#wingman cloud

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

Ok this is definitely spoilers if you haven’t gotten to Gongaga yet. It’s like a convo you have if you go and interact with your party while you’re in the village sort of spoilers. Also I’m sorry I can’t give chapter numbers, I already can’t remember what bits of story took place in which chapters 😅

“So do you still like him?” Aerith blinked at him, silent shock on her face as she spoke.

“Wow… you really went there.” Cloud tilted his own head, entirely unsure on what was wrong with asking the question. He just wanted to see if Tifa had a chance, he saw how the woman looked at her and he wanted her to be happy. However she found that.

“I mean… I guess. He never gave me a reason not to.” Cloud hummed, resisting the urge to frown with the news. He’d admit he wasn’t a very good matchmaker but he was hoping he could at least help in some way to hook his friend up with her glaringly obvious crush.

Well… obvious to Cloud who’d grown up with her and watched her crush on Lindsey next door while adamantly denying and saying it was the girls brother she liked. Which Cloud knew was bull because he and Tifa had a scarily similar taste in people sometimes, just opposite genders.

“Are you jealous?” Cloud balked at the words, going to protest but being cut off by Tifa’s approach. He knew she wouldn’t exactly appreciate his efforts to help her and if he were being honest with himself, he wouldn’t blame her for it.

[xxwitchylanexx]

Wandering the Woodlands- Cloud/Reader

Rebirth Retold Chapter 1

May contain spoilers if you haven't played rebirth. Planning on making this a series that follow the events of the game.

Chapter 2

Masterlist

*~*

Earth to Cloud! Anyone in there?” Aerith’s sing song voice barreled through the fog that filled his head leaving him like a deer in headlights. A warm fingertip poked at his forehead as if she was trying to restart his brain.

Cloud quickly swatted her hand from his face before crossing his arms over his chest. He jerked his head to the side to hide the blush that was creeping up his face as an awkward feeling settled into his gut. She laughed lightly at his reaction much like the light wind that swept through the trees surrounding the field. He huffed in frustration knowing how easy it was for her to see through him especially since he was unsure of what he was feeling himself. He hated how she caught him in such a vulnerable moment.

“She is pretty, though I didn’t think you were interested in romance.” 

He scoffed. “I’m not.” Which was the truth. He had more important things going on, like saving the Planet, and surely didn’t have the time to be thinking about girls no matter how pretty he thought the woman was.

“Oh come on! You’ve been staring at her so long I thought you vacated your body!” And there it was: The beginning of her light hearted teasing. She stepped closer into his personal space, fully aware that he preferred people to stay at least two feet away. Her smile widened at his discomfort before she lowered her voice, “You’re lucky no one else noticed.”

“I told you, it’s not like that.” Even he didn’t think he sounded convincing. Even his eyes betrayed him as they swept back over past his group of comrades to admire her features that left him star stuck. Before his thought were carried away once again Aerith’s laughter made him self conscious. He quickly tore his gaze away and began stalking to the rest of the them, hopefully leaving a good distance between he and his annoying friend. “Let’s just catch up with the others.” He called over his shoulder.

She was one step ahead of him, again, and grabbed onto his forearm and pulled him back towards her. She leaned against him her front to his back. He seen that sparkle in her eyes that usually meant trouble for him and before he could say anything she spoke lowly in his ear before shooting him a wink and released him just as quickly before running ahead with a skip to her step rejoining the rest of their friends before he could get a word in edge wise. “Don’t worry,” she had said,“it’ll be our secret.” 

Cloud huffed. A mix of frustration and embarrassment swirled within him. He hated that she was, is, ultimately right. They’ve encountered plenty of attractive people during their travels and he never gave them the time of day, but something about this girl had him freezing in his tracks, and to be honest he wasn’t thrilled with his reaction. He never froze, couldn’t afford to in this line of work.

Billy had said they’d most likely run into his trainer, but Cloud didn’t imagine she’d look anything like this. He had expected someone much older with the way Billy talked about her expertise. If you run into Y/N give her a hand would you? Billy had asked, but now that he’s seen her in action it was clear that she was perfectly fine on her own.

Their ragtag group stopped in their tracks when they came across the field and began to watch from afar as the trainer soundlessly approached the chocobo from behind. Your lithe body was relaxed without an ounce of hesitancy and your movements were even and calculated. You stretched one hand out slowly for the reins near its beak and the other ghosted along the bird’s flank gliding through its ruffled feathers. Your fingers threaded through the leather just as the chocobo became aware of your intentions. Its beak opened to squawk loudly at you before Cloud had hear your melodic words even over the chocobo’s protests.

It was your voice, now that he thought about it, that resonated with something inside him. Your voice was bright, comfortable and entirely captivating. It soothed the thundering beat of his heart against his ribcage like a river weathering rigid rocks along the rapid cascades of rushing water. He was enthralled so much so that he didn’t even realize you succeeded in taming the bird or hear Barrett’s loud ass calling out to you. Which lets be honest should’ve been concerning itself. Cloud would think he was totally deaf if not for your laughter filtering through cotton between his ears.

And then he really saw you, and Cloud swore someone cast thunder on him. The golden rays of the high noon sun cast you in a ethereal light. A few rays ran through your braided hair, darker roots that flowed into a light h/c towards the end, giving you a graceful glow. The few pieces that framed your face highlighted your features. Flawless sun-kissed s/c skin that looked soft as silk, round face and flushed cheeks. Your sharp brows slightly furrowed, a cute little wrinkle appeared in between them, as your narrowed luminous orbs studied them. A Button nose leading to rosy plump lips slowly pulling into a grin as you realized that his group just wanted to know how to catch their own chocobos. Then your e/c eyes flicked over to him and the weight of your stare as you took him. The prolonged eye contact made the palms of his hands sweaty and he fought the urge to wipe them on his pants. Then your attention moved onto someone else and that’s when Aerith started her shit.

He hadn’t even realized how long he’d looked at you, and a small part of him was worried you’d thought he was creepy. He sighed once again and shook his head becoming more and more aware of how he must look standing all by himself across the field. Before they- he- could waste anymore time he called out to them. “We done here?”

*~*

“So you need some chocobos to cross the swamps?” Y/N asked once everyone made it back to the Bill’s ranch. She led Piko, a chocobo who was apparently as hard headed as you were persistent, into the stall inside the barn at the back of the property and gave him a stern look as if you were warning him to not try anything. The bird squawked as you’d turned your attention to the man in front of you instead of him. You just shushed him over your shoulder.

“That a problem?” Cloud said in a way that made you think he was trying to prove something, or maybe just covering something else up. 

Your eyes darted over his almost emotionless expression and debated if you should poke the figurative bear. “Not if you know how to handle a chocobo.” You turned from him suddenly and sauntered over to where Billy was tending to another chocobo. You flicked at the denim hat he was wearing and the feather tucked into the lighter blue band fluttered lightly. "Are you sure about these guys?” You tilted your head at the group behind you. You ignored the hushed scoff that escaped your new ‘friend’.

Billy brushed the bird in front of him a few more times before he tucked the brush into his overalls and wiped his gloved hands on the towel laid across the tall barrel next to the stall before he faced you. Before he could answer you the dark haired lady, Tifa you recalled, and the other girl in pick that cheerily had said her name was Aerith, each clasped one of your hands from behind you. “Could you teach us? Pretty please?” Aerith asked.

You tried to wiggle free, feeling slightly uncomfortable at the sudden contact, but their resolve proved to be more stubborn. “It’d really help us out. We really need to get to Junon.” Tifa explained immediately after Aerith.

Billy just smiled at the interaction, knowing how awkward you feel with the human part of the business. “That was your last job with us for now right? Weren’t you going to head to the saucer? You could just go with them.” Billy chimed in, and you internally cursed him. Of course he’d use this opportunity to try to force you to make friends. You’ve told him time and time again that you were happy being alone, but he would never let it go. 

“That’s a great idea!” Aerith chirped excitedly as she released you in favor of clasping her hands behind her back and rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Right, Cloud?” she asked. You thought you caught her winking at the man as you turned to see his reaction, though it remained blank. The guy has a hell of a poker face. 

“Whatever.” he replied bruskly before stalking outside. You watched him blankly walk off to one of the outside corrals. When you were sure he was out of ear shot you addressed the girls. “Is he always so…” You struggled momentarily to find the right word, “standoffish?”

“Sorry about him.” Tifa turned to gaze at him as his form grew farther away. “He’s not so bad once he opens up, really.”

You hummed absentmindedly to yourself as your eyes followed his figure as one of the chocobos approached him. He extended one of his gloved hands to the bird allowing it to sniff him. Your head tilted to the side as you marveled at him. You couldn’t say you weren’t curious. For someone who basically lit you on fire with his stare back at the field he sure seemed like he wanted nothing to do with you. Was he shy? You didn’t feel like that was the case since he seemed to be arrogant as all hell. Maybe he’s just more awkward with people.

He shifted his attention back over at you and your eyes met briefly again before he quickly looked away. The second you saw him in the field you noticed the mako swirling around his eyes. A soldier. An ex Shinra employee. You admit you were worried for a moment when you saw him. A part of you wondered what the chances were that he was in fact there for you, but that was quickly proved to be true since he made it very clear that he was an ex-soldier. You found it completely bizarre that you felt so comfortable around him despite having any connection to that Gaia forsaken company.

“Cute. Isn’t he?” Aerith had whispered as she leaned into her space. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at her. You noticed that too. Blonde locks that closely resembled your beloved chocobos, round neutral eyes as blue as the ocean that look luminescent with the mako enhancing them. Perfect bow-like lips despite being pulled into a frown, and let’s not forget his sleek frame with muscles as hard as steel. Oh no, you were completely aware of how attractive he is.

“I suppose he’s nice to look at.” Both women shared a look before they broke out into a laugh. A smile pulled across your lips. “What do you say, Piko? Could be fun.” You asked without your eyes moving from the broody blonde across the field. Piko squawked happily at the prospect of a journey. You never could get him to be content in a pasture. “Some training is in order then. Let’s go see the birds.”

*~*

“You have to relax. Chocobo’s pick up on that stuff. If you’re uncomfortable they won’t trust that you’ll safely guide them.” Your voice called out to him from you place on the wooden fence as you observed him pull the reigns a little to firmly causing Piko to drift off to the side for the umpteenth time.

How could he relax when you won’t stop watching him? Cloud thought he was a decent rider. At least nobody told him otherwise in Midgar. He sighed heavily as you stood from your place and walked back over to the two of them, the sound of the stiff grass crunching under your boots with every step closer. His hands grew clammy as you stepped into his two feet personal space to smooth down some of the bird’s feathers. He tried his hardest not flinch when you wrapped your hands around his own to unclench his fist against the reigns. 

“Relax.” You soothed as a waft of vanilla was carried from your body on the wind making his pulse quicken. “You’re pulling to hard.” You let go and approached Piko’s head. Cloud wanted to smack himself when he caught himself missing the warmth of your hands. “What do you think, Piko? Can you work with him?” You brought your face in near Piko’s beak like you were listening for his answer before humming in satisfaction. “I think so too.”

Cloud cocked his head slightly to the side. “Do you understand him?” He felt a little silly asking since it was a chocobo, but you seemed so sure. You peered up at him through your lashes. He gripped the reins in his hands again against your instruction and looked away as he waited for your answer.

“In a way. Their body language is always a clear way to see how they’re feeling, but I look into their eyes. Some things don’t need to be conveyed by words. At least not for me.” He side eyed you as you patted the side of Piko’s face before stepping a few paces back giving him room to breathe again. He attention instinctively returning back to you. “I think you and Piko have more in common than just appearance.”

Cloud blinked once then twice thinking over your words. He looked like a chocobo? His friends certainly liked to think so, but he was always irritated at the comparison before. Why did he almost like that you thought so. For a lack of a coherent response he huffed and looked straight ahead.

“For example. You’ve ridden before and should have no difficulty getting around by chocobo, but like Piko here, when unsure you can become hostile. Temperamental on the surface, but a heart of gold within.” You side as one of your hands clenched into your shirt at your heart. 

“You don’t even know me.” The words slipped out before he could shove them back into his head. His tone coming off angry even though he felt more flustered than anything. Like Odin could he at least try to process the new whirlwind of feelings. He shifted uncomfortably in the saddle.

“That’s true,” You stepped closer once again and raised yourself onto your tiptoes to get close to his face. His eyes widened in surprise and his breath hitched in his throat, but he didn’t dare move a muscle. “But, I can see it in your eyes.” You moved away as quickly as you’d approached him only this time you didn’t stop to perch on top of the wooden fence. This time you kept going. He could only watch as your braid swayed from side to side before you escaped his view when you reentered the barn. Even though he could no longer see you, he could still hear your words repeating in his head.

*~*

[wangxianficrecs]

The Second Siege of the Cloud Recesses by Cerusee

The Second Siege of Cloud Recesses

by Cerusee

G, 4k, wangxian

Summary: Did anyone ask for the Untamed AU where Wei Wuxian came back to life sixteen years later only to hear the tragic story, from Lan disciples at Mo’s Manor, how Lan Wangji had been whipped to death for defending the Yiling Patriarch? No. Did that stop me? No.

Mojo's comments: ohmyGAWD wwx gonna go feral on those elders and no one can stop him…. Or. Wait. Hmmm.

Excerpt: And then the Yiling Patriarch and his pet corpse emerged from the crowd of the silent, motionless dead, gliding through them like wind through trees. Wei Wuxian walked until he was barely fifteen feet from Sect Leader Lan, the dead-eyed Ghost General as close on his heels as a dog and his master. Sect Leader Lan surprised those closest to him, when he said, “Master Wei,” and bowed, shallowly. Wei Wuxian surprised them all even more, by making a sarcastic half-bow back. “I don’t need to explain why I’m here, do I?” “I don’t believe you do.”

canon-divergence, dead lan wangji, the untamed canon, implied wangxian, wingman wen ning, post resurrection, revenge, dark wei wuxian, vengeful wei wuxian, yiling laozu wei wuxian, bamf wei wuxian, bamf wen ning, lan xichen, corpse army, @cerusee

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[dark-elf-writes]

So anyway I’ve decided the vibe of the leaf house/slums protector Cloud AU is “Cloud who can’t stop saving people and the found family he gets out of doing exactly that”

[salternateunreality2]

Sefikura's Awkward Dates, Part 3: Sephiroth Asks Cloud Out

Since @snowbanshee asked ❤️

Sephiroth had prepared for this moment for months. He was ready. He walked up to Third Class Strife and took action.

"Strife, go out with me."

"Sir! Right now?"

Sephiroth was surprised it had worked this well and this quickly. He was nothing if not adaptable, though.

"Yes, this way." He spun on his heel, gesturing to the younger man, who followed unquestioningly.

It was a good thing Sephiroth had worked hard with his friends to come up with date ideas and pickup lines beforehand, now he was prepared for anything.

"Did it hurt?" asked Sephiroth.

Cloud tilted his head.

"Did what hurt?"

"When you fell from heaven?"

"Uh, Sir, are you calling me the devil?"

"Hmm, I suppose that would be a reasonable interpretation. Forget I said anything," said Sephiroth, already trying to remember the next pickup line as he strode down the street. Cloud was quiet, no doubt pleased with the situation. Sephiroth loved Cloud's quietness--he was so calm most of the time, but had the biting wit of Genesis, the stamina of Zack, the gentleness of Angeal, and a fire all his own.

------

Cloud trotted along next to Sephiroth, not exactly struggling to keep up, but having to take two strides to every one of Sephiroth's. He seemed happy and energetic about something, but hadn't deigned to share with Cloud. Oh well, the day was nice and Cloud'd take any chance to be alone with his crush, even if it was for some weird impromptu patrol.

"I was missing vitamin U," said Sephiroth, suddenly.

"I'm sorry," said Cloud, unsure of what to say. His understanding of vitamins was rudimentary at best, and he had no idea what a SOLDIER of Sephiroth's caliber might need. It was usually a bad thing to have a vitamin deficiency though. His response seemed to satisfy Sephiroth, though, so he just shrugged and kept trotting.

-----

Sephiroth beamed inside. This was going great. Only one botched pickup line! And they were almost to the restaurant!

Genesis had suggested a very high-end place, with a dress code and too many forks, while Zack had suggested a hot dog stand where you could get "a lot of hot food for cheap". Angeal suggested a compromise with a nice little lunch place that served hearty portions and welcomed everyone. He said it would make Cloud the most comfortable while still treating him well.

Sephiroth was grateful for his good friends.

"I love Angeal, Genesis, and Zack," he said, opening the cafe door for Cloud. "In here, please."

"Oh," said Cloud.

---------

Cloud knew it. Sephiroth was in love with the other Firsts, and this little excursion was a kind way of telling Cloud to fuck off and leave the friend group. It hurt a little extra that this was a popular lunch spot for dates, and that Cloud would get his heart broken while playing hooky from his regular duties. Knowing his luck, he'd probably get written up for ditching, even if Sephiroth vouched for him.

"Order anything you like," said Sephiroth as they stood in line.

Cloud barely managed a grunt, and when it was their turn, he just muttered "same" after Sephiroth ordered.

Sephiroth let out a small smile. He was probably looking forward to getting rid of the pesky chocobo so easily. Cloud's heart clenched at the thought and the smile. He lived for those tiny little twitches of Sephiroth's lips and the bright twinkle in his eyes.

Sure, he'd thought the man was hot since his early teens, but as he'd gotten to know Sephiroth through Zack and the others, he began to love every piece of him, especially the bare hints of his true self from behind the professional mask. Cloud loved Sephiroth's pupils dilating and shrinking with his emotions, his crisp writing, his dry wit, his endearing cluelessness, his earnest care for his men and close companions...

Cloud loved the harsh parts too. Sephiroth glaring stone-faced at Hojo, forcing the man to concede and adjust Cloud's mako schedule after a bad reaction. Then after the scientist left, Cloud saw Sephiroth deflate and his hands shake. Whatever was between Hojo and Sephiroth was unpleasant at best, but Sephiroth had stood up for Cloud anyway.

Cloud saw when Sephiroth made hard decisions on the battlefield, saw the hints and glimpses of inner turmoil, saw the cool calm confidence as Sephiroth made his final choices.

Even Sephiroth's brutality was beautiful and thrilling to Cloud, like when he took on a dragon single-handedly to protect a squad of troopers.

Ah, but it was all over now. Their food had been delivered to their seats and Sephiroth had been quiet the whole time. Now he would tell Cloud the truth and push him away. Just like everyone.

-----

Sephiroth loved this moment, the sun blazing brightly overhead, highlighting Cloud's handsome golden locks. Not even the crowds bothered him today, as long as he could share this pleasant silence with this beautiful, wonderful man on their first-ever date.

Their food had arrived, so it was probably time for another pickup line, or some polite conversation.

"If people were boogers, I'd pick you first," Sephiroth said confidently.

Cloud's head snapped up from where he'd been staring at his fish burger.

"Really?"

"Of course, it is extra fitting, as you are yellow-headed," Sephiroth explained, pleased with his cleverness.

Uh-oh. That did not look like Cloud's happy face.

"REALLY, SEPHIROTH?! You drag me all the way out here in the middle of work, probably costing me a demerit at best, just to call me a BOOGER and reject me from your friend group?! And here I thought you were trying to let me down gently! How dare you?! You just...I lo- liked you so much and even if I'm not good enough to be your lover, I at least thought we could be *sniff* FRIENDS, and here you are getting me FIRED and CALLING ME A BOOGER!"

Cloud finished his tirade by jumping up and running out of the restaurant. Sephiroth was left bewildered, smelling fish and tears, watching his date sprint back to the tower.

He considered finishing lunch first, but settled on asking for to-go boxes before regrouping with his friends and hopefully finding Cloud.

---------

It was evening when Sephiroth was finally allowed to see Cloud, who had been caught by Zack and squirreled away in Zack's hoarder's nest of an apartment.

"Cloud?" he asked the angry burrito in the middle of Zack's couch. It huffed.

"Come on, Spike, you said you'd hear him out," said Zack, poking the lump. It growled.

"Fine. Get it over with."

"Genesis, Angeal, and Zack" Sephiroth began. The burrito's breath hitched like it was about to start crying. "Informed me that my words and actions were unclear this afternoon. I'm very distressed by this fact and wish to clarify. I intended to ask you, Cloud, out on a romantic date, and I mistakenly thought you'd accepted. The unfortunate comparisons to demons and bodily excretions were my poor attempts at pickup lines."

Zack had one hand covering his mouth to prevent a snort, and the other on his temple to massage it.

The room went very quiet.

"But...you said you were in love with the others?" Cloud's cocoon said, voice wavering.

"I said I loved them, which I do. I had asked them for advice, and they gave what I thought were good suggestions. At the time, I was praising them since I felt the date was going well. I realize now how that could be misleading. I...I'm sorry for scaring and confusing you, Cloud. I do quite like you, romantically, and no one else."

A pair of blue sapphires peeked out of the blankets, studying Sephiroth.

"Do you still...do you still want to go on a date?" Cloud asked, his gaze calculating.

"Very much so," replied Sephiroth.

"*Sniff* ok, me too. And I'm sorry for shouting and running out. Are you going to get bad press for that? I really didn't mean to, I just- I thought you hated me and-"

"Please, Cloud, do not worry over such things. They are all negligible in the face of my happiness over securing your affection."

"Dang, you shoulda used THAT line, Seph-dawg!" crowed Zack, slapping his friend on the shoulder. Cloud jumped, having forgotten Zack was there.

"Zackary, I believe you just ruined a moment," Sephiroth grumped. "Cloud, would you like to come over to my apartment? I saved our meals from lunch."

Cloud crawled out of his blanket nest, nodding vigorously and trying to subtly wipe his face off.

"*sniff* Yeah, I'd love to *sniff* thanks. Thanks Zack."

Soon the pair was on their way down the hall, ready to microwave fish burgers and make the whole floor rank with their newfound relationship.

[sephirthoughts]

ok i got that nasty one out of my system here’s the nice one

Vincent Got a Phone

[but to the tune of Janie's Got a Gun you're welcome]

WARNINGS: none yet but we’ll get there keep your pants on (for now)

INFO: CID/VINCENT, BBFs vincent & aerith it makes sense i swear, background sefikura, fluff, eventual smut, humor, no angst just idiot-related shenanigans

SYNOPSIS: Vincent had a crush, then he got a phone, which has started him down a road toward genuine human connection that he is in no way prepared for. Aerith, his self-appointed friend and wingman (who may not be nearly as sweet and innocent as one would think, based on the dresses and flowers), is determined to steer her favorite ship on the right course!

Chapter 1: The Friend-ship Sails!

BIGDICKDADDY: hello everyone. i bought a phone.

SolidStrife: sephiroth?

SolidStrife: typo oops

SolidStrife: i mean who the fuck is this

.*･｡ﾟ☆Ti-chan☆｡ﾟ･*. : yeah how did you get our group chat ID creep! >:C

BIGDICKDADDY: this is vincent valentine.

SolidStrife: ...

SolidStrife: quick question

BIGDICKDADDY: cid chose this name for me. i don’t know how to change it.

TheChief: hahaha it’s a real good one why would you change it

✿FlowerGal✿: i thought Dick was short for Richard? shouldn’t it be Big Vince Daddy?

.*･｡ﾟ☆Ti-chan☆｡ﾟ･*. : oh honey

✿FlowerGal✿: or Big Vic Daddy? that works too.

SolidStrife: but the daddy part is ok with you

YiffYuff: i think it’s a funny name lol

SolidStrife: you would

YiffYuff: wtf what is that supposed to mean

SolidStrife: it means i know what your username means

YiffYuff: ????

VValentine: nevermind. cait sith showed me how to do it.

TheChief: aw boo y’all are no fun

TheChief: damn robot cats these days

✿FlowerGal✿: I’m really glad you got a phone, Mr. Valentine! Now we can all talk to you and you won’t miss anything! :-D

[VValentine has left the chat]

.*･｡ﾟ☆Ti-chan☆｡ﾟ･*. : wow rude

SolidStrife: he lasted longer than i expected

YiffYuff: what does my username mean!!

YiffYuff: what the hell are you talking about!!!

YiffYuff: CLOUD!!!!

SolidStrife: why don’t you ask cait sith

Vincent had a phone, now. That was…good. A phone was a thing one used to communicate with other people. It was a step toward humanity. Toward the light. Out of the abyss.

Only, he found himself reflexively wanting to retreat back to the safety of his coffin. After all, was taking such a step even allowed, for him? Was this not just collecting another sin with which to freight his soul and trouble his sleep?

But…when sin felt so much like sunshine on your skin, when it was blue and brilliant gold, so vivid you could almost taste the colors—when sin was a wisp of that heartbreaking warmth, so desperately craved during those long, cold, solitary years in the dark…how was one meant to choose atonement?

He would never try to touch the sky, he reasoned. He would only slip out of the shadows and stand in the sunlight for a little while, to quietly absorb some of its warmth, before he sank back into the eternal darkness. Even such a creature as himself yearned for some small comfort, after all.

A soft voice broke in, drawing him from his ruminations. “Um. Mr. Valentine? Are you coming to dinner?”

It was the lighter haired girl. Aerith Gainsborough. And she looked like she was cautiously approaching a rabid dog.

Vincent suppressed a sigh and withdrew deeper into his cloak, in order to appear less threatening. He couldn’t tell from her expression whether or not it was working. But all he had to do was politely decline, and she would go away.

“No, thank—”

“Hey, Vinnie! Vin!” Cid called out, just then, from ten meters behind her, where the rest of them were gathering. “We’re goin’ to eat, you comin’?”

“Yes, thank you,” Vincent said to the girl, as he pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning on, and strode away toward the group.

Aerith paused for a moment, with an unreadable look on her face, before she trotted after him.

“Did you not like your food, Cloud?” Tifa was asking, as the party exited the restaurant, a couple of hours later.

“Huh? Food?” Cloud said distractedly. “Oh. It was fine.”

“Do you even know what you ate?” Yuffie retorted. “You were staring at your phone the entire time.”

“I wasn’t staring at my—” Cloud pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen a few times. “I gotta go. I’ll be back…later.”

“Where are you going? Cloud!” Tifa shouted after him, as he hurried away down the street. Annoyed with the young man’s wayward behavior, she naturally turned to her friend, for support. “Can you believe how rude he’s being? What is going on with him?”

Aerith was looking the other direction, however, apparently engrossed in something else. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Totally. What a jerk.”

“You weren’t even listening!” Tifa said, stamping her foot. “Why is everyone acting like this tonight?”

“You mean, why’s no one paying attention to the princess?” Yuffie smirked.

Tifa scowled. “Shut it, brat. Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Yuffie rolled her eyes. “Don’t you know frowning gives you wrinkles?”

“Oh, ho ho! Did you guys see that?!” Aerith exclaimed, startling them both.

“See what?” they replied, nearly in unison.

“Mr. Valentine just yawned, and exactly ten seconds later, Mr. Highwind said he was tired and wanted to head back!” She gave a delighted little giggle and then squealed, clutching her phone to her chest, like a teddy bear.

Yuffie and Tifa looked at each other, then back at her, with expressions one might adopt when addressing a mental patient.

“Mr. Valentine yawns all the time, Aeri-chan,” Tifa pointed out.

“Yeah, what’s so interesting about old men being tired?” Yuffie scoffed. “They both fell asleep in the theater, the other night, and you weren’t wetting your pants about that.”

Tifa made a face. “You want to rethink that phrasing, maybe?”

“Hehehe it’s nothing, nothing at all. You wouldn’t understand,” Aerith gloated, while rapidly typing something on her phone. She hit what must have been the ‘send’ button, with an air of triumph, then finally looked up. “Hey…where did Cloud go?”

Over the next several days, Vincent began to get a feeling that he was being watched. He had this feeling because he was definitely being watched. By the Gainsborough girl, of all people. She seemed to have taken an unusual interest in his activities, and had been surreptitiously observing him, at random intervals throughout each day.

He was aware of it pretty much immediately, due to his high level of training and artificially heightened senses, and also the fact that she was really bad at spying. Like, he literally saw her ducking behind a trash can, once. Whoever among their enemies had got to her, they obviously hadn’t given her much in the way of instruction, before they sent her to work. Maybe it was a blackmail job.

Either way, if she was under hostile influence, she was now a threat to the group, and it was his duty to get to the bottom of it. It’d be better not to alert the others, yet, in case anyone else was compromised, so he’d be going this one alone. Besides, it wasn’t as if he needed help handling one little teenaged girl.

That night, after supper, he took a walk around the general area of the group’s rooms, making sure he was clearly seen, then faded into the shadows, to lie in wait for the spy. Three minutes and seventeen seconds later, he heard stealthy footsteps coming down the walk.

Tch. Amateur. She didn’t disguise her gait, control her breathing, or even try to mask her scent. When she passed the dark space between the buildings, she was playing with her phone, pretending to be looking at it, but glancing stealthily about, obviously looking for her target.

In less time than it takes for a human heart to beat once, a whirl of crimson whipped out of the narrow alley, silently engulfed the young woman, and vanished. Behind the building, in the deep shadows, Aerith suddenly found herself pinned against a brick wall, with the big triple-barrel of Cerberus pressed to her throat.

“Scream and it will be the last sound you make in this life,” Vincent said, in a low, menacing snarl (which was just his usual voice but slightly quieter). “Who are you working for?”

“Mr. Valentine?” Aerith replied, in a normal, conversational tone, looking at his face, rather than the gun, for which he had to inwardly applaud her cool-headedness under duress. “What are you doing lurking around in the alley?”

The hammer clicked back. “A name, Ms. Gainsborough. Or I paint this wall with your—”

“Oh, please, you’re not going to kill me,” she laughed (Actually laughed! At him!!). “If you were, you’d have cut my throat or strangled me right away, instead of trying to scare me with your very loud gun, with all our friends right within hearing distance.”

He wrapped his other hand around her neck and holstered the weapon. “You’re right. There are plenty of ways to kill you quietly. Answer the question. Who are you working for? How did they get to you? Are they blackmailing you? Holding someone hostage? If so, why did you not come to us for help, rather than betray us?”

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” She eyed him doubtfully. “Are you…feeling ok, Mr. Valentine?”

“I am never feeling ok. That is beside the point. You have been following me and spying on me, for five days. You appear to be recording my movements and reporting them to someone. I also saw you take several photographs of me and Cid Highwind, when you believed yourself to be unobserved.”

Her eyes went wide. “Eh? You saw tha—I mean, I have no idea what you mean! You have no right to interrogate me! I want a lawyer!”

“A lawyer? I am not with the police, Ms. Gainsborough. In case you forgot…I’m a monster.” As he said this, he leaned closer, baring his sharp canine teeth, and letting his irises flash brilliant crimson-gold, in the darkness of the alleyway.

“Ooh, that was so cool!” Aerith breathed. “Wow, you’re really sexy, Mr. Valentine.”

Vincent choked and actually took a step back, letting go of her neck, from sheer astonishment. “What are you—that’s not—how can a nice young lady like yourself use such a word, so casually!”

“What, sexy? You really have been living in a coffin, haven’t you. Times have changed. Nice young ladies like me can say and think and do whatever we want. That includes thinking you’re sexy and telling you so. Not that I’m into you! Even if I swung that way, you’re like a million years too old for me, yuck.”

When she said that last bit, she laughed and stuck her tongue out, with a little shudder of disgust, to which Vincent took great umbrage. He was old, sure, but he didn’t look old. He looked pretty good, he thought. Anyway, he definitely wasn’t worthy of a shudder.

Also, how did this tiny girl flip the situation around on him, so fast! Saying all these bizarre things and confusing him! On top of that, she wasn’t even a little bit scared of him! That hurt his pride even more than the shudder, and he became morose.

“As I was saying, you’ve got the situation all wrong,” Aerith informed him, flipping her braid over her shoulder. “I mean, yeah…maybe I was spying on you a little. But that was for my own reasons. No one got to me and I’m not betraying anyone. I’m actually your ally, here. Maybe the only one you have.”

Vincent was hiding in his collar, with his arms crossed sullenly, glowering down at her from the shadow of his black bangs. “What nonsense are you talking? What do you mean, ally?”

“Let’s just say, I represent a certain community, of very devoted, extremely supportive enthusiasts, who take a special interest in…gentlemen such as yourself.”

This was definitely some kind of trick, to trip him up, but he couldn’t see the hook yet. Better play along, for now. “Such as myself, in what way?”

“Gentlemen who, you know,” she winked suggestively, which nearly sent him stumbling back another step, “prefer the company of other gentlemen.”

“I prefer no one’s company,” he growled. “Try again.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Not even…Mr. Highwind’s?”

What the hellfire? What did she know?? Would he have to kill her, after all?!

“I can tell by the look on your…forehead, that you know what I’m talking about,” the infuriating and deeply bewildering young woman continued. “It’s also clear from my observations, that no one else knows. And that, if it’s left up to you, he never will. That is where your dearly devoted fujoshi sisters come in.”

This was obviously an attempt to baffle him with more gibberish. Vincent’s hand was already on Cerberus’ stock again. “You’re stalling. So, you have backup coming. You think they can kill me, before I kill you?”

“Seriously, tone down the drama, Mr. Valentine. I’m trying to tell you I want to help you. Look, I’ll show you.” She pulled her phone out and held it up so he could look at the screen. “This is our server. These are all sisters—that’s what we call our members. Each channel is devoted to a different ship, but we encourage multi-shipping and no ship hate is allowed, whatsoever.”

“Channel? Ship? You like…nautical engineering?” Vincent attempted, utterly at a loss.

“Ship is short for relationship. The Fujo-Friends server is dedicated to fanship of the MLM variety.”

He blinked stupidly at the screen, as she scrolled through what she called a channel. It looked like a group chat, sort of like the one their party used on the phone, but it was made up of far more participants.

They all had little cartoon avatars, and inexplicable names, like ‘Mrs. Genesis’ and ‘disco slut kadaj’ and ‘sefikurafan’ and ‘rudeXlovesXreno’, and even a ‘Sephiroth’s Daddy’ which he did not like, at all. Messages were popping up, constantly, and they seemed to be talking about…

Vincent’s head spun, and he had to lean on the wall, to catch his breath. He had literally never seen so many euphemisms for that crucial part of the male anatomy, in his life. He didn't even know most of them, before.

How…how could all of those people talk so openly about these things? How could they all care enough about total strangers, to say so many weird and perverse (and also a lot of very sweet and supportive) things, about them? How could they know so much more about that kind of thing than he did?!

He passed a hand over his brow. “You, and all these other women…you talk about men, having…sexual relationships, with other men? Why?”

“Oh, it’s not just women,” Aerith chirped. “We welcome sisters of all genders. Why do we do it? For a ton of reasons. Mostly because it’s fun, but honestly, a lot of us are just sick of the heteronormative status-quo getting pushed on us in every form of media, and want to imagine more people in happy, queer relationships. I mean, there are toxic ships, too, but those are strictly for the sake of hotness. We don’t condone any abusive or unhealthy relationships, IRL.”

Vincent shook his head helplessly. “I—I don’t know what any of those words mean.”

“It’s ok, that’s why I offered to help you. You don’t seem to know what you’re doing in that area. Like, at all.”

“What I’m doing in which area?”

“Well…you like Mr. Highwind, right?”

“If you already know, why do you keep asking,” Vincent returned crossly.

“Good! The first step is talking about your crush to a trusted friend,” Aerith encouraged.

“Who said you were a trusted—”

“As for the other steps, a socially challenged but otherwise high-spec man, like you, is just the kind of person who could benefit from the sisters’ help! Don’t worry, I won’t put you on the server, or anything. Unless you want me to.” Vincent’s glare intensified. “Ok, I’ll take that as a no. What I can do for you, is act as your relationship consultant. With the input of the sisters, of course. The Fujo-Friends will help you make a plan to get your man!”

Vincent nodded. “I’m leaving. Goodnight.”

“No, no, wait!” Aerith said, stepping hastily in front of him. “Just hear me out, ok? I know this all probably seems ridiculous to you, but…I can’t stand seeing you so sad, Mr. Valentine. You’re a good person, and you’ve survived through so much. You deserve happiness. You deserve love. And I deserve to see you and Mr. Highwind together.”

“A good person.” His lip curled in a sneer, which was totally lost on Aerith, as it did so behind his collar. “What could possibly have lead you to believe that about me? Do good people live in coffins in the basements of disused bioengineering facilities?”

“They do if they’re trying to protect other people from something. I know your story. What happened to you. And I know all you’ve done is help people, since you went underground. You’re even helping us, now. So…let me help you, a little. Consider it a thank you, for being on the team.”

Vincent withdrew gloomily into his cloak again (like a turtle retracting into its shell, which was far more adorable than he realized or he’d never do it again), and said nothing. But he didn’t say no. The moment he failed to say no, he handed Aerith the reins.

“Great! So excited to get started!” She clapped her hands delightedly and bounced up and down, like a child. “I'll message you tomorrow morning, with the details!”

Vincent sighed heavily. “Alright.”

He was still in a daze, musing on how he’d even gotten into this mess, when he found himself back in his room. It was…something of a relief, to be honest. He had no idea how to ask for help and wouldn’t have accepted it, if it was offered.

But if it was urgently pressed upon him, what choice did he have? He couldn’t hurt Ms. Gainsborough’s feelings, after she’d been so kind as to reach out to him. Aside from Cid, she was the first one in the group to speak directly to him, excluding strictly necessary communication.

Also, he had a sneaking suspicion that this small girl could be scarier than Sephiroth, if she took a mind to, and he had no desire to find out if he was correct.

link to it on my ao3 just in case you want to leave me a nice comment. or a mean one fuck it bring it on

[neonsbian]

what are YOU doing lmao, she’s tryna help YOU

[catboyidia]

https://youtu.be/r2j3hwgbhCY?feature=shared

This scene from friends but asg/zc

i can actually like vividly imagine something like this happening to them??? like genesis and cloud running into each other while cloud’s looking for the condoms. i think genesis probably gets excited for cloud and happily gives him the condom, but just freezes as he realizes its the last one. then poor genesis is just stuck between how proud he is of cloud and being ready to fight to the death for the condom. meanwhile sephiroth and angeal run into zack while waiting for genesis and the three are stuck waiting on them together, zack gets stuck awkwardly trying to make conversation with angeal and sephiroth. genesis decides to try to bribe cloud, offering up nearly everything he possibly can only for cloud to refuse it all. genesis losing at rock paper scissors and begrudgingly letting cloud have it, but he is absolutely going to bother cloud for any gossip the next day… it all makes so much sense in my head…

[gojoest]

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

[justaz]

country bumpkin merlin not knowing anything about city life and accidentally courting arthur without knowing

merlin, watching gwen give lancelot her favor: why do you do that

gwen, heart eyes at lance and not paying that much attention to the conversation: so he knows i’m rooting for him

merlin, with an Idea: ah.

gwaine, lover of chaos, pisser offer of nobles and royals alike, ultimate wingman: merlin…you have such lonely lips. shall i introduce them to mine?

merlin, unaware of the game gwaine is playing: so you can steal my breath away? i think not, scoundrel

arthur, crushing his goblet in his hand:

merlin: arthur’s been in a bad mood recently :( i should cheer him up

merlin, remembering when arthur was put out when merlin brought morgana flowers and not him: i know just the thing

merlin, bringing a bouquet of carnations, roses, and tulips and setting them on arthur’s table while he’s eating breakfast: good morning, sire

arthur, trained on flower language in hopes that one day when he was to take a queen he could woo her easily, trying not to audibly choke on his sausage as he reads merlin’s declaration of love sitting in front of him:

arthur, who recently found out about merlin’s magic and was trying to find a way to bring it up, catching him in the act and watching merlin panic to explain himself:

merlin, Freaking: and i swear to you arthur, i have only ever used it for you. my magic is yours. my life is yours. i am yours. i would never do anything to harm you. i have protected you for years and will continue to do so at your side if you’ll have me

arthur, already believing them to be courting, desperately trying to figure out if that was a proposal for marriage or not but tired of being confused and deciding fuck it: here.

merlin, taking it: i…uh…huh?

arthur, watching merlin with hawk eyes and trying to figure out what he’s thinking and feeling: it’s my mothers sigil

merlin, confused as FUCK but is focusing on the fact that arthur is handing him something of his mother rather than a death sentence: my…my lord?

arthur, realizing how scared merlin’s must be about him finding out about his magic and trying to comfort him while also proposing, killing two birds with one stone: i will always keep you at my side, merlin, so long as we both shall live. if you’ll allow me.

merlin, almost collapsing with relief and tearing up, smiling at arthur as if he had parted the storm clouds to allow sun to shine down on them in that moment: of course…of course, arthur. always and forever.

merlin, watching the castle staff rush this way and that: wow. this banquet must be incredibly important

sir leon the long suffering, day one ride or die, one of the original merthur shippers: banquet? merlin, this is for your wedding

merlin, overworked and exhausted: my WHAT? to WHO??

leon, regretting everything he’s ever done in his life that led him to this moment: to…arthur?

merlin, over joyed but also absolutely befuddled: i’m getting married to ARTHUR?????

leon: you two have been courting for the past year or so, have you not?

merlin: i’ve been COURTING ARTHUR?????? FOR A YEAR?????????

[redcherrykook]

──𐙚 working on love - business party!

────୨ৎ────

content: fluff, kinda silce of life, company party, mutual pining, alcohol mentioned, bestie Jimin is a wingman for em, smoking together, some cutesy kissing, Jk speaking in satoori mentioned

note from cherry: I´m tired of writing smut so here´s this request without smut.. sorry cloud anonie! ily!!!!,,,,this might get a pt2 if you guys want!!

────୨ৎ────

This is the best night you´ve had for a while. A tight, rather modest cream dress, hours spend on that flowy blowout and natural, brown toned make up all sum up the immediate glow radiating from your figure- glowing, for what seems to be the first time after ending that draining relationship.

Wooyoung was a good guy in the beginning. A gentleman inside the crowd modern day Elvis's, someone who did all the smooth talking, picking you up with a boquet and your favorite food, someone who would have bought you the moon if you asked him too.

Similar to how prominent and illuminated tonights moon hangs up so high in the sky, his love dim, not necessarily bright or precisely large- nonetheless, still it felt as thought he was the single source of hope in a darkness you grew comfortable in,

Wooyoungs love never felt raw- like love. apart from there being small muffled butterflies inside your stomach, there was nothing that exceeded any and all expectations you had set, nothing that breached the occasional warmth in your heart when he had once again bought the same boquet.

You had simply swallowed that down, accepting that the hunger you've been yearning for must be yet another illusion that TV has instilled in the minds of vulnerable women, longing for betterment within their limits of fulfilment

Soon enough, even that small light suffocated in your tight hold, you find out that asking for him to stay respectful and loyal seemed to have been too much. He couldn´t keep his promises and when he stopped being present, it only took so much to figure out why.

"Another glass?" he raises his eyebrow, leaning the grey colored, suited body of his against the counter,

you throw back half the glass of champagne, the third one this past hour. Arguably, too much in too little time for a coorprate work party held for networking,

"yes Jimin, i swear I´ll stop after this one" the city lights twinkle from below- from this 12th floor panorama window, even the biggest cars and buildings look small, people become anonymous figures, they loose their character,

become insignificant.

"you´re lying through your teeth" the blonde coworker says, Jimin could read you like a book; from coworkers to friends and quickly, there was nothing too personal to share with him.

His bright smile could never make you get too mad at him when he reported back all of his drunken mistakes and hook ups,

Alcohol brings out the best in people,

and the worst out of the good people

your head turns back to him, leaving the city to continue behind you,

"I know, i just need to breathe a bit"

"with workplace booze? come on"

his chuckle lights up the mood a little bit, "okay, just don´t embarrass us" he says, patting your back as if to reassure his statement

you promise him not to, moving a strand to the side of your face as he gives you a half smile, wandering off to what you presume to be the buffet.

While staring at your chrome nails tapping away at the small glass, the loud chattering from around you fades out briefly, almost as if everyone had completely gone silent,

thats when you spot him; another star emerges,

another radiant glow, you could see him clearer than any other person around, not because he´s tall- broad shoulders and parted, short hair peeking out from the people around- no, he shone like no other

Blurred out the countless voices and handsome faces that thralled around him, almost as if his presence screamed of his arrival, announcing himself as a starlight without even catching a tone of his voice- a glimmer of how he would pronounce your name,

No knowledge of his own unique one, in a strange way, he tugs at something wihin you- a spot you had only discovered now, as if you had met him in a past life or, rather as if you were supposed to see him

Jungkook´s breath gets choked up within his throat,

almost as if the collegues around all parted to make way for you- to reveal your purity, your radiance to him, his eyes land on you like fate,

it must have been fate, seeing you smile slightly with that glass in your hand, before turning your head back to the panorama window,

he watches your bouncy hair move in slow motion, the glitter on your dress sparkles under the warm, dim light of the confrence room,

The curves of your face resonate with him like a painting you see in a museum, only that you had known that painting before- you'd seen it, this being the first you could feel it, feel its vibrant colors meet your eyes in a fight of admiration and anxiety

"wow" his best mate whispers, hitting him in the side with his elbow,

suddenly, everything returns to normal, humans clouding the line of sight to what he must have deemed an angel, he almost sighs in disappointment, still, your glow reflects on the ceiling, disappearing as you also get lost within the crowd yourself, hiding behind the facade of a regular office worker

"what?" he speaks, turning his attention back on his friend who has an impressed smile clutching the contoures of his face,

"what? dude, you were literally standing here with your jaw on the floor"

Jungkook rolls his eyes, "at least i had my eyes on her face you asshole"

Taehyung makes a face that resembles the expression "fair enough", looking between the huddle of people to try and spot you once more,

To no avail, in fact, he wouldn't have been able to, given you had slipped off right away, fetching for another glass of champagne and your emotional support blonde

Despite the chatter that swallows any small sound not relate to business, you can hear your heels clicking around frantically, thinking for any reason to get out of the room with him, any excuse you could deem plausible, until you end up on something that is undeniably so ordinary, it might even be true

In dire need of a whim of fresh air- a cooling breeze on your skin and definitely, in much more predictable nature, in dire need of a cigarette, you attempt to find him, ask him for a quick smoke break before resuming to the party

When you do find Jimin,it seems somebody familiar also did

Somebody who shouldn't feel magnetic, forcefully pulling you into their space,

Jimin's eye smile upon seeing you catches the two men around him off guard, whipping their heads to your direction swiftly,

his eyes land on yours, you can barely make out jimin's arm extending to wave in slow motion, as your eyes become chained to his,

His gaze becomes devoted to you, with every mindless step you take forward, it feeds he look in his eyes, strengthens the chain you've tangled yourself in with

"hey, where have you been y/n?" he asks, smacking your shoulder in an very unprofessional attempt to make your guy's relationship clear,

Jimin wasn't stupid, even he could feel how tense it had gotten,

"Y/n? Thats a pretty name"

You weren't supposed to know how he pronounces your name, he was destined to stay a fantasy,

"Thank you..?"

"Jungkook"

"you're the one with the nice name, Jungkook"

effortlessly, the syllables of his name roll of your tongue,

It send shivers to his body, jimin's eyes are burning a whole through the side of your face and you know it- you know he's aware how much this wasn't planned-

You weren't supposed to feel attraction like this, not to the intensity that ever movie you had seen creeped back up in a matter of seconds, instantly resuming that hopeful flame to burn once more, igniting not only fear- but need

Your eyes avert to the man in the black suit next to him,

"And your name?"

Jungkook's eyes still haven't left yours, awaiting their turn patiently, a lump in his throat grabbing at all rationality, begging for a chance to speak his mind- tell you that you're an angel- one he must have, must hold

For some strange reason,

Even though jungkook swore love was for the books, not for people like him

And even though a couple minutes of anyone's presence is far too little to utter the word love in the first place, he also knew it was inescapable the second you had granted him a smile

"Taehyung" he answers, sliding his hands into his pockets

"You're from wonder group right?" Jimin asks, returning the conversation back to the nuisance that your lame 9-5 is,

The two guys hum, Jungkook reponds first,

"Yeah. Came here because we were invited by the manager of your media department"

"Well, actually not we specifically were invited, everyone was" Taehyung chimes in,

"Media department? Thats.."

"Me. Wow, what a coincidence"

you freeze after your last statement - thinking foolishly, that meeting him maybe was supposed to happen - maybe when your fingers tiredly typed away at the keyboard when sending your invitation, you had to have laced it with a spell

It confirms what he had thought upon seeing your glow in the crowd of dull faces and grey tints,

Fate, you must be his fate

Jimin taps away at the wine glass in his hand, one you haven't caught notice of since your eyes had been occupied by someone who stood closer than a stranger should feel comfortable with,

In a desperate attempt to do something- anything about this encounter, you shoot jimin a look, a look that says help me, rescue me

"Do you smoke?" he asks, earning a nod from your mysterious soulmate and a very serious "nah" from his friend,

breathless, you manage to let out a small hum

"Let's go for one, tae are you good with waiting here a bit man?" Jungkook suggests, breaching out to ways he never knew he even possessed, ways to get you closer- to get to know a unreasonably familiar stranger no reason

other than having every single reason,

Taehyung nods, quickly, the three of you go outside the big glass door, finding a small spot behind the building to avoid any other, personal space invading collegue that might roam around for small talk

It didn't make sense, not even in the slightest when Jimin disappeared after saying he would go get the lighter he had forgotten, especially not when you had just lit your cigarette with one, perfectly working lighter

Jungkook caught on, laughing slightly at your friends attempt to leave you to a collective solitude, the fresh, 11 pm gust of wind feels like a gentle kiss to the face, almost like what you imagine him to feel like

You shouldn't be imagining that at all,

His head turns away from yours when he takes a drag, pushing the thick nicotine cloud out into the pure night,

You do the same, letting the bitter taste overtake your cherry flavored lip balm,

"Didn't know pretty girls smoke" he says, his deep voice thickly laced with a satoori you haven't remarked until this very sentence,

smiling at his sincerity, you take another drag, "didn't know busan men are this bold"

he doesn't feel like a stranger, far more comfortable than one- far less intimidating

"How did you know?" the small smirk on his lips forms into a gentle, bunny like smile once seeing that dead panned look on your face, merging with a hidden chuckle that manages to dominate your features in the end,

"Your satoori" you answer, watching as his plump lips wrap around the cigarette, he blows the smoke out, "hmm" he says, "do you like it?"

"A lot" truthfully, your answer tumbles out, scanning his response with a longing look on your face, the lit drug burns away between your fingers, forgotten, discarded by a much stronger one that's about 5'10 with an eyebrow piercing

"Glad to hear that, sweetheart " it slips past his lips, naturally yet simultaneously intentional- just like the way he makes sure to lay on his accent nicely

His cigarette bud drops to the floor, he puts it out, then turning to be stood in front of you, smiling softly with a newfound gentleness to his seductive appeal,

"You're beautiful, i mean that. I saw you earlier and i honestly couldn't stop thinking about you. I was going crazy looking for you"

he laughs slightly at the last bit, shyly toying with the metal ring at the corner of his bottom lip, the adrenaline of your sheer beauty and captivating allure overcoming and reluctance he would usually feel held back by, nothing could stop him from talking to the angel he had become keen on,

Your blush deepness, eyes flickering down to his lips, "thank you, i couldn't get my mind off of you either. Didn't know you were looking for me"

his slender fingers reach forward, moving a flowing strand behind your ear with ease before carefully caressing the side of your cheek with his knuckle, tender- soft, as if he had known not to apply pressure to your fragile heart and mind,

"Of course i was. Call me crazy but i swear you were glowing" both of you grin stupidly, you relish in the feeling of his plam flattening against your cheek, embracing it with care- he waited, waited for you to stop him, for you to tell him he's a crazy creep that needs to learn the meaning of a boundary

But you never do, instead, you silently thank him for his honesty, telling yourself he must be your soulmate,

That the television must have been right about love,

your shaky, cold hands lace with his deeply colored hair, fingers dancing between the locs as his breath hitches, getting closer on your face,

your eyes connect briefly, then your lips do too, longer- intertwined with a bond you knew exist from the very first second,

a bond that was so simple it couldn't be explained, so simple, it only took one look to determine it's existance

The nicotine on his lips melts with your cherry lip balm and own, bitter taste, pressing along the soft pillows of your love drunken lips, he thought about love for a moment,

Jungkook now knew that the books were always written about people like him

[aquaticmercy]

Of Heroes and Heartstrings (Part Three)

Summary : Bucky Barnes develops a crush on the researcher who interviewed him. After inviting her to board game night, he takes her on a second date.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her) (The reader works in academia and is writing about superheroes and how they perceive themselves in the 21st century)

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Slight cursing. Sex is implied. Yelena and Sam being annoying. 

Requested by :  myself again

Word count : 2.4k + 200ish-word bonus epilogue.

Note : This is the final part! I loved writing on this, and will definitely think of writing longer series in the future. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Requests are open!

The next morning, Bucky was barely awake when the pounding on his apartment door started.

“Open up, Barnes!” Yelena said from the hallway, loud and insistent. He groaned, rolling over and covering his head with a pillow, hoping they’d give up. No such luck.

“I know you’re in there!” Sam chimed, sounding just as persistent.

Bucky cursed under his breath, reluctantly pushing himself out of bed and stumbling out. 

As he opened the door, the cool morning air swept into his apartment, carrying the scent of coffee his friends had bought for him. Sam's grin widened, while Yelena immediately pushed her way in. 

The familiar, chaotic energy the two brought with them was like a damn alarm clock that couldn’t be snoozed. Despite his outward grumbling, a part of Bucky felt… happy. 

For someone who had spent so many years isolated, these intrusions had become a comforting reminder that he wasn’t alone.

“You guys need hobbies,” Bucky grumbled, he had barely gotten any sleep after last night. Between replaying the almost-kiss and mentally planning the second date, his mind hadn’t been able to shut off.

Yelena placed the coffee on the counter, while Sam leaned against the island kitchen with a smirk. 

“So…how’d it go?” Sam asked, curios.

Bucky shot him a glare, walking over to the coffee that had brought. He took a long sip before answering, knowing there was no getting out of this. “It went fine.”

“Fine?” Yelena hopped to sit on his counter. “I saw you all touchy-feely all night. Are you expecting us to believe that you dropped her off and came home?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, unaffected. “That’s exactly what I did.”

Sam snorted. “I call bullshit. I saw how you looked at her during Monopoly—you had hearts for eyes. Come on, man, give us something. Did you even kiss her?”

Bucky’s silence was telling. 

Yelena’s eyes widened in disbelief. “No. way.” She said, her Russian accent dripping from her mouth.

“I didn’t,” Bucky admitted, his cheeks warming at the thought. “We just had tea.”

Yelena blinked. “Tea?”

“Is tea code for something?” Sam repeated incredulously. 

Bucky shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee. “We talked. It was nice.”

Sam looked at Yelena like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yelena nodded. “Oh this is real. He’s not playing around. This is real.”

“Look,” Bucky said, “She said she doesn’t kiss on the first date. I respect that. But there’s going to be a second date.”

Sam’s eyes lit up. “When?”

Bucky grumbled under his breath, scratching the back of his neck. “Two days.”

Yelena smirked. “You better kiss her then, Barnes, or I’ll do it for you.”

Bucky shot her a look. “Not helping.”

Sam, ever the wingman, reassured him. “You got this.”

Yelena leaned back on the counter with a satisfied grin. “And if you screw it up, we’ll hear about it the morning after.”

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips. 

As much as they teased him, it felt good knowing they cared.

—

Standing outside your door, Bucky’s heart raced in his chest.

The bouquet in his hand felt heavier than it should have. His leather jacket felt stiff, and he tugged at the sleeves out of habit, hoping to ease the tension in his muscles. 

When you opened the door, all the thoughts that had been clouding his thoughts vanished in an instant. 

You stood there in a simple but stunning dress, your hair falling perfectly into place. 

Your smile lit up the hallway, and for a moment, all he could do was stare. 

You looked beautiful, but he already knew that. 

“Hey you,” you said softly, stepping out into the hallway.

“Hey yourself,” he breathed out as he held out the flowers. I’ve got to stop overthinking this, he told himself, trying to fight the heat creeping up his cheeks.

You took them, your fingers brushing against his. “Bucky, they’re beautiful.”

He gave a small, relieved smile. “I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers you liked, so I just—"

“I love them,” you interrupted him from his anxious train of thoughts, smiling up at him. “You ready to go?”

—

The restaurant was even more lovely than Bucky had hoped. The warm lighting gave the small space an intimate glow, casting soft shadows on your surroundings. 

The quiet hum of conversations around you created a sense of privacy, as though the world outside didn’t exist. You sat across from him, leaning forward slightly as you asked for his most embarrassing stories. 

Bucky chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. The heat from the candle between you flickered, radiating your smile. 

"Okay, okay," he sighed dramatically, but the laughter in his eyes gave him away. "But you better share some of yours too."

"Deal," you agreed with a wink.

He leaned back in his chair, thinking for a moment. "Alright, here’s one. I was way too old when I found out the tooth fairy wasn’t real."

You blinked at him, then giggled. "Wait, how old are we talking here?"

Bucky’s grin widened, and he looked a little sheepish. "Like… fourteen."

Your eyes went wide, and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter. "Fourteen?! How did that even happen?"

Bucky shrugged, chuckling. "I don’t know, I just… didn’t question it. I’d lose a tooth, and a dollar would show up under my pillow. Magic or whatever."

“Oh my God, Bucky, fourteen?!” You were stifling a laugh so hard you could barely catch your breath. "Did anyone ever try to tell you?"

"My ma did, actually," he said, shaking his head at the memory. "She sat me down and said, ‘James, there’s something we need to talk about.’ I thought I was in trouble. Then she just blurted it out— I was crushed."

"You must’ve felt so betrayed,”  you laughed, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. 

He smiled. "Yeah, a little."

“That’s adorable.” You shook your head, still grinning. "I’m never letting you live that down."

"Fair enough," he said with a chuckle, leaning forward slightly. "Now. Your turn.”

You took a deep breath, gathering yourself. You told him a story about how you used to get in so much trouble as a kid, how you injured yourself every now and then. 

As you told your stories, Bucky found himself completely mesmerized—not by the little anecdotes, but by the way the sound of your voice made everything sound so fascinating.

The conversation eventually drifted from light-hearted teasing to deeper topics, both of you sharing bits of yourselves you hadn’t before. 

Bucky found himself laughing more than he had in a long time, and you seemed just as captivated. You leaned in every time he spoke, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

As the night began to wind down, neither of you were in a rush to leave. Eventually, after paying the bill, Bucky stood and helped you into your coat, his hand lingering on your back for just a second longer than necessary.

The walk after was filled with soft conversation, with no particular destination in mind. 

The city lights reflected in the puddles on the sidewalk, your arm brushing against Bucky’s every now and again.

Bucky found himself watching you a little longer than he should, memorising the way your face looked when you were lost in thought. The gentle glow of moonlight wrapped like a blanket around you both.

He slowly reached out, taking your hand in his. You smiled up at him, squeezing your interlocked fingers. There was something perfect about everything —natural, unforced, as if the world was giving him permission to just enjoy this fleeting moment.

The streetlamp overhead flickered slightly as you stopped for a brief moment, turning to face him. The soft, golden light casted a gentle halo around you, illuminating the curve of your smile.

“I had a great time,” you said, your voice quiet, but your eyes full of warmth.

“Me too,” Bucky replied, his heart pounding a little faster than it should.

The world seemed to grow quieter, as though it knew something was about to happen. Bucky stood there, his heart pounding against his ribs like it had on the first date. He could feel the gravity of the moment pulling him closer to you, his breath hitching as you took a half-step toward him, your face tilted up. His gaze flicked down to your lips, and then back to your eyes.

This time, when Bucky leaned in, you didn’t stop him. His lips hovered over yours once again, soft and tentative at first, testing the waters. He pulled away before he could kiss you. “Do you want to head back to my apartment?”

Oh, that little tease. 

You nodded, feeling that familiar flutter in your chest. 

—

Once you and Bucky reached his place, the air around you was shrouded with anticipation. 

“You want something to drink?” Bucky asked, trying to ease the nervous chills creeping up on him.

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” you replied, offering him a soft smile.

He gave you a nod and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you to take in your surroundings. His apartment was just like him—cosy but strong, dark with hidden depth. 

Bucky leaned against the kitchen doorframe, watching you from across the room as you absentmindedly touched the spines of his old books. There was something surreal about seeing you in his space, like you belonged there. 

His apartment had always felt a little too quiet, a little too bare. With you, it felt complete— alive. 

Then it struck him: just how much he wanted this— not the moment, not the date, but you, and how you represented the kind of connection that made him feel like he was truly home. 

He finally handed you a glass of sparkling water. “I don’t have any fancy tea,” he said with a small laugh, his eyes flicking to yours, checking to see if you were comfortable.

“This is perfect,” you reassured him, sipping from the glass. You both settled on the couch, not quite touching yet.

For a while, you just talked. The conversation was easy, the kind that made you feel like you were learning something new about each other every minute— you talked about your studies, talked about how the interview with Clint went yesterday. He told you about his latest mission, and how he was waiting for his next. 

There were moments where Bucky would say something that would make you laugh, your hand brushing his arm without thinking, and you’d catch the way his eyes softened with affection.

As the conversation slowed, the silence between you was anything but empty. It felt heavy with with the tension that had been building since the moment you walked through the door. 

Bucky’s heart was pounding so loudly in his ears that he almost missed the way you whispered, “You can kiss me now.” 

His eyes widened, and for a split second, he hesitated. But when he saw your breath hitch, and he saw the way your eyes fluttered closed, your lips slightly parted, and all his hesitation melted away. 

He leaned in slowly, savoring every second before his lips met yours. Finally, he felt the softness of your lips against his, the warmth of your body pressed close.

He pulled you closer, his metal hand resting on the small of your back. It felt like the world had disappeared, leaving the two of you tangled in a movie that neither of you wanted to end.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath a little shaky. The soft glow from the nearby lamp casted gentle shadows on your face.

He moved back slightly, just enough to see your eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low and sincere. He could barely believe what was happening.

A soft laugh escaped your mouth, and you pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “And you’re perfect,” you murmured, the words full of affection and admiration. 

“Far from perfect,” he replied, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.  

“Feels pretty perfect right now,” you teased.

He grinned, and before you could say another word, he pressed his lips against yours again. This time it was soft, but with more certainty, like he was tasting every drop of you.

You both smiled into the kiss, unable to help the giddiness within.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Bucky admitted in between kisses.

You whispered, “How long?”

His thumb traced the edge of your jaw. “The week after our interview? I went to the same cafè every day hoping I’d run into you. And I did.” he said with a sheepish smile.

You recalled that moment you were pleasantly surprised to find him there. He had played it off so casually, saying he just liked the coffee. That day, you ended up talking over coffee for two hours, both of you oblivious to each other’s intentions.

You felt your heart flutter, the weight of his words wrapping around you like a blanket. “Me too,” you confessed, your voice almost shy. “I’ve had a crush on you since the interview. I just… never thought you’d feel the same.”

Bucky’s eyes softened, the icy blue of his eyes filled with nothing but warmth. “You have no idea,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours again to prove just how wrong you were.

The kisses got more heated as your hands slid up to rest on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart beneath your palms. 

His hands found your waist, pulling you closer.

Bucky’s lips trailed from your mouth to your jawline, then to the sensitive spot just below your ear. 

You shivered, a quiet sigh escaping your lips.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and he responded with a soft groan.

The kisses became more intense, his mouth claiming yours again. The space between you seemed to disappear entirely. 

When he finally fully pulled back, both of you were breathless. 

His voice was low when he asked, “Do you… want to stay the night?”

“Of course,” you whispered without hesitation, your voice steady and sure.

The smile that spread across Bucky’s face was a mix of relief and desire. He pressed one more soft kiss to your lips, his hand lingering on your waist.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt just right.

—

Epilogue : 

The next morning, the sun was barely peeking through the curtains when the pounding on Bucky’s door started again.

You stirred under the covers, blinking sleepily as you registered what was happening. Bucky groaned beside you, burying his face into the pillow.

You laughed softly, sliding out of bed. “I’ve got this,” you whispered, grabbing the first thing you could find—one of Bucky’s old shirts—and pulling it over your head. It was too big on you, the fabric hanging just past your thighs. 

The pounding on the door continued. Did Bucky order something? It must be mail, right?

You sleepily trudged out of the bedroom towards the front door and opened it. Yelena and Sam froze mid-knock, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Oh,” Sam said, his eyebrows shooting up. 

Yelena’s jaw loosened, “that was unexpected.”

You leaned casually against the doorframe, crossing your arms with a tired smile. “Good morning to you too.”

Yelena broke into a grin. “the second date went well?”

Before you could answer, Bucky’s groggy voice called from the bedroom. “Who’s at the door?”

“Your nosy friends,” you called back with a chuckle.

Bucky appeared behind you, rubbing a hand over his face. “Can you two not?” he grumbled, clearly still half-asleep.

Sam pointed at you again, now looking between you and Bucky. “You owe me 20!” He said to Yelena.

“Settle your bets somewhere else,” Bucky grumbled, though he could not stop the shy smile forming on his lips.

Yelena elbowed Sam. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll leave you alone... for now.”

As they walked away, Bucky quickly closed the door and wrapped you in his strong arms. 

You grinned, “I kinda really like your friends.”

-end

Taglist : @quiet-loser @hzdhrtss @intelligenceofapineapple @yujyujj @miriamnox @thecraziestcrayon

[daisyfieldrecs]

Jake Seresin Fics Pt. 2

This Sunday Is for My Girl| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @roosterforme

My Sunshine| One-Shot| Fluff| @hangmans-wingman

It's Not Me, It's You| One-Shot| Fluff, Implied Smut| @phoenixsbby

married?| One-Shot| Fluff| @captainamericasmotercycle

Friends| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @bradshawssugarbaby

is it too soon to do this yet?| One-Shot| Fluff| @purelyfiction

Break Up in a Small Town| One-Shot| Fluff| @chiaraanatra

Cop Car| One-Shot| Fluff| @chiaraanatra

Hurricane| One-Shot| Fluff| @chiaraanatra

Lover| One-Shot| Smut| @sorchathered

Today and Every Day| One-Shot| Fluff, Implied Smut| @sailor-aviator

Short Love| Series| Warnings in Each Chapter| @callsigns-haze

Stay in your lane| One-Shot| Fluff| @warnersister

The Love Game| One-Shot| Angst| @tip-top-cloud-surfer

Gray| One-Shot| Fluff, Angst| @tip-top-cloud-surfer

A Little Tag-a-Long| One-Shot| Fluff| @tip-top-cloud-surfer

Mav's Reaction to Each Dagger Dating His Daughter| One-Shot| Fluff| @tip-top-cloud-surfer

he doesn't| One-Shot| Fluff| @seresinhangmanjake

Jake and the Park| Blurb| Fluff| @sailor-aviator

Jake and a Surprise Pregnancy| Blurb| Fluff| @sailor-aviator

Not Your Type| Series| Warnings in Each Chapter| @seresinhangmanjake

so it goes| Series (maybe)| Fluff, Angst| @purelyfiction

The Nanny| Pt. 2| Pt. 3| Pt. 4| Series| Warnings in Each Chapter| @bobby-r2d2-floyd

Fine Line| One-Shot| Fluff, Angst| @thesewordsareallihavetogive

Got My Mind Set On You| One-Shot| Fluff, Implied Smut| @bradshawssugarbaby

Take Care Of Business| One-Shot| Fluff| @honkytonk-hangman

[frostbitebakery]

The other one was getting long

“What do your gorgeous baby blues see?”

Obi-Wan lets his middle finger speak, earning a chuckle from Quin. “Target, two clicks east,” he signs quick and efficient with one hand. Cody has been showing him the shortcut hand signals the clones have adapted from military and basic sign language. Obi-Wan has, in turn, shown him what one can do with the other hand not occupied with signing.

It has been rather eye opening, over all, how the clones deal with their lot in life.

Their cruel, drenched in suffering life, Obi-Wan thinks, and the leather of his glove squeaks with how hard he’s gripping the edge of the roof.

“Credit for your thoughts.”

Obi-Wan shakes himself out his own mind, focuses back on their mission. “When we’re back on Coruscant,” he signs, is pleased with Quin raising curious brows, “I want you to ask Commander Fox if he’s inclined to share tea with you.”

A pebble floats up from the ground and nails Obi-Wan in the side of his head. “I don’t need you to be my wingman.”

“You need someone with more flirting expertise than I can possibly provide to be your wingman, my friend.” The empty huff of a chuckle escapes him when Quin turns into a cloud of indignation. “I want you to shake him for information. Something isn’t right.”

“Target’s moving, just like planned,” Quin murmurs, keen eyes following the spice dealer. “Can’t you fuck your own Commander for intel? I heard he’s got a great ass from all the droid kicking.”

“He’s very stubborn,” he replies, fiddling the data pad out of his satchel. “Commander Fox is,” he hesitates, which isn’t a planned move, but it’s got Quin’s full attention now, “closer to a source I want to tap.”

And he’s lost Quin’s attention just like that. “Could you stop spinning conspiracies about the Chancellor? He’s a kind old man, beloved by all, bla bla.”

“He’s a politician. And I still don’t know what happened to Anakin—“ Fierce, sweet boy, could definitely hurt a fly. Obi-Wan had been gone for a month and he had come back to Ani tossed and turned by dark falsehoods.

“Depa and the mind healers have done a good job with that kid.”

Still. Coming back to Coruscant after long stretches is like being slowly sniffed out in the Force. His jaw aches like it hasn’t in a decade. “Talk with Fox, please.”

Quin sighs, rolls his neck, and flicks his chin at their target. “Come on, a spice lab is waiting for us.”

Together they step over the ledge, wind and gravity grabbing at them for twenty stories before the Force catches them.

[callsigns-haze]

You knew? Part 2 of 3

Part 1

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader! Callsign Ace

Chapter Summary: A week after Ace's near-fatal crash, she finally wakes up in the hospital, recovering from her injuries. Rooster, who has avoided seeing her since the email debacle, finally gathers the courage to visit her. Their conversation is tense and filled with unresolved emotions, as Ace confronts him about the betrayal she felt after discovering he was behind the anonymous flirtatious emails.

This chapter contains themes of emotional conflict, betrayal, and recovery from a near-death experience. Expect tense dialogue and unresolved emotions.

The sun cast a golden glow over the runway as the Daggers prepped for another intense day of training. Jets roared to life, ready to take off into the clear sky. The Dagger Squadron was assembled, but there was a noticeable shift in the air.

Ace, usually vibrant and at the centre of their group, had been distant for the past two months. Ever since the email incident, she’d cut ties with Rooster, Phoenix, not really Hangman as he was her wingman so she forgave him, steering clear of their usual hangouts at the Hard Deck and avoiding meals with the squad.

Now, she focused solely on her flying. Her interactions were brief, professional, and limited to the cockpit. As she strapped into her Dagger and prepared for the upcoming dogfight training, the silence between her and the rest of the squad was deafening. Today’s exercise was set: a mock dogfight in the air, with Ace flying solo against Coyote in his own Dagger, while Payback and Fanboy flew as a pair.

The jets ascended into the sky, climbing higher until the blue expanse stretched endlessly beneath them. The radio crackled with orders as they spread out, the simulated combat about to begin.

"All right, Ace, you’re up. Let’s see what you got," Coyote’s voice buzzed through the comms, a hint of competitive energy in his tone.

Ace’s eyes narrowed in concentration, her fingers gripping the controls as she scanned the sky for her opponents. She banked sharply to the left, cutting through the clouds as she trailed Coyote from above, attempting to line up her shot.

"You’ve gotta be quicker than that, Ace," Coyote taunted, pulling into a sharp climb to shake her off.

She smirked, pushing her Dagger to match his altitude, refusing to give him an inch. Behind them, Payback and Fanboy weaved through the air, keeping their distance while searching for an opening to strike.

The chase was fast and relentless. Ace and Coyote danced through the sky, trading sharp turns and evasive manoeuvres. The thrill of the hunt filled the airwaves, with each Dagger trying to gain the upper hand.

Then, without warning, Ace’s jet jolted.

"Warning: Engine failure. Malfunction detected," the voice in her cockpit announced in a cold, mechanical tone.

Her heart rate spiked as she checked her instruments. Something was wrong. The controls were sluggish, her jet unresponsive to her commands. She tried to stabilize, but the Dagger began to spiral out of control.

"Ace, what’s going on? You’re dropping altitude!" Coyote’s voice crackled over the radio.

She fought against the controls, panic clawing at her as the Dagger dipped into a sharp nosedive. The ground rushed toward her, but her body felt heavy, her vision blurring at the edges. She was slipping into G-LOC—G-force-induced loss of consciousness. Her breath became shallow, her body unable to react.

"Ace! You need to eject!" Payback’s voice boomed over the comms, urgency bleeding through the static.

But no one saw her eject. Her Dagger spiralled, falling faster as she lost the battle to stay conscious. On the ground, the entire squad was glued to the monitors, watching the terrifying descent. Rooster, Phoenix, Hangman, and the others stood frozen, their eyes trained on the screens, waiting for the tell-tale flash of her ejection.

But it never came.

"Come on, Ace… pull the damn handle!" Rooster muttered under his breath, his fingers white-knuckled around his headset.

"She’s not ejecting. Is she unconscious?" Phoenix asked, her voice tight with fear.

Coyote pulled his Dagger up beside Ace’s, trying to get a visual. But it was too late. Her jet continued to plummet, the altitude rapidly decreasing.

"Mayday, mayday!" Coyote called out, desperation lacing his voice as he watched helplessly.

From the ground, they saw her jet spiral down until it disappeared from the screen. Silence filled the control room, the team paralyzed with shock as the realization hit.

"Did she—" Hangman started, but his words were caught in his throat.

No one saw her eject.

Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback, who had been up in the sky with her, were immediately recalled back to base. The radio buzzed with orders.

"Coyote, Fanboy, Payback—return to base. Now," the voice over the comms was firm, but there was no mistaking the urgency.

"Roger that," Coyote responded, his voice unusually sombre. He felt a weight pressing against his chest. None of them had seen Ace eject, and the sinking realization of what that might mean gnawed at him as he flew back.

The three Daggers touched down swiftly, their wheels skidding across the runway as they taxied to a stop. Before they could even unstrap from their jets, the rest of the squad came running, concern etched on their faces.

Rooster was the first to reach Coyote, grabbing his flight suit as he yanked him toward him, eyes wide with fear and questions. "Did you see her eject? Did she make it out?"

Coyote shook his head, face grim. "I didn’t see anything. I tried to get close, but she wasn’t responding. I couldn’t—"

Rooster let him go, stumbling back slightly as his mind raced. "No... no, no, no..." he muttered under his breath. Phoenix and Hangman rushed to Fanboy and Payback, their faces pale, voices rapid with questions.

"How low was she?" Phoenix asked, her voice trembling. "Did she even have time?"

"She was already in a nosedive when I saw her," Fanboy said, his hands shaking slightly. "It happened so fast."

Payback wiped his face with his gloved hand, trying to steady his breathing. "She didn’t respond to any of the comms. I don’t think she had time to eject."

Behind them, Maverick appeared, his expression stern and focused. He didn’t ask questions. Instead, he headed straight for the medical search plane, already prepared to take off. Without a word, he boarded, motioning for the search crew to follow.

"Let’s go. We need to find her," Maverick ordered, his voice commanding, though there was a heaviness to his tone that wasn’t missed by the others.

As the search and rescue plane lifted off, the remaining Daggers were left on the tarmac, standing in a tense, suffocating silence. Rooster, Phoenix, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, and Bob all stood in a loose circle, watching the horizon, their minds racing with the possibility of what they might hear next.

Minutes passed like hours. No one said a word. The weight of what might have happened to Ace settled over them like a heavy blanket, each of them replaying her crash in their heads, trying to make sense of it.

Finally, the radio crackled.

"We’ve located her Dagger," a voice came through. "Wreckage is extensive... no sign of an ejection. We’re sending in the medics now."

Rooster clenched his fists, trying to hold himself together. Phoenix closed her eyes, a silent prayer forming in her mind. Hangman paced back and forth, unable to stand still, his face tight with worry.

Maverick’s voice came next, calmer, but tense. "We found her. She’s alive, but barely. She’s in bad shape. Get the medics ready at base—she’ll need immediate attention."

The relief was immediate but short-lived, crashing against the rising tide of panic. "Alive" didn’t mean safe. Rooster stepped closer to the comms, trying to catch every word, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table.

"Severe condition," Maverick continued. "Multiple injuries, possibly from G-LOC and impact. We’re stabilizing her now, but it’s critical. She needs to be flown out immediately."

Phoenix covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes wide with tears she fought to hold back. Fanboy turned away, unable to face the others as the reality hit. Hangman stopped pacing, his fists clenching by his sides. The usually cocky pilot was quiet, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his posture was clear.

The medical team on base was already on standby, rushing toward the landing area as the search plane prepared to return. The remaining Daggers gathered near the runway, standing in a tight group, waiting for any sign of Ace. Each of them wrestled with their thoughts, guilt creeping into their minds—wondering if there was something they could have done, something they missed.

Minutes later, the medical search plane landed with Ace on board, strapped to a stretcher and surrounded by medics. They worked quickly, moving her onto a gurney as they rushed toward the base’s medical centre. Maverick followed closely behind, his jaw set, but the worry was clear in his eyes.

Rooster watched, his heart pounding in his chest. The brief glimpse he got of her was enough to make his stomach drop—she was pale, her body bruised and battered, a mask over her face supplying oxygen. It was clear she was hanging on by a thread.

"Is she going to make it?" Hangman asked quietly, his voice uncharacteristically subdued.

No one had an answer. The squad stood in stunned silence, watching as their teammate, their friend, was whisked away to the medical wing, her fate uncertain.

Phoenix swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper. "She has to make it. She has to."

-

Ace was rushed through the hallways of the base’s medical centre, her stretcher surrounded by a flurry of medics shouting urgent commands. The sound of her ragged breathing through the oxygen mask was barely audible over the hurried footsteps. Her face was pale, her body still and battered from the G-LOC and subsequent crash. The medics moved with precision, wheeling her straight to the emergency trauma unit.

“We need to get her into surgery now!” one of the medics yelled, pushing open the doors to the operating theater.

The surgeons were already scrubbed in, awaiting her arrival. IV lines were attached, monitors were set up, and the sound of beeping machines filled the room. Her vital signs were weak, teetering on the edge of stability. The head surgeon quickly assessed her injuries, noting the signs of severe trauma from both the high G-force and the crash impact.

"She’s got multiple fractures, possible internal bleeding, and signs of severe G-LOC trauma," the surgeon announced, as they began prepping for surgery.

The doors to the operating room swung shut, and the medics filed out, leaving Ace in the hands of the surgical team.

-

In the Hallway

Outside, the Dagger Squad sat in the waiting area, the tension suffocating. None of them had said much since Ace was wheeled away. Rooster leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, staring at the ground as if trying to make sense of the last few hours. His mind was racing with worry and guilt. He’d been tough on Ace, both in the air and on the ground, and now she was fighting for her life.

Phoenix sat next to him, her foot tapping nervously against the floor, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She couldn’t shake the image of Ace’s jet spiralling out of control, nor the sight of her pale, motionless body when she was brought in. "Come on, Ace," she whispered under her breath.

Hangman paced the length of the hallway, his usual bravado completely absent. His jaw was clenched, fists balled tightly at his sides. He’d been the one who set up the whole email situation, thinking it was just some harmless fun. Even though she forgave him, they still weren't back to normal. Now, guilt gnawed at him with every step he took.

"She’s tough. She’ll pull through," Hangman muttered to himself, but it sounded more like a prayer than a statement of confidence.

Coyote sat further down the row, staring blankly at the door leading to the operating room. He replayed the training flight in his head, going over every detail, wondering if there was something—anything—he could have done differently to prevent the crash.

Fanboy and Payback sat together, whispering to each other every now and then, though their voices were low and full of worry. Bob, the quietest of the group, sat against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his face a mix of worry and helplessness.

The minutes dragged on. Every time a nurse or doctor walked through the hall, the squad straightened, hoping for an update, but the news never came. The tension was thick in the air, each of them lost in their own thoughts, consumed by fear for their friend.

Maverick entered the hallway, his face a grim mask of calm. He had been overseeing the rescue efforts, but now that Ace was in surgery, there was nothing more he could do but wait. He exchanged a few silent nods with the group before sitting beside Rooster.

“How is she?” Rooster asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“They’re doing everything they can,” Maverick replied, his tone steady but strained. He knew better than anyone how critical the situation was, but he didn’t want to add to their already overwhelming fears.

Hours seemed to pass as they sat in silence, the only sounds in the hallway being the occasional shuffle of footsteps or the distant hum of medical equipment. No one knew what to say, and the weight of uncertainty hung heavily over them all.

Every so often, one of them would glance toward the operating room doors, hoping to see a doctor emerge with good news. But the doors remained shut, and the tension in the room grew thicker with each passing second.

Finally, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall. The squad all turned toward the noise, holding their breath. A nurse approached, her expression neutral, but the look in her eyes was serious.

“The surgery’s still ongoing,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “It’s going to be a long one. She’s stable for now, but it’s critical. The doctors are doing everything they can.”

“Stable,” Phoenix repeated, the word a fragile lifeline she clung to. “That’s something.”

The nurse nodded. “It is. But it’s still touch and go. We’ll keep you updated.”

The squad nodded in unison, though the news wasn’t as reassuring as they’d hoped. The wait continued, with everyone’s minds now filled with images of Ace in the operating room, fighting for her life.

Each of them sat, stood, or paced, trying to pass the time, but every second felt like an eternity as they waited for any sign that Ace would be okay.

----

One Week Later

The sterile scent of the hospital room lingered in the air, blending with the steady beeping of the machines that monitored Ace’s vitals. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room. Ace lay in the bed, her body still aching from the injuries she’d sustained, but she was finally awake. Her head throbbed faintly, and her muscles felt weak, but she was conscious—and alive.

It had been a week since the crash. A week of surgeries, recovery, and slowly regaining her strength. The Dagger Squad had visited her throughout the week, offering support and well-wishes, but Rooster hadn’t shown up once.

She wasn’t surprised. After the email situation, their relationship had soured more than ever. The betrayal she’d felt after realizing it was Rooster on the other end of those flirtatious emails still stung, even more so after the crash. She had expected him to stay away.

As she stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, the door creaked open. She looked over, and her eyes widened slightly as Rooster stepped inside, his expression uncertain.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice a little rough, like he had rehearsed what he was going to say a thousand times but still wasn’t sure how to begin.

Ace tensed slightly but didn’t say anything right away. Her eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and something else—resentment, maybe—but she masked it quickly, keeping her face neutral.

Rooster took a few hesitant steps toward the chair by her bed. He looked uncomfortable, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his flight suit as he stood awkwardly by the door, unsure if he should sit or not.

“I—uh, I thought I should come by,” he continued, finally deciding to sit down. He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar nervous gesture she had seen countless times before, but now it felt different. “It’s been... a lot.”

Ace raised an eyebrow, though the movement sent a dull ache through her head. “A lot,” she repeated, her voice flat.

Rooster winced at her tone but didn’t back down. “I know I should’ve come sooner. I just—didn’t know what to say after everything. After what happened with the emails and then... this,” he gestured vaguely toward her, indicating her injuries.

Ace remained silent, her eyes focused on him but her face giving nothing away. She wasn’t ready to make this easy for him, not after everything that had happened between them.

He sighed, leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I know I screwed up with the whole email thing. I didn’t mean for it to... go the way it did, I didn't know it was you at the start either. It was supposed to be some dumb fun, but it hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

Ace’s jaw tightened, her mind flashing back to the moment she had discovered Rooster was the one behind the anonymous emails. The betrayal still felt fresh, even after weeks of avoiding him.

“You have no idea,” she said quietly, her voice cutting through the room like a blade. “You have no idea how much that messed with my head, Bradley.”

Rooster flinched at the use of his first name, a sign of how serious things had gotten. She almost never called him that. “I know. I get that now.”

“No,” Ace interrupted, her voice stronger now, though strained from disuse. “You don’t get it. You thought it was a game. I thought... I don’t know what I thought, but it wasn’t that. You led me on, Rooster. And for what? A joke? Some sick competition?”

Rooster looked down at his hands, guilt written all over his face. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t—” He paused, searching for the right words. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It just got out of hand.”

Ace clenched her fists beneath the hospital blanket, frustration bubbling up inside her. She had spent weeks—months—trying to figure out why she had been so blindsided by him. It wasn’t just the betrayal, it was everything leading up to it—the animosity, the tension, the constant bickering. And then, suddenly, the emails had made her think there was something different, something more.

“Out of hand?” she echoed, her voice bitter. “You humiliated me.”

Rooster’s gaze shot up, his expression pained. “I didn’t mean to.”

Ace exhaled sharply, leaning back against the pillows, exhausted from the conversation but too frustrated to stop. “And then you didn’t even come to see me. Not once. I almost died, Rooster.”

He looked like he had been punched. “I know. I was... I didn’t think you’d want to see me. After everything.”

“That’s your excuse?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. “I’ve been lying here, dealing with all of this, and you just couldn’t be bothered to show up because you were afraid?”

Rooster opened his mouth to respond but stopped, realizing there was nothing he could say that would make it right. He couldn’t take back what he’d done, and he couldn’t fix the way he’d hurt her.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice raw. “For everything. For not coming sooner. For the emails. For being an idiot.”

The room was thick with tension, the air heavy between them. Ace watched him, her anger simmering beneath the surface. She didn’t know if she could forgive him—not yet, maybe not ever—but part of her was too tired to keep fighting.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Rooster added, his voice almost a whisper. He looked at her with genuine concern, the guilt and regret clear in his eyes.

Ace didn’t respond right away. Instead, she closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath. “I don’t know what to say to you right now, Rooster.”

He nodded, standing up slowly. “I get it. I won’t push you. But I’m here if you ever want to talk. I mean it.”

Ace opened her eyes, watching him as he moved toward the door. He hesitated for a moment before glancing back at her. “Take care of yourself, Ace.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving her alone with her thoughts, the weight of their conversation settling heavily on her shoulders.

Please comment, like and reblog!

[outofconcheol]

Tune In For Love (KSM x GN!Reader)

pairing: college radio host!Seungmin x co-host!reader

genres/au/rating: sfw, mostly fluff, the mildest of angst, idiots to lovers, pg

summary: When you and Seungmin come up with a crazy new idea for your radio show, a week of chaos and unspoken feelings unfolds. As you learn more about relationships, will the two of you tune in for love? Or decide to shut it down completely?

warnings: swearing, fake exes trope, a playlist of seungmin coded songs mentioned, stupid amounts of pining, mentions of relationship drama, they almost kiss, then they actually kiss, one mild (joking ) threat of violence, Jeongin being the best wingman ever, RAIN, Ningning, Joshua, Cheol, and Day6 all make cameos

word count: 2.8k

a/n: happy Seungmin day!! honestly this could have been a whole fic on its own but i'm happy with this cute little drabble! this draws some inspiration from the ex talk by rachel lynn solomon. our boy deserves all the love, i hope you enjoy!

“Okay everyone, this has been another week at The Sound FM, the university’s #1 radio station! ____ and Seungmin signing off!”

Your voice fades out to the tune of the hit that Seungmin had selected for the week, ears perking up at the rumble of the bass and the tick tick tick of the hi-hat. Another Day6 song. Congratulations this time. 

“When will you admit that you’re Day6’s number one fan?”

“When you admit that you’re their number two,” Seungmin adjusts his glasses, a devious smirk lighting up his face. 

(You were, but you would never give Seungmin the satisfaction.)

“That segment on how to deal with the stress of midterms turned out great! What should we do next?”

You fidget with your pen, tapping it against your notepad, twirling it around in your fingers, before moving to put it behind your ear–

Seungmin’s hands shoot out, fingers clasping around yours for a brief moment, and a shiver runs through you, despite the fact that it was sunny outside with not a cloud in sight.

“I had an idea, actually, well it’s not my idea, Jeongin brought it up..”

For however composed the two of you were on air, you turned into awkward rambling messes when the mics were off. It had always been like that though. You’d been hosting the show with Seungmin for the better part of a year and you still didn’t know why you felt shy around him, or why you’d barely progressed beyond simple acquaintances.

“There’s this girl that uh, he, yeah he wants to impress, so he was asking if our next segment could maybe have something to do with dating advice.” 

“That is sooo much better than the segment on recycling tips I was planning,” you nudge him, oblivious to the way his ears turn red.

“Oooh but what if we make it spicy you know? Like approach relationships from a different angle?”

“What angle?” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck. “As far as I know, neither of us are in a relationship. I mean, right?”

“Right but no one else has to know that! What if we pretend that we’re exes, who broke up? Hindsight is always 20/20, people will eat that up!”

“I thought I was supposed to be the menace here,” Seungmin’s tone is deadpan but his eyes sparkle with mischief.

“What can I say, you’re rubbing off on me Min,” you giggle. “So, what do you say we put your charm to good use?”

“You think I’m charming ___?” 

You miss the excitement in his tone, writing it off as enthusiasm for the whole absurdity of this plan.

“Who knows, Min! Maybe we’ll even find people! This is so exciting!”

Seungmin pauses briefly, a choked sound escaping his mouth, but you think you imagine it, watching him straighten and nod.

Laughter fills the studio as you bicker back and forth about what to include and how the next week would go. It was a risk, but you hoped it would pay off — both on the airwaves and maybe even for your stagnant love life. The possibilities were endless.

“Hello, and welcome to Tune in For Love! We are your hosts, ___ and Seungmin, and for the next week we’ll be tackling all your relationship questions and concerns!”

Your voice booms into the mic, echoing throughout the tiny studio, and you take a moment to mute yourself, heart pounding in your ears. Butterflies had begun to bubble up in your chest – you were really doing this.

“You ready for this?” Seungmin’s voice knocks you out of your daze, and you look over to see his lips twist into a lazy smile, running his fingers through his hair.

Fuck. Why did that make your stomach flip-flop?

You give him a shaky nod. It was probably just the rush of trying something new, so different from what you were used to. The simultaneous thrill and terror of dipping your toes into uncharted waters. 

Seungmin unmutes the mic, his softer, more melodious voice reverberating into the windscreen. He’d make a great singer, you think. Maybe for your next segment you could convince him to croon on air.

“We’re your resident experts on dating, whether it's still in the early stages of puppy love, the cool cruising of the honeymoon phase, or the bitter sting of love gone wrong. We have all your answers, right here, right now on The Sound FM!”

“Trust me, we’ve had experience with all of those,” you chuckle.

The story just falls off your tongue – a tumultuous end to a relationship that had never existed, one full of angst and heartbreak that even the finest writer couldn’t think of. Seungmin interrupts you spontaneously to respond to your dramatic anecdotes with dry quips of his, and you can’t believe it — you actually sound like a couple. A real couple.

“How was I supposed to know you were allergic to garlic? You let me take you to an Italian restaurant on the first date!”

“As my boyfriend, you should have asked my best friend about my allergies! That’s like standard dating protocol,” you shoot back, making sure to smile so that Seungmin knows you’re not serious.

“Noted, I’ll keep that in mind for the next relationship,” Seungmin grunts, the air becoming thick with a tension you can’t pinpoint.

Clearing your throat, your fingers hover over the buttons of the soundboard.

“How about we take some listener calls instead?”

The line crackles to life, a caller named Ningning groaning about how her girlfriend forget their anniversary and didn’t even apologize.

“It’s an honest mistake,” Seungmin mutters. 

“I don’t think so,” you counter, chewing your lip. “It’s important to be considerate of special moments like anniversaries, birthdays. It means you care. I mean Seungmin probably doesn’t even remember mine–”

“October 17th,” he interrupts you, and you go rigid. How did he even know?

I asked Jeongin, he mouths, and it only leaves you more confused. Why would he need to know that? It leaves you more embarrassed that you don’t know his exact day, only that it was sometime in September.  

Ningning rambles on, thanking you both for the added perspective and resolving to make things right with her girlfriend. You feel your heart warm at her determination, amazed at the effect that you and Seungmin had already managed to have on your listeners. 

Seungmin closes out the show, the easygoing and carefree chords of Polaroid Love ringing into the mic, and you think to yourself, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

As the sun sets, campus comes alive, buzzing with excitement. You glance out the window, watching students filter out of the library, walking towards the commons for a cup of coffee, or hugging outside their dorms. A deep pang of longing hits your gut, not sure whether its from watching them outside or the fact that you’re cramped here in the tiny studio, band posters all over the walls, and Seungmin is playing Love You For A Long Time, Maggie Rogers’ ethereal voice filling the space between you. 

“Had to ease you into our next listener call,” Seungmin grins into the mic. “This one is – ouch. It might hit home for some of us, I mean you all.”

“Hi, ___ and Seungmin? I’m Joshua, a senior. I’m calling because I have a dilemma – my best friend Seungcheol just started dating my ex, and I’m not sure how to feel. On one hand I wanna be happy for them, but on the other hand, I’m a mess. What would you do if you found out one of you was dating someone else?”

“Oh.” Seungmin breathes out, and he remains there, lips parted like he’s frozen. An awkward silence falls over the studio, and you’re sure Joshua is blinking on the other end of the line, wondering what the hell just happened.

“I’m not sure,” you shudder, thinking of the hypothetical situation. But it wasn’t so hypothetical. You and Seungmin were free to date people. There was nothing stopping you. But it still felt wrong somehow.

“I would give yourself some space, Joshua. Take time to confront your own feelings about this, and when you’re ready you can decide what to do. Let yourself heal first.”

“That’s a good answer,” Seungmin whispers, and you panic, muttering out a rushed goodbye before cutting the broadcast.

“Wow,” you sigh. “That was, I–, I guess I didn’t think of that when I suggested this.”

“Think of what?” Seungmin’s eyes glimmer with interest, and he leans in closer.

“How shit would get so deep? Like how would I actually react if that happened to me? I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Sometimes this feels almost like we’re not pretending,” Seungmin murmurs, a strained laugh escaping his throat, a mask for the change in his tone. 

You’re not sure what you want to say, but it feels like you should say something. The moment hangs heavy in between you two, and you don’t remember how Seungmin got so close, brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“Seungmin, I–” 

“You had a piece of hair in your face,” he responds, straightening up to stretch his arms. “It’s late, want me to grab you an americano?”

Shaking your head, you manage to muster up a weak response, telling him to go ahead without you. He nods slightly, before throwing his jacket on and slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

An unsettling dilemma dawns on you – this was supposed to be an act, but why did it feel so real?

“You know,” Jeongin’s loud chewing echoes in the dining hall, Seungmin bristling as he watches his friend stuff five french fries into his mouth at once. “I should revoke your roommate privileges for this stunt you pulled. I thought you were grumpy before, but breaking up with ____ has taken it to a whole new level.”

Seungmin scowls, cursing under his breath at Jeongin. Yanking his headphones out of his ears, the lamenting tune of These Days by Wallows cuts off abruptly. 

Outside the rain patters, echoing his stormy emotions. Over the course of the past week, his mood had felt like he was on the world’s most nausea-inducing roller coaster ride. The highs were the times he got to spend with you in the studio, cracking jokes and watching your eyes shine as the two of you came up with the next devious plot for the show. The lows were the knot in his stomach every time someone would call in with a question that hit a little too hard.

After this week, he was glad the show would end, and maybe you guys could go back to the way things were before. That easy, comfortable dynamic that always existed between you two.

“Bullshit,” Jeongin sees the way his eyes zone out, like he can read Seungmin’s mind. “I know you, and I know what you’re thinking and it’s absolute bullshit. You’re in too deep, hyung.”

“I’ll fucking punch you,” Seungmin hisses. “What the hell am I supposed to do, huh? Just spill to ___ that this isn’t some game for me? That my feelings are real? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Hyung–”

A gasp echoes from behind him, and Seungmin turns to see you behind him. Your lip trembles, and you lock eyes with him, a tear escaping the corner before you’re turning on your heels, running out of the dining hall. 

Seungmin stands there, frozen with the weight of what he’d just confessed, heart sinking to his shoes. All of a sudden, he feels a sharp jab to his arm, Jeongin’s fist colliding with it.

“What are you waiting for? Run!”

The rain pelts the back of Seungmin’s neck as he runs, indifferent to the fact that he’s probably soaked to the bone, slipping and sliding along the cobblestone. He can make out your figure storming ahead furiously, like you can’t get away fast enough, and he speeds up, panic in his voice.

“___, wait! Please stop.”

His voice turns hoarse from all the yelling, and he’s about to give up, turn back in defeat (and go sock Jeongin cry into his friend’s shoulder), when you stop under a streetlight, your figure slumping. 

Seungmin is by your side in moments, not caring that he takes your hands in his, blowing on them to give you warmth.

“Y-you d-don’t even h-have an umbrella, w-what were y-you thinking?” he chatters, and he watches your lips turn up in a smile. But your eyes remain downcast.

“What about you?” you whisper, and Seungmin cocks his head, looking at you in confusion.

“I left my jacket in the dining hall with Jeongin—”

“No Seungmin, I mean what about you?” your voice croaks desperately. 

Seungmin takes a deep breath. There was no use in pretending anymore.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do,” he chokes out.

You take his hands in yours and Seungmin feels dizzy. The cold rain no longer bothers him, warmth filling his veins from the inside out.

“You think?” you sniffle.

“I know. I know I’ve been in love with you, since the day you walked into the studio and pitched your ideas for five-star dorm meals.”

“I really like your hands,” you blurt out, and Seungmin’s eyes widen in shock. That was not the response you’d been expecting.

“They’re warm when mine are always cold, I like the way they look when they’re holding a pencil, or when you bring me a cup of coffee. I like your voice too – the way you sing along to Day6 when you think no one is listening, or your annoying little laugh–”

“It is not annoying–”

You press a finger to his lips, and Seungmin thinks he might just evaporate. 

“Not now, Min. I’m trying to say something here. What I’m trying to say is that if there’s anything this whole week has taught me, it’s how much I like you. How much I want to have those crappy problems that everyone complains about with you, how much I want to celebrate birthdays with you, and anniversaries with you, and how I think I might collapse inside if I ever saw you with someone else—”

It’s Seungmin’s turn to interrupt you now,  cold lips colliding with yours, the initial shock replaced with heat. Your hands burrow into his hair and he draws you closer, hands weaving around your waist. The startled, frantic sounds of your breathing did nothing to help the pounding of his heart, and he wonders if you can hear it too. 

In this moment, Seungmin never wants to let go, holding you steady against him even when you part, your breath fanning in the cold air. 

“I just, I, needed to be honest. No more pretending.”

“No more pretending,” he smiles against your lips, nudging his nose against yours.

The wet slap of shoes against the pavement interrupts you both, turning to see the Jeongin behind you, Seungmin’s jacket in his arms. He takes in the sight of you two wrapped around each other, a smug grin lighting up his entire face.

“Hell yeah! It worked!”

“___ and Seungmin signing off, this is Tune in For Love on The Sound FM, and we’ve loved having you this week!”

The air in the studio buzzes with a different kind of excitement – the dreamy notes of Hypnotized by The Weston Estate filling up the room.

“Before we go, we have something to share with you–” your voice wobbles, and Seungmin reaches out immediately, squeezing your hand.

“Please send your email petitions in so our show doesn’t get canceled, but we’ve been faking it this whole time. We’re not actually exes.”

You can almost hear the collective gasp across campus, the soundboard going crazy as it lights up with calls.

“We are, as of yesterday, the happiest, and newest–, couple on campus,” Seungmin beams, his pride echoing through the mic and your heart lurches at how right it feels to be his.

You hit the answer button, the lines flooding with congratulations and well-wishes to the news.

“Congrats!” Ningning’s voice echoes. “I always thought you were the cutest together.”

“You make me want to find someone of my own now,” Joshua says in the background, and the studio fills with you and Seungmin’s laughter.

When the last call goes through, Jeongin gives you both a thumbs up, shutting off the soundboard. 

You turn to Seungmin, heart racing. 

“I can’t believe we actually did this,” he says,  half-laughing.

“Me neither,” you reply, a soft smile on his lips. “But I’m really glad we did. It feels… right, you know?”

“Thanks for being part of this with us,” he echoes through the airwaves, his voice sincere. “We’re excited to see what’s next—together. And while the show may be over, we hope you’ll still tune in for love every single week — no matter the topic.”

“Next – how to cook a five star meal worthy of any restaurant using just your dorm microwave…”

a/n pt. 2: As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜