether when he realizes they're unconscious. Sam then quickly lays them out and checks their pulse. When he feels a heartbeat, he releases a sigh of relief.

Sam then rushes to the man he had punched and inspects their body. They have a nasty bruise on their face where Sam hit them, but Sam doesn't see any permanent damage to the man. With another breath filled with relief, Sam stands up from where he is crouched to check on them.

Sam's attention then turns towards the person that had tried to help him against these three. He runs up to the sprawled Crossbow and checks on them. However, to Sam's shock, Crossbow sits up, looking completely fine despite the attack and burn marks on his abdomen.

"O-oh, okay, you're alive. How are you okay?" Sam jumps back in shock when Crossbow sits up, obviously shaken at the revelation that the person in front of him is fine.

"Because the costume is more than just for show and actually protects me. I was planning on attacking the guy when his guard was down before you decided to choke him out." Crossbow snaps at Sam with some bite in his tone.

Sam does not know how to respond to them at this point.

"Sorry?" Sam finally says as if he's asking if he should apologize to them.

"Whatever, glad you're okay. I'm annoyed that my debut as a hero went so bad, though." Crossbow grunts in annoyance as he stands up and picks up his weapon.

Crossbow then walks back towards the alley he popped out of and comes back with some rope to tie the three up.

"Well, thanks for the help. Sorry that it didn't go so well." Sam apologizes once again before going to grab the bag he dropped when he went to punch the first guy.

"No, no, no. Not so fast." Crossbow tells Sam as he prepares to tie up the man that could shoot laser beams from his eyes.

"What?" Sam asks him in confusion.

"You're not just going to leave after that display. You're a Knight, aren't you?"

Knight. It's a modern term used to describe someone with powers. In today's society, a percent of the world's population gained superpowers due to an organization centered on human evolution developing a chemical that awakened something within the latent D.N.A. of some people and spreading it across the world. It came about when a group of power users sacrificed their lives to help evacuate a city during a tsunami. Their sacrifice sparked other power users to join the first responders or try to make a name for themselves as vigilantes. The term eventually spread to people who wield powers as a whole, despite some deciding to use their abilities to commit crimes or not wanting to use their strengths.

Sam immediately shakes his head at Crossbow's question.

"No, I'm not a Knight. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going home." Sam tells Crossbow as he quickly grabs his bag and rushes down the street.

Unfortunately for Sam, in his haste to gain distance from the young man, he doesn't bother to pay attention to his surroundings. It costs him as while he's running across a crosswalk, a truck whose driver can't see due to the mist obscuring their vision comes barreling down the road and hits him with a sickening squelch.

Crossbow looks at the scene in horror before dropping the rope he is holding and rushing toward Sam and the truck. He sees the truck start to slow down, and the driver jumps out to check on the front of it. However, he watches as the truck driver freezes in shock, horror, and disgust after seeing the result of the truck's meeting with Sam.

The reaction causes Crossbow to cringe and slow down. However, this worry intensifies when he watches the man's face turn green and slowly back away in fear. As they do, they cover their ears before running away. That reaction causes Crossbow to freeze altogether. However, it's only for a moment before he steels himself and slowly moves toward the front of the truck. As he gets close, he starts to hear strange sounds. It sounds as if bones are popping and cracking, mixed with groans and cries from a person. In a way, it sounds like a chiropractor working on someone's body.

The sounds pique Crossbow's interest, and he moves closer to the front of the truck, albeit slowly. When he finally has a view of the front, he's about ready to follow after the truck driver.

On the ground in front of the truck is Sam's bloody corpse. However, something implausible to normal eyes is happening to it. It's as though the corpse was reviving itself. Bones sticking out of the skin were retracting, putting any dislocated or broken body parts back into place while also fixing the cracks along them. The muscle tissue and skin seem to grow from the chunks on the body and run along the newly reformed skeleton, holding the reattached and healed bones in place. After what feels like hours, despite it actually being minutes, the damage to the body is fully healed. The only signs that would let people know of Sam's accident are the blood on the ground surrounding him and covering some of his body, Sam's tattered and blood-soaked clothes, crushed convenience store merchandise, the dent in the truck, and the sobbing sound that Sam is making. The whole scene looked like a scene from an Egyptian mummy movie where the mummy starts to regain their human appearance.

Cautiously, Crossbow slides his foot on the ground towards Sam, resting one hand on his weapon as he approaches the sobbing young man. He reaches toward Sam with his free hand and attempts to rest his hand on their shoulder. However, when Sam feels Crossbow's hand touch his shoulder, they act almost instinctively and throw a wild back-handed swing towards Crossbow.

Crossbow manages to avoid the swing by backing away in time. As soon as Sam sees Crossbow back up, he starts sprinting off the ground away from them.

"Hey!" Crossbow shouts towards Sam before chasing after them.

Crossbow tries to keep up with Sam, but it isn't just their strength and ability to heal that's superhuman. Sam's speed is in league with a top-class sprinter, making it difficult for Crossbow to keep up, let alone gain on them.

"Holy crap, he's fast." Crossbow thinks to himself as he continues to chase after Sam.

It's not just their speed. Sam's stamina is incredible as well. As the two of them run down the city blocks, it seems as though Crossbow is the only one getting tired from the constant exercise. Because of this, Sam starts to gain distance from Crossbow, and it only takes a few seconds for him to get out of the range of Crossbow's sight. The situation deters Crossbow slightly, but he continues trying to catch up with Sam. After a few minutes, however, he stops to catch his breath.

"Crap, how does he do that? I ran cross country and track in high school." Crossbow asks himself as he takes several deep breaths.

However, while trying to regain his breath, he notices droplets of blood on the sidewalk next to an old apartment complex. Crossbow crouches down slightly to get a better look at the blood and sees that it's fresh.

"Well, that's lucky," Crossbow mutters to himself as he looks towards the apartment complex, assuming that Sam lives somewhere inside it.

He decides to investigate and walks toward the apartment complex. Crossbow takes a few minutes to inspect the floor of the complex walkways for any more droplets of blood that would give him a clue as to where Sam is. He doesn't seem to need the droplets of blood, though, since he sees a door caved in after a few seconds of searching.

Remembering Sam's earlier reaction when he touched them, Crossbow cautiously moves towards the broken door with a hand on his crossbow again. They slowly move near it and take a peek inside the apartment to see if they can spot Sam.

He sees that it's a small semi-furnished studio apartment with brown flooring, a small black table with matching chairs, a blue single-person bed, and a kitchen area with a white counter and brown coverts. Near the kitchen is a white door that Crossbow assumes leads to a bathroom. On the bed are what's left of Sam's clothes.

Crossbow pulls his namesake off his hip and raises it toward the roof like a police officer holding a pistol as he cautiously enters the apartment that he assumes the person he's been chasing owns.

"Hey, uh, guy. Are you here? I never really got your name, so I don't know how to call out to you right now. It's Crossbow. The guy that helped you out and ended up chasing after you. I'm sorry about that. You just really shocked me with how you regenerated and then attacked me when I tried to check on you. Anyway, I wanted to be sure that you were okay and managed to find you because of some blood drops on the sidewalk. If you're here, could you come out? I'm not here to hurt you or anything." Crossbow says in not quite a shout but still rather loudly as he looks around the apartment.

Crossbow notices a piece of paper on the kitchen counter and sees they're an eviction notice. The bathroom door cracks open slightly, and Sam peeks out.

"I would feel safer if you put that on the counter then," Sam tells Crossbow.

Crossbow slowly sets the weapon on the counter next to the eviction papers and looks at Sam with his hands raised to show he's unarmed.

"Alright, I'm unarmed. Not that I think it would help me against you anyway." Crossbow tells him.

Slowly, Sam opens the door to reveal he's wearing a long-sleeve black shirt and grey sweatpants.

"What do you want?" Sam asks with narrowed eyes as he looks at the hero.

"I just wanted to check on you if we're being honest. I uh can see that you're about to be evicted." Crossbow tells him awkwardly while looking at the eviction papers on the counter near his weapon.

"Yeah, I have to leave at the end of the week." Sam bluntly tells Crossbow while glaring at them.

"Anyway, are you okay? You went a little crazy after what happened and swung at me." Crossbow tells him, and Sam releases a heavy sigh.

"Yeah, I'm calming down. Sorry about that, but I can still feel pain when healing and didn't feel like being touched after that." Sam tells them while rubbing a hand on the fabric of his shirt.

"Sorry about that, then." Crossbow apologizes.

"It's fine. Can you go away now?" Sam requests while motioning towards the broken door.

"Wait, I think I can help you with your housing situation," Crossbow quickly tells them.

Sam looks puzzled at his words or why he's willing to help him with his situation.

"Look, I could use some help with this whole superhero thing. If you become my partner as a vigilante, I'll let you live with me in my place." Crossbow tells him while motioning to the burns on his suit from their earlier confrontation with those thugs.

Sam's eyes narrow at Crossbow's suggestion.

"If you're having so much trouble, why don't you quit? Or better yet, join the police force where there are plenty of people with powers to be your partner?" Sam asks him suspiciously.

Crossbow winches at his question.

"I can't actually do that for a couple of reasons," Crossbow tells Sam.

"Well, I'm not interested in becoming a vigilante. I just want to live a nice quiet life. So no. Now out." Sam snaps at him while pointing towards the door.

"Wait, please. You have strong powers. I could really use your help. I'm begging you here. All I'm asking is that you help me with my work every once in a while. You can think of it as a type of company housing." Crossbow begs them slightly more desperately.

"I'm not interested in joining a fame-hunting opportunist in his stupid escapades to get himself killed!" Sam shouts at Crossbow while pointing toward the door.

"I'm not after fame! I'm after answers!" Crossbow shouts at Sam.

That response causes Sam to pause slightly, and Crossbow continues.

"Look, I'm trying to figure some things out. I can't go to the police or join them, and any private detective I hire disappears or refuses to take my case. I'm at the end of my rope here. So, I'm asking you to help me with your powers as I investigate while I help you with your living situation. As soon as I get my answers, you can quit. I don't care at that point." Crossbow tells him.

Sam looks at him suspiciously and then asks.

"And what happens to my housing after I help you? For all I know, you could kick me out as soon as I've outlived my usefulness." Sam tells him.

"Since you'll be living with me, you'll know my secret identity. So, you can always get back at me for kicking you out by snitching on me to the cops, and they'll arrest me for vigilantism. So, you'll be safe from getting kicked out without screwing me over. I'm at a bigger risk here, I'd say." Crossbow explains to them.

Sam looks at Crossbow for a few seconds before asking.

"What's your name then? I'm not going to agree to a deal with someone whose name and face I don't even know." Sam tells him.

Crossbow immediately takes off his mask and shows Sam his face before saying.

"My name is Alex Carter. Now, will you work with me? Please, I really need your help." Alex begs them.

Sam looks at them for a few more seconds before saying.

"So, just to be clear, if I help you, I'll be allowed to live in your house, and the only thing I have to do is help you investigate some things?" Sam asks him.

"Yes, that's all you have to do," Alex nods to him.

"And this thing you're investigating has resulted in private detectives coming up missing?" Sam asks again.

"Yes, it's why I've resorted to vigilantism despite not having powers," Alex tells him, winching slightly at Sam's question.

Sam pauses again and looks at him before looking towards the eviction papers on his counter. He then looks toward the broken door.

"It's either this, I go homeless or have to try and return to my family and deal with their abuse. Desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess." Sam thinks to himself.

"Fine, I'll help you out in exchange for a place to stay. So, what's my name going to be?" Sam asks Alex with a raised eyebrow.

Alex thinks about it for a few seconds before smiling.

"How about Behemoth?"

[moemoemammon]

Following that "least favorite" request could we get their reactions to being to told that they're their favorite, but to not tell the other brothers so their feelings don't get hurt? Maybe because they relate to them the most or just get along really well. Thanks!

You're My Favorite! But Don't Tell the Others-

(Feat. GN!MC and the Demon Bros)

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

Lucifer

There are no words to explain the overwhelming satisfaction ion Lucifer’s face after you tell him that. Of course, it’s only natural that he would be your favorite, all things considered.

The Avatar of Pride won’t ever forget this moment. He carefully considers your words and agrees not to tell anyone, as much as he’d love to bring it up, because he knows more than anyone what kind of chaos would ensue should the others (especially Mammon) find out.

But they can tell something’s up when the eldest has been heard humming all day. He moves about the house with even more grace than usual, and hasn’t scowled even once.

But the REAL shocker was when Mammon tried hiding a bill right as Lucifer walked in... and the eldest let him off with a warning. A WARNING! The brothers thought the Devildom must’ve frozen over, but you and he knew different.

“MC, I would like you to accompany me to Le Pluvier this afternoon, once you've finished your studies. I've already made reservations, so be sure to get ready on time. I've made sure to consider the things you might like to eat, so I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself. Don't be late." "...I'm grinning? I don't know what you're talking about."

Mammon

The gigantic grin on Mammon’s face is so bright, it could rival the sun. You’ve seriously made his day. No, his year. Actually, he’s pretty sure he could ride this high for the next millennia! There’s nothing in this world that could dampen his spirits right now! 

He feels like he just won big at the casino! Of course he’s your favorite! He WAS your first demon, and now he’s gone and claimed his rightful spot as your number one! Good luck trying to keep him from saying anything. Mammon’s gonna throw it around in everyone’s faces for as long as he can milk it.

And you thought he was clingy before, just wait till you see how he treats you after hearing that. Despite always calling you his ‘servant’ or his ‘human’, you’d  think your roles were reversed. Mammon spoils you every chance he gets, buying you clothes and trinkets, filling the spaces in your room with the things he knows you like, monopolizing you completely until nearly everything you own is a gift from him.

Your words also help soothe that jealousy of his a little. Only a little, though. It’s easier to watch you talk to other demons when he knows he’ll always be your first man.

“Didja really have to stay after class that long? I know you were talkin' to that demon that lent you a book, but you outta ask ME for stuff! Tch... you're lucky I'm in a good mood today! But I guess I don't have to worry about some low level demon like that, seein' as I'm your favorite!"

Levi

Wait wait wait....Come again? Did you seriously just say what he think you said..? That had to be a mistake! Some kind of...uh..verbal typo! Because there’s absolutely, positively, NO WAY in all of the nine layers that he could be your favorite demon. And yet you still insist that you’re telling the truth, and Levi feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. 

Red faced and stammering up a storm, Levi looks like he might die. Is it really okay for a shut-in otaku to feel this giddy? Seriously, he hasn’t felt like this since he got his hands on a signed copy of a Ruri Hana audio drama! No no, this definitely beats that!

You’ve managed to inflate his nearly nonexistent ego, and now he feels like there’s nothing he can’t do! Maybe he could even go to Majolish right now?? THAT’S how good he’s feeling!

Almost as bad as Mammon in keeping it a secret. He doesn’t tell anyone right away, but they’re suspicious when they notice how much time he’s spending out of his room. And then when he and Mammon get in another petty argument, he drops the bomb that he’s your favorite demon in the entire Devildom, and you can guess how things go from there.

“Uuuoooo...!!!!! I've decided..! Since I've got a serious stat buff, I'm going to open a booth at the next convention coming up..! I'll sell my Ruri-chan fan art and spread her influence all over the Devildom! I'd never have the guts to do it normally, but I feel like I could do anything right now! Y-you'll go too, won't you MC?"

Satan

You nearly made this man spit tea all over his book, and now he’s coughing and spluttering and trying to figure out what could’ve prompted what he’s taking as a confession. You.. do realize what you’re saying, don’t you? And you know the kind of effect your words have on him?

Satan isn’t the type that wears his heart on his sleeve, so you have to look for his subtle expressions to tell how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing subtle about the redness of his ears and how he’s begging you not to look at him right now. For the sake of his sanity, give him a minute to recoup.

When he does recover, he agrees to keep it a secret for obvious reasons. And it’s hard to tell that he’s in a good mood, other than the fact that he hasn’t tried to pull any pranks on Lucifer lately. But Asmo sees all, and literally hounds him into spilling the tea.

He tells him a lie of course, but now the other brothers are noticing just how happy he is. Satan's smiling way too much today, isn't he? And he didn't even get mad when Beel got whipped cream on his jacket! Well, not THAT mad, anyway.

"Haaah... everyone's been harassing me all day, claiming I'm smiling a lot. I'm sure I look the same as I always do, but I'll admit that I've been happy ever since you told me that this morning. Wait.. you did think I've been grinning too, do you? I have??"

Asmo

Asmo always jokes about being your favorite and announces it as if the two of you are married, but when you actually confirm that his longing for you isn’t one sided, he ends up smearing lip balm across his cheek in shock. Did you... really say that just now? He knew it all along, but hearing it like that is just...!

Ooooh, he’s so happy he can hardly contain himself! Asmo throws his arms around you, peppering your face in kisses until you feel sticky from lip balm, wipes your face clean, then marks it up all over again. Good luck getting rid of him, because he might never let go.

Immediately posts it to Devilgram. Did you really think he’d let such a momentous occasion go unannounced? You must not have been paying attention to the kind of person he is! Asmo would put you on a pedestal in front of the world like a precious jewel if he were able, but this’ll have to do. He won’t hide his love at all!

Of course, the others don’t take too kindly to it, not that he cares. He never leaves your side, pampers you like crazy, and has even attempted to get you to move into his room. Lucifer put an immediate stop to that, though. Boo...

“I just can't get enough of you, MC! Just being near you gets me so excited that I can hardly stand it! You'll take responsibility for what you're doing to me, won't you? And in exchange, I'll take my time showing you just how much I love you. After all, you're my favorite, too!"

Beel

Beel never has a problem with choking while he eats, and it comes as naturally as breathing. Unfortunately neither of that applies right now, since you just made him choke on a meatball sub.

He usually takes your words with quiet acceptance, but this might be the most emotion you've ever witness from the stoic demon. His eyes are wider than that time that laid on an entire gingerbread mansion, sparkling up with such deep emotion you wouldn't be surprised if he cried. Instead he softens up and immediately embraces you.

...And doesn't let go. Sandwich long forgotten, he's been carrying you around all day, and ignoring any questions or protests from his brothers. Also insists on feeding you throughout the day. The food tastes better when he can enjoy it with you, so why not just bring you everywhere?

When he isn't carrying you, he's following you around subconsciously, either close up against you like a protective wall, or just far enough that you're within his line of sight. As far as not telling anyone, he... tells Belphie immediately. It was an accident though, since there's not much he keeps from his twin.

"MC, I won a meal ticket for Godevil Chocolatier. Let's get something for dessert today. Ah, you can get as much as you want, too. I really want to see what things you choose. They might become my favorites."

Belphie

There's nothing in this world that can wake Belphegor from his sleep, unless he allows it. No loud noises, no amount of shaking or smacking, and not even dragging him around the house. But the moment you whisper that he's your favorite demon, the Avatar of Sloth is wide awake.

Hey, you're not just saying weird things to get a reaction, are you? Because if so, this is a new level of cruel. Yet you confirm that you mean it and swear him into secrecy, and Belphie tries his best not to show how happy he is. A smile keeps creeping up on his face that he struggles to force down. It's annoying...

As funny as it’d be to tell everyone the news, he's good at keeping secrets. Instead, you've noticed that he's been sleeping a little less that before. When he does take one of his hundreds of naps, he finds some way to be closer to you. He's even been seen sleepwalking to your exact location somehow-

It's hard for him to believe that you're not teasing, though. How could HE be your favorite demon here? Belphie doesn't do anything special to win you over, yet after everything he put you through, you like him enough to deep him your favorite?

"You're weird, MC. I mean... me? I won't deny that I'm really happy though, but I guess I'm in disbelief. You should spoil me even more until I believe you. Lend me your lap for a few hours, okay?" "...I wonder what Lucifer would think if I told him, heheh."

[paperback-rascal]

Okay okay okay okay but consider...

Crosshair, in a self-hatred fueled fit of desperation, attempting to remove his own chip and it, of course, goes wrong and he winds up with a horrific infection.

He collapses on a mission and gets left behind by his conscripted team. Luckily for him, the Batch stumbles across him—they were on the same planet, unknowing going after the same target.

Well... Specifically, Wrecker stumbles across him. He knows that the other Batchers don't trust Crosshair anymore, but... He's still their brother right? They can't just leave him behind... But, he's worried about how the others would react, so he sneaks Crosshair onto the ship and stows him away in the Cargo Hold, doing his very best to keep his presence a secret while also trying to heal him.

Unfortunately, medicine isnt Wrecker's area of expertise, which puts him in a bind: he needs to convince one of the others to help Crosshair, but who is the right person to go to? Hunter's probably a no-go, he's made his feelings towards crosshair very clear. Tech had the most medical knowledge, but he seems adamant that Crosshair is "severe and unyielding" and what if Tech doesn't want to help Crosshair because he believes the sniper is a lost cause? Omega also knows stuff about medicine, but she's just a kid, right? Besides, what if she tells Hunter? Echo is pretty compassionate, even if he doesn't know a lot about medicine, maybe he could help? But he knows that Echo doesn't like to rock the boat, so what if he refuses?

Crosshair is sick, maybe to the point of delirium, and the clock is ticking. Wrecker just wants his brother to be safe, but he doesn't know who to trust.

Wow, @ct-crosshair​​ you’re one of those people that always keep me on my toes! This is an idea that could easily be turned into a whole comics ISSUE not just a comics strip! I hope you won’t mind me... expanding your prompt more than just answering the question.

I’m not exactly sure if that’s what you expected but I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless!

It kind-of got longer than I though, thus the whole reply is under the cut/“read more”.

I think it would be more intense if Crosshair was subconsciously digging into the scarring at the side of his head (something akin to a tic?). He scratches the surface constantly because it BOTHERS him - it might be a feeling of tightness/itchiness or maybe he “sees”/”feels” a lump there and just dig his fingers at this spot, to kind of feel what is it, but he can never get “deep” enough to get it out.

He is kind of getting paranoid about it but every time he goes to medics, they just brush off his concerns as “Clones being weird for no apparent reason”(maybe the feeling of something alien being under their skin is a symptom ALL clones have post-Order 66?). Despite ointments, bacta patches, meters of gauze, even trimming Crosshair’s fingernails to the skin, the sniper’s fingers constantly prod at the wound.

I think the mission that kicks-starts your idea, had him being up-high on a sniper’s perch alone, per usual. During mission, Crosshair barely talks to his team (or they have to have radio silence of some sort, due to delicate nature of the mission) they don’t know the wound started to bother him more than usual (developing infection).

Since Crosshair tend to keep to himself post-mission, the team assumed he is just brooding somewhere alone, not bothering to come back just yet. So they are not alarmed by his absence also... they’re freaked out by his judgmental stares and remarks that cut just a centimeter too deep for their liking. With Crosshair gone they, themselves, can have a little breather.

Clone Force 99 are on the same planet as Crosshair’s team - they have the same target but different objective. However after the mission, TBB is stranded there because either/or:

they have to lay low for few days before leaving (most likely they weren’t subtle about their mission - thanks to Wrecker)

their ship broke down (thanks Tech’s chaotic flying)

they can't leave, because Crosshair's team is waiting/searching for the sniper and don’t want their position to be compromised.

I think with Wrecker when it comes to: head injuries, burns (he is a sapper with affinity for explosions) and festering wounds, he had plenty of first-hand experience. His first gut reaction would be "it's OK, Crosshair's not THAT bad, I had it worse" and he would try to help Crosshair himself with his limited knowledge.

I don't think he wouldn't hide him on the ship, tho - Havoc Marauder is a very small vessel, too small, in fact, to have any "secret", unused spaces. Every cubic centimeter of it is there for something all day, everyday (even the unused/cleared out corner at cargo, is the leave-me-alone space and it is... frequently occupied). He would find a decent secluded area (a cave or he would build him a temporary shelter for example) to keep the sniper safe... and to cool him off as "well, he feels slightly warmer to the touch but it's not that bad".

The rest of the team would notice Wrecker disappearing and appearing at random, but the planet/weather is super nice, so no wonder they all just want to be away from each-other as much as possible to recharge.

So with all that, I can see the sniper getting gradually worse, but Wrecker is in denial about his condition. Mostly trying to excuse it with the good old saying: it has to get worse before it gets better.

The sniper never was too lucid to begin with and treated the sapper like a hallucination but one day Crosshair gets WORSE (or Wrecker finally understands how bad the sniper got) on top of that weather also gets worse, Havoc Marauder was THIS.CLOSE. to being detected AKA EVERYTHING.CRUMBLES.ALL.AT.ONCE. so Hunter orders them to leave.

Wrecker considered, as a valid option, to give Crosshair back to his Imperial squad. Empire has better medical facilities than CF99 would ever stumble across and he assumes they had better medical equipment in the ship. However seeing how unbothered the squad was with their commanding officer absence, also fever-induced/delirium Crosshair was saying stuff that just made NO SENSE as to why the sniper wanted to stay with Empire.

So... Once Hunter comms Wrecker to come back NOW, we have to leave NOW. Wrecker decided to “kriff it! I’m taking him with me. What’s the worst that can happen? If Hunter leave me behind with Crosshair, so be it! At least sarge can’t sell Lula, because Omega needs it to fall asleep.”

All the way to the ship Wrecker is super gentle - it’s definitely not his usual sack-of-space!potatoes-carry but more like a wet-space!cardboard-box-of-sleeping-tooka-kittens-carry.

Hunter had to make split-second decision what to do with Wrecker just appearing at the Havoc Marauder ramp with Crosshair in his arms, but before he could even open his mouth to give any order, Omega sprung to action forcing the sapper inside...

that was like opening floodgates, with Echo being a first adult responder. But since he has just one arm, he pulls another person to the mix.

Hunter just stared at the commotion of everyone trying to help/stabilize their estranged brother. The whole mood was so heavy it could be cut with a vibro-blade.

Then, what Hunter feared the most would happen, happened - the emotional fallout.

With Wrecker thoroughly interrogated by CF99 and chastised for poorly made decision that almost caused the sniper his life and the safety of the team/mission, whole team, one after the other (not knowing about other team members doing the same), came to Hunter in private with exact same request - they begged/reasoned with him why they can’t leave Crosshair behind again.

No matter how many times Hunter said it was the sniper’s choice, no-one accepted Hunter’s reasoning.

Omega is making childish promises on how she’d help even more around the ship and do her homework better and eat everything off her plate at dinner;

Tech announced he “rethought” the whole situation that happened during the sinking city of Kamino, and now have several theories about the chips and one of them might just be an answer to the sniper’s odd behavior;

Echo’s at the brink of a PTSD episode as he himself was “the one left behind and then found”;

Wrecker being ready to just fight his way through Empire to get Crosshair back if Hunter let him go;

It was like talking with five stages of grief personified... with Hunter being also one of them.

Because deep down inside, he knew something just made no sense... but Crosshair’s decision is his own and it should be respected... right?

===

STAR WARS: The Clone Wars/The Bad Batch © George Lucas/ Dave Filoni/ LucasFilm/ Disney

[beauleifu]

heya, can I request a swk x reader comedy shot? please and ty :D

OMG YES

3K oneshot, feast well my friends~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sun Wukong x Reader

Lego Monkie Kid

Context: You attempt to take Sun Wukong out on a shopping date, only for him to stress you out with his risky antics. But hey, it's all coming from the goodness of his heart. Sucks to be you, though.

TW: One reference to drugs, but it's all in good spirits

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

"You have to promise me, though."

"Awe, but where's the fun in that?? It's like you're asking me to sell my soul to you."

"Promise!"

Letting out a huge, long sigh, Sun Wukong rolls his eyes and edges away from you. "All right, fine. I promise I won't do anything stupid. Happy?"

You soften the glare you've been giving him. "Yeah. That's good."

"Buuut, if we-"

The Monkey King is forced to shut up when you chuck an oversized hoodie at his face. He snatches it out of thin air, eyes wide as he stares at you from his cloud perch. Yes, he'd materialized the thing in the middle of your own room, however that's possible. You're turning your drawers inside out for something your idiot could wear as a disguise while he's relaxing without a care in the world. What's the occasion? You'd invited the demon out on a shopping spree - to which he'd immediately taken for a date.

You have yet to object.

In preparation for the outing, you'd packed some snacks for lunch, your wallet, and a few other necessities for the day. Wukong need only bring himself and leave his troublemaking tendencies behind.

"Kay, put that stuff on, I'll wait in the car," you say, grabbing your stuff and heading out of the room.

The monkey snorts, arms folded back to cushion his magnificent head. What's inside it, though, isn't as grand. "Oh, you're giving me privacy now?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he says casually, back towards you. All you can see is the fluffy cloud and parts of your idiot's attire. With a huff, you stride out and shut the door behind you, fully aware of the meaning behind Sun Wukong's little comment. Earlier, when his stubborn ass refused your idea of a disguise, you'd literally attempted to force him into a random outfit.

Well, he wasn't mad, per say. Actually, he was laughing, face bright red as he shoved you away so hard you're lucky your bed was there to save your back from breaking.

~~~

The mall is your destination, and so far no citizens or the like have recognized Sun Wukong (so far).

Unfortunately, Dearly Destructive isn't making things easy for you.

He strides around the mall without a care in the world, nose held high, smile wide and sharp, and even starts conversations with the cashiers.

"Dude, you're freaking me out," you whisper, shoulder to shoulder with the Monkey King.

He shoots you a sly wink. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'm an expert at staying hidden! Besides, what's the worst that could happen- OOOH!" Suddenly, the monkey isn't at your side. Looking around wildly, you spot him leaning against the rail at a dangerous angle, eyes on the bottom level of the mall. "(Y/N), look!"

Casting nervous glances at the passerby strangers, you walk up and peer down. On the first level (you two being on the second), is a fancy looking clothes store. Sun Wukong must've recognized the business logo from somewhere, but you've never seen the place before.

Is he just messing with you?

You glance suspiciously at your companion, but his eyes are glued to the shop and sparkling with curiosity.

You cave.

"You wanna go in?" You ask, watching as the demon's face splits into an even wider smile. He actually seems about to summon his cloud pet and zoom down there himself, so you quickly grab his arm. "Not here! Remember, you're supposed to be normal!"

He flashes you a cheeky look. "Pfft. Normal is actually an offensive word to use to describe me."

"It is not. Now c'mon."

Hooking your arm through his, you lead him down the escalator. The guy was always fascinated by the moving staircase, and it calms you somewhat to see him properly distracted.

So far, so good. You haven't attracted any enemies.

The clothes shop is interesting enough, full of cool outfits made of that soft material that makes you drag your hand across the racks of shirts. Smiling softly, you let Sun Wukong "go crazy" as you sort through the various shirts in search of something nice to buy. You make sure to look up occasionally to make sure your idiot is keeping himself in check. The shop is far from empty, so even a little levitation would attract onlookers.

Someone like MK is used to his mentor's behavior. He understands and has plenty of strategies to keep the both of them from getting recognized. You, on the other hand, have yet to figure out how to get the Monkey King to stop springing risky tricks on you.

"Oi!" You say the second you look up.

Of course, the demon decides to lower his hood, revealing his monkey characteristics.

His eyes lift, and the expression he's wearing lets you know that he's fully aware of what he's doing. "What?"

Oh, that was too innocent. Your face molds into a glare. "Oh my god. If you can't behave unsupervised, then I can't take you anywhere! Please, please just cover your head with the hoodie."

Sun Wukong sighs, standing in the aisle across from you. Resting his arms on the clothing rack, he cocks an eyebrow and grins. "Awe, is someone a little scared of getting caught? You know I can protect you, right-"

Reaching out, you grab the hood of his top and tug it over his face, effectively shutting him up and covering that smug look of his. He stumbles back, quickly looking up to meet your eyes. Sure, he obviously let you do that, but for what reason, you don't know. His expression, however, hasn't changed.

"You're an idiot," you say offhandedly, resuming your search.

Sun Wukong copies you, finally fitting right in with everyone else in the shop. "Yeah, but I'm your idiot."

Oh.

That makes you smile slightly. "Damn right."

Your companion catches it, and something ominous flashes in his eyes. Unfortunately, you don't notice. Not until the demon literally air jumps right over the clothing rack onto your side.

"Dude!" You gasp.

Grinning sheepishly, Sun Wukong leans against the hangers, unfazed by your outburst. "Calm down, no one saw. Anyways, your attitude got me thinking . . ." He leans forward, almost nose to nose with you. "Why don't we play dress up? You humans love that kinda stuff, right?"

All right, that makes you snort in disbelief. "Dress up? What do you take me for, a child?"

"Oh, c'mon! I know you want to~" He hums, pinching your cheek lightly. You swat him off, glaring as you back away and firmly absorb yourself within the clothes.

"No."

The Monkey King sighs exasperatedly. "Hhhhh. You're no fun."

"And you're going to get us caught."

This prompts a smirk, and you feel his slim tail prob your back gently. A jibe. He's teasing you. "You need to loosen up, sweetheart. And I know just the thing~!"

With that, he runs off to the changing rooms, shooting you a wink before vanishing behind the door. You wouldn't have been so irked by his sudden movements if it weren't for the fact that his arms were full the most ridiculous and colorful clothes before locking himself in the dressing room. That wink he sent you? It was full of wicked intentions, you just know it.

Rolling your eyes, you push your cart forward, parking it beside the room your idiot is inside.

"Wukong?"

"Not yet! Just take a seat and wait, yeah?"

"This is dumb. You're not even gonna buy any of those. I saw them."

The demon's voice is patient; you imagine him wearing a shit eating grin. "Then you'll know what a lovely assortment of clothes I picked out!"

Unable to resist an amused smile, you pull up a cushioned chair and flop down on it. Stuffing your bag under the seat, you lean back and hum; "Dunno, Wukong. I think I saw something worthy of the circus in your hoard of clothes," you say mischievously.

"Uh, no. That's a jumpsuit."

"I rest my case."

He goes quiet for a little bit, and you only hear him shuffle for a bit until he knocks on the door. "Okay. You still there?"

"Been here for five minutes, but yeah. What fresh hell did you come up with, huh?"

Something akin to a growl emits from the demon. "All right, you. Very funny. See if you still think the same thing when you see THIS-"

A burst of air. You close your eyes, shielding them from the sudden light - which came out of nowhere, to your absolute astonishment. But the sudden brightness fades, and you lower your arms to see your idiot standing in the center of the room, posing in a grand fashion. Lo and behold, he's garnished himself with the most ridiculous clothes you knew he was destined to pick out.

This rather interesting attire consists of a colorful polka-dot button up, with a sexy red bow at the collar. The top is half tucked into some pink running shorts - way too short to be men's. He's also wearing mismatched, skull themed stockings and a pair of the fluffiest boots you've ever laid eyes on.

You stare.

The Monkey King cracks an eye open. "Soooo? Whaddya think?"

As he straightens himself, you search the furthest corners of your brain for a word that could possibly describe his outfit. "It's . . . er . . . sui generis."

"It's what?" Wukong asks, still smiling as he faces the mirror outside of the dressing room, admiring his reflection. You bite your lip. No way are you actually starting to like his attire, it's the most fucked up thing the world has yet to witness. But your companion looks so relaxed in the moment, and you'd hate to ruin it for him.

Would being the operative word here. The words tumble out without permission. "It's unique. You honestly look like a disco-ball on drugs."

Wukong jerks upright, whipping around to glare at you. "That's not very nice."

"Well, look at you!" You say desperately, gesturing to what was once your lover. Honestly, who is he and what has he done with your Wukong. A deity shouldn't be messing around in a clothing store. "It's like you robbed villains with different styles and tried to mix all of it together."

The Monkey King folds his arms over his chest, puffing out a sigh. "Okay, I see your point. You want something else?"

"Gladly."

You go to stand, but Wukong snorts, wagging his finger. Suddenly, the fact that he's got something behind his back is only more noticeable. "Ah ah ah~," he says, winking at you. "Fear not, I already have something picked out. And it's a matching set!"

Only slightly nervous, you lace your fingers together. "Eh? Let's see it, then."

"As you wish," he hums, smirking, and reveals the items stowed behind his back. Your eyes widen at the assortment of colors and fluffy material.

It's a onesie. Or rather, two onesies; they match in shape, design, and color, but the print on the chest area is different. The first one says 'I get us into trouble', while the other one says 'I get us out of trouble'. It's actually hilarious, because Wukong had chosen onesies that include your favorite colors, and obviously the quotes on the front are on point. You can't help a faint smile.

"This is ridiculous."

Wukong snorts - quite literally. "Dude, c'mon. I did this to cheer you up. I think they look great!"

Oh.

You blink, somewhat startled into saying; "You, my friend, are an imbecile."

Frankly, you don't mean that comment one bit, and both of you know it. The realization that Sun Wukong, someone far superior than the likes of you, pulled something so ridiculous just to ease the stress you feel? After annoying you all day, though, it's hard to believe.

The King snorts. "Ha! And you have like, zero class. These are a work of art and we are so buying them."

"We??"

"Sure! I'll buy them with your money," he says, striding right up to you and grabbing your face in his furry paws. With a smile that could match the sun, he continues; "Please?"

Gazing weakly back, face squished in his grip, you sigh. "Hhhhh . . . fine."

"Awe, don't be sad," your idiot hums, releasing you and stepping back. "If you want, I can wear this one-" With that, he holds up the first onesie. I get us out of trouble. Well, it does seem to fit the way he's been acting lately, so you nod in defeat. No, it's not like you appreciate the idea of wearing matching onesies, he'd just bother you until you cave.

"Perfect. You're the best, (Y/N)," Wukong continues, giving you the finger gun.

"Har har. Let's just get out of here," you sigh. Then, you point furiously at his attire. "And change out of that, you look like a lunatic!"

"Fine, fine . . ."

After gazing smugly at you for a few seconds, he makes a break for the dressing room and comes out a second later in the clothes you'd given him for the day. All right, so Wukong won this fight. Funny how he did it looking like he'd just run from the circus. So, after purchasing the onesies, the both of you head out of the mall.

Obviously, he'd made you wear yours, while he simply materialized into his. It's pretty comfortable, actually.

"So how did your superiors ever manage you?" You wonder briefly, sitting on the top of the wooden rail. The two of you are at the bridge, overlooking the sunset in the distance. "Considering you're a master of chaos."

Wukong is on the ground, arms crossed on the rail as he blinks up at you. "Dunno. Why don't you go ask them?"

"Uh-huh. And how, exactly, would I do that?" You snort.

Poof!

The Monkey King is suddenly in front of you, floating on his little cloud. Below him, the rushing traffic of Megapolis. You kind of want to push him off and see what happens.

He suddenly extends his hand. "I can give you a ride, if you want."

You roll your eyes. "Hell no."

"Oh my stars, (Y/N), if I had a penny every time you said 'no' I'd be a millionaire," Sun Wukong says exasperatedly, falling back onto the cloud. A puff of white, and you have to wave the stuff away to clear your vision. "Seriously! What's up with you today?"

A sour frown and a firm retort is his only response. "I don't know, maybe I'm a little stressed out from how risky you were at the mall."

"That's all? All I did was show off my handsome features," he says carelessly, gazing at the darkening sigh, head propped up on his arms. His long, furry tail hangs from the white fluff, swaying slightly. The cloud in question is floating gently closer to you, and you wait for your chance.

"Sure. You think that. See if I ever take you out again."

The demon snorts. "You will."

A smile blooms on your face; the cloud is finally close enough. Is it doing that on purpose? Does it have some sort of awareness? Who knows, you're just grateful the opportunity to have your revenge.

You make your move with a triumphant, "HA!", reaching out with your feet and shoving the Monkey King off his perch.

"What the-"

Your lover flails around, hands lashing out to catch himself on the railing. Eyes wide, he watches you hop off, feet now planted firmly on the ground while his dangle off the edge of oblivion. With a gay smile, you saunter up to the demon and prop your elbows on either side of his furry paws.

"Oh, look, a damsel in distress."

He glares at you, but it's all dead threats. "That was a cheap trick."

"You aren't pulling yourself up, though," You hum, leaning over to meet his eyes. Smiling wickedly, you grab his wrists. "Heh. Long live the king."

With that, you push him off. Wukong promptly vanishes, a blur of colors and orange fur as he ascends with terrifying speed down into the city below.

Poor him. You, on the other hand, are laughing your ass off.

He comes back - he always does, levitation and all -, looking extremely disheveled. Eyes literally a roaring furnace, the Monkey King latches onto the rail and heaves himself over, falling onto the bridge with his ass in the air. "Ungh . . . that . . . was a little uncalled for, but hey. It's fine. I forgive you-" He lets out a long exhale, breathing hard as he regains his composure.

"You should've seen your face," you snort, hands in pockets as you observe him. Onlookers can keep looking, you don't care anymore. Seems like Wukong's antics finally did the trick.

He huffs, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. "If I did that to you, the outcome would be totally different."

"I believe you," you hum, booping his nose. "But you'd never do that."

"Heh. You're cute when you lie to yourself."

That makes you roll your eyes. Wukong is back to his insufferable self, slipping his arm through yours and leading you off the bridge. Sure, the both of you must look a little funny in matching onesies, but you're at ease. The stress of keeping Wukong safe is gone now, you just want to make the most of tonight.

So, when you reach your home, you turn around before your companion leaves. "Hey, Wukong."

"Wassup?" He spins on heels, eyes wide and earnest.

You smile warmly. "Thanks for the date."

His jaw promptly drops, shock flashing across his features. After a moment he composes himself, clearing his throat. "Oh! Um, yeah. Yes. No problem, anytime."

"I love you."

The simple sentence does the trick. The Monkey King, your idiot and lover demon, screws his face up, balls his paws into fists, and exhales forcefully. "All right," he growls, albeit smiling; "You're just begging for me to stay longer. Aren't you."

You grin. "Well, since you asked . . ."

"Oh my stars, you are awful." With that, Wukong snatches you up into his arms. "As punishment, you're sleeping at my place."

"Fine with me, dude."

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

��I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

[tendouluvr]

aizawa calling you clingy - gn reader

- [attempt at] angst to fluff

- warnings: being called clingy, aizawa gets annoyed with reader and berates them, one use of the word ‘shit’

- wc: 1.9k

a/n: this wasnt......as sad as i wanted... i cant tell if im just not so good at writing angst or immune to it T_T

once again, not edited!

#! aizawa!!!! eee

#! hes a levelheaded man so arguments are rare

#! u both trust one another so theres no reason to have doubts in ur relationship

#! being his s/o, he tells u things thats not so easy to tell others over time, and you’re patient enough to let him take however much time he needs to let u in

#! however, years of keeping to himself most of the time doesnt just disappear even if you’re his s/o

#! so aizawa does have this tendency to close off and distance himself from u bc of his stress and insecurities

walking through the spacious halls of ua, you were headed towards your lovely boyfriend. aizawas been pretty busy lately with teaching his class, making sure no one is being left behind progress wise, doing his job as a pro-hero, and then spending his free time training with shinsou.

you knew showing up at school unexpectedly was something aizawa found irky, that’s why you made sure to tell him the night before that you would be coming during lunch time to bring him some yummy homemade food.

humming softly to yourself, you finally reached the door opening to class 1-A and walked in. the classroom was empty, but there at the front was no one other than mr. aizawa shouta. you quickly greeted him with a smile and he turned to look at you.

“what are you doing here?” he slowly asked with a look of confusion.

“i brought you some food! did you eat yet? i hope not, i made-,” you quickly stopped talking once you noticed the look he was giving you.

“why are you here? i already told you, you shouldnt be showing up without letting me know first. our relationship is quiet, if the students see they’ll get noisy and ask questions, i’ll get bombarded by my colleagues, and it’ll put you in danger if words get out. did anyone see you coming here? can you listen to me for once instead of continuing to always be near me? you’re so damn clingy and need to start thinking about the consequences your action will bring. i already ate, just go home before anything happens.”

your jaw dropped a little after hearing what he just said to you. did he not remember what you told him last night?

worst of all, you couldnt believe he just called you clingy. you just wanted to do something nice for him by making his favorite food hoping that it’ll relieve some of the stress thats been building up, but he just thought of you as clingy.

fine, if clingy is what you are then you’ll stop bothering him. you quickly whispered an apology, not sure if he could hear or not, and began making your way back home as fast as possible. the food you made for him was still tightly grasped in your hand.

due to the new dormitories, aizawa stays at ua majority of the time. he comes home to your shared apartment whenever he can to spend time with you. unfortunately, those time aren’t usually much because as soon as he’s free, he’s quick to do something else.

once you’ve made it home, you packed the food away and put it in the fridge. you felt your phone buzzing repeatedly, already guessing who it could possibly be, you took it out to see it was your boyfriend.

shou <3: im sorry

shou <3: honey, im so sorry. pls text me back when u can

shou <3: i know what i said hurted u, but i promise u i dont mean it. pls just call me or text me so we can talk about this

shou <3: i have to go back now. but i love u. so much.

staring at your screen, you contemplated texting him back.

letting out a sigh, you decided not to.

putting your phone to the side, you walked to the bedroom and changed out of your clothes into the comfy pjs you were wearing right before you left.

seeing that there was nothing for you to do other than wallow in your insecurities and let out a few tears, you got into bed and made yourself comfortable for an afternoon nap.

aizawa on the other hand was at school and distracted. his own words kept replaying over and over in his head and all he wants to do is smack himself a few times (after comforting u ofc).

his students could tell he was in a badder mood than usual so they collectively agreed to not worsen it (one particular student does not care. can u guess?). aizawa just wanted the day to pass so he can apologize to you directly and make it up with some cuddling.

despite being distracted with planning his apology and thinking about you, he was still teaching as he should and constantly telling his students to be quiet because he’s intimidating like that.

a few hours passed, the students are back in their dorms and some of the teachers are still in school finishing up some work. the hallways were empty and silent, and the weather outside was nice and calm - not too sunny with just the right amount of wind.

however, if you were to peek your head inside of class 1-A at the moment, the environment is an exact 180. aizawa is quickly trying to grade the remaining stack of papers he has on his desk so he can leave as soon as he can. there’s papers everywhere, he’s not so sure where the answer key went off to but to hell with the answer key. he just needs to go home.

his hair is messily tied up and his lips have probably been gnawed off by now. as soon as school ended, he got out his phone to see if you replied and sadly you didn’t. he doesn’t blame you though, considering all of the shit he said to you earlier. 

finally writing down the fat score in red pen onto the final paper, he gathers everything and put to the side of his desk and packed up his stuff. his stuff being his yellow sleeping bag and that’s it.

he went to his room first to clean himself up a bit, and then grabbed a taxi to go to your shared apartment. arriving at the front door, he takes out his copy of the key and entered.

first thing he noticed while entering and taking off his shoes was that the apartment was dark and quiet. he made his way to the kitchen first and turned on its lights to check the fridge. in the fridge laid the food you made for him earlier today. he took it out to start heating it up in the microwave then he walks away from the food and to your bedroom.

quietly opening the door, he poked his head in to see you laying on your side with your back facing the door. he assumed you were asleep and gently closed the door to not wake you up. he made his way over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. 

you, feeling the bed dip, slowly opened your eyes to be greeted with the sight of your boyfriend gingerly brushing his fingertips across your cheekbones. he notices that you’re awake and looks up to meet your eyes.

making eye contact with him, you quietly grunted and brought the blanket up to cover your face while turning your entire body to the other side to ignore him. aizawa sighed and brought his hand down to rest on your waist as he begins talking.

“yn... i know you’re.. mad at me for the things i said to you earlier, but i’m truly sorry. i know saying i didn’t mean it isn’t good enough for you to forgive me, but i want you to know i’m really really sorry. i’ve been so busy for the past few days, my head is all over the place, seeing you at school just got me overthinking and worried that i ended up saying things about you that’s not true at all. i love you so much, hun. you’re the best thing to happen to me. you don’t have to forgive me now, i understand if you want some space.”

it was silent for some time after he finished his apology. the echoing silence was slowly making aizawa worried that you’ll leave him, but he won’t tell you that. thinking that you wanted space, he lifted his shaky hand off of your waist and moved to get off of the bed when you suddenly grabbed onto his hand to keep him there.

“i...i told you the day before that i was going to be visiting you during lunch time. did you not remember? or even hear me tell you?”

aizawa situated himself back down onto the bed before replying. “if i’m being honest, i don’t really remember much of that day at all. my brain was occupied with work and rest, so i was practically drained by the end of the night. i’m sorry i took it out on you, it’s my fault for overworking when i know you’ve been trying to help.”

letting out a soft sigh, you turned your body back towards him. still holding onto his hand, you carefully slotted your fingers in between his and pulled him down to lay with you. he immediately found comfort in this and placed his head into your neck. you could feel his facial hair against your skin making you let out a quiet giggle.

“i love you. i know you have a habit to overwork since that’s all you did before we dated, but please shou, take care of yourself. im not talking physically, cuz you’re already so damn fine, but mentally. i hate seeing you bury yourself in work and training that it even makes me tired just watching you.”

he grumbled something against your neck - his usual reaction to you complimenting him - and held onto you tighter while putting light kisses on your collarbone.

“i know. i will. please bear with me, i know i’m a pain but i’ll always try to be my best for you. i’m never letting you go, love you too much for that.”

“hmm? who said i’m going? you’re stuck with me forever just so you know,” you laughed and patted his head before rising from the bed.

“i heard you heating up the food earlier. get up and come eat,” you tugged aizawa to get him off the bed.

he grumbled once again because he was being forced to leave the warm comfort of your shared bed, but followed you out anyway holding onto your hand.

“wait. you heard me entering? so you were pretending to sleep when i got here?! not funny, babe. not funny. -also don’t take sleep for granted. i did and look where that got me. stop laughing!”

bonus:

it was the next day and aizawa just finished passing out the grades he rushed grading yesterday. even though it was rushed, he was confident that there wasn’t any mistakes-

“aizawa sensei, you marked this question wrong when it’s right. this one too. and this other one on the last page. are you trying to fail me?!” denki dramatically wailed as he showed aizawa his papers.

guess he did make mistakes after all.

[fanfic-scribbles]

Crash Pad

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: You’re just minding your own business when the Winter Soldier crashes into your life. Literally.

Quick facts: Romance – established past Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes leading into Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes/Reader – Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Fluff, slight mention of blood

Words: 7801

A/N: I started writing this a few months ago and almost finished when my life got fairly shook up. Still, I’m quite proud of being able to eke out an ending. For anybody who only cares about this story, feel free to skip this note, but for anybody following my other stuff: writing is going to be slow for the time being. My mom died and things are pretty topsy-turvy right now. Writing is still a comfort, but head to hands isn’t working the same right now. Thanks for your patience; I hope this is a pleasant read for you in the mean time <3

  ~

 You’re getting ready for bed and have just turned off the living room light when you hear a clatter on the fire escape. You haven’t gotten over to shut the window yet and you wince at the thought of maybe coming face to face with a giant rat, or a raccoon, although you haven’t yet seen a raccoon and you’re pretty sure they don’t live in the city but it would probably be better than a rat the size of a raccoon–

What you get is much, much worse as a fully grown man falls through the curtains, knocks over a side table and potted plant, and crashes onto your living room floor with a wheezed (but emphatic), “God damn it!”

You freeze, unsure of whether to run or yell or maybe both. However the man flounders on the floor, unable to otherwise move much as he holds his side and– is that blood on your floor?

“Are you okay?” you ask despite everything.

He yanks his head back to look at you and grimaces. “Fuck, I–” He tries to get up, slips in what you are almost positive is blood, and slumps over with a little sigh and a handful of muttered curses that might be in another language. “I am really sorry about this,” he says lowly, like he's embarrassed to be bleeding out in a stranger’s living room. Then he shifts a little more and moonlight gleams on his arm. His very…shiny…completely metal arm, and you find a whole new way to be concerned.

You should have known the reasonable rent was a goddamn trap.

You take a few steps back, barely avoid hitting the counter, and flick the light back on without taking your eyes away from the man on your floor. He squints at the brightness and shows you a face that is, both fortunately and unfortunately, familiar. Fortunately because Captain America and the Avengers somehow got him pardoned for potential war crimes and treason even without him being present for any of that circus of a trial. Unfortunately because…war crimes. And treason. And that is definitely blood.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out and looks a little woozy. “There were sheets– I thought the building was empty.”

“The sheeting is for the building right next to us,” you say and sigh. “I’m going to guess you are not in favor of me calling an ambulance?”

He just blinks at you a few times. Maybe he is secretly a raccoon.

“Please don’t,” he says, some life returning to his eyes, and he looks you up and down. The rubber duck pajamas must put him at ease because, while he is still tensely holding his midsection, his shoulders relax a little. “I’m so–”

“Sorry, yes, I know.” You point at the bathroom. “I’m going to get the first aid kit and hopefully I won’t have to explain to the coroner’s office why Captain America’s boo bled out on my floor.”

You’re just opening up the cupboard that hopefully contains at least some band-aids when he calls out, “What the hell is a ‘boo?’”

~

Two old t-shirts, one and a half rolls of dusty gauze, and his own homemade stitch kit later, the man is finally all patched up. “How are you not passing out from blood loss?” you ask, eyeing the mess on the nice hardwood that has definitely just lost you your deposit. But there’s no corpse to deal with, so at least things aren’t as bad as they could be.

“I’m built pretty hardy.” He sits up a little more and groans. Before you can beg him not to split his side again, he extends his hand. “James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”

You shake his hand (gently) and tell him your name. “Do you let everybody call you Bucky, or just the people whose floor you bleed all over?” Something moving catches your eye and you sigh at the sight of your inexpensive (but still nice) curtains blowing slightly, showing off their new stains. “Floor and drapes…”

“I’ll clean it,” he says. “I can get blood out of anything.” He winces. “I…that sounds worse than it is.”

“I imagine getting blood out of anything is a good skill for an international spy-assassin to have,” you say.

Bucky scowls. And, you think, blushes a little, though how he has enough blood to do that you don’t know. You look at the spot again. It looks big to you but maybe you’re making a fuss over nothing. No, wait, there’s still dried blood on your floor. You’re allowed a fuss. “So you know who I am.”

“Your boy made it hard to miss,” you say.

He grumbles to himself, then says, “He’s always such a drama queen. I didn’t need to be pardoned.”

“Really,” you say and look at the bloodied handkerchief wrapped around a bullet he dug out of himself. “Looks like at least one other person disagrees with you.”

“This was Steve’s fight, not mine.” He huffs. “Story of my goddamn lif–”

He suddenly falls back and you reach out instinctively to catch him. He recovers quickly, wild-eyed and stiff and you scoot back just in case. He takes a few deep breaths and seems to force himself calm. It doesn’t look very effective and you’re honestly starting to worry. “You really–”

“I did not faint,” he snaps and maybe he has more blood than you thought, or maybe absolutely all of it has come to collect in his face.

“I was going to say you really need a hospital,” you say. “But yeah, you did.”

He grumbles under his breath and then, as if predicting your protests, stands up quickly enough to waver. Serves him right, you think, but when he scowls at you, you wonder if maybe he’s psychic too. “Try not to pass out on your way home,” you say, because if he wants to leave there’s really nothing you can do to stop him.

“Funny,” he says. He clears his throat and adds, much more sincerely, “Thanks.”

For the t-shirts, for the first aid kit, for not calling the cops, for not calling the Avengers so Captain America can hone in on him like a cartoon hound, for not bitching about the floor too much– the list is many and varied and so you give him a simple nod and hope you can get even a little bit of sleep tonight because work tomorrow is going to be hell without it.

He goes back to the window and before you can point out you have a perfectly good door, Bucky slips out onto the fire escape again. You shrug to yourself and go over to firmly flip the lock. You’ve done your part– in the event he slips and hits his head, someone else can be the good Samaritan. You’re going to bed and tomorrow this is going to feel like a weird dream, if there is even a single good deity in existence.

~

You’re not sure if it’s proof of or a mark against the existence of said single good deity when Bucky shows back up in your fire escape the next evening and taps politely against your open window before he lets himself back in, scooting your new plant just an inch out of the way.

“I have a door,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth.

“Your hallway’s too well lit,” he says, much more hale and hearty and obviously not suffering major blood loss. His hair even looks like he just got out of the shower, all soft and shiny and bouncing a bit as he twists his upper body to start pulling stuff out of a backpack hanging off one shoulder. “I got stuff to clean the floor, and a replacement first aid kit. You outta keep it better stocked, so I got you one of the good ones.”

“O…kay,” you say, for lack of anything better. There’s a hysterical laugh building up in the back of your throat as the Winter Soldier brings out some rags and a cleaning solution for your bloodstained hardwood floor, but you cough it out and say, “Thanks,” when the formerly-feared international assassin looks at you like you’re crazy before he gets on his hands and knees and starts scrubbing.

It’s not fair no one would believe you. You’re not quite sure this isn’t an elaborate daydream, but then, you like to think you’d imagine something more fun than this. You clear your throat. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thanks,” he grunts, glaring at the floor and rubbing at the stain like it has offended him personally. It’s a little worrisome when he goes at it hard enough to maybe rub a hole right through the floor– you’d rather deal with the stain– but there’s a hard edge to his eyes that make you think maybe it’s a good idea for him to work it out in a productive, non-violent way. And if it turns violent, hopefully he has some home repair skills to make up for it.

You busy yourself with making tea, using the nice pot and the nice cups you never get to break out, and by the time it’s almost done steeping Bucky isn’t rubbing quite so hard and, in fact, seems to have made the stain do a disappearing act.

“Nice,” you say. “You want some tea? I made plenty.”

He lifts his head and tilts it as he squints at you, like he’s still not sure of you. But he shrugs, says, “Sure,” and stands up, rolling his shoulders. He looks down at the floor and nods appreciatively before coming to sit on the other side of the counter. “It’s almost gone; just a little bit more and it’ll be like I was never here.”

That last part could have been a decent joke, but he said it so seriously you just clear your throat. “Thanks,” you say and start pouring. “My landlord is going to have to find some other excuse to try and keep my security deposit.”

Bucky snorts but otherwise makes no noise. At first it’s nice, if a bit awkward, as you don’t really feel the need to fill the silence, but it becomes clear by the way Bucky glares at the plant sitting in front of him on the counter that something is eating at him. You’re not sure whether or not to pry, but it seems polite to at least ask, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” he grunts and leans even lower to the surface of the counter.

You stare at him. “I appreciate what you did, but you didn’t have to come back,” you say gently, because a pissed-off former-assassin isn’t really a problem you want to have on your hands. “I’m not awful enough to actually expect you to clean up your own blood the day after you nearly bled to death.”

“What?” He blinks and then scowls and shakes his head. “No, it’s not that; it’s…” He picks up his cup and downs all of it, despite the fact that it was still steaming. Tentatively you pour him another cup, to which he says, “thanks,” before loading it with sugar again. “It’s good,” he says and this time he sips it.

“It’s one of my favorites. Very soothing,” you say. “Normally.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I wish anything was soothing. You know Steve almost ran into a goddamn minefield today?”

You didn’t know that, you don’t think anything the Avengers do is any of your business, really, and where does one even find a minefield in New York City– you don’t say any of that, but you apparently don’t need to, because Bucky is off like a shot saying more words than you’d have thought possible for him. All of it is ranting about what a reckless dumbass Captain America is, and a Brooklyn accent increasingly comes through, egged into existence by sheer aggravation. You sit and listen, transfixed not so much by the details (they’re too fleeting and sparse) but by how annoyed Bucky is with Captain Amer- with “Steve goddamn pain in the ass Rogers” and you’re never going to be able to see him again without snickering.

Bucky sighs heavily and rests his chin on the table. He looks very tired, all of a sudden. Maybe a relaxing tea and enthusiastic rant wasn’t the best combination. Then again, he also looks less tense, so perhaps it’s fine. “Why don’t you stop for the night and go get some sleep,” you say and take away his cup. “You can finish up tomorrow.”

He squints at you, squints back at the floor (that you honestly can’t tell is any different from the rest), and looks back at you. “You don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” you say and stack the cups. “When you come back refreshed you can tell me why Steve Rogers can never walk past that animal shelter without ducking his head in shame.”

Bucky’s smile is lopsided and he shakes his head. “Maybe,” he admits and hops off the chair. “I’ll just…leave the stuff here then, if that’s okay?”

You nod and he quickly picks up and puts the supplies in the empty bottom space of your side table. He goes for the window.

“I have a-!”

And he’s gone. You roll your eyes. If Steve Rogers really is as much of an asshole as Bucky says he is, then those two deserve each other.

~

For all that the Captain America mythos has been debunked for you, you’re still brought up short when you suddenly encounter Steve Rogers the next night.

On your fire escape.

He knocks his head against the railing in his scramble to simultaneously get up and face you, curses, and lifts his hands defensively. “I can explain.”

You rub your face with both hands. They definitely deserve each other. “I doubt that,” you mutter and sigh heavily. Thank goodness there haven’t been any actual fires; you don’t know how you’d get out with all these buff superheroes hanging around outside your window. “Have you lost something?”

Captain America looks at the ground for a moment, and then flashes you a smile. “…Yes?”

God, he is a smartass. “Do you want to come inside or do you want to risk some Nosy Nancy from the building across the street seeing a big shadow and calling the cops?”

That would never happen, but he slips inside almost immediately and then there he is, in all his uniformed, shield-holding glory. It’s too weird to think about, and you step back to give him (and you) space while you close the curtains. “Thank you,” he says politely and looks around. “Your apartment is lovely; it’s very…green.”

You’re not sure why he hesitates, until you see him looking at your yellowing majesty palm. “He’s coming back,” you say and go to adjust the plant for lack of anything else your nervous hands can do. “Would you like something to drink?”

“No thank you,” he says and stands with his feet shoulder wide and his hands clasped down in front of him. It is perhaps the least comforting thing he can do and for one ridiculous moment you wish Bucky was here to be in between you. You wish the Winter Soldier was here. To protect you. From Captain America.

You clear your throat. “So,” you say and grab yourself something. “Do you lurk outside everyone’s apartment at some point, or am I just special?”

For all his military posturing, Captain America squirms like a schoolboy. “I swear I wasn’t– okay, I guess I was but not intentionally? I was…looking. For something.”

“Something you dropped?” you ask him.

“A person,” he says, staring elsewhere. For a moment you have a paranoid thought he’s staring at the space where Bucky had fallen in that night, but no, he’s just looking at the window. At least you remembered to change the curtains.

“Pretty sure you can see one of those without squinting into the grates,” you say.

“He might have passed through on his way somewhere else,” Captain America says. “Have you seen a man outside?”

“Other than you?” you ask. He blushes even harder than Bucky does– and think of the devil, you have a moment where you’re not sure what you should say, but quickly come to realize that whatever is going on between the two of them, you do not want to get stuck in the middle.

You’re prepared to lie your ass off, but he apparently takes your response as a rebuke. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you feel unsafe.”

“It’s fine,” you say. Despite his previous answer, you lean into the fridge to get him a bottle of water. “I’m pretty sure Captain America isn’t going to murder me. And if you decided you wanted to, well, there’s nothing I could really do about it.”

He chokes on the drink he’s just taken. You instinctively lean in so you can slam his back but after a couple of hits he covers his mouth and waves you off. “Sorry, sorry,” he says and grabs a nearby dishcloth to wipe up what he just spit on the counter. “That was just…really dark.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m not the one lurking on fire escapes,” you say.

He rolls his eyes. The nerve. You laugh and he actually grins. Asshole. His smile softens though and he says, “I’m really–”

“Sorry,” you finish for him.

“Am I that predictable already?”

You shrug. You want to tell him it’s because he and Bucky seem very much alike in that respect. You want to but…you don’t. Whatever Bucky’s problem is, he seems to want to deal with it himself, and it’s not your place to get in between them and start snitching. “You seem the type. Don’t worry about it so much. You…look pretty worried. I’m not going to hold it against you.”

“Thank you.” His lips turn into a sad sort-of smile and he takes a slower drink. “I guess I am pretty worried. This man I’m looking for, he’s…important to me, and he’s been through a lot, and I just want to know he’s okay.”

You stare at him. He looks down. And looks down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to babble like that,” he says and glances at you with a strained smile. “I don’t normally do that.”

“Hm.” You stare at him for several seconds and notice he is blinking an awful lot. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m a little tired,” he says, quietly, and some of the posturing seeps out of him and he lets himself slump a little more. He suddenly shakes his head and sits up straight again. “Thanks again for…” He looks around and settles for shaking his water bottle.

You hold back a laugh. “Sure. I uh…do you need me to call you a cab?”

He shakes his head firmly and, to his credit, he’s pretty excellent at pretending to be okay. You almost believe him. “I can get home all right.”

“Well, please make sure you do. I can think of a lot of people who’d be sad to think of you collapsing on the way home because you wore yourself down to the bone,” you say. “And from how you seem to worry about your friend, I bet you can think of at least one.”

He blinks, like he’s surprised, but a smile curls onto his face, warm and true. “Good night,” he says, and because you’re so nice, you don’t stop him when he goes back out the window. At this point, it’s beginning to feel like a lost cause.

~

“What did you say to him?”

“I know you don’t like the door,” you say, not even turning away from the plant you’re watering. Any time you put down the canister you forget where you left off and you are not going to kill these plants by overwatering. Not again. “But maybe you could at least tap on the window when you decide you’re going to enter my apartment.”

“Why do you leave your window open?” Bucky huffs. You can hear him sit at the counter behind you. “You know what kind of creeps can take advantage of that?”

You finish watering the last plant and turn to stare at him. “I’m starting to get an idea.”

Bucky scowls. “I’m not a creep,” he mutters.

“Polite society encourages doorways instead of windows,” you say. “It’s okay. Captain America, apparently, is also a creep.”

Bucky sits up straighter. “What did he say?”

“Not much,” you say. “He was squatting on the fire escape like he could make you spontaneously materialize. I invited him in for an explanation and after a little while he went on his way.”

“After a little while,” Bucky repeats and squints at you suspiciously.

You shrug. “He likes to vent to complete strangers, apparently. But I didn’t tell him anything about you, it doesn’t seem fair to tell you anything about him. If you want to know, I get the feeling you can go ask him.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but he stands up and stretches. “You said I bled on the drapes?”

“I already scrubbed that out, if you can finish the floor,” you say and go for the tea pot. “Do you like green tea?”

“As long as you do it right,” he says and starts scrubbing again. “I hate it all bitter.”

You go for the good matcha and start preparing it while he works out his frustrations on your floor. You glance at him a couple of times but he seems fully focused on his task, until you finish the tea and call him back to the bar.

“Steve Rogers is a pain in the ass and don’t let anyone tell you different,” he grumbles, but it’s soft and there’s a troubled look on his face as he takes his cup.

“Do you miss him?” you ask and blow gently across your drink.

Bucky shifts uncomfortably. Just as you're about to apologize for overstepping, though, he speaks. “It’s hard to go back when you’ve done the shit I have, you know?”

No. You have absolutely no idea what it’s like to live as a free man after decades of literal objectification and being used as a murder weapon for fascists. But it doesn’t seem very helpful to say that, so instead you say, gently, “I can’t even imagine.”

Bucky bobs his head and takes another sip of his drink. You’re delighted he seems to be drinking it fairly quickly, but also a little dismayed because a good matcha latte takes a decent amount of work and it’ll take a little time if he wants another cup. “I want to go back but I can’t yet. I wish he wouldn’t be so goddamn stubborn about it is all. Just because he thinks I didn’t do anything wrong doesn’t make it true.”

You nod, like any of this makes any goddamn sense to you. But maybe– maybe it doesn’t have to. Maybe Bucky’s saying all this because you’re an outside entity with no personal stake in, or knowledge of, what counts as treason, or what’s needed to lack culpability, or what it means to be an absent friend.

He rambles, a little bit, and though about half the words are proper nouns you don’t recognize, you nod along, and when he finishes his latte you make him another one, and when he leaves, you don’t mention the door. Even though you want to.

~

You’ve actually forgotten how nice it is to have someone come through the door. Case in point–

“Um, I hope this is all right,” Steve Rogers, dressed in casual civilian fare and holding a small pot of flowers, says as you can do nothing but stare at him. “I just wanted to stop by and thank you again for being so understanding. May I…come in?”

That snaps you out of your funk and you quickly stand aside. “Of course; sorry, I just…wasn’t expecting you.”

“I was just going to leave the plant with a note if you weren't here, but I’m glad you were,” Captain Rogers says and walks in, and sets the pot down on the counter.

You walk over to the fridge. “Would you like something to–” As you turn to finish the question you see him glance furtively at the window. Ah, of course. He looks down guiltily and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh. Well, he did come through the correct entrance and brought some pretty flowers. “All right, you did knock on the door this time; go sniff around the fire escape all you want.”

“I’m just checking something I forgot,” he says quickly and goes to the window. He’s only outside long enough for you to brew some tea and he comes back in just as you’re pouring his cup. It isn’t until he’s about to take a sip, however, that he says, “Oh– I know it looks bad, but Bucky– sorry, James Barnes– I swear he isn’t dangerous.”

“I know. I saw some of the trial stuff,” you lie. Well, you did see some of it, but it wasn’t until you heard Bucky mutter “Martha Stewart was right,” while fussing at some of the blood on his shirt that you felt safer. Strange as it is to think.

Steve relaxes his shoulders like some of the weight is off of them. “You have no idea how good that is to hear. You wouldn’t believe some of the things people say to me. I can’t really punch people anymore because I’m so much stronger now but it’s so tempting sometimes. At least when it’s online I can mime punching them.”

His annoyed tone allows you to laugh a little. “Maybe imagine the block button is a punch in the face?” you suggest.

He grins. “My friend Clint suggested printing out the most irritating comments and taping them to a punching bag. It didn’t really work but the thought was nice. The block button as a punch to the face though…”

The guy doesn’t really need more violence in his life, but he genuinely seems pleased with the idea, so you let it be. And when he starts ranting in detail about some of the comments he gets about Bucky, you make a new pot of tea– chamomile. For the both of you.

~

You don’t know how the flowers are dead already– it seems like Steve just brought them and they were so pretty you immediately looked up care instructions and followed them to the letter. Or so you thought. But now, only days later, you have a pot of dirt and withered petals.

And Bucky sulking at your counter.

“I told him I was fine,” he says petulantly.

You sigh and bring the pot over to the sink and think about what to do. “Did you tell him in person?”

“In a letter. He knew it was from me.”

The soil looks nice, so you’ll dig out the remains and try to plant some replacement seeds. Maybe that was the problem– maybe the flowers were sick or something. “Well reading and seeing are two different things.”

“He knows I cover him in fights.”

You slowly look at Bucky. His oh-so intelligent response is to bristle like a cat and go, “What?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s desperate to see you, knows you’re near when he’s fighting, and you wonder why he’s “so goddamn reckless?’”

Bucky just glares. Yeah, these two morons absolutely deserve each other.

You hope Bucky figures it out sooner rather than later.

~

He doesn’t, but he keeps coming by, as does Steve, and you resign yourself to hosting two pining idiots who keep dancing around each other.

Bucky drinks anything you give him without complaint. However he drinks the lattes and almost anything green tea a little quicker, though he tries to hide his cup from you when he does. Whether he’s ashamed of going through them so fast or embarrassed you don’t know, but you start to give him bigger cups, and that seems to help.

The first time you give Steve a cup of apple pie spice, he gives you a severe glare– which he then completely undermines by liking the blend immensely.

“I swore the next person who offered me apple pie would get popped,” Steve says, an amusing mixture of half-bluster and half-shame as he sips from the classic teacup you hope not to regret handing him.

“Lucky for me it’s not actually apple pie,” you say. “Do people really make that joke?”

The eyeroll Steve gives that is 200% sass. “You have no idea,” he says, deadly serious, “–how funny people think they are.”

~

This becomes…oddly normal. Listening to Steve talk about anything that’s on his mind, giving Bucky new tea blends just to see how he reacts to them; your apartment is no longer just you and a bunch of greenery that seems to wilt more often than not. Everything seems warmer, and better– even your plants seem healthier. (For that, though, you suspect Bucky is giving them a special mixture of something after you catch a glance of him messing with one of the pots. You want to ask him what he’s doing, but you don’t want to admit that he’s better at taking care of them than you are.)

It’s so normal, that you feel the silence only after the first few nights without a visit. They don’t visit every night, but they visit often enough that you know they’re off somewhere even without them telling you. For a couple of weeks you try to pretend the quiet doesn’t bother you, but you check the fire escape twice every night, and then once more before you go to bed.

~

The next time you see Bucky is during one of these checks. There was no tapping, no noise to otherwise alert you, he’s just suddenly back, sitting next to the window, hunched over in black clothes nearly blending into the darkness and staring out at nothing in the night.

“What’s wrong?” you ask and crawl out to kneel next to him. “Are you hurt again?”

“No,” he mutters and continues to glare at some imaginary point in the distance. “Steve was, though.”

It’s a little harder to swallow. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky mumbles and buries his mouth further against his arms. “He’s fine, strutting around the hospital like a- like a- …” He huffs and sits back to wave his arms before he curls back in on himself. “But it was close, and he’s an asshole.”

“Mm,” you say. “Chamomile mint?”

He sighs heavily but he gets to his feet and starts to enter, only to stop and hold open the curtains for you.

“Thank you sir,” you say with only a hint of sarcasm and go on ahead to get the tea started. Bucky snorts but doesn’t say anything and you use the time the water needs to heat up to take care of some of your plants.

“Stop it.”

The snap comes so fast from Bucky you immediately stop what you’re doing. He doesn’t look as angry as he sounded, but he’s frowning pretty hard. “You're overwatering that one; jade plants are succulents. You don’t need to drown it.”

You look at the plant and set the watering can down. “Oh.” You knew that. You think. You’re just nervous. “Did you see him? In the hospital?”

“Briefly. I didn’t talk to him; just made sure he was all right,” Bucky says. “And he is. I wouldn’t leave him if he wasn’t.”

That does assuage some of your concerns. Steve is nice. You want him to be okay. And Bucky is– also nice, but god, they’re both so fucking frustrating. “You couldn’t have just–”

“Don’t start with–”

“I’m just saying–”

“And I’m telling you not to say–”

“I pay the rent for all that you sublet my fire escape; I’ll say what I want,” you manage to finish to Bucky’s consternation. You lift your head proudly and he frowns to one side. And then he…smirks. You’re not sure you like that.

“Crappiest space in the city,” he says and sits up. “You could at least get a chair.”

You roll your eyes and dole out the tea, fixing it the way Bucky likes. No sugar for this one, but plenty of honey. “If I ever have to leave for an actual fire, I’ll be in enough trouble trying to get around you.”

“Nah. I’d carry you out,” Bucky says and lifts his cup in a silent ‘cheers.’ He takes a sip and the sigh sounds content, so you assume you did it right. For a few moments a comfortable silence settles between the two of you as you sip warm drinks surrounded by greenery (that is mostly green) and life goes on in faint sounds outside the confines of your home.

Bucky sets his empty cup down with a sigh. “Do you think, if I show up to throttle him, that he’ll actually start watching his own fucking back?”

You give that some serious thought. “Will you give him time to moon at you first?”

Bucky sighs with disgust and flumps back onto the counter. “This is stupid. This all feels so stupid.”

You open your mouth because you do have a lot of opinions about honest communication and using innocent civilian apartments to dance around each other, but Bucky shoots you a glare to let you know that a, he knows, and b, he doesn’t appreciate it. You roll your eyes and go back to drinking your tea. It is a very good blend, and you’re not going to let it go unappreciated because two early 20th century boys can’t get their shit together.

Not that you’re complaining, really– you’re starting to feel like less of a disaster by comparison. Or maybe letting two strange men into your apartment makes you just as bad by default. You rub the bridge of your nose. Yeah, no one is getting out of this looking sane. You feel like that should bother you more than it does, but it’s just a fleeting thought before you go back to worrying about Steve and pouring Bucky’s cup back to full.

~

The next night when someone knocks on your door, you’re only mildly surprised to see Steve on the other side. And most of that surprise is because you can see fading bruises on his face, and also because he is holding a fairly big potted plant with tall green and yellow-edged leaves.

“Hi,” he says and lifts the pot slightly. “I got you a present.”

“Uh, wow; thanks?” you say and quickly step back to let him in, momentarily forgetting he can probably carry it around with ease. Steve places the plant on the floor near the end of your couch, where it actually looks fairly nice. He gestures at it proudly. “It’s a snake plant. The man at the nursery said it’s very hard to kill.”

“You’re not funny,” you say but you look at it appreciatively. It is nice, and you could do with ‘hard to kill’. Speaking of– “Should you be up? You look like you should be in a hospital.”

He shrugs and his face goes neutral. “I’m healing well enough that there’s nothing a hospital could do for me. And I felt so…restless.”

You nod. “Want some tea?”

“Please. I really like what you make,” he says and immediately takes a seat at the counter. Oddly enough, it’s not the one Bucky always takes. You don’t realize you squint at the space for too long until Steve looks curious and asks, “Is everything okay?”

You squint at the countertop. “Yeah, just…trying to figure out if that’s a stain or a spot.”

Thankfully there is a spot of spilled something and you quickly grab a towel and wipe it away. You think it’s a pretty good save, but Steve looks at you with a raised brow, like he’s figured something out. You freeze. “What?” What are you going to say? How is he going to react? What will you–

“Was that a coffee ring?”

You blink a few times, and then roll your eyes as your chest practically deflates. He smiles and winks. “I can’t believe you.”

“I am a layered human being who can drink many things,” you say defensively. “And if you want coffee you’ll have to ask another time. I’m not giving you anything with caffeine in it when you look like you got hit by a truck.”

“Train,” he corrects absently. “It barely clipped me.”

You sigh and go for the sleepy blend. One of you is going to have to bow out of this conversation due to exhaustion and at this point you don’t care if it’s you. However it might truly come in handy as Steve keeps looking out the window and shaking his foot. You set the cup in front of him and before you can ask what’s wrong, he takes the cup in both hands and blurts out, “I think I saw him.”

You look at the window and squint. “Seriously?”

“Not here.” Steve rolls his eyes. Like you’re the crazy one. He blows gently across the surface of the liquid and says, “Though it’s strange you’d think I saw Bucky out of your window.”

“Isn't that why you started showing up here in the first place? I distinctly remember someone with a big red, white, and blue shield lurking on my fire escape.”

“Oh, right,” he admits sheepishly, hunched over his cup. His eyes glimmer with mischief as he looks up at you through long lashes and asks, “Did I ever apologize to you for that?”

You’re brought up short by the amount of boyish charm this giant walking wall of muscle manages to pack into that look and you have to find your tongue to say, “I– y-yeah…”

Steve chuckles to himself and you give yourself a mental slap on the face. “Troll,” you mutter and sip from your mug. The liquid is piping hot and burns your tongue, giving you an excuse to grimace when Steve flashes you a beautiful smile.

~

You’re in trouble.

Not physically, not immediately, and perhaps someone on the outside might say you’re being dramatic about it, but they wouldn’t know shit about the situation. They wouldn’t know about how your hands felt as they slid over Steve’s when he handed you a new small pot of flowers; they wouldn’t know about the feeling of serenity that settled over you when Bucky abandoned some of his oh so careful control and rested his head on your shoulder for four long seconds; they wouldn’t know how it feels like you’re missing something until someone shows up at your door or taps at your window.

You’re falling in love with two people who have always been, and still are, desperately in love with each other.

Isn’t that just your luck.

~

In the end, Bucky takes your advice more to heart than you ever expected he would– you and Steve are quietly enjoying each others’ company, with you standing in the kitchen and Steve sitting at the counter as per usual, when the curtains move dramatically for Bucky to slip in, which makes Steve whirl around, and your hands jerk so hard from all the sudden surprise that your cup slips out and crashes to the floor.

“Shi-” You forget to watch your step and immediately catch a jagged shard that embeds itself right under the ball of your foot. “Ow, fuck!”

Your name is said in different voices but very similar tones of alarm and you suddenly find yourself gathered into Bucky’s arms, bridal style, and he carries you over to the couch. “Wh-” You swallow at the close proximity to Bucky’s chest and the way he holds you so effortlessly but so securely. “I’m fine; it’s just a little–”

Bucky sits down on the couch and doesn’t move you, which means you are basically sitting cross-wise in his lap. This is not something you need after your recent revelation, and it doesn’t get any easier when Steve comes back with the heavy duty first aid kit Bucky got you and gingerly takes your foot to examine the injury. His sympathetic look towards you gives you the warning you need to brace yourself before he pulls the shard out. It doesn’t hurt too terribly and he’s almost tender as he cleans your foot.

“Look at us, matching blood and all,” Bucky says lightly.

“It’s my floor I’ll bleed on it if I want,” you grumble, but you’re too distracted by how focused Steve is on fixing you up. “You…seem to be taking this well.”

“I knew he had been here since the first time I came,” Steve admits as he rolls the gauze around your foot. “There was a bloodstain on your floor still.”

“Seriously?” You had thought Bucky was being overdramatic about the supposed stain and humored him, but it…makes sense. Why else would he come back the next night. Why else would Steve continue to come by. And because Steve had kept coming, Bucky had kept coming, and…they won’t need to come back anymore, will they? They now have what they’ve wanted. Each other.

Someone says your name and you force yourself back to neutral as much as you possibly can. Steve looks curious though and Bucky says, “What’s with that look?”

“There’s no look,” you say. “And if there is, it’s only because you two have devised the weirdest meet-cute ever– decades after you actually met.”

“Hm.” Bucky continues to stare at you, but doesn’t say anything else.

~

They come back. And they both use the door.

You don’t know what you’re more shocked by– that Bucky and Steve, having come back to each other, are still coming around to you, or that Bucky is actually walking through the designated threshold. You don’t have a lot of time to think about it though because the place is…a mess.

“What happened here?” Steve asks as Bucky’s shoulders go up to his ears and he looks around the place like he’s going to find something unpleasant.

“It’s not that bad,” you say and glance around. You’ve cleaned out a few of the pots already and stacked them away in the closet, but some of the plants are still…slightly alive, for a little while. A couple are even doing fairly well– one of which being the snake plant Steve got you.

“What happened to the jungle?” Bucky asks, looking around shrewdly. You don’t like the sound of that. It feels so…probing, and raises your hackles. Why should he care?

“I wasn’t keeping them alive for very long.” You flick a yellowing leaf and keep your tone light. “I just got tired of it. What are…what are you doing here?”

You don’t look at Steve, but he clears his throat and his tone is similar to Bucky’s when he asks, “Is now a bad time?”

“For what?” You square your shoulders and face them. Like an adult. Like an adult who had two other adults just sort of crash into their life one day and start sharing space until such time as the two window-crashers decided they…didn’t need to come around anymore. “I’m happy you both found each other. You didn’t have to come back.”

Steve looks…well, he looks hurt. You don’t know any other way to describe it; it doesn’t show in his face so much as in his eyes, in the feeling you get watching the line of his shoulders lower. But before he can say anything, before you can explain yourself, Bucky speaks up.

“It isn’t like that,” he says.

You look down. It’s easier than looking at a man who feels rejected, and a man who has you completely pegged.

“What?” Steve asks.

“It’s okay,” you say, in perhaps the biggest bald-faced lie you’ve ever told.

“That’s not– no,” Bucky insists and lifts your chin. His fingers are warm and gentle and linger too long.

You pull back from his touch before you can embarrass yourself further. “You guys were literally circling each other.”

“Please.” Bucky rolls his eyes. “I don’t need to keep coming back here to be near Steve. I know where he lives.”

“And I leave my window unlocked,” Steve says. He aims a cheeky grin at Bucky and adds, “Guess I should have left it open though.”

“Shut up,” Bucky tells him but looks at you and says, “Point is: we weren't using you.”

Steve blinks. “Oh– no, of course not!”

“It’s all right,” you say, trying as hard as you can to assuage their discomfort even though you can’t put much into it. Even though you did very much want this meeting to happen, somehow you don’t feel very ‘all right.’

“No,” Bucky says and takes your hand in his. The flesh hand, which he runs up to the middle of your forearm. His touch is gentle and light, even when he grips. You can break away, but you don’t– you let him pull you in, close and closer, until there’s barely any room between you.

Steve crowds from the side and puts one arm behind Bucky, and one arm behind you. “If you only think we’re here because of each other, then it’s not all right,” he says softly.

“I know it isn’t– I know you weren't ‘using’ m–” You swallow hard. “And I know it’s not–”

They both swoop in for a kiss– for a kiss with you. Somehow they avoid bumping heads and the lip-lip-lip contact is barely there, with Steve at the corner and Bucky barely catching one side of your upper lip, but they're both there for a glorious moment that leaves you stunned.

“Oh…” you say, dumbly. You try to fight it, but a smile pulls at your lips. “Oh.”

“That good already, huh?” Steve asks quietly, slowly forming a small smile of his own.

You let out a little sigh that is immediately undermined by an uncontrollable laugh that swells from a bubble of relief at the base of your throat. “Bucky’s right, you are insufferable,” you say but you reach out to sweep your fingers in a gentle touch down Steve’s cheek and under his chin.

“You get used to it,” Bucky says.

You think about that. Even with how you’ve been, entertaining these two rotating planets over the last however many weeks or months, this would be an entirely new normal.

You think you can’t wait to get used to it.

[jessikahathaway]

Baby Talk - Part II

Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)

Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)

Warnings: Profanity, medical procedures, pining (Like a stupid amount but what can ya do), Joon and Jin get protective, mentions of pregnancy symptoms. (If I forgot anything please let me know!)

Words: 10.5k (I guess I'm committing to long chapters lol)

You’d hit the four week mark, and not much had happened yet.

Despite you feeling like your hormones were on a swing.

Jimin was bewildered when he came into the bathroom to find you crying on the floor. Trying to comfort you went downhill quickly because soon you were mad that he was joking around. Then you were crying again, apologizing for being so harsh.

Up and down and up and down.

But they never got mad at you. Never yelled at you and never ignored you. But you forced your emotions down deep into your heart. A place that would be locked and the key thrown away. Because you knew what was happening, and it simply couldn’t happen.

It was late and you could feel your stomach begging for something to eat. You’d gotten really hungry lately, no doubt your body trying to accommodate for the new life you were growing inside of you.

So, you hurried to the kitchen under the guise of night and made some rice and a little bit of stir fry. You put together everything, making sure not to make too much, and started cooking.

It was around three in the morning when you sat down at the table and ate your food, looking through your phone with a bored expression. Nothing interesting on social media and YouTube videos were only entertaining for so long. So, you ate your food and cleaned up before starting to head back towards your room.

Then, a large flash went off in the sky, causing you to jolt and look out into the city. Rain was pelting against the window, sounding sharp to your ears. It was a little intimidating.

Then the loud crash of thunder rang through the house.

You yelped at the noise, covering your ears in fear. You’d never particularly liked thunderstorms, but this one was coming in hot and aggressive. You pulled your hands away from your ears, just trying to focus on getting back to your room when another flash lit up the room. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you started to sweat.

Before you could think too much about it you were knocking on Jungkook and Jimin’s door. Another crash of thunder roared through the house and you swear you felt the floor shake. You whimpered in fear and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. Did they hear you? Or was the storm too loud? Should you go in? What if they weren’t decent?

Jimin had said you could go in if something was wrong...

But did being scared of a thunderstorm count?

FLASH.

BANG.

You couldn’t take it anymore and you burst through the door with tears in your eyes. Fear causing you to shake violently.

Jimin and Jungkook both bolted up in bed at the sound of the door slamming open, and were out of bed instantly at the sight of you shaking on the floor.

“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Jungkook’s worried voice echoed in your ear.

“She’s trembling,” Jimin said, rubbing your back.

“I-I I’m sc-”

FLASH.

BANG.

You cried and flung your arms around Jungkook’s neck, burying your face in his chest, tears streaming down your face as you shook violently. Jungkook looked at Jimin in shock and a little bit of his own fear, but Jimin just took his hand and placed it on your head.

‘Comfort her,’ Jimin mouthed.

Jungkook nodded before rubbing your hip soothingly.

“What’s wrong Y/N? Is it the storm?” He asked, bringing his other hand to your shoulder.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, keeping your face buried in Jungkook’s neck.

“It’s alright, Jimin and I got you. You’ll be safe,” Jungkook promised.

Jimin rubbed soothing circles onto your back as the two of them tried to ease your frantic heart. Both of them knowing it can’t be good for the baby. But, also, on you. The stress of carrying a baby was already a lot, the fear of this thunderstorm wasn’t a good addition.

Soon, you had cried yourself to sleep.

Jimin took you in his arms, picking you up and Jungkook followed after him as they headed for your room.

The couple laid you down in bed, brushing your face tenderly. Jungkook watched as Jimin covered you up, bringing the sheets right up under your chin. He smiled at the soft pout on your lips, he wondered if the baby would have your cute pout.

Jimin, moved your hair away from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear gently. When he was certain you were settled he took Jungkook’s hand and headed back to their bedroom.

“God, that scared the fuck out of me,” Jungkook said, sitting down on the side of the bed.

“Me too,” Jimin agreed, rubbing his face in exhaustion.

“Didn’t know she was that scared of storms, makes me want to beat up the sky for scaring her like that,” Jungkook said, frowning.

Jimin laughed lightly, but kissed his boyfriend lovingly. “I know you would if you could, or at the very least, sue it,” he snorted.

“Ooh, yeah, that could work,” Jungkook said.

“I’d never seen her like that, so vulnerable. She always puts up such a tough exterior,” Jimin said, biting his lip.

“Yeah, maybe it shows that she’s starting to trust us. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to live with two people who are kinda strangers to her,” Jungkook said, feeling awkward.

“Well, maybe we can fix that,” Jimin reasoned.

“What do you have in mind my stunningly attractive boyfriend?” Jungkook asked, leaning forward.

“Mmm, let’s take her shopping. Spoil her a bit, you’ve got more zeros in your bank account than I can count on all of my fingers. She’s gonna need maternity clothes anyways. Imagine her all dressed in Gucci and Prada while walking around pregnant with our baby,” Jimin said, appearing to be day dreaming himself.

“That would be... nice... To spoil her, show her we care about her well being and everything,” Jungkook nodded in agreement.

“Let’s do it,” Jimin said, gripping Jungkook’s hands.

“Okay, yeah!”

Unfortunately for the couple, you appeared to be hating every second of this shopping excursion.

“Y/N! Come on,” Jungkook said, walking with Jimin’s hand interlocked with his.

“Coming, coming,” you sighed, following after them.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Do you need a break?” Jimin asked, stopping to take a look at you.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, sleepy,” you grumbled.

The boys had effectively cut off your caffeine intake as of late, and it was showing. You were more exhausted than ever, just wanting to sleep the day away, but the two men wanting to hear nothing of it today. Normally they would’ve just let you sleep, but, today was a different story.

Jimin bit his lip and looked at Jungkook with concern.

You didn’t seem to be having fun at all.

What was the point in spoiling you if you were just gonna wind up pissed off at the end of it? But maybe you just hadn’t found something you wanted yet. Jimin didn’t want to lose faith so early on, but you really were in a grumpy mood today.

Jungkook pointed out several different kinds of stores, suggesting different ones and you merely told them that whatever they wanted was fine. Feeling defeated already, Jimin told Jungkook to pick a store and maybe you’d find something you wanted in there.

Soon, you were in some high end designer store, looking around with a bored expression on your face. Most girls loved when you spoiled them, wanting nothing more than to have free reign with a credit card and a whole shopping mall. But you looked so fragile and out of place in this big store.

Jungkook looked around and found some things he wanted, Jimin too, but you were still sitting on the bench, head in your hand and looking tired.

The couple looked at each other, wondering what in the world they could do to make you smile. All they wanted to do was spoil you, make you feel better...

“Are you two with the young lady over there,” the store attendant asked, pointing at you with genuine curiosity.

“Ah, yes, she’s with us,” Jimin confirmed.

“I take it she’s not really into the whole shopping experience,” the attendant said, and the couple nodded sadly.

“We just wanted to spoil her, take her out and get her stuff she wanted. But it looks like she’d rather die than be here right now,” Jungkook said, frowning.

“Well, what are some things that she likes?” The shop attendant asked.

“Books,” both of them said quickly.

The attendant laughed at them softly, nodding.

“My wife is a fan of books too, sometimes I wonder if she likes them more than me. But, you said you want to spoil her right? Tell her that, explain what you’re doing, sometimes that helps,” he offered.

Jimin nodded, looking over at your sleepy figure in the corner of the store.

“It’s worth a shot,” he said.

The pair thanked the shop attendant for his time and headed towards you.

You looked up and tried to give the couple a smile, but it looked awkward and forced, making them frown even more. Jungkook sat down next to you, and Jimin kneeled in front of you.

“Y/N, do you know why we forced you out of your blankety cocoon today?” Jimin asked, looking at you with curiosity.

“You said you wanted to take me shopping,” you said, gazing back at him.

“Exactly, we wanted to take you shopping. Not just shop for ourselves and drag you around. We want to spoil you, give you whatever you want. All you have to do is ask and you can have it, Y/N, money isn’t an issue here,” Jimin said.

Biting your lip you felt yourself get uncomfortable. “I-I don’t really like being spoiled, you know? I um... It makes me feel weird,” you said, rubbing your neck.

“The last thing we wanted to do was make you upset,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“No I’m not upset I just feel awkward,” you explained.

“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward Y/N, it’s just us,” Jimin reassured.

“People keep staring at us, like I’m some lame friend third wheeling on a date,” you sighed, rubbing your face.

Jimin and Jungkook both swallowed hard.

They hadn’t realized people were staring. But it would make sense, Jimin and Jungkook were known in the city and suddenly a girl is walking around with them? That did seem a bit odd. They were also regulars in this mall and no doubt the staff were looking too.

God, they had messed this whole day up.

“Oh Y/N, we’re sorry,” Jungkook said, pressing his hands to his face.

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” You asked, turning to look at him with confusion.

“Not including you,” Jimin explained.

“There’s no need to include me-” you started when Jungkook cut you off quickly.

“Yes there is, you’re carrying our baby, we want you to feel comfortable and safe. Not ignored and shut out, that’s not fair to you,” he said, brushing his hair away from his face.

“Yeah, we want you to have whatever you want. As long as it isn’t unhealthy for you or the baby,” Jimin said.

“This isn’t about flexing or whatever on other people, this is about you. And what you want,” Jungkook said.

“Well,” you said, worrying your lip with your teeth.

“Yes?” Jimin said, leaning forward.

“It’s, well, I guess some new clothes wouldn’t be bad. I’ll need maternity stuff,” you told them.

“Yes! Absolutely! We can do that!” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you with him.

However, it was a little too fast for you, causing your head to spin. Jungkook was steadying you with his warm palms on your waist, Jimin keeping you upright with his hands around your wrists.

“Sorry Y/N! I-I wasn’t thinking and I got so excited, sorry,” Jimin frowned at himself.

“It’s alright,” you said, not wanting him to be upset over something that didn’t really matter.

“I need to be more gentle with you, you’re carrying our baby for Christ sakes,” Jimin huffed.

You nodded, noticing the stern look on Jimin’s face. Licking your dry lips, you looked down at your feet. You were only a month along so you couldn’t really see anything yet. But knowing there was a life inside of you made you feel a little flutter in your chest every time you thought about it.

However, you needed to get that under control.

This wasn’t your baby.

And that’s just how it was going to be.

Jimin and Jungkook had managed to drag you into a designer store for mothers apparently, because everything in here looked like it was worth a fortune. How were you supposed to pick something and wear it when you were afraid it was gonna get dirty? For fucksake you were almost certain they would be ruined by the end of this pregnancy.

“Ooh! Y/N, pink is your color,” Jimin smiled, holding up a rose colored blouse at you.

Looking down you saw small daisies printed on the shirt as well. It was cute, you had to give him that. You agreed to try it on, but only if he promised not to show you the price tag. Jimin nodded quickly.

Jungkook came around the corner, carrying a couple different articles of clothing. Mainly dresses, as they would be a comfortable and easy choice. But there were some skirts and blouses in his arms too. After finding the ones you liked the three of you were sent to the dressing rooms.

Jimin and Jungkook waited outside on the bench, demanding a fashion show from you. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t say no before you headed in and tried on a couple of outfits.

You walked out and did a little spin every time, Jungkook and Jimin giving their opinions. Which were always small claps with whistles accompanying them.

Then you walked out in a shorter green sundress that you had managed to grab on the shelf without looking at the tag, thank God. It was green with splashes of turquoise and white that made your eyes pop beautifully. There was a cutout at the top that showed a little bit of cleavage but it wasn’t an insane amount. Nothing you thought anything of anyways.

It came to your knees, and it was generous with the room in it. No doubt when you were showing it would come up to your mid thigh. Fluffing your hair you walked out and smiled at the boys. Jungkook’s eyes trailed down your body. This was the first non maxi dress you’d tried on, even the skirts had been considerably modest. So, they were getting the first glimpse at your skin.

Jimin was stunned.

You were absolutely gorgeous. A vision.

Legs looking gorgeous and long, skirt fluttering around your knees but Jimin couldn’t help imagine you when you were showing a little more. Would it ride up higher? Clearing his throat he smiles at you.

“It looks really good, Y/N, I didn’t pick this one. Did you Kook?” Jimin said, turning to his boyfriend, who seemed to still be in a stupor.

“Jungkook?” You said, looking at the doe eyed man with a little bit of worry pinching your features.

“Yes? No, it-you look amazing Y/N, did you pick this out?” He asked you.

“I did, yeah,” you answered.

“Little sneak, do you really want to stop our hearts?” Jimin teased.

Blushing you brushed your hair behind your ear and stared at your shoes. Jungkook looked at you with so much longing it made Jimin’s heart stammer. Not out of jealousy, but something else. Jimin shook the thought from his head.

Soon you were all settled back in the car, several shopping bags in the back. Jimin and Jungkook had requested a driver today, wanting to just enjoy the experience. So, the driver dutifully drove while the three of you sat in the back.

You looked out the window and watched scenery pass you by. Jimin and Jungkook looked at you, each with a similar look on their face and similar feelings in their chest. But neither of them were brave enough to admit it to themselves. Not when they almost had everything they’ve ever wanted, or what they thought they wanted...

Getting out of the car, Jimin asked the driver to have the bags delivered up to their apartment. The driver nodded before disappearing.

The three of you made your way up to the apartment, but not before Jimin and Jungkook spilled that they had a surprise for you. Looking at them with a menacing glare, Jungkook broke first as you three made it into the entryway of the apartment.

“It’s nothing crazy, just... We didn’t want you feeling like the third wheel or, you know, not a part of this. You are just as important to us as the baby you are carrying, and while you’re with us we want you happy and... so we got you this,” Jungkook said, holding out the signature blue box that made your stomach churn with how much it must’ve cost.

“Please, don’t ask how much it cost. It doesn’t matter as long as it makes you happy,” Jimin whispered.

Slowly, you opened the box and a beautiful moon pendant sparkling in diamonds and white gold stared at you. You damn near dropped the thing because of how gorgeous it was. Jungkook and Jimin froze on the spot when they saw tears starting to fall down your face.

“Do you not like it?” Jimin asked.

“Is it too much? Did we go overboard?” Jungkook worried.

“N-No, it’s beautiful,” you said, touching the pendant with a delicate finger.

“Do you want to put it on?” Jungkook asked, hoping to God that you didn’t throw this pendant back in their faces.

“Yes, please,” you said, handing Jungkook the back and brushing your hair out of the way so he had access.

Slowly, you watched as the beautiful moon swung just above your cleavage, kissing your chest lightly. It was fastened behind your neck and you turned around, looking at the two men with a bright smile on your face.

Then, they held up their wrists.

A sun and a star.

You looked and saw it was all a matching set.

“You guys, you really,” you said, smiling softly.

“Honestly, Y/N, you’re our equal in this. You aren’t just a womb we’re renting,” Jimin said. “You’re a person, with wants and feelings and we want you to feel that. More than anything, we want you happy and safe.”

“We’re so thrilled you chose us, seriously. If there’s anything you want, anything you need, name it, we’ll get it for you. Scouts honor,” Jungkook said, holding up his hand.

Feeling an overwhelming sense of emotion, more tears ran down your cheeks, making you sniffle and wipe at them with irritation. You didn’t want to cry right now, you were happy! Now, you just looked like a snotty red mess.

“Aw, don’t cry Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming forward to wipe your tears.

“God you guys are such turds, making me cry all the time,” you sniffled.

“It’s not our fault!” Jimin said.

“It is very much your fault,” you said, holding your stomach gently.

A rush of air left the two of them at you doing something so maternal. It made Jungkook’s blood burst into flames, and Jimin had to swallow a moan at the knowledge of you being pregnant with his baby. You cocked your head to the side and looked at the two silent men.

“Okay, well... Thanks for today you two... I’m glad I got to be spoiled a little bit. I’m gonna go take a shower, are we ordering out for dinner tonight?” You asked. They were still silent and you wondered what the fuck broke them when Jimin blinked rapidly a few times before clearing his throat.

“Y-You’re welcome, if you want to go again just tell us and we can,” he said, fighting to keep his calm exterior.

“Okay, I’m gonna go take a shower then,” you said again, taking off towards the stairs.

Jungkook damn near collapsed on the floor when you were finally gone.

“Jesus,” he said, panting hard.

“Do you, do you feel it too?” Jimin asked, gazing at the area where you had been standing.

“Yeah,” Jungkook croaked.

“Fuck what’s wrong with us? She’s here for us to care for her, to nurture her, not use her like some object,” Jimin said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

Jungkook rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe his boyfriend’s frantic thoughts. He agreed. You weren’t someone for them to use and abuse... You were the mother of their child and you deserved to be respected. But God if the thought of you didn’t send their minds spiraling.

“I know... We just gotta tough it out I guess. What else can we do?” Jungkook reasoned.

“I don’t know Kook, I don’t know,” Jimin said, gripping his boyfriend’s hand tightly.

—

The six week mark came and so did the morning sickness. To start, it was just waves of nausea, but soon it turned into full blown vomiting.

It was around seven in the morning and you had barely slept a wink. You felt jittery and restless, unable to relax. But when you sat up to head to the kitchen for something to eat, your stomach flipped. Soon, you were in the bathroom getting sick in the toilet.

Shortly you heard a knocking at the door.

“Y/N? Sweetie are you alright?” Jimin’s worried voice echoed through the door.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, trying to keep yourself from hurling again.

“Can I come in?” His light tone echoed through the room.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling another rush of nausea washing over you as he comes in. You looked and saw his worried face come into focus.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jimin said, rubbing your back as you got sick once more.

“Jimin? Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the apartment.

“We’re in the bathroom Kook!” Jimin yelled.

Shortly Jungkook’s footsteps came into the bathroom. He was frowning, knowing you must be uncomfortable and there wasn’t much he could do for you. Watching Jimin rub your back gave him a sense of comfort however.

You were struggling with your chest being tender also. Every time you moved against the toilet you felt a jolt of pain go down your spine. Wincing when you came back up, Jimin had gotten you a little cup of water. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out and standing up slowly, per Jimin’s instructions.

You brushed your teeth and told the boys you were alright. They left and you did the rest of your morning routine. Jimin came back into your room and asked if you were ready for breakfast. You nodded and let Jimin lead you to the kitchen table. Jimin, taking note of your poor start to the day, asked if you wanted anything in particular for breakfast. Thinking back you really enjoyed the Nutella and banana toast he made for you a while back.

He nodded and started the toaster quickly. Jungkook had been working overtime recently and had to leave shortly after your bathroom incident. Soon, two pieces of Nutella toast with bananas were placed in front of you.

But the second the smell of banana hit your nose, you were scrunching up your face in disgust. Jimin looked at you with confusion. Then it dawned on him: food sensitivity.

Quickly removing the plate he asked if anything else sounded good, and you came up with the weird combination that was scrambled eggs with cream cheese.

Jimin looked on with a light smile on his face as you scarfed down the eggs and cream cheese without a single nose scrunch. It always made him happy to see you eating. Keeping up your health for the sake of the baby and you made him happy.

Soon, you were done and Jimin had gone into the living room to watch some TV when you noticed him sitting there. Lounging on the couch was a normal thing, but, looking at him now you-you couldn’t put your finger on it. He just looked so good, sitting there. He’d recently redid his hair so it was a beautiful blond color. His eyes wandered from the television to you, standing there in your loose t-shirt and pajama shorts.

He licked his lips for a moment, but that was all it took for you.

The flash of his tongue made you slightly weak in the knees, causing you to grip the edge of the table for support. Jimin seemed to mistake this for a more serious problem as he was up in a matter of seconds to come to your side.

“Y/N? What’s the matter?” He asked, looking at you with concern.

“I-I’m good,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. “I think I just ate too fast.”

Jimin mulled this over in his head for a moment before nodding and stepping back.

“As long as you’re okay,” he said, heading back towards the couch.

But your symptoms weren’t just limited to food sensitivity, morning sickness and random bouts of arousal, oh no... The best one was the nightmares that had taken over your sleep schedule.

Normally they were just vague things that you forgot about when you woke up. But they were becoming more vivid. More, unsettling.

You were dreaming being in pools of blood, sometimes it was yours, sometimes it belonged to the boys. Sometimes you didn’t know where it came from, but it was always there. Never to be washed away, only to drown in...

You were caught up in the throes of a particularly bad nightmare...

You’d miscarried and lost the baby, Jimin and Jungkook were heartbroken and left you bleeding out on the floor as you stared up into the ceiling, dying.

The room was tilted and everything was wobbly.

You tried to go after them, to ask for another chance. But it was too late, they were gone.

Screaming, you bolted up in your bed. Tears flowing down your cheeks at a rapid rate. Your heart was hammering in your chest so loud you swore you could feel it in your throat.

You heard the slamming of a door and soon Jimin and Jungkook barged into your room, looking around frantically until they found you on your bed, shaking and crying into your hands.

“Y/N!” They yelled, going to your sides and trying to get you to talk to them.

“Sweetie, what happened? Why did you scream?” Jimin asked, petting your hair trying to soothe you.

“I-I had a nightmare, I-I lost the baby and, then lost you two,” you whimpered, covering your face again.

Jungkook swallowed thickly, the image of you crying being burned into his memory. He hated seeing you like this. It hurt him to see you so distraught. Jimin, too, was struggling with your emotions. He just wanted you happy and healthy, free from any worry and troubles of the real world. But of course, he couldn’t protect you from everything and everyone. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re right here, we aren’t going anywhere,” said Jungkook. You were crying violently, looking at the bed spread with blurred vision. Jimin looked at Jungkook with worry written all over his features, your smaller frame sat shaking in the bed as the two males tried to comfort you.

Jungkook hesitantly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. You looked up at the man with puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, before glancing back down at your lap.

“You aren’t going to lose us, Y/N,” Jimin reassured.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, so broken that it had both of their eyes tearing up at the sound.

“It’s alright, we’re scared too,” Jimin said, patting your hair gently. “But we’ll get through this.”

“There was so much blood,” you whimpered, biting your lip trying to keep the sobs from coming out.

“Y/N,” Jungkook said, feeling his eyes burning with unshed tears of his own.

“I was dying and you just... left me there,” you confessed.

“We could never leave you just like that Y/N, ever,” Jimin said, sounding shocked.

“We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you,” Jungkook whispered.

Jimin grabbed his hand, rubbing his fingers over the knuckles. He knew seeing you like this was hard on both of them, and knowing how much you truly didn’t think they cared was also hurtful. Because all they wanted was to tell you you didn’t have to leave... But it couldn’t work like that.

Jimin’s work as a high end therapist was already wobbly because of his relationship with Jungkook. As unfortunate as it is, people didn’t want his help if he was dating a fellow man.

And Jungkook had already been shamed for his love publicly, the gossip forums on the newspaper and websites having a hay day with his image. He’d worked so hard to show he wasn’t any different than a straight man when it came to his work. But, the world is a cruel place, and social norms often reared their ugly heads with Jungkook.

They couldn’t drag you into that cesspool of nasty comments and uncomfortable encounters. It was a harsh reality, but it was the one you were all living in. And there wasn’t anything they could do about it.

Jungkook wanted to scream about how it was unfair. How you sitting here with them wasn’t wrong, as long as you all cared about one another, how could it be? But they both knew how this would end.

With you walking out of their lives and your child’s life, forever.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you hiccuped, swallowing down the rest of your tears.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Jimin said, rubbing your shoulder.

“If something’s wrong we want you to tell us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with misty eyes.

“I-I will,” you said, wiping your face.

“Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?” Jimin asked, looking at your state with concern.

“I should be able to,” you said, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

“We can stay with you, until you’re asleep,” Jungkook offered before even thinking. Jimin’s head snapped to the younger male, who was already shrinking.

“W-Would you?” Your soft voice spoke up.

Jimin nodded finally, crawling into the bed with you and Jungkook following suit. They each took a hand and held it tightly. Jimin drew different shapes and patterns on your palm, making you giggle when it tickled. Jungkook interlocked your fingers together, running his thumb over your soft skin like Jimin did with him when he was nervous or scared.

Sooner, rather than later, you were passed out once more, hands clutching Jimin and Jungkook’s.

The men managed to untangle themselves from you as they went back to their room, hearts heavy. When the door shut, Jungkook burst into tears.

“Oh my sweet boy, don’t cry,” Jimin said, wiping his boyfriend’s cheeks carefully.

“Jimin,” he said, forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder.

“I know, it hurts me too,” Jimin whispered.

“I just want her to know that she’s not just a convenience, she’s so much more than that,” Jungkook whimpered.

“Yeah,” Jimin said, thinking of your body curled up on the couch with a good book and a warm drink next to you. Your smile when your favorite song comes on in the car. The way you’re already so protective over the baby.

“I don’t know if it’s because she’s carrying our baby or what, but, I want to be closer to her. I want to know everything about her... God I don’t know what to do with myself Jimin,” Jungkook complained, wiping at his tears in frustration.

“We just gotta keep it in our mind that she had a life before this, and she’ll have a life after it too. S-She’s doing this because we’re paying her Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the only reason but, it is the main one,” Jimin reminded his boyfriend, and himself.

Even though the words felt hollow in the air.

“I guess,” Jungkook said.

“You’ve got work early, we need to go back to bed,” Jimin said, motioning for Jungkook to get into bed as well. The two men cuddled up to each other, each feeling like something, or someone, was missing...

--

Faster than you thought possible, the ten week mark had come.

It was time to get your first ultrasound of the pregnancy.

The boys were over the moon about the whole thing. Excitedly chatting in the car.

“I hope we can see the baby well,” Jungkook said, driving carefully through the street.

Jimin hummed in agreement. “Me too, the baby is still super small right now. About the size of a prune but, we’ll still be able to see them on the screen. And, we can hear their heartbeat!”

You smiled at their excitement. Bringing your fingers up you brushed the pendant they gave you, a nervous habit you’d picked up shortly after their gifting it to you. Jungkook looked at you in the rearview, playing with the sparkling jewelry piece. It made his chest feel tight, looking at you. Jimin placed a hand on his, making Jungkook focus on him for a moment.

Jimin shook his head and Jungkook swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what he meant.

Soon, you were all at the clinic.

Jimin helped you out of the backseat, getting your bag and whatnot so you didn’t have to fuss with it. Jungkook placed a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you into the building.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at the action, having to cover up your blushing with a cough. Jimin urged you to sit down while he got the paperwork, something you didn’t fight him on. You were exhausted as of late.

The boys reassured you it was normal to be tired. You knew, however, that you were a little more tired than normal. Briefly you wondered if it was because it was your first time and you’d never felt something like this. However, that didn’t sit right. You knew there was something going on, but you didn’t want to worry the boys. Especially since you were getting an ultrasound today.

Sitting next to Jungkook in the waiting room, he made small talk. Asking how you were feeling and if the morning sickness had gotten any better.

“It’s gotten worse,” you complained, leaning your head back in the seat.

“Really? Maybe we can ask the doctor to prescribe something for you,” he said.

“It should be going away soon, I’ll be alright,” you reassured, patting his knee.

“Sometimes it doesn’t go away until the baby is born, I just don’t want you to suffer if we can do something about it,” Jungkook said softly.

“If it gets too bad, I’ll say something. Okay?” You said, keeping a gentle smile on your face.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.

Jimin came back and took Jungkook’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. Jimin had a habit of tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s hands when he was nervous, it made you smile.

Eventually a nurse called your name and led you back to the ultrasound room. Jungkook smiled and sat down in the chair provided. Jimin helped you up onto the table and the ultrasound tech went over what they would be looking for and opened it up for questions.

When no one had any, she proceeded.

“Okay, I just need you to pull the front of your pants down a little bit,” the tech asked, prepping the machine.

You immediately turned and looked at Jungkook and Jimin, then down at your stomach. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a little bit anyways.

Without much more thought you pulled your pants so just the top of your panties were showing. Jungkook’s eyes widened at your actions, but he tried to keep a calm exterior. Jimin kept his eyes trained on the screen, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.

The ultrasound gel was cold, making you jump when it came in contact with your skin. But soon it was warming to your skin and you all looked at the screen with rapt attention.

“Alright so we should see the head and curvature of the body, but other than that this is just to make sure that everything is looking good in the uterus and to see if there are any abnormalities with the baby-oh! Babies it appears,” the tech said, a big smile on her face.

“What?” Jimin said.

“There’s another head there, if you look right here,” she pointed at the screen. “Looks like you’ve got a set of twins in there!”

Jungkook’s eyes teared up, looking down at your stomach with his heart in his throat.

You were stunned.

Twins?

The first try?

Wow, you really did win the lottery.

“Oh my God,” Jimin said, hiding his face in Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Way to go, got those twins first try,” you said, trying to keep your nerves under control.

“It’s all thanks to you Y/N, we couldn’t do it without you,” Jungkook reminded.

“Are you guys going to want the pictures?” The tech asked. Jimin and Jungkook of course said yes.

“Wow, look at their heads babe!” Jimin yelped as you all walked out of the clinic together. Jimin was still cooing over the pictures of the twins from the ultrasound.

“I need to put it in my wallet,” he said, bringing out the accessory shortly after.

You smiled at their excitement. You were beyond happy, you’d done it. Gave them the twins they desperately wanted. First try too. You knew that meant a few more complications, but, you didn’t want that to hold too much weight over you.

“We should call Namjoon and Jin! Tell them the news about the twins!”

You nodded quickly, wanting to tell your friends the update.

Namjoon and Jin were thrilled, obviously. Insisting that they’ll give Annie to Jin’s parents for the night so you could all get together and have a meal. Agreeing, the boys set it up for around seven thirty.

“Dress nice! I also expect to see those ultrasound pictures!” Jin said through the phone.

You snorted and shook your head, gently touching your stomach. You felt a fluttering in your chest, like you were standing on the edge of a tall building or something. It made you gasp lightly, moving your hand away from your belly to your chest. Jimin seemed to notice your movement because he was turning around in his seat.

“Everything alright there?” He asked, looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes.

“Y-yeah, I’m good. We’re-good,” you said, pointing to your tummy. Jimin’s eyes lit up at the mention of the babies.

“Okay, tell me if you need anything,” he said, turning around and facing the front once more.

You all walked back into the apartment, Jungkook still gushing about everything. You simply smiled and went to go get ready for dinner.

Jin did say to look nice, so you picked out a few things from your shopping excursion a while back. Putting on a dress that looked skin tight but it was super stretchy, so no doubt you could wear it late into the pregnancy. The zipper on the back would be an issue but, it made you feel a little sexy. You hadn’t really done a lot in regards to your appearance around the boys, you didn’t see the need.

But, it wouldn’t hurt to do your hair and dress nicely...

You had the perfect shoes to pair with the dress. You grabbed some stockings and a few other small pieces of jewelry, placing them on the bed while you assembled everything together the way you wanted it.

Eventually, you were all set.

Except for the zipper on the back.

You didn’t understand why there was a zipper on such a stretchy dress, but fashion has its ways you guess. Reaching behind you proved unsuccessful. Quickly growing frustrated, you did the following without thinking.

“Jimin? Jungkook? Can one of you come here for a second please?”

Once the words were out, you immediately wished you could eat them.

But the damage had been done.

Both men walked in your room.

Jimin’s jaw dropped open, looking at you in awe.

You were in knee high stockings, low heels and a slinky black dress that hugged your body so perfectly it made him want to drop to his knees. Jungkook fared no better. Seeing your hair styled and a little bit of makeup on your features really enhanced your natural beauty. They both were staring, making you shrink in embarrassment.

“O-Okay, you can blink any time now,” you said, chuckling to ease the tension in the room.

“You look... wow,” Jimin breathed.

“Incredible. You look incredible,” Jungkook said, eyes trailing down your legs.

“Thank you, but, um... Could one of you please come zip me up? I can’t reach the zipper,” you said, turning your back to them fully.

Jungkook stared at his boyfriend with an almost agonized look on his face. Jimin nodded and walked forward, brushing your hair out of the way. Placing a gentle hand on your hip Jimin pulled the zipper up to the top, covering each inch of your beautiful skin.

Jungkook swallowed his noise of protest, trying to remember what Jimin had said. You weren’t an object for them to use, you were their surrogate. The woman who would be birthing their twins. And then leaving...

Jimin knew if Jungkook had walked forward to zip up your dress he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. Jimin wasn’t doing that hot either to be honest. Your hips flared out. Looking so beautiful hugged in the dress, and the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips was... alarming.

“Thank you,” you said, turning around with a smile on your face.

Jimin couldn’t help but mirror your grin.

“Absolutely, are you ready to go now?” He asked, trying to keep from getting distracted any more.

“Yeah, let’s go! I want Jin to feed me so much I burst,” you said, heading towards the door. Once you were gone, Jungkook looked at Jimin.

“This is only getting harder,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.

“Are you going to be alright?” Jimin questioned, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Yeah, just... This feels wrong,” Jungkook whispered.

“What feels wrong?” Jimin asked.

“Keeping her at arm's length, I just feel awkward. Pushing her away when she’s doing something so big for us, it’s really emotionally charged and... I feel like a jerk for treating her like just another person. Like she isn’t special,” Jungkook explained, brushing his hair out of his face.

“I understand,” Jimin said, trying to smooth the frown lines from Jungkook’s face.

“Boys? Are you coming?” Your voice echoed through the house.

“Coming!” Jimin said. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

—

The dinner at Jin and Namjoon’s was beyond anything you’d expected.

There was so much food and honestly, you ate a lot. Lying back in your chair, tilting your head back you sighed. Rubbing your stomach unconsciously. But the boys noticed everything. Especially how amazing you looked in that outfit.

It was just about all they could do to keep their hands off of you. Jungkook was fidgeting the whole night, being the one who sat next to you. He really tried to keep his cool, but a man could only take so much.

“So, Y/N, how does it feel to be pregnant with twins?” Namjoon asked, taking a small bite of rice.

“Honestly? It’s not been a cake walk, let me tell you. My mood swings are everywhere, my chest is killing me, food is either a hit or miss and don’t get me started on how arou-ahem,” you froze at your brazen attitude. Jimin and Jungkook’s heads snapped at your statement, looking at you with masked emotions. “Sorry, got carried away. Anyways, it’s been wild. But, I’m really glad to be doing it, you know? The boys take good care of me,” you praised, smiling at the two of them now.

Namjoon noticed it first.

The twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes at your words. How genuinely happy he seemed listening to you talk. Jimin’s body language was always engaged with you, never closing off or making it appear like he wasn’t interested.

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

This would need to be discussed...

Soon, everyone was sitting in the living room, just digesting. When you got up and said you had to use the restroom.

When the men were alone, Namjoon attacked.

“What are you guys doing?” He asked, looking at the two younger men with worry in his features.

“What do you mean?” Jimin quizzed right back.

“Listen, I’ve been friends with Y/N for a long time. I really care about her and want only the best for her. I also want you guys to be happy and healthy and have your own family, so please don’t take what I’m about to say personally but-what the fuck?” He asked.

“What do you mean what the fuck?” Jungkook asked.

“Why are you looking at her like that?” Namjoon asked, feeling his frustration rise.

“Like what?!” Jimin argued.

“Like you-Like you, are all, like... a couple?” Namjoon said, feeling the awkward tension rising in the room.

“What?” Jungkook coughed.

“We aren’t together,” Jimin said slowly.

“But do you want to be?” Namjoon asked.

Jungkook broke first.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, placing his head in his hands. Jimin was quick to comfort the younger male, rubbing his back in big, soothing circles.

“It’s a new experience for us. We just want her to be happy and healthy and safe. You know, take care of her,” Jimin explained, skirting around the question.

“Of course, but, there’s a difference between appreciation and affection,” Jin said, speaking up.

“Y-Yeah, we know that,” Jimin answered. “I’m a therapist, I know what emotions are.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“If you know what emotions are then why are you denying your own?” he asked.

“I’m not!”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon challenged.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jimin growled.

“What’s all the angry whispering out here for?” You asked, walking back into the room. The energy snapped within an instant.

“It’s alright, just a heated debate about politics,” Namjoon joked, giving you a tender smile.

“Oookay?” You said, coming back in to sit down next to Jungkook, who was trying his best to not squirm when your thigh brushed his.

The rest of the night moved rather calmly, but not without a fierce monopoly game that almost caused a few table flips. Jungkook wound up losing and threw a mini tantrum. But it was quickly smoothed over when you promised you’d bake him some cookies the next time he had a day off.

While Namjoon and Jin were cleaning up, Jungkook and Jimin discovered your sleeping frame on the couch once more. Breaths coming in even and slow, they smiled at you. Your lips were pouting lightly, something they’d discovered was a habit when you were sleeping.

And Jungkook adored it.

He came over to your side and tried to wake you up, but when you whined and fussed he decided it would just be easier to carry you to the car. Carefully, the strong young man lifted you into his arms and towards the door. Jimin got the rest of your things all together and they thanked Jin and Namjoon for the meal and night.

But before they left, Namjoon grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. Jungkook waited, looking back in worry. Jimin waved him on, saying he’d be there in a minute. Jungkook nodded before heading out the door.

“What?” Jimin asked.

“I’m sorry about earlier, I overstepped. I didn’t mean to offend you or Jungkook. It’s just, Y/N is very inexperienced when it comes to love and emotions and having that connection. I’m worried about what’s happening to her. I don’t want her to get her hopes up and be crushed later on,” he explained.

Jimin nodded his head.

“I accept your apology. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle either, Jungkook and I have been... Discussing it. But it’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, we aren’t sure what we feel for her... We know we care about her, but is it because she’s our surrogate and we want to care for her? Or is it something deeper? We don’t know,” Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

“Y/N is so special. She gives without thinking, she is so dedicated to those she cares about... she’d give the shirt off her back to someone she didn’t even know. It’s hard not to love her, but... she doesn’t deserve to be pulled in a million different directions either. But you all deserve to be happy, I’m always here if you need to talk,” Namjoon offered.

Jimin smiled lightly. “That’s normally my line.”

“You guys are good people, I wouldn’t have recommended Y/N do this if I didn’t trust you. But, just... please don’t take advantage of her heart. And don’t lie to yourselves either.”

Jimin nodded, looking down at the floor with a resolute nod.

“Thanks, both of you,” Jimin said, giving a small wave before heading out towards the car. Jungkook already had you buckled and settled in.

“What was that about?” Jungkook asked, getting into the front seat.

“He wanted to apologize for earlier, he felt like he overstepped. And, he wanted to explain why he was so defensive over Y/N,” Jimin said.

Jungkook nodded and started the car, taking off down the road.

“Why is he so protective? Did they like, date in the past or something?” Jungkook asked. Jimin shook his head.

“N-No, Y/N hasn’t ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend,” Jimin said, resting his head in his hand.

“What? Really?” Jungkook balked. Trying to think of how someone like you hadn’t ever been snatched up before. You were a total catch! But, you did tend to keep to yourself.

“Yeah, she told me about it the day she had her IUI done,” Jimin explained.

“Oh, so-wait. She’s having a baby when she’s never, like, had sex?” Jungkook said. “Is that safe?”

“I mean I’m sure it’s safe but, she’s not... Um, she told me she’s had sex before,” Jimin said.

“Wow, how did this all come up?” Jungkook asked.

“Well, she mentioned something about wanting someone who looked at her the way we look at each other,” Jimin blushed.

“She’s so cute,” Jungkook groaned. “Well, at least she’s been with someone before. You know, had that kind of pleasure.”

Jimin coughed, rubbing his neck. Jungkook looked at him weirdly.

“What?”

“She may have off-handedly mentioned that she’s never, uh... You know, finished,” Jimin flushed. Jungkook looked floored at the information.

“You mean to tell me, that some jerk took her virginity and didn’t fucking make it special? What a fucking tool bag,” Jungkook growled.

“I don’t know the story, she didn’t divulge that kind of information. I was the one who guessed she’s never finished, and she was pretty embarrassed about it all to be honest,” Jimin said.

“That is so frustrating,” Jungkook said.

“Yeah.”

The car was quiet, save for your soft little snores coming from the back seat.

“Did you hear what she said during dinner?” Jimin asked. “When she was talking about her pregnancy symptoms.”

“Yeah...” Jungkook trailed off.

“I wish we could do something for her, I feel so bad,” Jimin whispered.

“We can be there to support her but we can’t over step either,” Jungkook said.

“I know, normally I’m the one reminding you of that,” Jimin huffed.

“I understand it’s not easy for either of us,” Jungkook said softly.

“Maybe we just need a god romp in the sheets to get it out of our system hmm?” Jimin teased, running a hand up Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help the hiss that came out of his mouth at the touch. They hadn’t really been active in that way since you’d come into the house.

“Y-You know how loud I get,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.

“Oh I’m very aware how loud I can make you scream,” Jimin winked.

“Stop, I’m already hard,” Jungkook whined.

“I bet you are baby,” Jimin said, squeezing his boyfriend’s thigh tight.

“Stop, please,” Jungkook whined.

“Mmm,” Jimin said, not sensing that Jungkook really wanted him to stop. “And what if I keep going baby? What if I snuck my hand into your pants and tugged your pathetic little cock until you came huh? Make you come all over your expensive pants and make you lick it up?”

“Jimin,” Jungkook said, cock straining against his pants.

“Yes baby? What does my baby want, huh?” Jimin asked, so sweet... Almost dangerous.

“I-I want-”

“Mmm, are we home yet?” You voice perked up from the back seat.

“Y/N?” Jimin asked, turning to look at you. Your eyes were bleary from sleep and it was obvious you must’ve just woken up. Jungkook adjusted himself in the seat, trying to hide his throbbing erection from your sight.

“Yeah?” You said, blinking slow.

“Sweetie,” Jimin cooed, brushing a few strands of your hair back from your face, even though it was an awkward angle for him.

“Jungkook are you okay?” You asked, noticing how tense the young man’s posture was.

“I-I’m good,” he said, trying to hide his arousal.

“Okay,” you said, laying your head back down.

Jungkook pulled the car into the front slot of the building, handing the keys over to the valet. The two of them brought you out of the car and Jimin decided it was his turn to carry you up to the apartment. So, the three of you all made it to the apartment in silence.

You were awake, but you weren’t feeling too terribly chatty. Sleep still at the forefront of your mind. Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t spoken since you got out of the car, and you can’t help but feel like you were in the middle of something kinda intense. The charged feeling in the room making you shift against Jimin’s chest.

He looked down at you, trying to keep himself from jostling you too much. You were exhausted. But soon, you felt bile rising in your throat...

“Jimin put me down,” you said, holding your hand to the mouth. Just as he set you down you scrambled to the bathroom and threw up the massive dinner you’d eaten. Jimin and Jungkook were rushing right after you. Jungkook brought your hair away from your face. Jimin sat down next to him to rub your back.

You got to the point where you were just dry heaving into the toilet, but it didn’t seem to end.

“Oh fuck,” you croaked, coughing hard.

“You want some water?” Jimin asked.

“No, I’m scared I’ll just throw that up too,” you whined.

“It might be better than just dry heaving,” Jimin said.

“You got a point,” you huffed, trying to keep your head from spinning.

“I’ll get you some,” he said, moving off the floor to head towards the kitchen. Jungkook shuffled forward, kind of molding his front to your back. When you pushed a little too hard against him you felt it. Wondering what it could be for a moment you pushed back against him again, when he groaned in surprise.

“U-Um, Jungkook?” You squeaked.

“S-Sorry!” He said, moving away faster than the speed of light.

“I-It’s okay, just, you know,” you flushed.

“It’s not because of you! It’s not uh, I wasn’t um,” he stuttered.

“I-I didn’t think it was?” You said, more of a question.

“It’s not that you’re not pretty or anything it’s-”

“No, I get it,” you said, smiling weakly.

“Y/N-”

“Here’s your water,” Jimin said, bringing in a glass for you to drink.

You sipped it slowly. Not paying attention. Jungkook looked like he was going to die in the corner, which made Jimin shoot him a weird look. He just shook his head as he covered his face. Jimin made a mental note to question him about it later, but his concern was on you right now.

“Have you been getting sick a lot?” Jimin asked, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.

“I mean, it’s mainly in the morning. I think I just ate too much at dinner,” you said, pouting lightly.

“Gotcha, do you feel like you’re going to get sick again? Or do you think you’re done?” He asked.

“I-I think I’m good,” you said, putting the empty glass down.

“Are you sure?” Jimin asked, making you look at him.

“Mhmm,” you confirmed, eyes getting droopy again.

“Alright sleepyhead, brush your teeth and go to bed. Need help getting up?” Jimin worried, fussing over you like any father to be would.

You stood up slowly, mindful of your dizzy head. But, when you stood at the sink you felt everything kinda snap into focus. Jimin dragged Jungkook out of the bathroom to let you do your thing, but told you to come get them if you needed anything.

Hurrying into the bedroom, Jimin narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.

“Why did you look like you’d rather crawl into an overflowing storm drain than be in that bathroom? What happened when I was getting water?”

Jungkook looked up at Jimin could see the embarrassment on his face. Sighing, Jimin sat down, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s back.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you in the car. It’s just, been a while you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” Jimin apologized.

“Y/N felt it, my... When you moved me so you could get out of the bathroom to get her the water, she was pushed up against me. And, she pushed back against me and felt my dick against her,” Jungkook said, rubbing her face.

“Oh, that is... uh, awkward,” Jimin agreed.

“It gets worse,” Jungkook said.

“What do you mean?” Jimin asked.

“I-I told her it wasn’t because of her and then I tried to tell her it’s not that she wasn’t pretty and I just threw up a bunch of words that didn’t make sense and then you were back,” Jungkook whimpered.

Jimin sighed. Jungkook had never been a genius with words, but normally he was better than that. He knows that Jungkook is mortified, Jungkook wasn’t good at mingling or recovering from blunders of the social variety. So, Jimin just sighed and gave his boyfriend a gentle kiss.

“It’s okay Jungkook, Y/N isn’t gonna hold this against you,” Jimin soothed.

“I just feel terrible,” Jungkook said softly.

“Why? It was an accident,” Jimin reasoned.

“Because I-I didn’t want her to stop,” he swallowed. Jimin bit his lip and tried to keep his anger from spilling over.

“I don’t know how many times we have to talk about this Jungkook,” Jimin said.

“We were talking about it in the car! But we’ve never talked about what we want, what we’re doing now, it's not sustainable. I’m going crazy!” Jungkook yelled.

“Jungkook keep your voice down!” Jimin reminded.

“Jimin I’m so fucking confused, I don’t know what we’re doing. What I’m doing. I-I do know one thing for certain. I love those kids, so much, and they aren’t even here yet. I love them so much, because they’re ours... But... I can’t keep doing this. Getting closer only to rip myself away, it’s killing me Jimin. If you want me to walk away, I will but, I just can’t keep giving myself hope when there isn’t any,” Jungkook cried, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I-I didn’t know you were so broken up over this,” Jimin whispered.

“I’m so confused,” Jungkook whispered.

“I am too, I love you so much but... I feel this connection to her. I know it’s normal to be grateful, but, I know it’s more than that with her,” Jimin said, moving to give Jungkook a back hug.

“Then we need to make a decision,” Jungkook said.

“You want to pursue her as a part of our couple? Like, make her our girlfriend?” Jimin asked.

“Do you?” Jungkook asked back.

“I mean... I wouldn’t be opposed,” Jimin said softly.

“I don’t want this if you don’t,” Jungkook said, turning to look at Jimin with sparkling eyes.

“I want this... I want her, but, we need to give her some time, as well as ourselves to come to terms with this,” Jimin reasoned.

“Okay,” Jungkook agreed.

“But, when we’re both ready, we can approach her,” Jimin said.

“Would this be healthy to do? I mean, mentally,” Jungkook asked.

“Polygamous couples generally tend to have better communication than the average two person couples. And with one of us being a therapist I think we could manage. I-I want to work towards that,” Jimin confessed.

“I want this too,” Jungkook said excitedly.

“Then that’s what we’ll do...”

You laid in bed late into the night. You heard Jungkook and Jimin having a disagreement. You couldn’t make out the words but, the walls were thin... You prayed to God that it wasn’t about you, or anything related to the children.

Slowly, your hand trailed down to your stomach. You didn’t think you could see a bump yet, but maybe a little something? You weren’t sure, maybe it was just wishful thinking.

You moved slightly, and you felt something in your underwear. Adjusting lightly, you pulled them down to look, and you saw a decent amount of arousal soaking into the cotton fabric. Blushing bright red you reached down to touch your hot center, to find that you were, in fact, dripping wet.

Biting your lip you thought back on the bathroom incident. Jungkook’s firm body pressed against yours, his hardened cock pressed against your ass, the hot groan he let out. Running your fingers over your slit, you gathered your slick and pushed against your clit gently.

Shockwaves of pleasure ripped through you at the sensation.

“Oh!” You gasped, hand coming up to cover your mouth in fear of waking the boys.

You did it again, causing your body to jump slightly, making more of your arousal drip from your center. Licking your lips you thought about what Jungkook’s hands would feel like instead of yours. What his body would feel like pressed up against yours naked... Jimin’s plump lips flashed through your mind for a second, making you wonder what his blond head would look like between-

No!

No no no no no!

Ripping your hand away from your weeping core you turned over and placed your hands on your head.

How could you? Those two weren’t something to fuel your lonely fantasies! They are in love with each other, and are going to have a family... Albeit you had to help with that part but, still. Jimin and Jungkook weren’t yours... They were each other’s...

But as much as you tried to tell yourself that it would never happen...

You couldn’t help but dream of the two men’s hands running over your body...

Hot breaths touching your ears...

Taglist: @kittkat44, @giadalin, @kookachuwu

If you want to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask!

[the-bau-quinjet]

Plum Cobbler

Steve x Barnes!reader, Bucky x platonic!reader

Summary: What happens when Steve confronts the woman who's been sitting outside the compound every Saturday for a month?

Warnings: mentions parental death, some cursing

Word Count: 6315

a/n: This really took on a mind of its own. I was going to make it a series, but I feel like this is the whole story.

Masterlist

Nervous didn't even begin to describe how you were feeling. Sitting in your car, just outside of the entrance gate to the Avenger's compound was never somewhere you thought you'd be. Not until two months ago, when you found your grandmas old scrapbooks.

Of course, you don't know how to get inside. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Why would just anyone be able to walk up to their door?

"Who are you?" The sudden question startled you, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of your car. You turned to look at the source of the voice, shrinking under her watchful gaze.

The one and only Natasha Romanoff was standing outside your car, glaring at you as if she was ready to drop everything to take you out.

"Oh, um. My name is Y/N L/N. I just wanted to talk to Bucky..." Her glare only grew stronger as you revealed why you were there.

"Barnes doesn't talk to strangers." Before you could explain why, she was gone. You watched her walk into the compound until she wasn't in your view anymore.

"Well, that went horribly." You mumbled to yourself. Now what? Should you just sit there until someone else comes out? Will anyone come out?

-

"So who is she?" Clint asked as soon as Nat got back inside.

"Why is she here?" Sam added on.

"Said her name is Y/N L/N, and she wants to talk to Bucky." Nat rolled her eyes.

"Friday, run a background check on F/N L/N." Tony asked of the AI. "What? You can never be too careful, and people shouldn't know how to get here." He explained given the questioning looks from the rest of the group.

"Y/N L/N, 27, daughter of the deceased Kathleen and Grant L/N. She owns a bookstore in Brooklyn, passed down through her family. No criminal record." Friday responded quickly.

"Sounds normal enough, probably a fan?" Tony suggested, looking around the room.

"A persistent one. She's been here for hours." Steve looked out the window, still seeing your car just outside the gate. "How did she find the entrance?"

Everyone shared similar looks, unsure how a seemingly normal civilian found the gate.

"Excellent question, Capsicle. Friday, got any ideas?" Tony, as usual, turned to the AI for answers.

"Based on GPS data from her car, she drove around upstate New York for eight hours every Saturday for the last 6 weeks until she came across the side road leading to the compound."

"Either she's really good at looking normal, or she's just normal." Nat added on, still slightly suspicious.

"Well, she just left. I guess we're not getting any answers today." Steve said from his position still looking out the window.

-

You came back every Saturday for a month. You didn't know if anything would come of it, but you'd be damned if you didn't try. After your parent's deaths, you thought you had no family left. Finding out you were related to Bucky gave you a lifeline. Something to cling to when you felt alone.

So far, nobody else had come to talk to you. You didn't even know if Bucky knew you were there for him.

The fifth Saturday, you pulled your car up to the gate at 9 am, sticking to your makeshift schedule of waiting outside for the entire day. They had to at least be curious as to why you kept coming back.

Unfortunately for you, the weather upstate today was not the same as the weather in Brooklyn.

Around 10:30, it started to rain. Just a sprinkling, nothing you couldn't handle.

You listened to music, read, ate the lunch you packed, played games on your phone, anything to pass the time. You weren't going to force your way inside, but you were definitely going to show that you were interested.

Typically, you would leave at 5:30. It gave you enough time to drive home and heat up dinner, plus you had to check in on your cat.

Today, however, was a different story. Around 5:15, it started pouring. Sheets of water were coming down around you, completely cutting off any visibility through the windshield.

You figured you'd just wait out the rain, but when it didn't let up by 6, you were getting nervous.

-

"She's still here." Steve walked into the kitchen, announcing his news to the room.

"I'm not surprised. It's not exactly peak driving conditions out there." Sam easily responded, glancing out the window.

"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why?" Steve asked again, pushing the same conversation as always.

Nearly everyone in the room rolled their eyes, sick of repeating the same things.

"Look, we figured if we ignored her, she'd eventually stop. Clearly, that might not be working. If you're so curious, feel free to go ask her." Tony gave in, eager to move on from the discussion of you.

Steve contemplated his choices for all of 2 seconds before grabbing an umbrella and walking down the driveway.

-

You had your head leaned back against the headrest, eyes closed, listening to the rain. Of course you would get stuck here. Why didn't you ever check the weather?

You shrieked when a knock sounded on your passenger side window, not having expected anyone, especially in the rain.

Mr. America himself pointed to the door, gesturing for you to unlock it. You sat up quickly, rushing to hit the unlock button.

He quickly opened the door, shutting his umbrella and lowering himself into the small car.

You were utterly speechless. After your brief encounter with Natasha, you didn't really expect anyone to come talk to you.

Sure, you came back every week, but it was more so to fill the lonely hours you would have normally spent with your parents at the bookstore.

You had other employees to run the shop on Saturdays, allowing you to come here instead.

"Why are you here?" He sounded more curious than anything. Clearly he didn't perceive you as a threat, which was good because you had zero fighting experience.

"To talk to Bucky." Your voice was quiet, unsure how much you should share.

"I know that. Why?" He had fully turned in his seat to look at you, his large frame filling nearly the entire car.

"Well, I found something a few months ago that I thought he should know." You stuttered through your response, mildly intimidated by the man in front of you.

"And that something is?" He questioned further, genuinely curious as to what you want to tell his best friend.

You hesitated, eyes flitting around the car, looking at anything but him. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before speaking again.

"Look, if you ever want to actually talk to him, you should tell me. Buck's been through hell, he won't just talk to anyone. Especially if he has no reason to."

During your conversation, the rain finally let up. You decided to take that as a sign.

"Can I show you something?" You finally looked him in the eye, nearly forgetting why you were even here at the sight of his bright blue eyes.

"Is it the reason you've been out here every Saturday for over a month?" He joked with you, helping to calm your nerves.

You nodded in response, unsure if you could even speak while still looking into his eyes.

"Then please."

You tore your eyes from his face, throwing the car into reverse and backing out of the spot you've claimed as your own. You turned around, heading back to your apartment in Brooklyn.

"Wha- where are we going?" He's clearly surprised by your actions, but he doesn't seem worried.

"I'm going to show you what I found, and hopefully you'll let me talk to Bucky." You paused for a minute, thinking. "Although, really I guess it should be his choice. Maybe you can just give him a message for me, and if he doesn't want to talk I'll leave you all alone."

The idea of never getting to know Bucky, you're only remaining family, hurts, but it's got to be his decision.

Steve just nods in response, still slightly wary of your reasons for wanting to talk to Bucky.

When you're a few minutes away from your apartment, you decide to give him some context.

"You probably already know a lot about me, but let me explain a few things." He silently nods, encouraging you to continue.

"My parents died three and a half months ago." You immediately felt like crying, but did your best to hold it in. Of course, Steve didn't miss the break in your voice. "It was a car accident. The weather was bad. They lost control of the car. They were both pronounced dead on the scene." You parked the car, turning slightly to look at him.

"They were the only family I've ever had, and the were both just gone." You turned and opened the car door, taking a moment to wipe the tears from your eyes. You gestured for him to follow you, locking the car and heading inside your apartment building.

"We were really close. I spent every Saturday at the bookstore with them." You wiped the tears again as the elevator doors closed.

You didn't chance looking at Steve, knowing you would break down at the look of pity.

"I had to go through the stuff at their house. You know, decide what to bring here, what to put in storage, what to get rid of. I found some old scrapbooks, I think from my great grandma."

You lead him into your apartment, locking the door and immediately heading to the kitchen to feed your cat. After you set down the food, you moved to the couch. You had the scrapbooks on the coffee table, having taken every opportunity to look through them.

"I never knew her. My parents didn't talk about her either, I'm not sure if they knew who she was. Her name was Rebecca." You waited a beat, to see if he would understand. When he remained quiet, you handed him one of the books, open to a page with a picture of Steve, Bucky, and Rebecca. "Rebecca Barnes."

You waited again, letting the information sink in for him. After a few minutes he smiled.

"I remember this day." He looked at you, a wide smile on his face. "It was a few days before Bucky was enrolled. We had a picnic." He continued to reminisce, looking through the other pictures in the scrapbook.

"Maybe it's selfish, maybe he won't want to know me, but when I found out I had more family, I wanted to find him." Again, tears pooled in your eyes. "I, I just don't want to be alone."

Steve's smile faltered as he realized what you've been going through, and how you've been doing it alone.

"Hey, I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." He reached out to place a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you.

"Really?" Your eyes were still watery, but a small smile grew on your face.

"I think so. Bucky was really close with his sister when we were young." This time, Steve's eyes grew watery, memories of his youth playing through his mind.

You couldn't take the sight of him being sad, so you pulled him into a hug. He came willingly, letting you bury your face in his chest. He lowered his head so it was overtop of yours, relishing in the comfort of your hug.

You pulled away a few minutes later, not wanting to overstep, but the feeling of his arms around your waist didn't let you go far.

"Thank you for coming out to my car." You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. His face was so close to yours, you could make out the individual shades of blue in his eyes.

"Thank you for sharing your story with me." He whispered back, not wanting to break the moment.

You're not sure how long you would've stayed like that, but a loud crack of thunder jolted you apart.

"What the-" You mumbled, walking over to the window to look outside. Steve followed close behind you, also curious about the weather.

It was now pouring, lightning and thunder cracking overhead.

"I guess the storm followed us to Brooklyn." He joked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I guess so." You looked at the clock, taking in the late hour.

Steve must've followed your line of sight, because he spoke up. "It's getting late, I should probably go."

You immediately shook your head, your fear of travelling in bad weather shining through. "I can't let you leave when it's like this. It's not safe. You, um, you can stay here tonight. You can sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the couch." You grew more confident as you kept talking.

"I couldn't impose like that." Steve shook his head, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"Steve, it's not safe to travel when it's raining like that. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you." Your voice grew tighter, trying not to flashback to the day your parents died.

Steve seemed to realize why you were so worried about the weather, ultimately deciding to agree to stay so you wouldn't worry about him.

"Okay, okay. I'll stay here, but you sleep in your bed. I'll be fine on the couch." He refused your offer, not wanting to force you to spend a night on the couch.

"First of all, thank you. Second of all, you are sleeping in the bed. You're like two feet taller than me." You exaggerated your height difference, but you were trying to make a point. "You won't even be able to lay down on the couch. I take naps here all the time, it's super comfortable." You argued back, unwilling to allow Captain America himself sleep on your tiny ass couch.

"You know, I should've expected you to be this stubborn. You spent five weeks waiting outside the compound with no contact. Plus you're related to Bucky" He laughed to himself, slightly shaking his head. "Fine, I'll sleep in the bed."

You smiled victoriously, jumping up from the couch. "Yay! Do you need anything? I have spare toothbrushes under the sink, and I can probably find you some clothes to sleep in. There's some snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry. Oh! And Carrot might try to lay in the bed with you, but I'll try to keep her out here." You rambled, trying to make sure he was comfortable.

"Carrot?" He smiled at your rambling, finding it adorable.

"Yes! Carrot is my cat. She's a cuddler, so consider yourself warned." You paused, eyes growing wide. "You're not allergic to cats are you? I think there's probably cat fur all over my room."

He laughed again. "No, I don't think the super soldier serum left any room for allergies." He quipped.

You smacked a hand to your forehead. "Duh! Anyway, do you need anything?" You asked again, trying to calm your beating heart.

"Some clothes would be great, thank you." The way he smiled at you did nothing to soothe your nerves.

"Okay." You breathed out, finally taking a deep breath. "I'll go grab some, the bathroom is right here if you need it." You pointed it out on your way to your room. "I'm just gonna get changed real quick, and then I'll be back with your clothes."

He nodded again, watching as you turned and walked into what must be your room.

You quickly changed into a t-shirt and sleep shorts. It took a few minutes of searching through boxes, but eventually you found an old pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt for Steve to sleep in.

You made your way out of the bedroom, handing him the clothes.

"Here ya go. Like I said, there are extra toothbrushes under the sink in the bathroom, and don't hesitate to grab anything you need from the kitchen."

He eyed the clothes in his hands, wondering where they came from, but not wanting to ask.

Luckily for him, you could tell what he was wondering. "They were my dad's." A sad smile graced your face. "I- I sleep in them sometimes when I really wish I could talk to him."

"Thank you." Steve turned to go to bed, but changed his mind last minute. He set the clothes down on the couch, pulling you into another hug. "You know, I can tell your related to Buck. He always looks out for people too."

You blushed at the compliment, grateful he couldn't see your face. "Thank you, that really means a lot." You stayed like that until Steve pulled back to talk to you again.

"I can take you back to the compound tomorrow, if you want. Maybe introduce you to Bucky."

"Really?! You don't want to talk to him first? Or double check anything I told you?" You were shocked at how willing he was to introduce you to Bucky.

"I trust you. Plus, I think you should be the one to tell him." Steve didn't say it out loud, but he also thought you and Bucky would be good for each other.

Bucky had Steve to connect his past and present, but another person for him to rely on wouldn't hurt. And you clearly were looking for a family connection.

"I would love to. Thank you!" You hugged him again, although quicker this time. You jumped back, excited to collect everything you wanted to show him. "I have to find all the scrapbooks to show him!"

When you turned to start collecting things, Steve put a hand on your shoulder, essentially preventing you from moving.

"Why don't we get everything together in the morning? It's getting late and you should get some sleep." He understood how emotionally and physically draining it could be to relive a loss like yours.

"You're right. I should sleep." You tried to slow your mind down, but the prospect of meeting Bucky tomorrow filled you with a mix of excitement and nerves. You gathered your extra blankets and pillows, setting up a bed for yourself on the couch while he went into the bathroom.

You were snuggled in bed, ready to sleep when he came back out.

"Goodnight, Steve."

His heart contracted at how adorable you looked buried in blankets on the couch, but he did his best to ignore it. He'd only just met you after all.

"Goodnight, Y/N."

-

The next morning Steve woke up at 5, per usual. He didn't want to wake you up though, so, despite his natural tendencies to run 10 miles every Sunday morning, he stayed in bed.

That is, until he heard you shuffling around the apartment.

He poked his head out of the room first, trying to verify that you were indeed awake. When he saw you in the kitchen, he fully emerged intent on helping you with whatever you were doing.

"Good morning, you're an early riser?" His question was completely ignored. Granted you couldn't see him yet, but he didn't know why you would be ignoring him.

He made his way closer to you, tapping you on the shoulder to try and get you to interact with him.

You, in a mixture of surprise and fear, turned and threw an egg at him.

He looked at you in shock, while you stared in horror at what you had just done.

You took headphones out of your ears, explaining why you hadn't heard his question.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" You reached toward him with a dish towel, trying to wipe the egg off his (your dad's) shirt. "You just surprised me! I can get you another shirt!"

"It's fine, don't worry-" You ran out of the room anyway, grabbing another shirt of your dad's from the box in your room.

He couldn't help but laugh, oddly relieved that you weren't ignoring him.

When you reentered the kitchen, a shirtless Steve Rogers was washing your dad's shirt in the sink. You froze, taking in the sight of the man before you.

When he turned back around, your eyes took on a mind of their own, soaking in his toned chest and arms. You cleared your throat, shaking yourself out of your stupor to hand him the other shirt.

"Thanks." He smirked, but still blushed slightly before he put it on, ringing out the other shirt before handing it to you. "I didn't want the egg to stick to it since it was your dads, so i rinsed it off..." he trailed off, unsure if it was the right thing to say.

"That's really sweet, thank you. Especially because it was my fault there was even egg on it in the first place." You laughed, trying not to blush with embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, really. I shouldn't have snuck up on you." He laughed as well, clearing any lingering tension. He took a look around the kitchen, taking in just how much stuff you had out.

"What are you making?" He smiled when you blushed again.

"Oh, I was making plum cobbler... I just, I read online that Bucky likes plums, so I thought I would bring him a cobbler." You blushed again, embarrassed by the admission.

"He does." Steve smiled, completely enamoured with your personality. "Did you want some help?"

"Actually, the cobblers are in the oven already. I was going to make breakfast next, though, so you can help with that." You smiled, noting how easy it was to spend time with him.

"Cobblers? I know Bucky's a super soldier, but one would have been plenty." He joked with you, moving to help scramble some eggs.

"Well, yeah. One is for him, but then I thought the other Avengers might be there and I didn't want to not have enough so I made three."

"You're too cute." The words slipped out before he could even think about what he was saying.

You blushed again, a frequent occurrence it seems when you're with Steve.

You uttered a quick thanks, trying to change the subject. "Do you always get up this early?"

He chuckled again. "Yeah, typically I don't need much sleep. I usually run in the mornings, try to clear my head."

The two of you fell into easy conversation, moving around each other effortlessly to make eggs, sausage, toast, and smoothies for breakfast.

When you finished eating, you collected the scrapbooks Bucky might want to see. You added his mom's wedding ring, the one your mom wore as well, to the box.

"What's that?" Steve pointed to the box, unsure if his assumption was correct.

You pulled out two scrapbooks, pointing to the near identical pictures of Bucky's mom and your mom after having been proposed to.

"My mom always told me her engagement ring was a family heirloom. I think it was his mom's ring too. I thought he might like to have it. As something to remember her by, ya know?"

You got teary eyed again. Thinking about how much he must miss his family combined with how much you miss your own parents was too much to handle.

You finished gathering everything, putting it all in a box to make for easier transportation. You took the cobblers out of the oven, packing them as well.

With a deep breath, you followed Steve back out to your car, ready to talk to Bucky.

-

"Where the hell is Steve?" Bucky nearly stormed into the kitchen.

"Whoa, calm down tinman. What's up?" Sam replied casually, pouring cereal into a bowl.

"Where is Steve? I was supposed to run with him this morning, but he wasn't in his room when I went to find him. I don't even like running this early. I literally only do it because it's what he prefers."

Sam laughed, enjoying anything that annoys Bucky. "Dude, chill. He probably just forgot you were going with him."

Tony walked into the kitchen as well, trying to tune out the whines coming from Bucky, but failing.

"That's what I though, but he's always back by now." Bucky huffed, annoyed with Sam for laughing.

"Who?" Tony asked, now slightly intrigued.

"Steve. I haven't seen him since yesterday." Bucky replied as he angrily ate an apple.

"Really?" Tony sounded mildly concerned, immediately alerting Sam and confusing Bucky.

"You don't think?" Sam asked, ignoring Bucky for the time being.

"I don't know!" Tony looked bewildered. "Friday, where is Capsicle?"

"Captain Rogers left yesterday evening with Y/N L/N." The AI easily replied.

"Who?" Bucky questioned the room, never having learned your name.

"You know the woman who's been sitting outside every Saturday?" Bucky nodded to Sam, unsure why he was bringing it up. "Well, Steve went to ask her why she was here last night."

"Nat told me she was just some fan, wanted to see you all." Bucky furrowed his brow, thinking over the new information on Steve's wearabouts.

"Well, yeah that's what we thought. Look, she said she wanted to talk to you specifically." Sam explained, ignoring the pointed glare from Tony.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?" Bucky rose from his chair, annoyed at everyone now. "Now she's got Steve?"

"Relax, Steve can handle himself. She cleared her background check. We really don't have any reason to believe he's in danger." Tony's words were more to convince himself than anyone else. He's the one who said Cap should go check it out if he was so curious.

"Steve's too trusting. What if it was a trap?" Bucky questioned, glaring daggers at the other two men.

Before they could respond, Friday chimed in with more information.

"Captain Rogers just entered the elevator from the parking garage."

"See, he's fine." Tony glared back at Bucky, secretly relieved that Steve was fine.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before leaving, heading for the elevators to yell at Steve for ditching him this morning.

When the elevator doors opened, however, Steve was not alone.

"Hey, punk, why'd you ditch me- Oh. Who are you?" Bucky eyed you suspiciously, looking between you and Steve.

Before Bucky interrupted, Steve was trying to reassure you that everything would work out. He had a hand on your back, rubbing up and down to soothe your nerves.

His other arm was occupied by the box of scrapbooks, or else he probably would have hugged you again.

You were holding a large sheet pan, three pie dishes sitting on top.

Steve was blushing, a surefire sign Bucky had seen something he wasn't supposed to.

"Oh, um. Hi. My name is Y/N L/N." You froze, not thinking you would have to see him so soon. You could see the family resemblance between him, your great grandma, and your mom.

"The car girl." He nodded, trying to piece together the events of last night.

"Yep, that's me." You laughed nervously, unsure of what he already knew.

"Buck, do me a favor? Let us out of the elevator." Steve eyed him, mildly annoyed with the ambush.

Bucky moved to the side, allowing you and Steve to exit the elevator. You followed Steve down the hall to the kitchen, where you put the cobblers on the counter.

Sam and Tony were still there, eating various foods.

"Well, hello there." Tony greeted when he spotted you, intrigued by the development. He looked at Steve for an explanation.

"Y/N made plum cobbler." Steve said instead, moving his hand back to the small of your back.

Bucky's eyes lit up at the mention of plums, enough to momentarily distract him from Steve's actions.

"Oh, right!" You took a cobbler out of the dish, moving toward Bucky. "This one's for you, because I read that you liked plums." You handed him the dish, quickly moving back to the others. "I also made a peach and an apple for everyone else." You smiled at Tony and Sam, unknowingly leaning slightly into Steve.

"Why does he get a special cobbler?" Sam whined, eagerly reaching for the other dishes.

Suddenly, all eyes were on you. Well, except Sam's who were on the peach cobbler.

"Oh, um, well, I was hoping I could talk to you." You looked at Bucky nervously, unsure of how he would respond.

"Anyone who bakes me a plum cobbler can talk to me, Doll." Natasha chose that exact moment to enter the room.

"Who made plum cobbler?" She looked around the room, eyes narrowing in your direction. "How did you get in here?"

"I brought her." Steve smiled at you before walking over to Natasha. He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for her to hear, but nobody else. "She's not a threat to your relationship, trust me."

Nat nodded her head, trusting Steve, although not for the reasons he thought. She could clearly see the blonde's affinity for you.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Bucky asked between bites of cobbler.

"It's really a private conversation." Steve answered for you, seeing how unsure of yourself you were.

"Then why do you know, punk?" Bucky countered.

"Well, I had to tell someone so I could finally talk to you. Steve's the one who asked." You smiled at Steve again, trying to convey how grateful you were with just a look.

Steve smiled back at you, while everyone in else just shared a knowing look.

Eventually, Steve cleared his throat. "Buck, can you just come with us?"

Bucky nodded, moving to follow Steve while still eating the cobbler. You followed the two of them as well, growing more nervous with each step.

Steve lead you to his room, placing the box of scrapbooks on the bed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Steve looked to you for an answer.

You took a deep breath, in all honestly you would love for him to stay, but you think you should probably just talk to Bucky first.

"No, that's okay. Come back in like, 30 minutes?" You scrunched up your face, unsure if 30 minutes was long enough, but knowing you would need the deadline if you were ever going to explain it all to Bucky.

Steve nodded, squeezing your shoulder as he passed you to leave the room.

"Um," you turned to Bucky, trying to think of where to start. "I don't know what you already know about me, but-"

"Nothing really. Except that you make a delicious plum cobbler." He smiled, helping to ease your nerves. Food really was the way to this man's heart.

"Oh, I guess I'll start where I started when I told Steve." You smiled at the mention of his name, unaware of your own actions. But Bucky noticed.

"My parents died a few months ago." Bucky's eyes went wide, trying to think of what this could have to do with him. "Um, it was a car accident. They both died on the scene." You took a deep breath, trying to push through the sad parts.

"I had to clean out their house, and I found some scrapbooks that lead me to you." You shifted closer to the bed, looking through the scrapbooks you brought.

You pulled out the one with the first picture you showed Steve, opening it and gesturing for Bucky to take it.

He set the cobbler on Steve's nightstand, cautiously reaching for the book. He looked at the picture for a long time before saying anything. And when he did talk, it was a whispered "Becca..."

He ran his fingers over the picture slowly, just staring. A few minutes later, he eagerly flipped the page. He spent a good 10 minutes just looking through all the books you handed him.

"Where did you get these?" He questioned, although not accusingly.

"I found them in my parents house. They were with a bunch of my grandma's stuff that she had from her mom." You wanted to ease him into it.

"So your great grandma..." He trailed off, disbelief clear across his face.

"Was Rebecca Barnes." You finished the sentence for him, nerves clear in your voice.

You weren't sure what to say next, so you waited for him to make the next move.

"So you're my... great-grand niece?" You nodded at his question, still unsure if he was happy with the news. "God, that makes me feel old."

You nearly cackled, surprised by the joke. He smiled when you laughed, glad to have cleared some of the tension.

"Why did you want to find me?" He questioned, the mood turning more serious again.

"Well, I was really close to my parents. They were the only family I had. When I found out you are family too, I just... I knew I needed to at least tell you." You shrugged at the end, unsure if you really answered his question.

"You wanted to tell me so badly that you sat outside the compound every Saturday for five weeks even after being ignored?" He was in shock that anyone would spend that much time and effort just to talk to him. You started panicking immediately.

"I'm so sorry if you didn't want to know! It was selfish of me to force this on you. I can go, if you want. You don't have to talk to me." You started questioning everything. You moved to put the books back in the box when he stopped you.

"Oh, um. I'm sorry, you can keep those. If you want!" Tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks when you remembered the ring. You froze with your hand in the box, not knowing if you'd want to part with it knowing you'd never see Bucky again.

"Y/N..." Something in the way he said your name made you look at him. "I- I'm glad you told me. Really glad. I, uh, I never thought I would have family, well besides Steve. You know what I mean." He ran a hand through his hair, and you noticed the tears in his eyes.

"I don't want you to go. It's just hard for me..." he paused, trying to figure out his emotions. "It's hard to believe that someone would care about me that much."

"Bucky, I don't know you." He frowned at your statement. "But, I would love to get to know you." You smiled at him, trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not so sure you would." His face was hard, staring at the ground.

"Bucky, you aren't a bad person. I mean, sure you've done bad things, but it wasn't your choice. You were forced to do those things. You can't let yourself be defined by them. You're here aren't you?"

"Here?" He questioned.

"Working with the Avengers, I mean. You go on missions to help save people. That's your choice. That's who you are. I would be honored to get to know that person."

You smiled, waiting for him to say something.

"Are you sure?" He still looked unsure.

"God, maybe I get my stubbornness from you." You both laughed at that. "I am 100% sure."

"Wow." He shook his head, still in shock.

A knock sounded on the door before Steve came back in. "Is now a good time?" He asked, still standing in the doorway.

You nodded appreciatively. "Thank you." You pulled him into a hug, needing the emotional support.

"Of course. I'm happy I could help." He rubbed your back, reciprocating the hug. "Did you give him the ring yet?" He asked when you took a step back.

You shook your head, reaching into the box for the last item. "I, um, I thought you might want this." You handed him the box, nerves peaking through again.

He opened it, a soft smile on his face when he recognized it. "My mom's engagement ring."

You smiled, happy that he recognized it. "It was my mom's as well."

The two of you stared a the ring for awhile, reminiscing on time spent with your parents.

Eventually, Bucky picked the cobbler back up, not wanting to let it go to waste.

Steve couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend. "Wow, jerk. You're just gonna go back to eating."

"Yes, punk. My great-grand niece made me a plum cobbler, and I tend to fully enjoy it."

"Great-grand niece. Ha, that makes you sound so old."

It was fun for you to see the two interacting like this, especially after the emotional hurdles you just ran.

"It's fine, Stevie. Let him enjoy the cobbler." Your face went red, not having meant to use the nickname.

"Yeah Stevie, let me enjoy the cobbler." Bucky couldn't help but poke fun, knowing there was an unspoken attraction between the two of you.

Somehow your face got even redder. Steve just rolled his eyes.

"Fine, eat your cobbler. Only because I had some of the apple one and it was delicious. It would be a shame to waste any."

You smiled at the compliment, embarrassment subsiding a bit. Steve sat down on the bed between you and Bucky, eager to ask his friend about some of the pictures. Steve put his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder as he spoke to Bucky.

You felt your eyes growing heavy, exhausted since your nerves kept you up most of the night. You rested your head on Steve's shoulder, soaking in his warmth as you cuddled closer.

Steve just rubbed your arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the interaction, realization dawning on his face.

"Oh my god. My best friend likes my great-grand niece. And she likes him." He said it so matter of fact, the two of you didn't bother denying it. You just smiled, and cuddled closer together.

[xoxoavenger]

The Girl

pairing: Jack Thompson x Reader

summary: Jack keeps his private life away from work. That is, until a rough night forces him to show his cards.

word count: 1349

warnings: none

masterlist

"Thompson!" Jack turned as he heard Dooley call his name.

"Yes, Chief?"

"Leaving so soon?" Jack looked around the office at the Chief's words, seeing almost every agent still at their desks. He had all his stuff already in his briefcase, making the others quite annoyed.

"Gotta get home." Jack smiled. Today was special.

"Got a hot date?"

"Somethin like that." Jack's smile was still on his face as others in the office turned to look at him.

"Jack's got a lady friend?" Someone said from his desk. Jack shook his head.

"Have for awhile." Jack smirked, looked at the astonished faces of his coworkers.

"Why the hell haven't you told anyone about her?" Now everyone was smiling, happy to have something on Jack.

"It's just never came up." Jack shrugged and everyone rolled their eyes and got back to work.

"Have fun on your date, Jack." Daniel smirked, teasing Jack as he began to walk out. "But not too much. Children are lots of trouble." Jack rolled his eyes at Dooley before walking out of the office.

~

"I'm home!" Jack took his hat off as he walked in, putting his case down and his jacket on the rack.

"In here!" Y/N yelled, and Jack knew she was in the kitchen.

"Hey there." He said, walking into the kitchen. Y/N looked up at him and smiled.

"Dadda!"

"Hi baby girl." Y/N looked back down at their daughter, who was sitting on the counter in front of Y/N. She was continuously dipping her hands in the bowl that his wife had been trying to pour out to make cupcakes.

"Cake!" She said, twisting and lifting her hands to show Jack the batter on them.

"Did you make it yourself?" Jack asked, stepping around the counter to join Y/N's side.

"Myeah." She said, still lifting her hands to show Jack.

"Can Daddy have some?" Jack grabbed her tiny wrist, putting her hand in his mouth and tasting the batter.

"Dadda!" She shrieked, and Y/N laughed as their daughter squirmed on the counter.

"Who's the cake for?" Jack asked her, and she put a finger to herself.

"Mia!"

"Amelia? Why would it be for her?" Jack put his hands on the little girl's waist, and Y/N leaned against him.

"I think it's Amelia's birthday." Y/N said, looking up at Jack.

"Amelia's birthday? I don't think so." Jack looked at Y/N, and they smiled.

"Dada!" Amelia reached forward and grabbed onto Jack's tie. Y/N pulled Jack's face to her's, looking at him for a moment before bringing his lips to hers. This kiss only lasted a moment, but it brought even bigger smiles to the couple's faces.

"Amelia Grace what are you doing?" Y/N asked, grabbing her husband's tie out of her baby's mouth. Amelia let out a shriek as she scrunched up her face, getting ready to cry.

"Oh, no, baby." Jack lifted Amelia off the counter and into his arms, letting her lay against his chest. She grabbed the tie once more and lifted it into her mouth, becoming silent again.

"Happy birthday, Mia." Jack said, kissing her forehead.

"You're lucky your daddy loves you." Y/N pushed Amelia's hair out of her face, and Jack used an arm to pull Y/N close, holding both of his girls in his arms.

~

When Jack woke up, his daughter was crying and his wife was no longer in the bed. He immediately got up, first going to his daughter. She was stood in her crib, hanging onto the rails. As soon as she saw Jack, she made grabby hands, continuing her cries. Jack reached in and grabbed her, pulling her close to him.

"Let's find Mommy." Jack said, letting her rest against his chest. She quieted her cries, trying to suck on something. She was reaching for Jack's tie, but Jack wasn't wearing anything on his chest, so her grabs came up short.

"Dadda," she whined, and Jack rubbed her back. They only had one pacifier for her, and she didn't like it anyway. She liked Jack's ties.

Jack walked to the kitchen, the living room, and back to the bedroom. Y/N was nowhere to be seen. He looked down to his daughter, who was still awake.

"Y/N is so much better at this." Jack said, finally seeing the bathroom light on. He walked in to see Y/N asleep, her arms resting on the toilet. He sighed, looking down at Amelia as her eyes slid close. Jack walked to her crib, putting her down and looking at her sleeping form for just a moment, before going to the bathroom. He grabbed a towel, got it damp, and then put it on her head. She blearily opened her eyes, before turning and throwing up. Jack held her hair up, moving the cloth to the back of her neck.

"I'm sorry." Y/N whispered, and Jack let her hair down and flushed the toilet. He wiped her face, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"For what, Baby?" Jack wiped Y/N's face, pushing the hair out of her face.

"You have work tomorrow. You should be asleep."

"Don't worry about me. What hurts?" Jack put his hand on her forehead. It felt warm, and he pulled her into himself.

"Everything." Y/N moaned, burying her head into Jack's chest. She felt hot, but she was shivering.

"Would you like to go back to the bed?" Y/N just nodded, and Jack picked her up and brought her to their room, lying her on their bed. Just as he began to lie down, Amelia screamed. Jack sighed, getting up. It was going to be a long night.

~

"Wow, Thompson. You look tired. Rough night?" Jack lifted his head from his desk at Chief Dooley's words. Jack doesn't remember falling asleep, but it must've happened at some point, as his papers were now stuck to his face. He pulled them off slowly, blinking to wake up.

"Mhm." Jack mumbled, looking at his desk. What was he working on?

Jack's night had consisted of caring for the baby, who hadn't wanted to sleep, and Y/N, who was throwing up for at least half the night. Y/N's sister had been called in to take care of them, but Jack had still been reluctant to leave.

"Did your special lady keep you up?" Someone else in the office said, and Jack could hear the mumbles from everyone in the room.

"Not in the way you would think." Jack rubbed his eyes, finally looking up at the room.

"That's unfortunate." Everyone went back to their work, and Jack tried to figure out what he had been working on before he had dozed off.

"What's really got you tired?" Daniel turned around in his chair, facing Jack. Daniel knew everything, and so Jack didn't even think before starting to explain.

"Y/N's sick, and the baby was crying all,"

"The baby?"  Someone had asked, overhearing Jack and Daniel's conversation.

It's not like Jack had tried to keep his personal life a secret, but he wasn't really close with his coworkers. Sure, they went out and had drinks, and some of them knew about Y/N, but Amelia was a special part of his life that no one at the office would understand. They're all too caught up in their affairs to understand what it's like to have a kid of your own, to love someone on a completely different level like never before.

"Yeah." Jack pulled out his wallet, where one of the only pictures lived.

"This is Amelia Grace Thompson. She was born a year ago, yesterday." Jack said, showing the picture to Daniel and the other worker.

"Jack, I had no idea,"

"Yeah, well, no one really did." Jack smiled tiredly, looking at the picture. He had saved up to get it done, and he was so glad he had.

"Were you scared?" Jack looked up at Daniel, surprised. Daniel had never asked him about it, and it made him happy to know someone else in the office cared.

"Yeah. But, it's something unlike anything I've ever experienced. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

[ptergwen]

only you and me

w/c: 6.7k

warnings: angst, mentions of weed, and some swearing

summary: whenever peter tries to tell you how he feels, harry gets in the way

a/n: ahhhh hi my loves! my mini writing break is over :,) life has been just a mess for me and i’ve been way more critical than usual about my work but i’m doing a little better and ready to get back into everything! this helped me a lot so i’m excited to share it with y’all <3 it’s also my first time writing harry osborn so lmk how i did lmaooofwfjj but yeah pls enjoy

-

“dude, she’s right there! just tell her!” ned whisper yells to peter, elbowing him for emphasis. they’re hidden behind a wall to watch you at your locker. you’re grabbing books while betty rants to you and mj rolls her eyes. “not now. she looks... busy,” peter gulps, gaze trailing down your body. he always finds excuses to put off telling you how he feels.

or rather, excuses find him. something comes up every time he gets the courage to do it. he has no idea why he’s so scared because he’s pretty sure you like him back. pretty sure. there are a few reasons why you might not. also, plenty why you might. you stay up late texting most nights, and you’ve even flirted a couple of times. it never fails to make peter blush. he trips over his words whenever he tries to flirt back.

he’s had feelings for you since the first time you two hung out alone. none of your other friends could make it, but you happily took him up on his offer to come over. you grinned through his whole apartment tour, asked about may and what she does. when peter showed you his room, you even complimented his movie posters, much to his surprise.

“really? you don’t think they’re, like, dorky?”

“no, peter. your interests aren’t dorky. everyone likes what they like.”

and, he liked you. he knew it from that point on. you’d know it too if the universe wouldn’t keep stopping him from saying that.

“she’s so...” peter pauses for a second. him and ned watch you pull betty in by her shoulders as if you’re going to kiss her. she dodges you, mj pushing her back, all three of you giggling about it before you grab betty’s hands and give her words of encouragement. “cool,” peter finishes, turning back to ned. “i mean, how she puts herself out there like that.”

“what’s stopping you from doing the same thing?” ned points out with a knowing smile that peter returns. you make it look so easy. whenever you’re comfortable around people, you can let go of any doubts you have. you stop worrying about what they might think and instead do what you want. it’s inspiring to peter, and heart warming getting to be one of the people you’re fully you with.

he wishes he could apply your wisdom himself.

peter shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “oh, you know. anxiety, fear of rejection. that fun stuff.” “so, yourself,” ned concludes, clapping peter’s backpack so hard it makes him stumble forward. betty and mj wave goodbye to you before heading to their first class. you’re still getting your things together at your locker. this is peter’s moment.

“come on, dude! y/n’s not busy anymore. you got this.” ned keeps his hand on peter’s back, adding on, “it’s been a year already.” “half a year,” peter corrects him in a mumble. he’s liked you for a really long time. “ok, i’m going. wish me luck.” he takes a deep breath and focuses in on you. “aw, dude. you don’t need it.” ned gives him one last pat on the back. “good luck, though.” “thanks, man. see you in trig.”

right as peter starts heading over, harry comes up behind you and covers your eyes. you squeal, jumping up and turning to him, laughing as you playfully hit at his chest. he brings you into a hug where your face is buried in his sweater and probably inhaling his super strong, super expensive cologne.

that’s what’s stopping peter, harry freaking osborn. his own friend.

peter quickly loses the tiny bit of confidence ned gave him. he figures it might be better to hold off on his confession and get an early start to class. unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. harry has already spotted him and calls him over.

“hey, pete! come give us some love, eh?” harry beams, an arm slung around your shoulders and you smiling up at him. you direct your smile to peter when he slumps his way to your locker. his lips pull into a barely noticeable frown. you notice. “there’s my guy. why so down, sunshine?” harry offers his fist for a fist bump. peter gives it to him, eyes staying on you.

harry osborn. where to begin with such a specimen? he’s the perfect combination of everything you’d want in a guy. he gets good grades, he’s a star player on on the basketball team, nice to everyone and makes you laugh, popular yet fits right into your small group.

he was friends with you before the popular thing. what kicked it off was him making varsity basketball while only being a sophomore. yep, he’s unreal. since then, he’s been balancing his cool life and also hanging with “the nerds,” as he likes to call you. he got his own feelings for you along the way. peter can tell.

he’ll give you rides home, compliment how you look, basically act like your boyfriend without really being it. it absolutely infuriates peter because he doesn’t compare to harry in the slightest. if he were you and had the choice between himself or harry, he would pick harry.

it’s been a factor in why he hasn’t come clean about how he feels yet. he’s not trying to create a love triangle that he doesn’t stand a chance surviving in.

“for real, peter. you good?” you ask him, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “fine,” peter lies and musters up a smile. “i’m just tired. didn’t sleep too good last night.” you’re only more concerned now. this has been happening to him a lot lately. you search for his eyes. “again?”

“aw, man. you need something for it?” harry punches peter’s shoulder and lowers his voice. “i know this kid who-“ “harry, stop.” your words are serious, tone lighthearted. you throw your head back on his arm. “do you really know a kid?” “i’m not telling you,” he says in an overly happy voice, you humming the same way. peter feels like he’s third wheeling.

“i was telling pete.” harry looks at him expectantly, peter’s mouth dropping open while he thinks of what to say. harry likes to mess around. this is a different level, though. “no thanks. i- i shouldn’t. i’m-“ “relax, i don’t know a kid,” harry chuckles and points at peter. “your face right now.” it’s completely flushed. you knock into harry’s side.

“ok, well literally no one laughed. you’re scaring him,” you tell harry sternly. peter tugs tight on one of his backpack straps. he doesn’t feel like he’s third wheeling you two now. he feels like your kid. he’ll never let ned mettle in his love life ever again if this is where it gets him. “he knows i’m kidding, y/n/n. right?” harry checks with peter. you make a face at him that says you aren’t convinced.

he switches his arm from you to peter, drawing him into his side. “look, pete. i’m sorry. the only kid i know who’s selling is chocolates for his band trip.” you’re satisfied with that, grinning at both of them. peter forces a laugh and nods. “no worries, man. i gotta get to class.” “good boy,” harry lets him go. “bye, pete. we’ll see you at lunch,” you remind him. he gives you a tight lipped smile. “see you, y/n/n.”

you and harry continue practically spooning each other as soon as peter is out of sight.

what the hell is going on?

peter is back to being grumpy, plopping down in his seat next to ned. their teacher has the lesson plan pulled up on the smart board. ned looks from it to peter, almost jumping in his seat. “oh, you’re back already? how’d it go?” “it didn’t go,” peter huffs, copying down the aim. he’s only doing it so he doesn’t have to look ned in the eyes while telling him he bailed. again.

“you didn’t do it?” ned repeats, peter writing something about pi and a unit circle in his notebook. he bites the inside of his cheek. “you have to do it at some point,” ned sighs out and picks up his pencil. even he’s getting tired of this, and ned never gets tired of a good friends to lovers moment. “i think she likes harry,” peter says under his breath. “huh?” ned gasps.

peter doesn’t feel like explaining the extremely awkward moment he just finished living. although, it wouldn’t hurt to get a second opinion. “y/n. he came over, and they kept hugging and whatever.” “they always do that,” ned almost scoffs, their trigonometry teacher moving to stand in front of the class. “yeah, but he had his arm around her the whole time we-“

the bell rings and cuts their conversation short. peter struggles to label the unit circle they learn about when his mind is filled to its capacity with images of you and harry all over each other. it’s not daydreaming. this is a nightmare. maybe, he actually will be having sleep problems.

peter’s morning is relatively decent after that. he gets to do an experiment with mj in chemistry, and she lets him take the lead for once. spanish is easy, health is okay, then he has a free period, then it’s lunch. things can only go downhill from here.

he thinks about hiding in the library until it’s over, but it’s the thought of harry eating your face that gets him to drag himself to the cafeteria.

flash is at the head of your table talking to harry when peter gets there. great, now he can’t eat his soggy chicken fingers in peace. “sounds dope. let’s go on the-“ flash stops saying what he was saying and nods at peter. “penis parker, you’re late.” peter takes his seat on your left, harry on your right. you glance over at him to make sure he’s okay. he acts like he doesn’t care, peeling open his milk carton.

“just text me later, man. get outta here,” harry dismisses flash, the two of them doing a bro handshake before he leaves. he’s well aware of his and peter’s history. he keeps them separate for the obvious reasons. peter appreciates it because saying no to flash is nearly impossible. he shouldn’t be so mad at harry, should he? he’s a good friend.

harry’s arm snakes around your waist and brings you closer to him. never mind.

“who’s up for sushi later?” he asks the table, everyone agreeing and saying how awesome that sounds. everyone except peter. you tap his shoulder with a small smile. “what about you, peter? you coming?” he realizes you’re all waiting for him to respond and puts down his milk. “uh, i can’t. homework,” he lamely answers.

“dude, we have homework, too. just do it a little later,” ned suggests, betty laying her head on his shoulder. you share a look with her, your eyes wide and a grin on your lips. that must have been what you were talking about this morning. she asked for boy advice. ned advice. why can’t this crap work out for peter?

“i really can’t. sorry, guys,” peter half heartedly apologizes.

he misses the disappointment that crosses your features because he’s pouting at his lunch again.

“homework, huh?” mj tests him, squinting as she takes a sip of apple juice. harry nudges peter’s side with two fingers. “you still mad about the sleeping thing?” “sleeping thing? what sleeping thing?” betty wonders while ned rests his head against hers. a quiet laugh slips out of you as you lean in to tell her.

“peter said he couldn’t sleep last night, so harry offered him...” you mime rolling a joint. “i said no,” peter clarifies, rolling his eyes at the inevitable teasing he’s about to get. none of you have even smoked besides harry. you’re being annoying about it. “of course you did,” mj sighs and kicks her feet up on the table. “unrelated to what y/n just said... harry, i have insomnia.”

everyone bursts into laughter at that, betty shoving her side and you pulling harry by his torso as he pretends to go into his backpack. peter wants nothing to do with any of this. he usually enjoys joking around with the group, even if it’s at his expense because it’s from a place of love.

today feels like you’re straight up making fun of him. harry might as well invite flash to join in.

“alright, alright, alright. enough of the weed talk,” harry decides, you removing your arms from him and grabbing your coffee. “you’re such a bad influence.” your voice drips with sarcasm. you bend the straw and take a sip while scooting closer to peter. “you really can’t come later? i feel like i’ve barely seen you today.” that’s on harry. “i wish i could, y/n/n,” peter exhales. “i’ll text you later, okay?”

you don’t get to answer because mj tugs on your arm, distracting you from peter. she explains how she has to do an art project on what it means to be a woman and needs help brainstorming ideas. you’re full of them, offering up an interesting perspective for her to use. peter smiles to himself as he listens in. you find a new way to impress him every day.

he should tell you that.

“hey, y/n?” “listen to her! you’re seriously my idol,” betty gushes, so loudly you don’t hear peter. not a single thing has gone in his favor at this table. he gives up.

peter locks himself in his room when he gets home from his overall terrible day. he does homework like he said he would, only taking a break for dinner, giving one word replies to may’s questions about school. he’d much rather be having sushi with you. he would’ve gone if the others didn’t.

after dinner, it’s back to grumbling and scribbling down answers. there’s a knock at peter’s door around ten o’clock, which he assumes is may saying goodnight. “i’ll be done in a few minutes, may! love you.” “it’s y/n,” you reply, the smile clear in your voice. his eyes go comically wide. that’s the last thing he expected to hear. “oh. uh, come in.”

you’re holding a small takeout bag, shutting the door behind you and walking over to his desk. you meet his twinkling eyes in the dim light that hits off his walls. from his open window, you faintly hear cars as they rush by and honk their horns in the distance, accompanied by a fresh breeze. it’s cozy, safe. it’s peter.

“hey. what’re you doing here?” peter questions, leaving his pencil in his binder and shutting it. you shake around the plastic bag. “i saved you a roll.” he bites back a smile, getting up from his chair. “may let me in. she was really chill about it,” you continue and hold out the sushi for him. “it’s a california roll. i wasn’t sure what you wanted, and everyone likes those.”

peter lets his smile spread out and takes the bag from you. “thanks, y/n/n. i was honestly hoping one of you would have leftovers.” you laugh softly, peter setting the bag down on his desk. he scratches the back of his neck. “did you guys have fun?” “yeah. i missed you, though.” you clasp your hands behind your back. “everyone did.”

“i feel bad i didn’t go. just... things felt off today,” peter admits the real reason he stayed home, you letting out a breath. “it was harry, wasn’t it? god, he was being so weird.” your arms drop back to your sides. “there’s a difference between playing around and actually upsetting people.” by people, you mean peter. no one else seemed too bothered by him. “i’m sorry, peter. i tried to make him stop.”

“no, you don’t have to apologize,” peter assures you sweetly, grabbing one of your hands. “it’s not your fault, okay? he probably didn’t realize what he was doing. the jokes landed.” he’s referring to ned, mj, and betty finding harry’s comments hilarious. you lace your fingers with peter’s and frown. “this isn’t like him. maybe he’s stressed about a game.” your gaze drifts off to the side, what you see getting you to perk up.

“is that new?” you ask peter, leading him by his hand over to a poster he put up recently. it’s for 13 going on 30. you showed it to him a couple of weeks ago, and he clearly liked it a lot. any movie that makes it to peter’s wall is a special one. “mhm. i got it literally right after you went home the night we watched,” he chuckles and looks over at you while you study the poster.

you turn to face peter again, keeping your hand tight in his. “were you gonna tell me something earlier? at lunch?” he’s confused for a second, then he remembers your ideas for mj’s art project. the fact that you cared enough to bring it up after all these hours makes his stomach do summersaults in the best way. he shrugs and gives you a smile.

“the stuff you were saying about femininity and how there are so many ways to define it,” peter starts, you grinning back at him, at how he took an interest in what you were saying. “you’re so smart, y/n. you make me wanna be better.” a light pink dusts his cheeks. “peter, you’re a feminist?” you coo, joking but genuinely wondering at the same time. he squeezes your hand. “duh.”

“i thought so,” you nod, taking in the rest of what he said. “you think i’m smart? i trust you because you’re way smarter.” peter pffts in response. “i’m only good at, like, physics. you’re good at things that really matter. smart in that way.” you’re feeling your own face get hot. you swing yours and peter’s hands back and forth. “why are you the nicest person ever?”

the answer to that, may, peeks her head into the room. “hey, kids. it’s getting late.” she notices your intertwined hands and shoots peter a smirk. “i thought you were a cool aunt,” he teases, you sadly letting go of him. “she is. thanks for having me over so late,” you tell may on your way to the door. “oh, stop it. you can come over any time.” she puts a hand on your arm. “thank you so much,” you murmur back.

you walk backwards to the doorway, may leaving you two to say your goodbyes. “wanna hang out only you and me? on friday maybe?” that should make up for everything earlier. “yeah, of course. friday is perfect,” peter agrees and bounces on his feet as excitement takes over him. “thanks again for the sushi.”

“no problem. goodnight.” it’s taking every last bit of power in you to not freak out. “night. text me when you get home.” he presses his tongue into his cheek. you slowly pull the door shut. “ok, i will. bye!” it closes, leaving peter skipping across his room to his bed on one side and you doing a little happy dance on the other.

the next day at school, everything is back to normal. honestly, better than normal. your hangout with peter is tomorrow, and he’s planning on telling he likes you then. he already talked it over with ned. he’s relieved it’s finally happening, especially since him and betty have their own thing. she’ll be taking up most of his free time from here.

your group is spending lunch outside today, lounging across a picnic table, surrounded by trees and the shining sun in a bright blue sky. mj sits on the table and has her feet on the bench, which would usually bug peter to no end. he doesn’t mind this time because it takes up enough room that harry has to sit with ned and betty instead of you. you lean into peter’s side and stab a piece of lettuce from your salad.

“it’s so nice out,” betty sighs, ripping off half her cookie and giving it to ned. “we should ditch.” “oh my god, you sound like harry,” you groan between bites of salad. peter lets out a breathy laugh, you looping your arm through his. he grins down at where you’re linked. harry crosses his own arms over his chest. “she wishes.” betty only nods because her mouth is full of m&m’s.

“nah, seriously. i’d take us out somewhere, but i have practice after school.” he speaks quieter than he normally does, less confident. your theory about him having basketball drama was right. “what did we tell you? talk about the sports shit with your sports friends,” mj complains, sitting back on her hands. she glances at harry over her shoulder and catches ned mouthing you can’t say that.

sitting criss cross, she spins around to face harry, unenthusiastically saying, “what i meant was, you sound upset. what’s wrong?” harry gets into it right away, like he’s been waiting for someone to ask. “coach says there might be a scout at the next game. it’s a really good opportunity even though i don’t have to worry about... college yet.” the word makes him cringe.

“oh, damn. that’s a big deal. scary,” mj snorts, turning back to you and peter. her behavior makes ned internally face palm. “that’s awesome, dude. you’re gonna play amazing like always.” he gives harry a high five, who smiles nervously in response. he’s never nervous. “thanks, bro. you guys wanna come and watch?” he’s never invited you to one of his games before either.

this isn’t a group of friends that likes to spend their weekends in bleachers while angry teens shout around them.

“definitely. we’ll be there to support you, harry,” betty answers for everyone, ned pecking her cheek in satisfaction. mj cusses to herself before replying. “if i absolutely must, sure.” only you and peter haven’t said anything yet. he’s been chewing his lower lip, and you your salad. harry looks between you two hopefully. it’s more so at you, which peter doesn’t like.

“y/n? pete? it would help a lot, i’m serious.” he taps his fingers on the table until one of you speaks up. you’re the one who does. “i’ll go. this is pretty huge, right? congrats.” you reach across the table and squeeze his shoulder while simultaneously tightening your arm around peter’s. he takes that as a cue. “i’ll go, too. happy for you, man.”

though peter isn’t currently in the best place with harry, he should show his support by showing up. it can’t be too bad since the rest of you will be there.

a loud, long chuckle leaves harry as he hops up from his bench and comes to yours and peter’s. he bends over and wraps both of you in a hug from behind at the same time. his arms are around each of your shoulders, holding you so close his cheeks are squished against either of your heads. you giggle at that, peter finding himself laughing along and reaching back to ruffle harry’s hair.

staying mad at him is one of the world’s greatest challenges.

“you’re saints, both of you. my angels.” he kisses the back of your head, then lays one right on peter’s cheek, leaving him blushing red and grinning. “what about the rest of us? i never go to shit like this,” mj huffs and seems genuinely offended. harry wiggles his eyebrows. “you want a kiss?” his offer gets her flustered, which she can’t manage to hide. that’s a first.

“shut up. i’m just saying... never mind.” mj glares at you and peter, ned and betty making kissing noises behind her. “someone change the subject.” peter steps in. “when’s the game, harry?” he asks, harry snapping and waving his finger. “tomorrow! cancel your plans, kiddos.” “like we had any,” betty retorts.

some of you did. that was going to be peter’s hangout with you.

ned smiles sympathetically at peter before betty is getting his attention. you‘re unfazed and rambling to harry how proud you are of him.

did last night mean nothing? was it an empty gesture? were you only doing it out of guilt? peter must have read your visit wrong. he’s been wrong the whole time he’s liked you. you don’t like him back, you pity him. harry is who you’re really interested in.

may always says he should trust his instincts.

peter pulls his arm from yours suddenly, swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. you’re taken back because it’s so out of no where. you stop talking to harry so you can figure out his deal. “where are you going?” “bell’s gonna ring,” peter mumbles and picks up his lunch tray. he heads to the garbage can without another word or goodbye to anyone.

“i’m gonna go check on him,” you tell harry, already getting up from the bench. “you do that,” he acknowledges and calls mj’s name again.

peter tosses his mostly untouched food in the trash, seeing you make your way over from the corner of his eye. he tries to speed walk inside so he doesn’t have to talk to you. you’re too quick, cornering him between the door and brick wall.

“we still have ten minutes,” you state, worry flashing across your face. he’s avoiding you. well, attempting to. “what’s wrong?” peter gulps before saying anything. “my next class is on the other side of the-“ “no,” you cut him off. “what’s really wrong?”

he doesn’t feel like having this discussion. it’s bad enough he came to the realization his feelings are one sided. must he break that down for you so soon?

you toy with your sleeve while you speak because peter doesn’t. “i thought you and harry were fine again. i mean, he kissed you.” peter clenches his jaw so hard he can imagine the sound of it cracking. “it’s not about harry.” “what, then? what the fuck happened?” your sleeves are now balled in your fists. you hate it when peter does this angsty routine.

he keeps his voice low and calm so he doesn’t come off as jealous or hurt. he’s both of those things. “the game is tomorrow. friday. when we were supposed to hang out.” you meet peter’s eyes with nothing but remorse in yours. “i... i forgot,” is all you have to say.

you feel awful. he’s had a tough couple of days, and you fell through on your promise to cheer him up.

“clearly,” peter remarks, voice sharp. the way you’re looking at him makes him think he won’t like what’s coming. “peter, we have to go,” you almost whine. “i’m really sorry, i am, but this is a big night for harry. he needs us there.” peter stays silent. you’re twisting the knife deeper into him with every word. “i wouldn’t be cancelling if this wasn’t important.”

now you’re cancelling?

you reach for peter’s hand, but he shoves it into his pocket. that stings for you and him. “please, peter. we’ll hang out at the game, i swear.” this is the last chance you’ve got, so you pile it on. “harry won’t even be there, technically. he’ll... he’ll be on the court.” peter hadn’t thought about that. he lets himself unclench, starting to see the appeal. you add one more thing to lighten the mood and persuade him.

“i’ll buy you popcorn, all you can eat.” it’s that easy. cracking a smile, peter accepts. he’ll deal with his unresolved, unreciprocated feelings after he stuffs his face, courtesy of you. “you better. i’m gonna need it for this long ass game.” your face lights up, grabbing his wrist in both hands.

“so, you’ll come?” “i’ll be there,” he confirms. you throw your arms around his neck. he laughs into the hug and holds you by your middle. “i promise this’ll be the first and last game we ever go to,” you say and mean it. harry is lucky you’re even suffering through this a first time. “thank god,” peter exhales, resting his chin on your head.

that interaction leaves peter confused as hell. you’re crushing his mind and soul one minute, then hugging him the next. you were making him feel so special lasts night, and treating harry the same way today. it’s so jumbled that he isn’t sure if he’s in the friend zone or something more zone.

there are a ton of mixed signals coming his way, and he sucks at reading people as is.

he can’t take another second of this. he’d rather you come out and say you like harry already because it’s torture. knowing you don’t want him in that way would at least eliminate the possibility of anything happening between you two, and allow him to stop driving himself insane.

he’d be able to stop taking it out on harry, too.

the hold you have on peter, that you’re oblivious to, rules his every thought and decision. he’s constantly analyzing what you say to him, debating whether or not your affection is simply platonic. it’s been half a year of this madness, the night of harry’s game blurring every line so much more.

your group arrives a bit early to find seats and hype harry up before he plays. peter gets there after all of you because he’s not exactly in a rush to watch sweaty guys be aggressive. there’s only one upside, which is spending the night with you... and everyone else.

he steps into the gym that’s filling up fast with family members, friends, and the college scout harry was talking about. midtown has a different feeling to it at night. the smell of pencils is oddly stronger, and it’s a lot less intimidating.

cheerleaders are huddled in a circle while the team supervisor has them run their chants. the “leading official,” who peter thought was called a referee, takes his place off to the side. coaches give their players last minute instructions, players fool around with each other, a lot is going on.

peter scans the room for you, and grins a toothy grin when you catch his eyes. you’re sitting by yourself in one of the middle bleachers, only a bag of skinny pop in your lap. you return the smile once you spot him and wave him over.

“i don’t know why, but i thought they’d have an actual concession stand,” you explain the lack of fresh, buttery popcorn as peter takes a seat next to you. he catches the prepackaged bag you toss him. “it’s just a snack table.” “works either way,” peter hums and pokes the bag. “i’m not sure skinny pop is all i can eat, though.” “it’s good!” you defend the snack you chose for him.

“i’m kidding! you’re right, it’s kind of addicting.” he puts it by his feet for now and gives you a half smile. “you’re welcome,” you deadpan in a playful tone. “thanks.” he narrows his eyes. “where’s everyone else?” “right,” you twist around and gesture to the bleacher above you. mj is gloomily seated near the back. ned and betty are a few behind you.

“i told them to find their own seats so we can sit together, alone.” you look over at peter and move ever so slightly closer. “welcome to our friday hangout. just the two of us.” “aw, you didn’t have to do that,” peter laughs out, his knee bumping yours. “but, i’m happy you did.” he goes to put an arm around you, then harry comes racing up the stairs.

just the two of you didn’t last so long.

“y/n, i’m freaking out,” harry announces, zooming through your row to get over to you. he stops once he’s standing in front of peter and shakes him by his shoulder. “hey, pete. you made it.” “yup,” peter replies, pressing his lips together. you wince at his reaction, then quirk an eyebrow at harry. “you’re freaking out? why?”

harry sits down between you and peter, blissfully unaware of the moment he interrupted.

“i found the scout. he’s fucking terrifying as fuck. this super ripped guy, looks like he’d rather be anywhere else,” he talks quietly, like the man will hear him. “he’s not the only one,” peter says to himself, kicking around his bag of popcorn to pass time. you ignore him and grimace.

“shit. wait, how do you know it’s him? did they tell you?” you’re not sure how these things go. harry casually shrugs a shoulder. “dude has a clipboard. seems legit to me.” he gives you a cocky smile. “he’s also in the row before mj. that’s how i noticed. um...” his back now facing peter, he whispers something in your ear that makes you giggle.

peter’s face scrunches up as the spark of anger the past few days have lit reignites itself.

when harry pulls away, you motion for him to come closer with your index finger, cupping your hand around his ear and speaking into it.

nope, no more. peter is entirely about to explode. you cancelled your plans so you can force him to watch basketball, you sweet talk him so he’ll let it go, and you’re running right back to harry after all of that? what the hell does that mean?

peter stands up from his seat. “y/n, we need to talk,” he demands, you moving away from harry to respond. “ok, gimme a minute. we’re-“ “no, we need to talk now.” you don’t have time to refute because he’s taking your arm and dragging you away. harry squints at you in utter confusion.

“um, have a good game! we’ll talk later,” you call back to him, walking with peter even though you have no idea what his issue is and aren’t a fan of how he’s acting.

he releases you once you’re in the hallway. you make a point of harshly yanking your arm back, a scowl painting your lips. “jesus, peter. i was having a conversation.” “do you like harry?” peter blurts out. you’re so shocked at his abruptness that you don’t give him much to work with, only, “what?” “do you like harry?” he asks you again, this time less accusing and more curious.

“do i like...” you’re too aware of the seemingly hundreds of people surrounding you to answer comfortably. “can we talk about this somewhere else?” “sure,” peter nods, letting you lead the way since he did to get out here. you two go down the hall and choose the first room you see, which happens to be the custodian’s closet. it’s thankfully unlocked.

things were tense between you and peter on the way over, and it’s physically mirrored when you step into the room, air thick and smelling of lemon cleaning supplies. you tug on the string hanging down to turn on the light. it casts a faded glow, leaving you in mostly darkness. you sort of like it. this feels more intimate, which is fitting for what you’re both about to say.

neither one of you knows where to begin. peter’s question is ringing in the back of your mind, and you could touch on that, but there’s more to it than a simple yes or no. you don’t have to worry about it because peter gets his words out first.

“i think harry likes you, and i think you like him back,” peter restarts, already sounding deflated by what he came up with. “he doesn’t, and i don’t.” you take a step towards him. “he likes mj.” it’s peter’s turn to be shocked. the hint of a smile sets on your lips. “that’s what we were talking about. harry asked if he should take her to dinner after the game, and i said yes.”

this is going better than he expected.

“mj is the one who likes him, not me,” you reiterate and watch some life enter peter again, a tiny bit. he’s coming around, and he wants to believe you. his trust issues don’t. “but, you’re so... touchy with each other. the hugging the other day?” he mentions. you tilt your head to the side in amusement. “friends can’t hug?”

to be fair, you hugged peter yesterday. that’s a point rightfully shut down.

“he calls you pretty,” peter tries, raising both eyebrows. you have to laugh at this one. “you call may pretty.”

obviously, peter’s analysis skills could use some serious improvements. it sounds like he had the right idea, wrong person. your relationship with harry is platonic. hell, he’s crushing on a whole different person. this actually opens up the possibility of you liking peter in the romantic way, of him being in the something more zone. he had it backwards.

in case peter isn’t convinced yet, and because you really want to, you use one more trick to prove to him you don’t like harry.

“do me and harry do this?” your lips speak for you, colliding with peter’s unexpectedly yet easily. he feels like he’s floating, like he’s in some sort of magical wonderland until it hits him that this is real, and he should probably kiss you back. he does so softly and tangles his fingers in your locks. his hand supports the back of your head as the kiss goes on.

you push forward so your bodies are almost fused together, the closest you can be while you hold his jaw. peter breaks the kiss for a short breather, going back in without more than a moment passing. this one is feverish, his free arm looping around your lower back, hand resting on the small of it. you let out a giggle against his swollen lips and stroke your thumb over his jawline.

he’s been waiting to do this for the longest time, but he doesn’t have to tell you that. it shows in how eager he was to reciprocate, his shyness blossoming into passion. you feel yourself melting under his touch, the kiss eventually becoming a series of short pecks. peter gives you the final one. his pink lips form a grin when you pull apart. your hands stay on each other, not in a rush to go anywhere.

“woah, i like you so much,” peter laughs out. the words roll off his tongue naturally. “you know i like you,” you drawl, smiling at him, a full body smile while you caress his skin. he winds both arms around you and dips his head down to steal another kiss. you’re loving what’s happening. however, you don’t feel like making out while dirty brooms stare at you. you should take this back home.

“wanna get out of here? i do,” you suggest, voice muffled from his lips. they detach from yours and brush your cheek gently. peter makes a funny face. “hm, i thought we had to come. harry needs us,” he says what you did yesterday, earning a groan back. “you’re joking.” “i’m not. what kind of friends would we be, ditching him like that?”

he’s going to end you one day.

“yeah, no. i have no idea how basketball works, and i’d like to keep it that way,” peter drops the act, pressing his fingers into your sides. “i’ve been so mean to harry. i was...” “a dick?” you finish for him. it’s more of a statement than a question. to soften the blow, you rub his cheek with the tips of your fingers. “yup. he’s gonna think i hate him or something if we don’t stay.” his formerly smiley face is frowning.

“harry of all people will understand after we tell him our reasons,” you reassure him, nudging under his chin with your nose. “besides, he has other things to worry about. mj, the scout. it’s fine.” peter considers it, ultimately giving in to you like he always does, resting his forehead on yours. “i guess so. less distractions for him, yeah.” “exactly. that’s what i wanna hear.”

having his approval, you unwind yourself from him and head to the door. his fingers wrap around your wrist gently. “what about my popcorn?” a giggle escapes your lips. “you’re still on that?” “you said all i can eat!” his voice comes out high pitched, adorably high pitched.

“fine. i might have those bags you put in the microwave.” you smile when his fingers lock with yours, peter kissing the side of your head.

“even better. let’s go home.”

[xpeachesncream]

bands | thirteen

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.9k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, slight degradation, trouble stirring behind the scenes if you squint, yeonjun and soobin (txt) make an appearance but also as reg 18 yr olds lol

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme​ @min-nicoleee​ @eggbutnotyolk​ @ra-mun-e @miinoongi​ @jimidol​ @ppeachyttae​ @thebeebi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @kooafraid​ @liriaus​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @ggukkieland​ @preciouschimine​ @sunniejinnie​ @cypheruby​ @cyb3rbab3​ @masterlists101​ @awhnamjoon​ @redhedhoseok​ @wooya1224​ @taeismydeath @jikookiekosmos​ @un2-verse​ @aynsx​ @wearenot7withu​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"BTS' Jeon Jungkook rumored to be dating stripper from nightclub!"

"Jungkook is no longer single, ladies!"

"Jeon Jungkook is dating a stripper? Why the hell is he doing that?"

"Who the hell does she think she is? I bet she's not even pretty."

"Jungkook fell for a stripper? Out of all people? Damn, and I thought he was better than that."

Jungkook has been tired, the rumors constantly being spread day in and day out. But, it still didn't mean he was gonna say shit to prove himself to people out there. He didn't need to give anybody answers. Hell, this was strictly between you and him and that's how he wants to keep it.

Fuck every single one of you who didn't wanna be behind him and support him. Don't even think about calling yourself a fan of his if that's your mindset.

He could truly care less. He was happy and he felt ten times better than he has in a really long time. It's unfortunate how people love to stay narrow minded. The only thing that bothered him was the fact that it was so unfair for you - how they stuck to that stripper image, rather than really getting to know you beneath the surface.

But it's not like anyone else deserved to know the real you, not after all this shit. And he was gonna keep it that way, and protect you.

"Hey, don't listen to any of that shit, okay?" Jungkook says as he meets you in your car in the BigHit building garage. "None of that matters to me."

"I know, but Kook." You look at him. "Your career, BigHit literally might not even want me here and-and—"

"Then I'll make sure they understand it's not an issue, because it's really fucking not." He says, getting irritated only at the thought of the company giving him issues over you. He watches as you slightly frown, causing him to sigh and soften his own facial expression. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get worked up like that. It's just annoying how people are narrow-minded. This has absolutely nothing to do with you." You give him a small smile. "Come on, I'll walk you." You silently nod and hop out of your car. You follow beside him, your stomach in knots having to meet with their performance director. This meant you'd also most likely run into the rest of Bangtan.

In which happens to turn true pretty quickly.

"Jungkookie!" Hoseok says loudly down the hallway as he approaches the both of you. He does nothing besides smile, curiosity definitely filling his eyes.

"This is Y/N. Y/N, Hoseok hyung." He holds out his hand for you to shake, his head tilting ever so slightly because you know he's familiar with your face. He's just trying to remember from where. Or, he has recognized you, but he's trying his hardest not to say anything.

Cause they have seen all of you, especially in that fishnet bodysuit.

"Hi! Nice to meet you! You can call me Hobi for short. Are you meeting with someone?" You nod.

"Yeah." Is all you can reply with as you shyly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Nice, goodluck!"

"Is everyone else here?" Jungkook asks, making Hobi nod.

"Yeah, but they're still running through some stuff in the dance studio. I just ran off to take a break."

"Okay." Jungkook looks at you. "Follow me, he's in one of the private studio rooms." You both part ways from Hoseok, the need to clutch onto Jungkook's arm immensely strong right now. You hold yourself off though, because even with passing a few female staff members, you catch them looking at you oddly with the way you're walking side by side with Jungkook.

Nope. Don't even think about it, Y/N. It doesn't matter.

Jungkook knocks softly on a door, the middle of it being made up of entirely frosted glass so it's difficult to see inside. Their performance director opens the door swiftly and welcomes you in with a warm smile, stepping aside to let you in.

"I've got it from here, Jungkookie. Thank you." Jungkook nods but tries to peek through the door to get one last glimpse of your face before he shuts it fully. "How are you doing, Y/N?" He sits in front of you, leaning onto his knees with his hands fully clasped together.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Good, tired." He chuckles. "Thanks for taking my call earlier and for meeting at such short notice on a weekend. I had a couple of things come up and didn't want to push things off until later." You smile.

"It's no problem."

"Jungkook tells me a lot about you."

"Does he now?" You chuckle and tilt your head to the side.

"Says you're a really good person. Super hardworking. Told me a little bit about your situation with your brother."

"Mmyeah, it's a little complicated."

"It's alright, no need to get into the details." He smiles before letting out a small sigh. "It's incredibly rare for me to hear Jungkook speak like that. In general. He's usually very closed off, doesn't like to let people in much. He really respects you, you know? Cares about you a whole lot." You slightly blush.

"I'm still getting used to it." He chuckled.

"Look, I know you've been worrying because of where you've been and all that, but I want to reassure you that none of it matters. I don't like to focus on all that. You're here as you, not her." He says, putting another pronoun to your stripper persona.

"Thank you, I appreciate it." He nods. There's a small pause before he begins to speak again.

"I could really use some help around here if you're still interested? The boys are becoming a lot for me to handle."

"Ah-uh, yeah! Of course I am." You found yourself stuttering at the sudden offer. Was this fucking real?! "But, you are aware of where me and Jungkook are at, right?" You ask, trying to be completely transparent and honest about their relationship. He nods and waves his hand out.

"As long as you keep it professional here, right?" You nod.

"Right."

"Come, let me show you around really quickly and have you formally meet the boys." You swallowed the lump in your throat. Fucking great. He definitely didn't know they've all seen your titties and pussy out during Yoongi's birthday, and now here you were - about to meet them again in this environment. Hobi was awkward enough even though he tried not to be.

Surprisingly, Jungkook wasn't waiting outside in the hallway like you thought he would be, but the tour commences and the PD is taking you around pretty quickly. You feel even more awkward and somewhat alone [even though you weren't] without Jungkook nearby, but you chug along and say your hello's to the people you're introduced to. He finally brings you into the dance studio, where there's loud ass music blasting, Jungkook, the boys and some backup dancers in front of the mirrors fooling around.

"Aye boys, come here real quick." You and Jimin lock eyes and your body suddenly gets tense. The room feels 10x hotter than it already is, especially when he slowly walks over and clenches his jaw. He is literally seeping with hate right now, maybe actually disgust, and he doesn't even try to hide it. Most of them for sure recognize you, but they seem to brush it off and give you a big wave/smile anyway.

"Last, that's Jimin - Jimin, Y/N." You give Jimin a fake smile, and the only thing his ass can reciprocate is the smallest, tight-lipped smile you have ever seen. You've never even seen your mom do that when she got mad or upset with you.

"Hi." Is all you can say.

"Sup." He looks at you before turning on his heel and walking away.

"Ooookay?" Namjoon furrows his brows as he watches Jimin walk away so rudely. "The hell was that about?"

"I knew that was Kookie's girlfriend! Maybe Jiminie remembers seeing her titties and shit too, needs to walk away before he gets his ass beat by him." Yoongi says lowly behind Namjoon.

"Yeah, like you're any better." Namjoon says, looking at Yoongi weirdly.

"I mean, we did see her practically naked." Jin says, chiming into the discussion.

"I touched her." Yoongi's mouth slightly hangs down. "I touched her."

"Go ahead, say it louder so Kookie can hear you." Jin nods sarcastically. "Go, say it!"

"No, stop." Yoongi's cheeks turn red while shaking his head and laughing. "He'll literally launch me out the window with one hand."

"Good."

"You asked for her to sit on your lap too, bro!"

"I was joking, and it's not like she did it anyway!"

"Whatever, I'm keeping my birthday deep in my memory storage."

"Clean slate for her so it should be for you too, my guy." Namjoon says as he has enough of their conversation.

You look at Jungkook who is silently standing there, looking like a big dork with a huge smile on his face and his thumbs up. You give him the tiniest nod before proceeding to follow the PD out.

"So?!" Jungkook dashes to meet you in their waiting room area, where an abnormally large picture of Jimin posing oddly hung up.

"He said he'll send me all the info and papers and stuff!" You respond excitedly as Kook hugs you and quickly swings you around.

"See, I knew it would work out!" He puts you down. "Are you gonna tell Kai?" You shook your head.

"Not today at least, it's his birthday and I don't wanna take away from that. It's his day." Jungkook smiles at you.

"Text me when you've picked him up? I should be home by then."

"Okay." You blush and back away, making Jungkook look at you with confusion. "I have to keep it professional here, duh."

"Ah I see." He chuckles. "That won't last very long."

"Jungkook." You whine.

"There's a lot of private rooms here and—"

"I'm not listening, sorry. I think Kai is suddenly calling me." You cover your ears as you begin to walk away, giving him one last smile before leaving him to the rest of rehearsals and whatever else they're doing. He laughs to himself as he waves you off, excited to get through the day so he can just spend time with you and Kai.

As the hours go on and it's about time for you to pick Kai up, you quickly stop by the store because you're a procrastinator and didn't buy Kai's birthday gift any earlier. You felt bad you weren't able to find the shoes he wanted, but you at least snagged the video game he had been talking about for a couple of days now. Before walking into the arcade, you made sure to write your birthday card and slip some more money into it before shoving it in your bag to give to him later.

"Your pretty sister is here." Yeonjun grabs Kai by the shoulder as he finishes up a game.

"Yeah, and you're too young for her."

"Age is nothing but a number. It's only like.. 6 years apart."

"Besides, she's taken, dude. Sorry." Kai snorts as he watches Yeonjun's smile fade. "You would have never had the chance."

"You're mean."

"I'm mean, or you just have really high, unrealistic expectations?" The rest of their friends laugh as they follow Kai over to you.

"Hey!" You smile at all his friends.

"Hiiiiii Y/N." They all say in unison, some waving in awe, while the others shyly dug their hands into their pockets. "Birthday boy, you all good to go? Got some good Loco Moco waiting for you."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Happy birthday again, Kai! Get online later!" Soobin yells out.

"Yeah, yeah." He says, waving them off as he follows you out to your car.

"You guys run through the entire arcade?" Kai laughs.

"Pretty much." He sinks into his seat, legs damn near touching the glove compartment with how long he is. "I'm honestly so excited for Loco Moco. It's been years!"

"It has not been that long." You laughed.

"You're right, it's been months." Kai looks out the window. "Wait, you're passing the road to get to our go-to shop though?"

"Cause I found a better place."

"How is there a better place when that one was already supreme?!"

"Hey, trust me on this okay?" You laugh. Kai starts telling you about his day and how so many people he knew from school had been messaging him happy birthday. He truly looked his happiest today and it was all you could ask for. Though at the same time, your heart slightly sank at the fact that he'd be going off to uni soon and staying at the dorms. He was just growing up way too fast, and you wanted to spend as much time as you could with him now before he was too occupied being a college boy.

You slipped yourself past Jungkook's security, parking in the one guest spot they have in the garage that's closest to the elevator. Kai doesn't really question it and hops out anyway, his hands in his pockets as he follows you into the elevator and onto Jungkook's floor.

"You ready, kid?"

"Is this some like, Michelin Star Loco Moco restaurant?"

"Ah, I guess you could say that." You knocked on the door, hearing music playing in the background. Jungkook opens the door and Kai's eyes widen.

"Oh shit, that's Jungkook?" Kook laughs and steps aside to let you both in. "Sis why—what—how come you didn't tell me we were seeing your boyfriend? I look like a mess!" He says lowly.

"You don't!"

"Hey Kai! Happy Birthday!" Jungkook says smiling, making Kai actually blush. He's cheeks are tinted with a rosy color and he suddenly gets all shy.

"Thanks."

"Your brother's tall." Jungkook looks at him up and down.

"Looking at an 18 year old 6 footer."

"Must be nice."

"Go sit." Kai silently nods as he sits awkwardly on Kook's couch, while you go and check in on him in the kitchen.

"Is he always that shy?"

"No. Just with you, apparently. He's not even that shy around girls." You chuckle as he places a quick kiss on your head. "Need my help?" You still ask even though the plates are neatly prepared already.

"Not really." He smiles down at you. "You hungry though?"

"Starving, actually." Your eyes light up at the plates. "Ouuuuuu, yum."

"Honestly, I think this batch might be better than my first."

"Still honored to be your guinea pig." You carry a plate over to Jungkook's coffee table in the living room.

"Oh shit, that looks amazing." Kai says, slipping himself down from the couch to the floor so he could get a good whiff of the plate. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jungkook hands you the remote before walking into his room. "Pick something."

"Here, birthday boy. Help me choose."

"Let's watch Soul on Disney+." At this point, Jungkook comes out of his room with a wrapped present, his eyes locked on the TV.

"Ooh, I keep seeing this everywhere! Niceeeee." Jungkook says, smiling with Kai nodding and already digging into his plate. "By the way, this is for you." You shoot him a look as he sits on the floor by you, watching as Kai unwraps the present. Kai's eyes light up as he sees a shoebox underneath the wrapping, quickly flipping the lid open to reveal those blue Air Jordans he wanted.

"Kook?!" You say lowly, making him smile at you and gently pinch your side.

"Holy shit!" He holds out a shoe, only for him to immediately shake his head and close the box again. "Jungkook, I can't take this." Kai says.

"No, it's your birthday."

"Yeah, but isn't this expensive? You've already done so much for me and my sister, I-I don't want to—"

"Kai, it's cool. If it's one thing you can do to repay me, it's to take my present." You literally want to cry at how sweet Jungkook is being with your brother. He had been good to you, no doubt, but this was one thing you didn't expect from him at all. Quite frankly, you had forgotten you mentioned the shoes to him. The fact that he actually remembered and kept his word.

"Okay." Kai says, gently setting the box down aside before looking at Jungkook with a small smile on his face. "Thank you. I really appreciate it. Like, even with the food and everything. It means a lot to me."

"You're welcome." You give him a soft smile before digging into your food while Soul was already off to a start. Kai and Jungkook devour their food together, with you following shortly behind as Jungkook brings over a small ice cream cake from his fridge for Kai to blow his candles on. After the boys had helped themselves to a good serving of the cake, they started getting hyper and pulled up Smash Bros on Kook's Nintendo Switch [as if Kai hadn't played enough games today]. It started to get intense; the boys jumping and yelling everywhere, bouncing off of the walls, with you getting pulled into the competition every now and then. Even though you knew you'd lost over and over again, you happily joined in anyway, seeing how excited your brother was - plus, it was always a bonus to hear Jungkook's loudly obnoxious, nerdy laugh.

"I WIN!"

"Hey, hey, hey. I let you win because it's your birthday." Jungkook said, making Kai laugh as he crashed to the floor.

"Sure." Kai huffed and puffed. "Crap, I'm tired. What time is it?"

"Almost midnight. We should start heading out, bubba." You patted Kai's chest gently.

"What? No, it's late. Why don't you two just stay here?" You suddenly remembered you've had Kai's shit in your trunk since you dropped him off at Yeonjun's this morning. You didn't have any change of clothes, but that could easily be fixed with Jungkook's closet.

"Only if the queen wants, she's driving."

"It's late, baby." Jungkook says to you softly. "No way I'm letting you two head out there."

"Okay." You give him a small smile before handing your keys. "Can you do me a favor?" He chuckles.

"What is it?"

"Kai's duffle bag is in my trunk." He nods and takes your keys.

"I got it. Kai, you can take the guest room or my office room." Jungkook says with his 3-bedroom apartment having ass. "I have my computer in my office room though, and a pull out bed. I don't know how comfy you'll be."

"It's cool, I'll just take your guest room. I always bring my laptop and switch whenever I sleep at my sister's." Kai says getting up. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jungkook says, toothlessly smiling at the both of you, completely endeared at how alike you two were - even down to the fact that you both said thank you for every little thing. If this was a result of Kai being close to you and having you as pretty much his mother figure, then Jungkook wouldn't know what to do with his feelings. He felt butterflies every time he thought about how cute and sweet you were, and he was always excited to be around you.

Jungkook does a quick jog to your car, grabbing Kai's Nike duffle from your trunk before jogging back to the elevator and back to his apartment. He walks in to see Kai helping you clean up the remaining dishes in the sink, tidying the rest of the things in his kitchen.

"Thank you." Jungkook says himself, a little unfamiliar with saying such a thing to be completely honest.

"You're welcome." You say softly, wiping your hands on his hand towel. "Off to bed, or are you gonna go online with your friends?"

"I'll see what they're up to, but I'm pretty beat. Today was fun." Kai smiles at the both of you. "I really appreciate it." You ruffle his hair a bit before gently pushing him towards his bedroom for the night.

"Bathroom's right over there, help yourself to anything you need."

"Don't stay up too late."

"Only if you aren't too loud." You gasp while Jungkook laughs out loud.

"Kai!"

"Hey, I'm just being honest. Please remember that I'm right in this room."

"Oh my god, go to bed." You shove him inside the room and shut his door. "Don't even say a word." You look at Jungkook shyly as you hurriedly brush past him to get into his room - even though Jungkook is literally right behind you with those long ass legs of his, making every stride so much easier for him to catch up to you.

"What's your outfit of choice tonight, pretty lady?" He shuts his door behind him as you start to make your way into his closet.

"Hm, I'll just wear this plain black--" You unfold it. "Balenciaga? Okay, I definitely can't just wear this to sleep."

"Why not?"

"Because this is like, name brand and everything."

"So?" He shrugs. "Just wear it, babygirl. It's not gonna make much of a difference, you're wearing it either way." You do a slight pout before you start to slip out of your clothes to get into his shirt. You make his way to his bathroom to take a little tinkle when you notice another toothbrush sitting next to his. A pink toothbrush, next to his blue one.

"Why do you have two toothbrushes?" You wash your hands as he comes in to the bathroom to start getting ready for bed.

"That's yours." Your eyes light up at his statement.

"Mine?"

"I figured since you'd be over more, it'd be easier for you." He furrows his brows lightly. "Unless.. you didn't want--" You press a kiss against his lips, his hands resting on your arms to keep you close.

"No, I did want that. Thank you."

"Of course, baby." He pecks your forehead.

"By the way, way to make me look like such a bad sister!" You say as you start getting your toothbrush ready.

"Why? The shoes?"

"The shoes, the Loco Moco, the games, the ice cream cake." You laughed. "I literally got him a video game and some money."

"I mean, he is turning 18. I wanted to help make it as memorable as possible."

"I appreciate you a lot. Really."

"I appreciate you too." Your eyes widen as you brush your teeth.

"Waaaaow, say thaht wun mohr tiyme." You say, pulling a Jungkook while brushing your teeth.

"Eye apprushiate yoh toh." You giggle. The both of you finish getting ready for bed before slipping into his warm sheets. Jungkook never goes to sleep early, however, he makes sure all the lights are off and that the show he's watching isn't too loud. You have no idea what's going on in his show, but you lay on his chest to watch for a little bit until you feel yourself getting a little more sleepy. He's holding you close, his hand brushing through your hair softly, causing tingles to ripple through your body.

"Kook."

"Yes, baby?"

"You make me happy." You say sleepily as you hung him tighter. He smiles down at you, your eyes now shut close as you slowly start to drift into a deep sleep. He presses a light kiss against your head, fingers still in your hair.

"You make me happy too, sweetheart."

[christinebloodwrittings]

Briefly Instant (Part six)

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Summary: Life is complicated, always moving and working in ways we can't comprehend. Between the bubbles and the heartache, an unfortunate encounter left a half-broken heart and a strong connection which separated this soulmates for a long time. Two sides of the story, two hearts that longed for each other painfully. One brief instant was enough to know.

Warnings for this chapter: Masturbation, Harassment, Threatening.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

TH Taglist: @lucky-foxface @lokisprettygirl22 @criticaltrinket @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss

You could feel him still. All the stress about that guy forced you to focus on something else to gain some sleep, so your mind went straight to Oscar. The day you met his dorky self, looking alien in a music store trying to buy a guitar he didn’t know how to play.

Your hand slipped past your pajama shorts into your panties. You remembered the night he told you he loved you, things got pretty heated from there, he touched you, a lot.

But his touch was…was…how was it? Why you couldn’t remember? Hang on, he cornered you into a wall, no that was the stupid guy from the restaurant, shard of glass guy. Then? His embrace was strong, his hands roamed around your back both seductively and respectfully, like he wanted to eat you but taking his time. And his voice was so sexy…everything was so wet, wet? Water, ocean, Tom.

His muscles, his curls sticking to his neck, his pircing blue orbs that could perfectly match with that scenario. He looked so perfect you thought he was going to turn into a marble statue or dissolve himself in the water like he was made of paint.

And it was so warm, even though the water was slightly freezing, you could stay in his arms forever, safe.

Oh and his lips, you could only imagine how those thin luscious lips could do with your aching body. Always hungry, made of sand, one push and you could crumble. Is it that you wanted him? Or you just missed touch?

“Fuck!” you hissed, taking you hand out of your panties, your other hand punched the sheets to your side in frustration. You just couldn’t get trough with it, endlessly hot and bothered but never satisfied, never there.

You just rolled on the sheets and closed your eyes, at some point you slept, your mind was indeed somewhere else.

 

“Good morning gorgeous!” Emma greeted you, “Good morning love” you were more than sleepy. You were worried about Oscar's friend issue, Emma wasn’t going to know, she would see you as if you were a stranger. "What are the plans for today?" You had to find a window where you could deal with the problem on your own without putting your friends and Tom at risk.

"It's good that you mention it, I went out to drop the garbage at the tray outside, and I met a man, a very charming young fellow, he was offering guided tours" she placed plates and the breadbasket on the kitchen isle, “So I thought we could do a little tourism, buy the necessaries to arrange Christmas dinner, and have fun, what do you think?” you couldn’t possibly answer something related to your issue, so you just smiled.

"Sounds great Em, are any of the girls a vegetarian? I can't remember" you quickly changed the subject and prayed she didn't noticed, "Vivian, but she's getting her stuff".

Emma was going to go buy some things before anyone else woke up, so she leave you to set up the table.

"Good morning" you heard Tom coming down the stairs. "Did you rest?" you asked without even facing him, you couldn’t; he hummed in response, turning around the isle, he was close, very close.

"Hey" he leaned towards your face, "Hi, can I help you?" his scent flooded your senses, his disheveled curls falling down his neck, absolutely untamed. "Y/n" he spoke softly, his morning gravel voice gave you goosebumps, how can he look so good if he just woke up? He was getting even closer, panic started to crawl up your spine, making itself visible in your eyes.

“Yes?...” your eyes fell to his lips.

"Could you pass me the red cup? To your left” he smirked, “Yeah, sure” you handed him the cup, watched him serve himself some coffee and leave. Only then you were able to breathe correctly. Your heart slowly lowered to your core; your sigh of relief echoed in the empty kitchen. “Damn it Hiddleston!” you muttered.

 

After breakfast Tom decided to join the little activity Emma had arranged with this so called Tour-guide, which made it worse for your nerves.

“Emma” cheerly a man came towards us, his brown eyes set on your friend. “Manuel” they hugged and you felt as if you’d jump on him and push him off the cliff. “And you must be Oscar’s lovely girlfriend Y/n! It’s so nice to meet you!” he opened his arms, forcing you to awkwardly returned the hug.

Flashes of that night, when you returned to the safety of your home, to the scent of freshly baked cookies that you left before leaving for work the night before. You made the smart decision to shower, it was only after that that you noticed the greenish red bruise around your eye and the inflamed one under your lungs.

Girlfriend? That word hit Tom hard like a construction hammer. You were with someone, it would be immoral and pathetic if he kept trying to have you, you belonged to someone else and he had to respect that.

However, you were on Christmas vacation without your boyfriend, so that made him think, either you were having problems with your relationship so you decided not to be with him, or you just went your separate ways because you wanted different things.

But then his curiosity turned to a bitter, unpleasant feeling at the base of his stomach, Manuel looked too familiar, and to be honest the way he looked at you made him clench his fists inside his jacket pockets.

He was an actor, a master of deceiving with his body and making up expressions and feeling in the second, but even for him it was hard to hide his discomfort, he was hoping you wouldn’t notice, you did, but you didn’t let him know.

“Well, let’s start!”.

Those were two hours of sightseeing you didn’t wanted to do at all, let alone with that asshole near. Your idea for that trip was getting drunk, be mentally and physically away from your messy life and be with Emma. But then Tom kinda happen, and Vivian and Naomi were like moths to a lamp around him and you didn’t had fuck idea why it even bothered you!

All that information and for what? You didn’t listen anything about the old Spanish architecture, let alone from the country that brought so many bad stuff to South America, but there you were, smiling like a paid actress that had won four Oscars in a row.

“Y/n, are you alright love?” Tom held your shoulder, turning around you to get a good look of you, “Just a little tired, didn’t slept much” you tried to deceive him.

"Y/n, how's work?" You two looked in Manuel's direction, he stared at you and smirked, "Very good" you knew Oscar had told him about your little conversation from last night, are they that close?

He motioned you to go with him, which you were reluctant to do so. Gave a quick reassurance look to Tom and went with him anyways.

"So I've heard, tell me, are you as sweet as your lemon biscuits?" He asked seductively, sliding an arm around your shoulders, getting his mouth too close to your ear. "I don't think you want to find out" he snickered towards your coldness, didn't even noticed the warning behind it.

"Feisty, I love it, just how I remember you" of course he did, he wasn't even that drunk that night. "You don't have to get all defensive with me, love, I came with sad tidings I'm afraid" he got you at a good distance away from the group, unlocked his phone and showed you a bunch of documents signed by Oscar.

"I'm not a saint, but even I know this is below the belt" he had sold his apartment, you recognized the address, "What is this?" You had a faint idea, but you didn't wanted to even consider it.

"He recently told us he got a new promotion to work in Australia, he already sold most of his stuff, to family, friends, e-bay, you name it, but he's planning to leave, soon" you were shocked, those were indeed your boyfriend's signatures, all of the papers were legal and very recent.

"And believe me, this is not even the worst of it, sugar" he then swiped to show a picture of Oscar in the arms of another girl. "That's Charlie, they have been going out like six months already, maybe seven" just the amount of time he hadn't touched you.

"I don't believe you, that could've been easily edited" your heart was killing you, barely beating, visibly you were pale and you felt your hands shaking.

"I knew you would say that, that's why I also took a video of them" it was him with a red haired girl in Viña del mar, in Chile. Wait, Chile? There were also Christmas decorations hanging from the streetlights.

This was recent. That was nowadays. So he was there with he, pretending to be with his family, and had the audacity to be mad at you for spending the holidays with your friend? What the fuck??

"Why are you showing me this?" You looked away from his phone, not wanting to look anymore how in love they looked.

"Charlie is my ex, he broke the bro code, so I did a little revenge of my own" he looked so proud of what he had done.

"I appreciate this, thank you".

"Also, one little thing love, about that night five years ago" he had this familiar frame, it had to be him.

"I know, I'm sorry for leaving the way I did, I was so scared and probably you're still mad at me but-" he cut you off, rather confused.

"Whoa there, I have no idea what you're talking about, but, now that you're not going to be with that prick, how about you and me, you know" he sneaked a hand around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

"Get it done? I've never seen a woman that could look that sexy pissed out drunk, and that hit? sent the feels to all the right places" he purred against the shell of your ear, licking one long stripe up your neck.

He then said, "What do you say, sugar?", you tried to squirm out of his grasp, without drawing too much attention from your friends. His free hand got a bit of a feel of your ass before Tom came and took you away from him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Don't, don't touch her, don't even look in her direction or SO help me" Manuel tried to speak in between but Tom constantly cut him off and pushed him further away from you, "If I see you near her again I swear I'll hurt you" Tom was at least three heads taller than him, so it was easy to feel intimidated, oddly enough, despite his polite and gentle nature, Tom could be really scary.

The situation looked horrible, Tom's face was scary, you felt like a little girl that had just seen a monster. You were shaking, biting your lip so the tears would stay inside your eyes.

How you hated that feeling, the impotence of seeing two persons fight and find yourself unable to do something about it.

"If I have to hear you talk to her like that again, I'll lose it" Tom warned, letting go forcefully of Manuel's shirt.

"Y/n are you alr-...Y/n?" That look again, like when you were staring at the bathroom door, you were scared, shaking, at the very verge of crying.

Did Manuel scared you? What could that asshole could had probably said to make you look like that? Or maybe...it was him? Did he scared you? It wasn't what he intended, then he remembered how bad he could while being angry, he knew while seeing himself playing Loki.

"Y/n? Darling, are you okay?" He approached you calmly, gaining for a response a shook in "no" of your head.

"Oscar is cheating on me" tears rolled down your cheeks. That little shine in your eyes was now gone, instead you looked half dead, pale and numb.

"Can you take me back to the house?" You sounded so small, it broke his heart, "Yes of course, my sweet" he wanted to take your hand but you wanted another thing.

You outstretched your arms at him, he understood and with pleasure took you up in his arms, cradling you just like that day.

That feeling came back, it was warm. But if it wasn't Manuel, who was the hotel person?