#I dedicate this to all the angry / embarrassed cries out there……….

[juniper-clan]

MOON 18: Oh Shit She’s Feeling It (pt. 1)

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[innerpalaces]

The Life of a Cannon Fodder Mother-in-Law - 26

Chapter 26: The Deceived Mother-in-Law 26

The furious Master Zhang had already walked into the yard. When he heard this, he turned around and said, "It's because of your deception!" 

He was about to get the divorce letter, but Cheng Rumeng still wanted to struggle. "I've been married before, what did I lie to you about? "

Master Zhang emphasized: "I can't control your intimacy with men before you got married, but you have been unclear about it for many years after you were married. I don't want to be cuckolded."

"I didn't! You obviously know that we have had no contact for a long time. As for those years before..." Cheng Rumeng said loudly: "You don't know the truth, so why do you say this to me. I can explain it."

Master Zhang waved his hand. "No need to say anything more. Pack your bags!" He actually looked like he was going to drive her out immediately. Cheng Rumeng was so embarrassed and angry that she said, "You want to divorce me, not because I did something wrong, but because you want to please Huixin, right?" This remark hit the nail on the head. Keeping Cheng Rumeng here would only give him one more mouth to feed. She was knowledgeable and could serve others and the Zhang family really needed a mistress. Although he had been suspicious of her before, she had already entered the household. In addition, those things were secret and it was unlikely that outsiders would know about them. He was angry, but he would not immediately cut off his relationship with her.

The reason why he now wanted to drive her away immediately was just as Cheng Rumeng said. He wanted to try to make Liu Huixin not hate him so much. If he could get a little bit of that fabric, it would be worth a lot of money. Master Zhang explained so much because he was guilty. Seeing that she hit the nail on the head, he was embarrassed and became angrier. "I just dislike you, it has nothing to do with others. There is no need to say anything more. Take care of yourself in the future!" After saying this, he left quickly. A quarter of an hour later, a maid sent over a letter of divorce. Cheng Rumeng cried and had to be dragged out the gate by two maids. During this period, several concubines were peeking out the windows, pointing and whispering from time to time, and there was also low laughter. It started to rain. Cheng Rumeng squatted outside the Zhang family's gate and soon became soaked to the skin. At this point, she had no retreat path and no place to go. She just clenched her  teeth and squatted there in the rain. Master Zhang was really cruel and never showed up from beginning to end. After staying up all night, Cheng Rumeng couldn't stand it anymore. But she stayed "dedicated" and waited all night. If she left just like that, the rain she had been soaked in for half the night would be in vain. She was unwilling to give in and simply fell to the ground. The door of the Zhang family never opened. Master Zhang had always shown off that his newly married wife was the godmother of Master Qi. Some kind people felt sympathy and ran to the Qi family to inform Qi Hechen about this. When Qi Hechen heard the news, he was in a dilemma. That was his biological mother, and he couldn't ignore it. But if he intervened, it would be difficult to explain to his father. He ordered his wife: "Send someone to take her home."

Zhao Zhenyan really didn't like this mother-in-law. She couldn't do anything except act coquettishly towards men. The key was that her identity could not be known by the public. If she was not careful, it would not only affect her, but also the reputation of the couple. In comparison, Liu Huixin, this mother-in-law, was much more capable. She arranged everything at home and outside in an orderly manner. She was well-off and generous. Occasionally, she would think how good it would be if her real mother-in-law was Liu Huixin.

"If father knows..." Qi Hechen said irritably: "I heard that it rained all night, so just send her back first." Zhao Zhenyan was silent: "It would be too conspicuous for me to go. Let Sister Chanchan go!" "That's my mother." Qi Hechen emphasized: "Who are you looking down on by letting a concubine go?" Zhao Zhenyan: "..." Thank you for your respect!

After speaking, Qi Hechen felt that his tone was too strong, so he softened his expression and said, "Except for me, anyone can go. But this matter is secret. What if Chan'er suspects our relationship?" He stretched out his hand, took his wife into his arms and said, "Yan'er, just help me this time." Having said that, what else could Zhao Zhenyan do? She immediately changed her clothes and personally led people to the gate of Zhang's house, lifted Cheng Rumeng onto the carriage, and sent her back to the yard where she had been a widow before.

Cheng Rumeng stayed up all night and got caught in the rain, but she didn't actually faint. She "woke up" not long after returning to the yard, and was very listless. "Yan'er, thank you." Zhao Zhenyan learned the truth about Qi Hechen's birth by chance after entering the Qi family. After that, Cheng Rumeng regarded her as her own daughter-in-law and never treated her as a stranger. Zhao Zhenyan was silent for a moment, before: "Godmother, what's going on?" "That woman Liu Huixin has bad intentions." Cheng Rumeng gritted her teeth with hatred: She deliberately told those things to Master Zhang..." At this point, she was a little anxious: "I don't know if Master Zhang will go out and talk nonsense." Zhao Zhenyan thought that this cheap mother-in-law was divorced because she did something wrong, but she didn't expect that there was such an inside story, and her expression immediately changed: "What should we do?" After marrying Qi Hechen, she discovered that the only thing good about this man was that he was about to pass the imperial examination. If he loses his reputation and can't take the imperial examination, then he would really be useless. Cheng Rumeng had already thought of a countermeasure: "Let your father go talk to Master Zhang, or let the Old Master go." Master Zhang disliked her now, but he would definitely give Old Master Qi face. Zhao Zhenyan's panicked heart finally calmed down and she said, "Why did mother do this?" It was fine before, but now Liu Huixin has left the Qi family, yet her daughter-in-law still called Huixin 'mother' like this. Cheng Rumeng felt uncomfortable listening to it, and became more and more impolite: "She just can't stand seeing me doing well!" 

Liu Huixin didn't let her go even after marrying a stingy man like Master Zhang. Cheng Rumeng knew that this time the feud between the two of them was severe. But now she is hated by Qi Zhengming, and there is no one around her to rely on. She can only passively take the beating. "Yan'er, I have a headache. Please help me find a doctor. After I drink the medicine, you can go back." After Cheng Rumeng finished her instructions, she lowered her voice and ordered: "Tell this matter to your father-in-law secretly. Let's see his attitude towards it." If he is willing to visit her, there should be a possibility of reconciliation between the two. Zhao Zhenyan's expression was hard to describe. To be honest, if this wasn't her own mother-in-law, she would really want to mock her. Where did she get such a big face? It's really daring! She had already married someone else, and expecting the previous man to treat her the same way is nothing more than a daydream. But she is a junior and cannot say unpleasant things. "Dad has been trying every means to coax mother back recently, but I'm afraid she won't come." Just like Master Zhang divorced his wife to please Liu Huixin, Qi Zhengming will not associate with her as long as he has not given up hope of rekindling his relationship with his wife. Cheng Rumeng was a shrewd person and instantly understood what this daughter-in-law meant. She had suffered enough grievances these days. She has to beg and say soft words to everyone she meets. She had been holding it in for too long and wanted to vent. She did not dare to get angry at others, but in front of her daughter-in-law, she did not need to restrain herself too much, and immediately said in a deep voice: "Just do as I say." Zhao Zhenyan: "..." "Mom, I'm pregnant, and it's not safe to travel outside. You should take care of yourself in the future." After saying that, she walked away with a flick of her sleeves. Cheng Rumeng shouted several times, but when her daughter-in-law didn't look back, she was so angry that she smashed the cup nearby.

This house had not been occupied for a long time, and no one had been looking after it. It had an unpleasant, musty smell. Now it was winter, and the quilt on her body had not been exposed to the sun, so it was quite damp everywhere. Cheng Rumeng felt more and more uncomfortable as she sat there. Before she knew it, tears had started to slide down her face. She lay on the bed and cried sadly. She felt more and more dizzy and finally fell asleep.

Cheng Rumeng was frightened and angry, stayed out all night in the rain, and ended up bedridden. After Zhao Zhenyan went back, she knew that she couldn't hide these things, so she told Qi Zhengming directly: "Mom seems to want you to visit her." Qi Zhengming replied without thinking: "No!" When she was in the suburbs, she was determined to go to another man and didn't consider his feelings, so he was disappointed in her. Besides, Liu Huixin still refuses to forgive him. If he goes to Cheng Rumeng again, there will be no possibility for the two of them.

Not to mention how uncomfortable Cheng Rumeng was when she was ill, but Qi Zhengming was not waiting for her. 

When Liu Yuniang came back from the shop that day, she happened to see a down-and-out young man holding baggage in his hand and asking about something. "The person she married is from the Qi family, and her surname is Liu. I heard that the old master of the Qi family is a scholar..." There are not many scholars in this city, and it seemed that only Liu Huixin fits the bill. Liu Yuniang opened the curtain, and the man turned around. His brow was gentle, his nose was high, and his handsome features entered her sight. His facial features were truly picturesque, and even his old blue robes couldn't hide his appearance. At that time, Liu Yuniang's heart moved. Speaking of which, she is only in her thirties, which is quite young. If she never gets married, and just keeps guarding Qi Zhengming... wouldn't it be a waste? "It seems that the person the young master is looking for is me." Liu Yuniang told him her father's name with a smile and asked for details. The man lowered his head, not daring to look at her too much, and talked about the situation at home. The pair discovered that he was indeed a distant relative of Liu Huixin, but he was as far away as one could be. The man seemed a little embarrassed: "I am really desperate. If cousin is willing to help me, I will repay you generously in the future!" Liu Yuniang smiled: "Come with me."

The mother and daughter now live alone, and it was not convenient to receive such a guest. Liu Yuniang sent him to the home of Liu Huixin's brother. As a result, Qi Zhengming, who had been keeping an eye on mother and daughter, soon discovered that they had an extra relative. It was just a relative who came to ask for money. Everyone has such family members. Qi Zhengming did not take it seriously and often waited outside the yard of the Liu mother and daughter. However, because she had a dog, he did not dare to get too close and only watched secretly from the alley.

"Zhengming." A familiar female voice came, and Qi Zhengming suddenly felt irritated. He turned around and said rudely: "How dare you come to me?" The person behind him was Cheng Rumeng, who was about to cry. Her eyes were sparkling, as if she had a thousand words to say. In the past, Qi Zhengming would have stepped forward to inquire earnestly, but now his attitude has changed. The huge expenses at home had made him no longer able to care about romance, and he just wanted to stay away from this troublemaker. "I..." Cheng Rumeng wiped her tears. "I miss you." Qi Zhengming said bluntly: "Rather than missing me, I think you just miss my money!" At this point, he laughed at himself: "Don't think about it, I don't even have enough for myself. Find another way! Or, marry someone else. Remember, Hechen is your son. He will take the county exam in the spring, and the two women in the household are about to give birth. It's time to spend money. You haven't done anything for him in all these years. If you have enough money, remember to send him some."

Cheng Rumeng: "..." Where can she get any money?

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[ruminate88]

The Lingering Echo of Unrequited Love and the Search for Validation

4/10/25 I guess I have to acknowledge this…

An Unavoidable Past and the Pain of Invalidation

There's a part of my past I've tried to dismiss for the last three years, largely due to the defensiveness and lack of understanding I've encountered from others. It's also a part of my history that inexplicably hurts those closest to me, despite me being the most affected. I've hesitated to speak about this, but seeing this person resurface on TikTok has brought it all back. Though I've forgiven him, I desperately want to escape the constant reminders of him, yet I can't. He feels omnipresent, not just online; even his initials are on my license plate. The way there is always signs that show up in my life pointing to him, while it could all be coincidental, feels like I can never forget him and it angers me. I want to have never known him but why? Why such strong negative feelings after I adored him my entire teenage years ???

A Teenage Dream and the Crushing Reality

His name is Jesse. I became a devoted fan at just 14 and fell intensely in love after meeting him at a meet-and-greet at 16. I was his biggest supporter, writing him birthday and Christmas letters every year and composing over 1000 love songs. I even personally handed him a CD of these songs when I was 20, telling him they were for him. Over numerous in-person meetings and brief interactions, including a few tweets and him noticing me in a contest, a lot transpired between us in my mind. However, I was consistently made to feel delusional by family for believing my feelings were real, simply because I was "just a fan." It felt like no one validated my experiences, or so I initially thought. I had a Twitter account from 2009 dedicated to him, boasting over 900 followers, primarily fellow fans with whom I felt a strong sense of community.

Scandal, Rejection, and the Isolation of Online Support

A traumatic incident involving the exposure of my private photos led to a decline in my followers. (That’s a separate story) Then months later October 23rd, 2012, Jesse tweeted me a bizarre and sexually suggestive message, causing fans to believe we were having an affair, an incredibly embarrassing situation that Jesse never addressed or defended me against. Adding insult to injury, three months later, he visited my state and posted a picture at the airport on Twitter, a rare update that felt like a pointed exclusion, as he never reached out. Feeling foolish and unsupported, I spiraled into depression, yet my online community dismissed my cries for help as attention-seeking.

The Bitter End and Lingering Confusion

When Jesse publicly announced a new girlfriend after Christmas in 2013, it felt like a final, painful confirmation that my feelings were unrequited, leading to a rock-bottom moment and a public suicide note. Ironically, while no one seemed to care about my distress, the moment I declared I was no longer a fan, I was met with an outpouring of messages from followers questioning my loyalty and urging me to "fight" for him. I was done. Tired of loving someone who didn't reciprocate and embarrassed by his last tweet, I was angry and wanted to erase him from my life. My family also dismissed my feelings as irrational.

The Lasting Impact and Assertion of Reality

Eventually, Jesse married this other woman and seems to be starting a family with her now and I’m trying to be happy for him because I believe he’ll be an amazing father. The intensity of my past love and subsequent resentment towards him is confusing, making me question my sanity and my perception of reality, especially considering how much I sought his approval during my formative years. I even believe this experience contributed to my pattern of dating toxic men, internalizing the idea that I deserved unrequited love. My past love songs, all about Jesse, now seem meaningless and embarrassing. It felt like my deep investment in him and his career was all a lie, leaving me feeling profoundly broken. But I am not crazy; my feelings were real, even if the relationship I envisioned wasn't. When I do try to talk about this experience, people get highly defensive including my husband. Jesse and I never spent time outside of the meet n greets or the occasional tweets but yet why do people get so defensive of it all??? My husband questioned if I still love Jesse and if I’m even talking to him secretly when all I’ve been trying to do is process the past. ❤️‍🩹 Why is it so intense for me??? Why when I see Jesse pop up on TikTok do I flip out??? I quickly swipe up so not to see him but then I’m shaking …. Like, such an emotional response… I feel so crazy!!!! 🤪

There’s so much more to this story and I’m not sure it’s directly about Jesse…. It’s embarrassing truly. I made so many connections within his fan club and of course the trauma experience with my private photos. The love/hate relationship might be geared more towards the betrayal from his fans?? Idk… how could I hate Jesse? 🥺 what did he actually do to me??? Maybe I just hate that I loved the idea of him and it wasn’t realistic?? I loved him from age 14 till I was 24….

[flawseer]

Yes, that interpretation of Flame's conversation with Deathbringer is congruent with my own.

This is another instance of a situation that can be read differently at surface level. If one is already predisposed to think of Flame as unpleasant, it is tempting to see this conversation and think "Well, this guy is always angry and he said it would be funny to kill Fatespeaker, so of course this violence-crazed Skywing is going to idolize the assassin and ask him how to better rip out throats."

“You can’t do this,” Fatespeaker cried. “Flame! Viper! Tell him!” Viper shrugged, and Flame hunched his wings. His eyes were fixed on the cave where his fellow SkyWings were burning.

[Flame] and Ochre found spots beside Viper at the far end of the room, and soon the MudWing was snoring. But the SkyWing dragonet sat and stared into the coals, unmoving.

But that unflattering interpretation ignores the wider context of Flame's present state of mind. He doesn't walk up to Deathbringer full of fanboy energy, eager to learn some sweet assassin moves from the master. He asks specifically how to "kill fast", as in, how to get it over with while minimizing time spent having to watch the other person suffer. What he's really saying is "How do I rip the bandage off?".

“What does it take to become an assassin?” Flame blurted. “I want to know the best way to kill another dragon fast.” Deathbringer stood up and took a step toward the bars. “You mean, the best way to kill another dragon and not care,” he said. Flame hissed and lashed his tail.

And it is rather telling that Deathbringer immediately sees through his wannabe killer facade and lays bare the true intent of his question. Which catches Flame so off guard, he can't even vocalize a response, instead retreating back into anger (to mask his embarrassment and shame at being called out for a weakness he perceives in himself).

This "kill or you are worthless" mentality I imagine is especially prevalent in Skywing culture, which is shown to be by far the most militaristic and overtly confrontational. Death and violence is glorified, the main medium of entertainment is a gladiatorial arena, and their queen upholds ruthlessness and cruelty as virtues. During the war, the Skywings immediately allied themselves with Queen Burn, the most aggressive, war-mongering, and physically imposing of the three.

Flame didn't grow up in this environment, but he no doubt heard all about it through his mother. Soldiers like Avalanche live for this mentality, and the idea of showing weakness--like Kestrel did when she tried to flee with her daughter instead of killing her--is worthy of mockery (even though Avalanche would later do a very similar thing).

I don't want to go too deep into my thoughts here; I still want to write a dedicated essay on Flame in particular at some point. But suffice it to say, the thought of what makes a "real" Skywing is something that weighs heavily on his mind.

Tangentially related: While writing this, I looked back at the books and graphic novels. I usually greatly enjoy the comics, but here I noticed they completely screw up the tone of the scene where Flame talks to Deathbringer.

“What does it take to become an assassin?” Flame blurted. “I want to know the best way to kill another dragon fast.” Deathbringer stood up and took a step toward the bars. “You mean, the best way to kill another dragon and not care,” he said. Flame hissed and lashed his tail.

Here they really did render Flame as a murder-crazed lunatic, contributing to the more shallow reading of his character. This is not the Flame who gets called out and can only muster a non-committal hiss in response.

His eyes were fixed on the cave where his fellow SkyWings were burning.

It's a shame, because they got the part right where he is too distracted and shaken to even pay attention to what's happening with Squid.

On the False Dragonets of Destiny

Recycled art... Forgive me, I can't physically draw more than I currently am.

Just a little while ago I was looking at some replies to my recent work, and I noticed a nice comment from someone who expressed they enjoyed my comics featuring the false dragonets of destiny, but couldn't really get into them in the books. I am thankful for that comment, but even more thankful for the opportunity to ramble at length about something I kind of wanted to talk about, but couldn't find a plausible excuse for. Until now.

All of this is just my reading of the material, of course. You don't need to agree with me on this.

Content Warning: Some discussion of abuse, trauma, violence. I don't know if it's severe enough to warrant a warning, but better be safe.

General discussion

The false dragonets of destiny, the alternates, or whatever one wants to call them. They enter the story proper in book 4, after having made a few minor cameo appearances before, and serve as a kind of hybrid antagonistic force and pseudo-allies for Starflight during his stay on the Nightwing Isle. During that time, they are very abrasive, stand-offish, uncooperative, and a bit annoying, and I guess that doesn't make them come off very well. But like, in spite of that or maybe partially because of it, I am really fond of these guys, and I'd like to take some time talking them up to you.

One can examine how these guys act and conclude that they are a bunch of dysfunctional screw-ups. And they absolutely are that, don't get me wrong. But one should keep in mind: the majority of the time they are in the spotlight, they are in an extreme, tense, and frighteningly uncertain situation. It's easy to forget how stressful these situations are because the books as a whole really like to gloss over the more frightening kind of subjects on account of being written for young readers. You can't really go deep into themes of abuse, trauma, and depression in a story like that without tripping over some kind of censor on the way, but the implications are there, between the lines for you to find.

Understanding the group

Who are the false dragonets of destiny? They are posited as a mirror image of the true dragonets of destiny, who have all been extensively schooled in matters of education and martial prowess. The first thing we see THIS group do on page is brawl, so one may think they must be trained and capable fighters. Viper and Flame constantly throw around death threats and aggressive quips, so one may think they are hyper-violent and dangerous. They are neither. Nautilus admits the Talons haven't bothered training them at all, they haven't seen real combat, they've likely been deliberately kept away from the war as a whole. Flame doesn't even know how to use his fire breath correctly. Starflight, who is by far the least physically adept of the arc 1 protagonists, is able to outpace them even as four of them team up against him.

They are neither killers nor a crack team of badasses, rather they are a bunch of play-fighting, posing delinquents who talk a big game with little in terms of actual skill to back it up. Realizing this is key to understanding just how out of their depth and ill-equipped they are to handle anything that gets thrown at them on the Nightwing homeland, especially past the negotiations at the Skywing outpost.

Abduction and imprisonment

When Starflight first finds them, they have been on the Nightwing Isle for a good while, and they are suitably bristly because of it.

Look at this situation from their perspective. These guys have known nothing other than their semi-peaceful life in the Talon camp. Then the leader of that camp, Nautilus--a figure they all know and trust, essentially sells them to a frightening stranger, who looms over them and is so physically large he could crush each of them easily. This stranger pulls them away from their home without even giving them a chance to say goodbye to their relatives (I'm convinced Avalanche would not have let Morrowseer take her son if there was a chance to intervene, so Flame must have already been gone when she found out).

A contingent of Nightwing awaits them, blindfolds them so they don't know where the entrance to the Nightwing home is. They pass through a kind of eldritch tunnel that pulls at their souls. When they are finally allowed to see again, they find themselves trapped on an island where there is no sunlight and every breath hurts as the air is thick with ash.

The Nightwings won't let them leave, in fact they don't know if they will ever be able to leave again. Nobody tells them what's going on, what they are meant to do, or what the plan is. They are left confined in some room with nothing to do, and they (sans Fatespeaker) can't go outside without being arrested. Food is brought very infrequently, and usually inedible, so they haven't eaten since they were forced to leave home. They don't know where they are, nor where their parents are, nor if their parents know where THEY are. They are completely cut off from anywhere, isolated, trapped in this little slice of hell with no means to escape and little hope to acquire any soon.

I think if I was in a situation like that, I would be pretty cranky too. More than that, I would be scared out of my wits, and I believe that they are as well. If you look at their actions through a lens of them being frightened, their irritating quirks suddenly become very relatable. Viper is coping by throwing out threats and making herself seem bigger and scarier than the thing trapping her. Flame makes offensive jokes about killing Fatespeaker because making light of the situation helps him keep his wits together. Ochre is hard to read, but I think he's just tuning everything out. Squid is convinced that his father--who is the most important and smart dragon in all of Pyrrhia--has made the correct choice and knows what's best for all of them. And Fatespeaker is in complete denial, choosing to trust an inaccurate vision of the future while ignoring all the red flags that don't fit into it.

I think it's interesting that you can read this as all of them having a different strategy to cope with the uncertain and frightening situation they're trapped in. That's part of why I like them; they're very flawed and make interesting decisions.

Trauma and Empathy

You can look at someone like Squid and see his surface traits: He is annoying, he whines and complains constantly, he brags about who his father is, and he seems completely incapable of doing anything useful. If this guy was in any other story, I would probably dislike him. But Squid has the benefit of being a whiny dweeb in a situation where it is very appropriate to whine and be scared. He has a scene where he makes a somewhat goofy speech at Morrowseer where he calls him stupid and wants to go home, and is subsequently exiled. It's a bit silly in execution, but for me it did succeed in making me feel bad for Squid as he desperately and pathetically pleads for Morrowseer not to send him to his death.

But then you can read beyond the lines a little and view the scene in the full context that isn't really dwelt on. Here, you've got Squid, who is inept even among his peers, sheltered and doted on by his father, whom he has never been away from for any real amount of time until now. This guy, who probably can't even feed himself (otherwise he might have been able to catch fish in the waters around the island), keeps telling himself that his father has a plan, that all of this, even the questionable stuff, is happening for a reason. He hasn't eaten in weeks and he's been the punching bag for everyone else's frustrations (because Fatespeaker is not around enough, hanging out with Starflight). Now he has been chased halfway across the world, forced to cross the ocean while tired and starving, to be told he has to talk to a bunch of violent strangers who hate his kind and want to kill him. He tries to hide but is grabbed by the throat and held in the air by a soldier twice his size. This is likely the first time his life has ever been threatened that directly and with genuine intent.

The strange new Nightwing who was sent with them somehow manages to deescalate the situation enough to save him, but then, without warning, more dragons burst into the room. Suddenly everything is on fire, including the soldiers who just a moment ago threatened him. He is close enough to them to watch their forms twist and writhe in agony as they slowly burn to death.

As he is made to watch this horrifying spectacle, all the feelings he repressed by reminding himself of the faith he has in his father come flooding back in at once. It becomes too much for him to bear, and he breaks. He starts crying and verbally lashes out at their abuser for the horrid conditions they have been placed in and demands--half asserting and half pleading--to be allowed to go home. This isn't really whining anymore, this is a full-scale mental breakdown, rendered to be simple and digestible to a young audience. Imagine how harrowing this scene could have been if it wasn't filtered through a child-friendly narrative.

Closing thoughts

There is a scene some time after that I found kind of poignant. At one point, Starflight looks out and he sees Flame just standing out there, silently staring into the distance. There's maybe one line dedicated to it, and when you read the book normally, you don't really dwell on it since it's so nondescript. But this scene happens shortly after the visit to the remote outpost. The soldiers that burned to death in there were all Skywings. Skywings like himself, and like his mother, who also was a soldier before she joined the Talons. Whenever I picture him standing there, I imagine he is reliving that moment, hearing the dying screams of his kinsmen. I think he will be hearing them forever.

So in conclusion: The reason why I like the alternate dragonets so much is because of the enormous, untapped potential they possess as characters, and how deep some of them run if you take some time to look at them. I feel like all of them have a story to tell, and it's a bit of a shame that Sutherland likely won't come around to telling any of them. If I had infinite time, money, and energy, I would love to make many more comics about them, as they are an interesting lot.

Especially Flame's story I feel is such a heartbreaking tragedy, and thinking about the way it ended saddens me. He's one of my six all-time favorite characters in the series, I wish he could have gone out in a happier, healthier way.

[protectbnhaboysatallcost]

bf!Izuku | hc

a/n: my heart 🥺 i just think he's so adorable i can't help it

who catches you when you stumble, giggling and telling you to be careful.

keeps all your medication or/and vitamins organized, and makes sure you take them every day.

if he gets home first, put a towel in the dryer for a minute so when you get home and shower you have a fluffy warm towel to wrap up in.

sits on the bathroom counter when your showering so he can talk to you.

loves when you bear hug him, make him give piggyback rides.

tries to make sure you don't have caffeine after 6pm so you'll be able to sleep.

asks what cologne or deodorant you like so you think he smells good.

sprays just a little on any gift he gets for you.

plays with your hands if you're waiting for food or lazying on the couch.

always shows up to dates super early so you never have to wait on him.

one time he was 20 minutes late for a date and it scarred him.

loves calling you nicknames, whether they be traditional or not.

baby, honey, little gremlin. all of them

selfishly keeps his apartment cold so you have to cuddle with him

brings you any merch of his so he can see you dressed up

learns recipes of food you like just so he can see your excited expression when he says he made it when you think he ordered it.

always has a hoodie tucked away incase you get cold on a date.

has a couple notebooks dedicated to things you do.

got super embarrassed when you found one and teased him.

but you did love it.

plays your music on car trips whether he likes it or not.

laughs at all the tiktoks you send him.

quotes the tiktoks you quote even if he hasn't seen them

then accidentally quotes one just at work and gets super embarrassed when someone calls him out

wears your favorite color.

blushes whenever you compliment him or his body.

love,love, loves to praise/receive praise for anything

cries when y'all fight.

and doesn't let yall go to bed angry/upset.

thinks you comfort him the best.

your biggest fan

favorite candy? he knows. favorite material? obviously (insert), down to favorite chapstick ingredient. he knows all bc he loves you

at the end of the day, he didn't think in his journey to become the number one hero he'd meet the literally light of his life, you <3

asks are open :)

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

Even more ROTTMNT headcanons

When Mikey was 5 years old he got super hyper-fixated on roller coasters 

Splinter found a book about roller coasters and brought it home for Donnie 

He finished the book in a day and gave it to his brothers because he wasn’t that interested

Mikey read the whole book and fell in love with roller coasters

He constantly asked Splinter to take them to an amusement park so they could ride one 

And once he found out that he couldn't ride one and Donnie couldn’t make one (give the kid a break he’s 6) he broke down

So the boys came up with an idea 

Mikey would go into his shell and the boys would toss him around

Obviously, this wasn’t safe and it sounds a lot funnier than it actually was 

But those were some of Mikey’s favorite memories because his brothers taught him how to make the best out of a shit situation 

Donnie used to be the biggest crybaby when he was younger 

He could be happy, sad, or hurt and the tears would follow 

But his brothers never made fun of him (most of the time)

If anything they encouraged him to cry

Leo used to say “crying is like coughing. You cough to get all the bad stuff out. And you cry for the same reason” (this is something my nephew told me and I thought it was the cutest thing)

Donnie called him stupid after he said that but crying didn’t feel bad after that 

But as he got older the tears became less frequent

The only time when he cries now is when he gets frustrated, angry, or sad

Leo got the nickname butterfly chaser when he was younger 

It wasn’t uncommon for his head to be in the clouds

And it was tough to tell if he was actually listening to you or not because he always has a spacy look on his face 

The only time he was truly focused is when he was doing something physical ie sports or training 

His intensity used to scare his brothers

Which is why he stopped training after a while 

He hated how focused his brain was 

And he hated how his brain would pick apart his brothers and show him their weaknesses 

He didn’t like that he was progressing faster than his siblings 

It didn’t matter that he was the one moving ahead because he felt left behind 

So he stopped training and put all his focus on comic books instead

Because he can’t hurt his siblings with comic books and movies 

When Leo gets embarrassed he will hold onto his siblings 

He’ll grab their hands or their arms and tell them to “shut up and go away” while laughing his ass off

Raph thinks it absolutely adorable because it reminds him of when Leo was little

Raph used to carry the boys around everywhere 

They would be sitting and relaxing and Raph would pick them up and walk around 

They were like sentient little teddy bears 

Leo had a nasty habit of biting his brother when he was younger 

And it isn’t even because red-eared sliders are cannibals he just liked to bite things

And after his brothers bitched to their dad about Leo biting them Splinter “bought” him teething toys 

The boys didn’t make fun of him because if they did he would just bite them again

Donnie hates stickers 

Absolutely despises them

He hates the feeling of the sticky side and the nonsticky side

He hates the marks that they leave behind

Anytime a part of a sticker touches him he loses his shit 

And Mikey loves stickers 

And when he’s pissed off at Donnie he’ll leave stickers on his tools 

So Donnie has to do his least favorite things 1. Apologize and 2. Ask for help

Leo Donnie and April are the biggest shit talkers in the group

They have a group chat dedicated to talking trash

They taught April Japanese so they could talk shit in public 

And there are times when they don’t even have to say anything they can just look at each other and lose their shit 

And Raph hates talking shit 

Any time he complains about someone he feels guilty immediately and apologized afterward

 Doctor Delicate touch will occasionally show up in their group chat to join the shit-talking sesh (no one knows how he does it and they’re too afraid to ask)

[astranva]

Hi can u please do one where Harry absolutely loves to scare his wife because she gets scared really easily and he has bunch of videos of her getting scared by him and he posts it on social midea and it goes viral?

I just don’t have anything to read tonight sadly lol

Word Count: 1.1k

Category: Fluff

Warning: Some strong language

a/n: that was cute 😭

..

It wasn’t that the slightest of sudden noise made you jitter, and it wasn’t that you cried at horror movies or anything, but Harry knew how to push the right buttons to have you screaming (in shock) (and pleasure but that’s another story) and sure, you loved him, but God how you hated him for it.

It started a few months after he had known you; you were sitting in a café as you waited for him, seemingly in your own universe as you scrolled through your phone with one hand and sipping your drink with the other.

Harry hadn’t snuck up on you, really, you were just too oblivious that the moment he pulled back the chair and let out a sudden “Hi!” you had let out a yelp, spilling your drink all over you.

He was embarrassed to have been loud, but it took you both a good minute before you were both giggling.

It was the norm after that: Harry would be a tad louder than usual during your quiet times, you would take a moment with your hand to your chest as you let out a “Well, shit, Harry!” and then you both would be giggling and laughing, Harry more than you for his own amusement purposes.

Harry began recording a year ago.

He was a pest when it came to scaring you, but you always gave him a good laugh and he couldn’t stop himself.

Fans knew about you; they knew about how lowkey you were and it wasn’t a surprise that they rarely got content of you and Harry together, everyone knowing how private Harry was and how he most definitely didn’t want to abuse your privacy as well seen you weren’t anywhere near being from the industry.

That was all why it was surprising when fans all over the world opened their Instagram one day to find Harry had posted something other than tour promo.

It was an IGTV with you, captioned:

“Boo.”

The video began with you sitting opposite from Harry on a couch, one hand under your chin as you read a book on your lap. It zoomed on your face a little before Harry zoomed out.

“Hey!”

You had jumped in your seat, book flying to God knows where, eyes wide as you stared at Harry, “Well, shit, Harry!”

It then moved to another video, showing an empty hallway with a distant sound of you singing to yourself, and Harry chuckling into the microphone of the mobile before going quiet, a shadow seen approaching as you did.

“Y/N!”

“Shit, Harry!”

You had jumped back, hand to your chest as you closed your eyes, before you laughed as you marched to him to tackle him.

Another video then came, this time recorded through the front camera of his phone.

Your head was on his shoulder, sounds of the television sounding as you were focused on the screen while Harry looked at his phone’s screen with a child-like smile.

“Baby!”

“Shit, Harry!”

Another video appeared; you were with Gemma working on a puzzle, both of you sitting on the ground as the puzzle was on the coffee table in front of you.

Your back was facing the screen as Harry creeped up behind you, recording his hand as it moved slowly to reach out and touch your shoulder, jolting you with a loud “Y/N!”

Harry’s laugh was heard over your shriek, phone recording as you had pushed away the puzzle you and Gemma had been working on for the past hour, pieces going everywhere.

“Shit, Harry, you fucker!” You were angry, despite Harry’s giggles and it’s why his phone recorded the dynamic movement of him running away.

Another video was shown, this time also through the front camera.

Harry was seen propping up the phone on a surface away from your view, holding up a finger to his lips to hush before tiptoeing to the window, and hiding behind the curtains.

10 seconds seemed to pass before you came in view, singing to yourself before you sat on the couch, slices of watermelon on a plate as you munched on one, oblivious to Harry’s hiding spot.

He tapped on the window, not being able to actually see your reaction but his phone catching it.

Your munching stopped, head turning towards the sound as you remained quiet.

Harry moved the curtain, you standing suddenly and taking a step back.

In one quick movement, Harry stepped out from behind the curtains, “Boo!”

“Motherfu-“

If it weren’t for Harry’s quick reflexes, the watermelon slice in your hand would have been kissing his face instead of the window where you chucked it.

The video ended with him doubled over in laughter, you on the ground with your face in your hands.

The final video was Harry’s favorite.

It was shot on your wedding day.

Harry had stuck to the whole “we can’t see each other before the wedding because it’s bad luck,” sure, yes, but not really.

He recorded as he stood outside a door – the door that separated the both of you, where you were getting ready with all your friends and all those involved.

Harry had texted your best friend prior to that, saying that he needed to hand you something before the wedding and that you need to be nearby the door to take it from his hand.

The moment he got an “okay, ready” was the moment he began recording.

He heard you laughing with your friends, music coming out of the room.

Smoothly, and ever so gently, Harry opened the door with one hand while the other held his phone, blindly recording your reaction.

The video showed you in your dress, looking down at it as you smoothed it down.

“Mrs. Styles!”

You had screamed, kicking the door and hearing Harry grunt as it hit his wrist.

“Shit, Harry!”

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that this video was trending everywhere; taken to YouTube, trimmed to snippets for TikTok, quote tweeted on Twitter.

With 20 million views, and 5 million likes, you and Harry was laughing at the reactions his little montage got.

“y’all i knew he was a little shit😭”

“THE FACT THAT I WOULD’VE DUMPED HIS ASS THE FIRST TIME HE PULLED THIS SHIT”

“We stan the wrong person. we should be stanning y/n for putting up with this 💀”

“PLS THIS IS SO STUPID AND DOMESTIC 😭😭😭”

“I can’t believe this manchild is married”

“NOT HIM SCARING Y/N ON THE FUCKING WEDDING DAY WHY IS HE DEDICATED TO THIS”

“ik this is all fun but when is it my turn”

[piecksz]

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader 

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol 

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container. 

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen. 

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her. 

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.  

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.  

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.  

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.  

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of ���Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.  

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process. 

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

[val-made-a-mistake]

❝SUNSHINE.❞

(not my gif)

summary: you move to delacroix. sam wilson is happy to see you.

warnings: nearly cried happy tears writing this, so much fluff y’all, it’s insane. that’s why i named this fic sunshine.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: i think i made myself more attracted to sam wilson by writing this

///////

Sunshine streamed on your face from the window of your New Orleans apartment, and for a minute you almost regretted you were leaving for Delacroix. There wasn’t any possible way you could stay there longer, not with the climbing rent and the urge to travel again and the fact that everything was already packed and Sam and Sarah needed you, but you definitely didn’t hate the city. Even with its numerous rainy potholes.

(Seriously. Pretty much all of the roads were crumbling in your neighborhood.)

Your room had been picked completely clean. Everything from post its to paintings had been torn off your walls, making you cringe at the sloppy paint job underneath, and you’d managed to stuff all of your belongings into the back of your car, memories and necessities pressed tightly together and prepared for the drive. The kitchen, bathroom, and sliver of living room had been returned to the state you’d bought it in last Mardi Gras.

Part of you had the urge to deliver a speech to the roof, dedicated to all the fun times you’d had under it, but between the flickery heating and the water that was always crappily lukewarm, even those were scarce. 

Well then, you thought, so long, New Orleans. It’s been okay, I suppose.

You flung your bag over your shoulder and walked out of there. Your landlady was glad to see you go.

//////

For how sunny it was in New Orleans, it was in the middle of a downpour when you arrived in Delacroix.

“Oh no!” you heard someone scream as you pulled into the driveway. “Move, move!”

You saw two kids fling their arms over their heads in an attempt to shield themselves from the rain, and you laughed to yourself when you saw who it was.

The door was flung open almost instantly and a pair of arms whisked Cass and AJ inside.

You glanced at the luggage behind you. No way were you gonna lug it into the house in this rain.

You squinted through the zooming windshield wipers again, saw the clouds weren’t even close to parting, and reluctantly unbuckled your seatbelt. With only a bit of embarrassing fumbling, you pulled out an umbrella wedged between two suitcases of stuff that was important to you, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

You summoned your umbrella like it was a rifle and sprinted full speed to the porch.

“Sarah, it’s me! Let me in!”

“Oh my god!”

The door opened again and someone pulled you inside.

“Wow, I’d thought you’d wait out the rain before you came down,” Sarah said, closing the door behind you as soon as you’d scurried onto the welcome mat, “How’ve you been, girl?”

“It was sunny in New Orleans,” you replied sheepishly, closing your umbrella and peeling your soaked sleeve off your arm, only for it to stick right back like it was glue. “But I’m good, I’m fine. How’s everyone? Is Cass finally taller than me? Where’s Sam?”

“He’s on the boat,” she said, already heading towards the living room and its coffee table full of angry red bills, “I told him not to go, but you know how dumb he is, he should be around for dinner next February.”

You snorted. “Nothing’s changed since I last saw him, I see.”

You didn’t mention the last time you’d saw him had been six years ago, before he’d been dead and you’d survived.

“Exactly,” Sarah sighed. “Come in, don’t drip on the carpet.”

//////

Miraculously, Sam had survived his trip to the boat. You were in the middle of mashing the potatoes for the fancy dinner Sarah had insisted on when you heard the front door open and close, and you gasped in spite of yourself.

“Sam, is that you?”

You rounded the corner, saw it was him, and your mouth fell agape. You honestly expected it to be more emotional, but you only stood there like an idiot, your clothes ruffled, your hair falling out of its ponytail, potato masher still in hand. Not exactly the reunion you’d envisioned, but whatever.

Sam immediately dropped what he was carrying to hug you, and fireworks exploded in your chest as you responded, thanking whatever angel that watched over you that your knees didn’t buckle or tears didn’t well in your eyes.

“I missed you,” you said pathetically.

“How’ve you been?” he asked, and the voice was so familiar, so homely, it made you want to faint. You pushed it away.

“I’m good. Also officially older than you now,” you teased.

As he pulled away, a look appeared on his face like that wasn’t the first thing he’d expected you to bring up, but it flitted off in an instant.

“Yeah, I don’t like that,” he responded with his stupid grin.

You heard Cass stomping down the stairs behind you. “Something burning?”

Realization dawned on your face. “Shit, the vegetables!”

“Dollar in the jar, Auntie!” Cass sang, already retreating up the stairs.

You groaned while Sam smirked, and you rushed back into the kitchen.

“Oh great, you’re here,” Sarah said to her brother, not sounding grateful at all as she pried the steaming tray of vegetables out of the oven, “I got sauce to stir and you’ve got meat to fry, get to work.”

She shoved a spatula into Sam’s hands and stalked away.

“What the hell, woman!”

“You heard her,” you teased, and returned to your potatoes.

“What are we even making here?” he asked, uncomfortably gazing down at whatever was in the pan, “Don’t you wanna hear what I heard at the dock?”

“Does it have to do with money?” Sarah called from the pantry.

“No,” he replied awkwardly.

“Then no, I don’t.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, but you stopped him. “How’s Bucky doing?”

“He’s still acting like an asshole, ignoring my texts, so nothing new.”

“Two dollars in the jar!” Cass exclaimed triumphantly as he flounced into the kitchen.

“Goddammit, man!”

//////

Dinner and dessert were delicious, a little bit of everything since Sarah couldn’t decide on what she wanted to cook, and the yard had dried by the time everyone had finished, so Sam started a game of catch with the boys while Sarah poured you a glass of whatever alcohol she had in the cabinet. For one moment, it seemed picture perfect: the after-rain breeze wafting over your face, the love of your life where he was most relaxed, and you sitting in one of Sarah’s squashy outdoor chairs.

“Don’t talk about the bills,” Sarah started, reading the look on your face correctly. “I got ‘em handled, we’re all gonna be good.”

You remembered the angry red notices on the coffee table. “You know I have money from Stark’s will, if you just let me help-”

“It’s all good,” she said firmly. “I wanted you to be here ‘cause Sam’s been riled up about his lil friend, not ‘cause I’m some damsel in distress.”

“You’d know I’d never say that,” you said genuinely sincerely, taking a sip of whatever she’d poured into your glass. Tasted kind of sweet, a bit like pears...was it wine?

Sarah didn’t respond, so you fixed your gaze back onto the yard.

“Go high, go high!” AJ pleaded.

“If I go high, that’s gonna donk you straight in the head, y’all know that right?”

“I wanna catch it, Uncle Sam!”

“Fine, fine-”

He hurled the ball hard into the air and sent Cass and AJ running after it. Sensing your gaze on him, he looked back at you and smiled sheepishly. You stuck your tongue out in response.

“You’re so stupid,” Sarah laughed as soon as he’d looked away.

“Shut up,” you said back, grinning into your drink.

She smirked. “Just so you’re not surprised, I put some candles up in your bedroom. And I finally got rid of AJ’s old baby monitor.”

You gasped with your mouth around the rim of the glass. “You didn’t.”

“It had sentimental value!”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” you mumbled, and drank deeply.

Sarah winked. “I can be a wingwoman when I wanna be.”

You knew that all too well. You had fond memories of rocking ultra low-rise jeans in college and being seen as cool as long as Sarah was by your side, which was always, and there was that one story with the illegal toaster in your shared dorm room you still liked to tell sometimes. Once Sam and Riley entered the picture, you’d almost been too powerful.

You hadn’t realized you’d been smiling.

“I know I missed Sam, but I missed you too.”

“Hey!” Sam called. “Sarah, you still got them bigass speakers?”

“Don’t even try it,” he mumbled to Cass.

“I sold ‘em!” Sarah called back. “Why?”

“Aw, dang…”

“I have some small ones in my car,” you said, suddenly remembering you had left your things there, “Want me to go get ‘em?”

“Sam, go help her bring her stuff in!” Sarah called, three steps ahead of you like always.

“Yeah yeah, on it…”

He tossed the ball back to the boys and trooped out to the front yard. Draining your glass, you stood up to follow him.

When you got there, he was rummaging through bags.

“So, you been on any Falcon missions lately?” you asked as he slung a bag of clothes over his shoulders; you took out a small bin of hygiene products.

“Been skirting over Northern Africa,” Sam replied vaguely, “Nothing too world-ending. It’s been alright.”

“Yeah. Considering all the things that have been going on lately, I dunno if I want you to be there for the end of the world,” you joked as you ignored the walkway and trampled the grass instead.

Sam stopped dead, and because the alternative meant falling into him, you stopped with him.

“D-did I say something bad?”

He looked at you for a hard two seconds, and you forced yourself to look back. Emotion in his eyes looked like churning caramel.

“No,” he replied finally, “No, I just - I missed you, that’s all.”

The bin suddenly got a lot heavier and you wanted to drop it so you could kiss him, but somehow, you stayed put.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, “Let’s just-”

Still not knowing what you did to upset him (no-- you knew what Sam looked like when he was upset, you knew what he looked like when he was ruminating about justice or some other Steve Rogers thing, and there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d forget the look on his face when he told you he loved you for the first time, but something was up and you couldn’t find the words to describe it) you followed him inside and tramped up to your room.

It had been unoccupied for so long that cobwebs were beginning to grow in the corners of the window, so you swatted them and turned the crank on the window until the cold breeze was flowing through the room. You couldn’t stand the sudden quiet, and inhaled to say something.

You heard Sam drop the bag of clothes on the foot of your bed, and when you turned--

He was right in front of you, and you barely had time to let a gasp escape your lips before he was kissing you.

You instinctively leaned into it, and if you groaned, it was lost in your throat. You held his face because it was the only thing you knew how to do, and for a moment it was a beyond perfect day. In the simplest terms, everything became new, even though he was the only unchanging thing you’d ever known.

The temperature suddenly rose and you were aware that your back was wedged uncomfortably into your desk by the windowside, but you didn’t care, not when Sam wrapped an arm around your back like he was hugging you mid-kiss.

“Uncle Sam, Uncle Sam, mom says it’s early enough to have a bon-- eurgh!”

You pulled away with a loud pop and pushed him away from you. “What?”

“What?” Sam said blankly.

“Mom wants to have a bonfire,” AJ deadpanned, clearly going through the seven stages of grief in ten seconds, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah - uh, yeah man, be down in a minute,” Sam mumbled.

AJ narrowed his eyes. “Oookay.”

He sped-walked away.

“Stupid kid,” he said.

“I hope you didn’t traumatize him too much,” you said offhandedly, going back to whatever he’d dropped on your bed, and Sam raised an eyebrow. “You do realize there’s a you in this equation just as much as me, right?”

“You started it,” you said like a little kid.

“Oh, and I’m about to end it,” he whispered, roping his arm around your waist again, but you pushed him away.

“Nuh-uh. I wanna see if Sarah has some marshmallows.”

“Why are you always pushing me away?” he asked angrily, but he was laughing, making him come off less serious, and soon you were laughing too.

“The term is cockblocking, darling,” you replied. “And I wanna wait until later.”

He stared at you. You stared back.

“That’s seriously not the worst thing in the world, is it?”

“Okay, okay,” he caved, already going for the door, “Later, alright. But definitely tonight. Is tonight good?”

“Yeah, tonight’s good,” you said sheepishly, pulling a shirt out of your bag, “Go down without me, I’m gonna get these clothes put away.”

Sam saluted jokingly, “Yes ma’am,” before disappearing down the stairs.

//////

AJ was waiting for him when Sam came out of the front door and turned to go to the yard.

He jumped so hard his feet nearly left the grass. “Don’t do that to me, kid!”

AJ opened his mouth but saw something lying on the ground. “What’s that?”

It was a small black box, about the size of his palm. Sam scooped it up fast.

“You saw nothing,” he said quickly.

AJ was narrowing his eyes again. “Uncle Sam, what was that?”

He rolled his eyes and opened it. AJ gaped at the glistening ring inside.

“Tell no one, aight? You even tell mom and you’re dead meat. You know she tells Y/N everything,” Sam said seriously.

“Okay,” AJ replied, clearly in awe, but he blinked it away. “Can you come to the back now? I think I can throw the ball as hard as you!”

[12tardis]

That's My Jumper (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: s m u t under the cut

Requested: yes! Lovely anon asked for a part 2 to That’s My Shirt with some s m u t but not too explicit with lots of fluff. I REALLY hope this is okay! Pairing: Newt Scamander x Reader

Summary: The Part 2 to That’s My Shirt. You know Newt has a thing for you in his clothes so you decide to pull out the big guns. Enter Theseus who rudely interrupts you two, making a very cranky impatient Newt and unbeknownst to you Theseus sends Newt some inspiration in the form of a book. What happens when you find said book? Lots of flustered and shy Newt in the lead up

A/N: this is my first time writing s m u t so I’m scared and will probably hide away for a bit after this. I hope I haven’t tarnished Newt’s sweet image for anyone BUT CAN I JUST SAY- I reckon. Newt would ABSOLUTELY be a complete Hufflepuff in the bedroom: HARD-working , dedicated and patient. he would absolutely make you fall apart and then put you back together with so many tender cuddles and kisses you would just 💕 *chef kiss* Seriously though I’m S.C.A.R.E.D

Words: a whopping 5,522 (I’m tellin ya Newt doesn’t rush. But also the first like 3000 are fluff)

 It had been a couple of weeks since you’d discovered Newt’s fixation with you in his clothing. You’d learnt of this particular turn on of his when you’d worn one of his shirts to work and had come home to find a rather handsy riled up boyfriend.

 There had been a couple more heated make out sessions since then and a few lingering touches here and there but for the most part, everything remained the same despite your many attempts to engage Newt in some private time.

 To be completely fair though you had both been incredibly busy for the past few weeks. You were working extra hours in the shop to cover for an absent co-worker and Newt had been running himself ragged, tending to some rather high maintenance baby Niffler’s.

 Today finally marked a weekend that the two of you had nothing marked into your schedules, of course Newt still needed to tend to his creatures but at least you could help him. You woke to find that Newt had already risen before you and he was presumably in his case so you rolled out of bed, smiling to yourself when you spotted his favourite jumper discarded on his dresser.

 Newt walked into the kitchen where he could hear you tinkering around not long after, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head when he saw you. You were wearing one of his sweaters and nothing else. He swallowed thickly and stood frozen on the spot as he took in the way the soft knit just barely skimmed to your mid-thigh and you had rolled the sleeves up a dozen times so you could fix breakfast.

 You had let the jumper fall to one side, exposing one of your shoulders completely. “Merlin, help me,” he whispered to himself. You looked like absolute sin and he felt a hot flush spreading as his own shirt felt suddenly too tight around his neck.

 It was the way that you shimmied your hips along to the music you had playing that was the final straw for Newt. And he found himself crossing the kitchen in a few strides, gripping your hips from behind and pressing a series of kisses to your shoulder.

 You yelped in surprise, dropping your wand onto the counter as your hands flew up “Newt! You can’t sneak up on me like that!” you gasped but you leant back into him with a small hum of approval at the new found attention he was lavishing on you.

  Newt kissed his way up from your shoulder, along your neck and to your jaw “couldn’t help it,” he murmured into your ear before he spun you around in his arms, gripping your waist this time as he pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss.

 You sighed against his lips softly as your hands found their way to his hair and you gave an experimental tug oh his auburn locks, shivering at the deep groan he emitted in response.

 “Newt!”, you gasped when he suddenly lifted you by the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the kitchen counter and moving to stand between your legs before attacking your exposed neck and shoulder with open mouthed kisses, “you’re. wearing. my. jumper”, he grit out lowly between kisses before he grazed his teeth against one particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

 You couldn’t hold back your moan when you felt Newt nipping at your skin, tipping your head back against the kitchen cabinet behind you to give him better access to your neck. “Goodness, Newt”, you whimpered, knowing he was definitely leaving marks behind in his wake.

 Newt paused in his actions, looking up at you quickly when he heard your remark, his thumb rubbing in small circles on your waist “is this okay my angel?” he breathed, looking at you with big eyes.

 You took in the concern in his eyes, feeling nothing but love for the man in front of you seeing him go from needy and commanding to gentle and caring in a matter of seconds. It only fuelled your desire to know that he cared for your wellbeing and comfort so much. “Yes”, you managed to whisper before you tugged him forward by his suspenders, your lips crashing to his messily.

 Newt groaned into the kiss when you pried his lips open with your own and delved your tongue into his mouth. Before you knew it he had worked a hand underneath the fabric of the jumper and was caressing the soft skin of your back as his other hand fell to your knee. You whimpered quietly and arched into his touches, jerking back from the kiss when you heard the doorbell ring.

 “No no no just ignore it,” he breathed out, pressing his lips back to the marks on your neck that he’d just made and you melted back into his arms before the doorbell rang again. You pushed him back firmly with your hands on his chest, ignoring the whine of frustration he let out and twisting out of his arms “I need pants”, you giggled, racing from the room.

 Newt tried to catch you but you were too fast so he huffed to himself, stomping to the front door ready to give the intruder a piece of his mind for rudely interrupting. He flung the door open, running his mouth before he even stopped to think.

 “Theseus, what do you want?”

 Theseus raised his eyebrows as he looked back at his younger brother, taking a few moments to stare back at him dumbly because - did Newt really just use a rude tone with him? “Uh...yeah good to see you too, little brother”, Theseus murmured slowly.

 Newt scratched at the back of his neck and looked back at Theseus’ awkwardly when he realised how blunt he’d just been “sorry...I was just...a little preoccupied” he murmured, scrounging for his words as he stepped aside “do come in.”

 Theseus frowned at Newt’s cagey behaviour, taking in his dishevelled appearance, noticing his crinkled shirt and his hair that was tousled more than usual. He had at least a dozen questions but they all died on his lips when he spotted you wandering into the room, waving happily at him.

 Suddenly everything clicked into place as his eyes honed in on the obvious love bites decorating your neck. Your hair was tousled too and was that Newt’s jumper you were wearing?

 “Ohhhhhhhhh I seeeeee,” Theseus crooned, looking back at his brother with a wide grin and wiggling his eyebrows obnoxiously.

Newt immediately went rigid, standing a little taller because he knew that tone was never a good one. “What? What do you see?” he sighed, his patience once again wearing thin.

 “I’m interrupting your INTIMATE time”, Theseus whispered with a shit eating grin when Newt flushed darkly and began to shake his head violently “no I- we haven’t...you have the wrong idea!” he sputtered and Theseus raised an eyebrow in response “what? You haven’t?” he said with a scandalised expression.

 Newt huffed in embarrassment, only growing more flustered “Theseus, shut up or I swear I will hex y-“, he immediately shut his mouth when you sauntered over to them obliviously, hugging Theseus warmly in greeting before you curled your arm around Newt’s waist. “Theseus! I’m so happy to see you. I was just starting to prepare breakfast, won’t you join us?”

 And Theseus looked back at you with a bright smile, nodding quickly as he shrugged his coat off “Yes, I think I will.” he said before he tossed the coat at Newt, chuckling quietly at the scowl he sent back at him. “I hope I’m not intruding on you two lovebirds”, he added with a wink in Newt’s direction.

                                 *     *     *     *     *     *

Newt legged it to the bedroom when he heard your loud shriek a few hours later, looking at you frantically and letting out a deep breath when he saw you standing in front of the mirror.

 “NEWT you didn’t tell me I had all these hickeys on display all through breakfast!” you cried, tracing your fingertips over the marks.

 Newt let out a sigh, smiling crookedly as he wound his arms around you from behind again, hooking his chin over your shoulder and pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve seen Theseus littered with them plenty of times before?” he offered in a lame attempt to quell your embarrassment.

 “Gee thanks that’s makes it all better, Newt”, you scoffed as you rolled your eyes but you couldn’t stay angry long when he was looking back at you with his puppy dog eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me Newton Scamander,” you sighed with a fond smile, turning around in his arms and tucking your face into his neck. 

 And then it was Newt’s turn to be humiliated the next day when Theseus’ owl dropped a parcel for him and he opened it to find a rather well known erotic novel. Newt gasped and quickly tucked it away, double checking he was alone before he peeked into the cover seeing his brother had inscribed it to him.

 Newt,

 This book basically taught me everything I know. Use it wisely.

And you’re welcome.

 -T.S

 Newt stared at the inscription for a few minutes, peeking over his shoulder before he curiously flicked through the book, his cheeks turning beet red and his eyes widening. “Merlin, no” he breathed, quickly stashing the book away thanking the stars that you were at work.                                   *     *    *     *     *     *

A few days later you wandered into Newt’s study where he was hunched over scribbling away in his journal. It was obvious he’d been working hard all day. “Honey, did you remember to eat today?”, you sighed, coming up behind him and gently running your fingers through his hair as you curled your other arm around his shoulders. You already knew the answer because you could see he hadn’t touched any of the food in the pantry or the fridge.

 Newt smiled immediately when he heard you, leaning back into your arms and peering up at you “oh I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even hear you get in,” he said, quickly getting to his feet, taking your hands into his own and smiling apologetically at you “I got a little carried away writing. How was your day?” He gently cupped your cheek in his palm before he made to move towards the kitchen “let me fix you some tea.”

 “Get back here”, you laughed as you caught him by the back of his shirt, tugging him back towards you where you spun him around to face you and curled both of your arms around his neck “where’s my kisses?” you pouted slightly up at him.

 Newt let out a noise of surprise when you hoisted him back, looking down at you with an adoring smile at your expression “oh how rude of me”, he grinned, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle and tender kiss, his hands framing your waist.

 You let out a happy hum against his lips, breaking apart from him for air eventually and pressing a few kisses down the line of his jaw as you took his hands again. You tipped your head aside when you felt his lips brushing against the fading marks on your neck “Wait what is that?”

 You reached behind him, plucking the book Theseus had sent from the bookcase “goodness when did you get this?” and Newt felt his stomach drop and he blushed a deep pink “it’s not mine!” He barked, snatching the book from you quickly “Theseus sent it- I didn’t ask him to! He said- well he said it was a good place for me to learn. I swear to you I-I didn’t buy it!” He stammered, looking back at you desperately as he opened the book to show you Theseus’ handwriting.

 “Newt honey relax. Breathe!”, you cut in when you saw how worked up he was getting, cupping his face firmly in your hands and looking him in the eyes “My love I’m not upset. I believe you, it seems exactly the sort of thing your brother would do,” you said rolling your eyes fondly.

 “But even if you did buy it yourself I wouldn’t be angry.”

 Newt looked back at you with wide eyes, feeling a flood of relief to know you weren’t upset with him “you’re not angry?” He repeated, looking at you still somewhat anxiously and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorably flustered he was “no of course not. I know we’re learning a lot of new things together and I want you to be comfortable so if reading this“, you took the book from his hand and held up up between you both “helps you feel confident then I’m completely on board.”

 Newt bit his lip when you pried the book from his grasp, shaking his head and taking it back from you “even so, it’s not mine and I’m not taking any advice from my brother,” he turned around to shove the book into his desk drawer but he realised his mistake when you spotted the other book he had stashed away there. The book he actually had been studying.

 You snatched the book up, your mouth dropping open when you realised it was a muggle book on human arousal and anatomy and now it was your turn to grow flustered. “W-What’s this one?”, you squeaked out.

 Newt quickly took the book and set it down on his desk, taking your hands in his own as yet another blush flooded his cheeks “well, when Theseus did send me that book I couldn’t help but think doing a little research- some proper research wouldn’t hurt” he explained slowly, watching you closely and noting the way your eyes had darkened ever so slightly.

 “I wanted to know how to make you feel good, to know how to make you comfortable and to make sure you enjoy our time together. So I got this from a muggle store a few days ago,” he murmured, looking back at you shyly now because you were staring at him with a new intensity.

 You bit down on your lip hard as you grappled with the fact that your sweet, caring and innocent boyfriend had gone out of his way to buy such a book. In a public setting at that! And all for your benefit. You couldn’t deny the heat that was growing in your stomach, imagining Newt studying the book while you were at work.

“Did you...have you read a lot?”, you asked eventually.

 And Newt smiled sheepishly back at you, nodding slowly as he scratched at the back of his neck, willing the ground to swallow him whole now. “Y/N it’s not...I love you. And I love our time together, and I only ever want you to be comfortable. And if we’re never ready to take anything further then that’s completely fine with me. I can die happy just getting to spend my days with you,” he said honestly, beginning to ramble on nervously again.

 “I just-I thought perhaps over the past few weeks that we were headed in that direction. I’m so sorry if I had the wrong idea. I would never ever push you to do anything you didn’t want to do I w-“

 You cut him off with a gentle kiss, gripping him by his shirt collar and pulling back with coy smile “Relax, my love,” you murmured, tangling your fingers in his hair and scratching at his scalp like you knew always calmed him down “we are most definitely headed in that direction.”

                         *     *     *     *     *     *

You could tell Newt was reluctant to touch you or kiss you anything beyond short and sweet over the next few days, obviously still nervous he had overstepped his boundaries. You weren’t sure how many different ways you could tell him you weren’t upset with him.

 You had been trying coax him along, attempting to deepen your kisses each time he would actually touch you but you were left increasingly frustrated when he would pull away from you, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple before he would retreat into his case. You were going to have to persuade him another way.

 Newt was sat in his study, reading over his notes but his mind was fixated on you. He felt guilty because it was the weekend and he should have been spending quality time with you but he was too ashamed to even be around you after that episode a few days ago. He loved and cherished you more than you could ever know and he was angry with himself thinking he may have lead you to feel uncomfortable.

 Of course all he had to do was actually listen to a word you had said to him, but he was too busy being caught up in his own mind like he always was when it came to you. He had just built the resolve to go and talk to you and apologise properly as he pushed back from his desk and turned to the door. But his mind went completely blank when he saw you.

 You’d been standing in the doorway behind him for some time now, wearing his shirt. The same shirt that had started this whole thing all those weeks ago but this time you wore the shirt with nothing else but your lingerie. You were fidgeting with the cuffs self-consciously as you debated running away and ditching your plan altogether but when you saw the ravenous expression on Newt’s face you felt your confidence build.

 “Y/N”, he choked out as you slowly sauntered over to him and he was gaping at you, not quite knowing where to look as he took you in. His palms were itching to touch you as he took in the way the hem of the shirt grazed the top of your thighs and he felt his mouth run dry as his eyes trailed down from your face to your chest, seeing how you’d left most of the buttons undone, allowing him to see the most tantalising strip of skin. He was definitely sweating now.

 His reactions only spurred you on and you gripped his shoulders as you slowly straddled him on his chair, sucking in a breath when you noticed how dark his eyes had turned.

“Y/N...Merlin my darling you look absolutely incredible. Are you trying to kill me?” he breathed, his hands coming to rest on your hips and you realised he was obviously trying not to stare at your body and holding himself back from touching you like he really wanted to. That wouldn’t do.

  You took his hands in your own, pushing down your own nerves as you pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss, guiding his hands up to your breasts. Newt groaned against your lips, cupping your breasts firmly in his large hands, a shiver running down his spine when you moaned in response and arched into him.

 Newt was quick to take the opportunity to delve his tongue into your mouth, his tongue brushing with yours. And when you broke apart from him for air he tucked his face to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses along your skin, nipping at your flesh before he soothed his tongue over the same spot. “Newt”, you gasped out, gripping his shoulders tightly.

 Newt closed his eyes tightly as he skimmed one hand down to rest on your thigh, his fingertips teasing at your inner thigh “tell me what you want, Y/N” he murmured eventually, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest only causing you to feel even more worked up. “I need to hear your words, angel” he said right into your ear when you still didn’t answer him.

 You gripped his shoulders tightly as you let out a quiet whimper at his tone. Your heart was racing wildly in your chest as you felt simultaneously shy and turned on all at once. You forced yourself to look at him despite how shy you suddenly felt “I want you...to show me what you learnt from that book”, you said, rocking your hips down against his experimentally and biting back a moan when you felt his tell-tale hardness against you through his pants.

 Newt gritted his teeth from the pleasure that rippled through him, gripping your hips firmly in his hands to still you. He didn’t allow himself to get carried away just yet as he fixed you with a serious expression. “Darling girl, are you sure? You know your comfort is all that matters to me. I will wait my whole life if I need to”, he murmured, pushing his arousal aside for the time being to make sure you were entirely confident in your decision.

 “I’m sure Newt. I’ve been sure all week but you would barely look at me,” you sighed, moving to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your forehead to his “I love you and I know I’m always safe in your hands. If you’re comfortable, I want you to show me all the new things you’ve learnt.”

 Newt nodded and cupped your cheek gently, looking back at you “I love you. So very much.”, he whispered before he stood up, hoisting you up in his arms by the backs of your thighs in one fluid motion, the mood immediately shifting back to one of passion and lust.

 He carried you through the flat easily, shoving the bedroom door open and then laying you down on the bed, wasting no time in lowering himself over you, pinning you down and looking at you with the same ravenous expression from earlier “you have no idea how utterly sinful you look right now”, he breathed out as he slowly skimmed his hands down your waist to your thighs again.

 He captured your lips in a deep kiss, rolling his hips down against yours with a low groan as he gripped the hem of your shirt, breaking the kiss to look up at you in question “angel, do you want to keep this on?” he practically purred out, nipping at your earlobe as he tugged at the fabric of the hem teasingly.

 You gasped when you felt his teeth against you, your hips bucking up on their own accord, drawing another groan from him “k-keep it on. But...but keep going” you stuttered, parting your legs for him as you felt the heat building between them.

 Newt nodded and began to trail kisses down your neck and down the valley of your breasts, stopping occasionally as he muttered sweet words at you “so gorgeous for me...so beautiful and stunning. Can you feel what you do to me?” he murmured, rocking his hips against yours, grinding his hard bulge against your mound, relishing the noises of pleasure you made in response.

 You had to admit you were taken aback by how vocal and chatty he was being but you couldn’t get enough of it, knowing you could work yourself up into a frenzy just listening to him talk. He was busy peppering your bra clad cleavage with kisses as he slowly trailed a hand up under the hem of the shirt, his fingertips barely brushing the edge of your panties before he paused to peer up at you again “May I?”

 Your lips parted with a small gasp as you felt his hand slip between your legs and you nodded quickly, looking down at him desperately when he didn’t move his hand any further “angel, I need to hear you”, he repeated his sentiment from earlier but this time much firmer, causing you to bite your lip and whimper quietly.

 “Yes Newt, please touch me,” you felt your cheeks warm at your wanton tone but Newt simply pressed another set of kisses down your throat as he cupped your warm mound over your panties in one swift movement, his cock jerking in his slacks at the wetness he felt on his palm.

 You let out another gasp as you arched your hips up into his touch, tugging him up by his shirt and kissing him deeply. Newt felt like a man possessed with every beautiful noise you let out and he kissed you back eagerly as he began to rub over your mound slowly but firmly, his fingertips teasing at the edge of your panties with each pass.

 He paused again when his fingertips found their way into the top band of your panties and you nodded wildly before he could question you again “Yes Newt please!”, your pleading turning into a breathy moan when he slipped his hand into your panties quickly, rubbing his fingers over your wet slit as he sucked at the sensitive skin of your neck.

 His hand delved lower between your thighs until his long pointer finger was running over your entrance and he used his thumb to rub at the small nub between your folds experimentally, pleased with himself when you cried out and jerked against him in pleasure “Merlin, Newt! Do that again”

 He hummed against your shoulder in concentration as he worked on repeating the same motion, rubbing you clit in small circles while focusing on each and every sound you were making, making a mental note of what you enjoyed.

 “You’re so beautiful my angel”, Newt murmured, looking up at you and trying to commit your expression of pleasure to his memory. He was truly a man possessed now as he dedicated himself to drawing those incredible sounds from you, skimming his other hand up and down your body slowly, noting every single area of sensitive skin that had you gasping or arching into his touch.

 “Do you want my mouth on you, darling?”

 You looked back at him with big eyes, swallowing thickly “I don’t...know what you mean”

 Newt smiled against your shoulder, propping himself up on his elbows to gaze down at you “I’ll show you but remember. You’re in control here my love”, he murmured seriously, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips “you’re the one in control here. Anything you don’t like, or even not sure about- you tell me and I’ll stop okay?”

 He waited for your affirmation before he began to trail kisses down your body, looking up at you when his face was finally nestled between your legs and he held your gaze as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh causing you to shiver, your hands bunching into the sheets below you in anticipation.

 Newt kissed over your thighs, sucking a few little marks to your soft skin as he hooked his fingers in the waist band of your panties, slowly peeling them down and off of you, letting out a breath at the sight of your wet slit. “Y/N, you are perfect”, he whispered, reaching up to take one of your hands, threading his fingers with yours as he slowly lowered his mouth to your pulsing mound, licking a broad stripe up your centre and closing his eyes when you bucked your hips in response.

 “NEWT!”, you were panting now as you gripped his hand in your own, your other hand flying to weave into his hair on its own accord and you cried out when he hummed against you in response.

 He used his tongue to stimulate your throbbing clit as he slowly sunk a finger inside you, his mouth dropping open at the feeling of your velvet walls accommodating him, your muscles clamping down on his one digit. “Y/N,” he whispered, grinding his own hips into the bed while you threw your head back in pleasure, feeling completely overwhelmed from the pleasure your boyfriend was bringing you.

 “Baby, tell me how that feels?” he looked up at you as he crooked the finger inside of you, taking in the way you gasped and whined when he rubbed over a particular spot inside you. You were too far gone in your pleasure to string a coherent sentence together so he relied on your little gasps and moans to make sure you were enjoying what he was doing.

 He carefully worked a second finger inside you, completely entranced watching you accommodate the extra intrusion. And once both fingers were buried inside you he sealed his lips around your clit, sucking and then groaning loudly against you when you tugged on his hair in response, rolling your hips up against him

 “Newt, oh my stars Newt!”

 He continued to work thrust his fingers inside of you, making sure to pass over that spot on each stroke and when he thought you were close to your release he moved back up your body. He tucked his face of your shoulder, pressing kiss after kiss to your delicate skin, holding you close against him as he worked his fingers even faster and deeper inside of you, his thumb rubbing at your clit in tight circles.

 “Let go for me, angel. Let yourself go”, he murmured lowly into your ear, watching you in rapt concentration as you tensed up not a moment later, crying out loudly as you clenched around his fingers rhythmically. “That’s it, darling girl. Just like that.”

 Newt skimmed his lips over your love bites as he rubbed you through your release, carefully working his fingers free and holding you close, his hands soothing over your back as you worked through the aftershocks.

 He pressed kiss after kiss to your head, once again murmuring sweet nothings to you and you melted in his arms, your body going completely lax.

 “Oh, darling you don’t have to”, he murmured, gripping your wrist when you worked your hand down his body.

 “But I want to Newt, I wanna make you feel good too,” you said honestly as you continued to trail your hand down to the button of his pants.

 Newt shook his head, taking your hand and lifting it to his mouth to brush his lips over it “this was about you, angel,” he murmured, smiling sheepishly at you a moment later “besides I already...uh...”, he trailed off with a blush, cringing slightly at the sticky sensation he now noticed in his pants.

 “You...oh!”, you breathed with wide eyes when you finally understood what he’d meant, pressing your lips to his in a soft and reassuring kiss, a little flattered by the notion anyway. “Well, I’d like to read that book of yours. So I can know how to make you feel good.”

 Newt blushed even more at the images that he conjured up then, pressing another series of gentle kisses to your jaw “I somehow think you won’t be needing it,” he smiled, holding his hands up at the look you shot him in response “okay okay if it will make you happy then of course! I’m just saying you always make me feel good anyway,” he murmured as he slowly sat up to go and clean himself up.

 You sat up with him, cupping his cheek in your palm as you looked back at him lovingly “that was incredible. You were incredible. I’ve never felt so much...so good before,” and you smiled adoringly when he smiled widely back at you in pride, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips “I love you”, he murmured as he got up to his feet and headed for the bathroom.

 You watched him wander off, laying back on the bed with a blissed out smile “you should you know?” you called out after him.

 And Newt glanced back over his shoulder at you in confusion before he stepped into the en-suite “should what?”

 “You should thank your brother!”, you shouted to him, giggling at the noise of shock he let out in response.

 “I will do no such thing! He is to know nothing about any of this. Ever”, he muttered and he was back your side on a flash, clambering back into the bed and wrapping his arms around you, tugging the blankets up around you both before he relaxed.

 “He is the one that got you this shirt though”, you teased after a moment, giggling again at the dark expression that crossed Newt’s face.

 “Y/N! I don’t want to hear you mention my brother again in our bed.” he huffed out, scowling at you when you continued to laugh.

 “You’re just so cute when you’re jealous”, you cooed, skimming your fingertips through his hair soothingly.

 “I’m NOT jealous. I’m just territorial.” he said simply as he skimmed his thumb over some of the marks he’d made on your neck. And he smiled when it was your turn to grow flustered.

 “I mean that in the sense that you are my pride and my heart- not an item to be owned,” he murmured and you looked back at him, shaking your head as your felt your heart somehow fill with even more love for this man that never seemed to stop taking your breath away. PLEASE SEND ME REQUESTS! 

 -MASTERLIST HERE- 

[justasparkwritings]

Troll In Luv: Part 2

Previous: Troll in Luv Pt. 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers; Non-Idol AU, Angst eventual Fluff

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: Swearing, Making Out, Kissing

Summary: Your hand is forced, and the only way to come out on top is to reckon with your ex and apologize for past transgressions... er tweets.  

Note: This fic is dedicated to, written for, the incomparable @xjoonchildx​, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it it’s totally trash... jk. mostly. 

This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange!

Banner by me.

Tag List (is this how you do it no ones ever asked before): @unicornbabylover​

Thursday: Jimin’s Apartment

           Jimin hadn’t just moved on up, he’s leveled up completely. Gone were the Ikea pieces that he’d spent hours assembling, only to realize they’d given him the wrong part and he’d had to trek back to the store to rectify it. Gone were the plastic plates and cups he’d collected from Penny Pitchers at the bar across campus. Gone were the free t-shirts and dance company sweats he’d torn or cut to make them more comfortable for practice.

          In their place, Jimin had picked out custom fabrics to cover his chairs, found small batch glass plates and bowls to line his open kitchen shelves. He’d sourced a Persian rug from a little hole in the wall shop that had been in the neighborhood for seventy years and had runners made from their remnants. He’d curated his space, and his wardrobe, to fit the Jimin he’d always been. Each piece made up for the times that he could only hold onto cheap knock offs, embarrassed when someone noticed a shirt he was wearing from a bag they’d donated to Goodwill.

          Stepping into his space, it was hard not to gawk. Every inch of this apartment screamed maturity, knocking you off your feet. Had you been missing out on this for years? This Jimin, adult Jimin, was far more impressive than you’d realized. It was hard not to feel your heart hurting, yearning for the years you had been together, the moments shared, the love that had blossomed in your youth.

          This was going to be more devastating than you realized.

          “Can I get you something to drink?” Jimin asked. He took your jacket and purse, hanging them on the steampunk inspired coat rack.

          “Um, water would be good, thanks,” You said, moving through the entry way to the kitchen. “How long have you lived here?”

          “Uh, two years? But I just finished decorating maybe a month ago,”

          “It’s incredible,”

          “Thanks, how’s the magazine?”

          “A fucking shit show,” You took the glass from his hands, careful not to let his fingers brush against yours.

          “Hoseok mentioned that things have been getting more, challenging?”

          “Yeah, that’s the nice way of putting it.”

          “Hm,” Jimin hummed, sipping his own water.

          “How’s your job? I don’t, I know Hoseok and Tae and Jungkook have told me about what you do, but, what do you do?” You phrased your question carefully, knowing precisely what he has been up to. You’ve seen his campaigns, his work on water bottles and stickers around the city, not to mention his designs being picked up by Target and thrown onto pillows, blankets and beach towels. He’d won an award last year for his artwork that had been picked up and used as the home screen on the most recent Mac Book, Mac Book Pro and Mac Book Air. He was being considered as a new graphic artist for Penguin Publishing, working on new book jackets as well as negotiating a seven-figure deal with Target, only to be outbid by Costco.

          Jimin was everywhere, but he absolutely didn’t need to know that you knew that. He didn’t need to know how angry you were that neither of you actually ‘won’ your breakup.

          “Well, I graduated with a degree in graphic design and a minor in dance. After I discovered I didn’t want to dance professionally, I got a job in graphics. I kept working on projects and three years ago started my own company. My work has been in a lot of different places, which, I’m sure you’ve seen,” Jimin sipped his water, pouted lips glistening as the liquid graced over them.

          “Awfully cocky,” You smirked, long lasting Charlotte Tilbury, Glastonberry purple lipstick marking the glass.  

          “Or I know you well enough to know that you’ve been keeping tabs on me,” Jimin had no need to be cocky, he knew he was right. All he had to do was be confident.

          “That’s an awfully big assumption for you to make. But it’s cool, it explains why your apartment is Architectural Digest ready. Unless, you have a girlfriend with excellent taste who designed it all,” You were baiting him, and in the internal monologue that never shut the fuck up, you were beating yourself up over the fact that Erin had been correct.

          Jimin rolled his eyes, “Why don’t you just ask if I’m seeing someone?”

          “Now why would I be that direct?” You questioned.

           “You’ve been sitting behind a computer screen, trolling me for years instead of just talking to me. I should’ve expected you to find some roundabout way to ask if I’m single,” Jimin set his glass on the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest, defiance brooding in his dark eyes.

           “Look, I know it’s fucked up, that I’m fucked up. It is the sole purpose of me going to therapy,” You explained.

           “I would hope so,” Jimin scoffed. He’d never been indifferent to you, but you supposed you couldn’t expect anything less than anger after years of unwarranted harassment. Mentally, you kicked yourself over the fact that Claire had been right.

           “Jimin,” You sighed.

           “What?” He snapped.

           “I’m sorry,” You stared into his softening eyes, the ones you’d spent years trying to replace, burning the memories into your retinas once again.

           “Sorry for what?”

           “For everything,”

           “Care to be more specific?” He moved towards you, gliding from the far side of the kitchen to stand opposite you, elbows leaning against the cool granite of the countertop he custom ordered.

           “I have loved you since we were fifteen, okay? When you left, when I left,” You sighed, there was never going to be a poetic or graceful way to lay out your tumultuous feelings, but you owed it to yourself to try. “I never told you how much I loved you, or how much it hurt when you just, you moved on so quickly, and I didn’t know how to tell you that I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want to break up, I didn’t want to fall into another cliché of high school sweethearts preemptively breaking each other into pieces because of college. I wanted us to be the cliché that lasted, that worked. But you just, I’ve been hurting for years and I didn’t think you’d care, because you didn’t back then, so why would you now?”

           “So, you harassed me on the internet?” Jimin asked.

           You rolled your eyes. “It didn’t start out that way,”

           “How did it start?”

           “Someone sent me a link to your profile, and I just, retweeted with a stupid comment and you responded. In my gut, I thought, I felt, that you knew it was me. Why else would you engage with it? You didn’t engage with anyone else,” Your rehearsed explanation made perfect sense, you’d spent years crafting it, tweaking the language, ensuring there were no loopholes.

           “You checked?” Jimin’s smirk was back. Fuck him, it looked good against his angelic eyes.

           “I’m a journalist, Jimin,”

           “Still, you checked,”

           “The point is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been needling you for years. I’m sorry I didn’t just tell you how much I loved you, I’m sorry I’ve been a massive bitch, rivaling only Heather Chandler. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, and I’m sorry Claire wrapped you up in this stupid article that I am no longer participating in. I’m sorry that even after I changed my fucking Twitter handle and you knew it was me, that I kept being a mythic bitch. I’m sorry for being the villain in your life.”

           “I’m sorry too,” Jimin rushed to say.

           “What do you have to be sorry for?”

           “I was a coward back then, too scared by what Yoongi and Namjoon said about dating in college. I should’ve, I should’ve fought for us more than I did.” He admitted.

          It hadn’t taken him long to realize the colossal mistake he had made, but by then Yoongi and Joon had planted the seeds in his mind that no one in their right mind makes it with their high school sweetheart. What a naïve notion, to stay with the same person you’ve loved since puberty.

           “Remember when you came back for my dad’s wedding?” You asked.

           “I regret that,” Jimin told you.

           “I cried for two days,”

           “I’m sorry,” He couldn’t look at you, his years of unsaid apologies waiting behind his pouting lips.

           “It was such a dick move.”

           Jimin smiled softly, he had missed the way you over exaggerated your speech, adding emphasis to superlatives, the slight way your eyes rolled when you were trying to make a point. A habit you’d developed in high school, he was glad to see you hadn’t replaced it with a new inane ritual. He still very much liked this one, found it endearing even after years of missing out on it.

           “I know,” He conceded.

           “I can only assume it was on purpose.”

           “It, yeah, yeah, Hoseok said you were getting cozy with Seokjin,” He explained.

           “I was,” You nodded.

           “Was?”

           “He broke my heart, sometime after you showed up to New Years with what’s her name on your arm and proceeded to make the after-hours dance party in Dirty Dancing look like the Russian Ballet. Oh, and can’t forget you nearly fucking her in the kitchen as the ball dropped, which Yoongi made a very dirty joke about it.”

          You hadn’t kept a list of all his transgressions… but you had kept a list of all his transgressions, all his missteps, all his calculated moves, only to plan your own counterstrike. Erin had been right, you had started the Twitter battle, but Jimin had poisoned the blood between you long before you tweeted about it.

           “I was drunk,” He excused.

           “You did it on purpose,” You rolled your eyes, Jimin had forgotten how cute that was too.

           “I did,” He conceded.

           “I wasn’t fucking Seokjin on the dance floor for everyone to see,” You tossed back the rest of your water, eyes glancing at the living room where a framed photo remained. Prom, you in his arms, Hoseok beside you, Namjoon eyeing Caitlin Anderson, his date that you had made a point to not allow in the photo. She wasn’t sticking around, why ruin your group pic? (Namjoon still was pissed about this, though he hadn’t spoken to her since he left for college.) You were all too preoccupied with rules to drink, do drugs or smoke, so while your classmates were getting wrecked, you went bowling until 2AM. Jimin had climbed into your bedroom, after supposedly dropping you off, and you’d promised each other the world.

          It didn’t last through summer.

           Jimin sighed, a hand running through his bleached locks, tugging gently at the ends. “You weren’t.”

           “You didn’t have anything to prove, Jimin. I had already gotten the message. Too fucking loud and too fucking clear.” Your voice became small, the heart of your hurt, the source of your pain, bubbling up to the surface.

           “What was that message?” Jimin noted the change in your dynamic, your hand moving to play with the earring in your top hole, twirling it thoughtlessly as your eyes drug themselves from your prom photo back to him.

           “That you didn’t want me,” You whispered.

           Jimin let it sit in the air, the real reason you had harassed him, the real reason you were sitting in his kitchen, tears forming, lip trembling. This entire time, you had thought he didn’t want you anymore, didn’t love you, didn’t think you were his sun and moon.

           “Is that why Seokjin broke up with you?” He asked.

           “That he didn’t want me?” You questioned. He was toeing the line, danger signs would’ve been flashing, horns and sirens wailing telling Jimin to back the fuck off.

           “No, that you still wanted me,” He clarified.

           “Yeah, something like that,” You mumbled.

           “I wanted you too,” Jimin admitted.

           “Bullshit,”

           “You think I would bring around random girls if I didn’t think you would be there? That I would parade around, embarrassing myself, just to show off whoever was on my arm? Do you really think that little of me?” Jimin demanded, his anger that he’d long thought he’d worked through coming back to the surface. He was no longer calm, no longer sympathetic to your puppy dog eyes.

           “Jimin, I don’t know what to think of you! You broke my heart because of something Yoongi said, Yoongi, who doesn’t date let alone love anyone other than Jungkook, and then proceeded to what, listen to Namjoon?” Standing from your seat, you pushed the stool back under the immaculate white countertop. “What the fuck did they know about our relationship that I didn’t? Why were they making decisions about us, us, you and me, Jimin? Why did they have power and I had none?”

           “I was, I was scared,” He admitted, his voice meek against your thunderous admissions.

           “Bullshit! I was scared, you were cavalier.”

           “You don’t meet your person when you’re fifteen!” He yelled, anger coming to a head.

           “Are you fucking kidding me?” You’re yelling back, returning decibel for decibel. Stool pushed back, hand through your hair, blazer coming off to reveal the cheetah print blouse underneath. It was too hot in his apartment, too hot to have this conversation sober, too hot to be staring at him, the man who knew everything, everything, about you. It was too much for him to be confessing that he was a pussy.

           “No, I’m not,”

           “Park Jimin, you fucking asshole.”

           “I’m so-

           “No, no you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t be standing in front of me, trying to pawn off your emotions as fodder in some naïve fallacy that says you can’t grow and mature with the person you love at fifteen. You are absolutely fucking unbelievable Jimin.” Untucking your shirt, you moved towards the living room and the open window.

           “I’m so-

           “Shut up! You don’t get it, do you?” You asked, the tears stinging your eyes begging to be released.

           “Get what?” He muttered. You hear him plop down on the couch, and you know he’s slumped back, legs resting against the reclaimed wood coffee table, hands tucked behind his head, watching you.

           “You, Jimin! Do you understand who you are?” You turned, the cool air soothing against your shoulders.

           “I thought I did but apparently not, so enlighten me,” He requested.

           “You love harder than anyone I’ve ever met. You crave love, you seek it out from your friends and family and yes, your girlfriends. You remember every detail, every expression, every glance carries weight in your eyes. You love the hardest, you hurt the deepest, and when you said you didn’t think we’d make it, what else was I supposed to do other than believe you?”

           “I was an idiot! I was a child!” Jimin ran an unsteady hand through his locks, again, his nervous habit coming out in full force. “I was 18 and all I wanted was to elope, but I couldn’t because I had to make a name for myself. My parents demanded it from me, what was I to do, get lost in you? I was already drowning Y/N! All I breathed was you and fuck me if I wasn’t ready to commit to you but I knew you didn’t want to be the Topanga to my Cory so what could I do?”

           “There are a lot of things you could’ve done! You could’ve said something to me. You could’ve been amicable. You could’ve shared your fears and your hopes with me, Jimin. You didn’t have to parade around with girlfriend after girlfriend and tell me you didn’t want us anymore!”

           “I thought you were falling in love with someone else!” Jimin said.

           “Why does it matter what I was doing? Whenever you saw me, did you see me flaunting my new relationship in your face? Why did you, why would you think that I was ever over you?”

           “You were with Seokjin for two years,” Jimin answered, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

           “Oh, so I have a stable relationship and you assume it’s okay to be a dick?” You quipped. Sitting on the couch, your body relishes in the ease with which you let off a little tension.

           “No, you had someone else,” Jimin turned, arm propped on the back of the couch, body facing yours.

           “Doesn’t mean you had the right to treat me the way you did,” You hadn’t been this close to him in years, his breath mingling with yours. You could see the crinkles near his eyes, from moments when his laughter was the only thing on his mind.

           “I wanted to marry you,” Jimin reached his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers, still a perfect fit.

           “But you didn’t,” You remind him.

           “I haven’t,” Jimin’s eyes were set your hand, your ring finger naked, heated gaze willing a diamond to be made out of the hair around you.

           “Jimin,”

           “We’ve been here for hours, we’ve rehashed the past, but not once have you said why you kept trolling me,” He turned his eyes back to yours, pleading softly for you to tell him that what he thinks you mean is truth, not willful thinking.

           “Because, Jimin. You’re so fucking dense sometimes,” You rolled your eyes, how did he not get it?

           “Because isn’t an-

           “I love you! You fucking asshole. I love you. I keep tabs on you because I’m still harboring some insanely poetic, pathetic, sociopathic love for you, Jimin. My first love, my only love. I know I’ve been a massive twat, I know it, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ruining the last five or so years of your life, I’m sorry for tweeting at you and about you. I’m sorry that I never said anything to you during college. I’m sorry I asked your mom not to tell you that we still talk. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go. I’m sorry that I still love you.”

          The tears fell freely, cascading down your cheeks and neck, path only interfered when Jimin brought your face into his hands, thumbs moving meticulously to wipe the falling droplets. He’d always loved cupping your cheeks, holding your face delicately between his hands. He loved the intimacy, the care, the inability to hide anything from each other.

           “Marry me,” Jimin said, voice clear over your sobs.

           “What?”

           “Let’s go to city hall, get a license, let’s just, get married. Now, right now,”

           “Jimin, we’ve hardly-

           “I know my mom talks to you, she told me. She’s always told me. I still, I still talk to your dad, too. He texts me like once a week,” Jimin confessed.

           “You do?” You couldn’t believe it, your parents knew too?

           “I’ve always loved you, always. I knew-

           “You asshole! You fucking suck! Why did you make me pour out my heart like this only to tell me you fucking knew? Was this a ruse? Oh my god, are you The Duke? Am I Daphne? Quick, make haste to the gallery wall in your hallway so we can stare at the photos of your years without me and pretend that our hands touching isn’t the sexiest thing to happen since Regé Jean Page boxed shirtless,” You rambled in between wiping your dripping nose against your blouse sleeve. Words spilled from you, tumbled out from your lips at a speed you hadn’t reached in years. Jimin always knew how to get you so worked up air seemed like a luxury.  

           Jimin stood to retrieve a tissue box from the bathroom.

           “This wasn’t a ruse; I didn’t know you’d come over to talk about our relationship, our past. I was going to reach out I just, I thought you hated me.”

           He sat back down, this time closer, knee bumping against yours, leaning in to speak in docile tones.

           “When have I ever hated you?” You questioned.

           “I can think of at least one hundred occasions where you’ve said that you have,”

           “Such an-

           “And you keep calling me names,” Jimin rolled his eyes. You’ve always loved how he rolled his eyes, subtle and gentle, but deadly and effective.

           “I love you means you don’t have to say you’re sorry, so I won’t say it again,” You countered. You couldn’t hide the smile on your lips.

           “But I’ll say it, because while you’ve been angrily tweeting me, a poor attempt at showing your feelings,” Jimin braced for the contact of your hand against his shoulder, a gentle hit, accompanied by your own eyeroll and scoff. “Listen, I too have been an asshole. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I do accept your apologies, and I do forgive you. I love you, always have,” Jimin had taken both your hands in his, and gently, he placed kisses on each of your knuckles.

           “Jimin,” You murmured.

           “What Y/N?”

           “I accept your apologies. I love you, so much, and I’m sorry I wasted the last few years instead of just saying that I wanted us to try again.” You turned your hands over, mimicking his gesture by placing lingering kisses across the back of his hand.

           “I’m sorry I didn’t fight for us during college. I’m sorry I brought girlfriends to family events, I’m sorry my actions made you think I stopped loving you.”

           “You didn’t, right?” You peered up at him, lips leaving the palm of his left hand.

           “Never,” Jimin held your gaze, watching as you sat up.  

           “Even when you were dating skanky girl number three, with the nose ring and the summer house in Montauk? That you brought home for spring break and asked if you could bring to Namjoon’s parent’s anniversary?” You questioned.

           “You really want to rehash everything, don’t you?” Jimin chuckled, your ridiculousness knew no bounds.

           “I mean, we don’t have to right now we-

           “Can I kiss you?” Jimin leaned forward, cherry lips finding purchase on the delicate flesh on the inside of your wrists, a sensation that specialized in making your toes curl.

           “You think that’s wise?” Your voice, a breathy groan embarrassingly needy, seemed to belong to someone other than you. Someone who needed Jimin to toss them over his shoulder and fuck into his $2,000 sheets.

           Jimin laughed, “You were my first kiss, my first time, my first everything. You think now, as adults, kissing is going to ruin us getting back together?”

           “I just mean that, do we need to let this simmer before we, you know,” You bobbled your head, hair moving around to match the giddiness bubbling inside of you.

           “We don’t have to have sex,”

           “Yeah,” You sighed, “but don’t you like, really want to?”

           “And you call yourself a journalist!”

          “Shut up!”

          “You’re being ridiculous! Of course, I want to,” Jimin’s docile laugh sent a shiver down your spine.

          “I am being cautious, I need to know that you, that you want this,” You reiterated.

          It hurt to have to ask Jimin to give you something he already had, to give you his love again, to give you his trust. But it wasn’t you who ended this relationship, it wasn’t you who thought your relationship wouldn’t last through college. You knew you could work through it all; it was Jimin that walked away shattering your heart and your trust. It was Jimin who was scared of being with you, Jimin who needed to prove he was going to make this work. Jimin who had lost it all and needed to fight for you again.

          “You’re asking me if I want to have sex with the love of my life, after years of not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to love her the way she’s earned?” Jimin asked.

           “Yes,”

           “To borrow a phrase from you, fuck you for thinking either one of us has any self-control. Especially when it comes to each other. How many tweets have we exchanged? How many times have you asked Hoseok about me, or my mother?” Jimin cupped your cheeks again, eyes darting from you slightly parted, purple stained lips to your eyes. “I’m in this, for good, and I will tell you every day until you believe me again.”

           “Me too, though you should know I’ve picked up a few new habits I’m sure Taehyung has told you about,” You leaned into his touch, cheek warming at the light callouses that remained from his overeager workouts, and mic twirls he mastered in too many nights singing karaoke with Jungkook.

           “Yeah?”

           “Yeah, I’ve started wrapping my hair. And I’m also still allergic to kiwi,” You reminded him.

           “Good, who needs a slimy green fruit with too many seeds?”

           “Truly no one, except Australians,” You laughed and your pun.  

           “Remember that day before senior year, when we got smoothies, but they didn’t tell you that they’d put kiwi in it, and you had to go the emergency room?” Jimin’s hands have dropped from your face, instead clapping together, head tossing back as his laughter overtook his body.

           “Or the time after watching Friends, Joon decided he wanted to make a kiwi-lime pie despite the fact we told him not to put kiwi, and he did anyway?” You laughed with him, head leaning against the arm that he had extended across the back of the couch.

           “You wanted to kill him,” Jimin agreed.

           “He forgot he had put it in! Then forced me to try it! I still hear his voice, ‘Y/N, please just a bite. Please, I worked really hard on it, come on, just a taste, please’. I swear to you, Sara Bareilles heard him and saved it for the Waitressmusical,” You laughed.

          “I don’t remember who was more pissed, your mom or you,” Jimin added.

          “He offered to pay for my hospital visit,”

          “He paid it all off, didn’t he?”

          “Before the month had ended, he didn’t even work out a payment plan, and bought me a new EpiPen,” You couldn’t stop laughing. Namjoon, the ever-lovable oaf, had never stopped apologizing for badgering you into eating his fucking pie. You couldn’t even tell if it was good, the minute the kiwi hit your tongue, your body reacted.

          “He’s always been, responsible,” Jimin was calming down, high pitched squeaks on longer radiating off his vocal cords.

          “To a fault,” You sighed. “My mom gave it all back to him, she saved it for the day he graduated college and got into med school.”

          “Was he shocked?”

          “Pleasantly so,”

          Jimin hummed in agreement, his arm moving to drape across your shoulders, your body relaxing back into him. Your head found its way to his shoulder, and slowly you breathed in his scent. He’d changed colognes since the last time you’d been this close, this vulnerable with him. You liked it, fresh and crisp, with undertones of sandalwood and something that smelled like Kimchi, though you knew Jimin enough to know he’d probably eaten some for lunch. You liked it, his warmth pulling you to him, the safety of his embrace reminding you of all the days and nights you’d spent just like this.

           “Jimin?”

           “Yes?”

           “Did you, after we broke up did you ever, fall in love again?” You craned your neck to try and catch his expression.

           “No, I got close, but I never did. Did you fall in love with Seokjin?”

           “It’s complicated. I loved him, I did, but I wasn’t in love with him,” You moved ever so slowly out of his grasp, trying to gage his expression.

           “Did you think you’d get married?” Jimin leaned closer. His movement, calculated and timid, hatched the cocoons in your stomach into full butterflies, beating wings against your insides.

           “No, well,” You tilted your head, a habit from Hoseok, and licked your bottom lip. You should’ve remembered to put Aquaphor on your lips before leaving the cab. “One time I thought maybe we might work out, maybe we’d find a way through, well, you. But he never, he always kind of knew that my heart was still tied up with yours.”

           Jimin watched as you wet your bottom lip, tongue gracefully moving to swipe across your flesh, hoping to take the place of your tongue with his own.

           “Did he, did he bring me up when he-

           “Dumped me?”

           “Yeah,”

           “Kind of,” You blinked quickly, eyes trying to discern if Jimin was in fact moving closer, or if your vision was playing tricks on you and trying to zoom in on him while he moved way.

           “I’m sorry that I, that I was used against you. I’m -

          “Jimin, as much as I would love to iron out the details of Seokjin dumping me, and I’m sure negotiating the terms of us getting back together, and naturally filling each other in on the last few years we’ve been apart…” You licked your lips again, “Your lips keep getting farther away from mine and I really, really need to kiss you.”

          Jimin didn’t need to be told twice, and lunged forward, pinning you beneath him, hips pressing into yours, pressure of his body against you, holding you to him.

           “I missed you,” Jimin said before closing the space between you, plump, soft and supple lips pressing aggressively against yours. You knew he’d be stained purple, the thought of him walking into whatever We-Work adjacent workspace his office was in, with purple tinted lips and bruised flesh, thrilled you.

           Jimin had always been your favorite person to kiss. Tasting like nostalgia and 7/11 Slurpee’s that you’d split on summer days, half blue raspberry, half cherry, two large straws and a sugar hangover that almost always led to naps on the hammock in your mom’s backyard. Kissing adult Jimin, experienced Jimin, Jimin who had slept with other people besides you, was intoxicating. Skilled in the way he used his tongue against yours, nibbling your bottom lip before diving in, he’d learned a few new tricks that had you moaning underneath him.

           “You know,” You started, his lips gnawing at the flesh of your neck, hot kisses and love bites decorating you a shade of purple you wished Charlotte Tilbury sold. “I still haven’t seen your bedroom.”

           Jimin laughed, “Oh so now you’re going to be direct?”

           “When have I ever been subtle?”

           “Clearly not in your Tw-

           “Jimin,” You interrupted, index finger silencing his lips. “Just, take me to your bed and make love to me. I promise, I swear, I won’t troll you on the internet ever again, okay?”

           “Okay,” Jimin couldn’t stop smiling as he stood, adjusted the waistband of his flat front chinos, and reached for your hand. “Come on, we’ve got five and a half years and a shit ton of tweets to make up for.”

           Rolling your eyes, you stood, hand in his and followed him down the hallway, past the gallery wall and into his bedroom, where you clocked another photo from high school, this time just you and Jimin, his parents and brother, smiling at high school graduation. You turned to him, ready to comment but cut off by his lips again, hands pulling you towards him, arms wrapping you in his embrace.

           As you drowned in Jimin, in the way his bare skin felt against yours, how his hands moved, tender and lovingly on your skin, relearning routes and maps he’d written many moons ago, it was easy to remember why you’d fallen love with him, and even easier to remember why you’d never gotten the love you shared. Jimin was attentive, passionate, loving, giving… he took his time with you, waited for you to be ready, brought out the best in you in every situation. With his voice in your ear, his sounds overriding the previous iteration you’d had on lock from your teen years, his hips grinding into yours, reclaiming what he had once lost, Jimin rewrote the future you hadn’t been able to imagine since he broke your heart.

          In his ministrations on your body, his love personified in how he made your toes curl, your mind blank, your body his, Jimin vowed to love you, to stand by you, to hate who you hate and love who you love. To feed your every obsession and call you on your bullshit. He promised to protect you, to ensure you never eat kiwi, and to tell you he loves you at least three times every day, beyond earning your trust, beyond you believing him, beyond putting a ring on your finger and giving you his last name (if you wanted to take it). He vowed to never leave, not when it gets tough, not when he is scared, not when you spew that you hate him, which you inevitably will. In return, you promised to give him the world, which he admittedly had whenever you were with him.

           Love was complicated and messy… and it pissed you off to no end to know that all it took was a few years of dragging Jimin on Twitter to get the love of your life back.

[t0wnspersonb]

The Eagle and The Rabbit (Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader)

Anonymous said:

hiiican i request wakatoshi having a small and shy manager s/o who got lost in one of their matches and someone was tryna hit on her so, that so happens to be a player from the team they are playing against

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Word Count: 1,839

Summary: Your directional skills weren’t the best, but it never mattered as long as Ushijima was by your side. But what happens when he’s not?

~~~

I hope you guys enjoy some more Wakatoshi bullshit lol. I still have quite a bit of requests I’m still shuffling through so please be patient with me with uploading new content. I’ll probably be doing two more requests before I close it for now. I want to write a bit more stuff that isn’t related to Haikyuu. I hope ya’ll are Kuroko no basket fans and Naruto fans😂👀 because that’s probably going to be my next set of fics coming out!

I would also like to dedicate this to not only this wonderful anon who had such a cute idea but also to my @sunshinewitchz​ who is a fucking simp for Wakatoshi. but aren’t we all?

Anyway please enjoy!:)

~~~

“Wait.” Ushijima said, grabbing you by the collar of your team jacket, yanking you back to his side.

 You looked up at him in confusion, the rest of the team heading towards the changing rooms.

 “What is it Toshi?” you asked quietly.

 He stared at your sweet face for a moment, appreciating the cuteness that you were displaying right now. 

 “Your sense of direction is terrible. I’m worried that you’re going to get lost.” He said simply.

 You pouted at his words, while there was truth to it, he didn’t have to phrase it so bluntly.

 “I’ll be fine. We’ve been here before.” You said softly, fidgeting at the ends of your hair, a habit that you always had.

 You were Ushijima’s childhood friend turned girlfriend, as well as the manager of Shiratorizawa. A damn good one at that.

 The only issue was that - well yes, you got lost easily.  It had always been that way. Even as a child your sense of direction was extremely poor, and it didn’t improve as you got older. But to you it didn’t matter, Ushijima was always by your side, a constant protector in your life, so you never really thought about improving your directional skills.

 As long as he was with you. You were always safe.

 Ushijima frowned at your words. “You still get lost in places you’ve visited before.”

 You sighed softly, gently straightening his jacket. “It’s fine Toshi, you need to change. The rest of the team is going to start wondering where you went. Besides I have to finish doing my manager duties before your game starts.”

 He studied your face once more, his expression softening slightly. He rested his large hand on top of your head, gently ruffling the hair. “You work too hard. Don’t overdo it.”

 “You guys work harder, I just want to make it a little bit easier for you all.” you said quietly, giving him a sweet smile.

 Ushijima’s heart thumped hard in his chest, you were the sweetest thing he’s ever laid eyes on, and the fact that you were his… he had never been more content in his entire life. 

 He gently pressed his palm against your soft, plump cheek, feeling it warm under his touch. “I’ll see you in a bit. Pay attention to your surroundings.” he warned, before walking off.

 You giggled quietly to yourself, watching his retreating figure. Sometimes he was too overprotective.

 Not that you minded though. 

 You hummed quietly to yourself as you began filling up the water bottles, planning to make their drinks and finishing up the rest of your manager duties.

 By the time you had finished your duties, you hadn’t realized that it was getting close to the meet time with the boys, right before the match.

 But… where was that again?

 “Oh no.” you said quietly, mentally slapping yourself at the fact that Ushijima was right. You hadn’t been paying attention when you went to make the drinks for the team, you couldn’t remember how to get back to where you were before, because at least you could find your way to the gym from that point.

 You reached into your jacket pocket for your phone, only to come up empty handed. You slapped your forehead with your palm. Ushijima was holding onto it for you.

 “I guess I’ll just start walking and see where I end up. Hopefully, the boys are looking for me now.” You mumbled to yourself and turned down one of the hallways.

 But after making three wrong turns and still having now idea where you were, you started to get nervous.

 Ushijima was definitely going to lecture you. A lot.

 You were too wrapped up in your thoughts to even take notice of your surroundings. It wasn’t until you ran into something hard and warm that you realized you bumped into someone.

 You looked up and saw a guy with black spiky hair, he was wearing a volleyball jersey that you weren’t familiar with, and he was big… very big. 

 You looked away from his face immediately, a red blush coating your cheeks in embarrassment as you bowed to him carefully. “I’m so s-sorry.”

 Unbeknownst to you, the tall player was checking you out, a small smirk overcoming his features.

 “No worries. Are you here to cheer on your boyfriend or something?” he asked.

 “Um… n-no… actually I -” you stuttered out nervously. “Are you lost?” he interrupted, his eyes continuing their up and down movement on your small form.

 You started to feel uneasy, your eyes darting around to see if there was anyone else. The halls were empty.

 “Umm… kinda…” you said softly, trailing off. 

 His smirk widened, his hand resting on your shoulder forcefully. You winced in pain and fear from the sudden contact.

 “I can help you find your way… or we can have a bit of fun before my next match starts.” He said slyly, leaning down closer to your face.

 You flinched away, your heart racing like a hummingbird at this point, genuine fear prickled at your skin; stung at the backs of your eyes.

 “N-N-No thanks. I sh-should be going now…” you whimpered out quietly, attempting to free yourself from his grasp that was now clutching at your elbow.

 “What’s the hurry cutie?” he asked, backing you up against the wall, his hands now resting on either side of your head, preventing you from escaping.

 Your lips trembled as you bit back tears. Your heart was thumping painfully in your chest at this point, your body shaking like a caught rabbit, and the guy that was cornering you was the snake, preparing himself for his next meal.

 “It turns me on when you shake like that.” he whispered, eyes flashing dangerously as he leaned closer to your now tear stained face.

 “Waka-” “What the hell are you doing?” just as you were about to call out for your savior, he was already there.

 Your boyfriend’s large frame shook in anger, his glare was piercing as he stared down at your attacker.

 Rage was rolling off him in waves, his demeanor resembling that of an angry eagle, ready to kill.

 He was already in his uniform, his team jacket hanging off his broad shoulders, large hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides.

 The tall male that cornered you froze in fear, sweat beading on his forehead at the immense amount of pressure he was now feeling from the Shiratorizawa ace.

 “O-Oh, is this your manager?” the guy stuttered out, now noticing the similar jacket you wore.

 “That’s my girlfriend.” Ushijima stated, his voice a deep and dark baritone. “Get away from her. Now.”

 The male nodded rapidly, immediately stepping aside. “I’m s-sorry Ushijima-san. I didn’t know…”

 The icy glare that overtook Ushijima’s face sharpened, if looks could kill… that guy would be six feet under by now. He quickly walked over to the trembling volleyball player, grabbing the front of his jersey, and yanking him up to eye level.

 You had thought that the male that cornered you was huge, but compared to Ushijima, he was considerably small. A snake in the talons of a great white eagle.

 “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t know.” Ushijima said. “You shouldn’t be putting your filthy hands on any girl. People like you make me sick.”

 You had never seen anyone more scared before. But the same could be said about Ushijima as he glanced over at you. He had never seen you so fearful before. It made his blood boil as he took in your trembling figure and tear stained face, you had collapsed onto the floor at this point, your shaky legs no longer being able to hold you up.

 He gritted his teeth in anger before setting his eyes back on the figure in front of him. “I better not see you again.” he all but tossed the said male to the side, watching as he whimpered and scampered away.

 Before you knew it, Ushijima was at your side, his large and powerful body crouched down to your level. “Are you okay?” he murmured tenderly, hands already moving to cup your face.

 His eyes searched your face and body, making sure that you weren’t hurt. He didn’t notice any visible injuries to his relief, but he couldn’t stand the sight of the tears falling down your face.

 “Toshi.” you sobbed out, throwing yourself into the ace, not that the sudden movement moved his solid body. He pulled you tighter into his chest, his large hands rubbing against your back soothingly as you cried.

 He didn’t say anything as you cried, but his gentle touch, and the way that he held you, the way that his body crowded your small one, made you feel protected and loved. The heat from his hands sent a gentle comfort into your distressed heart, the coldness slowly seeping out of your body.

 Once your tears had turned into quiet hiccups, he gently moved you out of his chest so he could look at your face.

 His expression was soft as he gently wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks. 

 “Feel better?” he asked, tenderly cupping the side of your neck, his large thumb gently rubbing along your delicate jaw. 

 You nodded wordlessly, sniffling slightly as you rubbed at your eyes. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, gently trailing more delicate kisses down your face before capturing your lips in a heartfelt kiss.

 A gentle claim that he was here, that you were safe, and that you were his. 

 All too soon he pulled away but pressed his forehead against yours. “Good. We need to go meet up with the others. Everyone was worried when you didn’t show up at the agreed time.” 

 “I’m sorry.” you whispered softly. “I got lost.”

 “We figured, that’s why we all went to look for you. I’m glad I got to you in time.” he said frowning, anger once again bubbling up as he thought of the position he had found you in. 

 He stood up, gently grabbing your hands, and pulling you up to your feet with ease. He tangled your fingers together as he tugged you along to the gym their match was going to be held out. 

 “Toshi?” you said quietly, gently squeezing his hand. 

 “Yes?” he asked, glancing down at you.

 You beamed up at him, the sweetest smile coating your lips, your eyes held nothing but love and adoration for the tall ace.

 “I love you.”

 He looked away from you as a soft blush covered his cheeks, his fingers squeezing you back. “I love you too.”

 ****

 “How come that guy is deliberately avoiding you Wakatoshi?” Tendou asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched a guy with spiky hair flinching and running away from the ball whenever it was Ushijima’s turn.

 “Because he knows I’m going to break his arms.” Ushijima said bluntly, causing the familiar male to bow and apologize, much to everyone’s confusion.

[pinkandgirlyblog]

The Assassin (Thomas x reader TMR)

Thomas x reader

Set at the end of Scorch Trials after Wicked have taken Minho.

Enemies to Lovers AU

Warnings: Death and swears. 

The trees still danced with the song of battle, the soil still bled with the souls of the innocent, and the birds continued their songs for the men, women and children lost. The crunch of vegetation beneath their feet reminiscent of guns firing in harmony. The haunting memory of Wicked and their oppression still cursed the minds of the soldiers. Children born during the war only know of hunger and death, and the youth old enough to remember a time of peace and serenity will forever live with a sense of foreboding.

`Minho was gone, captured by Wicked will Sonya, Aris and many others. The question of their return was left on a low. They may never see them again, and that made Thomas very angry. You could almost feel his anger radiating of him in waves, compelling the ones around him to step aside and cower in fear. 

All but one. Y/N.

Y/N was with Aris at the Wicked compound but had never been in the maze. Instead, she had been trained as an assassin at the compound all her life, she did not cower in fear to a mere teenage boy the same age as her when she had killed the most dangerous enemies. It bothered her they where scared of a temper tantrum lad rather then the most dangerous assassin as of, well, ever. She always thought highly of herself but this guy made her feel insecure. It wasn’t all about her and it irradiated her to the ends of the earth.

As Thomas concluded his speech on the pathetic looking bound of mud, Y/N tried not to snicker when he told the crowd of pathetic morons he would kill Ava Paige. The very women Y/N wanted to kill in revenge for brainwashing her and taking away her freedom. Y/N had every right to her death as much as Thomas, so today, she would stand her ground. 

Ava Paige was hers to kill and nobody was getting in her way. 

“So, dear young lad, how do you suspect to kill the most heavily guarded women on planet earth as of right now?”

Her sarcasm and power in her tone made any good person’s worst doings rush to the front of their head. She could take hold of a room with the snap of her fingers... or the pull of a trigger. 

Thomas hesitated, he always saw Y/N as someone just there, she was pretty of course, but a tyrant none the less. She ruled the room through fear which is not how somewhere should be controlled. He respected her and everything but he found her, the simplest way to put it, annoying.

“Dedication” A one word answer from a dumb man, she had thought, he probably doesn’t have many words in his small puny brain. 

“Of course,” She had started eagerly, ready to embarrass her new obstacle in the way of destroying Wicked.

“Dedication to murder. What a great path” She did a quick sickly smile with a sarcastic thumbs up.

“You’d know since you did all Wicked’s dirty work” Thomas snapped infuriated. 

See, it wasn’t common knowledge she was an ex-assassin and now Thomas exposed this information to the public eye, gasps and guns where drawn in Y/N’s direction. 

She didn’t flinch, didn’t even blink in surprise at the new occurrence, great, this guy really was a total klunk head. 

“Raise your hands where we can see them!” 

People shouted with a new kind of passion, a sense of pure easy revenge they hadn’t seen for a very long time, a taste for something so rare it will fill you with a new kind of power, a taste for murder. 

“Good going genius” Y/N muttered under her breath, she shouldn’t of trusted Thomas with any sort of secret information as he would blurt it out in the most inconvenient times. However, Y/N felt inclined to tell Thomas, almost as if he mattered to her. 

“Woah! Guns down guys, shes harmless” Thomas shouted in panic, he didn’t WANT her to die because deep down he knew he would be lying if he said he didn’t have any self control. 

All guns slowly went down but one. Jacob Green, he had recognised the girl but now he knew from where. She had killed his family, his friends as they where against the awful organisation. Before he could be stopped, he cocked the gun and pulled the trigger.

The bullet when whizzing overhead, planting itself in Y/N’s chest, she fell to the floor as Thomas caught her head from smashing on the floor. He hushed her when she cried in agony. 

She was laid on her back, head in Thomas lap as she took laboured breaths, gasping for more oxygen the world couldn’t provide. She stared with glistening eyes at his deep brown ones and started her deceleration.

“Everyone says to keep fighting but it gets hard. There are times I want to lay down my weapons, take off my armour and say, ‘Shoot me’. We both want the same things Thomas, we just wanted to do it alone. I plead, no, I beg of you to kill her, kill Ava Paige. For me. Thank you for fighting with me when nobody had the balls to, it gives me a sense of challenge, a sense of life. Ironic isn’t it, how you give me life but can take it away in seconds. Thats the thrill of it though, right? I fought and I’m proud. I’m going to die with my head held high. Thank you Thomas for the sense of challenge. Thank you for showing me the meaning of life”

As Y/N stopped talking so did her heart. She lay still of the group as Thomas wailed over her.

He finally realised maybe they where never enemies, but true soulmates at heart. 

[cloudytamaki]

bnha » emotions

warnings. sad angst a/n. this is basically how the boys are with different emotions and their views on them; these are my opinions! i incorporated some of myself into these pieces as well - it’s my therapy & how i cope 🤧

↳ katsuki » views crying as weak. he doesn’t see others as weak, but it’s how he sees himself. he finds crying embarrassing and it makes him angry to cry over stupid things. he will be throwing things around his room while crying, likely breaking things in his fit of anger/sadness. maybe it’s a pride issue – he knows how people see him—powerful and strong—and cannot let anyone know that he crumbles while he’s alone.

↳ shoto » as a child, he cried a lot, especially after his mother left (when he was alone, never in front of his father). he knows crying can’t fix anything. he is the kind of person to sit in his room and ponder over things, thinking so hard that his fists clench and tears begin streaming down his cheeks. he doesn’t want to get hysterical, so he usually sits there with a solemn look as tears leak out of his mismatched eyes.

↳ shindo » he has some anger issues; he doesn’t get violent with others but he does when he’s alone. like bakugo, he starts picking shit up and smashes it on the floor until his room is full of glass shards and ripped papers. he usually has good composure and doesn’t fly off the handle unless it’s really important (ex. if someone was cheating, a betrayal, or if he messed up).

↳ hitoshi » he seals himself off when he feels his emotions stirring. he doesn’t show any physical change, but on the inside, it’s a fucking battlefield. he’s not one to lose control over his emotions – he has amazing control over himself and tends to bottle things up. when the bottle explodes, however, he doesn’t speak. he’s screaming at himself on the inside, never on the outside.

↳ keigo » with his carefree and laid back personality, he doesn’t appear to have many emotional problems. but he does. he’s a porcelain plate that was dropped and glued back together, but those few cracks that were left never came back together in the right way. as we know, his childhood was rough and demanding –he didn’t have much comfort or happiness, which leads to some outbursts and midnight flights with tears in his eyes.

↳ tamaki » he has insecurities and can get overwhelmed. in the face of battle, he’s confident and dedicated, but quickly crawls back into his hermit-crab shell. most of the time he’s shy but still calm, but he does cry too. he knows he’s sensitive and doesn’t want to show it around people, so he cries in private places, when he thinks nobody can hear him.

↳ denki » he’s a simple, energetic boy who loves to hang out with his friends. he’s a happy-go-lucky person and a wonderful boy to be around! he knows he isn’t the smartest or most talented, and that doesn’t usually bother him. he has some insecurities but pushes them down as soon as they float up. most of the time he ignores people when they call him stupid or idiot. but those are making small cracks in his porcelain heart. he knows why they call him that, but he hates it. small words, big effect.

↳ tenya » he tends to overthink and stress himself out, always feeling like he needs to live up to some unreal expectations he has set for himself. it’s like he’s carrying the world on his shoulders, always trying to make his family happy. he doesn’t know that he has already made his family happy and always tries to do more since he sometimes feels like he isn’t good enough in their eyes.

↳ eijirou » he’s a sensitive boy. he’s always struggled with his quirk, with the way he discovered it and how he wasn’t able to save his classmates when he was younger, deeming himself a coward. he handles himself well; he does break down in his room when he’s alone.

↳ dabi » he gets reckless. he tends to get blinded by his emotions if they’re strong enough; he goes all out with his power and is ready to shed blood. it doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it’s really scary and dangerous.

[nathanknowsitall]

Dedicated

Summary: Harry asks what your favorite song off of Fine Line is.

Notes: This is set in December 2019, post-Fine Line release. Happy one year of Fine Line! Hope you enjoy! <3

“Harry, your album is just absolutely perfect! I’m a little bit jealous that we didn’t get to listen to it sooner honestly...”, your friend said, teasing. 

Your couple friends had invited you and Harry to go on a double date to celebrate Harry’s album coming out. After you had gone out to dinner, you both were hanging out at their house and drinking wine as the vinyl edition of Fine Line played in the background. 

Harry was extremely embarrassed about the whole thing, from the way that most of the conversation at dinner had been about him to the fact that you had cheered drinks “to the wonderful Harry Edward Styles” to the way that Fine Line was playing in the background right now. 

His blush was faint as he thanked your friend for the compliment while sipping on his wine glass. You rubbed his leg as you made eye contact with him, making sure that he was alright. He smiled back at you, mouthing “I’m fine” as he winked at you.

“But you got to listen to it early, right, Y/N?”, your friend said. You nodded as you made eye contact with Harry again. 

“Yeah, I did...It’s so special, H”, you elaborated as you touched Harry’s face for a second, just selfishly needing the intimacy. His eyes filled with warmth and surprise at your praise. He hadn’t known that you had listened to it early or at all but hearing the praise from your lips was divine.

“Aww...that’s so sweet. You guys are awfully in love”, your friend joked at the PDA.

“Yeah, when are you getting married? We could both be married couples then!”, her husband joked. 

Both you and Harry had that wide eyed, deer caught in the headlights look as you looked at them. A little bit of wine had even spilled out of Harry’s mouth and onto his linen shirt. 

Your friends hysterically started laughing at you two, making you and Harry laugh as well. 

“Well, I think we got that one answered!”, your friend joked as she went to go get something for Harry’s shirt in the kitchen. 

“We sure did!”, her husband added, as he stood up. “Who wants some dessert?”, he offered. 

“Yes!”, you and Harry both said at the same time, making each other laugh as you walked into their kitchen hand in hand. 

-

After you said goodbye to your friends, you and Harry walked to the car hand in hand, happy as can be.

As Harry drove you back to his house, you couldn’t help but admire him. He was such a talented person and yet he was still so humble about all of his success, blushing about it whenever anyone even mentioned it. He made a point of being kind to everyone he met even when they weren’t so kind to him. He never made anyone in his life feel neglected despite being a famous rockstar. He was so open to learning from others in order to become a better person that it was inspiring. You could think of a million reasons why you loved his personality before you would even think to mention his looks, even though he was the most beautiful person ever. 

He made sure you felt equal to him in all respects. He respected your boundaries and you respected his. He never pressured you to change for him. He never made you feel bad about yourself, no matter how bad you were fighting. He never made you feel like he was embarrassed of you, no matter how awkwardly you acted in front of his famous friends or when you couldn’t get a full sentence out when meeting his mom for the first time. He made you feel admired emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, sexually, in every way.

As you got out of the car and into his house, your thoughts wandered back to the conversation you had earlier with your friends. You knew it was too early to consider marriage, you had only been dating for a couple of months, but you were sure that Harry was the love of your life. Even if you never got married or even broke up, you knew there was always some part of yourself that would be dedicated to Harry. 

As you wandered outside into the backyard, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about Harry and what a future with him would look like. 

After a while, you felt two arms come up from around you and a head sit on your shoulder. 

“You’ve been quiet all night, love. What’s happening in here?”, he said as he kissed your temple. You felt yourself blush at the thought of telling Harry about how you were thinking about what a wonderful father he’d be. 

“I’ll tell you later, but I need to know about you right now. Are you okay? I know that it was...a lot for you tonight...”, you said, as Harry lightly giggled. 

“I’m okay, baby...it’s was just...a bit much”, he said honestly. You nodded then laid your head on his chest, swaying slightly. This was something that you had learned was comforting for him. 

“But also...I’ve been thinking about what you said about the album...”, Harry said. 

You pulled apart from him, looking at him in the eyes, curious about what he meant. 

“I meant what I said, Harry. I absolutely I love it”. Harry seemed embarrassed but satisfied as he smirked at you. 

“Oh, so you’re a fan?”, Harry cockily said as he winked at you, making you suddenly feel very shy as you looked down and buried your face in his chest. 

Harry must’ve known that you listened to his music, but you had never really discussed it in depth with each other. You had never really admitted that you were a fan of his. 

You never told him that when you cleaned, his music filled your house. You never told him that his music was prevalent throughout your playlists. You never told him that you had bought his albums despite the fact that you knew Harry would get them for you for free. You never told him that you had cried, laughed, and sang loudly to his songs in your free time. 

“And so what if I am?”, you said, teasingly, challenging Harry. You lifted your head from his chest and looked into his eyes. They seemed to be searching your eyes, looking for some trick or joke in them. You just stared at his, admiring as his pupils dilated. 

“If you’re such a fan, you must have a favorite song...”, Harry teased. 

“Well...I have a lot of favorites...”, you teased back.

“How about from your first listen?”, he specified. “The early listen you got? Hmm? What was a standout for you?”, he teased. 

You hid your head in his shoulder, embarrassed about how you basically jumped at the opportunity when Jeff offered to let you have a listen. You could tell that Harry wasn’t mad or angry or had any hard feelings about it, but you also knew that Harry would probably never let it go if he knew what a fan of him you were.

“Umm...I liked Cherry a lot...”, you whispered into his ear. You could hear his breath hitch and you started to rub his back, trying not to freak him out. 

“You don’t feel weird knowing that it’s about my ex?”, he whispered.

You immediately shook your head, “Never Harry. I never would be.” 

You heard him audibly let out a sigh. You giggled a bit as you separated from him, holding his hands instead as you looked at him. 

“It’s just such a beautiful song about love and exes and loving too hard and heartbreak and seeing them with a new person and-It’s so good Harry”, you said as you looked at where your hands were linked.

“You don’t think it’s pathetic?”, he asked shyly.

“Isn’t that the point of it?”, you said as you raised your head up to see him. He still had his head down, looking guilty and embarrassed. You came up to him and hugged him, placing your head on his shoulder. 

“I love you so, so, so unbelievably much Harry. I don’t care if every song you release is about someone else, as long as I know that you’re as in love with me as I am with you right now.”

Harry pushed you softly off of him and you looked into his red-rimmed eyes. 

“I am so in love with you, Y/N. You make every day of my life better. You make me feel so comfortable and loved and special even when I come home from work late and complain about things that are so stupid and petty you still listen. I love when we get to spend the night together and you lay on my chest while we watch romcoms. I love when you let me take care of you when you come home from work and let me make dinner and make a bath for you. I love you so much I can’t believe that we only met a few months ago and-I was going to save this for our one year anniversary, but I can’t wait any longer-will you marry me, Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N?”. He said as went down on one knee, slipped a red velvet box out of his jacket, and opened it to reveal a gorgeous ring. 

You felt your heart beat so fast as you put your hands over your mouth. He looked expectantly up at you, eyes watery, yours probably no better. You swallowed hard, finally letting out a small “Yes.”

[calpalirwin]

All Too Well

Summary: Bucky can’t let Steve’s memory go.

Word Count: 3.6k

And away, and away we go!

__

The plain black ball cap was pulled low on his head as he trudged his way through the museum. He was stupid for being there. A whole ass museum literally dedicated to his ex. But it was somehow the only place he ever found peace. The memories couldn’t swallow him whole when they were plastered on the walls. It was the one place he could allow himself to be angry for how everything had played out.

His fingers fiddled with the cool metal hanging from his neck, feeling the rise and fall of the letters stamped in it. “Fuck you, Steve,” he muttered darkly. “Fuck. You.”

~~~

“Shouldn’t I be the nervous one?” Bucky asked with a laugh, as he watched Steve take three hurried steps for every single stride of his. “I’m the one meeting your mother.”

“Yeah, but… I’ve never brought anyone home before,” Steve mumbled, his face turning red. “Girls don’t exactly throw themselves at me the way they throw themselves at you.”

“Mmm, well, good thing I’m not a girl then.”

Steve choked, his face growing an even brighter shade of red.

“Oh…” Bucky said in realization. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Steve answered by picking up his speed, the leaves crunching under his rapid footsteps.

“Steve. Did you, or did you not tell your mother about me?” Bucky asked, easily lengthening his own stride to keep up with the smaller man. “Answer me.”

Steve snorted, shoving his hands in his pockets, his eyes glued to the pavement. “Of course I told her about you. She knows you’re coming.”

“Steve.”

His feet slowed to a stop, and his shoulders slumped as he spared a glance upwards at Bucky. “You’re not mad, are you?” he asked with concern.

Bucky smiled warmly, draping an arm across Steve’s shoulders. “No, I’m not mad. But you gotta be the one to tell her.”

“Buck, no,” Steve pleaded, his eyes wide. “I-I can’t.”

“I’m not gonna be your dirty secret, Steve.”

“I never said you were!”

“Then tell your mother.”

Steve’s footsteps were heavy with dread as he dragged himself up the porch of a house Bucky assumed was his mother’s. Steve’s breath was slow as he steadied himself, squaring his shoulders, his face getting a determined look to it, but his eyes still held traces of fear as he looked up at Bucky.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Bucky said in a low, reassuring voice, his hand giving Steve’s arm a small squeeze of encouragement.

Another slow breath and Steve pushed his way into the home with a call of “Mom! We’re here!”

A woman poked her head out of the kitchen, a big smile on her face. “Steve! And you must be James,” she said, her attention quickly shifting from her son to Bucky.

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Bucky greeted her politely.

“Please, have a seat,” she gestured at the couches. “Make yourselves at home. Can I get you boys anything to drink? Eat?”

“I got it, Mom,” Steve told her, joining her in the kitchen while Bucky perched himself on the edge of a couch cushion.

“Steve, you didn’t tell me your friend was so…” Mrs. Rogers cleared her throat before whispering, “handsome.”

Bucky felt his face heat up at the compliment, while his fingers curled into fists at the mention of ‘friends’.

“Erm,” Steve coughed. “Yeah, Mom, about that… Buck and I… Buck, he’s my… We’re…”

“Steve, Steve,” she interrupted her son’s fumbling, a hand resting gently on his shoulder. “He’s not your friend, is he?”

The blonde shook his head sheepishly. “No… He’s… So much more than that.”

“Hmm…” Mrs. Rogers pursed her lips together as her eyes swept over Bucky who offered up a shy smile. “James, would you like to see pictures of Steve from when he was little?”

Whatever sigh of relief Steve was about to let out quickly changed to a groan. “Mom…”

Bucky let out a laugh, “You mean more little than he is now? I'd love to.”

Hours later, Bucky was still awake on the couch when soft footsteps padded down the hallway. “What are you doing, sneaking about?” he asked in a whisper when the fridge door pulled open, illuminating Steve in a soft glow.

Steve jumped, hand flying to his chest. “Jesus, Buck! I thought you were asleep.”

“Well, see…” he said, as he got up. “I was about to. But now you’re here. What are you doing?” Each word he spoke brought him closer to Steve, pressing him against the kitchen counter.

“I was getting water,” Steve gulped out, holding up a glass as evidence.

“You sure that’s the only reason?” Bucky asked, his hands roaming Steve’s waist.

“Buck…” Steve’s voice was a low whine as he squirmed away. “C’mon, not here.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, pulling back, but keeping his hands on Steve. “Dance with me, then.”

“Dance with you? Here? Now? There’s no music.”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

“I take it that you got a kick out of my mom embarrassing me this afternoon?” Steve asked as he let Bucky dance him around the kitchen.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed about your past, sweetheart. It all led to you being you.”

“I suppose. But it’s really not fair that I can’t meet your parents and spend an afternoon listening to them embarrass you.”

“Yeah. They would have loved you, too. But I’ll tell you anything you wanna know.”

“You will?”

“Mhm. How else can we build a future if we don’t know each other’s pasts?”

“You really want to be my future?”

“I really do. Do you wanna be mine?”

“More than anything,” Steve nodded, before resting his head against Bucky’s chest. “I love you, Buck.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

~~~

The bottle lay empty before him on the coffee table. His throat burned as he drained the last sip from his glass. He knew if he looked in a mirror his eyes would be rimmed red but it had nothing to do with the alcohol consumption. Not being able to get drunk enough to drown out Steve’s memory was easily the thing Bucky hated most about being a super soldier.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he deadpanned before his face pinched and he hurled the glass as hard as he could across the room. “UNTIL THE END OF THE LINE!” he bellowed, swiping the bottle off the coffee table in an angry motion as tears poured down his face.

With a mangled cry of heartache and rage, Bucky shattered like the glass shards decorating the floor, breaking apart like Steve’s promises.

~~~

Bucky gripped the enlistment form angrily in his fist, crumpling it. “Again?” he demanded sharply. “How many times are you gonna do this, Steve?”

“As many as it takes,” Steve replied icily.

Bucky sighed, rubbing at his face in agitation. “No. You have to stop doing this.”

“Why?”

“It’s illegal for one thing!” Bucky snapped. “And for another, I’m telling you no! You’re not allowed to enlist, do you understand me?!”

“Not allowed?!” Steve hollered back, matching his boyfriend’s anger.

“Yes! I’m forbidding you from enlisting!”

“Do you realize how stupid you sound?! There’s a war going on, Bucky! They need men to fight!”

“How stupid I sound?! Steve, you’ve been rejected four times for a reason! No sane person is going to let you fight!”

“So I’m supposed to just let you go?!”

“You think I want to go?! I don’t have a choice here! Believe me, if I did, I wouldn’t be going! So why the hell are you so pressed to go yourself?! What are you trying to prove?!”

Steve glared up at Bucky in startling realization. “You don’t think I can do it… Nobody does… You all think I’d be a dead man walking…”

“Steve…”

“No! It’s the truth, isn’t it? Nobody believes that scrawny asthmatic Steve Rogers can be a bonafide American soldier… Well… I expected it from them, Buck. But from you? You can’t even believe in me?” He hung his head sadly. “Wow…”

“Steve…” Bucky repeated, hating the look of betrayal on his boyfriend’s face. “Sweetheart…”

Steve held up a hand. “Don’t. You can’t ‘sweetheart’ your way out of this.”

“I’m not trying t-” Bucky’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “God damn it, Steve, of course I believe in you. But can you also understand that the only reason I’m at peace going to war myself is because I know you’ll be safe here? God… if anything happened to you… I’d… I’d…”

“Can you understand that I don’t want to sit here and pray you’ll come back? That I don’t want to have to worry about your safety either?”

“Cuz joining the war’s gonna stop you from worrying? That’s a load of crap.”

“No, it wouldn’t stop me from worrying about you, but it’d be a hell of a lot better than sitting at home, twiddling my thumbs for God knows how long!”

“You know… I always knew you were stubborn. But I thought you’d draw the line at DYING!”

“WHO SAID I WAS GOING TO DIE?!”

“OH I DUNNO! MAYBE THE FUCKIN’ WAR THAT’S KILLING EVERYONE?!”

“AND HOW DO YOU THINK THAT MAKES ME FEEL KNOWING THAT YOU COULD BE ONE OF THEM, BUCK?! HUH?!”

“YOU JOINING THE WAR DOESN’T PROTECT ME! And if you can’t realize that… God damn it! One of us stands a really good chance of making it out of this hell alive, and you wanna give that up?”

“The future doesn’t mean shit to me if you’re not around for it, Bucky.”

“You can’t protect me from this, and I get how angry that makes you. But lying on enlistment forms isn’t the brave or noble thing. It’s just stupid. And I’m sorry if that hurts your feelings, or if you wanna take that as me not believing in you. But I need you to promise me that you’re gonna stop enlisting, or I swear I’ll report you myself.”

“Buck…” Steve cried in a broken whisper, a tear sliding down his face. “This isn’t fair…”

Bucky pulled Steve into his arms, resting his chin in the golden locks as Steve sobbed in his arms. “Promise me, sweetheart. Nothing stupid until I get back. And I will. I’ll come back.”

~~~

“This isn’t fair!” Bucky wailed into his hands, still curled up on the floor. The tight band around his chest made him fight for each sobbed breath that wracked through his body. “I kept my promises! Why couldn’t you keep yours?! What did I do wrong?! All I ever wanted was for you to love me back! Was that too much to ask of you?! For you to love me back?! THIS ISN’T FAIR!”

~~~

Bucky sat quietly while Steve cleaned up his face, his mind reeling. He hadn’t been able to trust his thoughts in so long, captivity under Hydra control making the line between reality and fantasy blurred. And even with Steve physically in front of him, he still wasn’t sure if he was real or not. After all, the Steve he’d left in New York had been so much different than the Steve standing before him now. How did a grown man have a growth spurt of this proportion in a handful of months?

He knew Steve was no doubt telling him the story of his magical growth spurt, as the blonde’s lips were moving rapidly. But Bucky couldn’t process much beyond “genetic testing” and “serum” as his mind slowly went from acceptance to heartache. If Steve was real, it meant all his memories of him were too. And if that was the case, why did Steve keep making eyes at the woman in the room with them? Was the love part not real? Had that been some sick coping mechanism to keep him from going insane? The thought that someone out there loved him being enough to keep him from becoming the homicidal maniac Hydra wanted?

“I’m sorry,” Bucky interrupted, a different word catching his attention. “Grenade?”

Steve and the woman shared a sheepish smile. “Yes,” she nodded. “In training, Captain Rogers here threw himself on top of a grenade.”

“Captain? Wow,” Bucky said, his tone both bitter and impressed. “Um… Peggy, was it? Could you excuse us for a moment?”

“Yes, of course. My apologies. And welcome back, Sergeant Barnes.”

Steve gulped as the tent flap closed behind Peggy, leaving him alone with Bucky. “Buck-” he started, scrambling to defuse the look of cold steel Bucky fixed him with.

“A grenade?” Bucky whispered terrifyingly low. “A grenade?!”

“It didn’t go off…”

Bucky jumped to his feet. “A GRENADE?! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!”

“I WAS THINKING I WAS GIVEN A CHANCE AND I TOOK IT!”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO STAY HOME!”

“AND LOOK WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED IF I DIDN’T! OR NEED I REMIND YOU THAT I JUST SAVED YOUR LIFE?!”

Bucky set his jaw stubbornly. “You think I got captured on purpose? It was an ambush, Steve.”

Steve sighed. “I didn’t say it was your fault.”

“You didn’t have to… I promised you I’d come back, and I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain. But you… you little…”

“I’m not little anymore…”

“Shut up before I get more mad at you.”

Steve’s face crumpled. “You’re mad at me?”

“Of course I’m mad at you! I specifically told you not to do anything stupid! And what do you do? You went and did something stupid! Genetic testing?! Jumping on a grenade?!”

“Again… the grenade didn’t go off. And I wouldn’t say I ‘jumped’ on it exactly. ‘Curled my body around it’ is far more accurate.”

“Shut up!” Bucky thundered. “I don’t know whether I should kiss you in relief, or kick your ass for being so stupid.”

Steve offered up a shy smirk. “I mean… you could try to kick my ass. But I don’t think it would work out very well.”

With a growl, Bucky stalked over to Steve, hand gripping the younger man’s throat as he easily threw Steve against the wall, Steve’s boots hovering above ground. “Wanna retract your statement, Captain?”

Steve grinned. “I’ve missed you too, Buck,” he croaked.

In a flash Bucky dropped Steve before enveloping him in a rib crushing hug. “Don’t you ever scare me like this again, you understand me?” His voice was a cracked whisper as he savored the feeling of Steve in his arms again.

Steve held Bucky back, the new strength strange but comforting to Bucky. “I know you want me to be sorry, but I can’t. I can’t apologize for getting you back.”

“But everything before that?”

“It won’t happen again?” Steve offered. 

“It won’t-” Bucky started to repeat in bafflement before he let out a loud laugh. “You’re a little shit, Rogers.”

Steve nuzzled his face into Bucky’s neck. “But you still love me, right?”

Bucky continued to chuckle, combing his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Yes, I still love you. More than you’ll ever know.”

“And you’re not mad at me anymore?” The blue eyes were wide and sad as they peered up at him. “Please don’t be mad at me anymore.”

“I’m getting there,” Bucky answered truthfully, his fingers reaching out to grip Steve’s chin when Steve tried to hide his face in shame. “There’s a lot to get used to.”

“I’m still me, Buck. I just look different.”

“Different looks good on you,” Bucky stated, letting his eyes roam Steve’s new body hungrily. “Really good.” His fingers moved to ghost along the muscles in Steve’s arms, his tongue wetting his lips. And he took great satisfaction in the way Steve’s face flushed and the moan that ripped out of his throat when Bucky’s lips connected with the Captain’s. 

~~~

Bucky grasped at the dog tags around his neck like a lifeline. Each run of his fingers across the letters loosening the tightness in his chest. Each breath a little easier to gasp out.

Slowly he pushed himself to his feet, chuckling darkly at the irony of it all. For years he had been afraid to trust his thoughts, never sure of what was real and what wasn’t. But when it came to Steve? He remembered everything. And he could recall it all in shocking clarity and detail. Every laugh, every kiss, every tear. He could picture it all like it was still happening, even though it all was long gone now. Memories that could never fade.

~~~

Bucky listened to the soft rain falling outside his window as he stared up at the ceiling in the dark. He wasn’t a stranger to nightmares waking him up, but this one was new. No fighting, or violence. Just a watery pair of blue eyes and a quivering lip.

All Bucky had to do was turn his head to find Steve sleeping peacefully beside him, lips parting slightly with each slow breath. But this was a nightmare Bucky couldn’t shake. One he couldn’t predict the ending to. He just knew it was coming. And he kept trying in vain to stop it, or at the very least prolong it.

Steve let out a small whimper as he shifted in his sleep, searching for Bucky, and sighing in content when he found him. Even with his super soldier body, he still sought out the comfort that was Bucky. And somehow that hurt Bucky all the more as he twisted ever so slightly to stamp a kiss against Steve’s forehead. “Shh,” he soothed quietly. “I’m right here.”

Steve stirred more in his sleep, eyes fluttering open slowly. “Hey,” he rasped slowly. “You didn’t have another nightmare, did you?”

Bucky shook his head. “No,” he lied. “Just can’t fall asleep. Soft bed… you know…”

Even in the dark, Bucky could see Steve frown. “What’s on your mind, Buck?”

“It’s nothing.” Another lie.

“Buck.” Even with an edge of sleep, Steve’s voice was stern.

“It’s nothing I want to talk about now,” Bucky amended. “Just let me have these last moments with you, okay? Can you give me that?”

The bed creaked as Steve sat up. “Bucky… What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“You’re leaving me for her, aren’t you?”

“I- What?”

“Don’t lie to me. Don’t spare my feelings. I see the way you look at her. Know the way you look at her. Because it’s how I look at you. It’s how you used to look at me, too.”

“Bucky…”

“When, Steve? How much longer do I have with you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Bucky’s voice yelled out like thunder. “God damn it… Don’t lie to me… You love her…”

“I love you, Bucky.”

“But you love her, too. You love what she’s able to give you. And I’m just the reminder of everything you used to be…”

“Bucky…” Steve’s voice started to break.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Bucky pleaded, his cheeks damp with the tears that rolled down his face. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Bucky, please…”

“Tell me I’m wrong, Steve. Tell me you don’t love her. Tell me you’re not leaving me for her. You can’t, can you?”

“You told me not to lie to you… I love you Bucky. I really do.”

“Then don’t do this to me… Please… Don’t leave me for her…”

“I don’t know how to love you both…”

“Then stop loving her!”

“I can’t! I’ve been trying! That’s why I’m still with you! But I can’t. And I can’t stop loving you either.”

“Fuck you, Rogers,” Bucky let out a scoff of disgust, but it didn’t have the effect he wanted considering it was also half of a choked sob. “You stopped loving me the second you started loving her.”

“Buck-”

“Get out.”

“Buck!”

“I said get out, Captain.”

~~~

Bucky shoved his hands deep in his pockets, lengthening his strides as the rain started to fall. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed, and he would have broken out in a slow jog to avoid getting soaked, but his apartment was coming into sight. He’d make it. Barely. But he’d make it.

He would have walked straight past the man sitting on the steps outside, if the man’s words of “Huh. So those are where my dog tags went. Been looking for those,” didn’t freeze him in his tracks.

Bucky didn’t say anything as Steve rose to his feet, his blonde hair and the shoulders of his jacket drenched darkly with the rain.

“Wow… Sam was right… You do have a staring problem,” Steve tried to joke with a smile.

“Can I help you, Captain?” Bucky asked, not bothering to soften the bite of his tone.

Steve let out a long sigh. “Can we not do this? The attitude?”

Bucky looked skyward, the rain falling faster and heavier. He may not be able to get drunk, but he could still catch a wicked cold if he stayed out here much longer. And as much as he hated it, he still knew Steve well enough to know that the man was shivering based on the slight tremor in his jaw as he tried to stop his teeth from clacking together. “I suppose you want to come inside, then?”

“Sure beats the alternative of freezing to death. Wasn’t really a fan of that.”

Another bad attempt at a joke that Bucky didn’t take the bait for. Instead, he titled his head towards the building. “C’mon, then.”

Steve smiled, following after Bucky into the building and then Bucky’s apartment. “Thanks, Buck.”

“I wouldn’t thank me yet, Rogers. Don’t mistake my not wanting to get sick as any sort of warm welcome upon seeing you. So I’ll only ask you this once. What do you want?”

__

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