#and everyone deserves the help they need without having a camera shoved in their face

[lazy-phan]

I spotted a familiar book in this video where this lovely woman cleans people’s homes for free who are struggling in some way (usually mental health issues). 

[rogueddie]

Professor Steve has a lovely bunch of advanced placement high school students, they're so kind and always able to create a relaxing aroma that doesn't make students who are introverts feel suffocated by the room, he would know (granted there were times with heated discussions). He's been able to take notice and see them grow. But sometimes they're just a bit too good without knowing it.

They all knew Steve and Rockstar Eddie were together, if the random rants about his husband were anything to go by along with the ring they all point out sometimes.

However the room was tense now that the news and every article was filled with rumors of Eddie Munson Caught Openly Cheating With A Mysterious Man.

They didn't know what to believe but the way Steve was so anxious and trying to play it off, they gathered the rumor was true and there was a divorce happening soon. He rambled sometimes that the big day was coming and he's bit his poor nails down to the point they were concerned he'd eat his fingers next.

So, they openly been beginning to talk about how Eddie Munson didn't know he had something good and he deserved better. Anything and everything they thought would make him feel better but he gave a forced smile and scrunch of his nose at the words and implications. His own words were stuck in his throat, the lump forming was pushing them down below as his stomach turned.

Eddie cheating was not what was happening nor was it like everyone thought.

Yes, Steve and Eddie have always been out there about their relationship and people knew they were together because of a reporter who asked about it when his band began to grow bigger. However, Eddie wasn't one to talk about his personal life with cameras shoved in his face (due to the fact he didn't like their lives to be affected by such negatively). But it wasn't the only reason, their boyfriend politely asked not to be publicized for the time being.

Argyle, oh their sweet boyfriend Argyle, didn't want it aired out, so they did as he wished with no problem. It was safe that way for Argyle because his parents always knew he was bisexual but dating two men had already swept them off their feet, he didn't need paparazzi shoving their big noses in their business. Plus, it wouldn't look good for their company image at the moment. And due to the homophobia at the time, it was safer.

And so Eddie wasn't cheating, far from it, he was just a boyfriend who can't help taking any opportunity to ravish his lovers and leave marks for days.

And Steve was nervous about a date but it was one of Argyle's parents coming over for dinner and if Steve knew anything about having old fashioned rich parents it was that everything had to be perfect. So he was losing his mind trying to make sure it was perfect.

the added tension of when the press will find out who Eddies mystery man is would only stress Steve out so much more too bc there's no way that would stay under wraps for long, the press are rabid

I can only imagine how damage control for that getting out would be bc they wouldn't being keen on actually denying or lying about that, and not just because it would essentially be them throwing him to the dirt

and it's probably something they want to openly talk about- it's not that they ever wanted it to get out but I can only imagine how excited Eddie would be to finally get to talk about how lucky he is to have two amazing guys in his life who love him just as much

but, Gods, the horror show that would cause at dinner. his parents would be born in, what, the 50s latest? yikes my guy

although it would be hilarious if the dinner went perfectly and Argyles parents even jokes about him being his boyfriends mystery man or something because they've had time to adjust to it, mostly thanks to Steve (everyones mom loves Steve)

but also

ASDFG ASDFS S RFGDSI SDKFJH aAS

[loudlypanickinginvenezolano]

Care for You [Chapter one.]

Silence. Solicitude. Calmness. It wasn’t often that Sonic felt such a hard craving for them. That he felt almost a need, such a need so strong it was pretty much its own being on itself, breathing on his neck, and weighing down on his back and limbs, making his every move sluggish.

Sonic was tired.

He was oh so tired, so weary to a soul-deep level he tried to not feel so commonly. He really couldn’t afford it, after all, with everybody´s hope sitting on his shoulders, and relaying on him, and looking up to him, and yet today… today was rough, to call it something.

Battling since early dawn, public appearances all around the place, people screaming, calling his name, the thick fright he could feel waving off their bodies, those damned cameras being shoved into his face in the most inopportune of the moments and all… he was used to it, it was…okay, of sorts.

Kinda.

 And while he certainly could do without their critics and hawk-like stares…the truth was that he lived for the thrill, that…that he thrived with it, even!

For the feeling of freefalling of a building, for the rush an adventure gave him, the hunger for more knowledge that traveling seemed to just awake in him; for the trill of a battle, of action, the warm that doing a good job, that helping, saving someone always gave him.

The satisfaction of a well done action, of making a good deed knowing he was doing his best to keep his place safe, that he was doing good, helping people he cared for and that deserved that and just that, his absolute best, for they trusted in him, and believed in him.

That knowing he was doing something to help, that he was useful in just the right way.

In making thing better. In making a difference.

He loved it. The feeling…That warmth, or joy sometimes that just clogged his chest. The contentment or excitement of a day gone well, of a good stretch, of accomplishment. Of making a change.

It was…his normal day, at least nowadays when people got more aggressive. He was used to it, to their prying eyes, hunting demeanor, heavy gazes always stabbing him down…

It was okay, all right? He could deal with it within barely a sec. It honestly didn’t get to him so strongly, most of the time he didn’t pay it any mind, too busy to slow down for such silly things. At most, if they got annoying, he would just speed past them with a huff.

Why let them get to him, when it was clearly their motivation?

And yet, everyone got a limit.

He neared his.

He could deal with them nice and easy. It was okay, really.

What wasn’t okay was trying to manipulate him. What wasn’t right was using his name to pull people into things that really weren’t okay.

That were dangerous.

What wasn’t right was getting his ears pulled or his body touched or grabbed just because they wanted a rise out of him. To invade his personal space like he didn’t have any kind of right over it anymore. Like it didn’t exist anymore.

What wasn’t right were the set up cameras always waiting for him to mess up, or their shark-like grins as they twisted information and his words to made them bite right at him, stepping up to him, completely disregarding his limits and shining lights right into his exhausted face.

Always.

The noise.

The fakeness of it all.

The sickening heat.

The hurt on his body.

The ache of his legs.

The pain on his neck and back.

The smoke filling up his nostrils and burning all the way up.

The unsavory questions.

The objectifying looks.

It was too much, sometimes.

He ran, and ran, and ran.

It felt like ages. It felt like a torture, like if everything was trying to claw out his body, skin him to see what was underneath and just step on his heart once everything was said and done.

To discard him once they had their curiosity sated.  Once they realized he was just a living being, like them, and not the funny, sparky toy they seemed to take him as.

His breath was shallow, hitched. His body was sweating, and shivering with an unknown force.

Sonic was tired.

He was so tired of this shit, of this waking up earlier than the sun, of being a subject under a magnifying glass and nothing else and nothing more to everyone around him.

A tool.  

For your political needs? For that popularity rise you are after? For the public attention? Well, apparently he was the one!

He was tired, physically, mentally, the weight of weeks suddenly crashing into his form.

He couldn’t keep up.

He couldn’t keep on.

Oh god, he couldn’t keep on anymore!

He collapsed on his knees, and then on the soft moss covered ground with barely a sound, gasping with collapsing lungs and trying to get back the feeling on his sore body, blindly clawing at the soil, panting, pained.

Tired. 

He wasn’t even sure about how much time did he spent like that…minutes, hours… He wasn’t aware.

He wasn’t there, numb yet shaken to his very core.

The void sucked at his fingertips as he stared deeply at its edges, unblinking.

Between something and the other, you could say he felt into a slumber, an all-encompassing lack-of-feeling/sensibility spreading through his body and bringing cold to his limbs.

He only came to himself when he felt someone approaching, and he had to change his sprawling figure a little, already searching into himself for the last bit of energy in his being so he could flash a smile and wave off any concern or rude question he knew may be on his way. Careful it wouldn’t be a savage, and out of proportions affirmation about himself and his lifestyle, because, fuck. People loved doing these, accusing him of whatever type of mess they decided to spew at his face, not caring about wherever it made sense, or not.

And believe him when he says that they don’t care. Not at all.

When he opened his eyes, lies ready to roll of his tongue, startled ruby ones were everything he saw.

It was enough of a shock to had him of all persons spluttering rather unflattering in front of his boyfriend, who, thanks to Sonic´s unexpected actions, lost his footing and fell back on his bottom with a loud ``Ack!``, currently rubbing his eye with his fist as he grimaced.  

“I am not quite fond of the water plays, hedgehog. Try to keep them to yourself?” He gritted, a disgusted expression obvious on his face.

Casual.

Completely casual.

just popping out of nowhere. Of course that was normal and totally expected.

Why was he surprised, again?  

“What are you doin-what-how… How did you find me?!” Sonic squeaked, blinking furiously and trying to stand on his still jelly like legs.

…

It may be unnecessary point out, but, that was, of course, a failure.

Damn.

He really was out of it. His brain was still trying to catch up and start running the program like usual but damn it was lagging.

The hell was going on?

How was Shadow here?

Why?

Shouldn’t he be in his house, resting?

The hedgehog in question just frowned at him, lifting the basket he held on his hand right on Sonic´s eye level, half full with things Sonic couldn’t really name, and gesturing at it with his free hand.

Oh.

Right.

In Sonic´s defense he… well. He didn’t notice it, honestly, and how was that possible was a serious question he won’t dwell on.

He totally wouldn’t think about what could have happened had it been something AND someone different. Nop.

Not today!

“I was picking up things for dinner and tomorrow breakfast, as I always do, hedgehog. Always. Do. Shouldn’t you know that by now?”

“Yeah but you don’t… you usually don’t… just how late is it?”

Where were they, even?!

Was this a dream?

Was he feverish, talking with an illusion?

Was he dying, bleeding out in some unsightly dig somewhere and this was what his mind conjured up to his passing out? 

Shadow´s frown deepened. “Have you hit your head?”

“Aw, C´mon it’s a valid question! I, I…don’t look at me like that, Shadow! I…Just don’t know for sure, but it is not why I- You were searching for me?” His mind was a mess, the subjects he tried to focus on way too many and changing way too fast for even him to keep up. Answering just one question seemed too challenging… He did the effort on sitting up even if all his body screamed at him to not do, to just lay there and hopefully melt into the earth to disappear. Then again, Shadow might just dug him out right away, so, would there even be a point?   

“Should I have?” Shadow tilted his head, some curiosity on his eyes that he didn’t bother in hiding as they trailed down Sonic´s body, searchingly, before looking back at his face, arching his eye ridge. He, mercifully, did not comment on the speedster’s flinch, nor on the tense way his body was curled. “Something I should know, hedgehog?”

“No.” The word was out of his mouth before he ever really thought about it, a small shake that was everything his head could manage at the moment. Something more and he would end up puking out an empty stomach, and that was never fun. “There…there really is not, babe. Nothing to worry your pretty head about, kay?” Shifting his weight, he reached out a hand, not minding a bit the slow spreading pain on his upper muscles; actually, it was the last thing on his mind right now. How could he stop to think about the annoying sensation when all of his focus was on the hybrid in front of him, a tender smile in those lips he adored so much as Shadow rubbed his cheek against his palm, letting him cradle his face with no complain.

Damn.

He loved Shadow´s smiles.

“Up?”

“Whatever you wish.” It was habit, by this point. Shadow´s hand came up as well, holding his to keep it still just so he could twist a bit and left a little kiss on his palm and then his knuckles, not paying mind to Sonic´s blush or the little burns or scratches littered on his skin. He didn’t comment, and didn’t ask neither.

Sonic thought he loved him a little bit more than before.

With barely a move now the both of them were standing, Shadow´s arm finding its way around Sonic´s body, steadying him while holding him close, shamelessly hugging him in all honestly, surrounding him with his heat and sweet, homey scent, as finally the hedgehog was able to plant a kiss on his beloved forehead after longs hours apart.

Ah, seriously, how had the mighty fallen, that now such small time away made his heart feel tight like cord… with a little coy smile, he indulged himself in the embrace. “Sorry, I pulled you too hard.”

“…No biggie.” Sonic´s voice was quiet, a whisper of nervous energy and shifty eyes…but a lot of their moments had turned into this, recently. And while Shadow smile was more short lived than usual, he didn’t comment or question his partner muteness or thoughtful expression.

The thing was…Shadow didn’t pull too strongly. It was physically impossible. It…It was him the one at fault, and, just how shameful was that?

The one that needed a second to find his right footing even now, as he felt his boyfriend kiss his cheekbone, and then his cheek… it was him, the supposed renowned hero.

…  

He didn’t feel like a hero just then. If anything, he felt more akin to trash, to an unknown weakling that crawled out of his shell and was now in the open. He felt weary, and unsteady. His legs didn’t want to work, and his boyfriend felt so lulling under him… so calm, and warm, and inviting.

So real. So alive.

Safe, maybe.

They just waited, then… as for what? Shadow wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think Sonic knew it, either, but they did, just breathing in, holding each other as the azure relaxed more and more ...until suddenly they weren’t, each taking a step back in synchrony.

Sonic stretched, gaze on the far away trees, knowing better than to offer a hand.  

Shadow carefully crouched, setting his basket in the ground so he could pick up the ingredients and what-not that fell off.

A peach bared hand was firmly perched on a dark shoulder, though, and a gloved one rested on top of it, quietly.

Neither talked for a while, content just as they were. Comfortable.

It really wasn’t something to scoff at in their lifestyles. Those moments were from the most treasured, the scarcest.

However, the sun was starting to go down, and the skies were darkening with quite the speed, suspicious raising in Shadow´s stomach as he eyed the gloomy clouds he could see.

They needed to move. 

Straightening up once more, Shadow took Sonic´s hand off his shoulder, holding it to his lips so a small tender kiss could be laid on the [Wounded. Sonic is wounded, his mind screamed non-stop.] appendage, softly lowering it and letting it go, despite his lover´s pout and confusion.

A small flicker towards the rain clouds ahead of them, and Sonic eyes cleared slightly in understanding. Good.

He started to walk away, calm, slowly, studying the plush greenery around him with scientific dedication, stopping from time to time to sniff at a few, or rub a single leaf between his fingers, sometimes taking a few and setting them inside his basket, sometimes taking the time to scribble down a few words after looking around.

If Sonic noticed or doubted his slow pace, he didn’t say something, focused in the ground at his feet, making sure the rain was still far, and trying to keep up with the ebony already slow steps.

If he noticed Shadow´s lingering glances, he ignored them.

Shadow was okay with silence.

“I take it I was close to the house, then?”

But…maybe Sonic was not.

Part of him was growing restless, and he kind of half hoped his boyfriend would suddenly propose to help him Chaos control away.

Usually he would say no. He knew that. Even when tired, or slightly wounded, Every time Shadow proposed, Sonic said no.  

Running, hell, even walking, it always gave him a rush. Life. Energy.

He was so tired though. He almost didn’t want to think of it at all…

Would it be too out of character if he asked for it?

“You would be quite right, dear.” A silence. Ruby eyes snapped to his left, getting lost in the deep mess of foliage. His words were also lost, apparently. Sonic could almost see the gears on his brain working overtime. “I take it you weren’t planning on coming home?”

Home…

Well. It was curious that from all the places he could have ended in he so casually found himself that close to Shadow´s house.

To home.

Yeah. He liked that word. It was especially lovely coming out of Shadow´s lips. It was especially lovely knowing that the dark hero saw him as part of that home.

“How could I not, Hn?! Wouldn’t have missed it for nothin´!” He assured, and this time the smile that grazed his lips came easily to him. It came with life, and love, and Shadow didn’t have any kind of shame at the way he marveled at it, before a small yet equally heartfelt smile formed on himself.

I adore you, it seemed to say. Thank you, it seemed to scream.

The dark hero looked away for a moment, bottom lip softly held between his teeth. He was happy. Sonic could tell. He was so happy and the only thing they did was smile at each other.

How simple, wasn’t it? Sometimes he felt like pleasing Shadow was too easy…

Sonic wasn’t happy.

He just wasn’t. or…

He didn’t think he was, at least.

 But it was an improvement, that was for sure. Like calm was finally edging into his consciousness, closing, and closing in. on his reach.

It didn’t seem to imposing, anymore.

It was a good feeling.

In a way, he was happy to had it. He was happy to have Shadow with him.

He still felt tired. But it was okay.

Once home he was going to rest. And then maybe he wouldn’t feel so bad afterward.

It was going to be okay.

////

Suggestions, tips, ideas, they are all okay too? If you want?

[writingtoforgetreality]

Gold Rush (Sebastian Stan x Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist]

Gold Rush [1] / You’re Not Sorry [2] / This Is Me Trying [3] / [4] (soon)

Summary: Your career was blossoming, especially with your new role in “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier”. Working on set was a dream come true. It was never your intention to fall for one of your coworkers. Not when you knew that he would never look at you that way.

Words: 2,637

Warnings: language, it’s Anthony Mackie’s world & we’re just living in it, angst, feeeeeels, maybe I cried, maybe I didn’t, we’ll never know, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Inspired by: “gold rush” by Taylor Swift

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

You scored big time when you were casted in the upcoming Marvel series “The Falcon and the Winter Soldier”. Working alongside Anthony Mackie & Sebastian Stan had been more than you had ever wished for. The atmosphere on set was harmonious. Everything would have been fine if it were not for your stupid crush on your fellow castmate. Mackie picked up on the fact that you liked Sebastian almost immediately & he teased you about it one too many times. No matter how obvious his teasing, it seemed like Sebastian was completely oblivious to it. Or he acted as if he had no clue. You were not quite sure about that.

The press tour was going strong, which meant that Seb, Mackie & you were teamed up for every interview. Now, that was not something that bothered you too much. After all, you were more than comfortable around them. But when some interviewers did not know where the line was, you got frustrated. Like, okay, we got it. Everyone with eyes knew Seb was hot. But as an interviewer, you should know when to stop. Shamelessly flirting in front of the camera with basically a stranger? Sorry, but you had no explanation for such a behavior. Yes, some interviewers flirted with you, too. But you were great when it came to brushing them off while staying polite. Of course, Mackie’s teasing did not make this any easier for you. Every now & then, he would bring up the chemistry you & Seb shared on screen. And off screen. Like usual, you laughed at him & so did Seb. During interviews, you teased each other a lot, it was a playful manner you all enjoyed. And the audience loved the three of you for it.

Sometimes, when Seb answered a question that had him explain scenes with you or something similar, you hated the butterflies you felt inside. You hated how your cheeks warmed up. You hated that he had such an effect on you. You hated Seb. You hated him for being so perfect. You hated him for being a literal God. You hated him for ruining every other man for you. Because nobody could ever compare to him. And you said that even though you were not even in a relationship. Hell, you were not the only person who looked at him that way. If the interviews were not proof enough, a look at social media did the job, too.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

Everybody wants you

But I don't like a gold rush

“So (Y/N)…” the man sitting opposite of you started. It was not a lot of times that questions were directed at you. Usually, people were more excited to talk to the guys. No offense taken. “The chemistry between Sebastian & you can be felt even after such a short trailer. My question is…are you two, like, a thing?” of course. If you got a question, it was about your love life or about how great you looked in your suit. The others got complex & well thought through questions & you got this shit. Internally rolling your eyes, you stayed professional & answered casually.

“Sebby & I are friends. We work well together. We know each other well enough to communicate with our eyes, body language & so on. Some people mistake that for dating, apparently.” finishing off with a sarcastic chuckle, you had to hide the fact that you wished that there was more between you two.

“I gotta say. Even I think they’re dating sometimes.” Mackie smirked when he spoke up which earned him a light slap from you. Seb only hid his face behind his hand & laughed quietly. It was nothing new. You were used to his teasing by now. Looking over at Seb, you could not help but admire him. Even when he was embarrassed, to you, he was the most beautiful person on this planet. Not a single flaw. Just…perfect. If only you had enough courage to do something about your damn feelings.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

I see me padding across your wooden floors

With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

“Stop that.” Mackie walked over to where you were sitting. Finally, you had a break after hours of giving interview after interview. Looking up, your face turned into one of pure confusion.

“Stop what?” he exaggeratedly rolled his eyes at your question.

“The daydreaming.” it was a simple statement. But why would he tell you to stop that?

“What? Is it forbidden to daydream now?” chuckling at him, you offered him one of your coffee cups. Your handler brought you two because you had not slept much that night. But Mackie needed one just as much & he gladly accepted it. Still, he could tell that you were trying to change the topic. Not with him, though. Sitting beside you, he sighed loudly.

“Why don’t you just tell him?” he looked straight forward when he asked that question. Your face fell at his words but maybe, maybe, if you played dumb, you could get out of this conversation without any awkwardness.

“Tell who what?” your innocent eyes bore into his side profile & you saw him shaking his head slightly. A low chuckle escaped him.

“Tell Seb you like him or I will.” he stated & your eyes widened in fear.

“You wouldn’t dream of it.” exclaiming frantically, you grew more nervous at the thought.

“I wouldn’t trust that thought.” & after a few seconds of silence, you breathed out loudly.

“Yeah, sure. And I’d risk our friendship for that? Forget it.”

“He likes you, too, you know?” he casually stated. Your face changed, but only for a second. He was wrong. Someone like Seb could never like you back.

“Stop, Mackie. Don’t just run around assuming shit.” you pushed his shoulder playfully but it did not do too much. What a surprise.

“My running around assuming shit isn’t assuming. It’s facts. You guys are awful, by the way. It’s exhausting, watching you two trying to dodge your feelings. Why can’t you just, I don’t know, get everything sorted out & be happy together? If someone deserves that, it’s you.” yes, Mackie could be sarcastic but when push came to shove, he could be serious, too. And that last part, he meant by heart. Was it true? Did Seb like you? More than a friend? Maybe you should just tell him. Life was too short to be filled with what if’s. It was now or never, right?

At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town we wandered 'round had never seen a love as pure as it

And then it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

'Cause it could never be

Wrapping up for today, the three of you decided to grab some take-out & eat it back inside your hotel. After quickly showering & dressing more comfortably, you made your way over to Seb’s room. Mackie was already there, he texted you at least ten times to hurry up because they were starving to death. Dramatic diva. Knocking softly, a smile spread across your face when Seb opened the door. Stepping aside to let you in, you greeted Mackie briefly. He was already eating so why the hell was he rushing you earlier? He could be such a child. Seb handed you your food & motioned for you to take a seat on the bed. Take-out in a hotel bed? It should be illegal. Usually, you were not one for eating in bed but whenever you where staying at a hotel, it became some sort of a routine for you. Same for the guys. For a while, the three of you just talked & ate your food. Conversation always flowed easily with them. You knew all of their secrets & they knew all of yours. Well, except for Seb having no clue about your silly crush on him. When he & Mackie discussed a topic you did not know too much about to actually engage in their conversation, you found yourself stealing glances at Seb. If it were not enough for him to be so gorgeous, of course he had the best personality to match that. God really took his time with him. And the weirdest thing of it all was that Seb never let that thought get the best of him. He was aware of people admiring him but that never changed him.

'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Walk past, quick brush

I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush

I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush

Everybody wants you

But I don't like a gold rush

Mackie got a phone call & said goodbye to you before leaving the room. Which meant that Seb & you were alone. It was nothing special, the two of you spent a lot of time together. This time, though, you wanted to confess to him. Finally, you wanted to tell him how you felt. Could you live with the rejection? Well, if things turned in that direction, you had no choice but to. Seb’s lips moved but no sound came out. You zoned out & simply stared at him. Your thoughts were running wild. The sun had already started setting & the golden light illuminated his features in such a beautiful way. It almost looked like a movie scene. He was the masterpiece others could not keep their eyes from. You were this close to speaking up, taking a deep breath for preparation. This could change your bond with him forever.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can't dare to dream about you anymore

A phone ringing interrupted you. It was not yours. But Seb pulled his phone out of his pocket. The moment he saw the notification, he started smiling so brightly. The smile you had grown to love so much. It brought a grin to your face, too. The things this man could do to you, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

“What?” you asked when he could not stop staring at his phone. Had Mackie sent him a message?

“Nothing, it’s just…” he stopped before saying too much but you were having none of it.

“Aw, come on, Sebby. You can tell me anything.” encouraging him, your hand found its way on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. Seb seemed almost shy right now. And this was weird because he usually was everything but shy when he talked to you.

“There’s this girl & she’s just…amazing.” your face fell the moment he started talking. No. “I asked her for dinner but when she hadn’t replied after hours, I started losing hope. She just messaged me back.” his smile was sheepish & you hated that you had to admit that he looked happy right now. Genuinely happy. But you were not the reason of his happiness. Another girl was.

“And? What did she say?” deep down, you knew the answer & you actually did not want him to say it out loud. But you were best friends, after all, it was kind of your duty.

“I got myself a date. I’m going on a date with her, (Y/N)!” he beamed & pulled you into a big hug. One, that made the butterflies act out. Fuck, that hurt.

“That’s great, Sebby. I’m happy for you! You deserve it.” your excitement for him was fake but the sincerity behind your last words were not. If one person on this planet deserved endless love & happiness, it was him. Mackie was wrong. Seb had never liked you. Not in that way, at least. And his date saved you from embarrassing yourself & ruining your friendship. That did not change the fact that you felt like crying right now. You could not shed tears in front of him, could not show how much it actually affected you. No. You had to fake a smile. And that shit hurt like a bitch.

At dinner parties I won't call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it

'Cause it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

'Cause it will never be

“Something’s wrong with you.” Mackie stated at breakfast. No shit, Sherlock.

“What makes you think that?” feigning innocence, you rolled your eyes when you saw the look he was giving you.

“Clearly, you’re upset. Did something happen after I left you with Seb yesterday?” he hit the nail on the head with his assumption.

“Yeah.” was all you answered. His eyebrows raised, he waited for you to continue. But when he noticed that you were not planning on engaging in any more conversation with him, he pressed further.

“Did you tell him? Did he mess up?” if Seb messed up, he would kill him. There was no other person who was better for him than you. The two of you deserved each other. And everyone seemed to realize that but you.

“I wanted to tell him.” admitting quietly.

“But?”

“He got a notification.” your short answers made Mackie freak out. He grew frustrated with you when you dragged out this entire conversation.

“(Y/N), come on.” he urged.

“Sebby has a date.”

“With you? But that’s great.” his smile was small but present. Did you finally realize that you were feeling so much more for each other?

“With another girl.” then you looked up at his face, your eyes glossy. Clearly, you were trying to keep it together but he could tell that you had a hard time doing so. Yes, Mackie would kill Seb. He could have sworn that Seb only had eyes for you. The stolen glances, the efforts to make time to spend more with you. What the fuck was going on? When he saw your first tear falling, he wasted no time in pulling you in for a hug. You were broken, all because of one man. But the thing was that he was not just any man. He was Seb. Your best friend. Your everything. But he would never be yours. Not in a million years. Because he only saw you as a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was not like you did not have options. Hell, you declined so many people over the time. All because of him. And you were afraid that this would not change anytime soon. Because you did not think you would ever get over him. Your heart was ripped into a million pieces & the only person who could help you fix it was getting excited over his upcoming date. Whatever you thought could be between you guys, it was nothing but a dream. Something that could never be.

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

Gold Rush [1] / You’re Not Sorry [2] / This Is Me Trying [3] / [4] (soon)

Published (04/22/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @buckysleftarm420 (thanks for your support <3)

[supercorpkid]

It’s crossover season – Part 4.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Iron Man x TeamMate!Reader, Captain America x TeamMate!Reader, Doctor Strange x TeamMate!Reader, Thor x TeamMate!Reader, Black Widow x TeamMate!Reader, Hulk x TeamMate!Reader.

Word count: 2715.

Please check out Part 3 if you haven’t, I think tumblr hid it for some people :( I promise it’s worth it.

You open one eye and look at Wanda sitting next to your bed.

“You should go help.” You say softly, but you cough violently right after.

“The battle is over. After you closed the portal, it got easier. All things considered.” Wanda stands up going to you. “Now go back to sleep, you need to rest. You almost died.”

“Please.” You dismiss her with your hand. “I almost die a lot.”

She chuckles at your response, but you agree with your head, because you are feeling tired anyway, and slowly you let yourself fall back to sleep.

When you wake up again, it doesn’t feel like much time has passed, but Wanda is nowhere to be found. You sit up on the bed, looking around. You get a glimpse of yourself in the window and your eyes widen. Wow, you look a lot worse than how you feel. You look like you’ve been in the middle of an explosion. Oh, wait. Did you really go to outer space? On the list of your life’s bad decisions, this is definitely number one, easy.

“Hey!” You hear, and turn to the door to see Wanda there. “You up. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better than how I’m looking.” You say, making her smile softly at you.

“Stark sent this for you.” She shows you a box of donuts and your mouth drops, almost comically. “He said if you didn’t like donuts, you were probably insane.”

“Well, donuts happen to be my favorite food, so-” You raise your arms, and she gives you the box. “Come on, let’s share.”

You open the box and find a little sticky note there, with a scribbled handwriting

Donuts are for geniuses who save the world - Mr. Playboy

You smile, ripping it off the box and shoving in your pocket. Wanda sits next to you, and you smile at her, before diving in for the food.

“So, is everyone ok?”

“Yeah, pretty beaten down and tired, but we won.” She shrugs, and you agree with your head. It feels good to hear this. We won. You’re a part of it, and she wants to make sure you know that. “Well, we couldn’t possibly have done it without you.”

“Oh please. Mister Thor could have gone to space, or I don’t know, anyone else?” You shuffle in bed uncomfortable. “It’s not like I can actually breathe in outer space.”

“Wait, what?” Wanda’s brows are pinched together at the sound of that. “And you went anyways?”

“Well, we needed to close the portal.”

“Thor could have gone. Do you realize you could have died?” She looks shocked by the revelation and you smile.

“Yeah, but it was either me or millions of people back on Earth.” You shrug, then push her with your shoulder. “Besides, I didn’t, right?”

“You’re a superhero alright.” Wanda says making your smile open wider. That sounds good. Really good. “You know the fight is over, right?” She asks and you agree with your head, mouth full of donuts. “Strange can send you home.”

“Oh.” You look at her, cleaning the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. “Yeah. That’s great.”

“Wait.” Wanda leaves your room, but comes back a minute later with a polaroid camera. “So I don’t think I’ve imagined you.”

“Oh, you totally did.” You smile, looking at her, sitting in bed next to you. “I’m pretty sure we’re all in a very elaborated dream caused by an imp from the fifth dimension.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She says, and you shrug, throwing your arm around her shoulder and making a funny face.

“Take two.” You ask and she agrees, taking another one, where the both of you are smiling.

“I don’t mean to interrupt the fun.” Vision appears in your bedroom, coming from a wall, and you jump in bed from the scare.

“Vis! We talked about this. The door is right there!” Wanda points at it, and you laugh.

“Oh come on, if you could phase into a room, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t use a door.” You tell her and Vision agrees with his head.

“It’s not exactly phasing, I’m just manipulating my density so I can become intangible.” He corrects, and you and Wanda look at each other holding a laugh. “Well, I came to offer you my services.”

“How come?”

“You are looking, if you allow me to say-” He asks and you nod so he goes on. “Rather beat up. I was thinking I could use the solar energy on you, to help your recovery.”

“That would be really helpful, in fact.” You say with a smile, and he agrees, getting ready to shoot you with it.

It all happens too fast. One second Vision is shooting you with solar energy, next second a portal is opening up in the bedroom, and the very next Supergirl is throwing herself on him, yelling:

“GET AWAY FROM MY KID!”

It’s so fast, it takes you a few more seconds to acknowledge the whole scene going on before you.

“Vision, don’t engage.” You ask, standing up. And you look at Wanda. “Wanda, stop her!”

“Stop me?” Kara yells in shock and Wanda quickly separates your momma from Vision with her powers. She involves your momma with it, making it impossible for Kara to move.

“What are you doing?” You ask Kara, who just looks at you so in shock like she doesn’t know what to say.

“He-He was shooting you with a… With that thing on his head!” Kara justifies herself and looks at Wanda on the other side of the room. “And she’s doing whatever this is.”

“He was helping me!” You look at Wanda again, giving her a little nod. “She’s going to put you down if you promise not to engage again.”

“I-I’m-Ugh! Fine!” Kara reluctantly agrees and Wanda puts her down.

“Guys, these are my moms!” You point to Lena and Kara on the other side of the room, and run to them so you can hug them. Kara holds you tight, while staring at the heroes on the other side of the room. “Ok, momma.” You try to get out of her embrace. “Momma, can I hug mom now?”

“Oh. Ok.” Kara finally let’s go, and you move to Lena’s arms. But you see Kara is still in a defensive position, ready to get into a fight at any moment.

“Hey.” You hold her arm. “You can relax now. They’re my friends.”

“No, they’re not. They kidnapped you.” She says without taking her eyes from them.

“We didn’t, actually. She decided to stay for the battle.” Vision corrects her, and you see that Kara is not buying into it.

“What battle?” Lena asks, with furrowed brows.

“Long story! Anyways, you guys are here now.” You look at the device on Lena’s hand. “And that means we can leave.”

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” Wanda asks. “To everyone else?”

“Yeah. Let’s go outside.” You guide your moms out of the compound, and look inside with a smile on your face. You know this was your house for less than two days, but still felt pretty good to be here. You press the comm on your ear. “Smart mouth to Mister Playboy.”

“You better have left me some donuts, kid.” You listen coming from your comm, and you smile harder. Well, if donuts are for geniuses who saved the world, he certainly deserves some.

“Come outside.” You ask, and it doesn’t take long for him to show up at the front door. He walks towards you, well-aware of what these two women behind you mean.

“So, you’re leaving.” He says matter-of-factly, and you nod. “Finally.” You smile and roll your eyes. He comes closer and raises his hand at you. You shake it. “We had a good run.”

“We did.” You agree, because he is right. All the bantering, the jokes, him having your back, picking you up while you fell from the sky. It was a pretty good run.

“Ok. I don’t do sentimental.” He says, but still looks at Lena and Kara, nodding like he’s saying hello. “Just make sure she knows that she helped. What she did was very brave, and also somehow very stupid-” He raises his eyebrow at you. “But mostly very brave for someone her age. I’ll be sure to keep in touch whenever I need a little hand here.”

“Maybe with a grown up this time?” Kara says and he waves her off with his hand.

“Nah. I like the kid.” You can see a tiny smile in the corner of his mouth, but he fakes it. So, you hold back your smile too. “Did you guys bring your own portal, or should I call Strange to send you back home?”

Lena shows him their portal, and he agrees with his head.

“Guess you weren’t lying about L Corp.” He says, looking at the logo on the device, and you agree with you head. “Then, expect a bill coming soon.”

“Bye, Mister Playboy.” You wave goodbye and he shuffles pretending to be unbothered by you leaving.

“Bye, smart mouth.”

Lena turns on the device and you’re almost walking through the portal, when you see the rest of the team showing up.

“You forgot to say goodbye to some people.” Stark says and your smile grows wider, looking at everyone in front of you.

Kara looks shocked by the amount of people in the garden, looking sad about you leaving. Her hand goes to your shoulder, protectively and almost scared they’ll take you from her again.

“Hey, kindergarten.” Bucky is the first one to talk. “Thanks for the help out there.”

“Nice work there, kid.” Cap comes forward with his hand raised so you can shake it. You do so. “Thanks for the back-up.” He smiles softly, baby blue eyes turn to your moms, assuring. “Great kid! You should be proud.”

“Forgive me about the kidnapping part.” Strange comes forward and you smile down, while Kara throws a possessive arm around your shoulder, and Lena holds your arm, which makes you smile harder. “She was of great assistance. She fits right in.”

“Superkid, daughter of Kara and Lena, good fight out there. If you're ever in Asgard, come join me for a beer.” Is Thor who talks next.

“Thor, she is a kid.” Banner says, making you, and some other Avengers, laugh.

“Nonsense.” It’s Thor’s answer. “This girl can lift Mjölnir when none of you were worthy enough to do it. For a mighty warrior like her there shouldn’t exist Midgardian rules like such. She can have a beer if she wants to.”

You look up to Lena who discreetly shakes her head in denial to you. You shrug.

“It was nice meeting you, science pal.” Banner says and you smile at that. “Thank you for the lesson about the multiverse.”

“Thank you for the lesson about nuclear physics.”

“Sorry about the gunshot, kid. Nice fight.” Natasha says and you agree with your head. “Your Earth is lucky to have you.”

“Thanks for making fun of Bucky.” Sam fist bumps you and smiles, listening to Bucky mumble something like ‘I made fun of her’. “Oh yeah, and for the fight thing.”

“Here.” Wanda sneaks in something in your pocket and smiles at you. “It’s what you’re thinking.”

“I’ll see you around. Around the grey area, maybe.” You say, hugging her and she hugs you tight for a minute, before letting you go.

“And we’ll survive together.” She agrees with her head, and smiles at you.

“Is that everyone?” Kara asks, looking at you and you agree with your head when you don’t see Vision.

“Excuse me, Superkid. I would like to personally thank you for your help and care towards Wanda.” He appears before you, coming from out of nowhere.

“Vis.” Wanda says, blushing a little.

“I hope we fight together again. It’s always refreshing seeing someone genuinely good in the world.” He says and it’s your time to blush. “I won’t keep talking longer. Your moms must be eager to take you home, as we are to keep you here.”

“She’s going home.” Kara’s firm grip tights around your shoulder.

“Unless she wants to stay.” You hear Stark’s voice and you smile, knowing he is absolutely messing with your moms. “There’s always space in the compound, if she agrees not to break it. And as Strange said, she fits right in.”

“We thank you for your offer.” Lena answers, slowly pulling you and Kara back to the portal. “But we have to go now.”

“Of course. Of course.” Thor says, winking at you. “You obviously can’t stay here, but Asgard waits for you. You call, and I’ll send Bifrost for you.”

“Ok! Well, I don’t know what Bifrost is, but she is not traveling to another planet. Say goodbye now, baby.” Kara asks, squeezing your shoulder and slowly walking backwards.

“Bye ‘the Avengers’! Whenever you guys need a hand, Cape-guy knows where to find me and Thor can send Bifrost! I hope we meet again soon.” You smile, and Kara pulls you into the portal before anyone else says anything.

“Oooof, that was close!” Kara says, after Lena closes the portal behind you, and she looks around to make sure you three are alone. “I actually thought they would keep you right there.” She breathes in relief, when she realizes there’s no reason to worry anymore because you are home. She hugs you tight and Lena joins in the hug too. You three stay there for a few good minutes, until you make motion to move.

“No, no.” Kara says still pulling you in. “We’re still hugging. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Momma.” You look up to her face. “I’m not going anywhere.” You assure her and she lets you go slowly.

“I’m sorry little one, but you made a lot of friends.” She reaches for your cheek, stroking it gently. “And they seem to like you very much. And all of them were so impressed by you that they wanted you to stay.”

“I know!” You beam excitedly. “Even Mister Stark.”

“Yeah!” Kara agrees looking at Lena from the corner of her eyes, and she whispers to your mom. “Who’s Mister Stark?”

“Isn’t he the one that said you did something very brave, but also very stupid?” Lena asks and you open a forced smile at them. They raise their eyebrows at you.

“I may have gone to outer space and kicked off a bomb that would close the connection between the worlds, and I almost died while doing so.” You say with the same forced smile, while they realize what you just said.

“You may have or you did?” Lena raises an eyebrow at you.

“I may have did.” You shrug. “But I didn’t die!”

“You don’t say.” Lena pulls you in for a hug again, kissing your forehead. “Is there a way for you and your momma to save the world without putting yourselves in dying conditions?”

“No.” You and Kara say at the same time, earning a sigh from Lena.

“I’m sorry for making you guys worried. They needed help in this battle and I, well, I helped. And also, Mister Strange said he left a card?” You ask and they agree with their heads.

“It could’ve been more direct, though.” Lena says and she and Kara exchange a look. “But he did leave the directions, at least.”

“So, tell us everything. About everyone. I can’t wait to hear about your adventures.” Kara asks excitedly and you smile feeling the same way.

“Sure. But can it be over pizza?” You raise an eyebrow at them, and they agree with their heads.

You look down to what’s in your pocket, and you pick it up to look at the picture of you and Wanda making funny faces. Next to it a sticky note signed by Mister Playboy himself. You can’t help a wide smile that comes to your lips. Good. It wasn't a very elaborated induced dream from an imp of the fifth dimension. It was real. All of that. The fight, the jokes, the friends. Everything was real.

“Ready, kid?” Kara asks and you put both items back in your pocket.

“I am now.”

Notes:

Thanks @oncemoonie for the prompt, I loved mixing my two passions and I hope you guys liked it too!

[mochegato]

Enemy Mine

(Part one of the Jasonette Mine series)

Red Hood heard the thud behind him midsentence, which was rude, really. They could have at least waited until he was finished with his instructions.  He hung his head and let out a long, deep sigh.  “Damn it.”  He would have pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration if he hadn’t been wearing his full helmet.  He motioned to the henchman next to him to wait a second.  He needed to gauge how bad things were before coming up with a plan. There was still a chance to save this operation, depending on who it was and whether he could distract them enough.

He turned slowly and let out a low growl.  That was not who he wanted to see.  Ladybug here was worse than Batman, it meant the rest were likely to come to back her up at the first indication of an issue.  The others he could appeal to their vanity and let them think they could handle it alone, maybe even distract them long enough to complete the mission, but she wasn’t nearly so arrogant.  Not to mention Bruce seemed to keep an extra close eye on Ladybug when she was dealing with him, like he was more worried about him than one of the other rogues.  

But ultimately, the real reason he didn’t want her here now was he didn’t want her to know what he was about to do.  He wasn’t afraid she would get hurt.  She could protect herself better than any of the rest of the bats and he would protect her if it came down to it.  What he couldn’t protect her from was seeing what he was about to do.  But it was too late to turn back now.  There was too much riding on it.  He turned back to his henchman.  “Continue on like we planned.  Get everything ready.”

“And her?” the henchman gritted out with a glare at her.

“I'll handle her,” Red Hood assured him and nodded toward the door.

As soon as the door was closed, Red Hood turned to her with a killer smile she couldn’t see under his helmet.  Time to distract.  And if that included charming the pants off of her, God he wished that could be literal, so be it.  “So you’re going to handle me, huh?  What exactly does that entail?” she asked with a teasing smile.

He let a breath out.  He wasn’t prepared for her to flirt back.  “Ladybug,” he answered as casually as he could and nodded to her.  “We've got to stop meeting like this.”

“Whenever you're ready to walk away from this life, I'll happily work with you instead of against you.”  She moved into the office and perched on the edge of his desk.  “Until then though, this is the only way we will.”

He tracked her movements and let his eyes linger on her as she leaned back on his desk.  He took another breath and let it out slowly.  He needed to focus.  Today was too important.  “That's something to consider, beautiful.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.  The seriousness of her expression was offset by the amused glint in her eyes.  “You trying to charm me out of fighting?”

He leaned closer to her.  “You saying I could?”

She cocked her head to the side as if in thought. “Hmmm.  Not today.  But by all means, continue trying.  It’s much more enjoyable than the tactics most rogues take.”

He chuckled and leaned away again.  “If I was trying to charm you, you'd be charmed, Princess.  I’m just stating facts.”

She looked down for a few seconds.  When she looked back up at him it was softer and shyer than he had seen her before.  “Does that mean I have a chance at talking you into leaving this life?”  She kept her eyes on him for a few more seconds as if trying to gauge his response, but he just sat there frozen.  Seemingly finding her answer, she moved over to the large window overlooking the warehouse floor.  “Because this is kind of a big operation to just walk away from.”

He moved next to her and crossed his arms.  “Hey, this operation keeps drugs off the streets and keeps the pedophiles away from the kids.”

Her eyes softened.  “I know,” she said gently.  Her eyes became harder.  “But that's not what this is about today. Is it? This is about solidifying your control.”

“Which I need to do in order to continue to help,” he pointed out sharply.

“This going to get people hurt.”

“We're trying to minimize that.  Try to limit it just to the people who deserve to be hurt.”

“And who’s that?  Who deserves to be hurt, to be killed?  Does just being around make a death sentence deserved?”

Red Hood scoffed.  “If one person dies it's too much, huh?  Sharing the Bat’s beliefs now?” he jeered at her.

Ladybug looked at him curiously. Not at all put off by the false persona he was putting on.   “I’m not a fan of death, I'll grant you. I never have been.  Creation, you know?” she motioned to herself with a small, wry smile.  “But I’m more concerned about who's going to die.”

“Nobody is going to get hurt but the people in that building, Pixie.”  He propped his arm on the wall next to her and leaned closer to her.  “I don’t suppose you’d trust me on that.”

She looked at him analytically for a few seconds.  “Do you know why I’m here?”

He rolled his eyes and leaned away from her.  “To ruin my fun?”

“Added bonus, definitely,” she smirked at him, “but not the original intent.” Her face suddenly took on a more serious expression.  “I’m here to warn you…”

“Oh?” he cut her off sharply.  His eyes shone dangerously as he moved closer to her until he towered over her, looking down at her with a malevolent smile.  “Warn me about what?”

Ladybug straightened up and met his eyes unintimidated.  Red Hood cursed his helmet for hiding his normal intimidation tactics.  “We know about the plan…” she continued.

“And the Bat is planning on interfering?” he cut her off again, moving even closer until their chests were almost touching, a hard edge in his voice.

Ladybug raised an eyebrow, but didn’t back away.  “And,” she started, letting her annoyance at him not getting her point and repeatedly cutting her off show in her tone, “Batman knows and intends to stop it before it happens,” she confirmed, “but how do you think we found out?  It wasn’t from one of your guys.  They know you’re coming.  They’re prepared.  This isn’t going to be as easy as you thought.”

His body went rigid.  He looked past her onto his warehouse floor watching his men as they finished the last of the preparations.

Ladybug watched him closely for a few seconds.  “Did I lose your attention so quickly?  My information not interesting enough to keep your attention? Or are you already planning something to hurt all of us?”

“Never to hurt you, Pixie.  And you’re more than enough to keep my attention,” he answered sincerely if a bit distractedly.  “But, that's not one of my guys.”

“What?”  She whipped around to look out over the warehouse too.

“I know everyone who works for me.”  His voice was forcefully calm as his eyes flicked from person to person. He pointed at someone loading a box.  “He doesn't.”  His eyes frantically searched.  If there was one, there was more.  “Neither is he.  Damn it.  This is an ambush.”

Red Hood rushed to the computer at his desk and started pressing keys to flip through security camera footage.  “Son of a…”

“What?”  Ladybug was next to him in an instant looking at the screens too.

“You were right.  They knew and they brought the fight to us,” he growled making a mental calculation of how many people were surrounding his warehouse and their weapons.

Ladybug sucked in a breath and reached up to tap the com in her ear. Red Hood grabbed her arm before she could notify the rest of the bats.  “We don’t need them here,” he growled.

Ladybug’s face scrunched up in annoyance.  “This is out of your control now.  There’s too many of them and they are too well armed.”

“My men and I can handle this,” he growled at her.

Ladybug let out a frustrated huff.  “You saw how many of them there are out there!  And some are already inside!”

“I don’t need his help.  We. Can. Handle. This,” he insisted, crossing his arms across his chest.  “We have a stockpile of armaments here.  We can defend ourselves without outside help.”

Ladybug let out a frustrated, muted scream as she pulled on her hair.  He moved closer and raised an arm intending to squeeze her shoulder comfortingly.  Instead, she turned to face him and shoved his shoulder hard enough for him to stumble back.  “You are just bound and determined to get yourself killed, aren’t you?” she hissed at him.  She stood up to her full height, her back ramrod straight, an angry frown on her lips. “And what good does that do anyone? How does that help… the street kids?”

Hood’s eyes softened, his shoulders dropped slightly.  “Just the street kids you’re worried about?” he teased lightly. “Better be careful, Pixie.  I might start to think you like me.”

She huffed and looked away.  After a second, she looked back at him with a determined set to her face.  “So what’s the plan?”

“You’re going to help?” he asked, too shocked by her willingness to help to keep it out of his voice.

“This is going to get bad, especially if they get to the stockpile. I want to contain the damage. But,” she turned to him with a warning in her voice, “I won’t just stop them.  I’ll stop everyone I come across.  I’m not going to kill or let you or your men kill and I need to be seen stopping both sides so rumors of favoritism don’t start spreading.  That wouldn’t be good for either one of us.”

Red Hood nodded in understanding and smiled at the thought of them working together, even if his hands were tied in the process.  He moved a step closer to her and leaned his head until he was just a few inches from her.  “But I am right?  Your favorite.”

Ladybug stared at him for a moment and opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed her mouth and looked back through the window.  “Let’s get moving.  We don’t have time to waste.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded with a grin as he followed her through the door, guns drawn.  Ladybug eyed the guns and raised an eyebrow.  “Yeah, yeah, non-fatal shots, I know.”  Ladybug nodded and unhooked her yoyo, continuing down the steps.

<><><><><> 

“What’ll you do now?” Ladybug asked after all the Penguin’s men had been piled up in a few vans and taken back to be dropped off without their phones or wallets a long way from Gotham.

Red Hood shrugged considerably more casually than he felt.  He watched her from the corner of his eye, noting her hesitance and awkwardness. She was shuffling from foot to foot almost like she was hesitant to leave and he desperately wanted her to stay. He wanted to keep her next to him and make sure she was safe and protected, warm and smiling.  But he didn’t have time today.  Today, tonight, he had other priorities.  “Check on my guys.  Check on the families of the ones that fell.  Figure out the mole.  Move to a new base.”

Her face fell slightly, but she nodded.  “Ah.”

Red Hood took off his helmet as he moved closer to her. He cupped her face.  “You could help,” he suggested softly.

Ladybug leaned into his hand but gave him a bittersweet smile and shook her head.  “Not going to help a crime boss.”

Red Hood sighed and removed his hand.  He looked down and nodded.  “Yeah, I understand.  Thanks for not taking me in.  I guess that’s the best I can get today.”

Ladybug nodded and looked away sadly.  She gave him one last smile before she pulled out her yoyo.  “Yeah. Night, Jason.”  After a moment’s hesitation slung it out and swung into the night.

Red Hood nodded to her and watched as she swung away. His chest tightened as he watched her leave.  It was getting hard to take a full breath and getting harder the further away she got. His eyes followed her until he couldn’t make her out against the city nightscape.  “Night, Marinette,” he whispered to nobody.

Continued in Mine Protector

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

We come to a close.

“Here you go, Riddle. Eat up.”

A slice of strawberry tart was placed before the birthday boy. Trey had taken care to carve up the best slice he could manage, with fat strawberries piled high and glistening upon a generous mound of custard. Like red jewels upon a pile of gold.

Riddle immediately dug in, breaking off a piece large enough to hold a bit of everything. Fruit, flaky crust, and custard in a single bite—a rotunda of full-bodies flavors in his mouth.

“Your sweets never get old, Trey,” Riddle sighed contentedly. “I could eat these forever.”

“I appreciate the compliment, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. You might get a stomachache if you eat so much.”

“I know that very well!”

Riddle cheekily took another bite—and there it was, that taste he loved so much. A road paved by a subtle, mellow sweetness, followed by a burst of brightness and buttery sheets of pastry dough. It was a walkway, a path inviting him into a wonderland.

“... I’ll miss this flavor,” he murmured, the third bite of tart suspended on his fork. “What will I do when you’re off at your internship?”

“I can give you the recipe if you’d like. Then you can make all the strawberry tarts in the world for yourself.”

“It wouldn’t be the same.” Riddle’s stern gaze softened. “Food tastes best when it is served in the company of friends.”

“You’ve got plenty of new friends.”

Riddle followed Trey’s eyes to a clearly chaotic scene.

Floyd had seized the body pillow of himself and was using it to smack a collared Ace repeatedly over the head. The other body pillow had been claimed by Silver, who had fallen asleep on it while Sebek loomed over him, demanding that he wake up. Meanwhile, Deuce was bent at a perfect 90 degree angle and apologizing profusely to Jade. Che’nya busied himself in a corner, shoveling food into his mouth.

Riddle sighed deeply. “That’s certainly one way to put it.”

“You’ll be just fine.” Trey had already set to work cutting up a second slice of tart. “When you go away for your internship, the first years will probably be feeling how you are right now.”

“... The future seems so far away, and yet so close at the same time.” Riddle propped his cheek up with a hand. “I fear for Heartslabyul in my absence.”

“Hey, hey!” a familiar voice cried. Cater appeared on the birthday boy’s right, resting his weight on the table. “Is Riddle-kun over here worrying? That’s a big no-no for a birthday!”

“Who died and made you Queen of Hearts?”

“Ahahah... Is that another joke of yours, Dorm Leader? You’ve gotta practice your tone a little more for maximum comedic effect!” Cater winked.

“... You have need of me, I presume.”

“Kind of, sort of!!” Cater flashed his phone. “See, I couldn’t help but overhear that you would miss us third years—so we should take a group selfie to commemorate today!”

“I wouldn’t be against that. Riddle?”

“You may proceed.” He nodded. “What sort of expression should I make, Cater?”

“You don’t need to plan it out! Just do whatever comes naturally to you. If you feel super happy, then let it show!”

“Ah, but...”

Riddle felt a hand grasping his shoulder—and with his other hand, Cater held his phone out. Trey huddled to Riddle’s other side, squeezing to get himself, and a tart, into the frame. They both glanced at small boy expectantly.

“Smile for the camera, Dorm Leader~”

Riddle stared into the lens and put on a practiced smile. Perfect, polite. Not too big or goofy, the type of smile deemed appropriate.

Something purple suddenly flashed before Riddle’s eyes. And there, in the corner of his field of vision, was Che’nya behind the phone—cross eyed, tongue to the side, cheeks tugged out, and his tail draped over his upper lip as a fake mustache. A silly face.

“Pffft...!!!” Riddle tried—and failed—to contain his laughter. His own mouth curved into a wobbly grin, one eye twitching as he tried to shove the giggled back inside.

CLICK!!

The timer on Cater’s phone went off, capturing Riddle’s expression forever.

“Uwaaah, we got an awesome pic! I can’t wait this to post on Magicam~“

“Che’nya!! Wha... What did you do that for?!” Riddle cried, leaping to his feet. He threw a frantic look at Cater. “Let’s retake it!!”

“No can do, Dorm Leader! An adorable face like this deserves to be shared with the masses~”

“Haha, you did good, Che’nya,” Trey called out. “You got Riddle’s cute side to come out.”

“Myahahaha! Couldn’t have done it without ya guys!”

“Whose side are you on here, Trey?!”

“Oh? We were taking sides? I wasn’t aware.” ... But that wicked smirk on his face was a telltale sign of a lie.

“You lot...!!”

“Nya-ow, nya-ow, let’s not get caught up in all that!!” Che’nya tugged on Riddle’s arm, bringing him onto his feet. “Let’s have a pillow fight with everyone!!”

“Huh?! A pillow fight?! Here? Now?!”

“Sure! Why nya-ot?”

Riddle’s protests fell on deaf ears as he was whisked off. His half eaten strawberry tart remained on the table, to be tended to later.

He was growing up oh so fast.

[ghosthunterbuck]

fundamental pieces

buddie (1.6k) (read it on AO3)

Eddie’s knees hit the ground with a dull thud that he doesn’t feel.

He doesn’t feel anything, actually. He can’t. Because if he feels something, he’s going to feel everything, and if he feels everything, he’s going to come apart at the seams.

He can’t look away from the smoldering pile of rubble in front of him. Dimly, he’s aware that there are other people around, people who could be hurt, people who might need his help. He’s frozen, though. Stuck on his knees, might as well be fossilized in amber.

Buck.

Buck is—

Fuck, Eddie can’t even bring himself to think it. The house was standing and now it’s not. The ground was stable and then it wasn’t. Buck was—

And now he’s not.

The flashing lights from the fire engine cast strange moving shadows across the debris. Eddie tracks each one of them, unable to stop himself. It can’t have been more than a minute — the dust from the collapse still lingers heavily in the air, and no one’s started shouting orders yet — but time is stretching and folding in on itself and Eddie’s pretty sure he’s going to be stuck in this moment for the rest of his life.

And then, his radio crackles to life.

“Buckley to 118, I could use a little help down here.”

Eddie can’t help the wounded noise that falls from his lips. His entire body sags, a marionette with strings cut.

He allows himself a count of three, then stumbles to his feet. Buck needs him. He shoves the past few minutes in a box he knows he’ll never want to open again. Buck needs him.

The next half hour is a blur filled with structural engineers and thermal cameras and half hearted jokes over the radio. Buck’s okay, just trapped in a pocket beneath one of the house’s sturdier beams.

It’s maddening, knowing that Buck is less than a hundred yards away and not being able to get to him. Eddie feels trapped in his own skin. He wants to say to hell with it and just start digging, but the engineers say that any wrong move could collapse the bubble that Buck’s in. So he clenches his jaw and waits.

His radio crackles again. “Hey Eddie?”

Eddie fumbles to press the button down so he can respond. “Buck? What’s wrong?” Eddie can hear the tension in his own voice, barely covering the panic that lies beneath.

“I’m fine,” Buck answers immediately. “I just… never mind. It’s stupid.”

“Tell me what it is,” Eddie says, as soft as he can manage right now.

There’s a long pause. “Can you talk to me?” Even over the radio, Buck’s voice sounds small.

Eddie lets out a breath. “Yeah, Buck, I can do that. What do you want to talk about?”

“What, uh, what’s Christopher doing at school this week?”

Eddie knows damn well Buck already knows the answer to that question, but he indulges it anyway, telling Buck about the history fair coming up and the diorama Chris wants to build.

“I’m pretty sure he’s going to conscript you for that one,” Eddie chuckles. It’s a little forced, but it’s the best he can do under the circumstances.

“Well someone’s got to help him with the papier-mâché, and we both know it’s not going to be you,” Buck says.

“Hey!” Eddie says, mock-affronted. “I helped on the last one! With the solar system?”

“Eds, you popped the balloon before the sun was dry. It looked like a weird yellow raisin.” The amusement in Buck’s voice is good to hear.

He’s about to defend himself when Bobby claps him on the shoulder. “We’re moving in,” he says. “Let Buck know.”

Eddie swallows. “Buck? Still there?” It’s a stupid question. Nothing’s changed in the last 30 seconds, but waiting for Buck’s response still feels like standing on a precipice.

“Nowhere else to go,” Buck confirms.

“We’re on our way to you,” Eddie says roughly.

“Roger,” Buck replies. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just hang tight and keep your helmet on straight,” Bobby says.

“You got it, Cap.”

—

Digging through the rubble is delicate, and frankly terrifying, work. They’ve got airbags holding up the points that the engineers identified as load bearing, but every time something in the structure shifts, Eddie’s breath catches. Eventually, though, they’ve got a path cleared right up to where Buck should be.

“Nash to Buckley,” Bobby says into his radio.

“I read you, Cap.”

“We’re right on top of you. Keep your face covered and don’t try to help.”

Eddie swears he can hear the cheeky smile Buck must be wearing when he says, “No help from me, got it.”

It’s another agonizing ten minutes, then finally, finally, Eddie’s got one of Buck’s hands clasped in his, and he’s pulling him from the house’s crumbled remains.

“Shit,” Buck says, surveying the damage. “You must’ve thought—“

Eddie unintentionally tightens his grip on Buck’s hand. It’s the opposite of what he should be doing, but he can’t let go. Buck squeezes back.

“I’m fine, Eds,” he says softly.

And Eddie knows, he does, but he’s not going to believe it until he’s checked every inch of him over himself.

—

“Thank you,” Buck says, out of the blue.

It’s a few hours later, and they’re back at the station. As intense as the call had been, Buck had gotten out of it without a scrape, so they’re all still on duty.

“For what?” Eddie asks.

Everyone else is asleep, so it’s just the two of them sprawled out on the loft’s couch. There’s some nature documentary playing on the TV, but Eddie’s fairly certain neither of them is watching it.

“For distracting me. Earlier, I mean. I, uh. It helped.”

Eddie gives up his pretense of paying attention to the hyenas on the screen and turns to look at Buck.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he whispers. It gives away far too much, but he’s so far past the point of worrying about that.

Buck swallows heavily, like he’s heard everything that Eddie didn’t mean to reveal with those five words. He shifts until he’s pressed against Eddie, ankle to shoulder.

“I was scared,” Buck admits, toying with the sleeve of the LAFD hoodie he’s wearing. Eddie wants to take his hand all over again.

“I thought—“ Eddie can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. “I was scared, too,” he says instead.

Buck looks at him. He bites his lower lip and frowns. “I just kept thinking that I didn’t want to tell you over the radio,” he sighs finally.

“Tell me what?” Eddie asks.

Buck looks away again. He’s starting to hunch in on himself the way he does when he’s feeling vulnerable. Eddie gives into his earlier urge and takes Buck’s hand in his own.

“Whatever it is,” Eddie says softly, “you can tell me. I promise.”

Buck’s eyes shoot back up to Eddie’s, searching. Whatever he’s looking for, he must find.

“I love you,” he says simply.

He can’t mean it the way Eddie wants him to. The way Eddie’s wanted him to for months, years probably. He squeezes Buck’s hand tighter for want of words.

“I’m in love with you,” Buck clarifies. “I just… couldn’t not tell you.” His expression is almost resigned.

Eddie’s frozen all over again, but this time he let’s himself feel it all. Because Buck’s okay. Buck’s sitting right in front of him. Buck loves him.

“Evan,” Eddie breathes, unable to keep the name from slipping between his lips.

The resignation on Buck’s face shifts to hope, and he holds Eddie’s gaze. Lit by the blue glow of the television, he’s never looked more beautiful.

Eddie can’t wait another second. He ducks forward and brushes a feather light kiss across Buck’s lips. His intention is to lean back, to assess Buck’s reaction, but then Buck makes a strangled noise and surges forward, capturing Eddie’s mouth with his own.

The hand that isn’t otherwise occupied lifts of its own accord to cup Buck’s jaw. Buck’s free hand fists in the material of Eddie’s uniform. It’s like no kiss Eddie’s experienced before, fire and passion underlined by aching tenderness, and over all too soon.

Eddie leans his forehead against Buck’s breathing harshly.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Buck pants.

“I think I might,” Eddie says.

Buck pulls back, just far enough to look Eddie in the eye. “You…”

Eddie wants to laugh. Even after that, of course Buck’s still not sure. Eddie’s not one for speeches, but Buck… Buck deserves to know exactly what he means to him. “Earlier, when I thought… it was like the whole world stopped. And I didn’t want it to start again, because I was terrified it’d be starting without you. I can’t do any of this without you. I don’t want to. I’ve been in love with you for so long it’s a fundamental part of who I am.”

It’s Buck’s turn to freeze.

“I love you,” Eddie says. He squeezes Buck’s hand.

The soft pressure must break him out of his stupor, because he lunges at Eddie again, this time throwing his arms around Eddie’s neck and burying his face in his shoulder. Eddie wraps his arms around Buck’s waist and buries his nose in Buck’s hair.

“I love you,” he whispers again, just because he can.

—

Bobby finds them the next morning, tangled together on the couch and snoring softly. He smiles, and resolves to make breakfast quietly.

[charming-mage]

The Search For Marinette Dupain-Cheng

This is my take on my prompt The Search For Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

You know, I always wondered about Marinette taking care of Akumas while overseas. If she takes too long, she’ll scare her loved ones half to death. Can’t rush too much or else she risks losing her miraculous because of it. Since no one is aware of her identity, she doesn’t have anyone to cover for her.  Friends who are unaware of the truth will cover her for so long before they have to fess up.

In salt fics, the class usually doesn’t care where Marinette is on Gotham trips. Here, they give a shit.

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In which Lila messes with some signs and Marinette gets lost when she comes back late (via Kaalki) after dealing with an Akuma attack in France. 

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The two week school field trip in Tokyo was supposed to be an enjoyable experience. There’s booked reservations at classy restaurants, a fancy hotel with a big pool, shows, and tours throughout Tokyo. Lila is most looking forward to the fashion expo. If she doesn’t do something soon, it looks like she’ll miss out on that too. Marinette been missing for two days and Lila is already sick of it. 

All because she miscalculated in a spur of the moment plan.

“Marinetteeee! Where are you,” shouts a crying Alya. The girl spots a few tourists and shoves a flier in their faces. Nino joins in with his own fliers. “Have you seen my friend Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Cutest French girl you’ve ever seen with a heart of gold. So kind she’d innocently help a stranger, unaware they’re a bad guy.” The tourists each give a half hearted ‘no’ before speed walking away.

“Walk faster Lila! Marinette can be anywhere.”

Lila puts on a concerned mask. “Of course.”

All this time wasted just because she moved some signs. 

She hadn’t meant for Marinette to go missing. Only to buy some time so she can guilt trip Adrien to be her partner for the fashion expo. 

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The day before, the class went to a big nature park. It’s notable for its many trails. The deeper you went into the park, the denser the trees are. They all partnered up and to her dismay she got Nathaniel instead of Adrien. The best thing about the artist is that he gets so into drawing the sights he doesn’t notice when she wanders off. It gave her more time to plot how to switch partners with the least amount of fuss.

During one of her secret plotting sessions, she heard a very loud conversation farther down the trail she’s on. Rose shouts for Marinette to not split up, and Marinette screams back a blatant lie about wanting to see a moose in the Relaxation Trial. Also to not expect her for forty minutes. Total hypocrite this girl is. ‘We can only be friends if you stop lying.’ Sure, and it’s okay for only Marinette to lie. Everyone else who does so is bad. Can’t even tell Rose you honestly want to ditch her.

When Lila noticed the Relaxation Trail sign nearby, an idea formed in her head. She ducked into a bush to hide. When Marinette ran into the trail and her map fell out of her bag Lila burst into action. 

It took a little adjustment to the multiple sign post. It wasn’t too hard as the signs on the pole were already a little loose. Just needed to switch the sign that led back to the meetup with the Reflection Trial sign. According to the map, the Reflection one is a winding trial leading to a dead end. Marinette would be forced to walk all the back as the park employees told them it’s easy to get lost if you go off the trial. Aside from putting some sticks on the map, it was left mostly alone as she wanted her rival to use it to get back to base. She may not have liked Marinette, but she didn’t want anything horrible to happen to her.

By the time it got dark, Marinette still hadn’t gotten back to the meetup point. Forty minutes had already flown by. Lila hadn’t noticed as she was trying to convince Adrien to switch partners and tell everyone it was his idea. If Marinette was here the noisy girl would have interfered. 

Rose’s cry of alarm got the others to find out Marinette was missing. The goodie two shoes wasn’t answering Rose’s calls. A quick check near the Relaxation Trial sign revealed Marinette’s map had flown into a bush.

The field trip went downhill from there. 

The police were called. Afterwards, it’s discovered the cameras in that area were down much to Lila’s relief. Even though she feels a bit responsible, she’s not admitting to anything. Even if she did confess, it’s not like it’ll help the police. Doing so will get her in huge trouble and gain scrutiny in her actions from then on. How will telling what she did help find Marinette? It’d be for nothing.

When it comes down to it, Lila’s self preservation is above Marinette’s well being.

Some good fun will keep her mind from unpleasant things. Too bad no one besides Lila is interested in the scheduled events. This is a vacation, so going to a few events is a must. The class just want to spend time searching for Marinette. The transfer student wouldn’t have minded hanging up missing posters or spreading the word. This class takes it to another level.

Every waking moment is spent looking for Marinette. Breaks become a treasured time. They walk many miles each day. Max posts missing posters in Japanese forums. Alya bothers the police for updates. Adrien even got Chole (who stayed in Paris) to pull some strings to get more attention in the local news.

Because of Marinette’s disappearance, they have to stay in groups of at least three. No exceptions. So if Lila wants to do anything, she needs to convince any group she’s in to go with her.

It’s more challenging than expected.

Day 5

"Hey guys, why don’t we take our break inside the museum we were supposed to go to? It has air conditioning and we can look at some stuff for a bit while we’re sitting down.”

“Sorry Lila, I’m not in the mood to admire art.”

“I agree with Nathaniel. Just doesn’t feel right.”

Day 8

“Let’s go on the sightseeing tour. We can look for Marinette while we’re on it.”

“No thanks.”

“Nah, a taxi is better as we can choose where to drive.”

Day 10

“.....my leg injury is acting up. It’s okay to leave me here. I don’t mind.”

“No way Lila. We’re not leaving you alone on a bench outside Universal Studios. What if we lose you too?”

“.............”

Day 11

Lila has had it with these people. Reservations and events have been canceled. Solemn, awkward moping. Refusal to do anything but looking for Marinette. The only event left is the one she’s been most looking forward to: the fashion expo. Through some maneuvering and sneakiness, no one remembered to cancel the expo tickets.

There’s no way in hell she wants to miss this event: a lecture by Edna Mode herself. There’s rumors circling the fashion industry the famous designer is going to explore a new clothing line. Along with finding a muse for it.

The previous class activities can be let go without much struggle. Not this one, though. This could be the golden ticket to a very prestigious job. Even more than being a Gabriel model.

There’s a chance things might go right this time. The group is filled by pushovers Adrien, Rose, and Juleka. As long as she stays firm, they’ll go along with her plan.

With the directions in mind, Lila manages to slyly maneuver the group to walk outside Tokyo Big Sight. The sight of the Edna Mode banners hanging outside the arena fills her with excitement.

Lila coughs for their attention. “Guys, it’s time for our lunch break. We need the energy to keep this up.”

Rose reluctantly says, “Oh you’re right Lila. Can you pass out our lunches please?” 

“Sure thing.” She reaches into the bag and whoops. There’s conveniently no lunch bags in there. “Oh no guys, there’s only water bottles in here.”

“It’s okay Lila, we can buy some food nearby.” Rose digs out her phone. “Hmm... I think there’s a cheap fast food place nearby.”

“There’s no need to look far. We can just go into the expo. They have to have some food near the entrance.”

There’s silence at her words.

Juleka narrows her eyes. “Why do I feel you just want to go to the expo?”

Lila is surprised Juleka of all people is calling her out. “No, no. It’s just, why walk more when there’s food right here.”

“Lila, do you not care about finding Marinette?,” a sad Rose asks.

“How could you say that? Of course I do! We worked so hard and we deserve a break. Marinette would understand.”

Rose snaps. “Understand? Every minute counts! We might never see Marinette ever again. She could be injured and alone, kidnapped, or worse! If one of us was missing, she wouldn’t give up.”

The fire in Rose’s eyes startles Lila. Never thought she’d see the bubbly girl break her happy persona. 

“No one said anything about giving up. Besides, the police are looking-”

“That doesn’t mean we should sit by and do nothing.” Rose tears up. “It’s my fault Marinette is gone. If I didn’t let her run off on her own, she would still be here.”

Juleka gives a comforting hug to Rose. 

Adrien speaks up. “I know you don’t like Marinette, but I never thought you would sink so low. It’s one thing if you’re not interested in helping. It’s another to actively interfere in something our friends care about.”

“I d-d-o care. We can pick up search after we eat.” It’s not like Lila wanted to prevent them from searching for Marinette. Ms. Bustier has forbidden anyone from being on their own. So she needed someone to be with her in order to do something. 

Lila spent so much time reassuring them, they missed the lecture.

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“---Breaking News! A French teenager stopped a missile launch by terrorists. Marinette Dupain-Cheng went missing during her class’ field trip. Miraculously, she disabled their base of operations, rescued a Princess, fought against pirates, escaped on the back of a deer, got their leader to surrender to the authorities-”

“That’s our every day Ladybug.” Alya hugs the TV with tears of joy. “Obviously she’d save the day while missing.” The reporter actually hissed when a stranger tried to tell her to stop hogging the TV. No one attempted removing her after that.

Since Ms. Bustier is currently with the police to bring Marinette back, there’s no one to reign in the partying classmates. Alix somehow convinced the hotel to give them a big complementary celebration cake. 

The only person not celebrating is an angry Lila. Glaring at her phone, the headlines riles her up every time she sees it.

Edna Mode’s First Baby Fashion Line

The Inspiration Behind the New Designs

“My godson is my inspiration-”

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Jack-Jack is Edna’s muse. Lol.

To save you a google search, this park mentioned in this fic is made up. It’s based on a bunch nature parks I’ve been to before. Tokyo does have parks and nature trials, though. In case you missed it, an attack happened in the late afternoon and Marinette got back at night (when it got dark) in Japan Standard Time. Keep in mind there is a 8 hour difference between these countries.

With this completed, I can finish chapter two of Dupont’s Worst Nightmare. :)

[softlyjiminie]

cherry glosses n car washes | j.j.k

⇢ pairing(s): goth!jeon jungkook x sorority sister!reader.

⇢ word count: 7K.

⇢ rating: 18+, mature.

⇢ genre: pwp, smut, fluff, college!au, sorority!au.

⇢ summary: in the blistering heat of the summer sun, a bikini carwash is the last place you’d expect to find tattoo bearing, black sweater wearing jeon jungkook. but then again, no one expected to find him dating everyone’s beloved sorority queen YN LN either. in all honesty, he only really came to support her…but most definitely in more ways than one.

⇢ warning(s): please read! brief fight scene, heavy smut, pwp, switch!jungkook, switch!reader, oral sex (male receiving.), oral fixation, fingering, handjobs, heavy!exhibitionism, dirty talk, overstimulation, male masturbation, cumplay, creampie, unprotected sex - please wear protection!

⇢ author’s note(s): hello my loves! happy august! i hope you all are having a beautiful summer! the time has finally arrived for this cheeky fic, read with caution! extreeeme jk spice up ahead. ( thank you to @bangtan-headquarters for allowing me to participate in their Bangtan Boardwalk Collab Event! )

everyone knows who YN LN is. some know you as a daughter, a friend but to everyone at alpha delta pi, you were sister. you were a kind to all, taking care of your peers in your sorority, whether that be during times of hardship or just needing a simple friend to pull through. no person went untouched by your bright light, no person went without your cheery smiles and soft spoken voice, through cherry glossed lips and under peach blush.  you made friends everywhere you went, entrancing them with sparkling eyes and a soft cherry blossom scent— and although you denied it, you were everything everyone wanted to be; smart, pretty, popular— you were living the dream.

but then there was your dream...jeon jungkook.

with dark ink tattoos of guns and roses spiralling down his arms and intertwining with his finger tips, long, thick hair and more piercings than you could count, jeon jungkook was the epitome of college bad boy. your boyfriend was the complete opposite of yourself, trading out any colour for black sweatshirts and heavy combat boots, grazed knuckles and a pierced lip that contrasted with the bubblegum pink shirts you wore every wednesday because your sorority was obsessed with early 2000s movies and yelling ‘you can’t sit with us!’ to jocks across the quad.  

jungkook liked rock music, his motorbike named missy, painting his nails black and writing songs with his little band ( the weeping kittens, which you always found absolutely morbid but loved anyways ) whilst you liked collecting sparkly lipgloss and pretty stationary kits and those sanrio stickers that you liked to put on jungkook’s phone case sometimes. it was a wonder to anyone on campus how you got together, and to say they were intrigued was an understatement.

but you loved him for who he was, even with all of his odd little tendencies; like wearing black in the summer and scrunching his nose up when he laughed too hard, or how he used your hair clips to hold his hair back when he was concentrating. you liked that he quiet in class but loud and giggly with you, soft and sensitive, snarky and sweet. jungkook wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met, not like jung hoseok from your brother frat— who all your friends thought you’d end up with. of course, you’d flirted with the jock once or twice at parties but he hadn’t stolen your heart that night in sophomore year when jungkook stole your kisses in the back of his yoongi hyung’s van.

and although your friends still try to set you two up, jung hoseok will never be your jeon jungkook— there just isn’t anyone else like him.

that’s why you wear his oversized black AC/DC shirt that differs very much from the pink interior of your room, decorated by your roommate in the sorority house on campus. you didn’t have the heart to tell aerum that the feathers above your bed made you sneeze in your sleep, or that her choice of wallpaper sometimes made you woozy and that you’d much rather a less...bedazzled look; so you let her decorate as she pleases, with only a few hums in of agreement when she changes the settings on the LED lights every week. it’s only now that you realise how blistering this summer is, so you have the air con turned up to the max— goosebumps rising on your bare legs as you chat to your boyfriend of a year over facetime about you’re upcoming philanthropy project.

‘a bikini car wash, huh? like in those teen romcom movies you make me watch?”

your boyfriend mumbles absentmindedly—jungkook has his phone propped up against something, giving you a full view of his perfectly toned body as he strums away at his guitar— he claims he’s writing you another song, the lyrics purely focused on your pink skirts and cherry vanilla chapstick, but your concentration slips as you watch his inked fingers tug at his guitar strings...thinking about the way they’d curl around your throat or slip into the warmth of your mouth and press down against your pink tongue.

your lover glances up from playing for just a brief moment, the corner of his red lips twitching up into a brilliant smile when he catches you looking. ‘dollface, you’re staring.’ he whispers smugly, quirking his pierced brow at you and you struggle to hide the warm blush that blooms across the apples of your cheeks and neck.

“no i’m not.”

‘don’t be a brat, you know you are.’

you whine at his scolding tone, rolling over on your disney printed bed sheets because after all, you’re still a little girl... or his little girl as jungkook would put it. he makes a low noise in his throat, finally putting down his god forsaken instrument so he can pay attention to you, before sitting back in his seat expectantly. “are you sure you don’t wanna come? we’re raising money for a good cause!” you try again, jutting out your bottom lip in full pouty mode as you bat your eyelashes up at him. you’d been trying to convince jungkook to come to your philanthropy event for at least a week— the aforementioned car wash that was happening tomorrow— but whenever you brought it up, his gaze would drop and he’d fall quiet. “we’re donating all the proceeds to food shelters...”

‘i don’t know, YN...’

“i even got a new bikini, i wanna show it off for you!”

‘angel...’ your boyfriend sighs, running a hand through his midnight locks with the lightest hints of frustration. you deflate immediately, dropping the topic in favour for not pushing him any further. you don’t mean to upset him, you just really want him there so you can show him off and gush about how much you love him— the thought itself has your pout deepening before you know it. ‘come on now dollface don’t make that face, you know i can’t help myself when you make that face...’

this much is true, you know that no matter what you’re doing, if you make that face— jungkook’s a goner. “meh...” your voice is quiet and muffled from where you’ve shoved your face into the sheets to hide from jungkook, because you know that you’ll melt if you look at him. you don’t know what it was about him, but your lover always had a way of making you feel small in the best of ways. despite his quiet personality, jungkook was very domineering inside and outside of the bedroom, he cared for you like no other, protected you like no other. he wasn’t one to take advantage your kindness and he wasn’t about to let anyone else do the same so perhaps that’s also why you fell for him.

jungkook hums, leaning into the camera to get a better look at you. ‘it’s not that i don’t want to come and support you baby... i’m just worried that you’ll be exposed too much and—’  he lowers his voice, so you feel as if he’s lying right next to, causing you whimper out for him. the boy tuts, a lazy smile painting his lips as he looks at you with all the love in his eyes. ‘—and god as much as i’d love to see you show off your little outfit for me, i’m not so sure i’d fit in with your...crowd of friends...’ you nod your head slowly in understanding, because as much as you loved the girls in your sorority, they had a knack for making jungkook feel like he didn’t deserve you, purely because he was different from your usual type and jungkook was always too shy and introverted to say anything. you hated that he couldn’t feel comfortable around your friends like you could with his— so you couldn’t blame him for not wanting to come around.

“s’ okay googie,” you hum, curling into a ball on your bed as he laughs at your pet name for him. “i’ll just have to show it to you another time.”

‘another time it is, dollface.’ jungkook repeats, pretending to boop your nose through the screen. you talk for a little while longer before the members of the weeping kittens come in and interrupt your facetime call.  the band consists of four members; yoongi the drummer, namjoon the guitarist , jimin the bassist and jungkook, of course, lead singer and guitarist number two. the older two occupy themselves with teasing your boyfriend, poking his cheeks and singing old playground songs ( “YN and jungkook sitting in the tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”) whilst jimin clings to the youngest like a baby and if you hadn’t known better, you’d have thought that the purple haired male was the baby of the group.  

jungkook’s cheeks flush a deep crimson when you decide to play along, wishing him a goodnight that makes his face ripple with cringe. “sleep tight googie-poo,” you coo with a sing song tone, finally sitting up to blow him a kiss. the other members shriek with laughter, ruffling their little junggoogie’s mop of dark hair as you tease him for them to see. “i love youuu!”

‘goodnight angel-bear,’ jungkook says quietly, gritting his teeth has he sinks into his sweater to hide his embarrassment. you know his reaction is more of a result of his hyung’s teasing— he claims he can’t sleep well without saying goodnight in your special way. ‘i love you too...’ he mumbles, giving you a shy smile before hanging up the call, leaving you to fall asleep with an equally wide smile.

“there you go, joongie, hope she’s clean enough for you!”

you grin as you wipe the remaining sudds off of hongjoong’s bright red vintage car that you’re sure he spent all of his college loans on. nonetheless, you take the twenty he offers you from his wound down window and ruffle his matching strawberry hair. “thanks YN-ah,” he giggles, turning away from you for a brief second to tuck his wallet away, he briefly smacks his friend ( mingi ) on the thigh for staring at your boobs — and you can’t blame him, you love those girls — before offering you a bright smile. “you guys did a great job on her.”

you thank him once again, winking at mingi with a sly smile before waving the boys off and waiting for the next customer. the bikini car wash your sorority has set up is booming with business, students from across campus driving in to get their cars cleaned. some of the girls on the committee ordered in pink and white balloons to hang outside your dorm house, with a handmade sign saying ‘alpha delta pi wash!’ painted in pastel shades. your girls are having a great time too, looking stunning in all types of bathing suits that show off their beautiful bodies under  golden rays, splashing each other with soapy water to ease the burn of the summer sun against their skin.

you quite like the little number you’re wearing too, a pale pink two piece with obsidian black accents and panelling at either side. you wave to some of the girls as you head over to your booth to count the cash you’ve made so far, when the familiar sound of rowdy cheers and hollering boys fills the air. barely glancing up from your work, you note the excited squeals of younger members of your sorority— already tripping over their flip flops to get a taste of the frat boys that take over your car wash.

“what does a guy have to do to get his car washed around here?”

rolling your eyes, you close the catch box with a drawn out sigh— picking up your gaze to meet that of jung hoseok’s. he stands half a head taller than you, chocolate brown hair parted and pushed back from his forehead, he wears the typical varsity jacket and baseball cap combo, paired with blue jeans and his signature chunky trainers. you wouldn’t lie and say that hoseok wasn’t attractive because you’d messed about with him once or twice before, but now he couldn’t seem to understand the boundaries of your blossoming relationship with jungkook. “pay thirteen bucks and use some manners?” your question is more of a statement, with you not in the mood to deal with a cocky frat boy who thinks he’s entitled to your service. the brunette looks taken a back, not used to your snarky attitude with him, but today was not a day for you to be messed with, all you wanted was to raise money for a good cause and have fun, not deal with assholes like him. nonetheless, the jock hands you his donation with a smirk as you whistle over one of the girls to help him.

“hyeri, you don’t mind helping hoseok over here do you—?”

“no,” hoseok cuts in, stepping between yourself and the older girl— stopping her from taking the equipment she needs to clean his car. you roll your shoulders, a light sweat dripping between their blades as frustration builds up within your temple— dealing with hoseok is bothersome and all you want is to relax and let lose. the brunette steps closer to you, and hyeri watches with blushing cheeks, the short, red head almost wishing she was in your position— her flustered attitude only inflating the boy’s ego. so entitled. hoseok was so so entitled. thinking that he could get anything he wanted from any girl just because he was pretty, and maybe that was the reason why he liked you so much— because you resisted him. “i want you to do it, YN, wash my car for me princess? please?”

scoffing, you cross your arms and send an apologetic look to the bumbling mess that is now hyeri. “book him a slot for me, love? i’ll let you help?” you ask softly to which she nods her head and runs off to take a note. hoseok smiles triumphantly but his win is quickly shot down by the glare you send him, and if looks could kill, he’d be six feet under. “you know it’s gonna cost you extra for even having me near you, right?”

“that’s an extra cost i’m will to pay...” the boy hums, smirk finding its way onto his lips once again, as he hands you another twenty before heading back to his car full of idiots. relieved that he’s gone ( for the time being ) you release a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding and head off to grab an extra bucket and sponge to clean hoseok’s obnoxiously bright yellow ferrari, but not before you take a second to reapply a layer of your favourite cherry gloss that had faded during the day.

you miss the recognisable sound of yoongi’s truck while your back is turned to the hustle and bustle of your event, so your skin jumps with goosebumps when a familiar pair of arms wrap around your bare waist. “guess who?” a soothing voice whispers into your ear, causing a light giggle to pass between your freshly glossed lips.

“let me think, is it mr. tall dark and handsome?” you tease, squealing as jungkook picks you up and spins you in his arms. before he’s even set you back onto your feet, your boyfriend attacks your face with soft kisses while tugging you into him.  “you came!” you beam, once jungkook finally allows you to pull away— using an inked finger to trace patters on the small of your back. hums of approval sound from the bottom your throat while your stresses melt away, your boyfriend’s presence easily calming you down.

jungkook nods, a small smile tickling the corners of his pierced lips as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and presses your foreheads together. “i realised that i was being stupid,” the guitarist mumbles, lips only inches away from your own— you’re so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin and his own body heat radiating against yours. although your foreheads are growing sticky from sweat ( a result of the intense summer heat ), you don’t mind, loving being in close proximity to your lover.  “i shouldn’t let the fact that we have different friends stop me from showing my support, i shouldn’t be one to judge your events or say i think you’re exposing yourself— because this is your body and your choice and i’m so proud of you, sorry for being a dumb boy.”

you boop his nose, heart melting at your boyfriend’s words and even more when he scrunches his nose under your touch. “but you’re my dumb boy,” you add, teasing him slightly as you lean up to brush your lips against his. from the outside, it would appear that jungkook would always be the one to make you flustered— so it amused you when your larger, much more intimidating boyfriend blushed under the slightest touches from you. he puckers his lips, awaiting your kiss only for you to nip at his earlobe and whisper. “now how may i help you today?”

pulling away, you can see jungkook shyly curling in on himself— beyond flustered by your actions. his brown doe eyes avoid your gaze while his fingers slip into the sleeves of his black sweater as if he’s hiding. “i uh, also came to get yoongi hyung’s truck washed... he’s not happy with the state we left it in last time,” your lover mumbles quietly, and now you understand why he’s acting more shy than usual.

with bubbling laugher, you reach onto your tippy toes to ruffle jungkook’s long black locks— effectively moving them out of place. “i can help with that, koo,” you tease and pinch his cheeks as you return to your normal height. “but i can’t promise it’ll be any cleaner than last time—“ jungkook tugs you into his chest once more, opening his mouth  to speak, when a car begins honking from your left. you huff, pushing your head into your boyfriend’s broad chest while you grip his sweater. “it’s hoseok...i’m sorry.”

jungkook shakes his head, offering you one of his beautiful bunny smiles before he leans down and captures your bottom lip between his teeth. his deep caramel eyes are locked onto yours before he grasps your cheeks and kisses you fully, tongue slotting perfectly against yours as they battle in a light dance for passion. but as soon as the kiss comes, it’s over, jungkook releasing you while you stand dazed to process what happened. your boyfriend was never one for PDA but you definitely notice how he smirks and revels in the cheers you both get, sending heat straight down to your core and making a light slick pool between your thighs. cheeky bastard. the boy salutes you as he lets you go, allowing you to run off to hoseok’s car while someone else books your lover in, before he heads back over to the truck. you make quick work of building up the suds for washing the car, dipping your sponge into the soapy water as you work on the hood— deciding now of all times, would be an ample opportunity to tease him. in the meantime the guitarist makes himself comfortable in the drivers seat of yoongi’s truck, watching you get to work— and it’s not long before he notices little things about you, like how you lean over hoseok’s car a little more, drawing attention to the curve of your ass or how you purposely drench yourself with the crisp, clear and cool soapy water when you ring out each sponge.

suddenly, jungkook’s pants begin to grow tight and his senses kick into overdrive as he becomes increasingly aware of the show you’re putting on for him. the boy knows what you’re doing, from the way you look at him from over your shoulder, to the spark in your eyes and the way you lick your cherry gloss lips. jungkook’s body acts for him, hand sliding down to the buckle of his pants as he slowly undoes it— his cock is half hard in his briefs just from watching you. he hisses when he grabs his length, pumping it slowly. jungkook feels wrong, dirty for touching himself in public, let alone in his hyung’s van but he can never help himself when it comes to you— so he almost whimpers when you lean over to soap up hoseok’s window and give him a full view of your breasts in the little pink bralette  you wear.

the guitarist thanks his luck that his dark sweater covers his dirty work, thrusting he shallowly into his hand— imagining that it’s your cute little pussy clenching around him. the warmth of need bursting in his chest because god, you look so good and he knows you’ll sound better when you’re underneath him. squeezing his cock, jungkook let’s a low groan rumble in his chest— fingertips just brushing at his orgasm.

but the euphoria of his release is suddenly ripped away from him when another girl he recognises as your roommate, areum, from the nights he visits you at the house— knocks on his window. jungkook tears his hands from his pants and gives the girl a smile, driving over to get the truck washed just as you finish up with hoseok. you smile at the job you’ve done and the way the frat member’s car shines as you dry up your hands. right when you’re about to leave to find jungkook, hoseok slips from his vehicle and grabs your wrist so that your attention is turned to him.

“she looks great, YN... thanks for cleaning her up,” hoseok praises you, leaning back against his precious yellow ferrari that you’re sure is loaned ( because realistically what college student could  afford such a fancy car ), you blink, appreciative of his thanks and nod your head but your mind is too hazy from the looks your guitarist lover was giving you earlier. you know he’s beyond turned on at this point and your mouth almost waters from the thought of him taking you right there, right now. “is there any way i can repay you?”

you snap out of your thoughts, tugging your wrist from hoseok’s grip and smiling at him sweetly— hoping that it speeds up your interaction so you can return to your boyfriend. “you already paid.” you mumble bluntly, turning to leave once more before you’re pulled back into the taller male’s grasp.

“why so distant YN-ah? let me take you out to say thanks?”

“let me go hoseok.” you warn, growling out your words. it’s like he couldn’t understand, that he was incapable of realising that you just weren’t interested in him like that anymore. your eyes and heart were set on jungkook, your days flirting and messing about with boys from the neighbouring frat were over and you didn’t care what people thought of your new relationship. yes, jungkook wasn’t  your usual, conventional type but he was yours. your shy, emo, inked, pierced pretty boy.

“just think about it...” the boy pushes for you to consider it, pulling you into him by the hips as the pads of his fingers sink into your naked skin.

“hoseok.” you repeat, your tone much harsher this time as you push him back by his shoulders.

“just let me—“

the wind is knocked out of you before you have a chance to retort, as you’re yanked free from hoseok’s burning grip into a warm and familiar embrace. you immediately recognise jungkook’s sweet, floral scent and cast your gaze upwards, his sharp jaw is clenched, pierced nose is flared and skin shines under the sun from his light perspiration. you’ve never seen him so angry before, at least not in public. jungkook has never been one to start fights or initiate major PDA in front of anyone, so his attitude today... shocks you. “are you dumb, stupid, or is it both?” your boyfriend spits, anger at hot as the sun that beats down on you. his large palms that hold onto your waist tighten and his possessiveness starts to make you light headed with want. you don’t know if it’s the fact that you’re both angry or that jungkook never gets this pissed but you feel the same wetness from earlier begin to gather in your panties. “shit man,” jungkook continues as a crowd begins to gather. “when a girl says to fuck off, you fuck off, especially when she’s taken.”

your pupils blow wide, gaze flickering over to hoseok who’s chest rises and falls with a mix of embarrassment and anger. you can’t tell which is the more domineering emotion. “and what if i don’t ‘fuck off’ what are you gonna do about it freak? we both know she deserves better than you.” hoseok goes for a low blow, eliciting a chorus of ‘ooo’s and ‘fight! fight! fight!’s from the group that surrounds you and his car. your boyfriend clenches his teeth ready to to spit out another comeback when you detangle yourself from his grip and knee hoseok in the dick before giving him a good old sucker punch— watching with a satisfied glossy grin as he doubles over in pain.

“YN, you bitch!” he cries out in pain, and you’re about to swing again when jungkook lifts you by your hips— legs kicking and arms flailing just to get another taste. once you’re a fair distance away, your boyfriend sets you down as you shake out your hand— knuckles barley bruised from the punch and you know that your lover is impressed ( and maybe just a little more turned on ).

hoseok’s frat brothers help him clear up his bloody nose while girls fawn over the poor thing. you’re not surprised when hyeri gives you a disappointed look, punishing you with the task of cleaning the interior of the douche’s car whilst the sorority takes a lunch break. something about repaying him for almost breaking his nose. you don’t mind though, you were far too hungry for something else.

“that was hot,” jungkook mumbles against your neck after everyone’s gone, he’s got you pressed against the door of yoongi’s truck— thigh between your legs and lips barley touching your neck. you moan lowly, feeling your hips naturally grind down against the meat of your boyfriend’s thigh whilst slick gathers at your entrance.   the combat jeans he wears are a rough polyester, only adding to your stimulation but you’re beyond turned on at this point, not caring if anyone sees. not that they will, the car wash is closed while everyone’s on break, so you have time to kill. “the way you sucker punched him like that, god i don’t think my dick’s ever gotten that hard that fast...”

your laughter falls into an airy moan, as your fingers dance their way down from jungkook’s sweaty hair to push at his sweater. you wonder how he’s not burning in the thing with how thick it is, not to mention how black clothes attract heat but you don’t question it, only knowing one thing and one thing only. that you want it off. “don’t lie to me googie,” you whine when he pulls away to rid himself of the ghastly article of clothing— a different type of heat building in your core. “saw you watchin’ me wash hoseok’s car earlier, bet you were painfully hard just sitting there knowing you couldn’t touch me,” you breathe, enjoying the way he twitches in your grasp as you yank him up for a blazing kiss. his strawberry tongue swipes over your lips to taste the cherry they have painted on and the flavour bursts in your mouth as he forces your lips apart and tangles his tongue with yours. when he pulls away, only a trail of saliva connects you both, making you both groan in unison. “were you touching yourself, baby?” you ask breathlessly, forcing your head back against the cool surface of the truck.

“fuck, angel face...” jungkook hisses at your lewd words, hips stuttering when you grab his growing bulge through his jeans. “h-how’d you know?

“i just know you.”

your boyfriend presses his lips to yours once again, fingers diving down to pinch your clit over the panties of your bikini— making you squeal with pleasure. jungkook swallows each and every one of your noises, hands trailing up and down your body until the slide under your bralette where inked fingers pull at your nipples and squeeze at your breasts. the peaks harden under jungkook’s touch, which is surprisingly cool despite the weather and you arch your back into him— desperate for more.

“let me feel you,” he finally says, sounding just as desperate as you and you nod, letting jungkook drop your feet to the ground gently and shove his shirt into the front of yoongi’s freshly cleaned truck. the guitarist is about to open the door for you when an idea pops into your head. pulling jungkook’s arm, you point over to the piercing yellow ferrari on the other side of of the lot outside of your sorority’s house and his face falls. within an instant, the key’s of hoseok’s car are back in your hand (after an hour of cleaning it) and jungkook is lowering you onto it’s hood. “want me to fuck you here, dollface? for everyone to see?”

you nod your head, a series of incoherent babbles falling from between your lips as you stare up your boyfriend with a hazy look in your eye— a look that drives him wild. jungkook strips you of your bralette and takes a breast into his mouth, sucking and licking and biting like a man devouring his last meal. you have no choice but to take what he gives you, closing your eyes to the melody of wet, sloppy sounds as his warm tongue swirls around each bud— contrasting with the cold metal of hoseok’s car beneath you. his freehand tweaks your other nipple before dancing down to between your legs as he pushes your thighs further apart. wetness pours from your burning entrance, causing your panties to stick deliciously to your pussy and jungkook groans around your second breast ( having switched between the two ) before he slides his two fingers past the flimsy pink material to circle your dripping hole.

“please koo, finger me...fuck me!” you cry desperately, writhing against the expensive car that your pussy drools onto.    he groans, wasting no more time as he pushes his tattooed digits into your tight cunt, you whimper as he grinds his palm against your clit with every thrust of his fingers inside of you— dragging his finger tips against your needy walls as your eyes threaten to flutter shut from bliss.

your boyfriend tuts from your breast, standing straight to lean over you while more of your juices splatter lewdly against the hood of hoseok’s car. “nonono, angel, eyes open, want you to look at me as i stretch you open on this fucker’s car, yeah?” he pants, curling the fingers he has buried in your pussy so that they catch deliciously on that one spot. your bleary eyes focus on one thing and one thing only, your lover. the way that his lips shine under the sun with smears of your cherry lip gloss, and the way that his dark eyes shift to lighter shades of coffee brown in the sunlight— the way his strawberry lips are caught between his teeth as he pleasures you and your heart bursts with adoration. “that’s my good girl...” he mumbles, voice gravelly with need when he notices your open doe eyes.

with uncoordinated movements, you manage to tackle the buttons of jungkook’s pants, pulling his painfully hard cock free from its material confines. he practically whimpers when your burning palm comes into contact with his weighty length, his tip bright red and glistening with need. “feel good baby?” you ask him while doing your best to pump him in time with the thrusts of your fingers, creating the illusion of him being inside of you. jungkook leaks endless amounts of precum, eyes scrunching shut as he grows closer to his orgasm.

jungkook buries his mop of midnight hair into the crook of of your neck, kissing at the skin there. “d-didn’t finish earlier...” he stammers, thrusting his length into your grip. “if you don’t stop i’m gonna cum before being inside you...” he wastes no more time, pushing your pretty pink panties aside and slapping is leaking tip against your glistening pussy— teasing you both even though you’ve been craving each other all day. his strong, tattooed arms hook around your legs, bringing you closer to him as he finally pushes his cock past your entrance— you hiss in unison as his weighty length sits within you and you dig your heels into the small of his back to prompt him to move. “shit...angel, dreamed of this pussy all day...”

“then take it jungkook, take me like you mean it,” you almost scream, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him impossibly closer. your nails dig crescent moons into his blemished, freckled skin as he circles his hips and drills is cock into you, tip rubbing against your fiery walls while you clamp down on him. your cunt selfishly sucks him in as you find the strength within you to lift your hips and meet his thrusts— loving the way he feels and the burn of his fat cock stretching you open. the air between you seems heavier, hotter as the sun shines brightly above you— your perspiration clouding the glimmer on the hood of hoseok’s car as mix of your arousals smear across the honey yellow paint. you’re messy, dirty, tainting hoseok’s car as jungkook fucks into you with wanton— chasing the release that’s been building in his stomach all day.

you love it though, the way he wrecks your little hole out in broad daylight for everyone to see if they wanted— the sounds of his hips slamming against yours filling the empty lot in front of your sorority. anyone could come back now and see you taking his cock, and the thought makes your pussy gush with sweet, hot nectar. “your cunt is so greedy, swallowing my cock whole,” jungkook reminds you, pushing his cock into your womb until he reaches the hilt. “you must like me taking you in public huh?” he speaks your thoughts, moaning heavily as you squeeze around his length with every word, your juices wetting him more. jungkook presses down on your tummy and you watch with awe as it bulges slightly— his hips never easing up as he pushes himself impossibly deeper inside of you. “god angel face, would you look at that, look at me inside of you.”

“you’re so big,” you praise from underneath him, gasping as he grinds himself into you— harsh material of his jeans brushing against your sensitive clit. you play a game of back and forth, pushing your hips against each other with every turn until jungkook picks up the pace again, a knot in your stomach begins to form— your orgasm sneaking up behind you as your pussy weeps and cries, painting the front of jungkook’s jeans as well as your pretty thighs. “wanna cum on this thick cock of yours koo, make me cum please please...”

“you’re driving me insane dollface,” jungkook comments through gritted teeth, pounding into you now at a relentless pace— you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock against your walls, causing your jaw to go slack as you drip endlessly. he shuts your pleas up with the two fingers in your mouth letting you taste the remains of your essence. your boyfriend only manages a few more thrusts before you’re falling limp against him with new colours flashing behind your eyes as cream against his cock. jungkook rides out your high, hitting your g-spot over and over and almost reaches his climax when you hear someone’s footsteps against the gravel. eyes widening jungkook pulls your weak frame into his chest, using the discarded keys to open hoseok’s car door before bringing you inside. your heart thumps as you spot a sister from your sorority in the side mirrors, she seems to be looking for something but for now, you remain out of view.

with that in mind, you push yourself out of jungkook’s iron grip— knowing full well that he still hasn’t cum. ignoring your boyfriend’s nervous and confused expression along with the thumping in your chest, you drop to your knees, paying no mind to the burn the gravel causes against them. “YN, what are you—?” jungkook never finishes his question as you brace yourself on his thighs, giving sweet kitten licks to his tip before taking him into your mouth. you won’t need to do much work, he’s already close and you can tell from the way his abs clench and his fingers weave their way into your hair. your free hands pump what doesn’t fit into your hot mouth, as you drool on his cock and spit gathers on your chin.

your boyfriend whimpers quietly in the front passenger seat and you slap his inner thighs when the girl walks past. you spare a glance to the mirrors once more, swirling your tongue around your lover’s length as he strains to hold in his moans. he whispers ‘pleases’ under his breath, begging you to let him cum...so once the footsteps retreat and disappear completely, you tap his thigh once and jungkook immediately bucks his hips. your jaw falls lax as he thrusts into your mouth as if it were your tight heat, desperately chasing the release he’s been waiting for all day. “fuck, fuck, shit!” he curses as your throat tightens around his length, causing him to spill his seed into your mouth. you swallow gratefully, only pulling away to show him the mess he made of your tongue before letting him pull you onto his lap. “such a dirty girl, sucking me off like that with people around...”

“you loved it,” you tease, twirling his long hair between your fingers as he kisses down the valley between your breasts.

“would have loved to cum inside you, more.”

you straddle jungkook’s lap, letting his half hard cock brush against your soaked panties as you grind down on him. “then let me make you cum again; let me ride you.” you state more so than ask, taking his hands into yours and intertwining your fingers. jungkook looks up at you with bright starry eyes, and you lose yourself within their constellations— you loved him, you knew that and no one would change that. the mood slips into something softer and you’re no longer in a rush to ruin hoseok’s car, instead you take your time easing yourself down onto your love’s length as it hardens with each stroke of your hips.

neither of you will last long this time, sensitive from your previous releases but that doesn’t stop you from slowly lifting your hips and bringing them back down to start a steady pace. the length of jungkook’s weighty girth, drags along your velvet walls with each rock of his hips into yours, sending tingles of pleasure down your spend. he lets go of your right hand, using his large inked palm to grab at your waist, guiding you into him in away that makes him whine. he moves onto your ass, squeezing the peachy flesh as you bounce on him, launching you both into new realms of pleasure.

“love that ass baby, how good it looks in this little set,” jungkook whimpers against your sweat slicked skin, closing his eyes to tune into the sounds of your angelic moans and wetness against his dick. “always so pretty for me...”

you swivel your hips in soft circles, clamping down on your lover with each word of praise as he sucks blues and indigos and violets between your breasts, his mouth salivating from watching them bounce with every thrust into your tight heat. he worships you under the golden sun, heated bodies moving together as you both work towards release. “it’s all yours, koo,” you cry, biting your cherry lips— bitten red and swollen from kisses your lover used to soothe your cries of wanton. “i’m all yours.” you add before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and you’re pulling him by the hair to yank him into another sweet kiss, tasting traces of your gloss on his pinkish lips.

“mine.” jungkook claims your mouth as his, as you squeeze and clench and clamp around his girth, tears beginning to roll as your high approaches. the guitarist doesn’t up, letting you swallow his whines as the sensitivity grows too much, the tip of his length hitting that one spot over and over again while you push your hips down to meet his every thrust.

“look me in the eyes when you cum with me.” you growl to him, freeing your hands to cup his cheeks— lips tingling and cunt spasming. jungkook can barely nod but he obliges, deep brown eyes pulling you in as his warm breath fans across your face. you drown in his eyes, falling under as the knot in your stomach finally snaps— your hips falter as you cling to jungkook with all you have, release glazing his cock until he fills you with his creamy essence. your fingers massage his wet scalp while you bury your face into his neck, hearing him whimper and cry out as he fills you over and over again.

eventually, the sensitivity grows too much and jungkook pulls out of you with small moans, fingers finding your messy entrance as a mix of your arousals drips onto the leather seats. “i love you, angel face...so fucking much,” he finally says with glossy eyes and a tiny smile, dipping his finger into your leaking hole and smearing the evidence of your rendezvous against your lips.

“and i love you, more than anything.” you hum back, licking the sweet and salty sheen from your lips before mirroring your lovers smile because all though he’d rubbed of your cherry gloss, jungkook’s cum was the next best thing.

⇢ taglist !

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[hardcasey]

Sweet Tooth

Won't Fade into the Background - Part 2

Pairing: Toast x F!Reader

Summary: You are an owner of a bakery on Coruscant and end up running into a certain clone with a penchant for baked goods. 

Word Count: 7k (I got carried away lmao)

Rating/Warnings: T, Mostly fluff again, though it gets a little PG-13 at the end. Nothing too crazy tho.

A/N: Who’s more of a background clone than everyone’s fave boy Toast? I decided to give him the classic bakery au meet-cute that he deserves. <3 Not proofread so let me know if there are any glaring errors!

“You sure you don’t need any help cleaning up?” Your employee, Vella, called from the front of the shop. 

You poked your head out through the little window that separated the kitchen from the rest of the store. “I’m good, Vel. Go enjoy your Friday night.” 

“Alright, night boss,” The Twi’lek woman gave you a mock salute and laughed when she saw you roll your eyes before turning and heading out the door into the busy Coruscant streets. 

You turned back to your current task, taking inventory. It was not the most glamorous job, in fact it was your least favorite part about owning your own business, but it had to be done. With a sigh, you started counting, quickly losing yourself in the monotony. 

You were the proud owner of a small bakery on Coruscant. It was not the most lucrative job by far, but it had always been your dream to bake for a living, and you were proud to have achieved that goal so quickly. It had taken a lot of hard work to get to where you were now, along with quite a bit of luck. You had been finishing up your last year in culinary school when you walked by a place for rent right in the heart of the city. It had been right around when the war started, and the owner wanted to sell off the space as quickly as possible. You had the sneaking suspicion that he may have been involved with the Separatists and was trying to jump ship and flee the planet. Honestly, you didn’t really care what his deal was, only that he was giving you the place for a steal. Seppie or not, you were thankful for him. There was no other way you would have been able to afford a place in this part of the city otherwise. 

You had dropped a considerable portion of your savings into the purchase and renovation of the bakery, and there were times that you were subsisting off of nothing but cheap instant noodles, but everything had worked out in the end. The prime location meant there was a lot of foot traffic and it didn’t take long before you were turning a profit. And the quality of your pastries and baked goods earned you a loyal customer base, and you had many regulars that stopped in for a cup of caf and a little treat on their way to work. 

Once you finished up taking inventory, you headed out to the front to start cleaning up, stacking the chairs up on the tables so you could start sweeping. You were saving up for a droid that would sweep the floors for you, but you were still a ways off from that so you had to do it the old fashioned way. 

It was then that you noticed there was someone looking in through the window, clearly ogling the display of pastries and cakes that was there. The light from the setting sun pouring through the window cast their face in shadow, so you couldn’t tell who it was. 

Might as well invite them in, you thought to yourself as you leaned the broom against the wall. After all, the bakery wasn’t technically closed yet, though you almost never had customers at this time. 

You swung the door open and were about to say something to the figure when you saw them jump, clearly not realizing you were there. 

“Oh, hey, I’m sorry for scaring you! I just wanted to let you know that the bakery is still open if you want anything.” You said gently, holding your hands up in a placating manner. 

Now that you were outside, you could see the figure more clearly. They were a human male, with tan skin and warm brown eyes. He was wearing a grey uniform and his short dark hair was partly obscured by a matching grey hat. He seemed very familiar to you, and you were about to ask if you knew him, before it hit you. Duh! He was a clone. You weren’t used to seeing clones in anything other than their distinctive white armor, so it took a moment for your brain to put two and two together. 

“Oh, uh, I was just looking, ma’am! I’m very sorry.” He said quickly, the same way that a kid who had just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar would. He looked so sheepish, as if he was about to bolt any second. You weren’t sure why he was so apologetic, he was just looking through the window. A bunch of people did that. 

“No need to apologize, everyone looks through the windows.” You said, flashing him what you hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“I, uh, just wasn’t sure if you were gonna run me out or something,” he told you, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Not many businesses are open to clones, and I wasn’t sure. I’ve never seen any clones in your shop and I guess I just assumed.” 

Okay, that lowkey made your blood boil. Why would anyone discriminate against the clones? They were the ones putting their lives on the line to protect the Republic, for kriffs sake! You hadn’t interacted with many clones, but the ones you had run into were nothing but polite and respectful. 

“That’s terrible! We absolutely allow clones here! You know what, come inside. There are still some pastries leftover from today. I’ll put them in a box for you and you can bring them back to your, er, squad? Company? Your friends!” You finished breathlessly, a little embarrassed you knew so little about anything involving the military. 

“Are you sure? I-I don’t have any money to pay for them,” He said sadly, his eyes darting down to his shoes as if there was suddenly something fascinating about them. 

“Nonsense! They’ll be going bad soon anyway and will just end up in the trash. You’ll be doing me a favor, honestly.” Without allowing him to protest further, you grabbed his elbow and tugged him into your shop. In the back of your mind you registered how big his bicep felt, which surprised you. He looked fit, yes, but it wasn’t like he was some meathead. Maybe his uniform just did a good job of disguising how strong he was. You felt yourself blush once you realised the path your thoughts had veered down and quickly pushed them out of your mind. 

“It smells good in here,” he said to no one in particular as he dropped his harm and headed behind the counter to start filling a box with leftover pastries. 

You smiled at him, before you realised something. “Forgive my manners, but I didn’t catch your name.” 

“CT-1928, ma’am.” He replied, his back straightening ever so slightly as he did, as if the action was ingrained in him.

“Do you have a nickname? I know a lot of clones go by them instead of their number.” You said delicately. You didn’t want to offend him by asking, but it felt so strange, so dehumanizing, to call him by a number. 

“Oh, uh, my brothers call me Toast.” He said, once again sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not the greatest nickname, but it’s the one that stuck.” 

“Haha, I think it’s cute. And don’t worry, my parents used to call me Possum when I was little, because I used to climb around and get into the trash. It was cute until they said it in front of my friends, then they started calling me that too.” 

He laughed at that, his shoulders relaxing, his posture not so stiff. “My brothers started calling me Toast because the first time they served toast in the cafeteria after I got my assignment, I ate so many pieces I made myself sick.” 

“Pfft. That’s amazing,” You laughed as you shuffled things around so you could fit one last croissant inside. You got the sense the clones didn’t often get to have sweets, so you were going to make sure Toast could bring as many back as possible. “So are you here on shore leave?” 

“I’m actually a member of the Coruscant Guard. So I’m here often. Well all the time. I walk by this place every time they send me off to run errands, which is often since I’m still the new guy.” 

“Oh, that’s cool. That means you work with senators, right? That must be… something.” You’d read stories on the holonet about some of the more notorious senators and you doubted they treated the clones particularly well. 

“I haven’t personally worked with any members of the senate, though a lot of my brothers have. Most of my day is spent staring at security cameras. So, pretty boring. Though I’m not complaining.” 

You tied up the package with a neat little bow before handing it to him, another bright smile flashing across your face. Something about his earnest, open demeanor was very endearing to you and you secretly hoped you’d get to see him again soon. If not anything else, you could at least learn a little more about the clones that dedicated their lives to protecting the Republic, since your knowledge on the subject was apparently so lacking. 

“Well it’s good to hear that you’re local. Hopefully you can stop by again the next time you’re running errands. And feel free to invite your brothers too!” 

“T-thank you, ma’am. That is very kind of you.” He said before taking the box of pastries in his hand, holding it almost reverently. He was trying to hide it but you could tell he was very excited to eat some sweets later. 

With one last nod he headed out of the store, the bell chiming lightly after him. You stood there, simply watching his receding form blend into the crowd, catching yourself smiling at the prospect of seeing him again. 

~~~

Toast hadn’t made it three steps into the barracks before his vode were descending upon him. Well not really him as much as the box full of sugary confections in his hands. 

“What ya got there?” Jek inquired, already tugging at the ribbon to investigate the box’s contents. 

Toast shoved his greedy hands out of the way and marched over to the counter where they kept the caf machine, which was in a perpetual state of disarray. The caf machine was old, probably older than any of them, and saw high traffic 24/7. Honestly, with the amount it leaked and sputtered, it was a miracle the machine was still functioning. Toast hoped it would at least until the war was over because when it went, Fox would be in the grave right next to it. 

“You know that bakery on the way back from the Jedi temple?” Toast inquired as he placed the box on the counter, starting to pick at the knot so he could open it without cutting the ribbon. It was a pretty striped pastel pink and he wanted to keep it. 

“The one with the little tooka-shaped cookies?” Rhys’ eyes went wide with excitement. 

“Yeah, the lady who worked there saw me looking inside and then gave me all the leftover pastries from the window.” 

“For free!?” Jek exclaimed as he shuffled back towards the box, “What did you get? Did you get an eclair? Please tell me you got an eclair.” Toast nodded and handed his brother one, who promptly dug in. 

“What’s this about eclairs?” Stone rounded the corner, instantly noticing the box and saddling up to him. “Did you get sweets?” 

Toast spent the next few minutes divvying up the various pastries between everyone. He chose something made up of many thin layers of dough, filled with chopped nuts and soaked in honey. Baklava, he thinks it was called, or maybe balaclava? He didn’t know the difference. But he didn’t care as he devoured it, savoring each bite like it was something precious. He glanced around and saw all his brothers were experiencing similar states of bliss, if their expressions were anything to go by. 

~~~

He didn’t have a chance to visit the bakery for the next two weeks, too busy running around dealing with mess after mess. One day, a prison riot. The next, bomb threats at the senate. Everyone in the guard was so exhausted and in desperate need of a break. So when Hound mentioned he was taking Grizzer for a walk, Toast decided to tag along so that he could get some fresh air. Well, fresh for Coruscant. 

At some point they’d run into Rhys and Thire, on the way back from patrol duty. Neither of them were in a rush to get back to HQ to receive new marching orders, so they ended up tagging along. 

Their little group wandered the streets, just walking with no direction in mind. Grizzer had his snout pressed close to the ground, desperate to sniff everything. Toast smiled at the massiff’s antics from behind his bucket, before glancing around and realizing they were just a block away from the bakery. 

“Hey, guys. Wanna stop at that bakery? It’s just over there.” Toast asked, pointing his finger at the little awning in front of the shop.

Thire looked at him as if he had two heads. “Why? Do you think we’ll get handouts again? Not that I’m complaining, free is free, but didn’t you get those because it was the end of the day and she was planning on throwing them out? It’s the middle of the day now…”

“Well, she said I could come back whenever. And that I could bring you guys too.” Toast felt his cheeks heat up for some reason, suddenly feeling embarrassed. What if she was just being polite, and he wasn’t really supposed to come back? What if he brought too many of his brothers and she thought he was taking advantage of her generosity? 

He was just about to suggest they should move on when Rhys piped up. “Well, what are we waiting for? C’mon.” He was already halfway to the bakery before anyone could respond. Rhys had a major sweet tooth and nothing motivated him more than some sweets. Hound and Grizzer were right on his heels, having missed out on the pastries last time. 

Toast caught up to them quickly, with Thire right behind them, though they all froze as soon as they made it up to the doors. There were people inside this, lounging around sipping drinks and chatting. Could they go in? Would people get mad? 

All his vode were waiting for him to do something, and his eyes searched frantically around the storefront as if he would find an answer there. And, surprisingly, he did. Sort of. Because hanging right in the window was a sign that read ‘CLONES WELCOME’. You had to have hung it after your interaction, there was no other explanation. Something about that made his heart race. 

All of a sudden, you appeared in the window, a friendly grin on your face as you pointed at the sign and waved for them all to come in. 

“You didn’t tell us she was pretty, vod,” Thire whispered as they shuffled their way inside. Toast could just feel the shit eating grin from under his brother’s bucket. He just gave a noncommittal grunt as a response, which only made Thire laugh. 

The group of them stood awkwardly in the threshold of the store, not really knowing what to do with themselves. A few patrons looked over to see what was going on, and Toast braced for some sort of outrage at clones invading their space, but after a few seconds they all turned back to whatever they were doing before. 

Toast stood there dumbly, just staring at you. He hadn’t really been able to take a good look at you the last time, too distracted by how strange the whole situation had been. But now he could see that Thire was right. You are pretty. Very pretty. 

If you noticed how tongue-tied he was, you didn’t show it. You just greeted them with another smile and oh Maker that smile. It was the kind of smile that lit up your whole face and Toast wanted to see it every day for the rest of his life.

“Hi! Is this your first time here?” You asked, cocking your head to one side. 

“He’s been here before.” Hound answered, shoving Toast to the front of the group. 

“Oh, are you the one from a few weeks ago? Toast?” 

You remembered his name! He was pretty sure he was about to melt into a puddle right then and there. It took a second to realize that he hadn't answered yet and he quickly sputtered out, “Y-yeah. That’s me.” 

“I’m glad you came back! And you brought your brothers,” You turned to address the rest of the clones and offered out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you all, what are your names.” 

Hound, always the people person and the one most used to interacting with the public, stepped forward and shook your hand. “I’m Hound. That’s Thire and Jek. It’s nice to meet you ma’am, I’ve heard you’re a great baker, though I wouldn’t know first-hand.” 

You cocked an eyebrow at Toast, “You didn’t share?” 

“He was out on patrol, I swear!” Toast stammered, holding his hands up in front of him. 

“Hmmm, I guess I’ll take your word for it. Though I think he should get to pick out what he wants first. It’s only fair.” 

“Really?!” Hound exclaimed. His enthusiasm seemed to rub off on Grizzer, the massiff sitting up on his back legs and wiggling excitedly before letting out a happy bark. “Down boy,” Hound ordered, placing a hand on Grizzer’s hand to calm him down. 

‘Awe, he’s just excited,” you giggled as you bent down to give him some pats of your own. “Can he eat treats? I have some by the door that I give to some of the other dogs.” You asked Hound as you straightened back up. 

“Yes, he loves treats. Would you mind if I took them to go? I don’t want him spoiling his dinner.” 

“Of course! Now pick out what you all want. And you can put a box together to take to your brothers.” 

You spent the next twenty minutes helping them pick out pastries, answering questions so they could pick out something for each of their brothers. After they had made their selections, you sat with them at one of the tables and chatted. Well, you mostly asked questions and they all talked over each other in their excitement. Still, you enjoyed the time with them, happy to provide a place for them to relax and unwind. Their jobs seemed incredibly stressful and by reading in between the lines of some of the things they told you, they seemed to be mistreated by a good portion of the senators, made to run menial errands or be the punching bags senators took their frustrations out on. You could especially see it in Toast, in the way he was so scared of offending you, how he would avert his eyes all the time and flinch if someone spoke too loudly. It honestly made you want to burn down the senate building. 

Everyone had finished eating when Thire looked down at his wrist and exclaimed, “Oh kriff, it’s been over an hour! Fox is gonna kill us.” 

Toast scoffed. “Correction: Fox is going to kill you and Rhys. Hound and I are off right now.” 

“Bring him an extra tiramisu to smooth things over.” You said, already wrapping one up and adding it to the rest of their haul. 

The group scrambled around, putting their buckets back on and grabbing the various pastry boxes you’d filled for them. Toast paused before turning to you. “Um, we don’t have any credits on us right now, but I can bring some tomorrow. The Guard has a small discretionary fund we can-”

You stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

“A-are you sure? That was a lot of food…” Toast didn’t want her to lose money because of him. After all, he was the one that brought his brothers here. 

“It’s okay, seriously. I actually started a little program where customers can buy a coffee or a pastry or whatever for a clone. There’s actually a little bucket next to the register that I set up,” you turned and pointed at it so he could see. “It was actually my employee Vella’s idea. She came up with it the day after we first met, and it’s been pretty popular. There are a lot of people out there who are really thankful for what you guys do, you know.” 

Toast didn’t know what to say, but he felt like he wanted to cry at such a nice gesture. “That is… really kind of you. Thanks.” It didn’t feel like nearly enough, but they were the only words Toast could form at the moment. 

“Of course,” you said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze. “Now go catch up with your brothers, and let the rest of them know they’re always welcome to a free drink or pastry here.” 

Toast thanked you once again before heading outside to where his brothers were waiting, trying to convince himself that your hand hadn’t lingered on his arm for a beat too long. No, it was just wishful thinking. 

As he and his vode made their way back to the barracks, Rhys threw an arm around his neck and said, “Wow, Toast, your girlfriend is the best!” earning him snickers from the rest of the group. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Toast tried to protest. 

“But you want her to be~” Hound teased. And he was right, Toast wanted that more than anything in the galaxy right now. But he knew it was impossible. You were beautiful and kind and funny and perfect and he... was just a clone. 

“It’s not like it could ever happen anyway,” Toast sighed. 

Thire nudged him with his shoulder. “Psssh, we all saw how her hand lingered on you. She definitely likes you.” 

“Definitely,” Rhys echoed. 

Toast smiled under his bucket. It might be a pipe dream, but in that moment he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy. 

~~~

In the following weeks, you fell into a sort of routine. Toast would stop by your bakery at least once a week, sometimes more depending on his free time. And you cherished every moment you got to spend with him. Sometimes he would bring fellow members of the guard along, and every visit ended with your stomach cramping from how much you’d laughed at their various antics. You were confused how such a chaotic bunch of individuals were able to come together as an effective police force… that is until you met Commander Fox. His talent for wrangling them deserved a medal in your opinion. 

As much as you enjoyed his brothers, you really looked forward to the times where you and Toast were alone together. He’d always come to you with some wild story of an eccentric prisoner or a crazy heist perpetrated in the lower levels. Honestly you hadn’t expected him to be such a gossip, but you were hardly complaining. 

In return for his stories you started teaching him how to bake. It started off with him just watching you work as he talked, sometimes asking questions about what you were doing or peaking over your shoulder to get a closer look. Eventually he became an assistant of sorts, spending his time grabbing ingredients for you and washing the dishes once you were done with them. 

Today was the day you were going to convince him to bake a loaf of bread with you. You were going to start him off with a simple loaf of white bread, one that didn’t require much kneading and didn’t have a long proving time. You had already pulled out all the ingredients, bowls, and utensils and were waiting patiently for him to arrive. 

By the time you heard the bell ring and saw him coming through the door, you were tapping your foot in anticipation. He wasn’t late - in fact he was right on time as always - but you were just itching to see him. 

“Toast! You’re here!” Ugh, that was the best greeting you could come up with? you cringed internally. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind your banal greeting, a smile on his lips as he pulled his bucket over his head and placed it on a nearby shelf. You found yourself longing for a reality where he greeted you with a peck on the lips along with that sweet smile. Maker, you had it bad for him. 

His eyes flashed over to the ingredients on the counter. “What are you making today?”

“I’m not making anything today. But we are. I think it's time for you to try your hand at baking. And in honor of your love of toast, we’re starting off with bread.” 

He rolled his eyes at that, but the corner of his mouth still quirked up, showing off one of his dimples. “Isn’t bread kind of hard to make though? Maybe we should start out with something simpler…” 

“Where’s your courage, soldier?” you teased, poking a finger at his chest. He huffed and you laughed. “Now c’mon, wash your hands and get your apron on.” 

He ended up taking the top half of his armor off, in only his blacks from the waist up, his sleeve rolled up to his elbows. You were half thankful and half disappointed the apron covered the way his form fitting shirt stretched across his chest. At least you wouldn’t be distracted, but boy oh boy did you want a closer look. 

The two of you chatted about your days as you started working on each of your loaves. With so few ingredients the process went quick, and soon enough you were kneading the dough. 

“Now this is called the slap and fold technique. First get your dough together in a ball like this… and then you slap it down!” You demonstrated by taking your lump of wet dough and slapping it down on the table. “Then you just fold it in half and repeat. We need to do it for about five minutes.” 

“I think you mean we knead to do it for five minutes,” Toast said with a cheeky grin.

“Blegh. Terrible.” You flicked a bit of flour at him as punishment. “I think you knead to be locked up for that pun.” Toast just laughed and continued working, the smile on his face never dropping. 

Once you were ready, you shaped both of the loaves and put them in the oven. When you turned back to him you couldn’t help but giggle. He was absolutely covered in flour. 

“What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked, face suddenly becoming serious. 

You stepped close to him and brushed his face clean with your thumb. “On your face, in your hair, on your shirt. I think you managed to get flour everywhere except the apron.”

“Well you were the one throwing it at me!” came his retort as he used his hands to shake his hair out, turning it from  grey back to its lovely dark color. 

“Touché. Now let me help you get cleaned up. I think you got some on your back. Somehow.” You grabbed a washcloth and wet it under the sink and started using it to wipe the flour off his clothes.  

“It’s one of my many skills from cadet training.” He told you, eyes twinkling, as you dabbed at a spot you missed on his face. You could feel his lips moving as he spoke. Stop thinking about how soft they probably are, you chided yourself. 

“You’re just lucky you’re so charming.” 

That made him blush and avert his eyes, which would have been cute if you weren’t worried you’d gone a bit too far. You didn’t want to embarrass him or anything. You had thought the two of you were flirting, but maybe you read the situation wrong. You were notoriously bad in the romance department, something Vella had told you after the third time you had missed a customer trying to flirt with you. 

Toast cleared his throat before turning back to you. He noticed you’d stepped back away from him and sighed internally. That would have been the perfect time to kiss you or ask you out or something. Anything other than dancing around each other like you two were doing now. Despite the fact that his brothers believed you two were already together - no matter how much he protested - he still wasn’t sure if you felt the same as he did. He had his suspicions, but what if he was wrong? You were his only friend outside of his brothers and he didn’t want to do anything to mess that up or make it awkward. 

He thanked the Maker you didn’t tease him, just turning and starting to wash the dishes. He grabbed a bowl and joined you at the big industrial sink, dunking his hands in the warm sudsy mixture and used the sponge to start scrubbing at the stubborn bits of dough that refused to come off. The two of you worked in silence, though not an uncomfortable one, Toast was glad to find. Just as he was finishing drying the last bowl, he remembered something. 

“Oh, uh, I almost forgot. Do you know Senator Amidala?” 

“Not personally, but I’ve heard of her.”

“Well, she is throwing a banquet or something in a few days and the bakery that was supposed to handle the desserts fell through at the last minute. Thorn suggested you as a replacement and asked me to ask you if it was possible.” 

“Hmm. It depends on how long I’d have, and what kind of desserts she wants. Plus how many guests she’s having. I’m not saying no, but I’m not sure how realistic it is. It’s just me, Vella, and two others on staff.” You had started pacing, already running the logistics through your head.

“What if me and the rest of the guard helped you?” 

You paused your pacing to look at him. “That could work… but would you all even be able to take off work?”

“Well, it’s been pretty slow this week and we’re spending most of our time getting ready for the party…” You responded with a noncommittal hum so he pressed on. “How about I call Senator Amidala and Commander Fox on the coms and we can get everything worked out?”

“Yeah, sure. That’d be great.” 

For the next twenty minutes you hashed out the details with Senator Amidala - Padmé, she insisted you call her - and Commander Fox. Eventually you settled on an order of one large, four-tiered cake and a hundred little fruit tarts. Fox had been hesitant to lend out his troopers until Padmé had offered to replace the old coffee machine in the guard’s office. The party was in three days, so it would be a tight deadline, but you were sure you could do it. Especially with the guard’s help. There was also the motivating factor of the hefty payment Padmé was offering. It would be enough for you to buy an army of cleaning robots!

As soon as you hung up you were already placing an order of the ingredients and messaging your employees to tell them about the job. You were so focused on your task that you jumped with the oven’s timer dinged. Toast stifled a chuckle behind his hand and you shot him a look as you pulled both loaves of bread out of the oven. Both loaves were a perfect golden brown and looked absolutely delicious. 

Toast hovered over your shoulder as you placed the bread on the cooling rack, and you had to slap his hand away a few times as you waited for them to cool. Once you could hold them safely in your hands, you handed Toast his loaf and took yours in your hands. “C’mon, let’s take a picture together with our bread.” You tucked yourself into his side and held your loaf up as he snapped the picture. 

Once you were satisfied with the picture you relented to his puppy-dog eyes and cut into the bread. You both slathered a piece in butter and tapped them together as if they were wine glasses before taking a bite. 

“Mmmmmhhh,” you both groaned in unison at the first bite of warm bread. There was nothing better. 

“This is so good.” You mumbled in between bites. 

“So much better than anything in the caf.” Toast agreed, his eyes half-closed in bliss. Before you missed it, you snapped a picture. Toast with his toast. It was perfect. 

~~~

You stared at the sight of the twenty clone troopers in front of you, decked out in aprons and hair nets, standing at parade rest in a line as Commander Fox, also in an apron, paced back and forth, hands behind his back, as he gave them their orders. 

“Now I want you all on your best behavior. It may seem like you’re on a break, but I want you to treat this as if you’re still on the clock,” He stopped pacing and turned to his men, “Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes, sir!” They all responded with a salute. 

You took that moment to snap a picture of them all, Fox’s head snapping towards you at the click of the camera. “I want to remember this,” you told him, fighting back a smile. 

You turned to Padmé, who had insisted on coming to help out herself, bringing along her two droids and a Jedi to offer some extra hands. She came complete with a chic outfit for the occasion and you envied how good she looked at six in the morning. You showed her the picture and she asked, “Can you send that to me?” Fox huffed loudly and the two of you broke out into a fit of giggles. 

Once you got a hold of yourself you started listing out tasks that needed to be done to Fox. “We’ll need people to clean and cut the fruit for the tarts. Another group can help with mixing and cutting the crust. For the cake, we’ll also need one group handling the batter, and another the frosting and decorations. And we can rotate who is on dish duty.” 

Fox immediately started delegating out tasks to his troops and you assigned a member of your staff to help each group. Everyone quickly scrambled to start working on their tasks, the troopers clearly very excited to help. 

Throughout the day you flitted from group to group, demonstrating how to do things when needed. Your employees were handling everything so well and you made a reminder to yourself to give them a nice bonus after this. You stepped away from where Vella was showing the boys how to make flowers out of frosting and found Toast lecturing his brothers about the right way to measure flour. 

“You can’t just scoop it out straight from the bag, you’ll use too much that way. You have to sift it in like this,” He started demonstrating the proper technique for them, and you noticed he had somehow managed to get flour all over himself again. 

“Good job, Toast,” You said as you passed him, brushing the flour out of his hair as you went. “Keep up the great work, boys!” You gave them a thumbs up and moved onto the next group, dodging the R2 unit as it made a beeline to the fridge, a tray of freshly cut fruit balanced on its head. 

The next two days passed by smoother than you could have hoped. There were only a few minor incidents. Hound tripping over R2 and spilling some batter, Thorn having to scold Jek and Rhys for eating half of their frosting. Nothing you couldn't handle. Commander Fox had everyone working like a well oiled machine, making sure everything stayed on time. Throughout both days, Padmé’s protocol droid busied himself with taking pictures of the event, and Padmé promised to send them all to you after the party.

It got down to the wire, but you managed to put the last slice of jogan fruit on the hundredth tart with forty-five minutes to spare. Your employees handled loading everything up into the speeder to take them to the venue. You watched them out of the corner of your eye to make sure things went smoothly. Padmé came up to you and thanked you profusely for rushing such a huge order and promised to promote your business to all her friends before she and the rest of her entourage hopped into the speeder with your employees and took off for the party. 

You turned back to the clone troopers, who had already finished washing up most of the kitchen. “Don’t worry about the rest, guys, I’ve got it. You should probably start heading back and start getting ready.” 

“Trying to kick us out so soon?” Fox mused. 

You laughed. “Actually, before you go, I have a little surprise for you all. As a way to say thank you and as a pick me up before the party. I know those things can be tiring.” You went and retrieved the gift you had stayed up all last night working on, keeping it behind your back until you were right in front of them. 

You held out a plate of cookies shaped like their helmets, each one customized to look like the helmet of each of the troopers there. You had recruited C3-PO to take reference pictures of all of their helmets while they were working, and the droid had really pulled through for you, even managing to get detail shots for you. 

“Woah, are these our helmets?” Stone asked as you handed him his cookie. 

“Look, it’s me.” Thorn said to Fox as he waggled his cookie in front of his brother’s face. Fox rolled his eyes but even he couldn’t fight his smile away. 

You beamed as each of the troopers examined their cookies and thanked you for them. They all groaned as you forced them to get together for one last picture and the shutter had barely flashed before they were scarfing down the cookies. 

Once they were done, Fox and Thorn started hoarding the group through the door. Before Toast could follow his brothers, Fox turned to him, “You stay here and help out with the rest of the clean up.” 

Toast blinked for a moment before he responded with a “Yes, sir.” 

He waited until he was sure the last of his vode were out the door before he turned to you. He planned on saying something funny or romantic, but all his words failed him as you launched yourself at him and pulled him into a big hug. “Thanks for all your help. I couldn’t have done this without you.” You told him, your voice muffled from your spot pressed against his chest. He returned the hug and rested his cheek against the top of your head. 

You couldn’t be sure if it was him who tilted his head down or you who tilted your head up, but you soon found yourselves nose to nose. Maybe sleep deprivation lowered your inhibitions, because you soon found yourself raising up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his. His arms tightened around you as he returned the kiss, letting out a groan as you both melted into each other. It started off sweet and gentle, but quickly developed into something more heated as you swept your tongue across the seam of his lips. He let out another tortured whine as he opened his mouth up to you, pulling you flush against him with one hand falling down to grab your ass while the other hitched your leg over his hip. 

Eventually you needed to come up for air and reluctantly parted from him, a blush rising to your cheeks as the string of saliva that connected you broke and dribbled down your chin. He wiped it away with his thumb before bringing his forehead to rest against yours. The two of you stayed like that for a while, gazing into each other's eyes as you caught your breath. 

You brought up one of your hands to brush a bit of flour out of his eyebrow. “You managed to get flour on you somehow. I don’t think we even used flour today.” 

He grinned at you. “It’s one of my many charms.” 

You giggled and pulled him back in for another kiss. Your lips had just met when you heard a camera shutter go off and you both whipped your heads around to the source of the noise. 

Vella stood in the doorway to the kitchen, camera raised and a shit-eating grin on her face. “Haha, I knew it! Thire owes me ten credits!” 

Both of you blinked at each other for a moment before joining in with her laughter.

[shslrose]

Do you write smut? If so, could you possibly do a Nagito x female!reader. Kinda just obsessive on Nagito’s part, maybe border-line non-con. If this is too much you don’t need to do it!! <3

Ultimate Cheerleader!Reader x Yandere!Komaeda ( nsfw / smut / lemon )

You are the Ultimate Cheerleader. You’re known for your positive and peppy attitude that can lead any team to victory. As such, you’ve grown close with the other students in your class, cheering them on at every opportunity. 

Nagito was obsessed from the very moment he laid eyes on you. He knew immediately that you were special, he could feel the hope radiating off of you. To this very day, he still fondly remembers the first day you met.

You were dressed in your usual cheer uniform; the tight crop top and mini skirt leaving little to the imagination.

He was walking around with Hajime, introducing him to everyone.

“Ah, hi there!” You called out cheerfully, a bright smile on your face.

“Hello,” Nagito said, observing your every move. “I’m Nagito Komaeda, the Ultimate Lucky Student.”

Hajime stared blankly at you for a moment, distracted by your beauty until Nagito gave him a small shove. “Ah, s-sorry, I’m Hajime Hinata… and I can’t remember my Ultimate Talent.”

“That’s okay!” You said with an encouraging smile. “I’m Y/N L/N, the Ultimate Cheerleader! Don’t worry about your talent, Hajime! You’ll remember soon enough, so don’t give up hope.”

Hope.

That one word, hope.

Was it possible?

Did you believe in the power of hope as well, Nagito wondered. Unbeknownst to you, his obsession with you began that day. 

After watching you spread hope to your classmates day after day throughout the killing school trip, he was certain that he was completely in love with you. That’s why he stole Mahiru’s camera after she died, he just had to have pictures of you. He spent almost every moment following you, although you never noticed him watching. He supposed he had his luck to thank for that; every time he was almost caught, you would get distracted by something else. 

Still, recently you had noticed all the strange things going on around you. Nagito was one of the few people you trusted on the island, even though you thought he could be a bit odd at times. He always defended you in class trials, as somehow he always knew your alibi. You often tried to cheer him up, but his self-deprecating attitude was usually too difficult to combat, even for the Ultimate Cheerleader. Still, you had grown relatively close, and so when you confessed to him that you felt like you might be in danger, he immediately offered for you to stay with him, in his room.

You were a bit taken aback at first, but you eventually agreed to his offer. That night, you went to his room instead of your own. 

He insisted on sleeping on the floor, despite your protests:

“This is ridiculous, Nagito-” 

“Y/N, trash like me doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as an incredible Ultimate like you, let alone sleep in the same bed!” 

After you realised the conversation was simply going in circles, you gave up, and decided to go take a shower. By pure coincidence, or perhaps it was the influence of Nagito’s Ultimate Luck, you happened to leave the door slightly ajar. He noticed immediately, of course, but said nothing. He watched from afar as you undressed yourself. The sight of your naked body was more beautiful than he could have imagined. He could feel himself growing hard, and a feeling of shame quickly ran over him. How dare scum like him lust over an elite Ultimate like you, he scolded himself. But it was too late, the damage was already done. You were in the shower now, and he could see the water flowing over your body. Ignoring all rational thought, he began palming himself through his pants as he watched you.

Within a few minutes, you left the shower and began to dry yourself with a towel. Without a second thought, he stood up and walked into the bathroom. 

“AH! N-N-Nagito?!” You shouted, quickly covering your breasts with your towel. “G-Get out!”

“I need you, Y/N.”

“W-what…?” Your panic slowly faded into confusion. “Nagito, I’m naked! You..you need to get out-”

Before you had the chance to finish your sentence, you suddenly felt yourself pushed against the wall. Nagito’s body was flush against yours. 

“N-Nagito…? Please, stop this…!”

“Even now, you’re so hopeful…” he murmured in your ear, before grinding against you. “Ah, do you feel that, Y/N? Do you feel what you did to me…?”

Tears welled in your eyes now, and you let out a whimper. “Please..”

He ripped the towel off your body. You were fully exposed in front of him now, still pinned against the wall, with nowhere to run. You could feel his erection pressed against you.

“Please?” He repeated back, a teasing smile on his lips. “Please, what?”

“Please don’t…!” 

“Don’t what?” He asked again, before placing his hand in between your thighs. “Don’t… do this?” 

He slipped a finger inside of you. Just as he thought, you were soaking wet. You couldn’t help it, Nagito was, despite his crazed nature, incredibly attractive. You let out a gasp as he began to finger you, which put a smile on his face. 

‘“Ah, Nagito…!” You cried out. The sound of you moaning his name was music to his ears. He had hoped for this since the moment he laid eyes on you. 

He continued pumping his finger in and out of you, with the mere sounds of your moans already pushing him close to the edge. He wanted nothing more than to pleasure you endlessly. He watched you bit your lip as he pushed another finger inside of you.

“Nagito!” You couldn’t help but cry out his name again and again. “Nngh..! Yes…!”

With one last moan, you reached your high, but Nagito didn’t stop. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you begged for him to stop.

“Ah..! Nagito, please…!” You begged. Hearing your protest, he pulled both fingers out of you.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N… of course trash like me would get carried away so easily-”

You cut him off with a kiss. Surprised, a bright red blush spread across his face when you eventually pulled away.

“Nagito… that felt so good...now, let me return the favor~”

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Steve Rogers, The Man On Fire

Hey y'all, as Pride month draws to a close I would like to post this fic. It's been in my drafts for a month and I finally today found the motivation to finish it. This is special to me for many reasons, one of which being that I'm proudly a part of this community. Some of the anger written in is my own. I think a lot of people will resonate with it. I really hope you all enjoy this and happy Pride Month <3

This was based loosely off a headcannon and once I re-find it I will credit!

Synopsis: Steve is freshly thawed, queer, and pissed | A.k.a. Steve's experience in 21st Century America

Characters: Steve Rogers, Mentions of Bucky Barnes, (loosely a Stucky fic but Steve thinks he's dead here)

Warnings: Angst but not bad, Steve Rogers being volatile and chaotic (we love), poorly written accents (I literally read this with an accent in my head), literally a 2k monologue

Word count: 5.1k

Steve Rogers came out of the ice angry.

No— not angry— Steve Rogers came out of the ice fuckin’ furious.

He came out of the ice with his hands curled into two fists, with his jaw clenched so hard his teeth were liable to snap, and with a bone to pick with every damn reporter and historian and too loud opinion on this side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

He came out simmering— no, erupting— like the serum in his blood couldn’t keep his body from hibernation all those years ago but it sure as hell won’t keep him from setting the entirety of New York on fire now. He’ll burn it all down if he has to and rebuild it the way he remembers it— the way Bucky would have remembered it— and at the end of it all no one— not the bigots or deniers or the homophobes that seem to be the only thing that came with him from the forties— will be able to say that Captain America can’t love whoever he wants.

No one will be able to say that Steve Rogers didn’t love James “Bucky” “the man I’ve loved since twelve years old” Barnes with everything he had and then some.

No one.

So he starts with the museums in Washington— because sure it isn’t New York but where else would a relic like himself belong more?

He still has hope when he enters the building. They didn’t make them like this when he was a kid— they had science fairs in the town hall and culture fairs in the backstreets near the docks but never anything this grand. No tall marble pillars or enough stairs to make him wonder if he would have been able to climb to the top when he was half the size he is now. It’s strange. It’s kind of wonderful. Yeah, the Smithsonian museums make Steve Rogers feel small for the first time in a very long time and that gives him hope.

That hope doesn’t last long, though, because soon he’s wandering through the halls, following the signs that say Captain America: The First Avenger— what the hell is an Avenger? Is that what they’re calling soldiers these days? Now he feels small and old.

Turning the corner is like landing on another planet, one devoted entirely to him. His picture is everywhere he looks, his name is in lights, even his damn uniform has been replicated and presented on a little stage and he hates it. The rage is back, sparking at his fingers— he’s a match and lucky for everyone this building is made of stone because if it wasn’t he’s sure it would be reduced to nothing but ash by now.

It only worsens as he begins reading through the plaques and the paragraphs flashing across screens on the walls— he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. The more he reads, though, the more he wonders if the stone is really, truly safe from the fire in his blood. He doesn’t think it is.

He surely isn’t at least— he feels like he’s going to explode. This isn’t him— none of this is him. War hero. Martyr. Golden boy. He has to stop reading that plaque— clearly no one did their research. Clearly no one dug up his medical files— or his police records. Brawls at the pub, disorderly conduct behind Mr. De Luca’s sandwich shop, public nudity at the beach that one time— thank you Bucky for the best night of his god damn life. Golden boy— ha.

Golden nobody with the black eye and broken hand is more like it.

For a moment he thinks he’s fine— he thinks it can’t get worse than this. Then he gets to the early life section and for an even longer moment his tongue tastes like gunpowder.

Steven Grant Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his friend James Buchanan Barnes—

He can’t bring himself to finish the sentence— not when they already got the most important part wrong. Friend. Friend? No, no, no. No! There are a million words in the english language that Steve could use to describe Bucky and ‘friend’ will never be the first one.

How about best friend?

How about partner in crime?

How about soulmate who loved Steve so much that every night for the past forty-eight days since he woke up in an era that Bucky doesn’t exist in he’s cried himself to sleep with the same cherry cola taste of his ‘friend’ on his tongue.

It’s the final straw— Steve loses it.

“Anyone got a marker?”

The museum is quiet before he speaks but when his voice— steadily rising and taking on that New York headiness that his troops used to jazz him about— cuts through the exhibit— his fuckin’ exhibit— it’s silent. It’s dead, almost as dead as Buck— Nobody dares move a muscle as he rips his ball cap off his head and throws it at the statue of himself. Everyone knows who he is— everyone is going to know who he is so help him god.

“I said—” he tries again— “does anyone have a marker?”

It takes a moment for the people around him to pick their jaws up off the floor and he allows them that moment with a smug grin starting to tug on the corners of his lips. Finally— they’re starting to get it.

He’s not a hero; he’s a supernova of every scrawny, queer kid who’s ever gotten beaten to a pulp for kissing who they want.

Maybe then it’s fitting that the marker— when it’s finally produced and placed in his waiting palm— comes from a teenage girl with a shaved head and a blue, pink, and purple denim jacket and a busted lip. She doesn’t say much— only a mumbled here you go— but her eyes say everything that her words don’t. Give em’ hell, Cap. For the first time since waking up he flashes a genuine grin back— yeah, this one’s for you kid.

Steve wastes no time uncapping the sharpie— he’ll look that one up later— and scratching out the error. The blasphemy to his unholy name. It takes him a little longer to decide what to write in its place. There are a million words, sure, but somehow none of them feel right at this moment. None of them are enough. That’s something he’ll have to come to terms with later, though— how much nothing feels like enough anymore without Bucky.

Finally Steve settles on a word and he scribbles it as neatly as he can given the fact that he hasn’t had to write anything in eighty years. When he takes a step back, feeling alive for the first time since waking up, he beckons over the girl with the shaved head and points to the place where he’s taken it upon himself to correct history.

“Hey kid, why don’t you go ahead and read that outloud for everyone here.”

He allows another moment— this time because she deserves the time it takes for her eyes to light up and the smile to stretch across her bruised mouth.

Steve laughs— a rusted, croaky laugh; another first in forever— when her head whips around, facing him as she loudly proclaims: “It says boyfriend. Steve Rogers grew up in the streets of Brooklyn alongside his boyfriend Bucky Barnes!”

“Damn right I did—” he mutters to the kid before taking a step towards the crowd of gaping mouths. “Did you all hear that? Don’t worry if ya’ didn’t— I’ll say it one more time. Boyfriend. Bucky was my boyfriend and if he was here today he would be my husband. If any of you have a problem with that then feel free to take it up with me. I took on half of Brooklyn for that man and I’ll do it again.”

When no one says anything Steve nods, turning to hand the girl back her marker and to thank her— he may be angry but he hasn’t lost all his manners— but when he looks at her she doesn’t look back. Instead she takes the same step forward that he had, one of her hands balled into a tiny, shaking fist at her side and the other wrapped around a cell phone that’s pointed towards the crowd. He doesn’t understand the mechanics but he thinks she’s recording.

“You hear that?” She parrots the super soldier with a wavering but fierce voice. “Captain America likes men! And none of you can deny it!”

This time it’s his mouth that drops, watching as she shakily turns the camera off and spins back around. Before Steve can say anything, though, she’s talking again, this time hastier, and he can’t help but think that she sounds so much like him. All flushed and scrawny and pissed.

“I’m sorry, I’ll delete the recording if you want but, I jus’ know these bigots are gonna’ try and cover everything up and that would be a fuckin’ shame. I don’t know if you know how many kids need to hear this. I did— and I think they should too. Only if you want, of course.”

He doesn’t answer right away— he can’t. It’s like looking at himself at fifteen. Suddenly he’s back again, his feet hanging in the water as his boyfriend paces behind him, asking if he’s ready to have him look at his knuckles yet. He didn’t get that many good punches in— the scrapes are mostly from the pavement— but Buck always worries too much so it doesn’t matter. The protective idiot.

Steve shakes his head, blinking away the sunset lingering behind his eyes. “Bucky woulda’ loved you, kid.”

The next time he loses it— the next time he turns into more flame than man— is after he saves the city he’s been trying to burn down for three months.

It isn’t long after that day in the museum when Nick Fury decides it would be best for everyone if Steve goes back into the field. Of course, no one really asks him what he wants— they pretty much just shove a new suit into his hands and tell him to get training, Captain— but what else is new?

No one really comments on his outburst besides that either. Can you really call it an outburst when you’re just trying to reclaim the parts of you that have been stolen? Sure, the press gets a hold of the story and, true to what the kid had said, tries to twist it into something more digestible, but no one actually addresses it up with Steve. Apparently when someone saves the world as good as he does no one cares that they kiss men.

Or that they don’t wanna’ to actually save the world anymore.

See, in those three months— between the training and training and even more training that Steve Rogers begrudgingly obliges— he has time to catch up on the world. More importantly, he has time to catch up on what the world thinks of him. He scours a plethora of documentaries, scholarly essays, and whole books of information about his time as Captain America. Well— his time as Captain America when it mattered. In all his scouring he learns one thing: everything written about him is wrong.

It’s all so fuckin’ wrong.

Just why the hell would he want to save a world so bent on destroying who he is?

The Smithsonian exhibition was nothing compared to what’s been written in the eighty years he spent in the ice. Better yet, nothing compared to what hasn’t been written about him. They’ve taken an eraser to every part of his life that doesn’t fit with the golden image that they constructed for him. A.k.a. every part that matters. His relationship, his past, every little thing that made him supposedly perfect for the role he was given. Gone. Erskine told him he was a good man— apparently he was the only one who thought so.

Apparently being a good man isn’t good enough.

They only wanted the perfect soldier. Yeah, well, they had one and they fucked him over too. Don’t even get him started on what they did to Bucky— Steve doesn’t want to think about what Winnifred— Winnie for short— Barnes would do if she saw the history books erasing her baby’s Jewish roots. Or his relationship. It wouldn’t be pretty, that’s for damn sure. If ever there was someone more protective than Bucky it would have been his mother. Not that there’s a damn note about her in anything either though.

Maybe that’s the final straw that does him in this time— watching the place that Mrs. Barnes loved more than almost anything else in the world crumble, while also knowing that the world no longer gives a shit about the two people she loved more.

“Mr. Rogers, this is where you grew up, is it not? Is there anything you would like to say about what took place here in your home city today?”

Maybe he pretends not to hear the last part— maybe he really does only hear up until where the reporter asks him if there is anything he wants to say. He’s been around quite his fair share of explosions; it would make sense that his hearing is a little off. Maybe he just doesn’t care anymore, though.

Scratch that— he definitely doesn’t care anymore.

And why the fuck should he? He does have something to say and propriety be damned he’s going to say it.

Steve stares into the crowd of faceless reporters and flashing cameras with a scowl on his grimey face. Around him stand the other Avengers— his ‘team’. The last time he had a team the historians screwed up the history for every single member. Dugan, Morita, Falsworth, Jones, Dernier, Sawyer, Juniper, Pinkerton. Barnes. All of them were brave men with families and sacrifices and all of them were treated like jokes by ‘reporters’ just like the ones in front of him now. He really doubts there’s a difference between old and new journalism.

The only difference is that now he’s here and this time he’s not going to let them write anything but the damn truth.

“It is—” Steve muses, brushing the sweaty hair from his forehead— “I’m surprised you know that though.”

The reporter cocks his head, clearly confused, and it makes the super soldier’s blood boil. “Come again, sir?”

“I said I’m surprised you know where I was born, kid.” This time when he says the word— kid— it’s derogatory. “Ya’ know, considering how you all seem to know nothing about me otherwise.”

Steve almost smiles at the way the crowd tenses. He actually would if it weren’t for the white hot rage coursing through his veins, mingling with the last of the adrenaline leftover in his system. It gives him an extra kick— not that he needs it. Even when he was just a runt from the wrong side of the tracks he needed nothing more than an offhand comment to raise his fists. Fighting to Steve Rogers has always been intoxicating— the aftershocks of winning the battle just makes it more thrilling now.

Who knew, right?

“Sir I asked—” The reporter sputters and Steve simply holds a hand up, silencing him before he can start again.

“Yeah I know what you asked, alright. You want me to talk about the battle here in New York today and how I am more than happy to have risked my life to save it. But I can’t do that, kid. Because I didn’t save it for you. I didn’t save it for any of you.”

Steve feels his team tense— maybe were it any other time he would stop talking. He would just leave it, let the issue go, because Bucky would tell him too. They aren’t worth it, bruiser, he would say, they aren’t worth your blood. Maybe he would listen to his boyfriend because usually he was right. Bucky was always right. So yeah, maybe he would list—

Who is he kidding; he knows he wouldn’t.

Not then and certainly not now— not when Bucky isn’t here to defend himself against everything Steve has been reading about. That’s exactly why he doesn’t stop talking. Someone has to defend him and who better of a person than him? So, yeah, he keeps going, even when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You wanna’ know who I did save it for? James Barnes, that’s who I saved it for! You see, just around that corner there is a bookstore. Rickley Books. That was my boyfriend's favourite bookstore. You know, the man who gave his life to stop a train in Austria from reaching the enemies? Yeah that was him. That train was filled with supplies. Had it reached their headquarters, who knows if we’d be standing here today. If there would be a New York at all. Not that you would know that. But who cares about that dead sergeant from the 107th, right? There’s plenty just like him.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly— a move he picked up from the very man he’s speaking about— but he spits his words at the reporters with enough venom to cancel out any peace that the action brings. That’s his own move.

He keeps going. “You know who else I saved it for? His mother. Yeah, his mother Winnie Barnes. Wonderful lady. She used to run a soup kitchen a couple blocks from here. Kept the rift raft like myself from going hungry most nights— I was a brawler, you know.”

A couple of reporters in the crowd laugh at that and Steve flinches, his vision tinting red as he cranes his neck, seeking them out.

“Oh you think that’s funny, do you? You think I’m joking? I’m not. You ever been backed into a corner, son? Had people hurl slurs at you that I can’t even repeat today? Ever been beaten up for loving your best friend? No, I bet you haven’t. You weren’t a queer kid in the thirties. That’s hard— that’s borderline impossible actually. I only made it because of people like Winnie Barnes. That woman was a saint but nobody talks about her either.”

Steve has to take a deep breath, clearing the rasp in his voice that rises as he dwells on the woman he called his second mother for so long. She wasn’t just a saint, she was an angel. He can’t cry here though, not now. Not even as his throat begins to tighten.

“Winnie was the type of lady who didn’t let anyone walk over the little people. She used to sit me down and say Stevie you gotta’ fight for what you want because ain’t nobody gonna’ give it to you. She told me that I shouldn’t have to but that there were going to be people who would try to tear me down just for being me. And she was right— just like her son— because that was the era, you know? But now, here in the twenty-first century, you’re all still trying to tear us down.”

A hand lands on his shoulder, small fingers tugging at where his suit has begun to tear. Natasha Romanoff. He meets her gaze quickly, neck craning to stare down the red head, and in the few seconds their eyes meet it’s like Bucky is next to him. Somehow the blue in her irises catches the falling sun just like his used to. Steve can hear the gruff of his voice in the depths of his mind. Back down, bruiser. The sentiment is echoed across Nat’s face.

Steve shakes her hand off him, turning back to the reporters— don’t they know that he can’t?

“You all say you care about me, huh? That I’m a hero? You know nothing about me— you don’t want to. Before I was a soldier I was a kid. A queer kid. I said that already but let me repeat it. Queer. Did you write that down? None of you certainly did before. That’s how I know that you don’t care— because in an age where being queer is infinitely more accepted you still don’t bother to write it down.”

He pauses for another breath, shutting his eyes against the blinking red lights of the cameras. They’re like little demons, always watching his every move. Recording. Everything’s always recorded these days. Will he ever be used to that? Bucky was the technology guy, not him. Not then and not now.

When Steve picks up again— eyes open and shoulders freshly straight— it’s on a new note— a clear note.

“You don’t care about me— you certainly don’t care about the real heroes of the war because if you did you wouldn’t erase our history. Do you know how much it would have meant to Bucky to see our relationship accepted? The man who died for you? How much it would’ve meant to his mother? You can’t just pick which of our stories and our sacrifices are worthy and which aren't.”

He hasn’t spoken this much since he’s woken up, not all at once at least. Maybe he should have, though— maybe if he had then he wouldn’t feel like ripping the heads off everyone in front of him right now. Call it fight or flight. Call it revenge. Hell, call it whatever you’d like because it doesn’t really matter. Either way he feels like a kid again— again— backed into a corner behind the deli with his fists up and his teeth bared.

He feels feral again.

“So now you just want me to save the world like I did— like Bucky did— all those years ago— or maybe jus’ New York— as if that’s any better— and you don’t even bother to write a proper article about me? Hell, I never even asked for an article, let alone a whole exhibit! I’m just a soldier— and before that I was just a kid. If there’s never another article written about me I’ll be grateful. But now that I’m here, standing in front of you, I’ll say this—”

Just as Steve’s voice is cresting into a shout that would no doubt be heard regardless of whether or not the microphones were in front of him, Natasha tries one more time, her fingers slipping between his.

Her voice is a dull buzz compared to his, only reaching his ears by sheer will. “C’mon Stevie— we gotta’ go now.”

Like before he’s stunned but this time instead of seeing Buck— instead of hearing him in his head— he hears Winnie.

You fought good, honey. You fought good for us. You can rest now.

It’s jarring and it’s not lost on him the handful of awkward seconds that it takes for him to respond. That’s just the effect Winnie had on people though— still has, apparently. Steve shakes his head— I know, mama. But I gotta’ finish this fight.

“No, Nat— I’ve got to say this.” Steve mumbles— voice just beginning to waver despite how hard he clenches his jaw— before sneering at the crowd one last time.

“If I ever read an article from any of you that discredits Bucky Barnes, our relationship, or myself just know that I’ll come for you. I’ll come for this city. Don’t you ever forget who I saved it for. James Barnes, Winnie Barnes, and every queer kid who’s ever felt erased because of people like you. The bigots in the forties couldn’t stop me. The Nazis couldn’t stop me. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could stop me. So don’t think for a second that any of you could either. Have a good day.”

With that Captain America turns, marching off the impromptu stage and beginning the trek back to his apartment. He doesn’t bother looking at his team as he passes them— he can imagine their stunned faces well enough on his own. No doubt he’ll be getting another assignment from Fury soon enough to make up for this ‘outburst’ too. Still, he feels a little bit better. There’s an ache in his shoulder, and one under his ribs too, but he still smiles as he passes Rickman and Sons Books. That must mean something good.

The last time Steve Rogers burns he doesn’t burn the way he’s expecting to— he doesn’t vandalize his own name or blow up at a reporter. No, the third time— the final time— that Steve Rogers burns it’s with nostalgia— and with a damn good cup of coffee in his hand.

“I had no idea this place was even here.” The girl across from Steve muses, tiny hands shifting the steaming cup back and forth.

Her name is Ellie, he learned that back at the museum after asking for a copy of the video she took. He barely knew how to use his phone back then, let alone his email— hell, both still confuse him more often than not— but she had been patient. A little awestruck and a little riled up too but he took it in stride— easily. It’s not hard being nice to the spitting image of him.

“I’m glad I’m good for something other than making the news.” Steve chuckles and this time he means it— there’s no malice or ill intent, only humor. “O’Malley’s ‘s been here longer than I have. Looked a little different then—” he takes a moment to let his eyes wander the old coffee shop and it’s new appliances— a moment to feel his age catch up to him— “but I guess I did too.”

Ellie’s laughter joins in there and it’s strange— strange that he hasn’t laughed with another person in seven, almost eight, months; strange that her laughs sound so much like Bucky’s when they were younger; strange that Bucky isn’t here to hear. Here to laugh, too. Because he would have.

He would have called Steve an old man, would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders, would have asked— no, demanded— that Ellie try the plum cobbler. They always made the best cobbler. Bucky always had the best laugh. All grit and breath and him. Steve feels warm just thinking about it.

“Well thanks for letting me in on the secret, I’ll make sure to guard it carefully.” She even has Bucky’s warm sarcasm.

Maybe it’s not so much like looking in a mirror as it is looking at what he wishes he and his boyfriend could have been back then.

“And thanks for letting me interview you—” Ellie continues, setting the cup down but not before nodding at it, her eyes wide— “wow. You weren’t kidding about the joe, huh? Anyway— thanks for scheduling this. I know you’re probably super busy— and that there are more well established people you could have gone to.”

Steve sets his own mug down too— if he hadn’t there’s a possibility it would be more puddle than porcelain. “Well established means nothin’, kid. Not when you don’t have heart. They’re parasites, all of ‘em. The press couldn’t care less about me.”

Ellie nods, lifting the lid of her laptop. It’s a little bit dented and slathered in stickers, not quite the newest model— he would know, he has the newest one and it’s still sitting in his apartment in the box. Yet another testament to how little the people around him truly know him.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, can I get you a side of classism with that commercialism?”

Now she sounds like Winnie too.

“Say, has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

She shrugs, tilting her head, a lopsided grin glued to her face. “Once or twice— I never know if they mean it or if they just want me to shut up. I never do so I guess we’ll never know.”

Steve sputters out another laugh because; “I guess we’re the same then— never give them a moment, kid. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He pauses— again— he supposes it’s going to be a day of pausing— he supposes it’s about time he pauses— before adding, “Bucky would’ve scolded me for saying that.”

Ellie’s fingers, swift and deft over the machine— Steve hadn’t even seen her begin to type— pause too as her smile softens. “What would he have said instead?”

Her question shouldn’t catch off guard— this is why he asked her to meet him; to finally, properly write his story— their story. Still he pauses— Steve’s empty hands feel hot, his shoulders warm; bare— what would he have said? It doesn’t take long to hear his boyfriend’s voice, not there but somehow loud in his ear all the same.

Just relax— they aren’t worth it. It’s too nice out to care about anything but the water— are you coming in or not? Summer doesn’t last forever, you know?

It’s impossible but Steve can feel the sun on his back and on his ears again, like he’s there— like he’s back, sixteen and on fire. Those were the days where everything made him cold. The days where his skin burned no matter the season but especially in August which was when the ocean was warm enough to swim in. It never stopped him from joining Buck— nothing could have stopped him. His cheeks warm, too, at the thought.

Steve blinks, his own smile— perhaps a little lopsided in it’s own right— shaping over his mouth. “He would have told you to relax— and to try the plum cobbler. It’s fantastic.”

With another giggle— and a reiterated comment— has anyone ever told you you’re funny, Steve?— they fall into a conversation, just a kid and a relic, about life. It’s not an easy conversation— but then again those kinds never are. It’s real, though, and unedited. Unfiltered. Just the way Erskine and Winnie and Bucky would have liked it— the only way Steve wants it. It’s not perfect but, hell, Steve has never been perfect.

He’s never wanted to be.

Maybe Steve doesn’t know everything his boyfriend would say— and maybe he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t blow up once or twice after today— but he can confidently say that he gave Brooklyn a run for her money— twice— and lived to tell the tale. He can say then when it mattered, he burned. That he still burns. That he will until he doesn’t— until he’s extinguished.

But, hey, though Summer doesn’t last forever, not even the Atlantic could extinguish the flame that is Steve Rogers.

That’s what he writes— in Sharpie— on the card he writes to Ellie— the one attached to the computer he knows he’ll never use.

[snlhostharry]

romeo and juliet thing

harry styles x reader

“rivals” to lovers au 

~3k words

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex 

my piece for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s to lovers challenge, congrats on your milestone! 

a/n: amazing thing I realized while writing this: if you don’t put it off you can actually get it done in a reasonable amount of time... I will not be applying this to any other aspects of my life 

You’ve come to enjoy album release parties. The first one you’d ever been to was the one for your first album, something someone from your publicity team has put together, which they did a decent job on but you did not have a good time. You were so nervous about the album coming out at all that you tried to use alcohol to calm your nerves, so you can’t really remember anything about it besides briefly throwing up in the bathroom. After that incident, you resolved not to drink before the party ever again and the next few you’d been too for other artists were actually fun in their own special ways. 

By the time your second album is on the cusp on release, you’ve decided that you deserved it after the mess of writer's block you’d gotten in the middle of trying to write the thing, which had gotten so bad that you’d been called into a “special meeting” by management where they talked for what felt like hours about deadlines and marketing and basically tried to intimidate you into finishing faster. Something happened that allowed you to finish, it was an odd timing but it did help. 

But that was ages ago, and you’re trying to focus on the party. 

Which is easy enough, winding through the room talking to friends and investors, small talk is easy when you're trying to avoid something else. You’re talking to someone who’s name you are definitely not going to remember when this is over, when out of the corner of your eye you think you see someone who should definitely not be here. When you're finally released from said conversation you walk around the room, trying to find the intruder. You make your way all the way back to the bathroom, when suddenly the person you’ve been looking for slams right into you. 

You’re far enough in a corner that you think no one can see you, which is good because if anyone got photos of the two of you together you would never hear the end of it. Harry Styles looks at you like he’s been caught in the act, the guilty expression not leaving his face even as he says, “Funny seeing you here.” 

“At my own party?” You ask. 

He licks his lips, trying to buy time to think of something to say. “Before you say anything,” He says, treading cautiously, “I was told to come here.” 

You narrow your eyes, “By who?” 

“Someone who works for me,” He replies, “Which means that someone who works for you gave them the information.” 

You groan, “Of course they did, well at least make sure they get your good side when someone comes around to take photos.” 

He smiles at that, “That’s every side, love.” 

You shake your head, typing a message on your phone and quickly sending it, “It’s not but it’s cute that you think so.” 

“Ignoring that little comment,” He says, seeing that your attention is divided between him and the person you seem to be very angrily texting. “It’s a good song you wrote, I’m excited to hear the rest of the album.”

“Oh,” You say, eyes widening, “Thank you..?” He tilts his head to the side gently, clearly his way of asking a question without actually asking a question. “Sorry, I just didn’t realize we were doing the thing where we pretend this is normal, and you are normally at my party.”

He laughs, “Didn’t know there was pretending involved.” 

“I’m just so used to pretending to loathe you all day everyday that it's just so natural,” You say, and wait to see if he’ll get the joke. 

He shrugs, “Really? I don’t think of you all that much.” 

Your phone buzzes in your hand before you can respond, one message sits unread underneath the ten you’d sent a few minutes earlier in rapid succession. Honestly? I invited him because I thought it would be fun. Of course that would be her rationale for not telling you about this very obvious stunt. Inviting your “rival” to your album release party is the perfect way to get your name in some headlines conveniently before the whole thing goes live, not like you need them but then again you do pay people to manage this kind of thing so they figure they should be doing something. 

Oh yeah, Harry is supposed to be your “rival.” Think of some of the most infamous musical feuds of all time, and then knock it down a few pegs, and that’s where you would put yours and harrys. No one knows how it really started, something between a couple of twitter stans you’ve been told, but it suddenly gave each of your respective “people” the genius idea to milk that kind of exposure for all that it’s worth. The two of you have been pit against each other ever since the release of your debut albums, both self titled and both released within two weeks of each other. It hasn’t harmed either of you, being compared to the other, since you’re both pretty evenly matched in terms of talent. 

It seems to only exist to make the occasional headline when the media remember that it “exists.” There have been headlines wondering if you’ve mentioned him in tik toks (you didn’t) in instagram posts (you were shading someone but not him) and if this whole thing started due to a one night stand that went the wrong way (definitely not). 

You pull yourself back into the conversation, realizing you're being rude trying to think of something to respond to the text message. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”

“Who are you rage tweeting over there?”

“Rage texting actually,” You say as another one comes through, “Fucking Melanie.” 

“Unfortunate that her parents gave her that as a first name.”

You look up at him right away, “Not funny.” He laughs at his own joke anyway, “Melanie-” You say, holding up your phone for dramatic effect, “Is the head of the PR team, which is three people but anyway she is the one who seems to have coordinated this whole thing as a prank on me apparently.” 

“It’s kind of funny,” He says. 

You narrow your eyes at him, “I’m sure from your point of view it is.” Suddenly, someone comes rounding the corner near where the two of you are standing, and you freeze on instinct until they pass right in front of you without even looking in your direction. You realize that in a panic, you’d grabbed onto Harry’s hand and you decide that the two of you are going to have to finish this conversation somewhere else. “Come with me,” You sigh, leading him through the back of the room all the way to a small door that leads to an outside area at the back of the venue. You look at him again, his eyes glinting in the lights hanging above your heads. “What were we talking about?”

“Are you ever listening to me?” He asks, half joking. 

“Don’t take it personally I’m only half listening to everyone,” You answer, “It’s called multitasking.” 

“Seems tiring.” 

“Better than being bored,” You say.

He looks at you for a second without saying and then shoves his hands in his pockets, “Why are we out here again?” 

“I’m trying to figure out what’s the game plan here, if you’re supposed to be seen here alone, seen with me, if I’m supposed to throw some kind of tantrum about it.” 

“Besides the one your already throwing?” 

You stop looking at your phone, “Ouch.” 

“Punishment for continuing to ignore me.”

You turn off your phone and hold it in your hand gently, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening, but only if you’re going to say something that it’s some kind of thinly veiled insult,” You click your tongue, “You’re one of those guys who flirts by making fun of girls aren’t you?” 

He thinks about it, “That’s a type?” 

“Yeah, for people who are still mentally in high school.” 

“So you wouldn't be interested then?” 

You smile, thinking about it. Here’s the thing, despite the fact you very much have been pretending to loathe Harry Styles for two years just so you don’t slip it if someone asks, you recognise now that he is objectively attractive. The curls, and the eyes and the borderline too busy suit jacket he’s wearing (that both of you know costs an exorbitant amount) is all contributing to a look that is working for you at the moment. Also working in his favor? The semi enemies to lovers arc that you have going on in your head. “Despite the fact that I think that kind of flirting is beneath you, at this moment, it’s currently working for me.” 

You take a step forward, closer to him, and suddenly your phone starts going off again. You check it briefly, trying very much not to ruin the moment but very cognizant of the fact that this is your party and people are going to start noticing if you're gone. You look down, see it’s not a life or death emergency and look right back at Harry. “Let me guess,” He says, “She wants you to kiss me for the cameras?”

You laugh, “No, but I’m going to do it anyway.” You kiss him, he leans in and you think that you might just seal the deal with harry styles out on this very nice patio when your phone rings again. You pull away when it’s clear that whoever it is needs you desperately, you look at the message, and groan, “Fucking Melaine.” You look towards the door and back at Harry, “Okay this is not over, but I have to go take care of stuff, so just meet me here after the whole thing is over and we will finish this thing.” 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah,” You smile, “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers, like Romeo and Juliet without the ending.” You pause, “Well maybe with the end if Melanie kills me with her bare hands for not talking to this producer she wants me to meet.” 

“Later, then.” 

You take him back to your apartment that night. And you invite him back the next day, and then the week and then a few more times after that. As much as you had meant it a joke at the time, the kind of forbidden lovers aspect of trying to keep this whole thing under wraps is sexy in a way that you would never admit outloud. 

You’ve both become shockingly adept at sneaking in and out of apartments, neighborhoods (Harry has multiple priorities; why that is you're not exactly sure) and sometimes clubs if you're in a group and it’s dark enough that you think no one will see you. 

“Should I climb up through the window?” You ask Harry as you stand in the backyard of his house in London,  swimsuit clad even though you’ve gone nowhere near the pool. 

Harry looks at you from his place on the ground next to you. He’d refused to get a chirhair to sit on, so he just sits on the ground, looking out over the pool and the fence. “Why would you do that?” 

“Romeo and Juliet thing, didn’t he climb through the window to see her?”

He shrugs, wrapping his arms around your bare legs in some attempt to keep your attention on him, “I don’t know, never read it.” He laughs a little, “But I think if you did that some pap would catch you with your ass hanging out of my window.” 

You laugh too, “And you would never fucking stop laughing at that.” 

“No, I would not.” 

You kick your leg out so that you almost hit him right in the face, “Fucker, I thought you were over being mean to me as a tactic. You have successfully romanced me.” 

“Really? Because you’re staring at the house like you’re going to kill me for my money.” 

“You’d put me in your will? That’s sweet,” You turn to him, pulling your sunglasses onto the top of your head. 

“You are so hot right now.”

“It is hot,” You say, looking out at the clear sky, “What an observation.” 

“You’re screwing with me.” 

“Because I’m too tired to screw you at the moment,” You say, “Can’t we just enjoy one day in one of your two properties out in the sun before you start making me exercise?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that.” 

“It is work,” You say, rolling your eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that song you played yesterday, I think it needs to be less.. Ethereal.” 

“What does that mean?” 

You sit down next to him, laying your head in the grass. “Harry Styles is a rockstar, if you’re going to do a sad song, which seems to be your specialty, it needs to at least have a beat.” 

“People don’t want to dance to sad songs.” 

“Dude,” You say matter of factly, “Of course they do, I do and I think I speak for a very large section of the United States population.You need a sad song you can at the very least scream too, if not full out dance.” 

“So what’s your suggestion?” He asks. 

“Add more guitar,” You tell him, “Like a lot more. Take all the lyrics you have and put them on a track that sounds like it should be about your new puppy or something.” 

“Who writes songs about puppies?” 

“It was an example, H.” You sigh, “but you get the point.” 

“I’ll think about it.” 

“Don’t be like that.” He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you let it go as one of his moods for a while. But it goes on for longer than you thought it would be, and eventually you sit up. He’s staring down at his phone, frozen, and then he starts typing without saying anything to you. “What are you looking at?” You ask him, and he doesn’t say anything. “What is it H?” You ask again. 

“Fuck it all,” He says, dropping his phone to the ground, and covering his face with his hands as he laid down with his head in the grass. 

You pick his phone up off the ground and see that he’s opened twitter. Staring right back at you is a picture of the two of you kissing outside a small restaurant from the night before, you rack your brain trying to think if you saw anywhere when you were there and you swore you didn’t. Like it or not, everyone is going to know about the two of you now, including Melanie who had told you not to interact with Harry after the party expressly. “Shit,” You say, and your phone begins to ring the sound of Temporary Fix filling the small backyard. 

“Fucking Melanie,” Harry says, still lying on the ground, “She’s going to ream me.” 

“Well at least she’ll do it to both of us,” You groan, not even bothering to go and get your phone. You stand up, as a tension headache begins to form in your temples, “Well I’m going to get into the pool.” 

“Now?” He asks you. “Seems like the perfect way to avoid this problem, doesn’t it?” 

He also gets to his feet, and takes your hand, “Yeah it does.” 

And together the two of you jump into the pool. 

It’s an hour before you finally call Melanie back, even though you meant to avoid it for at least another hour. You sit at the kitchen counter while Harry takes a call in another room, dreading this call because you do not want to hear her yell at you for nothing, mostly because you're a grown woman and are above being lectured. 

“Were you just not going to tell me about this?” 

“Yes, that was the plan.” 

“I told you not to-”

“Yeah but I had already made plans by then that I couldn’t cancel.” 

“There was one man in the entire world, who you couldn’t fuck-”

“I know, what are the odds?” 

“Could you please stop fucking with me for one second?” She says, “This is serious.” 

“It’s not that bad, for you I mean.” You shrug, “I mean for me my personal business is all out on the internet now and I’ll be permanently known as one of Harry Styles’ girlfriends but for you what’s better press wise than a good ol enemies to lovers arc? I won’t tell anyone the enemies part wasn’t real if you won’t.” 

You hear her sigh from the other end of the phone, and then tap her nails against the desk. “You might be onto something there.” 

“I’m always onto something Melanie, I’m the artist here aren’t I?” And you hang up, before you say something that you’ll regret. You’d meant what you said, you were mostly just uncomfortable with everyone knowing who you're dating, especially the harry twitter stans who are known for being very excitable to say the least, you could see why they liked him so much but you would be lying if you said they didn’t scare you. You think of all the interviews you’ll do in the future where people will ask about him, about your relationship and maybe about how it ended. 

Harry comes back into the kitchen and grabs two beers from the fridge. He opens both and sets one out in front of you. “How did it go?” 

“Fine,” You say. You look at him, “Is this the part where we break up because you can’t be seen with me?” You put your face into the counter and let out another groan. 

“Never,” He says, taking a drink, “No one else I would rather weather this shit-storm with.” 

You smile, “Same here.”