#we are teased with their growing relationship (or should we say re-relationship) but not enough to truly sit down with it (for me at least)

[fluffypotatey]

Please post the redacted opinion from the tag

redacted opinion:

i wish we got to see the extent of swk and Macky’s fight. like we get the end of it and then them briefly discussing it (but i have NO IDEA WHAT THEY ARE SAYING 🫠) until they’re interrupted and that’s it

like maybe make this mini act of the season longer? them being trapped in memories and shit just one more episode 🥺? bc the story ends at ep10. there’s no room to add in a special. just a teaser for the next season :/ and i quite like my lmk specials

[whatwouldthewifethink]

Ok, this might be a long post....  Also, yes, my wife knows about this page now and will probably read this and I already know “what would the wife think.”  However, if you do read this my love, feel free to post your top 5 fantasies or kinks too!!!

#1) A fuck buddy for my wife. Back in the day, before my wife was my wife, I had this friend. My (now) wife, my friend and I would hang out all the time. My friend had always had a crush on my wife and after a few cocktails, my wife would get a bit flirty with him. Well, as you can imagine, things got a little hot and heavy one night and the 3 of us fooled for our first threesome. It was never too awkward afterward and the 3 of us kept hanging out. Sometimes the 3 of us would go back and fool around other times the night would end with my wife and I going home to fuck. But there were other times when the 3 of us were out. If he would step away from the table, the wife and I would quickly talk. If we both wanted it to happen, I would kiss her goodnight and leave before he returned to the table. Then the two of them would hang out for a while longer, then go home together for a night of no-strings fun. It was more common to have this go-home-with-him arrangement than a threesome which was totally fine with me! The next morning, I would pick her up and we fuck like crazy or she would sit on my thighs and jerk me off while she told me everything they had done the night before and sometimes that morning before I picked her up. We would also fuck a several more times during the week while talking about recent sessions. On those nights being at home, alone, when she was with him, imaging what she was doing to him and what he was doing to my now wife was a amazing sexual roller coaster of erotic urges and feelings that is very hard to describe. I can only say that it was some of the most exhilarating and highly sexually charged feelings I’ve ever had. It was a very, VERY sexy time in our relationship which is why this is by far my number one fantasy is for my wife to have a ‘fuck buddy.’ If the wife ever every sad to me “we should do this again,” I would totally be so on board - it was so fucking sexy.

2) Chastity. My number 2 kink is chastity.   There are so many things about chastity that are so sexy. The first part is that SHE gets to decide. When she tells me lock up, I never know how long I will be locked up for. I’ve been locked up for short periods and up to 3 months! But whatever that period of time, I can feel no sexual pleasure or cum without her letting me. It is such a seductive mind-fuck when the teasing occurs. There are those times when she let’s me out but doesn’t let me cum. Maybe it will be sex, maybe it will be a hand job but, oh the glorious frustration when she gets that bit-of-bitchy because she knows that ALL of my pleasure revolves around her. Another piece of chastity is that the lack of sexual release builds a huge, desirous urge for her and the longer I’m locked the faster that urge grows. To want to be near hear, touch her, feel her warmth. It is an very intimate needs where I want to rub her shoulders, massage her feet or legs, cuddle.Now, I want to make it clear that I love my wife and I always want to be near her and love her. When I’m locked up for longer periods of time, I have these urges to bite and gnaw on her - on her neck, arms, inner thigh. I can’t get enough of her. Even though I can’t cum, making her have an orgasm makes me feel so horny and frustrated, but also leaves me feeling very satisfied where I am sharing her orgasm with her. If she would let me, I would do it 5 times a day!  One of the most fun parts of chastity is when she allows me to put on a strap-on over my chastity cage and fuck her. OMG, this is one of the very hottest things that we have done and I have cum in my cage a few times while having strap-on sex! Hot!! Hearing her breathing, dirty talk (sometimes she’ll tell me how good that bigger dick feels which is so hot) and when she cums really brings me over the edge!

3) My penis size. This is a pretty new thing for me and if chastity didn’t have so many sexy points to it, THIS might have been my #2 on the list. For starters, I’m an inch or so smaller than average. For the longest time, I was really embarrassed about this. In the locker room, with past girlfriends, etc. Then, not too long ago, I took the toilet paper roll challenge which is to see whether your penis would (a) fit in the tube and (b) extend past end of the tube. Well, my penis did fit inside the tube and it was just level or slightly below the tube length. For whatever reason, it hit me that day, I have a small dick. I think I fooled myself for years believing that I have an ‘average sized’ penis when in fact it is smaller than average. Over the years and over relationships you hear, “your penis is perfect” or “it’s fine.” I don’t think anyone was lying and, of course, my penis is fine.  That day I decided that it can be sexy to have a little dick and I thought hearing it straight up - you have a little dick - was important. By stating the obvious out loud, it makes it okay and acceptable to have a small penis rather than the hush-hush secret that no one talks about.  If my wife had small boobs (which she does not), I would not tell her that her boobs were “fine” or “perfect” without telling her every day how I loved her little tits and how cute and/or adorable her boobs are. I would caress them, hold them, suck them, and lick them and call them as they are, small, because that affirms how sexy AND sexual it is to have small boobs. This is not mean or shaming, it’s celebrating. Now my wife calls my penis either “little guy” or “little dick” which gives me sexual butterflies in all the tingly parts. Maybe because (but I can’t say exactly sure why) I’ve been hiding and embarrassed about my whole life that is now ‘out there’ it’s very erotic and hot to me. The fact that just hearing her talk about it during our ‘sexy time’ nearly always makes me want to cum faster (when I’m not locked up an allowed to cum that is!). When she says something like “fuck me deeper with that little dick” or says  look how cute your penis is’ or like that time she compared me to her 6-inch dildo, all very hot and hits me with a strong feelings inside and it is very incredibly hot to hear those sexy words coming from my wife’s dirty little mouth.

4) Cum kissing. This is probably one of the oldest fantasies that I have. My wife and I have done this only a few times. In the moment, before ejaculating, I think how amazing it would be to cum on my wife’s tits then suck on her gorgeous boobs, or cum on her abdomen and belly then go down on her to bring her to orgasm or passionately kiss her after a blowjob. But then, I cum and I feel all weird about it. I’m afraid to do it even though I have been thinking about doing it the whole time. The first time we did it, I had already told my wife about my idea, she gave me a blowjob and then came up and kissed me. It was really, REALLY hot, passionate, sexy, a bit taboo and amazing. The next time she gave me a blowjob, my wife came up and kissed me and I chickened out and probably made her feel odd about doing it. I’ve always thought if I kissed or licked her after cumming approximately several times in a row that it would get easier. But this kissing hasn’t happened because I keep chickening out. I also know that, while I don’t think my wife thinks this idea is ‘too perverted,’ that cum kissing is ‘my thing��� and not hers. An idea that could work to push me past the ‘chickening-out’ is to ruin my orgasm. I could bring myself close to cumming, then I would cum wherever she is comfortable having me cum and then I would work on whatever cums out. Then we can go back to fucking becuase you don’t loose the sex drive in a ruined orgasm. I do wonder if I would follow through. I also wonder how I would respond if my wife told me to clean up my mess in that sexy, bitchy way I mentioned earlier or if she made it a condition to clean up if she let me cum. I don’t see that happening, but it’s hot to think about.

5) Pegging? I had to think about number 5 and I ‘guess’ pegging is my #5 because I can’t think of anything else. I think the idea of this is sexy and my wife and I have done this a few times. Seeing her wearing a strap-on, knowing that she is going to fuck me with it is a very exciting thought. Let me be clear, I do not want a real dick in my ass, mouth or anywhere else on me. It is more the idea of sexual intimacy and trust and exploring each other that resonates with me. I also wonder, if caged, whether would I be able to cum in the cage. In the past I had to manually stimulate myself while my wife was grinding.

If pegging isn’t number 5, then my wife wearing revealing clothes out so that others try to sneak a peak is. My wife is beautify and fit and knowing that others oogle her with their eyes if she is wearing something sex is a real turn on. It is because I know I get to take her home and it reminds me of how lucky I am. A short skirt that could flip up in the wind, a top that reveals her gorgeous cleavage. I would even let her sit at a bar and see how much attention she would get...that would be fun. :)

[elvisabutler]

ménage à trois

summary: it's date night for your partners and you. you should have known tonight was going to be a mess from the moment you saw their matching grins. fandom: olivia dejonge | austin butler | elvis 2022 pairing: austin butler x olivia dejonge x reader rating: m. word count: 1866 warnings: orgasm denial. dom/sub dynamics. kind of mommy and daddy kink. vibrating panties. p in v sex, implied to be protected re: birth control. oral ( f receiving ) so much teasing. author's note: welcome to a late day 18 for kinktober, threesome with olivia dejonge and austin butler. y'all i missed writing threesomes/poly fics. i did a bunch for the last fandom i actively wrote in and back in my first fandom so this is just a return to form. going back home as elvis would say. see also: it's been a long time, baby. a long time. also exhausted writing this, apologies for any errors i missed.

You should have known when you saw Olivia grinning like the cat that got the canary with Austin following behind her. You should have known that tonight was going to end in an interesting way for you. However, you trusted your girlfriend. Trusted her more than you trusted Austin purely because you had been dating Olivia for longer, you trusted her with your life. Austin- well, he had some catching up to do. He knew that though, knew that he'd have to treat you like a queen to prove that he wasn't just in this for the thrill of being with two women. He had to make sure he took care of both of you. Was it perhaps the healthiest way to introduce him into your relationship? Debatable. Was it working for the three of you with enough communication to make any therapist proud? Yes.

Trusting Olivia had been a mistake as you realized once you saw her pull out what looked like a small vibrator and what was her favorite pair of panties on you from Austin's pants pocket. Your initial response is to say no, it's date night, there's no need to play with something like that on date night but you see how expectant they look and how they're practically begging, well you can't ever say no to their matching blue gazes.

It leads you to where you are right now, sitting across from them with Olivia teasing you, alternating between having no vibrations and turning it to full blast. Austin lets Olivia set the pace, grinning at you while giving the other patrons and the staff of the restaurant the most charming smile and aura he can manage. You hate it. You hate how he's calm and collected in his suit while you- also shoved into a suit because in Olivia's words, "if we put you in a dress Austin would have you bent over before we left the house and bouncing on his dick in the car, I chose the matching suit, babe."- are practically a panting mess in your suit.

The problem with the suit and the problem with the panties and the problem with everything about this is that you can feel how wet you are. You can feel how wet you are and you can't even do anything about it. In a skirt or in a dress, you could convince Austin- beg Austin to touch you and he'd be the great dom that he was and oblige his princess. Or you could get Olivia to put down the remote and just touch her fellow goddess. In the suit, you're left clenching your thighs together and subtly humping the air trying to gain some form of friction to relieve the growing ache between your legs. You can't even come because Olivia refuses to turn it to enough of a vibration for enough time to let you fall off that edge.

You see dessert being placed in front of you, a chocolate cake that has you salivating just a bit but that might be from the fact that Olivia has had you wanting to come for a good minute under what you swear is the highest setting on the vibrating panties. You wouldn't be surprised if your drool is coming from that, after all your doms did always tell you that you looked so pretty when you begged, when you had all that spit making a mess for them. Austin gets up and you're concerned for a minute before you see him head to the bathroom and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding until you feel someone behind you.

"How's my baby girl doing? You haven't come, have you? Mama's teasing you and wouldn't let daddy take care of you. Wish I could already have you coming on my fingers. Make it so I can have two of my favorite flavors mixing. You and this dark chocolate. You're doing so good for us. Just a little longer, baby girl." Austin whispers lowly in your ear, his breath ghosting over neck and sending a shiver down your spine. "You're always such a good girl. Wanna prove to everyone we've got the best girl. No one else compares."

You whimper, shutting your eyes as your chest starts to heave with the effort of trying not to feel his breath and register his words. Olivia takes note and turns the vibration setting to zero and you can't help the small cry of distress that leaves you. When Austin sits back down finally you see his eyes darken and before you know it he's waving down a waiter and asking for containers to go.

"Our date's feeling a little under the weather now. We just want to get her home and in bed. You know how it is." Austin's lie falls from his lip with such an ease that you bite your lip at how honestly hot it kind of is.

You exit the restaurant gripping Olivia's hand tightly with Austin following close behind, his hand settling on her lower back. You see cameras flashing but pay them hardly any mind- after all your mind hand narrowed itself down to a world consisiting of the the three of you. You barely remember the car ride home beyond Austin's white knuckled grip of the steering wheel and Olivia's praise and touches as she kissed up your neck.

"Such a good girl, so good to mama and her daddy. Been such a quiet girl. Mama knows how hard that is for her girl. No one knew you were struggling not to come apart in front of us. We're almost home. We're almost to our bed where you can get whatever you want for being such a good girl. Have you thought about it? Thought about who you want first?" She asks, nuzzling at your neck, her hands feeling your chest through the suit.

The words sound foreign and your head lulls to the side a little before you focus on Austin's grip of the wheel and Olivia's touch burning a fire on your skin. It takes a minute for the words to form in your mouth and exit it. "Him? Maybe. Wanna taste you and have him fuck me while I do. Can I have that?"

Her lips curl into a smirk you can feel against your neck before she huffs out a laugh. The air from it has you shivering. "Of course, baby. Your reward."

The fact that you don't immediately jump into Austin's arms when you reach the house is a feat and Olivia once again murmurs praise in your ear about it, nipping at the lobe and making sure you hear every word. Austin for his part manages to get the door open in record time, pulling you both inside in a flash. Your eyes register his hands- her hands undoing your pants and someone undoing the suit jacket and- you lose track of whose fingers are against your skin. You lose track of whose lips follow those fingers, brushing against your skin. You lose track of whose tongue is tracing your nipple but you can't help the way you keen at it, grabbing at the hair only to realize it's Austin and you three have somehow made it to the bedroom with everyone's clothes strewn across the floor on the way to the room. In a flash you find yourself being pushed softly onto the bed as Olivia postions herself best to allow you to lick at her clit and cunt, to finger her within an inch of her life to- do everything you wanted. The look she gives you before she actually sits on your face is one of complete adoration. You find it makes your body feel warm down to your toes.

Austin lines himself up with you and pushes in slowly, careful not to jostle Olivia in the process. You groan against her cunt, the vibrations causing her to let out a sigh that sounds like a whimper if the rushing blood through your ears hasn't hurt your hearing that bad. He waits for a single set of two taps to go forward, to set a comfortable pace. It takes you a minute but he feels those two taps against his back and starts to thrust in and out of you, gently and softly at first, his hands playing with your breasts as well as Olivia's. His tongue and lips wrapping around her nipples to hear the noises he loves from both of you. Your tongue flicks at her clit as Austin gets quicker. You want to come, but no one has said you could come yet.

"Aus. Y/N, oh my God- why- I'm seriously going to come first, aren't I?" She asks, her thighs tightening around your head, sending a new sensation through your body. You can breathe but you're reminded she can crush you if she wanted to like this. Your hand moves to curl your fingers inside of her and it's not long before you feel her clenching around your fingers and coming with a choked off moan. It takes her a second to catch her breath, noting how Austin is still slowly fucking you, teasing you even longer with his thrusts. She frowns.

"Our girl has been good Austin, give her what she needs. Fuck her." She feels your pleased hum and has to shiver, the sensation feeling rough against her oversensitive clit.

It's as if that was the cue he needed, as his thrusts are quicker, faster, an almost jackhammer like speed has taken over Austin but it's helping you slide to your release quicker. Olivia's managed to get off of you so that Austin can see your face as she kisses it. His eyes narrow as he studies your face while he fucks you. He takes a second to breathe before continuing to speak. "Come, baby girl. Let daddy have your come all over his cock. He'll fill you up too. Such a good girl deserves everything she loves. My best girl."

Your hand reaches out to grasp at Olivia's as you find yourself practically trying to break your back with how hard you arch upward into Austin's torso and thrusts. Your throat closes up when you try and make a sound but when you flop back onto the bed Austin follows you shortly after, coming with a low groan that you feel vibrate in your soul. His body flops on yours unceremoniously as you try and catch your breath, shivering slightly from the sensations still overwhelming you. You feel two sets of hands in your hair and feel a kiss on either cheek.

"Are you okay?" They ask, eyeing your reactions to things and how your chest is still heaving. "Red or are we on-"

You cut them off with a shake of your head. "Yellow. Just give me a minute and I wanna- I want more. Can I have more?"

Olivia and Austin look at each other and back at you, matching grins not unlike the ones they gave you earlier in the day on their faces. "Say the word, baby girl. Say the word."

You say the word. They're true to theirs.

[testudoaubrei-blog]

Well, it’s not quite a master’s thesis, but this is (the first of) a series of posts on why Catra and Adora are the best love story in the history of kids TV animation and maybe the greatest love story in the history of TV. This may in some ways be faint praise - romance on TV is generally not very good compared with books or movies. Often it’s just some will they/won’t they sexual tension that is defused by getting characters together and re-heightened by breaking them up. TV is full of nearly shark jumping pointless dramas like Sam and Diane (Cheers, holy fuck am I dating myself, though that was technically before my time), Ross and Rachel (Friends, which was no Cheers) etc, but also some less annoying couples like Ben and Leslie (Parks and Rec) or Amy and Jake (Bk99) who are mostly just kind of cute and fun. Other shows, like the X-Files, teased viewers for years with unresolved sexual tension. In kids shows most romances are, appropriate for their target viewers, mild, sweet relationships based more on self-conscious flirting and blushing than on complex and conflicted feelings or deep passions - which is pretty realistic when the characters are young teens or even mid-teens. Some of these relationships are really well done - Finn and Flame Princess, Dipper and Pacifica (yeah I ship them), the early stages of Katara and Aang (before the showrunners imbued this childhood crush with cosmic significance), Steven and Connie, etc. Catra and Adora, though, are different. Their love story is not a side plot or a sub plot, it’s the heart of the show. It isn’t a childhood crush, it’s a very messy and passionate relationship between two young adults. She-Ra is an emotionally complex lesbian romance just as much as it is a thrilling action/adventure show. Everything about their relationship is baked into the show’s plot, its themes, hell even its musical score. The dramatic tension between Catra and Adora is not the result of stretching out a flirtation for ratings, but a coherent dramatic arc that runs through the entire show. As Noelle said, he made Catradora so central that execs couldn’t take it out without ruining the show. And the show is better for it. In this series of posts I’m going to try to show why, as well as showing why She-Ra is such a fantastic love story.

First off, let’s talk about how Catra and Adora’s character arcs are foils for each other, and how they come together and apart through the series. This is actually a post that I’ve been working on for a while but I keep summarizing the show rather than cutting to the chase, so I’m not going to recite many plot points so much as sketch out what’s going on with the dramatic structure at the time. But also, let’s talk about what each character’s arc is saying, and how they are commenting on each other. Spoiler alert: Catra’s arc is a subversion and critique of stories of empowerment through ruthless self-assertion and revenge, while Adora’s arc is a subversion and critique of chosen one narratives and stories of self-denial and self-transcendence.

When the show starts, Adora and Catra are shown as rivals and friends - their first scene starts the recurring motif of them reaching out for each other as one of them dangles above an abyss, as well as establishing their flirtatious banter and easy camaraderie. We quickly learn that these two young women plan to conquer the world together. These scenes and later flashbacks show Catra and Adora as deeply enmeshed in each others lives, to the point where neither of them (but especially Catra) have clear identities outside of one another. There is so much genuine love on both sides before Adora leaves, but also resentment, envy and fear, especially on Catra’s side, as well as a protectiveness on Adora’s side that deprives Catra of her autonomy. They are both being abused by Shadow Weaver - Catra physically  and emotionally, Adora emotionally. It wouldn’t be too much to say that Shadow Weaver holds Catra hostage to control Adora (this is why critiques that Adora abandoned Catra to be abused are actually kind of messed up, since they accept Shadow Weaver’s premise that Adora is responsible for what Shadow Weaver does to Catra). In addition, Catra and Adora actually see the world incredibly differently. Adora already sees the world in terms of right, wrong and her destiny to right wrongs - this is why it’s important for her  to accept the Horde’s obvious lies - she couldn’t keep living if she didn’t. Catra, on the other hand, sees the world solely in terms of survival and personal loyalty - everything for her is about preserving herself and the person she cares about - Adora.

Then, when Adora finds the sword, she leaves because it’s the right thing to do. Catra doesn’t even have a concept of ‘the right thing to do’ being something she should care about, or perhaps, something she can care about as an irredeemably evil, awful fuck-up. So at Thaymor neither one understands where the other is coming from, and Catra and Adora begin to part. This is the first turning point in their relationship. Adora chooses duty over what she desires, Catra chooses to protect herself (such as she sees it) and nurse her sense of betrayal and abandonment.

Their relationship until Promise is a kind of weird Frenemy thing that is fascinating to watch and sold me on the show. Neither one wants to fully admit to themselves that the other is now their enemy, neither one has given up on changing the other’s mind. Each is furious at the other, and desperate to see her again at the same time. There’s a lot of heartache and just as much sexual tension, especially at Princess Prom. Both of them come alive when they fight each other (more about that in a later post). But they’re already growing apart - Adora embracing her destiny as She-Ra, Catra rising in the ranks for the Horde. Adora now has the purpose she always wanted, plus other friends and a sense of being chosen to do something great, while Catra now has power - the means to protect herself from people like Shadow Weaver as well as the vindication she had always been denied, and even the opportunity to beat Shadow Weaver at her own game.

The next turning point is Promise. Holy fuck, this episode. It’s an episode that is even more heartbreaking after you’ve watched the show because you know just how much worse things are going to get, and yet, it’s a necessary part of both of their character arcs. Even through season 1 Catra and Adora had remained very much enmeshed in each others lives in an increasingly fucked up way as they grew apart but refused to turn away from each other. Even though they aren’t -exactly- a romantic couple (Adora doesn’t recognize and acknowledge her feelings until the last episode of Season 5), Season 1 of She-Ra is one of the worst breakups I have seen on TV. As I said in a couple of previous posts, this is the kind of shit that the Mountain Goats write songs about. Everything that was poisoning their love for each other even before episode 1 bubbles to the surface and combines with them fighting on opposite sides of the war to make a truly fucked up situation. In the end, it’s Catra that makes the choice to turn away from Adora. This isn’t a -good- decision. It’s spiteful, and destructive, and based on an outright deluded understanding of their relationship (inspired by Light Hope’s manipulations and her own issues), but it’s in some ways a necessary decision. Catra has been so wrapped up in Adora for so long that she isn’t going to be able to figure out who -she- is without cutting Adora out of her life. And the same is true of Adora.

But each of them do this in about the worst way possible. Catra embraces destruction, ambition, manipulation and outright cruelty, turning the tactics of her abusers against them and against everyone around her. She first triumphs over Shadow Weaver and manipulates Entrapta into trying to corrupt Etheria itself. Meanwhile Adora ‘lets go’ and commits herself to the self-denying mantle of She-Ra. Over the next several seasons, their respective paths will nearly lead both Catra and Adora to their deaths (in the Season 4 finale).

For the next season (counting season 2 and 3 as one) Catra and Adora are still closely linked, but as enemies. Still, there’s more than enough flirtation between them (that ‘Hey Catra’ in the first episode of Season 2 is something else), and especially on Adora’s side we see her hold back with Catra, and often take responsibility for the harm Catra inflicts, just like she had when they were kids. Yet they still drift apart - after facing off every other episode in Season 1, they spend less and less time on screen together through season 2 and 3. Catra continues her ascent to power and descent into villainy while Adora becomes more of a stressed out mess as she takes the fate of the world and the wellbeing of everyone she cares about on her admittedly broad shoulders. Catra’s one moment of vulnerability is rewarded by Shadow Weaver’s betrayal and her exile, then Catra triumphs in ruthless badass fashion through sheer desperation and aggression. In the Crimson Wastes, we see Catra at her most independent, and she almost seems happy. But once Adora shows up and Catra hears about Shadow Weaver, she’s sucked back into the worst of her resentments, and she makes very clear that being happy is less important to her than making sure Adora is miserable.

This changes everything. Catra completely breaks with reality and tries to kill Adora, herself and the world rather than lose to Adora and Shadow Weaver (I do think it’s important to remember that she does that after Shadow Weaver nearly kills her). Catra betrays everyone around her when she exiles Entrapta, threatens Scopria and lies to Hordak. Then she flips the switch. When Adora tries to fix things, Catra fights to her own death to make sure that the world disintegrates with her. For her part, Adora fights first to understand what is wrong with the world and then to fix it. Finally she tells Catra that destroying the world is her choice and she has to live with it, decks her, and then sees her off with a death glare once the portal is closed. With this, Adora writes Catra off even if, as she says later, she never never hated her. By doing that, Adora casts off the guilt that had dogged her and takes responsibility for her own life rather than someone else’s - this is actually a huge step for her, and one that will become more important in Season 4.

Season 4 is in many ways the nadir of their relationship. They only see each other once during the entire season, in Fluterrina, when Adora tries to blast Catra, much to the latter’s shock. There’s a sense in that scene that Catra is trying to have the same flirtatious enmity she used to have with Adora, and Adora is having none of it. Catra almost seems hurt by this, which is an early hint at how isolated Catra is beginning to feel. Catra spends the rest of the season at her highest and lowest. On the one hand she spends most of 12 episodes winning by every standard she has ever claimed to care about, besting Hordak himself in single combat and making herself co-ruler of the Horde and coming within a day’s march of ending the Rebellion. In many ways it is the ultimate empowerment fantasy - the abused young woman has defeated her abusers, showed up everyone who doubted her and forced everyone to respect her. But I think it’s striking that the show starts with her and Adora dreaming of conquering the world together and in Season 4 Catra nearly succeeds in conquering it alone, almost like she was trying to live out her old shared fantasy while proving she didn’t need her former best friend. 

At the same time, Catra is clearly miserable. She’s always been unhappy, but in Season 4 we see her completely isolated and lying to herself and everyone who will listen in a desperate attempt to justify her actions. Turning the tactics of Hordak and Shadow Weaver against them to gain power and then against Scorpia and Entrapta to maintain it haven’t vindicated Catra, they’ve made her more and more alone as Entrapta is exiled and Scorpia drifts away. Meanwhile Catra reaches out to Double Trouble, and her interactions with them reek of a kind of desperate desire to have someone in her life (the feeling of their interaction is of an unhealthy casual relationship where one partner becomes emotionally invested and the other takes advantage of that while denying the other the closeness they desire). As people leave her, one after the other, it becomes clearer and clearer that Catra doesn’t want power at all - she wants connection, friendship, love, and power is a very poor replacement. As I said in my long Catra rant, Season 4 is both her ‘Walter White as a Catgirl’ season and the beginning of her redemption. Everything comes to head when Sparkles destroys everything Catra has tried to achieve, Double Trouble delivers those harsh truths and Horde Prime shows up and makes it all irrelevant, just highlighting how futile all her struggles and sacrifices and crimes have been.

Meanwhile Adora spends Season 4 becoming her own her and her own woman. After telling off Catra, she grows more and more disillusioned with Light Hope and critical of Glimmer (though the latter has more than a shade of her old habit of taking responsibility for others - Adora’s development is not linear). She’s gained the courage and confidence to strike out her own path, not just follow a destiny. At the season’s end she once again breaks with her best friend to do what is right, and discards the destiny that she was being prepared for. But in this case she isn’t chasing one packaged destiny for another, instead she’s making her own choice and literally shattering the thing that she thought gave her life purpose. It’s badass, and heartbreaking, and along with decking Catra and jumping after Catra into the abyss (see below) it’s the perfect Adora moment.

In many ways Season 5 starts with Catra and Adora farther apart than they have ever been. They aren’t even enemies anymore, they’re completely out of each other’s lives. And both Catra and Adora are lost at the beginning of Season 5 - Catra is useless and alone on Prime’s ship, completely defeated despite ostensibly being on the winning side, and she goes through the motions of her normal plotting without any particular conviction and none of her normal flair. Meanwhile Adora is even more miserable and self-destructive than usual, throwing herself at Horde Bots and working herself until she drops of exhaustion. In a very real way they both stay lost until they have a chance to help the other. Catra takes responsibility for what she’s done and what she can do, saves Glimmer (at least partly for Adora’s sake), apologizes to Adora, and sacrifices herself. Adora only seems to come alive when she decides to turn around, face Prime, and save the cat. And when she does, Catra and Adora’s arcs, which had separated so completely in season 4, come crashing back together to end the series.

Adora during Save the Cat is such a contrast with the uncertain, hesitant and self-destructive wreck we’ve seen so far in Season 5. This is possibly her craziest plan in 3 years of mostly cazy plans, but she never wavers or questions herself. Even when Chipped Catra appears and we see Adora’s heart break while we watch, Adora doesn’t back down or relent. She keeps at it even as the tears stream down her face. She fights better trying to save Catra without She-Ra’s powers than she fought at the Battle of Bright Moon with them. Catra’s just about as desperate - we see her cry and plead, and now is probably as good a time to any to point out how amazing a job both VAs did throughout the show, but especially in this episode, and how good a job the board artists did. 

Seeing each other for the first time in a year, and only the second time since Catra blew everything up, Catra and Adora are probably the rawest and least restrained we’ve ever seen them. There’s barely any banter, no bravado, and no pretense that they are anything other than two women who desperately need each other (Prime doesn’t help with ‘You broke my heart’.) Then Catra is flung to her death, Adora jumps after her, breaks both her legs in the fall (we see her crawl to Catra, as though she couldn’t walk) and becomes the real She-Ra. It’s such a triumphant and deeply queer moment seeing a woman transformed into a warrior goddess to protect the woman she loves, and it’s the reason that, as dark as it is, Save the Cat is my Comfort Food episode.

Let’s not sleep on Taking Control, though. This episode is like a microcosm of what this show does best, especially the A plot with Catra and Adora. Catra’s reversion to lashing out at everyone and her refusal to be open to Adora shows just how much of a struggle this whole ‘being good and trying to connect to people’ thing is. Catra’s outburst gives Adora a chance to stand up for herself and refuse to be Catra’s punching bag, while also not trying to control her. Adora’s ultimatum gives Catra a chance to reach out to Adora (quite literally), and allow herself to be vulnerable. In this episode, we see just how far Catra and Adora have come since the messed up stew of their relationship in Season 1. Adora lets Catra be responsible for her own actions; Catra lets herself be vulnerable to Adora and takes responsibility for her actions. They’re both better people and better friends and better partners than they were, and the show has shown this in a strikingly nuanced and realistic way. 

The important thing to note in the next few episodes of Season 5 isn’t just how much closer Catra and Adora get to each other and how much they flirt (So much. So much, y’all) but just how -happy- they are. We see both of them transformed in the other’s presence. Basically, since they’ve parted, both Catra and Adora have been defined in no small part by how miserable they often are. They have both had their triumphs and their lighter moments, but there’s been a sense of melancholy dogging both Catra and Adora since episode 1. And now that they’re together again, that lifts, somewhat. Catra’s verbal barbs have lost their venom, and she can openly show how much she cares for Adora and even Bow and Glimmer. She’s still herself - snarky, cynical, somewhat devious - but she’s not engaged in a self-destructive zero-sum struggle with everyone around her. Meanwhile Adora has spent 4 seasons being a neurotic and sometimes nearly joyless mess who takes responsibility for everything and often doesn’t let herself enjoy anything other than the odd BFS group hug (exceptions include trying to uh...impress Huntara and reveling with the butterfly ladies of Elberron in Flutterina).  Around Catra, though, she’s a cocky, swaggering jock who gives as good as she gets. It’s a side of Adora we’ve only seen hints of before, and one that’s so much more confident and joyful even as the world is ending around her. Apart, Catra had tried to protect and vindicate herself with power and conquest, while Adora had tried to forget herself in duty and sacrifice. Together, they can be themselves again. This dynamic is crucial to the show’s portrayal of Catra and Adora’s romance because it doesn’t just show how much they love each other, but how they’re -good- for each other now that they’ve grown as people, and that they are so much better than they were when they were apart.

Until Shadow Weaver shows up. Their old abuser reintroduces tensions but even then things are different than they were. Now Catra isn’t just resentful of how Shadow Weaver prefers Adora - she’s  protective of Adora, which is clearest in Failsafe when she calls Shadow Weaver out for being willing to sacrifice Adora. And while Adora takes the Failsafe, it isn’t to follow her destiny or because she has a death wish - it’s because she loves her friends, and she is the only one who has any hope of doing this and living (though Catra’s suggestion that Shadow Weaver take it is a good one). And finally, when Catra leaves Adora, it isn’t because she hates Adora, nor, despite what she says, is it because she really thinks that Adora chose Shadow Weaver. At least, not exactly. It’s because Catra loves Adora, and can admit that to herself, and can’t stay around and watch the woman she loves sacrifice herself rather than choosing Catra. Before Catra leaves, she asks Adora ‘What do you want?” It’s a question that echoes Shadow Weaver’s speech in Episode 1: ‘isn’t this what you always wanted since you could want anything?’ As much as Adora has grown as a person, and defined herself and stood up for what she thinks is right, she still has never answered that question - it’s never been ‘what do I want’ but ‘what do I have to do?’ and that’s how Adora answers Catra’s question. This is Adora’s last gasp as a self-transcending hero, letting go of what she wants (not that she ever dared articulate what that was) in order to do what must be done. And it nearly kills her and dooms the universe, because Adora can’t be the hero that she needs to be by being anyone less than herself.

But it’s losing Catra that inspires Adora to tell off Shadow Weaver for good (not that she’d ever really warmed to her after season 1). And it’s love for Adora that inspires Catra to stand up to Shadow Weaver and demand that she do the right thing. In both cases, Catra and Adora aren’t just standing up to their abuser, but holding her to account for the harm she’s caused, and it’s the love that they have for each other that inspires them to do this. In Catra’s case in particular her refusal to let Shadow Weaver weasel out of finding Adora is a much greater triumph over Shadow Weaver than beating her up and breaking her mask in Season 1 - it’s proof not so much to Shadow Weaver but to Catra herself that Catra really is better than this and that she deserves better than this. It’s not turning her abuser’s tactics against her, but truly holding her to a moral standard and demanding that she do the right thing.

And then there’s Catra and Adora together at the heart. Catra has already come back for Adora and stayed to the end, choosing to die with her even if she can’t share a life together (not out of some death wish, but because Adora needs her). And Adora, who’s been avoiding answering the question for three fucking years, finally let’s herself want Catra when Catra finally confesses her love (breaking the last of her self-protective shields) and asks Adora to stay -for her-. And by admitting what she wants, Adora can truly be at peace with herself and be the hero she needs to be, lesbianism saves the universe, The End.

So anyway, that’s how Catra and Adora’s stories are woven together and how they compliment and comment on each other. Narrativiely, Adora and Catra start together, come apart, find something of themselves, and truly find themselves and each other when they are reunited. Thematically, they are critiquing seemingly opposing narrative tropes - empowerment narratives and narratives of self sacrifice. But by showing the flaws in both types of story and showing how neither self-seeking empowerment nor self-negating self sacrifice can actually make us happy, She-Ra asks and answers more profound questions than most prestige dramas for adults do. I’ll get into how the show sells the idea that the power of love can bring us happiness (and save the world) in a future post. But next up, I’m going to celebrate just how much Catra and Adora’s relationship revels in ambiguity, complexity and contradiction and so tells a grown up love story in a kid’s show.

[sundaysundaes]

Our First Time

Mark Lee X Reader, ft. Johnny | Smut, Fluff | 4.6k | College AU

Summary: Considering your boyfriend never dares to take the initiative to go further than your usual make-out sessions, you have to do the part to actually be in charge of the relationship.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, Mark Lee losing his virginity while being extremely awkward and utterly cute about it, oral sex, fingering, failed fluff (idk man this is just basically me being a thirsty hoe over morkly)

“Remember the suit you wore when we went to your aunt’s wedding?”

Your boyfriend, who has been together with you for almost a year by now, hums in response, not really giving you any glance as he’s busy tapping his pen to his lips, thinking about writing the next lyric for the song he’s composing. Mark Lee has his chest pressed against his acoustic guitar, his hair’s a bit messy and slightly parted to the side, showing his forehead. Considering how close he’s sitting on the floor next to you, you can tell how half of the collar of his washed-out denim jacket stands up, brushing against the end of his dark hair.

“Yeah, what about it?” He continues asking when he notices that you’re waiting for a proper answer. He slips his guitar pick back between his fingers and tries a few chords to match his lyrics.

“I just dreamt about you fucking me from behind while wearing that suit.”

Mark strums his guitar too hard out of shock, making his instrument flies away from his lap, hitting the marbled floor with a sudden loud noise.

“What?”

Still having your head pressed against the table with your right cheek glued to your abandoned college papers, you flatly repeat, “I dreamt about you fucking—”

Mark stands up so fast, you can tell he’s having a slight headache because of it. “No. No. I heard what you said, I just—” It’s a fact that Mark blushes rather easily, but he has never blushed this hard before. “What—why—telling me so suddenly like this—you’re—”

“Mark, you’re rambling.”

“Why are you so calm about it?!” He walks away to pick up his guitar, unconsciously stomping a little bit like a fuming child as he does so. “And why are you lazing around like that? Didn’t you have some assignments to do?”

You finally straighten yourself up, looking at the textbooks you need to read and suddenly feeling like you’re dyslexic from birth. “I dozed off a bit, I guess. I just woke up from that dream where—”

“OKAAAAYYYYY!” Mark scrambles back to your side, crossing his legs and shushing you down by covering your head with your hood until you can barely see anything. The grey hoodie you’re wearing—his hoodie, actually—is already oversized when Mark is wearing it, so it’s basically a dress when you’re wearing it and the hood is big enough to cover your entire head.

You pull your hood away, your hair looking like a mess and by then Mark still has his cheeks rosy from your words and you wonder, whether it really was too much to talk about with your boyfriend?

You have never been the one who gets easily embarrassed about sexual stuff—or about anything really, because you’re a pretty blunt person. It’s his job to get embarrassed about things—even the ones that came out from his own mouth. Mark can be so confident and so awkward at the same time that it doesn’t make sense but you find him to be cute that way.

“Mark.”

“If you’re going to talk about that dream again, I am going to yank my hair out of my head.”

“But—“

“And I’m going to yank your hair out of your head.”

“But then we’re both be bald.”

“That will be your fault.”

You huff, unconsciously pouting, before you finally let go and head back to your papers. You try to hold your concentration longer than a few minutes, but when you hear Mark going back to his guitar, humming a few notes here and there, you just give up because there’s no way you’re going to finish your thesis when your boyfriend is singing so angelically like that.

“New song?”

“Yeah.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Thanks. It still feels a bit weird on some parts though, but—” Mark stops talking when you walk on all fours toward him, pushing the guitar out of his hands and crawl onto his lap. “Babe?”

You sink your face against the crook of his neck, hands going down and circle their way around his back. “Ssshh,” you say, exhaling all of his scents and thanking whoever it is that invented his perfume because goddamn, Mark smells like cinnamon and chocolate and everything that is good in this world. “I’m out of battery. I need to re-charge.”

Mark spends two seconds in silence before he blurts out laughing, “What are you even saying?” He protests but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he rests his chin on your shoulder and cuddles you closer into his chest.

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs, almost lazily as if he’s a few seconds away from sleeping. You answer by placing a peck on his neck which makes him jolt a little in surprise but not breaking away. The silence between you two is comforting but the way Mark’s jeans are pressing against your bare thighs is not so you move around, trying to find the most perfect comfort zone on his lap—not knowing that it is becoming a new kind of torture for your boyfriend. It’s until you feel something growing underneath you that you begin to halt your movements.

“Mark—”

“I know, don’t say it—”

“You’re kinda… hard.”

“I said, don’t—” He lets out a whine, slamming his temple against your shoulder. “Look, I’m sorry, but you keep moving your butt and it feels like you’re not wearing any pants—“

“I am not wearing any pants.”

“Fuck.” Mark is not the kind of man who curses a lot—he only does it when he’s surprised or when he panics as he tries to process what he’s saying next, so the fact that he’s cursing now can mean he’s feeling one of those things or both or for a whole other reason.

“I mean,” you try to explain, “I’m not trying to seduce you or anything. It’s just your hoodie is way too big for me so I thought why bother? It’s not like we’re going somewhere. We’re just hanging out in my bedroom after all.”

“Oh my God,” Mark groans, throwing his head back as he leans against your bed. “Just give me some time to calm down.”

He really looks like he’s trying to will his boner to go away, what with the way he furrows his eyebrows and keeps his eyes tightly closed in concentration. Mark is too much of a gentleman to ask for your help but you’re willing so it’s more like he’s giving one by providing the chance for you to ravage him.

Just gotta play it cool, though.

And by cool, you mean pressing your palm against his groin when he’s not expecting.

“Yo, what!” He jumps like a scared little cat and honestly, he’s too cute—so utterly cute—that you begin to lean up and kiss him square on the lips. “Mmph!” His protest is muffled by your mouth and the way you entangle your fingers around the back of his hair, pulling him close. He stiffens for a few seconds before he finally lets go, melting into the kiss and you know the next one is going to be your favourite part.

See, the thing with Mark is, he acts shy and awkward most of the time but when the moment is right, he can be passionate about things. Like when he’s playing music. Or writing his raps during his free time.

Or kissing you.

“Mark—“ It’s funny that you initiated this, but it’s you who’s losing your breath. Mark takes your hand when you’re about to fall off his lap, pulling you with enough force to make you tumble back to his chest, and slips his tongue inside your mouth as you gasp. His kisses are deep and fast, almost like he’s in a hurry to kiss you before you disappear from his life forever. You never peg yourself to act like a thirteen-year-old virgin—because you’re certainly not—but when Mark kisses you like this, you feel like you’re acting worse than that.

You can feel one of his hands on your thigh, holding you tight to the point it feels like it’s going to bruise. You push his denim jacket off his shoulders when he kisses your neck, lips hovering hot against your sensitive spot, making you say his name in the tone you’ve never made before.

“You,” Mark whispers between kisses, “have got,” another kiss, his teeth nibbling against your bottom lip, “to stop teasing me like this.” Another slip of his tongue, meeting yours for a split second before he breaks off the kiss. “Or else, I’ll go crazy. I am going crazy because of you.”

“Then why are you stopping?” You ask, breathing a little bit heavier. You cup one of his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him again but he pulls away, hesitating. “Mark?”

“I don’t think we should go any further.”

“You don’t?” You grind your hips against him again and his lips part slightly, trying his best to contain his moan. “Even though you’re this excited?”

“That—” He hisses, gripping hips with both hands to keep you still. “Stop it, you’re not being fair.”

“I’m being honest,” you correct him. “What’s wrong? What’s stopping you? What did I do wrong?”

You can tell he feels sorry for making you feel like this and he’s really contemplating whether he should tell you the real reason or not, so you squeeze his hand and smile at him. “Let me know, please?”

He licks his bottom lip nervously before he sighs. “It’s dumb but…” He looks away, trying to hide his face but you see how the tips of his ears are turning scarlet. “You’re Haechan’s ex and I know he can be a little bit, umm… wild.”

It takes a few seconds for you to process. “So you’re afraid that you’re going to be worse than him in bed?”

“No, I mean—“ He seems frustrated and ashamed, like a child being caught with his hand in a cookie jar. “Okay, yes, I guess you’re right. I am. But it’s more than that.”

The way he fidgets and rambles is just so cute—everything about him is cute—but you never say that out loud because he hates being called cute. He always says you’re cuter than him. “Mark, I don’t care about what happened with me and Haechan. I’m dating you now, aren’t I? You’re being jealous over nothing.”

The way he pouts indicates that he doesn’t particularly agree with your words, but he lets it go. “Well, there’s also one other thing.”

“What thing?”

“You know,” he shrugs, hiding his doe eyes behind his bangs. “That thing.”

“What? What is it? What thing?” Then you open your mouth in realisation. “Oh Mark, baby, I don’t care if you have a small dick. Size doesn’t matter.”

“What—NO!” He shrieks, face in flame. “I mean, not that I regularly measure it and compare it to other guys—I have never even seen another guy’s dick—not that I want to—”

“Mark, you’re rambling again.”

“I DON’T HAVE A SMALL DICK!” He exclaims and you hold back a laugh when he adds in a murmur, “At least I don’t think I have.”

“Okay, my bad.” You massage his shoulders, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Then what is it?”

Another silence, then. “I’ve never done this before.”

“What, sex?”

He weakly nods, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip worriedly, and you feel something warm growing inside your chest. The fact that he’s never been with anyone suddenly becomes the highlight of your life, and if you can be his first then you can just die from happiness by the end of the day.

But it’s because of this very reason, that you have to become very careful.

“Okay, then, let’s just take it slow?” You offer and he seems conflicted about his own expression. Part of him looks relieved but the other part of him looks disappointed.

“Why do I feel like we have our roles in reverse?” He asks, somewhat annoyedly, as you settle yourself better in his lap. You let out a small chuckle in response. “Also, your brother is downstairs.”

“He has his AirPods on.”

“How do you know he has his AirPods on?”

“Johnny always has his AirPods on.”

“But—”

“Mark,” you whisper, closing your eyes as the tip of your nose touching his, “Don’t you want me?”

He lets out a shaky breath, having a hard time trying not to stare at your lips that are becoming even more irresistible by the second. “You don’t even know how much I want you.”

“Then just let go. Just give in, Mark.” You press your temple against his and within this close proximity, his scent is intoxicatingly amazing.

“Okay,” he finally whispers back, but since he still sounds somewhat unsure, you add, “Look, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. Just stop me whenever it gets too uncomfortable for you, okay?”

“Okay now we seriously have our roles in reverse. Should I be handing my dick to you now? I think you’ll make better use of it.”

“That sounds like a great idea only if it’s possib—” The rest of your words is replaced with a yelp when Mark suddenly pushes you down onto your back, your head hitting the floor too hard and now he’s yelping.

“Oh, shit—fuck!” He scrambles with his words and with his hands, trying to help you get up and check on your condition at the same time. “I’m so sorry! I was trying to be sexy and be in control or something like that—shit, it just looks way better in my head—I—Why are you laughing?!“

You can’t help it. This is all too ridiculous. Almost refreshing for you, even. You never compared Mark with your ex-boyfriend Haechan before because Mark is way, way better than he’s ever going to be but you remember that with Haechan, things were wild. So wild, that you constantly got caught off guard, not having enough time to focus on your feelings or your own pleasure and just fulfilling his, and his only. With Mark, you feel like you have so much more to give. So much more new experience. So much laughter. So much fun.

“Oh my God, Mark,” you cackle, wiping away some tears from your eyes, “I love you, but if you don’t stop acting so cute, I am going to ravish you myself.”

“What?”

You blink in realisation. “Sorry, that was too much.”

“No, not that.” He knits his eyebrows together. “You love me?”

You feel your heart drops to your stomach. You can’t believe you just said that. It’s not like you didn’t mean it—of course, you mean it. But you’ve tried your best to wait so you can hear him say it first. You are a woman, after all. And to think that you just said it randomly at times like this? After your boyfriend knocked your head against the floor for trying to be sexy? Not really the way you imagined it to be, that’s for sure.

“Umm,” you fondle the hem of your—his—hoodie. Great, now you’re nervous. Suddenly, those papers you have scattered on your table don’t look so bad. “You’re right, I do have some assignments to do. I’ll just get back to—“

Mark grabs your hand, holding you right on your spot. “You love me?”

You can practically hear your own heartbeat in your ears and it’s really fast. “My thesis—”

“Babe, I need to hear you say it.” The way his doe eyes are holding yours seems unfamiliar. His gaze is firm, unfaltering, and you give in because what else can you do? It’s really how you feel after all.

“I love you, Mark.” You can hear the shyness in your own voice and you curse inwardly because where did your confidence go? You were acting so superior before!

Mark doesn’t say a word and when you feel like dying is a better option than standing awkwardly in front of your attractive boyfriend after your stupid unplanned confession, he suddenly lifts your entire body with both hands and lays you down on the bed.

“Mark—“

He kisses you like he needs it to keep himself alive, and you find yourself closing your eyes shut, moulding your lips against his until you can taste the mint flavour from the candy he ate earlier. He tangles his fingers around your locks, the other hand cupping your cheek to angle your face better so he can kiss you deeper. You can’t help but to arch yourself closer to him, chest meeting chest, hips against hips. You can no longer tell whether the moans come from you or him but everything feels hot and going so fast, like you’re free-falling from a skyscraper.

Perhaps he feels the same way because he gradually slows his pace until he finally parts his lips from you. One look at your disheveled face and messy lipstick smeared from your mouth to your cheek, and he goes back to staring at your lips again with want. He mutters, “Fuck” under his breath, almost inaudibly before he crashes his lips against yours, but slower this time, just carefully savouring every taste and breathing in every scent of you.

Mark pulls away only to grab the hem of his white Van Halen shirt, pulling it over his head and tosses it somewhere without care and you have to remind yourself to breathe because fuck me, that was hot. His hair’s a mess—even messier than before and you think that’s just as hot as he can get but then he pushes his hair back with his hand, forehead showing as it glistens with sweat, and says, “I’m not going to hold back anymore.”

Again, fuck me, that was hot.

Mark seems brave enough to finally just let go and consume you in the way he has been wanting to for a while, but you can tell he’s also nervous from the way he fumbles every now and then, especially when he tries to unhook your bra without looking. He has no problem tossing your—his—hoodie away, but when he keeps his eyes closed as he kisses you, it takes a good minute for him to finally unclasp your bra.

He’s momentarily in awe when your naked breasts come into view but he wastes no more time trying to please you with both his hands and his mouth.

It’s good. He’s good. If he’s this good his first time, you can’t wait to see what happens next. You’re too busy losing yourself in his touch until you feel his length pressing against your thigh. By instinct, you press it harder against his groin, eliciting a surprised moan from him.

Goddamn, why is he so hot?

That voice of his; you want to hear it more and more, so you bring his mouth back to yours, align your hips with his and unzip his jeans. Mark is swearing again, but the more he swears, the breathier he sounds and when you rub him over his underwear, his moans are delicious.

“Feels good?” You ask and he kinds of scowl at you because what do you think?

Surprisingly enough, he pushes your hand away from his crotch and when you raise an eyebrow asking why, he kisses your body lower and lower until his face is hovering above your panties.

“Mark,” you call out, “Don’t try to be sexy and pull my underwear down with your teeth or something. You haven’t reached that level yet.”

He responds by tickling you hard on the sides of your stomach and you almost kick him in the face from laughing beyond control.

After all joking has receded, Mark swallows his breath nervously and kisses you on the inside part of your thigh, slowly creeping down to your heat, mouthing against it from over the fabric.

“Want me to take it off?” He asks in the cockiest way you’ve ever seen him do and you wonder who’s the virgin one in this relationship.

“Depends. Do you want to have blue balls for the rest of your life?”

“I’m kidding, geez,” he says, chuckling a bit but it sounds more nervous and he probably is nervous since he’s never done anything like this before.

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” you assure him and he looks like he wants to retort with something clever and snarky but he also kind of needs your guidance so he keeps quiet and just pulls your underwear down and tosses it away.

Mark knows how to use his tongue, he just doesn’t know where he should use his tongue. That’s when your guidance comes handy, you suppose.

“A little bit lower, Mark.”

“Here?”

“Lower.”

“Umm… here?”

“Whoa, too low!” You spring up from the bed, pressing your thighs together so he won’t lick anywhere weird. “Okay, Mark, there’s my vagina and there’s my ass. Some girls like to have their asses eaten, but not me.”

“Right,” he says awkwardly, cheeks burning bright. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. Umm…” It’s so awkward and you both kind of just sit on the bed not knowing what to do so you ask, a bit unconvincingly, “Try again?”

To your surprise, Mark nods rather excitedly, like a child eager to learn and that’s cute and all but in this context? Not so much.

But wow, Mark learns fast.

It’s been more than a year since someone has touched you like this and it feels like it’s your first time again, so you’re quickly reduced to a whimpering mess when Mark kisses and flicks his tongue against your private part. And when he sucks at a particular spot, you’re practically screaming his name.

“S-sorry, did I hurt you?” He asks, pulling away, eyes shaking in concern.

“God, no.” You’re this close to shoving his face back to your crotch. “Don’t stop, Mark, please.”

“But if you’re in pain—“

“Mark,” you can practically feel your patience throwing itself out of the window. “If I’m in pain, I will kick you in the face or tell you to stop, so if I don’t do any of that, don’t fucking stop.”

You know you sound a bit desperate. Or a lot. But is there any girl out there who’s not going to sound this desperate when Mark Lee is using his mouth to utter nonsense when he just did a perfectly good job over there?

Lucky for you, Mark actually listens and doesn’t stop going even if you’re mewling his name, to the point of almost sobbing even, and continues to please you until your thighs begin to tremble in delight and you fall back to the bed with the biggest content sigh you’ve ever made in your entire life.

“How was it?” He asks with a little bit of teasing in his tone because he can see how good it was. You can tell he wants to hear you praise him.

“You, Mark Lee,” you breathe out, looking at him with stars in your eyes. “Are the most talented person in the world and I’m not just talking about your talent in music, but in everything.”

He chuckles. “That good?”

You pull him down by his belt, until his chest pressing against yours again. “That good,” you agree before you crash your mouth against his in the most consuming way you’ve ever kissed someone.

Mark eventually has his pants off and you switch positions when he’s finally stark naked. He’s so shy about the whole thing that he barely keeps eye contact with you, and he stutters hard, asking where the condom is when you begin to position yourself on top of him. You shake your head, telling him that you don’t have one and add, “Just tell me when you’re about to come so you can pull out just in time.”

Mark opens and closes his mouth like a fish gasping for air, probably about to protest but can’t come up with any better solution. Besides, he basically just throws everything out of the door when you sit down on his lap, your walls stretching against his length in one swift motion and he throws his head back.

“Fuck!” He breathes heavily, looking at you specifically at the part where you both are connected. “You’re wet—how are you so wet—and warm—oh my God—I’m—“

“You’re rambling again.” It’s the third time you said that to him in the last hour, which must have been some kind of a record. Not important right now, though. You’re focusing yourself to adapt to his length—because he’s nowhere small, it turns out—and slide up and down when it stings less.

“Okay, shit, wait—“ Mark sinks his nails on the sides of your hips, making you wince a little and he pulls back, muttering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but I feel like I’m going crazy. Can we stop?”

“Too much?”

“Too much.”

You tease him by clenching your walls around him and he just groans loudly in the sexiest way you’ve ever heard a man groan. “Babe, please,” he begs, eyes half-lidded in lust. “You’re not being fair. It’s my first time.”

“So?” You can’t help it. You’re having so much fun. You rock your hips against him again and he just loses it. Mark grabs you by the waist, bringing you back down to the bed and muffle your laughter with his mouth.

“Since you can’t stop teasing me about it,” Mark says, spreading your legs apart by instinct and seeing him between your thighs is just the sexiest thing you’ve ever witnessed. “I’ll take control from here.”

Mark moves rather awkwardly, and sloppily from time to time but he is hitting the right spot. He’s too enthusiastic though, which doesn’t make him last long. He comes undone soon after, dripping liquid onto your stomach before your own orgasm can hit you but he doesn’t spend his time lying beside you on the bed. Instead, he quickly inserts one finger into you, then two, pumping in and out as he analyses your expression—making sure that he’s doing right and not hurting you in the process. You clutch your fingers around his bicep, urging him to go faster with your mouth parting halfway in pleasure and he smiles proudly at the sight. Smirking, he brings his mouth back to suck on whatever that is that makes you feel like the world is ending and you don’t fucking care because of Mark, oh yes, Mark!

When you’re done, he pulls his fingers out and licks the tips. He’s probably not trying to be sexy but more out of curiosity or just trying to imitate some dudes in those porn videos he watches from time to time, but goddamn, please do that again.

“Sorry for making such a mess,” he says, pushing the bangs out of your eyes, “I’ll go grab some tissues to clean you up—”

You bring him down to kiss him, senselessly, longingly, and languidly. Just enjoying the moment as you come down from your high. “You know,” you say, “I don’t know if I’m a good teacher, or you’re just one hell of a student, but that was amazing.”

Mark blushes but he grins like a child. “Am I better than Haechan?”

“I hate you for bringing him up because he no longer exists in my life but I bet my ass he’s never going to be as good as you. Our first time is ten times better than my last time with him.”

“You’re being honest?”

“Ten thousand percent.”

Mark plops down on the bed next to you, punching the air in a winning pose. “Hell yes!”

“Mark?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Let’s take a shower together. You see, practice makes perfect.”

As he’s busy trying to wash the blush away from his face, there’s a loud knocking sound coming from the other side of your door.

“Have you two bunnies done fucking each other’s brains out yet? I need to take my AirPods you borrowed.”

Mark stares at you in horror when you finally remember that you, indeed, borrowed Johnny’s AirPods this morning.

You begin to sweat. “Oops?”

***

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Gwanghae Flow (M)

Genre: Historical porn with plot

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader 

Summary: The queen receives a forbidden visitor in the middle of the night.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: explicit sexual activity, somewhat dubious consent, unhealthy relationship dynamics, slut shaming, adultery, impreg kink, knife/sword play, historical inaccuracy and excessive use of kdrama tropes

A/N: Here’s my small contribution to our collective thirst for the king Agust D. 

______

The whole palace is asleep, except you. Your eyes stare upward into the darkness, but there’s no light to make anything out. You would light a candle, except that would alert your guard to the fact you were still awake. And he never left until he was sure you were asleep.

A floorboard creaks and you sit bolt upright. You clutch the bedcovers to you as you wait for the door to open. Has he finally come?

But the door remains closed. Is he not coming? It had taken a month just to find the chance to speak to him alone, to whisper to him the time that your guard retired for the evening, to urge him to come to you, for him to nod and lick his lips. “Yes, my queen.”

Another soft creak of wood makes you startle, but still he doesn’t appear. You sigh in frustration, giving up and closing your eyes. You’ll need a new plan in the morning.

It’s still dark when you wake, lulled from sleep by a soft caress. A finger traces its way down your jawline. A thumb glides across your lips. But as your eyes open, the touches stop. A hand clamps down across your mouth, sealing off your ability to scream.

A single candle illuminates your room and the man who holds you down. He’s still dressed in his court clothing, all black except for the gold ornaments that gleam in his long blonde hair, dangle from his ears, and sparkle on his hands.  His fingers taste like rice wine against your lips.

“Is this a trap, my queen?” He sits on the blankets next to you, holding you down at the waist in addition to the hand covering your mouth. “You won’t scream if I let you go?”

You shake your head as best you can with the tight grip he has on you. You asked him here for a purpose.

He withdraws his hand from your mouth slowly, but leaves the hand on your waist. The candle only lights half his face. In the soft glow, he still looks very much like the boy you knew years ago. The boy who held your hand by the river and asked you for one soft kiss under the cherry blossoms before he left for war.

“Hello, my queen,” he says, fingers slowly tracing the ribbons around your waist that seal off your nightclothes.

“Hello, Yoongi.” You had hoped to call him your king, all those years ago on the riverbank, promising to wait for him until he returned to you. But the years have been unkind to you both. “I was expecting you earlier.”

“Your guard was particularly reluctant to leave your door tonight.” His eyes rake down your body, lingering on your bare leg that has wiggled its way out from under your skirt. “Perhaps your husband gave him specific instructions to not leave you alone?” His tongue plays teasingly at the inside of his cheek as he continues to stare down at you; his hand is warm where it sits on your waist.

“My husband”- you twist your body toward him so that the hem on your skirt rides up a little higher -”does not care how I spend my evenings.”

His eyes linger on the newly exposed skin. “I think he would care about you inviting strange men into your bedchamber.”

“You are not a stranger.” You interlace your fingers over his at your waist.

He leans backwards, sharp eyes examining you, and the whole of his face is revealed. The wound that marred your future together shines red on the other side of his face, an angry gash from above his brow to beneath his eye. “I am not the man you knew.”

“No...” You slide his hand up your side to tease at the strings that hold close your blouse. “The boy I knew would never sneak into the bed of a married woman.” Your transparent white undergarments reveal the curves of your body even though you are still covered. You had chosen the thinnest ones you owned. “I am hoping you have become a bolder man since then.”

“Bolder, yes, and more reckless.” His fingers wrap into the ribbons, undoing the closure of your blouse, but not yet opening it.

You shrug the top from your shoulders to bare your naked chest before him. Your bare breasts and flimsy silks are a stark contrast to his full royal dress. He still has his sword tied to his waist. “Reckless indeed, to bring your weapon this deep into the palace.”

“They would kill me if they found me here.” He smirks as he says it, as if he’d like to see them try. “Seemed wise to take precautions.” His hand twitches at his side as he stares at your exposed chest.

“I’d like to dispense with precaution.” You bring his hand up to your breast. His calloused fingers slide tentatively across your smooth skin.

“It would seem,” he says, his touches growing firmer as you lean into them, “that you are not the girl I knew either. When did the woman I loved become such a desperate slut?”

It punches the air from your lungs and you are deeply ashamed. You pull away from him, squirming and trying to tug your shirt back on. “I’m not…” He doesn’t understand. “I’ve never…”

His hands block you from covering yourself, fingers tugging at your nipples, which harden even as your shame grows. “Now, now, my queen, it’s too late for that. You asked me here for a reason. You disrobed in front of me for a reason.” He pinches your nipple between his fingers, causing sparks of heat to travel up your neck and down your groin. “Tell me, my queen, what can I do for you that his majesty, my brother, cannot?”

He brings his face closer to you and you can smell the wine on his breath.You clamp your hands over his in a futile attempt to stop his teasing of your breasts. “Are you drunk?” 

He chuckles low and wryly. “Drunk enough to sneak into the king’s wife’s bedroom in the middle of the night? Yes.” He lets go of you, leaning back and licking his lips. “But not too drunk to be of service.” He palms the crotch of his pants and you can see the bulge that has arisen there.

You sit up and re-cover yourself, suddenly afraid you don’t have the guts to see your plan through to the end. This is not the boy you thought you could control. “Perhaps I have no need for your services. Perhaps I just wanted to see you.”

“You could see me in the daytime, your majesty.” He slips his hand under the hem of your skirt to run slow circles around your ankle bone. Heat snakes up your leg, straight to your core, and you fall backward onto the bed once more. He smirks as his hand begins moving higher up your leg, twirling figure eight patterns up your calf. “We both know that is not why you asked me to sneak past your guards in the middle of the night.”

“It’s been years.” You try to tug your leg away from him, but he grips your thigh and holds you in place. “Perhaps I wanted to see how you were.”

“It has indeed been years.” Your arousal continues to build as he invades higher and higher. “So perhaps I have waited long enough to take what was rightfully mine.”

The muscles in your groin clench as he reaches the inside of your thigh, just above the knee, blocked from further travel by the short pants you wore under your skirt.

“Unless, of course...” He traces slow circles at the junction of your knee. “You want me to leave.”

You’ve never been this wet in the company of a man before. Your husband has certainly never made you feel this way. His hand continues to slide up your leg, searching for the ribbons that will unlock the most intimate part of you. You had planned to seduce the prince tonight, but you had not expected to enjoy it this much. “No, I don’t want you to leave.”

He grins. “I didn’t think so.” His fine fingers find the drawstrings to your pants and pull the knots apart with ease. He slides your undergarments down your legs, leaving you naked beneath your skirt, then pushes your skirt up to your waist so you lie bare before him. 

Your desire for him leaks from you and he can see it, glistening in the candlelight. 

“This”- he cups your sex in his large hand -“this should have been mine.”

You groan as his thumb finds the sensitive nub at the apex of your entrance. He rubs slow circles into you as you rock against his hand, more slick spilling from you as the heat in your groin grows. “I wanted to be yours,” you whisper.

He frowns, brows knitting together, throwing the scar into sharp relief on his face. “Don’t tell me things you think I want to hear.” He stops the circles against you, cupping you instead. “My wounds hadn’t even healed before you wedded my brother.”

“I had no choice in the matter.” You rock against him in frustration, chasing your arousal. Your family had raised you to marry the king, and Yoongi could no longer be king. Kings can’t have scars.

“You could have refused.” He resumes the rubbing of your clitoris with an even faster pace. “You could have run away. I would have found you.”

This time you pause him, stopping his hand with yours and looking him in the eye. “You could have refused to go.”

His eyes unfocus for a moment, staring into the darkness behind you. You imagine that he is feeling all the regrets of those years, the same as you.

The scar that mars his features gleams in the candlelight. The reason the crown prince was replaced. The reason he was not yours every night. You reach out to touch it but he stops you with a hand to your wrist before you reach his cheek.

“Don’t touch it.” He yanks you up off the floor by your wrist and flips you over onto your hands and knees, naked except for the skirt tied around your waist. He doesn’t bother untying it, just flips it up to expose your cunt again.

You groan when his fingers return to your core.

“Is this an unusual position for you, my queen?” You can hear the smirk in his voice even without seeing his face. “Tell me, what position does my brother usually fuck you in?”

He pairs his degradation with a renewed effort to coax your arousal from you. His hands grip your cheeks and spread them, putting you on display even further as he massages the fatty tissue.

“Does he treat you like a queen? Does he take his time to worship you properly?” He brings his mouth to you, tongue diving inside you as his thumb resumes its work on your clit. Your fingers curl into the bed sheets beneath you as you fight to stay upright.

He pulls away as you rock back against him. “Or does he fuck you like the whore he paid for?” He spanks you harshly right on your sex. You have to bite your lip to keep from calling out. The gold rings on his fingers sting, but it doesn’t stop more fluids from leaking from you.

In truth, your husband did neither. The king would visit you when he was drunk, fumble his way through your clothes to access what he wanted, thrust into you enough to achieve his own ends, and then leave. Sometimes he would thank you. Sometimes he wouldn’t bother speaking to you. Mercifully, these visits have become less and less frequent over the years.

“He does touch you, doesn’t he?” Two of Yoongi’s long fingers slide inside you easily, slick with your juices. “Clearly, your virtue is long gone. No virgin would open up so easily for me, would rock back onto my fingers so greedily.”

“He has touched me.” You gasp when Yoongi curls his fingers, pressing along your walls in a way your husband never has. “But not like this.”

“So tell me, my queen...” He pairs the press of his fingers inside you with the resumed pattern on your clit and your legs begin to shake. “Why, in these many long years, has my brother not put a child in you?”

“He can’t,” you gasp, finally spilling the reason you asked the prince here tonight.

“The king can’t have children?” He pauses his movements, but only for a moment, until you wiggle in your desperation for him to continue.

You groan as he curls his fingers again, but manage to nod. “They blame me for it.” The court, your family, your mother-in-law, even your husband himself told you it was your fault. The tide of politics was rapidly turning against you.

“Of course, they do. The body of the king can only be perfect. But you are replaceable.” He smacks your ass in emphasis for this last sentiment. “Surely he has fucked other women in the last five years.”

“He has.”

“But no little bastards run around these halls.”

“No, they do not.”

He pulls his fingers from you and holds them up your face. “Are you fertile today, my queen?”  Your slick strings between his fingers. “Is that why you asked me here tonight?”

“Yes…” Your empty cunt aches for him. “Yes, please, Yoongi…”

His fingers turn your chin to face him as he leans over you. “Then there is indeed something I can give you that my brother cannot.”

And then he kisses you. Soft and firm, hands gripping your neck to hold you against his mouth. It makes you breathless in a whole new way. You are fighting to hold yourself upright by the time he pulls away.

He moves behind you, not bothering to disrobe, but merely pulling his pants down far enough to release his erection. He grips your hips tightly as he  slides inside you.

“God…” he groans, hips stuttering as he seats himself in you. “This… this should be mine. You should have been mine.”

“I am yours, Yoongi, please.” You rock back against, delighting in the fullness of him finally being where you want him.

“Not as you should be.” His long hair tickles your back as he bends over you. “I stayed unmarried for you.” He punctuates each sentence with a thrust into you that grows stronger each time. “I waited for you. I let younger men talk down to me, worn my hair long, all for you. All in the vain hope that I might be yours when I returned. But you couldn’t wait for me.”

The sound of steel on steel echoes through your bedchamber and you startle. Have you been discovered? You try to look around, but Yoongi’s hand grabs your neck to hold you in place. Then you feel the cold bite of metal against the front of your thighs.

“I could mark you too,” he whispers, pressing the flat of the blade against your bare skin. “I could leave you scarred and unworthy like me.” His cock kicks inside you and you groan, trying to hold still despite the overwhelming desire for him coursing through you.

“What would my brother do then?” he muses. “Would he cast you out? Would he admit to the world that I claimed what was his just as he claimed what was mine? Or would he continue to fuck you, every time having to cross the mark I made on you.”

“Do it,” you urge, pressing back against him. “Mark me. Claim me as yours.” You want it. You want to be his and his alone.

There is a long pause. Then the blade is gone as the sword clatters to the floor beside you.

“I don’t need to mark you.” He resumes his thrusts, pace increasing as his grip on your hips tightens. “You’re going to grow round with my child and everyone will see it. They’ll all know and not be able to do anything about it. My son will sit on the throne someday. I’ll come back and fuck you every night until you birth my heir.”

He buries himself deep inside you as he finishes, warm seed pumping into you.

His fingers return to your clitoris, rubbing in firm circles as the last few aftershocks run through him. “Come, my queen, draw my child up inside you.”

You obey, pelvic muscles clenching rhythmically, squeezing hard around his softening cock and milking out the last of his release.

You sigh in relief as you collapse down onto the bed. You curl up on your side, drawing your knees to your chest.

He tuts as some of the white fluid begins leaking from you, running a finger across your sex one last time to gather it up and stuff it back inside you. Your cunt gives one last contented pulse of lingering arousal.

He pulls your skirt back down to cover you, patting your ass as he does so. He draws the bed sheets over you and kisses you one last time on the cheek. “Make sure my brother fucks you in the next few days,” he whispers. He blows out the candle, and then he’s gone.

_______

A/N: Hope you enjoyed that! I know there’s not any actual evidence for the “kings can’t have scars” thing in the historical record. But I needed it for the Angst™! I blame Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo. Thank you for reading! 

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Fake Dating drabble No. 6

I'm back with 1.6k of Marcus Pike (x F!Reader) who offered to be your date to your class reunion while you were drunkenly moaning about it after work.

Fake Dating Masterlist

Warnings: alcohol (i think that's it)

This was a bad idea. You knew it from the time you had asked him. Which was 80% the fault of the beers you had that night. The combination of alcohol and a missed lunch hadn’t been the best idea.

“My ex-husband is gonna be there. And I don’t want to be the divorced miserable wife I certainly not am. Cause I’m much more happy without him,” you rambled on. You looked at your boss sitting next to you. You had been out to celebrate. After months you finally had made an arrest on the case you had been working on ever since your boss got here almost a year ago. Your boss. Marcus Pike. Perfect, pretty, Marcus Pike who was looking at you with his soft and warm brown eyes with his teasing smile. His lips always looked so damn soft… Wait, was he talking?

“What?” you asked. He chuckled.

“If you don’t want to go alone I do look good in a suit,” he shrugged, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and you had to blink a couple of times until his words made sense in your drunken brain.

“Are you offering to be my date to my class reunion, Agent Pike?” you asked.

“I guess I am,” and then he winked at you with his stupid gorgeous eyes.

Yeah. Stupid idea. Not because he was your boss, but because you had the biggest crush on him. You could control it at work, you were a professional after all, but spending time with him outside of work seemed to be the challenge. Which wasn’t often, but often enough to make you beyond flustered just with the way he was looking at you.

Okay. You could do this. This is just like the time you went undercover with him on that event. This would be different though. Because you went to school with those people and well, because of your ex husband. You thought of canceling but he would probably make it seem like you were still the heartbroken little girl you had been back in school. And you should be over your school and ex-husband trauma but you were also petty as fuck. You lost way too much weight to not show it off. Giving yourself one last look in the mirror you smiled at yourself as you heard the doorbell.

It was just like being undercover. Right?

It was not just like being undercover. You noticed that as soon as you opened the door for Marcus who was dressed in black, cleanly shaven and looking at you with a soft smile that would have made you swoon if he wasn’t standing directly in front of you.

“You look beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you boss,” you winked with a grin.

“Ready to hear our cover story?” he asked as he waited for you to lock your door. You turned around, taking his offered arm as he led you to his car.

“Shoot.”

“We fell in love while working together,” he started the car and you nodded.

“Impressive. Good cover story. So thoughtful,” you teased.

“I know right?” he grinned and you shook your head with a smile as he began to drive. Most of the car ride was spent in a comfortable silence, yet you felt yourself growing nervous the closer you got.

You almost jumped when you felt his hand on top of yours on your thigh. Looking at him you smiled softly at him, the nervousness you felt before replaced by a warmth spreading through you. Shit you really had it bad for him. You made a mental note to yourself to not drink any alcohol tonight. You tend to get very affectionate while drunk. And Marcus Pike had made it very clear that the last thing he was looking for was a relationship after everything that happened with his last relationship.

It was like time just stopped as you walked through the doors of your old school. Even the smell was the same. You shook your head to yourself as you walked next to Marcus.

“This is like a really bad throwback,” you groaned as you walked past your old classroom. He chuckled before you felt him take your hand in his.

“I hated school. Or more like the people,” you sighed looking at him.

“So you’re here to…”

“Show everyone I’m not the sad ugly girl they had bullied for years? Sad. I know,” you shrugged as you walked within towards the big doors leading to the big hall where music was already playing.

“And to show off your new boyfriend?” he teased and you smiled. Was he… flirting?

“It’s sad, I know,” you groaned and he stopped walking.

“I did the same thing 10 years ago with my wife,” he said and you looked at him with big eyes.

“Yeah. I was the typical nerd in school. Try being a teenager who’s into art. High school was hell.”

“Aww you were already into art in school? That’s so cute. I would have dated you,” you winked.

“Yeah? Good thing we found each other then, huh?” he winked back and this time you did feel your cheeks growing warm at the look he gave you. If he noticed he didn’t show it.

“Come on. Let’s get some disgusting punch.”

Against all odds you really had fun. Marcus posed as the perfect boyfriend and you didn’t have to play the heart eyes you were giving him the whole evening. If you had only this night to play out your little fantasy of dating him, you would take full advantage of it before you had to make yourself fall out of love with him. Because he was your boss and you loved your job.

“The man over there keeps looking at you,” Marcus whispered against your ear. You were dancing to some cheesy song you didn’t recognize. Turns out Marcus Pike could dance. You frowned before you followed his eyes, seeing your ex husband stand there with none other than Babara Miller, the girl who had made your time in school a living hell.

“That’s my ex husband,” you rolled your eyes.

“You okay?” he asked, his hand on your back squeezing you lightly.

“Yeah,” you smiled up at him. For one moment you wished this would be real. That you could tell him that you loved him. That the look he gave you was genuine and not just an act. You breathed in deep. You didn’t want to be here anymore. This felt wrong. Fake. He seemed to pick up on that.

“Wanna get out of here? I’m starving,” he whispered.

“Please,” you nodded. He leaned down to kiss your forehead and you were close to tears before you felt his hand squeeze yours as he walked you out.

20 Minutes later you were the two fanciest dressed people at the hot dog booth Marcus had taken you to.

“These are really delicious,” you hummed, trying to look not like a starving animal as you ate. Marcus chuckled.

“I know. I got lost in the neighborhood in the first week I got here but I found the best hot dogs in the city, so I count it as a win.”

“Totally,” you nodded, taking a sip of the coke he had bought for you.

“So you live around here?” you asked.

“Yeah just two streets this way,” he pointed to your right.

“I guess I should get a cab home so you don’t have to drive all the way back to my place,” you suggested, but he shook his head, reaching over to you.

“No. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you drive home alone at night?” he asked and you sighed.

“You mean fake boyfriend,” you said and he only looked at you, his stupid gorgeous eyes not leaving yours. You bit your lip, looking away from him to set down your coke at the booth. When you looked up he seemed to have gotten closer. You didn’t miss how his eyes seemed to linger on your lips before he looked into your eyes.

“Yeah. Fake boyfriend. But even as your fake boyfriend I’m not letting you just get a cab home. I’m driving.”

“Okay okay,” you playfully rolled your eyes.

“You want a milkshake boss?” you asked.

“Make it chocolate.”

“Thank you for doing this for me,” you said as he walked you to your door. You still had your milkshake, peanut butter, in your hand, your other hand searching for your keys.

“You’re very welcome. It was nice. We should do that again,” he said and you looked up at him, an eyebrow raised.

“You mean more awkward class reunions?”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

“No. This. Us together. Hanging out after work,” he stepped closer and you smiled a little.

“Hanging out? How old are you? 14?” you teased and he rolled his eyes with a smile.

“I really, really had fun tonight. With you. And I’d like to take you out. On a real date. Let’s say next Saturday?” he asked and finally, you gave in to the stupid grin that you had tried to suppress the whole evening.

“You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?” you asked and he frowned.

“No, why?”

“Cause then I couldn’t do this…” you whispered before you got on your tiptoes to kiss him.

Taglist:

@ladyreapermc / @cherry-gemz / @yespolkadotkitty / @filthybookworm / @knittingqueen13 / @melchills-j / @justpedropascal / @raspberrymama / @parkjammys / @novicepearl / @disgruntledspacedad​ / @perropascal​ / @empress-palpat1ne​ / @hotspacepilots​ / @sleep-tight1 / @freeshavocadoooo / @princess76179 / @pumpkin-stars / @evyiione / @hollydaisy23 / @princesssterek / @palaiasaurus64 / @mouthymandalorian / @turkish276 / @maciiiofficial / @re-reads / @penwieldingdreamer / @trippedmetaldetector / @liviiii98 / @greeneyedblondie44 / @darnitdraco / @tobealostwanderer / @gracie7209 / @rosiefridayrogersunday

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Five

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Smut (18+), 

Word Count: 3.7K

A/n: hi I hope you enjoy this! So I’m thinking this will probably have two more parts and maybe an epilogue. I’m very very excited. Also my carpal tunnel has been hurting a lot lately so I haven’t been able to write much, plus I've been super tired. I hope to post more regularly and update stuff more often but I make no promises. Anyway, Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

~*~

“Going somewhere, Barnes?” The brunet smiles, raking a hand through his damp hair.

“Hell yeah, I am. I’ve got a date with the most gorgeous woman in the world.” Steve chuckles, shaking his head at his friend.

“Barnes doesn’t stink. What's he planning?” Sam asks, eyeing the way the brunet towel-dries his hair as he gathers his things.

Showering at the firehouse is something he likes to avoid at all costs. But smelling like sweat and fire before meeting you for another date? That’s ten times worse.

“Shut up, Sam.”

“He’s just jealous that no one wants to go out with him,” a female voice calls.

The men look to the doorway, smiles growing as they see Natasha standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asks, eyeing the cupcake in her hand.

“I come bearing gifts. Some better than others.” She steps aside and you smile from where she was standing, a Tupperware of cupcakes in your hands.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Steve calls. You wave weakly at him, smiling nervously as you walk over to the table where he sits.

“Hey, doll. What are you doing here?” Bucky asks, eyes devouring your figure.

“Hi. Nat said she was popping by so I thought I’d go with her. Save you the drive over to my place, too.” You look at Bucky as you say the last part, smiling timidly at the grin on his face.

He walks over to you and leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips while his arm wraps around your waist.

You pull away when Sam whistles, giggling softly and shaking your head.

“I uh... I brought some cupcakes for you and the guys. Nat said I should leave them for her but I thought you guys might want some.”

Sam and Clint are diving for the container before you’ve even finished speaking, and you can’t help but laugh at their eagerness.

Bucky moves to stand behind you, his chin on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your waist.

“You okay?” He asks softly. You nod, bringing your hands up to rest on his.

He knows how you get around his friends, nervous that they won’t accept you. When he introduced you to them for the first time you’d had to excuse yourself to take nearly a double dose of your pills.

“We can head out right away. I just need to grab my things.” You nod your understanding and he presses a soft kiss to your cheek before letting go of you.

“Well if you’re trying to win us over, it worked. These cupcakes are amazing, (Y/n).” You smile at Clint then over at Nat who gives you a knowing look.

The drive over was filled with you panicking and freaking out, hoping that they didn’t hate the cupcakes or think you were weird for making them.

“If Nat kept these to herself I think I’d die,” Sam says, interrupting your thoughts.

“These are the leftovers from our Halloween party. I’m not gonna eat them all and I don’t think it’s healthy for Nat and James to share two dozen cupcakes between the two of them.” Bucky pinches your butt and you yelp, swatting his hand away.

“I could’ve devoured those in ten minutes.” You nod, smacking his chest. “That’s what I’m worried about. There’s only room for one of us to have a heart problem in this relationship.”

Steve chokes on his cupcake and Nat cackles, shaking her head at you.

In the time that you and Bucky have been together, your confidence has grown so much, and for that Nat is very grateful.

“It’s okay to laugh,” you say, noticing the way Clint and Sam are staring at Bucky. The brunet shakes his head, hugging you tightly and chuckling into your hair.

“Always a comedian, huh?” You shrug, “one of us has to be funny.” Sam laughs then, Clint snorting while Steve coughs the cupcake out of his lungs.

“Alright. Enough of that. Let’s get going.”

You bid goodbye to everyone and walk with Bucky to his truck, smiling when he starts driving.

“So you’re my girl then?” He asks after a while, a smile on his face.

“I thought it was obvious after our first date,” you reply coyly, heart skipping a beat as you remember everything that took place.

Since then you’ve had your fair share of make-out sessions, each ending in him pulling away with the excuse of wanting to wait.

He chuckles softly, eyes on you for a long moment.

“Well, I just never know. Don’t want to assume anything.” You hum, pondering this for a moment.

“Have you been ‘playing the field’ then? Waiting ‘till we’re a real item to put yourself off the market?” You’re half-teasing, but he can hear the nervousness beneath your words.

“No way. With a sweet thing like you by my side, I’d never even dream of someone else, even if we weren’t official.” You feel reassured and relax into the seat.

“Where are we headed?” You ask after a moment, realizing you don’t know what his date plans are for tonight.

“Well, I figured since it’s the start of the weekend, we could have a delicious dinner of Italian bread, tomato spread, cheese, vegetables, and meat. Maybe top it off with some gourmet pureed milk with fresh vanilla, frozen to the perfect temperature.”

You blink at this then shake your head. “Pizza and ice cream?”

“Pizza and ice cream.”

~*~

You’re cuddled up next to him on his couch, head tucked on his shoulder and legs thrown over his lap. He’s got his metal hand on your knees and his flesh around your shoulders, holding you close to his body while the two of you watch the movie.

You’re tracing tiny patterns on the back of his metal hand, marvelling at how warm the material is beneath your touch.

Your fingers gradually make their way up until you’re drawing on his forearm.

He shifts slightly, hand resting on your hip and tugging you up until you’re seated on his lap. The position is nice, but not the one you want to be in, so you quickly shift to straddle his lap.

His eyes snap up to your face, beautiful blues capturing your gaze and looking straight into your soul.

“Hi,” he murmurs, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Your fingers find their way to his hair, combing through and nails gently scraping against his scalp.

“Hi,” you reply, voice just as soft as his.

Something in the atmosphere changes at that moment, the two of you taking note of it at the same time. The tension grows swiftly between the two of you as you each glance at the other’s lips.

“It’s been over a month,” you whisper, lips just hardly brushing over his. He nods, hands gripping your hips tightly as he pulls you hard against him, forcing you to feel the outline of his hardening cock.  

“It has. And you haven’t run away screaming yet so I must be doing something right.” You chuckle, lips pressing gentle kisses to his neck. “If tonight goes well, I don’t think I’ll ever run away.” He groans and his hips thrust upwards, making you gasp.

“A-are you sure?” He asks, genuinely concerned as he pulls back.

“I don’t wanna hurt you... and I don’t wanna get your heart going too fast.” You smile softly at him, cupping his cheeks in your hands.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, James. I want you. And if my heart gets too high, we’ll put my pills on the nightstand. I just want you. Please.” He lets out a big breath and you sigh, pushing off of his lap and scooting away from him until you’re at the opposite end of the couch.

“Babydoll, I didn’t say no. I’m just worried.” You say nothing. Instead, you keep your arms crossed over your chest and stare at the TV screen.

“C’mon doll. You’re not gonna be mad at me for caring about your heart, are ya?” You look over at him finally and sigh.

“It’s my heart, James. And if I wanna risk my health to have sex with you, that's my choice.” He chuckles and shakes his head, crawling over to you. His hands are on your body then, flipping you so you’re laying with your back against the arm of the couch. He climbs between your legs and grinds his hips against yours.

“If your heart needs a break you tell me, okay? I don’t care if I’m about to cum, you stop me and you take your pills. Your health is more important than anything to me.” You nod, eyelids fluttering closed as he grinds against you again.

“Do you promise? I won’t do anything unless you promise to tell me if it’s too much.” Yo open your eyes when he stops moving, hands coming up to his shoulders.

“I promise I’ll tell you if I need to take a breather, okay?” He nods, happy with your answer, then dives down to press a searing kiss to your lips.

The passion behind it is like nothing you’ve felt before, and you’re startled for a moment before kissing him back just as forcefully.

He grinds his length against your core through your clothes and you moan softly against his lips.

His tongue darts into your mouth, getting re-acquainted with every inch while his flesh hand shoves your shirt up just enough for some skin-to-skin contact.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down harder against you and rocking your hips up to meet his.

“You gonna let me eat you out?” The way the words fall breathlessly from his kiss-swollen lips makes you moan, nodding desperately. He chuckles softly, mouth making a wet trail down your neck.

His fingers come to the neckline of your shirt and, with little effort, he tears the fabric straight down the middle.

The blatant display of strength has you wiggling your hips in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the growing tension between your thighs.

His fingers dart behind your back, unclasping your bra expertly and tossing it aside.

Lips wrap around your nipple, tongue darting out for a moment before he nips at it with his teeth.

Your back arches up into his touch and he uses that to his advantage, groping your other breast and pinching at your nipple.

He pulls away after a moment, eyes dark and focused on your face while his hand slides up to rest on your throat, fingers pressing against your pulse point. You roll your eyes but he seems determined to make sure you’re not overworking yourself.

“Just checking,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips quickly before climbing down your body. He tugs your pants down, panties coming with them, and lays on his stomach between your legs.

You bring one hand up to cover your face, heart skipping a beat as he places kiss after kiss on your inner thighs.

“Relax for me, doll. Lemme treat you right.” You nod, taking deep breaths to try and calm down while he brings your thighs over his shoulders.

His tongue darts out and licks you from entrance to clit, sending sparks shooting from your core to your toes.

He repeats the action a few times before focusing on your clit, tongue swirling and massaging over the bundle of nerves. Your thighs clench around his head and your heels dig into his back.

“F-fuck.” You’re surprised at how quickly he gets you to the edge, but you pay it no mind for now. Instead, you bask in the feeling of his mouth on your core and his beard scratching your thighs.

Your hands grab at his hair, pulling him in while your hips buck up off the couch.

Mouth open in a silent scream of bliss, you convulse. Your thighs tremble atop his shoulders and your hands nearly rip his hair from his head, but he doesn't mind. No, if anything the pain spurs him on.

It isn’t until you give an intentional tug on his hair that he lets up, eyes finding yours as he slowly lowers your legs and sits back on his haunches.

His hands rub gently over your thighs while you catch your breath, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“You okay?” He asks, concern lacing his voice.

You nod, heart beating fast but not nearly fast enough to be concerning.

“Do you wanna take this to the bedroom?” He’s genuinely wondering if you want to continue and you find yourself smiling softly at him.

“Yeah, I really really do.” He nods, a smile spreading on his handsome face before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you into his bedroom.

He’s so gentle in his movements, carefully placing you on the bed, kissing every inch of skin he can reach.

He only stays with you for a moment before standing up and darting out of the room. You prop yourself up on your elbows in confusion, waiting nervously for him to come back.

When he does you feel your heart warm.

He’s got your pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“Just in case. So you don’t have to go far.” He sets them down on the bedside table then stands sheepishly beside the bed, cheeks pink. You crawl up onto your knees, grab the collar of his shirt, and yank him down onto the bed with you.

He collapses on top of you, catching himself at the very last second with his metal arm. Your lips find his in a kiss that's all teeth and tongue.

“Take off your clothes,” you whisper against his lips, fingers toying with his belt buckle.

He pulls back and yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor in a quick flash. Before he can come back, you’re tracing your fingers gently over his chest, eyes finding the angry red scarring on his shoulder.

His eyes are focused on your face as you trace over the scars with feather-light fingers, a frown tugging on the corners of your mouth.

“What?” He asks, worried that you’re disgusted with him.

“Do they hurt?” Your voice is a hushed whisper, almost as if you’re afraid of breaking the atmosphere of the dark room.

“Sometimes. But I deal with it.” You shake your head and look up at him, tears glistening in your eyes. “You shouldn’t have to.” His arms snake around your waist and he pulls you tight against his chest.

“We all have things that we shouldn’t have to deal with but we deal with them. I’m no exception.” You lean your head against his shoulder and press soft kisses to the place where metal meets flesh.

His fingers dance along your spine for a few minutes before he pulls away. You tilt your head back to look at him just as he leans down. His lips find yours, moulding against them so gingerly and expressing things that words could never.

Your arms wrap around his neck as he slowly leads you to lay down on the bed. Your legs come up around his waist, squeezing his waist and holding him tightly.

“You gonna fuck me?” The words slip out before you can stop them, but the growl that rumbles in his chest is enough for you to feel no regrets.

He leans back on his haunches and nearly tears his belt in half in his haste to get it off. His jeans are pushed off next, boxers coming with them until he’s naked before you.

You relax on your back as he leans over you, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You hold his biceps as he spreads your thighs with his knees.

“M’gonna treat you so well, darlin’.”

You nod, mouth dropping open in a gasp as he slides his hot length through your dripping folds.

He repeats the action a few times, coating himself in your slick before positioning the tip right at your entrance.

His eyes are locked on yours, holding your gaze as he slowly pushes into you, fire alight in his eyes at the choked moan that leaves your lips.

You finally manage to tear your eyes from his, staring down at where he’s pushing inch upon inch of his thick cock into your tight cunt.

There’s a brief moment of panic when you wonder if you’ll be able to take him fully.

“Look at that,” he murmurs, lips brushing gently over your temple. “Fuck, you feel so good... so nice...” You tilt your head back, relaxing further into the mattress as he bottoms out, hips flush against yours.

Your breathing hard, eyes shut and hands holding his biceps tightly as you adjust to his impressive size, the intrusion so foreign after so long.

“You okay?” He asks gently, voice laced with concern. You nod, taking a moment to actually check in with yourself. Your heart is beating fairly quickly, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“I-I’m okay. Can you...?” You trail off but he gets the idea, pulling his hips back only to press them forward. You moan softly, nails biting into the sensitive skin of his right arm and he hisses at the pain, snapping his hips forward harder and finding a steady pace.

Your head digs into the mattress, pleasure bubbling up and filling up the space inside of you with sparks as his cock hits the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

“Fuck... right there... fuck...”

He assaults your neck with rough kisses, his beard scratching at the sensitive skin and adding to the intense feeling of euphoria like gasoline to a fire.

Each thrust of his hips pushes you closer and closer to the edge, and your heart picks up speed as your climax approaches.

His metal hand pushes its way between your bodies down to where the two of you are connected, immediately working your clit and successfully pushing you into your climax.

Your entire body ignites, every nerve on fire and every cell up in flames. It rolls over you in wave after wave, drowning the rest of your senses so that all you can focus on is the feeling of him between your legs, pushing you headfirst into the most intense orgasm of your life.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock brings him rushing to his own release, hips faltering as he tries to maintain his composure and fuck the two of you through your highs.

He cums in hot bursts, painting your walls white and filling you with his seed. Your chest heaves, breaths coming in hard and fast in both an attempt to get oxygen and slow your heart, and also come down from your high.

Bucky pushes himself off of you upon hearing your laboured breaths and after one glance at your heaving chest, he’s pulling out of you and reaching over to grab your pills and the glass of water.

He balances them both in one hand and helps you sit up carefully, handing you the small bottle and then the glass of water.

You take your pills as quickly as you can, avoiding his eyes until your heart stops racing, and even then you don’t look up.

“Hey, look at me,” he whispers, taking the objects from your hands and setting them back on the table.

You slowly do, eyes glossy with tears as you bring your knees up and hug them to your chest.

“What’s wrong? Why the tears?” You shake your head, closing your eyes tightly and taking a few deep breaths.

“I ruin everything,” you whisper softly, pressing your forehead to your knees as tears drip down your cheeks.

He’s quiet for a long while, trying to figure out what’s making you say something so ridiculous.

“What... why would you say that, sweet girl?” You shake your head, sniffling.

“My stupid heart ruins everything. We were having a moment and I-” “Hey, you listen to me.” The urgency in his voice has you looking up instinctively, but you find nothing but softness on his face.

“Your heart is anything but stupid, okay? Your heart is amazing and it makes you who you are. I couldn’t care less if you have to stop and take your pills every time we have sex. If you wanna have sex again. I mean, I enjoyed it and I hope you did too, but if you didn’t that's okay, but maybe let me try again so that you can enjoy it more. But if you don’t want to that's totally fine, I don’t want you to feel pressured into having sex with me again if you don’t want to.” He stops himself and shakes his head, sighing heavily.

“What I'm trying to say, is that you could quite literally stop me as I'm about to blow my fricken load and take your pills and I wouldn’t be upset. We could be fighting, and if you need to take your pills it’s all behind us. Just because your heart needs a little help doesn’t make it any less important, okay? I will always put your health above anything.” You let out a shaky breath then nod, new tears welling up in your eyes at his words.

“Oh no. No more tears, doll.” You shake your head, a teary smile spreading on your face.

“You’re the nicest man I’ve ever met. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.” He’s got you wrapped in his arms in an instant, metal arm tight around your back and flesh hand holding the back of your head gingerly.

“Oh, darlin’...” His own eyes prickle with tears as he presses his lips to your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, pulling back after a moment and giggling softly.

“Don’t be. This is how I want things to be. I want us to be able to cry and laugh right after sex. It’s how we should be. And I’m so happy that you’re comfortable with me.”

You sniffle and nod, fingers toying with his metal hand.

“How about we go take a shower then get nice and cuddled up in bed? I’ve been meaning to catch up on some of that show you introduced me to.” Your eyebrows raise and he chuckles.

“How’s that sound, pretty girl?” You nod, a small smile on your face. “It sounds perfect.”

[nights-legacy]

Not That Easy!-Kirishima

                  First time trying to hold their hand. Does it go right or wrong?

       MHA Masterlist

        + Kirishima is a very energetic and lovable guy. So when it comes to his s/o he is no different. Although, he has kept himself reined in due to their relationship being so new and he didn’t know how she would felt about intimate actions. You on the other hand have been thinking about it just as much. You knew Kiri would most likely be alright with it but it still was nerve racking.

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

           Yells and whoops of cheers were heard around the area as Todoroki, Iida, and Tsuyu came back from a successful train exercise. I laughed and hug Tsuyu as they came back. She laughed with me and hugged me back tight. I then high fived Todoroki and Iida.

           “Okay, good run you three.” Aizawa sensei said not looking up from his info pad. “Okay Kirishima, Mina, and Midoriya up next.”

           “Good luck guys.” I said. I got a quick side hug from Midoriya and a peck on the cheek from Mina. Kiri walked up next and smiled at me. “Good luck Kiri.”

           “Thanks, baby.” He said before passing me slowly.

           “You two need to just kiss and get it over with. Your pining is even worse now that your two are dating.” Bakugo groaned. I blushed and turned away from him. He laughed out loud.

           “It’s not that easy. At least not for me.” I chastised. I turned back to look at him. He raised an eyebrow at me. I sighed. I hopped up on a concrete block and sat criss-cross apple sauce. Bakugo leant against the block with his arms crossed.

           “How is it not that easy?” He asked.

           “I-I don’t know! It just isn’t. I mean we haven’t even held hands yet!” I exclaimed, hiding my head in my hands. He hummed. I peeked out between my fingers. He was looking out over the area in front of us.

           “Well then, baby steps. You got to hold hands first. Are you ready for that?” He looked at me.

           “Yes.” I said after a few moments. “I really want too! I just…I don’t know. And I know Kiri would be all for it. There has been countless times where he has reached for my hand and then pulled back before he could grab it.”

           “Huh.” I pouted as he made a noise of confusion.

           “What?” I asked. He looked at me before looking at the training area. I followed his eyes to see Kiri having the time of his life it seems like.          

           “Shitty hair talks about you all the time. All this gushy stuff that in all honesty annoys the shit out of me, lets me know that he wants to do all that...intimate crap with you. So it surprises me that he has held back so much.” He admitted. “I know he’s respectful but he seems so excited.”

           “Really?” He nodded. Cheers drew our attention and I saw the group coming back. I watched Kiri as he was doing a happy dance and interacting with Kaminari. As if he felt me watching him, his head turned and his gaze met mine. He smiled a toothy smile before winking at me with a wave.

           “Goo-goo eyes.” Bakugo said. I turned toward him quick. He gave me a sideways glance. “He’s making his goo-goo eyes at you.”

           “L/N, Bakugo, and Jiro. You’re up next.” We hopped up and started that way. I walked up and went to pass by Kiri.

           “Good luck, baby.” He encouraged as I walked up.

“Thanks.” I smiled while I reached up and brushed my hand across his shoulder affectionately as I walked passed. Kiri’s eyes darted to my hand as I did touch him. I didn’t see his next reaction because I looked away blushing.

“Tsk.” I looked over at Bakugo who had a smirk on his face. He raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing there, L/N?”

“Shut up.” I muttered.

“What am I missing?” Jiro asked. She looked at us. Bakugo laughed.

“He’s teasing me about Kiri.” I told her. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

Training went good for us but not as smooth as the rest of the teams. While we were fighting the assailant of the exercises, a piece of the building gave way under Bakugo and mines feet. We feel quite a few stories before landing rough and hard. We didn’t have any bad injuries but we were sore.

“Alright. That’s the end of today’s training. Also the end of the day, class has been granted an early out today.” There were cheers at that statement. We all started walking towards the locker rooms. “Are you alright, L/N.” I stopped and looked at Aizawa.

“Yes. I am just a little sore.” I said rubbing my arm where it was bruising.

“If it gets worse I want you to report to Recovery Girl. That goes for you too Bakugo!” Aizawa-sensei said louder across the yard. Bakugo threw up his arm in recognition without turning around.

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.” I chuckled before walking on. It took a little bit to get changed since most of my soreness and bruising was in my shoulders and knees. It hurt to bend at the joints. I got done and left saying bye to the other girls. I walked out and saw a couple of figures ahead of me. Bakugo and Kiri.

“Hey guys.” I called out and they turned towards me, stopping. They let me catch up. We continued on and they talked about stuff that I didn’t try to keep up with. I caught Bakugo’s eye and he motioned his head towards Kiri. My eyes widen and I shook my head. He gave me a bitch face before motioning again with a stern look.

“You know what, I left one of my notebooks and worksheets in the classroom. I’ll catch up with you two at the dorms.” Bakugo said, taking off towards the school building. I watched as he went.

“That’s strange, Bakubro forgetting something. Okay.” Kiri said. We continued on. We walked in silence for a few seconds before he spoke up. “Crap. Are you alright?” He jumped in front of me, walking backwards.

“Yes Kiri I’m alright. Bakugo was able to break our fall well enough.” I said. He signed if relief before his eyes darted to my cheek where there was a cut.

“But you’re all scraped and bumped up.” He pouted. “Maybe we should go to Recovery Girl. Just to make sure.”

“I am fine Kiri. I think I could tell if I wasn’t.”

“I know but maybe there is something that you are not realizing. Like the adrenaline is blocking something. Maybe…”

“Kirishima!” I yelled, reaching out and grabbing his hand to pull him to a stop. We both froze as we realized what I did. We both looked down at the action. I glanced at Kiri who was still staring at our hands. A gentle smile started to grow on his face. His grip on my hand started to tighten.

“Alright. I am sorry. I just don’t like seeing you hurt.” He said looking back up at me with puppy eyes. I smiled and gripped his hand back. I reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair off his forehead.

“That’s sweet of you but I promise I will let you know if I get the slightest bit of pain I can’t bear.” I told him. He nodded and brought our joined hands to his lips. He kissed my hand and let his lips linger.

“Thank you.” He whispered. He moved to my side and we started walking again. I looked down, mentally cheering in my head. “At least let look you over when we get back to the dorms. I know I at least want to get the cut that’s on your cheek cleaned up.”

“Yes. I think I can let you do that.” I giggle.

“And maybe you can help me convince Bakugo to be check over. He seems to listen to you best out of everyone in class. It’s a lot less likely that I’ll get my head chewed off if you help me.” I laughed and so did he.

“I will try my best but no promises.” I said while waving at a few other students that we passed on the way. I smile absentmindedly and looked off into the distance.

“What?” Kiri spoke up.

“Huh?” I looked up at him confused.

“You had this blushy, cute little face on. What were you thinking about?” He asked with a smile and one eyebrow raised.

“Oh nothing. Just that I’m really happy.” I said while setting my head on his shoulder while gripping onto his arm with my other hand. He continued smiling and set his head on top of mine.

“I am too. I’ve wanted to hold your hand for sooo long but I didn’t how you would feel about it. I didn’t want to force anything on you that you were not ready for. I just wanted it to be perfect.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Guess my little freak out and you having to snap me out of it wasn’t the most perfect scenario, right?”

“It may not have been the perfect scenario for our first time holding hands but I wouldn’t have it any other way because it was us. It was our of it happening and that is perfect to me.” I said looking him in the eyes. I saw admiration, joy, and excitement flash through his eyes all at once.

“Well then, if it was perfect for you, it was perfect for me. As long as you’re happy.” He flashed his pearly shark teeth.

“As long as WE”RE happy.” I corrected. He chuckled and nodded before bringing my hand up and kissing it swiftly.

“As long as we’re happy.“

[taexual]

i’d love you to stay but that’s simply insane // JJK (19)

    jungkook is an uncontrollable lead vocalist of the campus band, and you’re a goal-oriented top student that’s known his rich and complicated family since childhood. you don’t want anything to do with each other, until each other is exactly what you want to do.

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: college au

warnings: suggestive themes, some angst

words: 7.7k

    chapter nineteen

You expected Jungkook to skip class the next Monday morning because neither of you had gotten enough proper sleep this weekend, but, surprising you, he was standing outside of your dormitory even though it was barely light outside, holding two coffees in his hands, and smiling.

Squinting at him suspiciously, you waited for an explanation why he looked so excited to be awake at seven in the morning – not to mention, why he got up early to get you and him coffee, and then showed up at your dormitory in time to catch you leave.

“I just wanted to go to class together with my girlfriend,” Jungkook said simply enough, emphasizing the last word.

“You’re lying,” you said, still watching him intently but accepting his coffee nevertheless. You almost considered yourself overly paranoid as soon as you took a sip of the blissful beverage, but Jungkook’s smile widened.

“Okay, fine,” he said, unable to hold it in much longer. “Yoongi told me something last night and I’d been looking forward to talking to you about it, so I’m still on a high.”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“No—listen. We got an out-of-town gig,” he said, his eyes glittering so bright, some of the street lamps nearby flickered awkwardly, intimidated. “It’s the first one. Apparently, the manager of some club or event hall—I don’t know—was visiting a relative on campus this Friday, and they saw us play. It’s next weekend. I want you to come with me.”

“Tha—that’s great, wow. I’m proud of you,” you said and you did mean it but, at the same time, you felt worried.

Jungkook had abandoned Parental Advisory right before the encore last Friday. What if some inane force got into his head and made him ditch the show again? He was obviously still not used to the consequences of his actions since, most of the time, he miraculously came out of every mess alive.

“You’re all very excited, I don’t doubt,” you said, choosing your words carefully, “but, uh… are you sure about this?”

You could see some of the initial joy fade away from his face after your question, and your mind immediately awarded you with a mental kick.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Well, last Friday—” you tried but Jungkook cut in as if he’d guessed that this was going to be the direction in which your conversation turned.

“No, don’t,” he said hurriedly, not wanting you to say another word about how much frustration he’d caused his bandmates. “We’re fine. We’re family, we don’t fight long.”

You nodded empathetically – or so you hoped – and tried again, “I was just saying that you—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off again, still smiling patiently even though his voice was inching closer to the edge with each hesitant word that came out of your mouth. “You’ll be there with me. I’ll be fine.”

The confidence in his tone was infectious, however.

He said he’d be fine. You weren’t going to insist and make him doubt himself, not when he was voicelessly asking you to trust him.

“I hadn’t technically said yes,” you pointed out instead, more to tease him than anything else.

Jungkook replied, tongue-in-cheek, “I asked as a courtesy. I’m kidnapping you if you don’t agree to come with me.”

Relieved that the tension seemed to dissipate after you decided not to shove your worries on him and maybe even push them away from your own shoulders, too, the two of you started to walk towards the building where your class was going to take place.

“You always take my choices away from me,” you told him, a playful smile still on your lips. “Let me make a decision.”

Jungkook nearly froze, feeling the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. He saw your face and could recognize that you were just playing around, not really trying to tell him that you were offended, but your words, joking or not, still hit a painful, throbbing spot inside of his mind.

He was using your feelings for him to get you to do what he wanted. He was doing it again. Even despite his mother’s concerns about his influence on you seven years ago. Even despite you both being adults now.

“I wasn’t—I… I just didn’t want you to make the wrong choice,” he said, browsing through dozens of lame excuses and choosing the one that made him sound the least like an asshole.

You knew he wasn’t an asshole. That was why you didn’t get upset when he told you that you were coming before you got a chance to accept his offer.

Still, wanting him to open up and explain what was going on inside of his head, you wondered aloud, “what’s the wrong choice here? Me, not going with you?”

“Yes,” Jungkook answered, not hesitating but looking down at the gravel underneath his boots,  “I need you there with me,” that didn’t sound right. He corrected himself with an awkward chuckle – as if to reduce the strength of his next words, “I always need you with me. That’s why I didn’t wait for you to—”

“Well, say it like that, then,” you asked in a voice that was almost as impatient as your heart, who’d suddenly decided it wanted to leap out of your chest and take a walk around campus. “I’ll never say no.”

His face lit up. “Is that a promise?”

You responded to him by smiling and then looked away, letting him know, “absolutely not.”

“What?” the boy blinked, suddenly lost in his translation of your language. “You just said—!”

“You’re a shithead with unreadable intentions,” you told him kindly. “I can’t promise to always say yes to everything you do. But if you actually ask—”

“Okay,” he gave in, accepting your condition because you were making a good point. “I’m asking now.”

You nodded, appreciating that he did ask, after all, even though it’d all been decided already.

“I’ll come,” you said.

Jungkook smiled – genuinely now, not looking for ways to tease you or fool around anymore – and exhaled heavily to show you an exaggerated version of how relieved he was to hear this.

“Thank you,” he said. “I love you.”

The confession was supposed to be the new normal, but your heart was still on a field-trip, your heartbeat echoing all over your body as you smiled back. “I love you, too.”

The first time you saw Inna since she left last Friday, was when you got home from class on Monday. She heard you come in but, contrary to what you’d expected, she didn’t greet you by the door, demanding to know what had happened over the weekend.

Instead, you found her sitting by her desk, turned over in her chair as she was facing the door of the bedroom, a smirk on her face.

Automatically, you felt your own lips stretch into a smile as you entered the room, asking, “what?”

“Should I prepare for a third roommate to move in with us?” she asked, taking enormous pleasure in the way you sat down on the bed and purposefully turned away from her to unpack your bag.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, hoping to sound nonchalant but, judging from the way Inna snorted, probably sounding desperate to change the topic. “Did you have a good weekend?”

“Oh, I did,” she replied, her face still adorning a Cheshire Cat’s grin. “But I bet it was nothing like the weekend you’d had.”

Pursing your lips because you couldn’t help but feel yourself respond to her cheerful expression with a smile, you asked, “will you stop looking at me like that?”

“I absolutely won’t,” she replied, “not until you tell me every detail.”

“You don’t want every detail…”

The way your sentence faded made Inna gasp. She jumped from her chair abruptly and threw herself across the room, landing on her stomach right next to you, on your bed, her legs flying up from the floor in excitement.

“Oh, like hell, I do!” she exclaimed, drumming on your thigh with her palms as she waited for you to stop digging around your bag and finally give her something. “Come on, I’m starving here. Feed me.”

Almost laughing, you allowed Inna to grab your bag out of your hands and shove it away, out of your reach.

“Did you hear how that sounded?” you asked as you lied down on the bed next to her.

“Unfortunately, I did,” she countered, “because you won’t start talking. Come on! I know you want to.”

You did want to. But, unfortunately for your dignity, you also wanted to giggle uncontrollably and your roommate’s encouragement wasn’t helping your restraint.

“I won’t be able to say one sentence if you keep looking at me like that,” you warned her.

Inna had a solution for everything, turning away from you as she talked you through her plan, “Talk to my back. I promise I’ll stay quiet. Well, no, actually, I can’t promise that, but I promise I will definitely hear you out until the end before I start screaming.”

In fact, she did not.

You could hear her supportive whining and flapping of her feet as soon as you told her about how you found Jungkook outside of your dorm room when you returned from the barbecue. Her response to your story kept growing louder, and, before you were through with the re-telling of the conversation you’d had with Jungkook this morning, she was nearly shrieking, making it impossible for you to quit beaming.

Even when you expressed your concern about Jungkook’s tense relationship with his bandmates, Inna responded in a way that supported your joyful state of mind and made all of your anxiety seem unnecessary and over-the-top.

“This is it,” she declared, triumphant. She still wasn’t looking at you. “You’re really together this time and there’s nothing that can happen to ruin that.”

“Famous last words, Inna.”

“Oh, please,” she turned on her back, looking at you through her eyelashes. “You’ve reached the limit of the curveballs the universe can throw at you. You’re fine now.”

You felt a natural instinct to argue – it was like a rudimentary reaction to anything that promised you a good future: you had to find every way in which something could go wrong so you’d be prepared once it inevitably did – but you swallowed it, nodding instead.

“Yeah,” you agreed, choosing to live in the moment because it was too precious to just let it pass. “We’re fine now.”

Coincidentally – marking the beginning of a new period in your life – something almost unbelievable happened on the day of the Parental Advisory performance.

Because a gig out-of-town was, obviously, a huge deal for a band that had only performed locally before, Jungkook brought it up to his parents.

He did it offhandedly, almost as a last-minute way to let them know that he was finally advancing in more than one aspect of his life. And also, to spite his father who’d called his band a “hobby”. 

But, surprising him to the moon and back, his parents asked if they could come and watch him play.

And so, they were here, inside of the venue, exploring the poorly lit and barely furnished event hall, and not being any more judgmental than they usually were.

“It starts at eight, right?” Jungkook’s mother asked you, since her son was backstage with the band, dealing with the lighting. “Maybe we could sneak in some dinner before the show.”

“Oh, actually, the band is planning to go out for some food together,” you said, unsure if the invitation extended to parents – and doubting it very much, considering the name of the group – but still feeling like it wouldn’t be polite to not invite them. “Maybe you could—”

“No, we won’t intrude,” Jungkook’s father replied this time. “We’ll meet you here after. Eight o’clock sharp. Although, being sharp doesn’t matter much at events like these, right?”

He smiled, waiting for your supportive laughter, but you could barely muster up a chuckle.

He’d said it like he was about to watch a street performer break dance outside of an opera house – like it was a form of art that was universally acknowledged, but it didn’t hold any meaning in the larger context of art – and you had to fight your sense of justice so you wouldn’t correct him.

Jungkook may have been reckless and, sure, he may not have finished a show one time – that you knew of – because he got wasted instead, but you’d never heard of a Parental Advisory performance that did not start exactly on time. Inna had used this argument to convince you to get into them a dozen times before: the members respected their audience, they didn’t think of this as a joke.

“Yes, eight o’clock,” you said, the same polite smile frozen on your face. “Jungkook is really looking forward to this.”

“He should be looking—”

“We are, too,” his mother stepped in, bringing a hand to your shoulder and squeezing it gently – a gesture meant to make up for her husband’s immediate response about what Jungkook should have been looking forward to. “We’ll see you later tonight.”

You nodded and followed after them so you could see them out of the venue – not that this was your responsibility, but it felt like the right thing to do since their son wasn’t here – except someone grabbed your hand right after you reached the exit. Gasping in shock, you turned around to see the son in question, grinning at you.

Fighting off the surprise, you looked back to see his parents walk out of the venue and then narrowed your eyes at Jungkook as you inquired, “were you waiting for your parents to leave before you came out?”

“Yes,” he admitted, shameless. “Sorry I had to use you to keep them company.”

“It’s fine, they’re nice people,” you said and then added teasingly, “you should hang out with them sometime. I think they’d like you.”

Jungkook gave you a look full of skepticism. “I could hear my dad basically call my band useless from all the way over there.”

“He—” you started, but then realized that defending his father would have meant lying to Jungkook, so you sighed instead. “Yeah. He just doesn’t see what this is all about, I guess. Have your parents ever watched you perform before?”

“What do you think?” he asked, nervously tugging on your hand – that he kept on holding – as a reflexive reaction whenever the topic turned to his family.

You nodded knowingly.

“So, this will be their first time,” you said. “They’ll come around. Well, your dad will. Your mom seemed excited.”

“About the show?” Jungkook asked, lifting up your hand and intertwining your fingers, “or about the fact that you’re here with me?”

You smiled, unable to help it. “Both?”

“No, that can’t be it,” he countered, taking one remaining step to close the distance between you. He dropped your hand on his shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist. “No one’s more excited about having you here than me.”

You ignored your racing pulse and played along, “are you sure? Because I’m pretty excited. I was even thinking of getting one of those ‘I’m with the band’ t-shirts that I remember your groupies wearing.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in humor. “My groupies?”

You shook your head in a chastising manner. “Don’t act so surprised.”

“That’s not surprise, that’s indifference,” he spoke and, even though he was clearly using his lines on you again, the smell of his cologne when he stood so close to you, pressing your body against his, was too intoxicating for you to call him out on it. “And, in any case, I’d like to see you wear something else entirely.”

“Hmm? What’s that?”

Jungkook leaned in closer until you could feel his breath on the nape of your neck as he whispered, “nothing at all.”

Almost jumping in surprise as a wave of excited shivers ran down your spine at his words, you squeezed his bicep in a warning manner and chuckled. If Jungkook didn’t know you better, he’d have thought you sounded nervous when you spoke again.

“Don’t forget where are are,” you reminded him as he hummed against your neck, pressing several gentle, butterfly kisses on your tender skin. “Your bandmates are right behind that wall—”

“Are they?” Jungkook asked, pulling away enough to look at you but not enough to give you any space to breathe as his forehead lingered mere millimetres away from yours. “Maybe we should do a soundcheck of our own, make sure they can really hear us?”

You watched him with parted lips and he cherished in rendering you speechless so much, he couldn’t help the smirk that spread on his face right before he leaned in to kiss you.

Sighing – mostly in defeat because, clearly, he’d succeeded and you weren’t going to protest much anymore – you tightened your grip on his shirt as you kissed him back.

Jungkook had very much forgotten where he was as soon as he felt the softness of your lips against his and, taking a few steps forwards until your back hit the wall, he used the element of surprise to his own advantage as he deepened the kiss, trapping your body between his and the wall.

Both of you could hear muffled noises, coming from somewhere in the venue, but just like before – in his childhood bedroom or in the hallway of your dormitory – you were too far gone to care about any noise – or anything at all – that wasn’t literally right in front of you.

He kissed you like he had a point to prove, like the performance he’d come here for wasn’t going to begin at eight, but it began now. And he gave his all, pulling you closer and tightening his grip on your waist as his fingertips crept down to your belt to pull out the turtleneck that you’d carefully tucked into your jeans this morning.

Wanting to touch you, not just your clothes, he evidently couldn’t have cared less about your relative exposure to the rest of the venue, as he pulled out your sweater and sneaked his hands underneath. As soon as his fingers felt the warmth of your skin, he exhaled into the kiss, forcing you to grasp his shirt harder.

You knew of Jungkook’s abilities when it came to mood swings – the boy could climb from zero to one-hundred in under a second, that was nothing to him – but the unexpected lust and the intense passion of his kisses still took all of your breath away as you held onto him, not making any requests to slow down or take a break even if your lungs were starting to ache.

“Oi!” a voice called out suddenly. Jungkook didn’t even flinch, kissing you harder, if anything. “You need to tune in your—nevermind. Just hurry up and come backstage, will you?”

Jungkook made no sound of acknowledgement whatsoever, too focused on the task at hand and too lost in the feeling of your lips to worry about anything else, so you were the one who had to pull away, your lips smacking against his as you broke the kiss. When he opened his eyes, Jungkook looked almost offended.

“They’re waiting for you,” you told him, breathing heavily as if you were recovering from finishing first at a marathon. He looked at you as if you spoke a different language. You tried, “the band?”

“They can—”

“We don’t have the whole day!” his member called out again – you couldn’t see which one it was because Jungkook still refused to pull away – and you heard him open the door to return backstage. He shouted at Jungkook again before leaving, “but you do your thing! Not like a lead vocalist is that hard to replace.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes at the last part and you felt yourself smile softly, nodding your head in the direction of the stage.

“Go,” you encouraged. “I’ll go sightsee.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And leave me here?”

“You have a soundcheck to get to.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, grinning again as he leaned in to press a soft kiss right below your jawline. He pulled away far enough to add, “with you.”

You half-laughed, half-exhaled as he peppered gentle kisses down your neck.

“Not that kind of—Jungkook,” your voice did not sound nearly as stern as you wanted it to; even your hands seemed limp as you tried to push him off of yourself and gain some space to breathe, “seriously.”

He reacted to your rejection in the way he always did – by taking a step away from you and giving you an almost mournful look, “you are pushing me away. That is unacceptable.”

“You have more important matters right now,” you told him.

“I do not,” he insisted childishly.

“You do,” you repeated and then, pushing yourself off the wall, you placed your hands on his shoulders as you attempted to turn his resistant frame around, “go. I’ll come back in time for the dinner.”

Jungkook allowed you to push him towards the door to the back of the stage, but he still whined dramatically in a last-ditch attempt to tug at your heart-strings, “I don’t want you to leave.”

“You act like you’re five years old sometimes,” you told him and then added, less seriously, “I’ll see you soon. Be a good boy and behave.”

“Oh, behave,” he repeated, intrigued now. You stopped in front of the door and released your grip on his shoulders, allowing him to turn to face you. The twinkling lights in his eyes were challenging as he asked, “will I get a reward if I behave?”

“Yes,” you said, “your reward will be not getting your ass handed to you by your members. Now go.”

You gave him one last nod towards the door and then a reassuring smile, too, because the boy was pouting as if this was his first day in kindergarten; you felt ridiculous and he was absolutely using that to win more of your love. 

You were about to turn around to leave when Jungkook suddenly leaped forwards, taking your hand and stopping you.

“You’re leaving without kissing me goodbye?” he asked, looking almost outraged. “Your audacity is just—”

You pressed your lips to his abruptly, shutting him up before he could proceed any further with this game, and then pulled away as soon as you felt his grip on you tighten; Jungkook was losing his sense of reality again.

Not saying anything else, you used his disappointed reaction as a way to get your hand out of his without him stopping you, and then, with a quick wave, you jogged towards the door. When you turned to glance at him one more time before you left, Jungkook was still standing there, shaking his head and smiling at the ground.

You‘d checked Google Maps before arriving to get acquainted with the area and, as it turned out, you didn't have to look very far to find an activity to occupy yourself with, because right across the street from the venue, was a horror book store that Namjoon had told you about before, back when you were working on your Sociology project.

Snapping a quick picture of the exterior of the store, you texted it to Namjoon to let him know you visited it, and went inside to explore.

The space was small, with barely enough room for two people to pass each other, but it was paradise for every horror fan. Not only did it contain books – many of them first editions, no less! – but also old DVDs and promotional movie posters. Actually, you thought you even saw a few VHS tapes hidden behind some books, too.

Canceling your plans to explore the rest of the city, you made a split-second decision to spend the few hours before the dinner here. And you didn't regret not going anywhere else – the several books and movies that you‘d bought seemed like a great purchase and you were satisfied.

However, as you headed for the restaurant where the band was supposed to meet up for dinner, you felt weirdly worried. It was Jungkook who‘d sent you the address of the restaurant, but he sent you four texts of it, and you were concerned that no one else was going to show up because he‘d only informed you – four times – and forgot about everyone else.

As it turned out, that wasn't what you should have been worried about.

In fact, at first, you didn't think there was anything worth worrying about at all. You saw the boys seated at a table outside, underneath a large parasol, laughing and having drinks. Jungkook noticed you first and he stood up to meet you on the steps of the patio.

“Heyyy,” he said as soon as he saw you, drawing out the y’s for what felt like three whole seconds.

You lifted your eyebrows but chose not to make a comment. “Hi. Did you order yet?”

“No, we were waiting for you,” he explained, putting a hand around your shoulders to guide you towards the table. He didn’t duck when you two walked past the narrow space between two tables and nearly got his eye taken out by a parasol rod. “Oh, wow! Now that—that could have killed me.”

“It could have blinded you,” you said, giving him a long look, “how would it kill you?”

Laughing instead of replying – because, apparently, you had just made a joke – Jungkook helped you into your seat and took one right next to you. When he turned to take your glass and fill it with champagne – the waiter had left three bottles on the table; one of which was already empty – you got to take a closer look at him and realized with horror that his red eyes were definitely not a sign of having had too much champagne.

“So, how was the soundcheck?” you asked, looking at the other members of his group – which was a mistake because Jungkook wasn’t aware of how much champagne was too much, and it ended up spilling out of your glass and pouring all over the table. “Careful—! Jungkook, why—let me. I’ll do it.”

He was laughing again and apologizing as he clumsily tried to clean up the mess on the table with the sleeve of his jacket. Gently pushing him back into his chair by his shoulder, you grabbed a few napkins and tried to soak up the liquid that hadn’t seeped into the tablecloth yet.

The rest of the group wanted to help – a chorus of belated “oh!”’s sounded around the table – and, even though you expected them to be about as useful as Jungkook, they proved to be a lot more in touch with their surroundings.

“The soundcheck,” Jungkook said, pinching his thumb and index finger and kissing it like a chef, while everyone else around the table cleaned, “was great. We’ll have an unforgettable night.”

You saw Taehyung giggle and gave him an inquisitive look – one that proved to be more threatening than you’d intended, because the boy blinked and stopped smiling as soon as he caught your eye – prompting him to explain.

“We had a quick, little smoke before we came here,” Taehyung said and then nodded his head at Jungkook, “him a little more than the rest of us.”

From the way it seemed, the smoke Jungkook had had was nor quick, nor little – he was swinging on the back legs of his chair as he sipped champagne; a second later, he lost his balance and would have fallen over if you hadn’t been standing next to him.

Hearing his alarmed gulp and seeing the chair freewheel backwards, you stopped and pushed it towards the table with your thigh and Jungkook burst into laughter.

“You are my lifesaver,” he declared and would have probably burst into a solo round of applause if the waiter hadn’t distracted him by bringing the appetizers.

“Is he going to be able to perform like this?” you asked, sitting back down. You glanced at Jungkook and noticed his preoccupation with the shrimp on the plate in front of him. “He probably doesn’t even realize where he is.”

“We still have a few hours,” Taehyung replied. “He’ll be fine.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched the boy next to you indulge on everything that was on the table at the moment – it seemed like he would have gladly tried to take a bite out of the glass bottle of champagne, too, that’s how little attention he was paying to the things he was putting into his mouth – and you tried to find the reason why he decided to get high before a show that his parents were going to attend.

But then, perhaps, that was precisely it. This was a concert like none he’s done before in more ways than one: not only was it off-campus but it was also going to be the first time that his parents would see him sing live. So, however ridiculous it was to say this about someone as confident as Jungkook, but he must have been nervous.

“Maybe it’d be a good idea for him to—” you started to say but half of a breadstick was shoved at your face before you could finish.

“Try this!” Jungkook insisted, waiting eagerly for you to open your mouth as if he was going to feed you ambrosia itself. “It’s brilliant.”

Worried about what he would do if you refused, you parted your lips and allowed him to feed you the breadstick. He waited patiently while you chewed and then smiled proudly when you gave him a nod and a weak smile.

“I could have a hundred of them,” he announced then and, judging from the dedicated glint in his eye, he was planning to do just that.

“Is that normal?” you asked his members again, nodding your head towards Jungkook as he stuffed his face with breadsticks.

“What, his love for bread?” Hoseok replied this time, snickering. “Surprisingly, yeah. It becomes more prominent when he’s high. He once ate an entire loaf in one sitting.”

The other boys burst into giggles – thus, reminding you that they weren’t sober, either – and you exhaled slowly, realizing now that this dinner was going to be a particularly long one.

You’d hoped that by the end of your main course Jungkook would be back to his normal self, but that was not the case at all. In fact, his high didn’t wear off even when you returned to the venue after the dinner.

With less than an hour left to the show, Jungkook was dozing off backstage, harmonizing under his breath and dropping the microphone in shock when you entered, closing the door a little too loudly for his overly-sensitive ears.

“Oh!” he exclaimed matter-of-factly before leaning down to pick the microphone up, all while ignoring the scolding of audio engineers. “You’re right on time—listen to this.”

You stopped a few steps away from him and watched as Jungkook put his microphone to his lips before he opened his mouth to grunt and release other low, gruff sounds, coming from somewhere deep in his throat, that made him sound like a cat, choking on a ball of fur.

He looked immensely pleased with himself when he finished the impromptu concerto. Raising his eyebrows, he awaited your reaction.

“That’s good,” you said, mentally calculating if there was enough time left to push him into a cold shower. “You’re all set for your audition to join an a cappella group.”

“An a capp—no, I’m not joining—wait, do you think I should?” he asked, sounding terrifyingly genuine.

You heard the door open and close behind you, but Jungkook leaped forwards before you could turn around and embrace the distraction.

“Hey, Yoongi, listen to this—!” Jungkook said and was about to repeat his previous demonstration, but you decided this was enough.

Pulling on the sleeve of his shirt, you cut him off and, ignoring his surprised yelp, you dragged him towards the communal bathroom on the other end of the changing room.

“Hey!” Yoongi called out after you. “Where are you taking him? The show’s in forty-five minutes!”

“He needs a cold shower,” you called back, not bothering to stop or turn around, “or he will perform his rendition of a hairball being stuck in his throat on stage.”

Yoongi didn’t question you further – he’d regained enough of his rationality to understand why that’d be a bad way to start the show – and, a second later, you were already pushing Jungkook into the shower stall, still fully dressed. He hadn’t changed into his stage clothes yet, so you didn’t think it mattered.

“Are we taking a shower together?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows. “Because I’d prefer to be undressed for that.”

You turned the shower on. A long moment of silence passed after the water hit Jungkook.

“Ah, shit!” he finally exclaimed, gasping and jumping away from the stream of the ice cold water that had already soaked him. His reaction was, clearly, still delayed.

Regardless, Jungkook gave you a look full of terror and disbelief – as if you’d thrown him to the wolves and he only realized that after half of his leg got chewed off.

“Why are—” he tried to ask but you cut him off, getting the front of your own clothes splashed with water as you redirected the barely motioning shower head towards him.

“Because you’re high out of your mind,” you replied, “and if you don’t want to get disowned, you need to sober up as quickly as possible.”

“How is this—my head is going to freeze!” he complained, trying to bolt but only slamming his body into yours – and, thus, making you even more wet – as you blocked his exit. “Please. I’m cold.”

“Good,” you replied – so honest, it was almost ruthless. “That should speed up the process.”

He whined for the next few minutes – you were convinced that, after the first minute, his whining turned into a habit because, at that point, he already looked half-asleep – but he didn’t try to run away, which was a blessing, because if he came to his senses, he could overpower you and escape with relative ease.

However, escaping wasn’t on his mind and Jungkook endured the cold shower with newfound determination. You chose to take it as a sign that he was now sober enough to recognize the danger of going to perform while he was so high, he wouldn’t have been able to recognize himself in the mirror.

He climbed out of the shower shaking, somewhat dizzy, but aware of his surroundings.

“I’ll get you a towel,” you said after you’d helped him take his black t-shirt off – it basically rolled off his damp skin, really –  but Jungkook pulled you back by squeezing your hand.

“T-thank you-uh,” he said, his lower lip trembling from the cold.

The gesture surprised you – you thought he’d sober up, but you didn’t think he’d appreciate that – and you felt yourself respond to him with a nod and a smile.

“I’ll be right back,” you promised again.

Most surprisingly, the shower seemed to work. To be fair, Jungkook still giggled when he walked into the side of the door on his way out of the bathroom, but he could actually sing now – as soon as he stopped shivering, that is – and, with five minutes until the start of the show, he looked much more ready for the performance ahead.

“Thank you,” a voice said to you as you lingered by the door of the changing room, toying with the end of the extra shirt that you’d borrowed from Jungkook. You turned around to see Yoongi. “Most people would have just left him to deal with it on his own.”

You were quick to realize that Yoongi was, obviously, thanking you for taking Jungkook off his hands.

“He’s capable of a lot of things,” you replied, “but cleaning up his own mess isn’t one of them.”

That got him to chuckle. “Yeah. I honestly thought he’d be fine. It’s not the first time we went for a smoke before a show. To ease the nerves, you know?”

You didn’t know. Somehow, you’d assumed, the members of Parental Advisory never felt nervous.

“Yeah, uh, I get it,” you said, realizing how naïve that belief had been. “He sort of overdid it this time, though.”

“Sort of,” Yoongi repeated, “that’s one way to put it.”

“Would it make me sound masochistic if I said I’d seen him worse?” you asked, only half joking.

“No,” he replied, “but the fact that you stayed with him in spite of it, kind of would.”

He gave you an apologetic smile but you responded with an understanding nod. 

There was nothing to get upset about: Jungkook had wreaked havoc on your life, that was true -- but only because you’d let him. You could have walked away if you felt like you’d had too much, but you chose to stay.

“Yeah,” you started to say after inhaling deeply enough to fill up both of your lungs. “Well, he’s—”

“He loves you,” Yoongi said. “He probably thinks that’s enough to make up for the times he fucks up.”

You lowered your head, admitting this to him and to yourself, “sometimes that is enough.”

Rationally, the fact that Jungkook loved you probably wasn’t supposed to be enough, but, to you, it was. And you were the one who made the decisions for your life; you were the one who decided if you were treated fairly or not. 

And tonight felt fair.

Tonight felt like you were helping someone out; someone who didn’t have enough strength – or, simply, pride – to even ask for help.

“His parents are in the audience tonight,” you said, voicing the reason why you understood Jungkook’s thought process that had lead to him, getting high right before the show. “He’s probably ten times more nervous than usually.”

Yoongi nodded. “Yeah, but he’ll do great. He’ll be fine now.”

“The shower should have—”

“Because you’re here,” he added unexpectedly. “He would have probably found a way out of this even if you weren’t here – no offense – because he’d had plenty of practice coming out of fires he’d set himself. He’d come out of them burned and in pain, of course, but, at least, he’d survive. And now... with you being here, he might come out of this completely unscathed.”

You thought about his words, looking away from him and, thus, giving Yoongi the permission to excuse himself and join the rest of his bandmates by the side of the stage as they prepared to start the show.

Then, finally, choosing not to fight the small smile that had successfully made it to your lips, you exited the changing room, too, and joined Jungkook’s parents in the venue. 

Apparently they’d been back here for a while and Jungkook’s mother had an ambiguous smile on her lips when she saw you approach their seats. You were taken aback by the similarity between the expression on her face right now, and the look on Yoongi’s face when he told you that Jungkook loved you. 

Too surprised to ask how long they’ve been back, you chose to remain quiet as you took a seat next to Jungkook’s mother, and waited for the show to start.

Parental Advisory performed in the same breathtaking manner as they did back on your campus – they’d captivated the attention of everyone here before the first song even ended – and you could not stop yourself from cheering along with everyone else.

You could distinctly recall yourself in a contrasting position just a little while ago – back when Inna had dragged you to the Parental Advisory gig, right before you went to their after-party and talked to Jungkook for the first time in seven years. 

Back then, you couldn’t let go of your prejudice and did not think it was fair for the group to have a following this large. They weren’t anything exceptional, after all. But, even so, you could remember the awe you felt when you watched Jungkook on stage.

He was in his element. They all were.

You still thought the music they performed may not have been extraordinary, but the members of the group had something inside of them – something that helped them connect with their audience. Something that made their performances a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

And every time Jungkook looked at your box – you weren’t sure if he could distinguish your and his parents’ figures – you realized that your preliminary opinion about him had been correct: he was arrogant and very full of himself.

But Inna was right, too – from the way he got every single person, even the security staff, immersed in the band’s performance, he had every right to be arrogant.

You kept looking back to Jungkook’s father, anticipating a comment from him and even biting your lip to resist the urge to smile after you involuntarily allowed yourself to imagine the way his voice would sound when he admitted that he’d been wrong and that, clearly, Jungkook had already discovered his place in life.

But his father remained quiet all throughout the concert and, perhaps, that was enough. He hadn’t made a single negative comment – and that alone said plenty. 

However, surprising you, the biggest compliment from Jungkook’s father came as soon as the performance ended, and Jungkook returned backstage.

His eyes were still red, but his entire body was glowing from the post-show high, so you’d have never guessed the real cause of the redness on his face. He enveloped you in a hug as soon as he saw you, nearly suffocating you with the strength of his grip, and leaned over to press a quick kiss to his mother’s cheek.

That was when his father spoke up and offered to drive you both home.

You didn’t find it unusual at first – they had a car, why wouldn’t they offer to drive you home? – but Jungkook went stiff in your arms and, when he pulled away, you suddenly understood why the offer was unexpected.

Jungkook’s father had never driven his son anywhere, not unless it was for the sake of the company. Making it worse, you were probably correct to assume that, ever since Jungkook moved out of his parents’ house years ago, his father’s urge to drive his son anywhere had disappeared completely, regardless of the motives behind this drive.

“Uh,” it took Jungkook a minute to gather his words. “Thanks, dad.”

That wasn’t something he thought he’d get to say when he first woke up this morning.

His father nodded and reached into the pocket of his jacket for the car keys when Jungkook suddenly continued.

“But, actually, we thought of staying behind to get some drinks. To, uh, celebrate the successful performance, you know?” he said, threading carefully and holding onto your waist tighter. Even though you’d already pulled away from the hug, Jungkook did not let you take one step away from him.

His father’s face grew clouded. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

He asked it in a very official tone, as if he was making a business deal – almost wondering if merging with a different company was a wise choice.

“Yeah. It’s nothing big,” Jungkook said, caressing your shoulder to bring attention to the fact that you were standing next to him and his father had no reason to stare him down like that, “I won’t be there alone.”

“Did you even ask her if she wanted to come?”

The question – that sounded so natural coming from his father’s lips – forced him to freeze, just like that Monday morning, outside of your dormitory.

A loaded moment had to pass before Jungkook found himself again but, by that time, you’d already realized you had to interfere.

“I don’t mind,” you said, not wanting someone else to do the speaking for you when you were, technically, a part of the conversation. “I’d love to share a toast with the guys.”

You tried to substantiate your words with a convincing smile but, really, you didn’t know why you paid any attention to your facial expression at all – you weren’t lying.

Aside from Jungkook getting into a fight with Brock at the last Parental Advisory party, you didn’t have a terrible time there, and you figured that, perhaps, your bias against partying with the band members had been unfounded. Either way, you were genuinely ready to give it a second chance, especially when your body was still abuzz with the electricity from the show.

But Jungkook’s parents watched the two of you for another moment, looking very uncertain. You hadn’t heard them talk about you all of those years ago, and yet the shadows of their voices seemed to echo in your mind, expressing their concern about Jungkook being too big of an influence on you and, eventually, dragging you off the rails along with him.

Finally, a very defeated, “very well” sounded from his father’s lips as he gave you both a nod and turned around towards the exit, waiting for his wife.

“You were wonderful,” Jungkook’s mother whispered to him, giving you a wink and then bringing her hand over her son’s cheek, “thank you for inviting us.”

“Thank you for coming,” Jungkook said and, when his parents left, he turned to you and repeated his previous words with a deep exhale of relief, “thank you. For coming, for staying, for—”

You could feel the tension pulsing in his blood as he still hadn’t let you go and, wanting nothing more than to ease his anxiety, you cut him off with a kiss. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you allowed him to pull you into his arms as he held onto you as if you really were his lifesaver as he’d called you before.

“You’re welcome,” you said when you pulled away, taking his breath with you.

keep reading | masterlist

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

So, wait, toes Remus know that Virgil is a dragon too?? if he does, did Virgil tell him or did he just figure it out?

It wasn’t too long after their escape from the prison complex that Remus got irritated.

He didn’t regret dragging the strange assassin along — after all, Remus probably wouldn't have been able to escape without him — but he was getting more and more frustrated with his lack of response to...well, anything.

Remus has attempted more than once to scare and/or gross the stranger out with diatribes of gore and violence, but that hasn't phased him at all. Really, Remus thinks he probably should have expected that response from a dark-elven warrior, but it was a little jarring to have his usual monologues accepted with little more than a cursory glare. It didn't help that he had to speak to the soldier in the goblin language, which neither of them knew well enough to share many complex ideas.

Then, there were his rages. Remus wasn't really himself in that state, and he knew he was quite the sight to those who had never heard of a barbarian. He's pretty sure that if he had some foggy awareness of the assassin being disgusted or even mildly intrigued by his berserk mode, he would have remembered them. As it stands, nothing.

Then, there was his trump card: The first time Remus let out his true form and went berserk on a few guards, the assassin barely even noticed the difference. Remus dismissed it at the time, assuming they had just been busy doing their thing and hadn’t seen him do it. But, as they were sneaking away from the castle spires the next day and he had to dispose of some noble-looking witnesses, Remus definitely saw the assassin look at his wings.

Still he made absolutely no reaction! He doesn’t seem to react to much of anything, unless he’s being mad at Remus for yelling too loud or missing a swing. Admittedly, being able to spark annoyance in the stuck-up soldier is a little fun, but even his moments of anger are few and far between.

This is the first and only time someone has seen Remus’s kick-ass undead angel wings and not had a damn thing to say about it, and Remus can honestly say he hates it.

So, now that they’re finally outside of the Colony walls (and Remus doesn’t have to worry about the assassin chewing him out for making a scene,) Remus smirks deviously at the unsuspecting drow.

“Hey! Watch this,” Remus shouts, then closes his eyes to focus.

He reaches deep inside himself to connect with that boiling mass of discordant energy — a frothing core of divine light that’s spoiling rotten and necrotic, burning away the mold, healing, and then spoiling again, over and over with each beat of his two hearts. As he’s practiced ever since he was a child, Remus grabs that energy and pulls it out, dismissing a weight in his stomach that he hardly notices until it's time to let go.

The instinctual protective glamor that hides his true form dissolves in the firelight of his true essence, as bone-like angel wings, void-like eyes, and a tidal wave of smoke pour out of Remus like air from a popped balloon. A sickly green glow outlines his irises, his scars, and emblazons the emblem of a sword over his chest. He can feel it as the energy unfurls, how the world spins and sears into focus, how his senses grow sharp and breathing is suddenly so much easier than it’s ever been before. This is what he truly is, how he really looks, and it is a figure that strikes fear and awe in every creature who has the misfortune of seeing it.

All except one. Apparently.

The assassin simply stares at Remus, stone-still as Remus’s whole fucked up magical girl cutscene plays out point-blank in front of him. The fear-inducing necrotic gas rolls past the assassin's feet and into his lungs, but nothing happens. A few seconds pass, and he still hasn’t moved, but he’s clearly not gone into shock or anything of the kind.

Eventually, the assassin gets the impression that Remus is expecting a response. So, he cocks his hip out to one side and folds his arms, mimicking the facial expression that he’s gathered humans make when they’re confused: a pointed eyebrow raise.

(Given his usual glowering expression, it comes across more like sass.)

The minute passes, and though Remus feels the smoke dissipate and his eyes and scars return to normal with a sinking feeling in his gut, the wings remain. Instead of dismissing them, Remus throws his arms out wide with a growl,

“Seriously? That’s it? You’re not scared!”

“Scared?” The assassin parrots lowly.

A wide smile stretches across his lightly-freckled face. In the space of a blink he’s behind Remus, gently peeling the barbarian’s tattered shirt away to get a better look at the base of his wings.

He lays one ice-cold hand against the divot between them, touching him clinically, like he’s trying to figure out how solid Remus's wings are. His hand smooths gently across the stump where flesh gives way to semi-transparent bone before Remus's brain catches up. He shrieks and jumps away from him,

“What the shit are you doing?!” Remus squeaks, eyes wide as saucers. He would be more embarrassed by how absolutely unthreatening he sounds right now if he didn’t still feel the shape of that hand on him like a brand.

(He decides that this is more because of the supernatural nature of his wings, and not because Remus hasn't been touched that carefully by another person since he was like eleven. He doesn’t have time to unpack that feeling whatsoever.)

“You told me to look.” The assassin teases, openly laughing at Remus’s expense.

Then, — and Remus could swear he’s doing it slowly just to make sure Remus sees him — the soldier takes a deep exhale, and his purple eye flashes a soft glow. Suddenly, his body evaporates until he is a cloud of shadowy smoke. This smoke quickly blends in with the surrounding darkness of the cavern, and before Remus can get a word in edgewise, the assassin has re-solidified and is poking his back again.

“StoOOP TOuching me!” Remus yelps and spins around to face him, face red as blood and hands up in a defensive position, “Since when could you do that?!”

The assassin rolls his eyes at this, his hands falling to his sides. Now he takes a moment to think, before reaching down to untie his dagger belt and pull his tunic loose.

“What are you doing?” Remus protests louder, covering his eyes with his hands.

The assassin doesn’t respond.

Though he’s reciting curses in his head and trying very hard to respect this stranger’s privacy, Remus’s curiosity quickly gets the better of him.

He peeks out between his fingers to find the soldier shirtless, his white hair parted and pulled over his shoulders. He looks up at Remus with a completely unimpressed stare.

The assassin reaches out to grab one of Remus’s hands, then turns to show Remus his back.

Remus stares for a moment, eyes tracing the thin, ragged lines of a latticework of scars. They stretch across and around the assassin’s back, some older and some deeper. Most seem to have been inflicted by animals or monsters rather than weapons.

Remus feels no sense of pity at the display — he’s got his own patchwork of scars and his own complicated relationship to them, but over all he sees them more as a mark of survival, as stories to tell. But, he is definitely curious, and his mile-a-minute brain is already spinning outrageous tales to match each and every mark.

Then the assassin guides his hand up towards the top of his back, just alongside his spine. The skin there feels leathery, and significantly warmer than the skin of the elf’s hand, though the heat seems to be emanating from someplace lower on his spine. It’s also slightly off-color, a bit lighter than the skin around it. Whatever this is, this scar is old.

Remus traces the outline of it up, then off to the side as it tapers to a thin line between his shoulder and the base of his neck. The assassin’s ears twitch at the gesture, and Remus’s hand flinches away.

He turns to look at Remus over his shoulder, his neutral grimace returned.

“We are the same. Shadow and wings. You are kitrye'maelthra, right?”

“I don’t know what that is.” Remus frowns, always frustrated when the assassin sneaks an elven word or two into their rare conversations,

“I’m not super good at reading energies, but you don’t feel like an angel… You have wings??”

“No.” He frowns, his gaze becoming soft and distant, “Not anymore.”

“Oh.” Remus sighs, now reeling at the possibilities.

What sort of dark elf grows wings, and how can they be removed? He winces at the phantom pain to his own wings as he parcels through every guess. Did a monster tear them off? The scar was so smooth, it seemed more like they had been burned away with acid. Did he fall into the pit of a living ooze, or maybe it was a punishment from some cruel cultist—

“Yours are broken.” The assassin pries, still staring at him while Remus zoned out.

“Broken? No they're not!”

“You have no skin.” The assassin remarks, like that should have been obvious, “And you look like a ghost.”

“Wait, skin? Like a bat?” Remus laughs, imagining it. He shakes his head, “I’m not supposed to have skin! —Well, I mean, I am, but also feathers. Y’know, like a bird?”

“Bird?” The assassin repeats, like he doesn’t understand the word. He probably doesn’t, goddamn Underdark.

“...Ehh, forget about it. I’ll show you one when we get up there.” Remus shakes his head.

The assassin pulls his tunic back up and re-ties it. While he waits, a sudden thought knocks Remus out of his gruesome imaginings.

He thinks he probably shouldn’t ask, but it takes him all of three seconds to snap and say it anyway,

“Hey,” Remus hums offhandedly, like he’s not extremely invested in knowing the answer, “If you could ‘go ghost’ or whatever this whole time, why didn’t you just poof yourself out of that cell?”

(“And why did you stay to help me?” Remus refuses to add, because he is not that attached to his little stray-criminal monsterboy, goddamnit. He refuses.)

The assassin doesn’t answer or turn back to him, simply staring off in the direction of their path.

Remus huffs and rolls his eyes,

“Fine, damn, keep your secrets. Bet you just can’t hold it that long~”

“Don’t xhandal me, lotha mal'dhalaruk. Usstan orn da'urzotreth dosst et'zarreth.”

“Again, I do not know what the fuck that is.”

[inawickedlittletown]

Survivors - Buddie meta

Words: 3,112

I thought a lot about 4x14 since watching it on Monday and mostly buddie, and on my re-watch I had a lot of thoughts and since I can’t seem to help myself here we are again. And fair warning, this is very long. 

I think it’s fair to say that Buck is someone that cares a lot. I think it’s fair to say that his reaction to Eddie being shot would be the same if anyone else in the 118 was shot. That said, yes, the way that Buck freezes and the shock that sets in with him is jarring for a character that is always about the action and always about doing something. But then, he does finally get his bearings after being knocked down to safety and after holding eye contact with Eddie as Eddie is bleeding out on the ground, and Buck is the only one present on the scene to get to Eddie. Buck is the only one trying to get to the injured person despite the fact that there are plenty of other first responders around. 

This moment is a lot, and I think it does so much to reiterate and highlight the importance of Eddie in Buck’s life and the love that is felt between them. Up to this point, we cannot call that romantic love — or at least, acknowledged romantic love — but Buck does love Eddie. And vice versa. 

We see Eddie’s love shine through in the moments while they’re heading to the hospital and Eddie comes to and his concern isn’t for himself, but Buck. Eddie has been shot, and he’s well aware of that, and yet it is Buck who he worries about. He has to be sure that Buck is alright. And, well, Buck isn’t. He might be physically alright, but when he’s asked if he’s okay as Eddie is being taken into the hospital, he just says “no” and that is very clear to the audience in that moment and for the rest of the episode. 

The next time that we see Buck, he is still a mess and he’s stepping out of the hospital. He is literally shaking and he is so out of it and in a state of shock that he’s ignored phone calls not just from Taylor, but from Maddie, and likely anyone else that tried to contact him. I don’t want to spend too much time on Taylor here, but I do want to point out that Buck is at first suspicious of why she is present and barely acknowledges that she was worried about him and he also just doesn’t want to allow her to help him. 

Buck’s entire mind is on Eddie and on Chris and we’re aware from Chim’s call with Maddie that the rest of the team are at the hospital as well, and that enough time has passed that it’s likely Eddie’s grandmother and aunt would have heard about what happened, that Carla would have heard, and yet Buck feels like he’s the one of that needs to talk to Chris and no one refutes that. When Albert asks where Buck is later, Chim even says: “he’s got a harder job tonight” because they all know that it is absolutely Buck’s place to be the one to speak to Christopher.  

From the moment that Buck was aware of Christopher’s existence, he’s been involved. Christopher bonded Buck and Eddie in a way perhaps because of how much Buck loves kids, but certainly because Buck admired Eddie as a parent and Eddie’s devotion to being a dad. I think Buck similarly endeared himself to Eddie by making it possible for Eddie to get the help that he needed — namely Carla. But over the past few seasons we’ve seen the Buck and Chris relationship grow. Buck has been acting like another parent for a while and I think this season really took it over the top ever since Chris ran away from home and went straight to Buck. Making Buck his safe space over anyone else. 

Out of the entire episode, the hardest scene to watch for emotional reasons is Buck explaining to Chris that his father is hurt. Between the way that Chris asks questions to understand what happened, to the way that Buck just can’t keep it together. And then Bobby’s text comes in and Buck really cannot hold it in, to know that actually Eddie will be okay. The rollercoaster of emotions is so well acted, so well written, and there is no way to not feel that pain while watching it. 

This whole scene reads like a parent talking to their child about something difficult. It reads like a parent being aware of their own pain and still facing their kid because that’s important and necessary and as a parent it isn’t something that can be ignored. We can go further and parallel the scene to almost any important and emotional conversation between Eddie and Christopher, but especially what we got when Shannon died.It also frames Buck as family and as important in the lives of both Christopher and Eddie. It is difficult then to think about Buck’s place in all of this as only a best friend. As only a work partner. This is glaringly so when we think about Ana. (Also, we have to remember that Buck during all of this knows nothing about Eddie changing his will).

The episode makes it clear where Ana is this entire time because the few times we see her, she’s at the hospital with Eddie. As his girlfriend it makes sense for her to be there for him and yet that is all we are given when instead it would only make sense to use Eddie’s injury as a way to further and strengthen Ana and Eddie’s relationship. And from the last we saw of Ana, she clearly gets on with Christopher, enough that it would have made sense for Ana to step up and offer to care for Chris. It isn’t something that happens. But I think that their relationship would have shown as stronger and as more meaningful in the eyes of the viewer if we’d seen more of them together and certainly if we had seen Ana even just offer to look after Chris. 

Instead, it is Buck that sleeps on Eddie’s couch so he can be there for Christopher even though there are other options such as Carla. It is Buck that picks up the slack of looking after Christopher as worried as Buck is about Eddie and as worried as Buck is about everyone else in light of the firefighters being targets. The way that Buck puts Christopher first is so parental. It is something that Eddie has noticed long before this all the way back in S3 and clearly Buck doesn’t disappoint. And Buck doesn’t do it all alone, because obviously he has work and Carla is around, but he is going out of his way to be there for Christopher. 

The scenes are bittersweet in that there is a slight domestic/parental element to them, but then also the thrumming knowing that this is only happening because Eddie isn’t around. And yet Christopher is adaptable. It gets to the point where he is even joking around and teasing Buck in a very similar way that he does with Eddie. 

I find Buck’s journey through the episode interesting. One of the things about Buck is that he believes he is alone. He knows he has people, but he also realizes that he is alone, and that as much he means something to his team, to his sister, even to his parents, Buck also knows that everyone else has other people. During the sequence in which Bobby explains how things are going to change for them, we see flashes of scenes of the 118 getting ready to go into work with their new bulletproof vests and we see Hen with Karen, we see Chim with Maddie, and we see Bobby with Athena. Buck is on his own. 

Is it because Buck’s partner would naturally be Eddie? Or because Taylor and Buck just aren’t on that level (I mean at this point we’re pre-kiss). Either way, we get Buck on his own all while Bobby voice-overs how difficult this time will be on their family/loved ones who already see the job as risky and now it suddenly comes with possible sniper shots too. So is it a wonder that Buck, who already thinks much less of himself, would want to place more risk on himself than anyone else? Not to mention that there is definitely an element of survivor’s guilt at play. Buck was standing right there on that street with Eddie. Easily, it could have been him that was shot except that dressed as a civilian made him less of a target. 

Bobby tells him that he made himself a target deliberately and Buck has an answer. He can’t handle anyone else being hurt and that shows us the impact that Eddie being hurt has on Buck, the way that emotionally, Buck could not handle much more turmoil. 

About Eddie, Buck says, “I was just the guy standing there when it happened who couldn’t do anything to protect him.” And it is simply amazing how much that statement says about Buck’s state of mind. Add in Oliver Stark’s acting and we get to see so much of Buck’s love for the whole team, for Eddie. This moment comes after Buck’s scene with Carla presumably before he went to work, and in that scene Carla expresses her concern for Buck’s well being, but Buck brushes that off and I think it’s yet another example of Buck’s state of mind in that he doesn’t want to see himself as important, as necessary, as someone that would be missed if they were gone. 

We see Taylor again and I do want to say that I appreciate the role Taylor has played in this episode. Her first appearance has her worried about Buck and caring about that more than possibly getting a scoop for work — yet another instance of showing how much Taylor has changed from S2. Her worry then, and the way that she offers to help Buck continues to translate into her second scene in the episode where she’s also upset at Buck for the crane incident and the danger he placed himself in. I’ve loved the development of Buck and Taylor’s friendship as well as the many moments that we’ve gotten that show Taylor as a different person. The last few episodes have slowly hinted at them as a couple and I cannot be mad at how this was developed or how Taylor is very clearly unsure about how things might go. She is caught up in the moment and after she kisses him she even apologizes. 

Buck says they should talk about it, but Taylor decides to leave. Buck actually goes to say “wait” or to stop her and Taylor, as we learn later, expected or hoped for Buck to chase after her, but Eddie has excellent timing and has woken up. And Ana calls Buck at once. 

I’m curious about when Buck got Ana’s number and saved it on his phone. I’m curious about how Ana got Buck’s number. Before this, we haven’t seen them interact at all and unless Eddie being hurt was the first time they even met, who called Ana to tell her about Eddie? 

Either way, Ana calls him and Buck goes to Eddie. It’s a choice that Buck makes and I don’t think Buck even sees it as a choice. And from the way that Taylor mentions Buck not going after her, I just have to wonder about how Buck made it out of his apartment without running into Taylor on the way to his car to get to the hospital. From the way he was running, we know he didn’t wait to get over there. I also do have to wonder about Ana calling Buck and why she felt that he would need to be informed about Eddie being awake at once. Obviously there’s Christopher to consider, but Ana could have also called Carla. This feels like Ana knowing who she needed to defer to. 

Buck arrives and Ana is all smiles, but she steps aside so Buck and Eddie can see each other. (Me with my shipper goggles on: foreshadowing?) And then, the next thing we see if Eddie having a facetime with Christopher through Buck’s phone and Ana isn’t there? Did she step out to give them some time with the kid? Ana’s place in all of this just dwindles and dwindles and I’ll admit I never liked Ana...but that’s mostly because I was never given a reason to like her. Maybe I just feel ambivalent. 

Eddie asks Buck about how Chris is doing and Buck admits that actually between him and Christopher, it is Buck that is having a harder time. He admits that he lost it when he was telling Christopher and Buck is ashamed of it, of not being able to put away his emotions to focus on Chris. Eddie reassures him: “You were there for him when I couldn’t be. That’s what matters.”

Buck responds with: “Still, it might have been better for him if I was the one that got shot.” And that has been Buck’s state of mind this entire episode. That is what he’s been feeling. But no matter how many times Buck has been asked how he’s doing or been shown that others are worried about him, has he brought that up. It is only to Eddie that he can admit it.

The scene ends and Eddie is left thinking. He’s left considering what Buck’s said, but he’s also considering how he views Buck and how to best make Buck believe that actually he’s not expendable. Not to him or to Christopher or even to the rest of the 118. 

We get to the third Buck and Taylor scene and the first thing that is apparent is that Buck has not reached out to Taylor since the kiss. He hasn’t chased her. In fact, he didn’t expect to see her at his door. And it has been days since. This shows us that Buck while interested in Taylor, isn’t that invested. Taylor on the other hand is. Buck explains himself by saying that he’s done feeling like he isn’t enough and I like that self-confidence and the way that Buck makes it clear that he can’t be the one chasing anyone. 

To bring this back to Buddie, I do wonder if Buck saying this to Taylor isn’t also a statement about where Buck stands in general and how Buck is not going to be the one that pines or that waits for anyone. Not just Taylor, but Eddie. This could be subtle foreshadowing, aided of course by the next Buck and Eddie scene. 

Eddie isn’t someone that talks about how he feels. He isn’t someone that needs to express himself that way and we know this about him which makes this scene all the more poignant. And you can feel how Eddie isn’t too sure of himself when he asks Buck to talk. Not to mention that admitting to going through the trouble of changing his will so that Buck could be Chris’ guardian clearly isn’t something Eddie ever wanted to bring up or mention to Buck seeing as it’s been in his will for about a year. 

Eddie is just displaying such a level of awareness for his understanding of who would be best for Christopher, for the realization that no one else in his life cares for Christopher’s well being like Buck does. And they talk about Eddie’s other family and Eddie says my favorite line of the episode, “No one will ever fight for my son as hard as you. That is what I want for him.” Other than “You act like you’re expendable...but you’re wrong.” 

Eddie changed his will, not for Buck, but for Christopher. It is placing all his trust in Buck and making him in many ways the most important person in his life other than his son. But telling Buck is something that Eddie does for Buck. He does it so that Buck knows how highly Eddie views/values him and so that perhaps Buck begins to see himself that way too and so he can value his life if not for himself, but then also because it actually could affect Christopher and Eddie as well. It does make me wonder if during Eddie’s time at the hospital, he heard about Buck and the crane. 

There’s a welcome home party waiting for Eddie at home and Buck is the one to take him to it. The ending sequence is interesting in that everyone is split up by family. Unlike last season where we had everyone together at the end, this time everyone is with their family. In another moment that could have been used to cement Ana and Eddie, it is Buck that picks Eddie up from the hospital and Buck that takes him to the party. For some reason Taylor is there and I feel like that’s more about being able to put her somewhere, but we could have done without her. I wonder if Eddie already knows that Buck and Taylor are a thing by that point. And I wonder what Chris thinks of her. 

All in all, this was a fantastic episode. One of the best of the season and such a strong finale. And I don’t think it gives us any concrete information on if the show is going to actually do Buddie, but it leaves some sprinkling of things that make it a possibility. Most of that is to do with how little development we get out of Ana in any way or form as well as the display of importance that Eddie places on Buck as well as Buck’s emotions when it comes to Eddie being injured. I think we leave the episode on a high note and with a lot of hope that actually maybe something could happen. 

I don’t think I will ever be one of those people that are more than 50% sure it might happen, but this episode does make me question if that percentage shouldn’t be higher. It also cements my other thoughts on Buddie and I will reiterate it again because it’s so important, as it stands we are not in any place to call Buddie queerbaiting. We are, however, possibly in the midst of a slow burn. 

-

Tagging: @vivalabandoms @sevensoulmates @greenasher @whenyougoquiet-ihatemyself @seylaaurora @scifitheatre1995 @yramesoruniverse @laura2594-me @selfiethechaosfan @lilyemrys 

[anagentinwriting]

Lifeline - Part 3

Summary: (First Responders!AU) Moving to Los Angeles and living with your brother, Thor, was never part of your plan nor was being a 9-1-1 dispatcher, but plans change when you are faced with your own emergencies. In your case, it was leaving behind a relationship that wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. Will this be the fresh start you were hoping for or will your past find a way to catch up with you?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Odinson!Sister Reader

Word Count: ~2100

Warnings: Mentions of fire

Lifeline Masterlist / Main Masterlist

After much convincing from Carol and Nat the other day, you decided to go to the firehouse to meet this Steve face to face.  It wasn’t unusual for you to stop by the firehouse, but you thought making a batch of your mom’s to die for chocolate chip cookies would give you more of a motive. You didn’t want to go, but it would shut Nat and Carol up for a while. 

Walking into Station 107 Fire and Rescue’s garage, your eyes traveled to the second story loft overlooking the ambulance and the trucks. It was a cozy, warm space that had all the amenities of home. On one side of the loft was the kitchen with barn red walls, modern cabinets, and a huge fridge. On the other side was a living room filled with oversized couches, a flatscreen connected to a gaming system, and a pool table. A dining table sat in the middle separating both spaces in the large open area while exposed wooden beams hung from the ceiling. There was a hallway that led to the two dormitories towards the back of the compound. And below the loft were their lockers, gear storage, showers, and a small gym. 

A guy jumping out of one of the trucks makes you stop in place. He had broad, muscular shoulders and a small waist any girl would want to wrap their arms around. You knew everyone at this firehouse, so you could only suspect this man to be Steve. He shot you a quick glance your way, noticing the ever-growing stubble on his face, before closing the truck door and coming over to you. Nat and Carol were right; he was a good looking fella. He was someone you could’ve easily fallen for, but you didn’t think like that anymore. Hell, back then, you would’ve already had your kid's names picked out without even saying two words to him.

“Hi ma’am, can I help you?” He raised an eyebrow, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Is Thor around?”

“Oh, ah, you didn’t hear,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this--” he ran his hand through his hair, looking everywhere but at you “--but he passed away last week on a call saving a kid.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” you gasped, shaking your head. You covered your hand over your mouth to hide the smile appearing on your face. Steve had no idea who you were, so might as well play a little game.  

“I’m sorry. Afraid not, ma’am,” he sighed. “It was a shock to us all.” 

“Then, what about the baby?” You placed your hand on your stomach. “Am I going to have to do this on my own?” You glanced back up at him, and his eyes went wide, not sure how to answer this.

“A baby?” You covered your hands over your face and let out a fake sob. “I’m sorry, ma’am. He...um...he didn’t die. It’s a thing he wants all of us to say to the girls who come looking for him.”

You uncover your eyes, staring at him for a brief moment until you shake your head at your brother’s orders. “He told you to tell them this? That he died?” 

“Yes?” he said, coming out more like a question than a statement. 

“Poor girls, well not all poor because they should’ve known better,” you sighed, letting out an annoyed breath. “I’m going to have to talk to my asshole brother for this.” 

“Wait...uh...are you YN?”

“Yes. Do I know you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, eyeing him over. 

“Yeah...I mean no...at least not officially, but you helped me like a week or so ago on a call.”

“Sorry, I take like two hundred calls a shift sometimes. It’s hard to remember which one is which sometimes.” You shrugged, trying to not make it come off too obvious that you knew the one he was referring to.

“Right, sorry. It was the call with the electric pool. You told me to use…”

“..the hose and pulled her across,” you finished. “Oh right, right. That must make you Fireman Rogers, then.” You held out your hand, and he shook it with his cleaner hand.

“Please, call me Steve.” You nodded. “It was a great idea you came up with. You’re a real hero.”

“Ahh...thanks. It comes with the territory,” you answered, rubbing your hands together. “We try to save as many as we can, sometimes that doesn’t mean everyone, but we got to try, right.”

“Absolutely,” he nodded, eyeing you over. “Thor went to grab groceries with Val, but you’re more than welcome to wait upstairs in the loft.” He pointed over his shoulder before resting his hands on his belt, making his biceps double in size.

“No, it’s okay. I have to get to work, but I’ll give these to you.” You hand him the container, and he opens it, licking his lips. “Made them yesterday and figured I would drop a container off here since Thor was eyeing them.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled, snapping the lid back on. “They look good.”

“I would try at least one because they go pretty darn fast.”

“I’ll take that into consideration.” He nodded, holding up the container to you. “It was nice meeting you, YN.”

“You too, Steve.” 

“WHOA, YN! Is that you girl,” Sam shouted from the balcony. “What are you doing here?”

“Dropping off some cookies,” you shouted back, covering your hands around your mouth. 

His eyes widened, sprinting to one of the staircases on the side of the loft. He came up behind Steve and yanked the container out of Steve’s hands. Steve narrowed his eyes, watching Sam open it and take a big whiff of them.

“Man, Steve, you don’t know what you just gave up? I ain't sharing these with nobody.” He opened the container, grabbed a cookie out, and took a bite out of it, letting out a satisfied sound. Steve tried to grab one, but Sam shut the lid on his fingers. “Nope!” He shot daggers at Steve, but then he looked back at you with a gap-tooth grin on his face. “Thank you, YN, you’re the best.”

“Sam, you should at least give Steve one, since he has never had them before.”

“I guess you do have a point there.” He pointed his cookie at you, then at Steve before taking another bite, mulling over the idea. “Fine, just one…well half of one.”

Steve slowly reached in and grabbed half of a cookie and took a bite. His eyes shot to you, and he nodded his head. “Wow, these are incredible.” 

“Thanks.” You shot him a small smile. “I should get going, but I will see you, gentlemen, later.” 

“Safe travels, YN,” Sam waved.

“Have a good day at work,” Steve added with a side smirk.

You turned around and started for the door only to see Carol walk in. Upon seeing you, Carol’s mouth twitched into a knowing smirk as her eyes drifted from you and Steve. 

“I see you came and checked out the new transfer,” Carol winked, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 

“No,” you replied. “I dropped off some cookies.”

“Good cover.” she nodded. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, sure, he seems nice, but I am..”

“...not looking for a relationship...yatta yatta yatta,” she finished for you. “It doesn’t have to be a relationship, you know.” 

“Wow. Yup, you went there.”

“Of course I did, besides the way his eyes are traveling over you tells me he would be ready to mingle with you.” 

You peeked over your shoulder, noticing he wasn’t even looking at you. He was still talking to Sam, but his eyes flashed to yours for a brief moment. You turned back to Carol and narrowed your eyes at her.  

“Well look at that, now he knows you're interested.” She teased, making you scoff. “Peace out.” She patted you on the shoulder, walking past you. You watch her retreat past Sam and Steve, grabbing the cookies from Sam, forcing a frown to his features. 

Steve watched you walk out the door and popped the other half of the cookie into his mouth. He dusted the cookie crumbs on his pants, and Sam punched Steve on the bicep. “Ow, man. What was that for?”

“She’s cute, right?” Sam asked, shooting him a wink. 

“Yeah, smart, too,” he nodded, turning around to head up to the loft with Sam. “Does she know everyone in the firehouse?”

“She sure does.” Sam nodded. “YN moved here about three months ago. I know it had something to do with her ex, but I didn’t want to pry. Not my business, but she showed up in a very fragile state.” Sam shook his head at the memory.

“She doesn’t seem that way now,” Steve added, catching the glint in Sam’s eye.

“Yeah, she’s getting better, man. Thor got her a job, and she always comes by bringing cookies when she can. She’s the best.” Sam smirked. “Why are you interested in Thor’s sister?” He nudged Steve in the arm. 

“What...no...I was just curious.”

“Okay, we’ll call it that for now,” Sam grinned, showing off the gap in his teeth. 

____________

Steve sat on the couch re-reading one of his favorites. He glanced up, shaking his head to see Sam and Bucky bickering about who ate all the peanut butter but put the empty container back in the cabinet.

 “The strongest firefighter has returned bearing groceries,” Thor announced, walking up the steps with both his arms full of groceries. “Two trips are for the weak.”

“We get it, Blondie,” Valkyrie grumbled behind him, carrying groceries as well.

“Did you get more peanut butter?” Sam asked, giving Bucky the stink eye.

“Yes,” Val replied. “But, you can only have it if you help put groceries away.”

It was like a silent ritual, gathering around and helping put groceries away. It was also the chance to see what they would be eating for the next week or a few days, depending on how long it would last. Everyone always put in a request to what they wanted, but depending who was on groceries for the week would determine if they were nice enough to pick it up.

“Here’s Steve’s old man food,” Sam smirked, handing him his oatmeal. Steve couldn’t hide his small smirk as he grabbed it and put it in the cupboard. 

“At least I’m not eating your peanut butter.”

“What the hell, Steve?” Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I thought you were on my side for this.”

“I’m not getting in the middle of it,” Steve held up his hands as he continued to put groceries away.

“Thor, again. Why all the Poptarts?” Sam asked, pulling three boxes from one of the bags.

“New flavors, duh!”

“You know Thor loves his Poptarts; honestly, I think they taste like cardboard,” Val remarked, pulling out her energy drinks. 

“No, they don’t! You're being ridiculous. They have the same flavor as the box says. You want a hot fudge sundae without the brain freeze; have a Poptart. Want s'mores, but don’t want the sticky mess; have a Poptart. It’s crazy the amount of flavors they have.” He looked down at a box with a child-like smile on his face.  

“A woman stopped by looking for you,” Steve added, shutting one of the cabinet doors.

“Did you give her the usual charade?” Thor asked, folding the reusable grocery bags. 

“About how you passed away saving a child in the fire?”

“Dude, why are you still going on with that charade? It’s awful,”  Bucky added, only to get ignored. 

“Raging fire, did you say raging fire?” Steve nodded. “Good man,” Thor grinned, pointing his finger at him. “How’d she take it?” 

“She was upset but doesn’t know what to do about the baby now.” Thor’s mouth dropped open. “She’s in the bathroom now.”

“Told you to keep that sword in your pants, pirate angel,” Val grunted, hitting him on the bicep. 

“Ow...well, I’m sorry, Val,” Thor shouted with sarcasm. “What you...you just let her stay? What did she look like?”

Carol came out of the bathroom, and Thor stared at her. “What?” Everyone started laughing, forcing Thor to chuckle along and shake his head. 

“Haha, you guys got me. Hilarious you guys, really.”

“Your sister did stop by though,” Steve said, opening a bag of blueberries.

“Was she okay? What did she say?” Thor rushed out. All the giddiness from his eyes changed to something more serious. 

“Um, nothing serious, dropped off some cookies. There on the counter next to all the other tokens of appreciation and cards we get from people.” Steve pointed over his shoulder. 

“Ooooo, yes.” He rubbed his hands together, going over to grab one, but took the lid off, lifting the empty container upside down. “Really? Come on, she’s my sister. I deserved at least one.” 

“Well, she must like us better,” Sam mentioned, taking a bite of the last cookie.

______

AN: Thanks for reading Part 3. She finally met Steve officially, but will this put a stop to Nat and Carol pestering her? Only time will tell...haha! Any guesses on who is eating Sam’s peanut butter? Do you think it’s Bucky or someone else? And I thought it felt necessary to give a little nod to the first Thor, and have his choice of snack be Poptarts...haha! And finally, the whole layout of this firehouse is very similar to Station 118 firehouse on the show 9-1-1. I just love the whole loft and rustic flair to it, but you can imagine it however you want!!  Any who, thanks for reading, comments always welcome! 

[amindofstone]

in his arms

a/n: I AM IN LOVE WITH JUJUTSU KAISEN!!!! It´s so good and my bby Yuuji has my whole heart! He needs to be loved and protected at all cost. Megumi needs to be loved too and Nobara has to be praised. That girl is a BADASS!!! I love her! This trio is wholesome and their friendship!!! AHHH my heart. I love them! Hopefully they will stay together for a long, long time. (Preferably until they get old and grey.) Who´s yall favorite character and why? Any favorite moments/scenes? (I am in trouble because I wrote this during my linguistic class and only got half of the stuff taught. So please give this some love. Why do I only get good ideas during my studies?! Send help! Regret is really having the best of me right now. Like why did I let my mind convince me to write this down?! Now I have to study that sht on my own!)

Genre: anime imagine/oneshot? Jujutsu Kaisen imagine? Fluff!

Character(s): Itadori Yuuji x you (reader) x Ryomen Sukuna

Spoiler(s):NONE, (Please be aware that I just finished the first season and that I don´t read the manga. Please do not spoil anything if any comments are made. Thank you so much. I really appreciate that.

Warnings: Maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I genuinely apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m really trying to improve. So please be so kind and have mercy)

Words: 2529

Info: Keep in mind that the words in italic are your (the readers) train of thoughts.

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture used is not mine. Credits to: @calclzz (Twitter)!!!

Dating Itadori Yuuji for six months now felt like six months spend in pure bliss, joy and heaven. You were the most happiest since you could remember. He took care of you and loved you. Everyday felt like the first time you went on a date. Every time you thought of him there would be a smile on your lips that would get Nobara to tease the hell out of you until you would hide your face behind your hands because of the growing pink shade of your cheeks. “Sweetie it´s fine. You´re in love with that brainless creature after all. I might not understand how such a sweet living being like you could love him but what I know is that he´s a lucky idiot.”

Yes, you were deeply in love but so was he. He fell for you in the first week he saw you. It started with a simple crush and him always trying to show his best and strongest side whenever you were around. Sometimes he managed to do so but some other times he would end up embarrassing himself. With time passing he slowly understood that you were more than just a simple crush. He was in love with you. He fell for you head over heels. He would always imagine hugging you whenever he saw you hug Panda. He tried his best to not show any traits of jealousy but always failed due to him looking at you with a sad pout. He wanted to make a move and tell you about his feelings but the curse inside of him worried him so he kept a distance. He tried. He tried so much to unlove you but he didn’t knew how, so it came that every time he made a step back regret and sadness would overcome him and he would come back and make two steps towards you. One day he found himself knocking on the door of your dorm asking if you wanted to watch a movie with him.

“For all the times that rain on my parade. And all the clubs you get in using my name. You think you broke my heart, oh girl for goodness sake. You think I´m crying on my own, well I ain´t.”, You were in your dorm cleaning and rearranging some of the furniture’s in your bedroom while singing some of your favorite songs like you always do whenever you were cleaning. You tried to look for a good place to put in your full length mirror you recently purchased while once in a while checking the cake that was put in the oven by you.

“And I didn´t wanna write a song, cause I didn´t want anyone thinking I still care I don´t but, you still hit my phone up. And baby I be movin' on. And I think you should be somethin' I don't wanna hold back, maybe you should know that. My mama…”

Although the song wasn´t really about a beautiful love story or a lovely couple you still loved the song a lot. It was a simple song accompanied by a guitar. You loved it. The first time you heard it you fell in love with it, although you weren´t that of a huge fan of the artist himself you sang the song daily and listened to it as much as you could. The song was played on your phone at least three times in a week and probably sang more than three times a day. When asked what exactly you liked about the song you would stop in your tracks and just reply with a shrug and a sweet smile.

And right now was one of those moments were you sang the song when a pouting pink haired boy started to whine. “Baaabyyyyy, why are you singing such a sad song? It´s basically about someone that got used by their partner for their name. Why would you sing that when your great boyfriend is around?”, you smiled at Yuuji who walked into your room with sad eyes. “Aren´t you happy with me?”, you shook your head and laughed at his question. “No bebe. It´s just that I really like this song. Should I sing something else?”, you asked and made sure the mirror you leaned at your wall next to your closet does not fall. “Yes please!”, when you were sure that the mirror stood properly you turned around and walked to your bed to take your phone. “What are you doing?”, Yuuji asked leaning onto your desk that was occupied by books and notebooks filled by your neat handwriting.

With a chuckle and your phone in your hand you reached for the curious looking boy in your room. Yuuji took your hand in his and let you drag him back on his feet. “Why do I need to stand when I can enjoy your singing sitting?”, the boy asked with eyes filled by endless love. You said nothing and just played the song you choose and made the boy smile.

“I found a love for me. Oh darling, just dive right in and follow my lead. Well, I found a boy, beautiful and sweet. Oh, I never knew you were the someone waiting from me…”, you softly started to sing again while you placed one of your hands around his neck and the other one at his cheek to lovingly caress it. Yuuji leaned on your hand and let out a soft sigh. You were in love. No matter what anyone said about your age and you two being just kids. You didn´t care what people said because you knew what you felt. You knew what he felt and that was enough. You didn´t care when people told you that it is just a phase that is lead by curiosity and the need of attention. You didn´t care and so didn’t he. Why should you two care when your friends were watching your backs and making sure no one talked bad about you. Why should you care when even Gojo Sensei was approving of your relationship and supported you although he still annoyed the hell out of the both of you. But that´s Gojo Sensai after all. You didn´t expect anything else from that man.

“I love you so much.”, you heared Yuuji say before he hid his face on your shoulder. You placed a soft kiss on his neck while you slowly danced around your bedroom. “… Baby, I´m dancing in the dark with you between my arms. Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song. When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath. But you heard it, darling you look perfect tonight….”

The position you were right now made you remember the beginning of the time you started to date him. You remember him never wanting to hug you this long. You remember him saying that he fears he won´t be able to hold up his guard and Sukuna taking over his body and mind. He feared the thought of you seeing him and on top of that having him so close to you. He feared the thought of him hurting you. He was able to take care of the curse and make sure that he doesn´t take over his body and causes trouble. But he did not knew if he was able to do that in your arms since he turned weak whenever you were close to him. And he told you that. He told you his worries and him being scared that the curse will hurt you. But the curse never did.

You always hugged him and held Yuuji close to you. You would sit in between his legs at the river close to the academy and sleep in his arms without a bit of worry. You would drag him to bed with you and keep him over night next to you without a bit of fear towards Sukuna. Sensei Gojo might be supporting your relationship but he always made sure to tell you that you should never forget that there was a curse inside of the boy you called your boyfriend.

“…We are still kids, but we´re so in love. Fighting against all odds, I know we´ll be alright this time. Darling, just hold my hand. Be my man, I´ll ne your girl. I see my future in your eyes….”, you never cared for the curse being inside of him. It was a fact and couldn´t be changed. So you simply lived with it. But it would be a lie when you said that you didn´t saw him once in the cause of yor six months of relationship. In fact, he appeared quite some time out of nowhere when you had Yuuji in your dorm. But that only happened when the boy turned into the lovesick boyfriend he was or when he came seeing you after a mission all tired and sleepy. Every time he would pass out after a tiring mission the chances of Sukuna taking his body over was high. But you learned that when he showed up around you it never was to cause trouble or hurt you. He only did that to take a closer look at you while wondering why his stupid vessel liked you so much. He would come to understand why the stupid creature would always come for a hug or simply just holding hands. And right now, exactly that happened.

“….Baby, I´m dancing in the dark, with you between my arms. Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song.”, you still had your arms around his neck while caressing it. Slow steps were made around the room accompanied by your voice that sang along to another of your favorite songs. Another soft kiss was placed on his neck by you when you loosened one of your arms to take your boyfriends hand in yours. His hand that held you close to him were tenderly placed around your body. The hand you loosened around him took one of his in yours to intertwine them when something made you stop in your tracks for a few seconds. You felt longs nails on your boyfriend’s soft hands that made you realize that he no longer was here but rather pushed aside. “…I have faith in what I see. Now I know I have met an angel in person and he looks perfect. I don´t deserve this, you look perfect tonight.”

“Aren´t we a bit cheeky, my dear dark knight.”, a deep sigh echoed in your ears. “Why did you stop singing human?”, a chuckle left you while the song by now ended but your body were still slowly swaying from side to side. “Cause the song ended, idiot.”, an annoying growl erupted from the throat of your boyfriend. “Who are you calling idiot, human?”, Sukuna didn´t sound mad. In fact it even sounded playful. Should I let go of him? But he´s not letting go himself so hugging him should be fine, right? “Why are you calling me human? Well, I am one but still. Do you know that I have a name? A name like you have it. Something we use to call each other to avoid calling every living being human, you know my dear?”, a soft but still deep chuckle could be heard before he let go of your intertwined hands and got back to hug you. “I´m not stupid you damn creature. I´m even smarter than any of you could ever get.”, he whispered while he nuzzled onto you. “Really? Are you that? Well it seems like you weren´t that smart when you ripped Yuujis heart out of his chest or attacked Sensei Gojo. Remember?”

The words you said made him loosen his grip on you and look you in the eyes. Any normal human being with a bit sense of sanity would have screamed or looked the curse with fear in their eyes but you didn´t. With one hand still around your body that held you close to his he took your face in his other and made you look in his eyes. “I dare you to get rude. Watch out what you say, human.”, he sounded angry and talked in his deep voice that would cause anyone to tear up instantly. But you? You were smiling at him while trying to hold back the need to laugh. It´s so easy to provoke him.“I need to take the cake out of the oven.”, the curse looked at you dumbfounded. Weren´t you scared? How aren´t you scared of him? “You need to what?”, he asked confused. “Let me go for a second and you´ll see.”, the man in front of you raised a brow but let go of you nevertheless to see what you meant. After a quick thanking him, you made your way out of the bedroom into your kitchen to turn the oven off and take the cake out. “You see that´s a cake and the thing it was in is called oven. It bakes there. Now I let it cool.”, you carefully put the cake on your counter and look back at your boyfriend whos body and mind was taken over by the curse. “Now would you mind changing back with Yuuji? I´d like to watch Netflix with him.”, you asked with a tilted head.

A slight smirk grew on Sukunas lips before he came closer. “You could also do that with me. , you shook your head and went to sit on the couch in front of the TV. “I could, but that´s not fun. We wanted to start the third season of Money heist you know. And I need someone to talk to. And that I can´t do with you. You´re not understanding the whole concept of the series and the minds, emotions and the actions of the characters. Therefore it´s a no for me, thank you. Now please change back, your majesty.”

Sukuna came to sit next to you. With an annoyed eye roll he closed his eyes and left to allow the actual owner of the body to take over again. “Hey there. You´re back, baby?”, you said with a tilted head. Yuuji looked around with confusion written all over his face. “Did he come again?”, he asked you with a pout and apologetic eyes. You nodded and took his hands in yours. “It´s fine. He didn´t do anything. He never does. He just comes to annoy us.”, Yuuji nodded and pulled you into his arms and made you sit on his lap. You were straddling him while he buried his face back on your neck. He was happy. He was happy and really appreciated the fact that Sukuna kept his word and never hurt you. He might cause him a lot of other problems and annoy the hell out of him and even drop him when he needed him but at least he didn´t hurt you. He sometimes even could feel how he took care of you when he couldn´t. Yuuji couldn´t say that he was on good terms with the curse but one thing’s for sure. He was damn thankful that he understood his feelings for you and didn´t disrespect that.

[nextdoorharry]

it’s just acting.

-

request : Could you please write sth about y/n feeling a little jealous because of Harry playing jack on don’t worry darling and Harry with make her feel better and remind her that he only loves her!!!!

y/c/n = your cousin’s name

-

you were in harry’s la home, just finished up with work (from home of course), and started on dinner. ever since you came to la to stay with him while he films, (well more so you came to see glenne and jeff get engaged but that’s a secret between you and glenne) you decide to cook dinner every day. under normal circumstances you and harry usually switch off, but since harry is out the door by 6 am and doesn’t come home till 7 pm, he’s drained, so you decided to do it.

you light a candle, ring up your close cousin that lives back home, and begin cooking. you two begin catching each other up on your weeks, and anything significant that happened.

“enough about my relationship though, what about you? how’s harry?” y/c/n asks, as you pour the chopped garlic cloves in the pot.

“he’s good! just a little drained i suppose because of filming and other stuff. i feel like i only see him for a few hours of the day though..but honestly i’m glad we’re together at least for some time of the day, way better than being quarantined away from him the first few months when that all happened,” you sigh, putting the knife down. as you remembered when he was stuck in la, and you were stuck in your guys’ shared london home. he didn’t come back till june. before the pandemic, he was always gone for the better part of the year so the fact that when he was required to stay home but was in la, sucked.

“mhm i bet,” your cousin said, not really knowing the feeling, but sympathizes with you. “how’s filming going for him? heard him and florence have to get it on in the movie,” your cousin giggles, teasing you.

get it on.

harry and florence have to get it on.

no.

jack and alice have to get it on. you remind yourself.

you giggle a bit, taking a deep breath before stating your thoughts about it, not hearing the garage door open.

“yeah i mean, obviously it’s acting, so it’s not real. and i absolutely adore florence, i met her a few times, and she’s in a commited relationship as well, so it’s not weird to me. but obviously the slight jealousy is gonna be there no doubt. i mean seeing your boyfriend kissing someone and ‘getting it on’ with someone else is gonna mess with me a bit, i just gotta remind myself it’s acting,” you state nonchalantly.

“yeah it’s acting until one of them actually falls in love with each other” your cousin said in a teasingly joking manner. you both cackled.

“oi stop it!” you laugh. “okay well enough about that, i can’t wait to see the film though it’s gonna be so good,” you say, pouring yourself a glass of wine to go with the almost-ready food. you decide to pour harry some too as he should be home any minute now.

“me too, can’t wait. tell harry i want a seat next to chris pine,”

“don’t you have a boyfriend?” you question jokingly.

“he’s not chris pine,” your cousin said.

“gooooodbyeee y/c/n,” you both laughed and hung up.

once you locked your phone, you turned around to the oven to check on the food. but a figure caught your eye. harry.

he smirked. “hiya baby,” he coos walking over to where you stand. wrapping his arms around your waist, you wrap your arms around him as well.

“how long have you been standing there?” you ask giving a quick peck to him lips, moving your arms so your hands can grab his chin gently.

“long enough to hear you two talk about how me and florence might fall in love,” he smirked, teasing you, squeezing your sides.

“oi. stoppppp,” you exclaim. looking down smiling, cheeks getting heated with slight embarrassment knowing how harry knew how you felt.

you never really wanted to mention it in the first place because you really thought it was dumb. it was acting overall. so you never really cared to say anything.

“s’alright baby, i know s’gonna be weird seeing me kiss someone else. but yeah like you said, just gotta remind yourself s’acting,” he states, tilting your head up so you can make eye contact with him.

“can’t tell if that’s harry talking or psycho jack talking playing mind games with me,” you tease.

“definitely your harry. jack lost all energy today,” he smiles.

“here take your wine and i’ll plate up your food, go sit,” you say gently pushing him away so you can get to the oven.

-

once you both are seated, indulging in the food and wine, harry speaks up, “love you, i mean it,” he firmly states looking up towards you.

you blush. “love you too, h,”

“no seriously, if you’re actually getting upset or something about the whole me kissing someone else thing, tell me. wanna make sure you’re comfortable,” harry said.

you nod, not saying anything. the fact that it’s being talked about now is growing your jealousy inside.

“besides, i felt uncomfortable even doing those scenes, and of course same with florence since she’s in a relationship too, we had to re do those scenes many times because the chemistry wasn’t really showing at those times,” harry confesses.

“jeez harry like that makes me feel better,” you breathed out a laugh.

he puts his fork down and wipes his mouth. “noooo i’m saying, you were all i thought about. i actually felt like i was cheating. it felt so wrong. had to remind myself it was acting and i had to do it. promise baby, i love you, you’re it for me. nothing’s gonna change that. i’ll even cover your eyes at the premiere if ya want,” he said jokingly, but of course serious about what was previously said. harry’s in love with you. he wouldn’t want lingering thoughts about what ifs come to your mind. he’s all about you. he needs you to know that.

and you do know that. and you feel better. he loves you and expresses it in many ways possible. you two are endgame for each other. it’s just acting. relax y/n. you smile at him, blushing again like a school girl, “i love you lots,” you state.

he takes your hand across the table, giving kissies to your fingers. then intertwining his with yours.

“and y/n i actually applaud you. if this was the other way around don’t think i would be able to handle it. i’m too jealous baby,” he says in that tone. you know that tone far too well. you down your wine and drop your fork.

“wanna act out that scene of yours?” you smirk, and he thinks he’s gonna lose it right then and there, quickly jumping out of his seat.

-

a/n : thank you for requesting! @liligoli hope you like it! sorry if this was kinda rushed. hope you enjoy<3

[staywritten]

Studio Time│Bang Chan

Studio Time│Bang Chan

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is producing your groups comeback and you learn the downside of dating a perfectionist. 

Genre: one shot, angst-ish? Happy ending, idol!Chan, idol!reader, fluff with more fluff at the end.

Word Count: 2108

I wrote this fic like 5yrs ago for a different artist lol But I re-read it recently and still really liked it so I re-vamped it for SKZ. Especially after that episode of Weekly Idol when the members said Chan was sweet to them but he was really serious when he was making music, so I figured this was the perfect fit. 

When your label announced that your comeback album will be produced by Chan you weren’t really sure what to think. You prided yourself on keeping your careers separate, but on the other hand he was an amazingly talented producer and it wasn’t often that he produced for idol girl groups. 

At this point of his career he was expanding outside of doing work for just Stray Kids. It was an opportunity at which both parties benefited. He could grow his portfolio in a way that wasn’t possible when just producing for Stray Kids and he was an up and coming name in the industry.

You two didn’t date publicly but your members and management were aware of the relationship, so some of the pressure was lifted. You didn’t have to pretend like you didn’t know each other. 

Walking into the JYP building, you led your members to Chan’s signature studio. Despite coming to his studio pretty regularly, it was a little nerve racking coming to it for work. You felt just as nervous as you did when meeting a new producer. “Are you excited to work with Channie? How lucky are we! What kind of producer is he?” Your youngest member chimed, hooking her arm with you. 

You nodded laughing, giving her hand a little pat. “I guess we are pretty lucky.” Not many producers would be open to input, but since your members had a close relationship with your boyfriend you figured the atmosphere would be lighter. “I’m not sure how he is as a producer honestly. He’s never let me see him work before. Like I’ve seen him make beats, but never recording.”

As you all walked into his studio you smiled seeing him sitting with Han on the couch. “Wally!” you chimed giving the bright green wall a little pat. 

“What about me?” Chan pouted. 

“What about you?” you teased, giving him a wink. 

You did your group greeting and bowed, laughing at how silly it felt. Normally that would be saved for broadcast and fan meetings but it was a force of habit as a leader.

“Awww cute!” Chan chuckled before formally introducing himself just to cover the formalities. It wasn’t often you got to see your boyfriend while working, but you also had to keep in mind that you still had to work.

Chan walked over to you, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling brightly. “I missed you” he grinned. You did your best to ignore the aweing from your other members and Han. His nose brushed down the bridge of yours. 

“I saw you this morning” you played with the hair at his nape.

“I know, I missed you this afternoon” he laughed, pecking your lips, lingering just a moment too long.

You giggled, melting into his arms. “Aww, you’re being really cute today” you whispered, pulling back to look at him. “Don’t look at me like that” a smile tugged at your lips, as you gently grazed your nails against his scalp. “We have work yo do”

“Mmmm” he sighed into your touch. “I’m just excited to make this song. I worked so hard on it, it’s perfect for you” he smiled. “I made it just for you”

“I can’t wait” you chimed, pulling away from him. He whined letting you step back, a cute pout on his lips.

“Awww you guys are cute, it’s kinda gross” Han pretended to choke back a gag before laughing and grabbing his bag. “I gotta head to an interview, so I’ll catch you guys later.”

After the formalities, he played the demo track for you. Your members loved it. It was fun, playful and it had a bit of an edge to it. You couldn’t wait to record it. That was one of the plus sides about working with your boyfriend. You were actually very vocal at home about the direction you wanted to go in with your group.

This would be your first track of the new year, and all of your members were officially adults now. You wanted something teasing, and mature, yet still youthful and in true Chan fashion, he nailed it. 

All that was left now was to record it.

One by one your members did their lines, recording their parts in manageable segments. Chan was very caring with them, almost holding their hand through the process. “Minah, try singing it like this.” he coached her through it, reiterating her part, and changing the articulation toward the end. 

She was your youngest, and still wasn’t completely confident in her own voice yet so she was a lot to handle. She did her best to follow directions, but sometimes things were just out of her vocal range and when that happened Chan adjust accordingly. He coached her to give her the confidence that was needed to reach the note. Once she adjusted he clapped and gave her a thumbs up. “Very good, that was perfect! One more time, from the top.” In the end he changed up her part to best suit her voice and she had a cleaner take. 

You were proud seeing him so kind. You couldn’t help but watch him with the brightest warmth in your eyes. Your group were like your baby sisters and he was being so good to them. 

Unfortunately Minah wasn’t the most difficult take of the day, but he worked with each one of them carefully. In their defense it was a difficult song to sing. It was a very dynamic with lots of changes, not only was this a genre change from your groups usual music it pushed your vocalist and rappers to step up.  

Soon enough it was your turn to record. 

Although you couldn't really call it recording. 

Chan wasted no time in stopping you every few words. Perhaps you were spoiled with how doting and sweet he was with your members. Because it seemed that he had no intentions of treating you in such a manner.

“Babe, can you do it seriously?”

“No- Again that sounds horrible”

“Do it again”

“Again, from the top.”

“Again”

“It’d be nice if I had a single sample I could use.”

“If you can’t do it, perhaps we should have someone else do it?”

“This is kind of embarrassing”

Was this even the same person? You understood constructive criticism. Constructive is what he was with your members. This was just being mean. You slipped off your headphones and glared at him when he stopped you again. That time you were in the middle of another take. It would have been nice to get a single line out with his opinion.

You hated that you wanted to cry.

You had to deal with some pretty tough critics. Producers, songwriters, choreographers, your CEO. Making an album was a high stress process with a lot of hands on deck. It was your job, so naturally it wasn’t going to go smoothly. Especially when everyone had different creative views, but this was the worst recording you’ve ever dealt with in the entirety of your music career. 

You just hated being yelled at. 

He knew that better than anyone. All those nights, you would come home from work and he’d have to console you after you’d been scolded. Chan knew that yelling immediately shut you down. You bit back your tears, wanting to hold it together for your members. You could see them struggling from behind the glass. It looked like they wanted to say something, at least tell Chan to ease up, but you shook your head and took a deep breath.

Normally you would avoid confrontation and just sing it the way the producer wanted, but you just couldn’t do it. Because what Chan wanted, wasn’t you.

You finally set the headphones on the rack inside before walking out. “Where are you going?” he frowned watching you take your backpack. “We don’t have anything for your part. We need to start from the beginning”

You shrugged. “Give my part to Jieun, she’ll do it better”

Jieun gasped before reaching out to you, shaking her head profusely. “What? But Unnie-”

“It’s fine” you gave her a small smile, trying to calm her. “I’ll call the company directly and tell them I can’t participate in the recording”

“But it’s our comeback track! You can’t not have a part in it” Minah grabbed your hand. She looked back at Chan “Tell her to stay.” Seeing the hesitation in his eyes she frowned more “Chan tell-”

“That’s enough.” you gave her head a small pat. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of here. I’ll check in on you later.” you looked to your second in command “Jieun you’re in charge.”

Chan rolled his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest. “So you’re just leaving? Do you always quit like this? Is that the way you lead?”

You froze, hearing his words. 

Was he trying to hurt you? What could you have possibly done? He was fine earlier. You gripped your fist, your body shaking before leaving the room with your head held high. You knew when someone was trying to get a rise out of you, and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

On your way through the lobby you ran into Han. He smiled initially seeing you, but as you wiped away your tears he frowned. “Hey…”  His gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It was too gentle. Almost sympathetic. You looked up, scrambling to bring a smile on your face. That signature idol smile you gave to the cameras. “You don’t have to do that…” he gave your shoulder a small pat. “Do you wanna get some coffee?”

You sat across from Han at the cafe across the street. He didn't push you to speak. He just gave you a moment to sort out your feelings, let you take your time and figure out what to say.

He sipped on his drink. “Chan-Hyung was being a jerk huh?”

It wasn’t really a question. There was a certain understanding in his voice. You looked up at him, your eyes narrowing. “Is he always like that?”

He chuckled. “Sometimes. Chan is a perfectionist. Always was. Always will be. There are times when our group has come to blows because Chan can just be a little too much when criticizing. Threatening to remove Changbin-Hyung’s part from the song, getting frustrated in vocal ranges…real harsh criticisms...things like that. I don’t even think he’s aware of when he’s doing it.” he sighed. “Like when we record it just seems like the stress finally gets to him.”

Your shoulders slumped. “But he was really nice to my members…Absolutely sweet to them…he was only mean to me. Not that I would want him to yell at my girls-I’d literally kill him. But…” you sighed staring into your coffee. “Why was he being so mean…”

“He was probably being extra careful with your members…”

“What do you mean?”

“When we were recording our collaborative stage with Niziu, Chan was really nice to them. Doting, constructive, an angel. But that day was hell on us. It’s like he had pent up frustrations and just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I swear Minho-Hyung almost quit that day.”

“What type of bullshit excuse is that?”

He shrugged. “No excuse. Just how it is…Like he can only be himself with people that he knows will forgive him. He can be an ass sometimes, but he sure does put out amazing songs.”

“But at what cost?” you sighed, taking a sip of your coffee.

Later that night Chan came home, sheepishly poking his head inside to see you sitting on the couch. His eyes widened as he entered. “You’re still here?” his voice a little more surprised than he’d like to let on. A lingering bit of reliefe to his tone.

You sighed turning the page of your book “I was going to leave your ass. But I figured we should at least talk. Despite what you make think of me. I’m not a quitter” you set your book down before crossing your arms. “So talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. It’s just-” he groaned, raking his hand through his curly hair. “The track wasn’t going where I wanted to. It was getting away from me…The only way I’d like the track was for your part to be exactly what I envisioned...for you to bring everything back”

It made sense he did give you the biggest part of the song. The chorus, and bridge were the most memorable of his demo and he gave them to you. He even had you sing the demo for the company to pitch the idea. At the time you thought it was sweet, you had no idea the burden it’d be. 

It was obvious this song was made to be a solo for you.

“Your members did their best, but they just didn’t have the vocal range to do the song the way I envisioned it… So I made adjustments and compromises...” he sighed heavily. “And more adjustments...and more compromises...” he rubbed his temples. “Especially because if they can’t sing it at recording they wouldn’t be able to perform it on stage. So one change became another….” he sighed heavily, slumping into the chair. “I loved the song so much because it’s what I knew you wanted to release… But they just couldn’t...and…”

“I don’t think we can work together Chan…” you frowned. “You’re my boyfriend, and an amazing producer…but you can’t be both. In order for us to be happy with the track, and in order for me to be happy with our relationship we can’t work together.”

“We can still make it work. Let’s try again tomorrow.” he looked so hopeful. “I promise I won’t yell, and I-”

“You don’t understand Chan. You made me hate you.” your voice small, as you looked down. 

He sank down into himself. His shoulders slumping, hurt etched on his delicate features. Never in his lifetime would he have thought you’d say that. “You…You hated me?”

“I did…for a little bit…You made me hate myself…You made me feel like an inadequate leader, you made me question myself.” you hugged your knees. “I can’t feel like that ever again. I’m responsible for six other girls who look up to me. It’s so easy to get ransacked in this industry, to be pushed and pulled into concepts. They need to believe in me. I need to believe in me and my ability, but with you… I couldn’t. So for my sake…Let’s drop the project.”

He closed his eyes before nodding. “Alright…” He hated that he made you feel that way. He never intended it on getting that bad. He just panicked when he listened to the track, and you were the last person to record. You were supposed to be the saving grace of it. He wasn’t going to release something he didn’t at least like. Once again his overly perfectionist ways almost cost him something he wasn’t willing to lose. “I am sorry…” he whispered.

Producing was one of his greatest joys in the world, and singing was yours. There was just something so utterly heartbreaking knowing that you could never share your passions together. “I know…I’m sorry too.”

He bundled you in his arms, letting you lay your head on his chest. He pressed a kiss on top of your head. “I have one more compromise”

“You don’t give up do you?” you felt your lips tugging to a smile. “What’s your compromise lover boy?”

“What about I talk to your company into giving you this song for a solo for later this year? And you, me and Jisung write up a new song for your group comeback?”

“There’s no time”

He chuckled. “If anyone can write a song in crunch mode it’s Han Jisung” he smoothed down your hair. “I think with your help we can write something that’s mroe ideal for your girls”

“But a solo-”

“Baby I wrote that song for you.” he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours. “That song was yours...And I need you to have it. You said your company was planning a solo debut anyway... so sing this.” 

“Chan I love you so much...But I can’t record an album with you”

His beautiful brown eyes gazed into you. “I offered you a compromise, offer me one too”

You pouted. “Fine, since you’re in the mood to make a deal. I’ll take your solo song only if I record with Jisung, and Changbin.”

“Deal” You smiled gently scratching his scalp, and placing a kiss at the base of his throat. “Mmmm...” a groan echoed from his throat. “I’m so sorry about today Baby”

“It’s fine” you relaxed into his touch as he traced patterns into your skin absently. You grinned. “It’s nice to know that you’re not perfect”

He chuckled, throwing his head back. “I never claimed to be perfect”

“Oh yeah?” You sat back, crawling onto his lap. A smile on your lips as you gazed into his eyes. “Mr. Perfect hair” you played with the hair on his nape. “Perfect smile” you placed a kiss on his lips. “Perfect dimples” your thumb brushing against his dimple. “Perfect voice” you pressed a kiss on his adam’s apple. “You are perfect in a million different ways.” you giggled “You’re just not meant t be my producer”

“I can live with loving you in a million other ways.” he stood up, lifting you in his arms and carrying you into the bedroom, your laughs echoing and filling the house.

End.

Hey Friends! I hope you enjoyed that. It was nice revisiting an old fic and breathing some new life into it. If you liked it let me know <3 

I’m sorry my Felix scenario is taking so long... I’ve rewritten it like 8 times and I’m getting a bit overwhelmed I’m gonna try and revisit it when my mind is clearer. I’ve been starting at the screen for far too long. 

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