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#he's just a little guy!! just living his life!!
livwritessometimes · 19 hours
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loml - Max Verstappen
: Max Verstappen x Singer!reader
: Max and Y/n’s relationship was legendary…but it also was momentary
: Series Masterlist
: Main Masterlist
: Author's Note: After every fic i feel like wow this is the longest fic i have ever written...ya this! is probably the longest fic i have ever written!!
(set in 2018)
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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story
-> 💙
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maxverstappen1 added to their story!
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| Yourname replied to your story
-> P1 Lesgoooooo 🙌🏻
| User34 replied to your story
-> it’s so nice to see you get the recognition you deserve <3
*liked by maxverstappen1*
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Y/n was standing near the Red Bull garage when she spotted Max returning for his interviews. Without a second thought, she launched herself into his arms.
“Ahhhhh, I’m so proud of you!!! I feel like I haven’t said that enough,” she smiled as she pulled away from him. “You have, but it’s okay. I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that,” Max said as he looked at her as if her eyes held all the stars in the sky.
Max was aware that by now they would have cameras on them; the Red Bull team loved to capture any interaction between the couple. Ignoring all of that, Max pulled her close and kissed her.
For Y/n, all of this was very new; her last relationship hadn't been this public. The privacy of it all was something that was exciting at first, but after a while, it felt suffocating. When she met Max, she felt aglow like she had never felt before. It was only a matter of time before she knew that Max was the one for her.
And it wasn't easy; they were both slowly gaining more recognition, and people were ready to pick them apart. But as she watched Max celebrate his first Grand Prix win of the season in Austria, all the struggles felt worth the effort.
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"I have a story to tell you regarding the last song of the night," said Y/n as the crowd erupted in cheers. She smiled brightly before continuing, "A few years ago, I did not believe in love, not in the way I do now. Have you guys ever met someone who feels so right that all you want is to be close to him forever and ever?"
"Being with them feels like breathing, like something you've done your whole life. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you, Lover," Y/n said as she made eye contact with Max. Slowly, the intro starts playing, but all Max could look at was Y/n, in all her element, looking back at him.
If the world were to end tomorrow, Max would have died a happy man. Lost in their little universe, the two failed to notice all the fans that captured this beautiful moment between the couple. Racing can take up a lot of Max's time, and he's not proud of the fact that a lot of times it comes at the stake of their relationship. But right here, right now, all he could focus on was Y/n.
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| maxverstappen1 replied to your story
-> 💕
Yourname: I'm so happy that you were able to make it!! thank you so much for coming, it means a lot to me Max <3
-> Ofc Liefde, I had some time off thought I'd drop by
| User55 replied to your story
-> it is so nice to see Max at your concert!!! your entire face lit up when you saw him, i hope you guys stay like this forever ✨
*liked by Yourname*
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👤: maxverstappen1
Yourname: So proud of how far we’ve come, Maxiee!!! From being just a bunch of kids who wanted to make a name for themselves and achieve their goals to finally living their dream life, I couldn’t have done it without you by my side 💖
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maxverstappen1: Couldn't have done it without you as well Schat 💙
*liked by Yourname*
bffname: Cuties!!! Can't wait to meet you guys <3
*liked by Yourname, maxverstappen1*
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The entire party, all Y/n could do was check her phone. She felt guilty; it was bffname's day, and it was supposed to be special, yet here she was feeling sad for herself. From the corner of her eye, bffname could see Y/n in the corner of the room, nursing her 4th drink of the night.
"You can leave, you know. I won't feel bad," said bffname. Y/n looked up from her phone immediately, as if she were caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "No, no, it's not like that. I want to be here; it's your 23rd birthday; I wouldn't miss it for the world," said Y/n. "You know you can fool anyone you want, but you can never fool me. I know you like the back of my hand," said bffname. "If you want to go to Max, it's okay; you being able to make it was more than enough."
Y/n felt her eyes tearing up a little; even after being a horrible friend, bffname was still understanding. "I'm so sorry; I have been a shitty friend, and yet you are here checking on me rather than celebrating," Y/n said as she finally felt a few droplets stream down her face.
"See, I know that you and Max haven't been in the best place, but it's okay. I know it's scary; you have been with him for so long that even the idea of losing him is scary," bffname said as she wiped a few tears off of Y/n's face. "Just don't lose yourself while trying to save your relationship."
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👤: maxverstappen1, Yourname
F1gossip: Red Bull driver Max Verstappen and singer/songwriter Y/n L/n were seen fighting outside by some of the paps. It was noticed that Verstappen had come to pick up L/n from a party (Bffname Bfflastname's birthday celebration). The two were seen arguing, and it is even believed that L/n was under the influence of alcohol. Verstappen was seen comforting L/n, but much to his attempts, L/n was not budging. Later on, Verstappen was seen shouting at L/n. It ended with Verstappen getting in the car and storming off, leaving a teary-eyed L/n behind. It is believed that the couple might have called it quits after dating for 2 years. This news has not been confirmed by either Verstappen or L/n. Check out our website for more updates on the Verstappen-L/n fight.
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User75: Nooo whyyyy???? they were so happy tho...
-> User09: ikrrr bffname had commented on yourname's post too! She was so excited to meet them. What happened?
User20: I'm not believing any of this until I see either of them confirm the breakup. They are happily dating, and this never happened ^^
-> User11: @/User20 check twt
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(set in 2019)
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liked by User32 and 51,329 others
👤: maxverstappen1, Yourname
F1gossip: 6 months after their breakup, Max Verstappen and Y/n L/n were spotted together in Miami. The two seemed to be having a good time at the beach under the warm Miami sun. A close source to Verstappen reveals that the two have been seeing each other for a few months now. This is the first time the pair were spotted together after their public breakup. Both Verstappen and L/n have been doing well in their career paths ever since their breakup. Verstappen has won 2 Grand Prix so far and has seen a massive improvement in this performance as compared to last year, whereas L/n has recently released her 3rd studio album, with all the songs making it into the Billboard Hot 100. Only time will tell whether the two are in it for the long run or whether they call it quits again.
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User02: I'M NO LONGER A CHILD OF DIVORCE 🙌🏻
-> User59: I just hope they make it work this time!!!
User76: Not to be like that, but this will either give us the best love song of the summer or the most gut-wrenching song ever to exist
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Y/n smiled as she put her phone down and looked back at Max. Both of them had decided to take a quick trip to Miami. "Do you think we'll have kids?" Max asked so nonchalantly that Y/n had to ask again to make sure she heard him right, "What?" "Do you think we'll have kids later on in life?" Max repeated. "I think I would like to have a girl," Max continued as he looked out at the sea. Amused, Y/n asked, "Oh, really? and why is that?" "I feel like a girl is easy to manage; you know, there are less chances that she'll end up like me," Max said before adding, "Plus, she'll look like you, so you know she is gonna have everyone wrapped around her little finger."
Max looked back at Y/n with a cheeky smile to see her already looking back at him with a look that conveyed nothing but pure love. "I think you'd be a great dad; even if we have a son, and if he becomes even half the man you are, then we did a great job raising him," Y/n said as she ran her hands through Max's hair. "I've not had the best example growing up; I mean, I know my dad wasn't the best, but had he not made all the sacrifices he did back then, I would not have been here. 'Max Verstappen, Star of Red Bull' I would have been a loser," Max said as he closed his eyes, soaking in his surroundings. It felt nice, peaceful even, being away from everything.
"A loser who I'd still love," Y/n said as she pulled Max closer. "Even if you do not have anything with you, you will always have me," she added. "Oh, don't you worry about that; I plan on keeping you by my side forever," Max said. "You just wait till I put a ring on that finger; after that, you can't leave me, even if you wanted to," he added. "I wouldn't dream of it," Y/n said before getting up and running towards the water. Their laughter filled the air as Max got up and chased after her, pulling her into the water with him.
Yourname added to their story!
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(Cat's out of the bag I guess 🤭)
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-> 💙
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-> 💪🏻💪🏻
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Max should be happy; he should feel all the joy in the world; he finished 3rd in the standings after all, yet the smile did not reach his eyes. He looked around the party thrown to celebrate his and the team's victory and saw Y/n talking to one of the engineers. Max couldn't help but let the bittersweet thought take over his mind. He hated himself for thinking these things, but ever since he got back with Y/n, his season hasn't been goin- "She seems nice, Y/n, I mean," breaking his chain of thoughts, Max looked at his father. "Huh, oh ya," said Max as he took a sip of his drink.
"But she's not right for you; before you got back with her, everything was going in your favor, and look at you now; you're 3rd on the list. You can do better, Max," said Jos as he went to talk to other people at the party. Max hated his father for being critical about his relationship, but he hated himself more because he himself had thought about this.
So one cancelled date becomes two, and before Max knew it, he was constantly blowing off Y/n. In fact, if he comes to think of it, this is probably the first time the two have been out together in a month. So lost in his thought, Max did not notice a sad Y/n slipping from the party.
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👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1
F1gossip: Is it finally over between Verstappen and L/n? Y/n L/n was seen leaving the Red Bull celebration a little early. The singer seemed to be upset as she left the building. One of the workers at the party informed us that the two did not spend much time together. Verstappen and L/n, who have not been spotted out in public in a month, were seen entering the party together a few hours ago, and that was the last of it. We got information from a close source to the couple that things have been rocky between the two. According to the source, Verstappen considers his relationship with L/n a distraction, which led to him not performing to the best of his abilities after the summer break. Verstappen has only won one Grand Prix ever since L/n confirmed that the two were back together via an Instagram Story. It seems like it is finally time to bury the hatchet in the Verstappen-L/n love story.
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User23: Honestly their constant on and off is annoying at this point, like make up your mind already ffs
User99: I mean, it's not like Max is wrong...ever since they got back together, he hasn't been doing his best, and that is pretty evident
(set in 2020)
Y/n knew that this was wrong. She knows that she can't keep running back to Max after he shows up, making the same promises again and again. At this point, Y/n can probably narrate it in her sleep: "I promise I'll change," "We are meant to be," "You're the love of my life; I can't lose you." Yet she believed him every single time. How could she not? They have been through so much together. How could she let go of all this history because things have been rocky between them?
Lost in her trail of thoughts, Y/n did not realize that she had reached the venue. It was when she felt her side of the door open that she looked up to find a dazzling Max looking back at her. He was glowing; having just won the 70th anniversary GP, Max looked like he would burst from happiness. Y/n couldn't help but match his smile.
They both slowly made their way through the red carpet, posing for pictures. As they reached the entrance, she felt Max fidgeting. "What's wrong?" she asked as she reached for his hand. Max laced his finger with her before saying, "Nothing; it's just that this is my first win of the season. I thought that this year would have been my year, but would you look at how it all turned out to be?" Y/n nodded at Max to continue, "I never thought I would spend so much time at home because of the pandemic, and I never thought that all that time alone would make me realize how much I have missed you," Max said before looking at Y/n. "Every second without you feels like I'm suffocating; you're like a breath of fresh air. Every time I look at you, I feel like all the stars in the sky are nothing compared to you," said Max as he caressed Y/n's cheek.
Y/n didn't know how to describe this feeling. Standing in front of her was a boy she had known for a long time, a boy who always wanted to prove his worth to his father, a boy who sacrificed so much to achieve his dreams, a boy who was simply madly in love with her.
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👤: maxverstappen1
Yourname: ...and at every table, I'll save you a seat 💙
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maxverstappen1: I love you
-> Yourname: I love you too Max
User77: Y/n I love you sweetheart, but noooo why are you back with Max
-> User62: shut up! you're just jealous of what they have
-> User77: tf no, I am concerned about her! Every time they get back together, I feel like Y/n looks less and less happy
-> User22: can we stop all of this and just appreciate how hot they both look 🔥
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👤: maxverstappen1, redbullracing
F1: Max Verstappen out of the Sakhir Grand Prix on lap 1. Trying to avoid Sergio Perez, who was hit by Charles Leclerc at turn 4, Verstappen ended up on the gravel, crashing into the tire barrier. This is the 4th time this season Verstappen has not been able to finish a race. With one race left, Verstappen's chances of winning the world championship seem a little out of reach at the moment. We can only hope for the best for the Dutchman.
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User71: Then you guys say that him getting back with Y/n has nothing to do with his performance!!
-> User04: Shut up that has got nothing to do with Y/n
-> User71: whatever you say 🤷🏻‍♀️ the evidence is right there but okay ignorance is bliss i guess
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liked by User22 and 90,272 others
👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1
F1gossip: All's well that ends well, but not for Y/n L/n. It seems like Max Verstappen has finally ended things for good between the both of them. This news comes after L/n was seen leaving their shared apartment with boxes of her belongings. The two have also since unfollowed each other on Instagram. Although many members of the Red Bull team, including team principal Christian Horner and wife Geri Halliwell, still continue to follow the singer, it is safe to say that their ship has officially sailed. Check out our website to see their entire relationship timeline.
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User22: Not the admin using lyrics from Lover
-> User48: I was thinking the same thing, like, "All's well that ends well to end up with you" i- 😀
User01: FINALLYYY I'm telling you all next year is gonna be Max's year!! I CAN FEEL IT!!!!
(set in 2021)
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liked by maxverstappen1 and 892,620 others
👤: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet
redbullracing: OUR CHAMPION!!! LET'S GO MAX 🦁🏆
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User01: I TOLD YOU ALL IT WAS GONNA BE MAX'S YEAR!!! HE FINALLY WON THE CHAMPIONSHIP 🏆🏆
*liked by redbullracing*
User11: I'm really happy for Max, but did he just confirm his relationship with Kelly Piquet!!! who, may I add, has a CHILD!!!!!!!
-> User67: Ikrrrrr like I'm sorry, but he was with Y/n for such a long time, and now he has a new girl and a child in his life??? This was supposed to be him and Y/n!!!!
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liked by User88 and 89,638 others
👤: Yourname, maxverstappen1
F1gossip: Y/n L/n was spotted outside for the first time since the news of Max Verstappen dating Brazilian model Kelly Piquet came out. L/n was seen sitting alone in a park, drinking beer. It is believed that this park was one that Verstappen and L/n used to visit a lot with Verstappen's cats. Many bystanders have said that the singer looked lost in her thoughts as she continued sipping her drink. It seems that everyone had believed the two would be back together by the end of the season when pictures of Verstappen with a mysterious woman surfaced, but much to everyone's surprise, the woman in the pictures is now believed to be Piquet. I guess we can say with certainty that Verstappen-L/n has officially come to an end.
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User03: Why are you so obsessed with Y/n? it's so annoying. They broke up; let her be!!
User56: Ofc she's salty now that Max has a good woman by his side. She'll just do about anything to get his attention, wouldn't she?
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liked by bffname and 165,872 others
Yourname: I had taken some time off from everything - my music, my fans, my friends, even my family. I was at a place where I felt something I had never felt before. People tell you that there will come a time in everyone's life where you will feel absolutely lost, like you don't know what to do with your life now, and it is very easy to say that with time you'll get through it and find your way again. What everyone fails to mention is how lonely this time will feel. You have people who love you and want the best for you, yet you can't seem to get out of this hole you have dug up for yourself. Taking a break and going back to where I started my journey made me realize why I do what I do. I have never needed songwriting more than I did during this period of time. As I write this, I finally realize that this chapter of my life is over. I have no wounds that I need to heal, no bridges that I want to burn. As of today, I set this song free. It was mine once, and it's yours now. loml out at midnight.
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User55: Y/n wtffffff I was not prepared for this!!!!! Girl it's 2 PM YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THIS AND EXPECT ME TO BE FINE!!
bffname: I am so proud of you!!! words can't sum up how much I adore the person you have become 💕
*liked by Yourname*
User91: waitttt is this about her situation with Max???
-> User40: I mean must be! who else would she be referring to as love of my life??
-> User91: true
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liked by bffname and 201,826 others
Yourname: I would like to thank all of my fans for the immense support they have shown me. Your kind words mean the world to me. Thank you for always accepting me the way I am and sticking with me, for better and for worse. I had the time of my life playing for you guys. I can't wait for more shows in the future 🩵
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User32: I still can't get over loml!!! what do you mean by "A con-man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme"
-> User13: Are we gonna ignore "What we thought was for all time was momentary"!!!!!!!! I feel like someone stabbed me in my gallbladder and then poured detergent over it 🫨
User40: What do you mean by loml - love loss of my life 💔
User28: "Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire. Your arson's match, your somber eyes And I'll still see it until I die" that is because that dream is dead now :(
-> User13: They talked about having kids one day!!! and now he gets to live that life with someone else 🥲
-> User66: Y/n I hate the fact that you had to go through this. My ex passed away before we could start a life together. It sucks when you plan your entire future with someone and then they're just not there. And now it's just you, alone, in the house of your dreams that you both built for yourselves. I wish you all the strength and happiness that there is in this world!! 🤍
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44st4rs · 2 days
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SORCERER DRIVE!
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༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ PAIRINGSؘ: Pervert Neighbor!Gojo Satoru x Fem!reader
˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ WORD COUNT: 12.2k
˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ CW: dubcon, noncon voyeurism, perverted themes, teasing, exhibtionism, groping, male masturbation, use of sex toy, talks of wet dreams, phone sex, implied voice kink, oral(f & m receiving) fingering, heavy clit play, slight themes of possessiveness (gojo just really wants you) public sex, multiple orgasms, begging, pussydrunk!Gojo, couch sex, pussywhipped!Gojo, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare
˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄XOXO, CHRIS: It’s finally here :))) Literally so proud of this fic. I put aside all my other wips for this and God, I’m just so excited to share it with you guys :P
˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ WANT MORE?ؘ 
pt. 2 ft. Toji (TBD)
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Sorcerer Drive.
It’s a quiet neighborhood away from the buzz of the city, casted away by freshly cut grass, swaying trees, and a piece of mind. The suburban street holds twelve pristine homes—no more and no less. Some of these homes hold couples, families, and even singles; all escaping from the hectic life of the city. Its occupants aren’t what many would call typical however, each life sharing in its vibrancy.
Sorcerer Drive is also home to one Gojo Satoru, the twenty-eight-year-old man of unhinged transparency. He’s kind, open with his home, his heart—and his intentions. He’s persistent, a little too persistent to get exactly what he wants. His signature ruse of soft words and sly manners are all cause for harm, stringing along one too many housewives during the days he had off.
He knows it’s wrong to invade but it’s the attention he seeks, longing to fill some hole in his iron-clad heart. Every woman he sets his eyes on can never really commit to Gojo, some wary of his hidden natures. His sought-out success is usually foiled by the first date, ruined by a degrading facet he can’t repress all that well. It’s unfitting for a man like him to act in such a way, unable to subdue his perverse ways.
As far as Gojo’s aware, he’s always been like this, falling apart in the presence of women. He can’t help it, the desire that sits deep within his belly. There’s something about a woman that throws all of Gojo’s coherency out the window and pulls his insatiability to mind. He’s dangerously in love with every quality of those who tease his eye. He can’t go without wondering how his latest muse would look beneath him.
Even in his neighborhood, his perverted tendencies still bled through his new persona. He’d stare at whatever crossed his way—the tops of breasts jiggling during the morning runs of the housewives, snapping pictures of the many panties slips creeping out from the shortest of dresses at cookouts, even shamelessly ogling at how the wives shower their husbands in kisses.
Block parties were his favorite, he’s cocky with the husbands but flirty with the housewives. He knows all the tricks to pull, what to say, where to touch playfully, just to simply chase some fleeting attention for those around him—solely to end with him gaining yet another enemy.
Yet, in the three years he’s lived in the quiet neighborhood, Gojo’s never known what the company of a woman can do for him. None have ever been welcoming of his antics, both bold and suggestive. He only thrives off what surrounds him, gathering his collective moments of joy.
And it’s been that tragic cycle for as long as he’s known…until fate pulled on his tattered string.
There’s a house before his own, a shade of a pretty blue with its complements of white. And for as long as Gojo’s lived on the street, it’s never known the feeling of holding life. However, it wasn’t until just a few days ago that the desperate call for company was answered, the pitted sale sign finally freed from its staked prison.
Upon sight of the sign’s removal, Gojo’s imagination hasn’t found rest. He could begin to think of who his mystery neighbor could be—though, he hoped for a beautiful woman without the strings of a relationship or a family. He hoped for someone who was free for bonds of a family, could take in him for all he was, perfections and flaws alike.
Even now, he’s found himself whisked into the fantasy world of his living room window, watching the gathering clutter of brown boxes on the lawn of the neighboring house. Why, Gojo’s bubbling with an excitement so rich, he’s abandoned the breakfast he’s worked so hard to prepare. The icy hues of his eyes linger along every corner of the opposing house’s window, desperate to gain some insight into his soon-to-be acquaintance.
It’s almost unlike Gojo to express such childish whimsy, his fair skin roused with a cherry bliss. The highs of his cheeks and ears share in the same reality, dusted in its whimsical pink glow. The trilling giggles roll from his tongue, warming the air in its purity. He’s never found himself in such a state as this one, unsure of what really brews in the back of his mind.
He knows it’s something. It could be the joy of having a new face in the neighborhood, one who has yet to learn of his true natures. It could be the mystery clouding around said face, though he prays it’s the woman of his dreams. Needless to say, his reaction is a mindless one, the spill of words riddled with the confusion of intrigue and lust.
“God, I think I’m in love!”
A strained groan cuts through the air, Gojo’s uttering met with his own resistance. He’s reluctant to give into himself but can’t find anything to do except that. There’s a chance that his inspiring thoughts could be for naught, only to be met with the harsh reality awaiting him. The thick digits of his hand strum through the pure white locks of his hair, paired with a fatal sigh breaking the air.
Whether he is right or wrong. Gojo knows he alone stands in the way of discovering the truth. It’s because of that realization that he can swallow down his nerves—and pride—to make the first move in the unofficial game of cat and mouse, peeling away from his kitchen window and slipping out through his back door.
That lone thought fuels him, knowing that has to uncover the mystery before anyone else gets their hands on his muse. Gojo simply had to make the first impression, gathering his abundance of confidence to stroll through his front door, large hands sinking deep into the pockets of his navy slacks.
Dizziness dots his sights with patchy stars and all Gojo can do is bear the grave thumps of his heart clogging his sanities. “So much for that dopey build of confidence, huh Satoru?” the sole muttering to pass through Gojo’s lips as the fog of doubt doubles in its weight.
It’s the possibility that his hopes could be shattered upon the reveal of who now dons the title of his neighbor. He knows his whims can’t manifest into the woman of his dream but maybe the universe can smile down on him just this once…right?
Gojo peels his hands from his pockets, allowing for the pad of his digit to linger over the small button of a doorbell for a moment. He’s already come so far for second thought, being overwhelmed by the sinister blend of intrigue and lust flourishing all too well in his veins. The pearly whites of his teeth sink into the plush of his lips as he takes in a final breath, his finger pressing gently against the doorbell.
In a matter of seconds, the white door rips open from its post, revealing to Gojo a sight for sore eyes. It’s a dream turned into reality as the door rips from its post, all of his whims manifesting before his blown eyes.
Gojo’s breathing it all in, the woman leaning against the door’s frame with an arm braced for balance. He can’t begin to comprehend his thoughts, the composure he’s lost within moments gone to the wind. The heavy thumps of his heart chime at his ears once more the longer Gojo stares at your disinterest, a frigid wash of nerves licking across his skin.
There’s uncaringness riddled in the hues of your eyes—— the annoyance of interruption bleeding through to your spoken words.
“Listen, for the last time, I just moved here. I don’t wanna sign up for the—oh…hello there.”
Gojo’s still stifled in his thoughts, the presence of you rendering him numb. He had yet to speak without removing his eyes from you, scanning down the luscious curves hidden beneath the silk black robe. He clings to a scene quite particular in his favor,  the supple mounds of your cleavage spilling from the robe.
“Um…,” your tone soaked in tender concern, eyelids narrowing in sight at the stricken man, “You look a little red in the face, sir. Are you okay, do you need some water or–”
The sinister blend of intrigue and lust flourish all too well in his veins as Gojo’s hand rushes to cut the air, the brash attempt to hold contact with you.
“I’m Gojo Satoru, 28 years old and I live right there, across the street…from…you!” His cherry-tipped ears are met with the delight of a giggle, your soft palm slipping into his own.
“Nice to meet you, Gojo. I’m Y/N! Call me your new neighbor!”
Gojo nods at your words, battling his snowflake-like lashes. He’s managed to pull you into a senseless conversation about the neighborhood, linked hands losing their strength. Your burning questions should matter to him, but Gojo’s too enthralled at serving his palm passing glances, the tingling warmth dancing about his skin.
“Fuck, can’t wait to see if her hand’s this soft ‘round me. S’ soft and warm, just squeezing at every inch of me,” Gojo’s unfiltered thoughts wandering to unreached highs.
It’s lewd in the way Gojo thinks, his mind far more deranged than what he’s led to believe. A switch flicks in his brain, his pervasive tendencies edging to ruin what facade he’s worked so hard to withhold. He’s seconds into a cliché trial of small talk, but can’t ignore how puffy your lips get when his words pull a giggle from your chest, or how your fingers rattled along the frame mindlessly.
It has him pondering—imagining—how puffy your lips could become against his own, smothered in a mess of spit and sparse bites. His cock thumps at the lewd thought, hoping that one day your thumb would work the same mindless pattern along his blushed head as you do to the wooden frame.
And he has yet to address the way your legs cross in your leaned stance, his thoughts hinged on the bundle of warmth residing between the chub of your inner thighs. He, your robe highlighting the little bow of your panties imprinting itself through the thin robe. One wrong move and he’ll see it all, the fat lips of your cunt just barely fitted behind pesky sheets of fabric.
Yet he’s so desperate to maintain the peace that Gojo has no choice but to shed his immoral self, his laggard breaths setting onto a steady pace. A subtle shake of his head is all it takes for what moments he can get, following his way back into the closing conversation.
“Well, I hope to see you around, Gojo.”
Maddening is the only thing fit to describe Gojo’s state, desperately searching to earn a minute more of his presence. He simply couldn’t return home, at least not yet. How could he willingly turn back knowing that you—the woman of his dreams—existed within fifteen feet of his reach? He had to find a way to entrap you, ensure that he’d be the only man to ever enter the temple of your home.
“W-Wait! If you ever—and I mean ever— need me for an extra pair of hands, I’m right here…unless your husband isn’t okay with that?”
“Oh, that’s not gonna be possible…considering that I’ve been divorced for the past two years. But since you’re offering, I’ll call on you!”
Before the moment can end, Gojo digs into his back pocket, pulling his phone out as another conversational segway.
“Can I get your number then? Makes it easier for both you and me.”
Gojo watches as you take the phone from him, thumbs typing away at the ten digits needed. He studies the focus that shrouds your features, imprinting every detail he can take. The gentle coo of your voice breaks his concentration, does eyes of a frigid blue falling in line with you.
“Here you go, hopefully, you’ll get a call soon…Gojo.”
All you do is give Gojo a giddy smile as you place the device back into his palm, before waving goodbye, bringing the door in delayed haste. You don’t know what you’ve done by revealing that detail to Gojo, the man stiff with an impressional glee.
The limited interaction plagues Gojo’s mind for the day’s remainder, the evening rolling around through his feverish daze. It’s been ensnared in his brain longer than he’s anticipated, his lewd thoughts following him into the night’s shower.
Water droplets bloom against his skin, washing away the snowy suds of soap and a sliver of his day’s sins. Gojo believed he had a handle on himself as he showered—until the white noise of silence leads his troubled mind to stray. He can’t get over how perfect you are, your smile, your voice, down to how the robe just barely protected you from him. He’d be lying if he didn’t want to see more, remembering how his digits twitch with the absurdity to strip your body down to the beauty of bare skin.
It’s such a thought that Gojo couldn’t help himself, his cock strained with a painful urge. Each droplet of the showerhead’s water struck him heavier than the last. The whimpers that rip from his chest are nothing short of chilling disgust. He didn’t want to lace his shaky hand around the thick tip, sealing the spry nerves in an etching fist.
His need for release has him so weak, his body trusting the brace of his forehead against the gray tile. He can’t ignore the ghastly sensitivity his body is forced to endure. From the building steam clouding his tiled chamber, his robust shower gel slicking him a cold sheen, he’s nearly crumbled beneath his own mundane actions.
Did you have to dress so freely, innocently provoking the hellish terror residing deep inside Gojo’s stomach. The pulling gush has yet to suspend, its heat swelling at his balls. He can feel the bloat of cum growing heavier than he’s ever bared.
That’s why Gojo brings his eyes to a close, filthy scenes obscuring his mind with images of you naked on his bed. He can see everything so clearly it’s utterly shameful—those legs of yours parted just for him, dainty fingers working hard at the cute bulb of your clit. Gentle, soft enough to coax shivering pretty moans from your chest. Gojo’s mentally noting how your touch trails between your folds to your glossy slit, two fingers barely fitting inside.
The tips of his digits tease the inflamed head of his cock with whispy swipes, foamy bubbles of pre trickling past his worked knuckles. Yet the crippling sensation isn’t enough for Gojo, bringing the full brute of his strength to strum about his cock. He doesn’t even have time to admire how his veins rise to meet his touch, the overwhelming rush of blood causing his head to spin.
“Just like that, k-keep going,—fuck, you’re so tight!”
He’s hung on the sight of you, weakened hips hoisting into the air with the swift delves of your fingers scarcely stretching your slit. There’s no comparison in his mind, knowing that your digits could never reach as deep as his cock could. You’re just barely scratching the surface of your body as far as he believes, leaving so much untouched yet so much to be discovered. He can almost hear you too, his mind conjuring the sweetest coos he has but to indulge.  
At that alone, Gojo’s body falls into a shuddering hunch, his back folding at the breathless stir in his lungs. His slender hand lays waste to his poor cock, careless strides roaming from base to tip. To Gojo’s demise, it’s all in vain. He can’t handle the recoils of his strokes, the insufferable drag towards the bed of messy white hair freeing breathless moans from his chest. Even the force he strived to maintain shattered in his hands, bare thighs bearing the rippling waves stinging at his balls.
“You’re gonna keep playing with that pretty pussy fr’ me, right? I—fuck—need you to, Baby…‘m so close!”
His precum’s sticky when it spreads further across the expanse of his cock, the vile squelches echoing in his ear. He only seems to be growing more within his hand, bigger, thicker, and farther from his envied high.
“Fuckfuckfuck, I wanna cum for you, Y/N! S’ bad! Wanna watch it drip everywhere, your tits, cute funny, all over your pussy! I j-just wann—“
The rushing spill of white rinses over Gojo’s hand, the beads of water rising away his sins. Through the huffs of his emptied lungs, he stands in dismay, watching every drop wither into the abyss of nothing. His hand softly smacks the wall of the shower, quivering lips muttering his final thoughts.
“You weren’t supposed to waste it, Princess. All my hard work…gone like that.”
Regret sets in as a sigh empties from Gojo’s chest, his weary hand turning the shiny valve. The water’s suspension seals the last of his misfortune, the man returning to reality when he steps from the glass chamber. Disgust doesn’t resonate with Gojo as he peers into his mirror, imprints of steam drifting across the glass. It’s a passing glance but one he’s dangerously proud of amidst strolling towards his dimmed bedroom.
His digits reach for the towels he’s laid across the mahogany duvets, the contrasting fibers grazing across his skin. Gojo’s inches from it before a sight like no other catches his greedy eye, eyelids parting in pure shock.
To his unfortunate luck, the windows of his bedroom peer straight into yours—one free of any coverage as of now.
It’s a sight he knows he’s too blessed for, your body sheathed in the plush towel of white. It’s clingy, hinged on every curve of your figure. A squint is forced upon Gojo as he focuses on you, watching the faint sheet of fluff unravel at a single tug. Lust consumes him, clouded hues gawking at the plump swells of your chest and the curves of your physique, all set in his untimely direction.
Gojo’s hand settles over his chest, hardened pads drifting down to his flittering abs. He can’t believe it, how dumb you could be to allow a man like him to gaze at the divine physique of your body. A feeble pry claws at Gojo’s fading will, pulling him to fall onto his bed.
He gives you one final glance before whimpering out his distressing plea.
“Look at you, so close but so far…’nd you’re so perfect.”
His hand slips into the top drawer of his bedside, the shameful shell of his beloved pocket pussy falling into his grasp. Was it wrong of Gojo to get off to his explicit thought once more? Even going as far as to use what scene he had of you for entertainment?
Why...of course not.
His digits race to greet his mouth, the makeshift cup pooling with his spit. All it takes is a single rushed stroke to coat his length in the threaded gloss, eagerly nuzzling the slit of the toy over his own.
He’s swift to feed the growing impatience, pulling the toy to loosely hang around the tip of his cock. Sensitivity aided in his hand, the stings of the recent orgasm lingering at the forefront of his brain. Everything’s still clouded to Gojo, the blinding pulls along his girth to bring him to the present.
It soon became a harsh pill to swallow, that pit in his stomach deepening. He’s studying how the toy’s lips spread around his cock, the scene shrouding a haze of disgust over him.  It’s nothing as he wishes it to be, no warmth, no gush, no heavenly moans begging for him to slow down. The feeling’s merely sinking deeper in Gojo’s mind, his body falling flat onto the bed at last.
“S-Shit…it’s not tight enough—fuck!”
His grip couldn’t afford to be any more endearing, his throbbing cock engulfed in a numbing squeeze. In truth, Gojo wasn’t sure what he was so desperate for, giving aim to an unsure goal. His hand could squeeze, swivel, and pull at his shaft all they wanted, but nothing can ever compare to the anticipation of having you clamped around him, struggling to take each fattened inch. He has yet to comprehend what has his hips jolting to meet the toy’s sad excuse for a cervix, or why his lust for you brought along gravitating rivers of sweat to lave across his scorned body.
“I-I can’t even– it’s no good, ‘m not gonna cum when the real thing is right there,” the summoning of Gojo’s desperate call to awaken. He’s aggravated with urgency, anxious to cum, but all the while, can’t commit to chasing the sweet high. The wretched pocket pussy gets paid a mere gaze, only to be ripped off his twitching cock with strings of glimmering precum in tow.
He wants to be the bigger person, to shut his own blinds out of respect...then again, Gojo isn’t that kind in both morals or character. Laying in his own misery, he stole a few gaps at you, grinning at how the night’s attire of a white tank and pink panties suited you best.
Amidst his gaudy oglings, sleep edges at his mind as heavy eyelids follow in the sun’s setting path. Gojo giggles to himself before mouthing off once more, ensuring that his mischievous dreams, and desires would soon manifest in his hands.
“Pray for the day I get my hands on you, Y/N. I swear I’m never letting go.”
Those words loom over Gojo’s head for the duration of the week, serving as a reminder to him. Why, he has to be on his best behavior for you, pitting all his perverted mannerisms to rot. During the day, he catches you on your daily expedition to the mailbox for idle chatter. It’s a fleeting few minutes but Gojo learns more and more about you. Within the days he’s caught your attention, he’s learned about your occupation, your favorite foods, and films.
He’s saving all these trivial exchanges for a certain day—like today— for when Gojo crosses your path again, a day written by the Gods themselves.
Since he had the chance to meet you, Gojo’s thoughts have revolved around you and only you. Your smile, your laugh, the way your nose scrunches while deep in thought—all of it, Gojo’s been hung up on. His days are spent on you, thoughts and imagination dedicated to you and you alone. He can’t help but reminisce on the minutes he’d spend with you, the mere trade of words igniting a hidden facet in his heart.
He’s unsure of what to call it, the very thing that hinders his day-to-day life as of late. He’s too intrigued to call it a crush but wouldn’t dare tread the lines of obsession. It’s a conflicting matter for one such as him, one that tests every fiber in Gojo’s being. 
He’s never been so attentive to someone other than himself before, his interest in you surpassing the field of lust alone. He can spend hours just thinking about you, how you smiled at him the first time with such care, how you made him melt beneath your gaze.
He isn’t one to form connections, attachment never did serve the man well. Though, at the face of your arrival to the neighborhood, Gojo’s once paraded lifestyle now hints at the inevitable downfall. He’s suddenly frantic for your attention, yet shied away from his sprouts of self-doubt. He’s afraid to admit just how much he wants you, to have you around him at every waking moment.
For now, he resorts to the method he knows best, taking to his living room window to catch every rare appearance you’d make. Whether it be you walking down to the mailbox, discarding the next round of moving boxes, or simply stepping out to watch the sunset, Gojo sought to capture it all.
But today brings its own fruits of bliss, providing Gojo with the hand-delivered game of chance. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, you hoisting the next batch of trash out to the front lawn.
Yet, there’s something different in him, Gojo pinned to his favorite place amongst his living room window. Sure, he’s observing as you drag the next ensemble of boxes behind your heels, but that’s not what has his attention piqued.
He should be used to it by now, all the short outfits you’ve flaunted to the outside world. But nothing could compare to the pure lamb white tank and matching skirt adorning your curves. He can’t seem to take his eyes away from the cute pout breaks across your visage. 
A furrowed brow, lips fostering a glossy pout and puffy cheeks limp with fatigue all entice Gojo to lengths even he can’t comprehend. He can tell you need some guidance, someone to tell you where to go from there.
Gojo’s more inclined to stand to his feet now, strolling to his front door once again. The sweep of deja vu settles onto him is chilling, the same cycle of steps repeating themselves. Just like the day he’d recognized your presence, Gojo can’t do anything but approach you with careful steps.
He’s brought to the scene in the lewdest of ways—you bent over the growing batch of folded cardboard. It doesn’t help that his ear picks up on every feeble whimper that escapes from your mouth, the clear frustration written in your voice. He is undoubtedly without shame as his gaze graces your body, grinning at how your panties tease past the edge of your skirt.
You’re so cute like this, too caught up in your own little world to notice Gojo’s staggering build towering behind you. He could stay like this forever, watching as you continuously shift through the clutter.
As pure as it’s intended, sin never lurks too far when it comes to Gojo. His hands slip into his pockets without delay, stretching the fabric of his navy slacks to conceal the growing bulge. It’s not his fault your skirt falls so short of you, but he isn’t one to complain either. The sight only triggers that devious side of him, firing all sorts of thoughts to cloud his tainted brain.
Gojo knows he can’t get ahead of himself, not when he still has to maintain his fragile impression around you. All it takes for a single huff of air to crowd Gojo’s lungs for him to speak at last, the spiteful smirk embedded behind his words.
“Quite the mess you’ve got here. The recycling truck only comes once every other week, y’know.”
The bit of insight he offers is enough to pull your attention elsewhere, your head whipping around to meet his lidded regards.
“Oh, hi Gojo! I know, right?! It’s even more of a mess inside too!”
Gojo takes the chance to close the distance, leaning over your hunched form gradually. His head falls into a timely tilt, allowing him to breathe in the shift in nature befalling you. Suddenly, ripples of blinks overtake your eyelids, lips faltering to hold fast to the pretty pout. He seals your brash flusters with the soft hum of his voice, the warmth of his breath fanning across the tip of your nose.
“Well…aren’t you gonna ask me for help? I do remember saying I’d be here to give you an extra pair of hands for all your…problems.”
There’s a silence falling amongst you both, the eyes of you two falling into a blurred line. Gojo’d be lying if he said he didn’t succumb to you too, the exterior of smug pride crumbling with each second. Sure, Gojo has you stifled in your steps, forced to endure the sweltering heat of his stare—but he’s the one that suffers in the end. Waves of heat strum throughout his body, laying claim to the highs of his cheeks and ears alike. His chest lags in the slightest of breaths, the uneven pace coming to light.
His ears perk at the aimless whimpers spilling from your mouth, ensuring that your body shares in the same symptoms—uneased breaths, flares of heat, and uncertainty pitted deep within your belly. He wants to reach out, hoping his hand could bring you down from the fluttering gates of nirvana. It takes for the tiny squeak of your voice’s inquiry to break the fallen silence.
“Can you…help me fix the inside…please? I’d appreciate it so much!”
“ ‘Course I will! Just lead the way, beautiful!”
You offer Gojo a pleasant nod before turning from him, dainty hands clutching at your chest. Within a matter of moments, he’d so easily brought you to your knees. From his sly grin, his overwhelming allure, down to the very way he seems to keep a specific look for you, Gojo could just as easily have you wrapped around his finger should he say the words.
“Over there, I need the most help in the kitchen,” your hand pointing in the appropriate direction as you close the door behind him.
Gojo encounters your sights for a brief moment more, a toothy grin spreading itself thin as he explores your home. Finally, he has you to himself, free from any wandering eyes to be found along the block.
“It’s nice in here, Y/N. I see you like the finer things, just something else we have in common.”
“Thanks, but wait till everything’s in place, finish cleaning and arranging…it’s gonna be great!”
You pay Gojo one final glare of amusement, the teasing stares pulling you both towards the unkempt vast of the kitchen. There’s a certain set of cabinets that call your attention, the blanched wood doors wide in welcomes your gaze. Your finger points to the plates before you, recalling the details of Gojo’s task.
“Since you’re tall, can you put the plates up in the cabinet? I’ll put the pots and pans in the lower cabinets.”
A cheeky smile is all it takes for Gojo to oblige, breaking his looming stare to tend to his assignments. Though, as much as Gojo wants to help you out, he truly can’t. Within the placement of one plate, his focus finds means elsewhere, those blue eyes hinged on you beside him.
How could he carry on such a leisure task when he has you so close to him, the curve of your ass just hugging at the thighs of his pants. There’s so much to unfold and too much for him to ignore—the bend consuming your body revealing more than he deserves. The warmth of your skin pecks at his skin, a thrill of heat surfacing to your touch. 
You’re soft against him, brushing a silky plush donning the title of your skin. He just doesn’t get it, why must your skirt be so short teasing the whims of a man like himself? He wants to look away, savor the time he’s been given with you thoughtfully…
But damn it all when you dip forward to better your reach, the silhouette of your cunt sucking through the thin inseam of your black lace panties. For a moment—just a brief moment—Gojo’s blessed with the delicate curves of your clothed pussy. 
It’s tantalizing to him, pulling his mind to an unmatched euphoria. His mind is swift to flood with his lewd thoughts, hoping that one day he hopes to endure the forbidden sight of your cunt’s lips splitting around his cock.
“Oh fuck!” his inner thoughts coming to light. He’s swift to conceal the slip of his words with a cough, the deep draw straining his throat. It’s enough for you to jolt, bouncing back onto your feet to tend to Gojo.
“Gojo! Wait, I’ll get you a cup of wat—”
Before you can even think, the brash pads of Gojo’s hand lace your dainty fingers into his own. He pulls your hand to the plush pink curves of his lips, placing a lingering peck along your laxed knuckles. His free hand slips to fill the small of your back, pulling you to crash against the chest of his black sweater.
“Well, well well, look at you, racing around to help little ole’ me…just knew you were perfect fr’ me.”
His eyes flicker over you once more, a rush of thrill licking at his skin. The question he has is heavy, sits a little too heavy on his chest. That’s why he has to say it—to free himself of his one true desire.
“Let me take you out…tonight. I can show you around town, show you all my favorite spots and more.”
“A date? Already? We just met, Gojo…I don’t…”
A cast of hesitation settles onto you both, a tension so thick that neither of you could withdraw. Gravity condemns you to his side, body falling prey to Gojo’s allure. There’s something about the man that compels you, the saccharine tone of persuasion dripping from his voice. He could put you in a trance and you’d be at his every whim, that alone serving as your conclusion.
“Okay, pick me up around seven. I’m kinda tired of being surrounded by so many boxes and dust.”
Gojo presses a final kiss onto your knuckles before breaking away from you, an indescribable elation written across his features.  
“I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll make the night worth your while.”
With that, Gojo left from your side, unable to wipe the stupid grin from his face. A date with the woman of his dreams, the thought alone pulling nervous flutters from his heart.
Through a passing glance, he manages to catch a glimpse of the digital clock embedded in the stovetop: 4:30 pm.
From the moment he left your home and entered his own, ensuring your good favor was all that weighed heavy on Gojo’s mind. He simply had to win you over, knowing that you too shared some interest in him. 
It’s the first time in a long time that Gojo’s felt this way, endowed to someone other than himself. In Gojo’s eyes, to have you is to have all the riches in the world. He knows there’s something so different about you, something that sets his body aflame.
That’s why in the hours he has left to prepare for the impromptu date, he puts in all the effort to become the best version of himself. From grooming his closet for the finest outfit—stone gray slacks, a mauve silk button, and his favorite set of leather black loafers— picking up a bouquet of white roses for good measure, and rushing to arrange reservations at the nearest restaurant a few block away, Gojo knew he’d have to use all the tricks in his arsenal to eventually call you his one day.
By the time seven did set in, Gojo brought himself to stand right outside your door, wearing that stupid smile once more. The nerves have yet to settle beneath his fair skin, flairs of red ripping across his cheeks and ears alike. Before he can bring his finger to press the small button, deja vu befalls Gojo again.
He’s welcomed by the sight of you, dressed in an orange satin mini dress. His eyes hang upon every inch of you, the dress’ low cut neckline especially appealing to Gojo’s taste, coaxing the corners of his lips to tease with a smirk.
He hands you the bundle of florals carefully, allowing his fingers to graze along your own for a moment. Gojo lets his head fall into a tilt, plush lips of pink curving as he watches your expression bloom into a whimsical grim.
“Don’t you look perfect? The color suits you, Gorgeous.”
“Aw, why thank you! But first…tell me where we’re going…please?”
“Like I said, I wanna show you around. There’s a nice restaurant a few blocks from where we’re walking to, I think you’ll like it.” He lets his hand fall from the bouquet to brush along your waist, the mere weight of his touch drawing you to rest against his chest. The pinning force melds within his heart as he’s finally introduced to your body’s warmth, a subtle sigh escaping from his lungs.
“Let’s get goin’ I wanna spend as much time with you as I can…y’know, being a gentleman and all.”
The words Gojo utters aren’t so much spoken for your liking, as they are to him—a reminder of the persona he wears tonight. And for the night, he swore to maintain his composure, to keep his dangerous thoughts away in order to hit every mark with you.
A final glance of exchanges takes its place between you both before the journey begins, Gojo leading with you by his side.
“Gojo…who lives in that house?” you hand motioning towards the passing house. Gojo’s eyes fall into a squint, a scoff trailing from out his lips at the realization.
“Oh...that’s Toji Fushiguro. I heard he’s in his forties and lives alone in the house. But, he’s someone you should stay away from, especially when you’ve got me,” he teases, using all his efforts to distract you from Toji’s burning stare.
Your eyes linger on him for a moment longer, such imbues of green searing into your memory. He’s not one to forget, the man lounging upon his porch with a smoke in hand. His eyes are murky with an unseen objective, the lingering leer fading away with a salacious wink doused in trouble. A gasp escapes from your lips at his notion, intrigue bubbling high among your sentiments.
“He seems interesting, though…” the last review you give Toji before he’s out of sight.
It isn’t long before you reach the restaurant, the soft twinkle of lights meeting your eye. The quaint establishment holds no more than a few, the other patrons spread thin across the restaurant floor. You and Gojo found yourselves towards the back, a table free from the immediate presence of others. 
The tension between you both is one of a thickened atmosphere, both of you itching to solve the mystery of each other. Rather than ask Gojo your burning question, you wait an assured time without interruption, the opportunity presenting itself minutes after the waiter receives the orders of dinner.
You find yourself pulled towards Gojo, his speechlessness creating an aura of enticement for your favor. Your eyes suffer the weight of intrigue, eyelids heavy with an underlying taunt of lust. Your hands fold beneath your chin for support, the gradual silence coming to an end.
“Tell me Gojo, why are you single? You’re such a handsome man with a really smooth personality, it honestly shocks me that you are.”
Gojo’s hand rises from the white tablecloth, slender rubbing at the point of his chin. It’s a question he’s addressed but has yet to confront the clauses of such an inquiry. He knows the answer through and through but knows he’ll scare you—the woman he’s been waiting for— away. But he prays you’ll understand him, understand why he is the way he is and accept all that came with him. He gives you one wavering glance before replying, a hefty sigh guiding the spill of words.
“Why am I single?...it’s more than what you’d believe, Princess. I’m not all that…accepted, to put it shortly. And I can’t be with someone who doesn’t accept all of me, right?”
Eager to close the distance, Gojo pits himself inches from you, a lazy stare lurking across your placid visage. You’re eager for an answer, that much is enlightened to Gojo through the thick shroud of silence. He grants your burning question with another facer to be uncovered, the question rolling off his tongue with sinful ease.
“Can you accept all of me? All it takes is a date to know if you wanna put up with someone…so does that same ideal—Oh, look at that, I dropped my fork.”
You watch as Gojo sinks beneath his seat towards the burgundy carpet. All’s quiet for the seconds your date spends hidden underneath the table…all until the vibrations of your phone earn your distant attention. Bringing the call to your ear, your voice leads the conservation with a shushed giggle, your head tilting in a blissful delight.  
“Is there a reason you’re calling me from under the table, Gojo?”
“Of course there’s a reason, I want you to hear everything I have to say…”
The tips of Gojo’s digits brush along the prominent curve of your thigh. A heft of warmth follows his breath as he inches towards you, brimming your skin with a chilling lick of desire. It’s almost embarrassing for you to admit, the swirling flame crowding at the dormant bulb of your clit. There’s a prowling heat that consumes your cunt, the plunging weight wedged between your poor walls. A bare squeak rips from your lungs, only to fade beneath the barrage of Gojo’s speech.
“You asked why I’m single, it’s true that no woman has really accepted me…but there’s more to it. I’m a mess when it comes to love, I let lust run as high as my heart and no one has really kept up with me because of that. As for you, my pretty girl…you’re so cute, so perfect for me to ruin. From the moment we met, I just knew you were the woman of my dreams. There’s something hidden deep within you—and I wanna be the one to bring it out.”
“So then, you wanna–”
“I wanna lose myself in you. Touch you, kiss you, call you mine, I just want you so bad it hurts.”
You can’t comprehend how fast Gojo’s fingers sneak beneath your dress to tug at your panties. Then again, you can’t begin to comprehend how fast you’ve fallen at his pleas, your thighs breaking from the harsh clasp for his head to fill the space. It’s the anticipation that has you this wet, what has your skin inflamed with spry nerves, the thrill of Gojo indulging in your pussy within the company just surrounding the promiscuous atmosphere.
The plea laced behind his pants brought along a course of thirst throughout your body. You can’t wait for it, the soft heat of his tongue dragging through your folds, strides of spit melting with your nectar, the moans pried from the depths of his chest. The thin cloth suddenly grows to be an annoyance, your hips bucking to wedge the cinched waistband from its post.
“Please…please, let me do it. I just wanna make you feel good, just me and me only.
“Fuck, Gojo, I–”
At the sound of your voice, Gojo finally allows himself to falter in your stead, shedding the kind persona he’d donned for the night. His fingers tug the pesky panties of yours down your legs, the limp white cotton bunched at your ankles. His touch drifts further across your body, a gentle rattle against your skin forcing your thighs apart.
Gojo can’t resist it any longer, the vast of his palm breaking from your thigh. The tips of fingers trace the curves of your cunt’s lip in tease, parting the plushy mounds to reveal the ness awaiting him. The sticky unclasp echoes in his ears, a hiss of resistance cutting through the air.
He’s met by the salacious mess of your pussy, the puffy lips breaking from the sticky hold. It’s more than he expected, the glossy strands of your essence dripping from the hood of your clit. The patterns dresses your pussy in a delicate manner, fragile strands illuminating your folds. Yet what teases at that ache deep within his stomach was your slit, soapy flutterings gasping to be filled. The threads string across the silky sheets are diamondlike, glimmering even in the dimmest of light.  
“Look at how much of a mess you made fr’ me, Baby—fuck!— clit’s so damn cute under my fingers. Bet you wanna cum real bad…but not yet. Not until I play with you, alright?”
All you can do is whimper out your transgressions to Gojo, the cry of urgency muted by your cupping hand. He’s so gentle with his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers drifting along the glistening folds to reach your clit. He’s so gentle that it’s teasing, laying a fluttering trail to swirl about the pearl. Why, he’s so gentle that it's taunting, your hips reeling from his touch. Yet, all you earn is a huff from Gojo through the phone, his sloppy grip bracing your hip.
“Don’t do that, just gonna make you cum harder now, y’know.”
You don’t know it just yet, that side of Gojo that can alone uphold his honor. The side that keeps his word, ensuring that he’ll follow through on his part. The same principle applies to you all the same. It’s why he can bring his tongue to your frail slit, dragging that slippery ingraining stride through your folds—just to strike the raw bulb of your clit. The whimpers, gasps, and moans all fill Gojo’s ear, spitefully pawing at his ego. It fuels him to pursue further endeavors to test you.
“So pretty, Baby. Gonna let me kiss that pretty clit too, aren’t you?” his voice tapering across your roused skin. “Now relax, let me suck your clit, ‘kay?”
His words pull at your body’s temperament, releasing a wave of frigid heat to shroud your pussy. The plush mounds of his lips lay soft kisses against your clit, teasingly sealing the hood between each peck. At first, it isn’t noticeable, just the puffy seal of his lips enveloping the perked bud. 
The gradual pull of your clit that alerts you, the streamlined squelching suckles pinned on the raw nerves. He’s even managed to make a mess of you, returning spools of spit dripping from his pursed hold over your clit.
The slobbering unclasp of his lips chime through the call, the lewd symphony strumming through your lips. His fingers cup at your cunt, parted digits placing gentle pulsing squeezes along your clit. Gojo pulls back for a moment, hungered eyes taking in the beautiful fixture he’d made out of your pussy.
“Mhm, that’s it, good girl, relax fr’ me. I think I’m falling in love with your pussy—tastes so good.”
“Oh m-my God!! Fuck Gojo, y-you can’t say it like that!”!  
“Aww, but it’s the truth. Your pussy s’ good and fuck… twitching against my tongue like that. You’re so needy, Angel…gonna make you cum real soon.”
Just as he promised, the final clasp of his swollen lips brings about your downfall, the mind-shattering orgasm milking at your worth. A chain reaction breaks across your body, claiming your lungs in a breathless gasp. It’s heavy, the insufferable burden pulling the hull of your chest to the surface. Your legs know no bounds either, the innermost plush threatening to smother Gojo.
He repels himself from you before harm could arise, dragging the flat of his tongue along his plump lips. Pride boils at the forefront of Gojo’s mind as he returns to his seat, wearing a nonchalant smile in your presence. He knows what’s passing through that fuzzy mind of yours, the hues of lust and curiosity melding into one. The look of widened eyes, high eyebrows, and an agape mouth tell Gojo all he needs to know as he sets his phone down onto the white tablecloth: you’re curious.
The questions of what he can do to you fill up your mind, latent desires grooming at the surface of your skin. Gojo’s awakened something inside you, something that can’t quite be transcribed into words. It’s heat, a warmth so fierce that it grows with impatience. 
The longer you return his gaze, the heavier the flames weigh on your mind. It entraps your entire body in a trap of heat, the inescapable urge swirling deep within your shuddering tummy. Suddenly, a single demand falls from your lips without regret in sight.
“Gojo, I really…um…I really wanna go now.”
“Aww, but we haven’t even eaten yet. I guess we can—
“Take it to go? We can do all that at the reception table. So can we…go…now?”
Gojo falls back in his seat as he stares at you, hiding a growing grin behind with the single thought looming above.
He’s got you. Exactly where he wants you, a hot and rowdy mess falling before his very eyes.
In response to his goal being met, Gojo stands up straight from his spot on the chair. His hand falls from its hold as a makeshift shield, presenting both his beckoning call and grin to you.
“C’mon, let’s get you home. I’d hate to keep you waiting.”
Leading you back home was nothing short of thrilling to Gojo. He studies you with a watchful eye, how you dropped your walls for the likes of him. It’s not vulnerability in the slightest but a taste of a life he’s always sought for. And here you come, providing him an earnest peek at that softer, susceptible side of you. 
Your touch welcomes him, warms his heart to a point as he bears your dainty hands clinging to his sleeve. He’s exposed to this soft side of you by the soft nudge of your kisses, his cheek covered in trailing pecks as he struggles to pay for the night’s incomplete outing.
Gojo can’t help but fall prey to you, his heart set aflutter with skipping pangs. He finds himself returning your endearing favors, catching your lips in a kiss every so often. His touch vacates anything formal, fitted perfectly along your lower back to squeeze at the swell of your ass.
All the formalities Gojo should have maintained fell from his arsenal with every passing minute it takes to reach your home, the quaint house welcoming both your heavy hearts. He’s clinging to you, a hand pulsing at the plush of your waist and the other occupied with the bag of forgotten dinner.
“Do you…” Gojo begins, his smirked lips curling at the shell of your ear. “Need help with the keys?
His digits drift along the flushed skin of your forearm, lacing around your palm to aid in the envied endeavor.
“Just one last turn and…that’s the click. Now…push open that door if you don’t want the neighbors to see.”
Your body’s compelled to fall to Gojo’s words, entering through to the door with crazed haste. As the door falls shut, there’s a break in the tension, a moment for your mind to return to some state of coherency. Your first instinct is to walk, to separate for just a step. But it’s his swiftness you overlook, how quick he comes over to tower over you. 
The hull of Gojo’s chest harbors a heavy tune, scattered breaths melding through you. His arm travels across your hips, laxed fingers creating lazy pleats along the hem of your dress.
“No, no, no…I finally have you to myself, Pretty girl. Where do you think you’re goin’ ?”
Your eyes cower with obligation dotting the blurred hues of your eyes. You can’t refuse Gojo, not with the pulling attraction guiding your heart thus far. Especially when he towers above you like this, the heat of his encasing you whole. There’s almost a compelling force, something bringing you onto your toes to close the distance. Your lips just barely brush past his own, the puffy heat teasing you with an invite.
“I’m…—!”
Gojo’s lips meet your own, the intoxicating smother of heat exhausting remnants of your energy. It’s intoxicating, how fixed you’ve become to his touch. There isn’t a moment to falter. Your lips cling to his own, such supple curves desperate to match the careful weaves he guides you through.
Languid trudges usher you and Gojo to the living room, smothered bodies collapsing onto the black leather cushions. He pulls you to warm his lap, hands steady along your hips. He’s so insistent to close any distance that keeps you both apart. It’s why his hands are sent clutch at your dress, tugging at the silk to pull right over your head.
Clothes continue to sprinkle across the room, piles upon piles falling to the abyss surrounding the lucid scene. His lips return to adorn your body, mindless pecks falling into the crook of your neck. His kisses bring about a rouse beneath your skin, each press of his lips earning a rush of blood to greet him. The trails of his affections fall prey to the valley of your chest.
Truth be told, he’s been dying for this, to touch you in ways only he could. His digits cup at the delicate swells of your tits, entrapping the hardened peaks in between.
“You’re so beautiful, Baby. So fucking beautiful.”
His eyes refuse to falter from yours, clinging to the sight of ecstasy as his lips seals your nipple away with the expanse of his mouth. A moan rips from Gojo’s chest, deeming him to have a senseless sense of self. Control isn’t something attainable in his current state, the man drunk off you. 
Everything about you is heavenly, your warmth, your company, the pretty whimpers you make as Gojo’s tongue whisks around the puffy peaks lazily. He’s squeezing your tits softly, serving as his reminder of just how explicit everything’s become.
It’s not until you find yourself relaxing in his hold that you realize just how much you do to Gojo, bare lips of your cunt splitting around something hard.
“You’re so hard, ‘Toru. Does it hurt?”
“Mhm,” he hums, breaking away from the slobbering mess he’s made of your tits. “I really wanna feel those lips ‘round me, can you do that for me? Please?”
You offer him an enthusiastic nod, sinking onto your knees before his trembling thighs. The plush espresso carpet cradles the curve of your knees as you adjust, placing your lithe fingers along his abre thigh. But it’s the sight before you that stirs the brew of butterflies deep within your belly, coaxing a piercing shock to widen your hazy eyes.
Gojo’s big. Not just in his towering stature but right between his legs all the same. Your eyes are welcomed by the pretty plush of his cock, the tanned fat sitting pretty against his thigh with miserable want. The girthy shaft blooms with inflamed hues of green and blue. The thickest of veins are free from such imbues, too roused to don any single tint. Your eyes trail to the head of his cock, greeted by the bullying fury of reds. The tip weeps an uncontrolled sob of greed, the blushed adorning a smear ring of his precum.
Your lips falter at the scene, a pool of spit budding just beyond sight. Gojo’s hand cups the back of your neck, rattling a gentle pace of encouragement to soothe your nerves. It’s kind encouragement, his efforts allowing for your lips to part for his girth. A gentle kiss lays upon his slit, staining the pout in his essence. The throbbing pulse of his cock is hot against your lips, beckoning you to place yet another peck.
Your mouths with every bit to be covered, gradually slipping the fat head to sit snug between your suckling lips. It’s soft, pulling at the mere surface of the swelled tip. Your tongue even peeks for a moment, wavering along the underside all too teasingly in faint swipes. Gojo winces at the sensation, tingling with a striking thrill. His fingers find work at the nape of your neck once more, playing an uncoordinated tune upon your skin.
“You…You know what to do, take it all in your mouth fr’ me, Baby.”
Mindlessly, you lose to his imminent demand, your eyes suffering under the influencing weight. Your head strums along Gojo’s length without care, the throbbing head pecking at the back of your throat. The sensation’s nothing short of brutal, brash strikes threatening to pursue deeper lengths. Your ears help ease what coherency remains, hinged on the pretty crumbling moans ripping from his chest.
Gojo’s hot-blooded spree of lust carried you through the consistent hollows of your lungs, begging for just a lick of air. He’s desperate for it, to use your poor mouth like his favorite toy— so warm, wet and even tighter than his fist could ever begin to achieve.
But little does Gojo know, it’s more of a strain on you than him.
It’s a struggle, a harsh journey to endure to please Gojo. He’s far from the concept of silence, but there’s more dying to fly off his chest. He’s feeling it, courtesy of his jutting hips reckoning to reach the plump cling of your lips. The pitiful whimpers tell you all that’s known about his crumbling state. You want to deliver that taste of irresistible heaven to him.
Your hands migrate from the loose casing formed around his cock to his thighs, the pads of your digits settling into place. The thoughts swirl at the forefront of your mind. It had to be thoughtless, free of any worry, care, or restraint. If you faltered for even a moment, the teasing would be ripped right from the hands of Gojo.
You pull your lips to rest at the fat head of his cock, head tilting to greet his drowsy eyes. He’s high off his anticipation. Sweat works across his body, bringing the white locks of his hair to stick to his forehead. But more attaches onto Gojo’s fleeting persona, the glints of his own vulnerability coming to light. It’s present in how he looks at you, lust melded with the forbidden glints of genuine peeking through the haze. A chilling sight at first glance, a forced endeavor to endure at his whim.
His hands cup at the chub of your cheeks as an unknown comfort, his thumbs swiping at the polished highs with a look of intrigue. His tongue curls with a lax pull, putting the ramble of words to flood the air.
“W-why are you so…fucking pretty?... Hm? Can’t even look at me straight b-but you look s’ perfect just like this.”
A muffled moan vibrates about the inflamed crown from your throat, barely processing the praise to rattle off Gojo’s tongue. Your mind’s numb to it, the brisk descent of your lips down Gojo’s cock. Bubbly foams of spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth, only to be brushed away by the lewd gurgle brewing in your throat.
 It’s sloppy and messy, taking all of him in one swift notion. And you know it’s working, your eyes peering up at Gojo Through the thick gather of your lashes. He’s singing a song so passionate it simply can’t be hidden, head nicked between his shoulder blades with the ball of his adam’s apple sent awry.
Gojo doesn’t mean to be mean, ripping his cock from your jaw destructively. He’s sure you aren’t aware of all you’ve done to him in a matter of seconds, your tongue nipping at the heavy bloat of his balls. A few moments longer and he’s sure you would’ve milked him of all he’s had. He hopes you’ll appreciate it as an apology, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. 
He pulls you onto his lap, digits latching onto your chin once more. He doesn’t take a second to acknowledge your ruined state, crashing his lips against your own. It’s heavy, the press so rich it’s almost dizzying. His tongue curls along with yours, draping the flat laggardly. That’s all he does before breaking from your lips, falling back onto the couch’s plush backing.
“S-Shit…did such a good job…I want you—really fucking want you— to use me, ride me, fuck that pretty lil’ pussy on me!”
“O-Okay…just let me do it.”
A small hand disappears between the clash of bodies, in your palm holds the head of Gojo’s cock. He’s wet, slick with the fruit of your labor. It’s just enough to press the slit at your own, your hips lifting to a degree. Timing is all you need, the time to raise your hips just enough to prepare, fueling the frantic sink onto his cock.
Yet, you couldn’t have really prepared for Gojo, not with how much harder he’s become with you in his grasp. His cock’s brimmed with spry nerves, prickling with a fiery heat. It’s that same heat that keeps your walls from fluttering, sending the rich burn to nip at your poor entrance.
“OhmyGod, you’re so—”
“B-Big? I know, it’s all for you, baby…”
Your hips are caught in a bind, stubborn to move from their cocooning state. It takes for gentle rocks of Gojo’s hips to relax you, your hips rising voluntarily. He’s easing those walls of yours to a point, pushing past your sweet spot dumbly. You almost give him the full right to control in those moments, your body growing limp in his hold.
Right until you start to question it, the privilege to ruin your date by your means. He’s right there for the taking. It’s because of those very ponderings that you can sit high, swiveling about the head of Gojo’s cock before delivering a shattering pry at his building high. You can handle yourself this time, smothering your clit in the hairs surrounding his base. Your strides hold fast along his length, your pussy enveloping the entirety of his cock. Whiffs of insecurity whisk through your mind, unsure if Gojo would succumb to the lust as quickly as you did—only for you to discover the sweetest sight known to man.
Gojo’s brought himself to a whimpering shell of himself, mind numb off the slobbery squeeze of your walls. It’s so good to his poor, ruined mind, drunk off the bliss of your pussy. Spit spills from his mouth and glosses his lips, eyes glassy by the burning onslaught of tears—he’s a wreck underneath you. He’s finally got you, putting the effort to be used as some boy toy. He can’t take it, Gojo’s mind being beyond comprehension.
You take him so well, granting his sullied tip to nudge at your precious cervix. He deems himself blessed in the moment too, studying the pleasure trap itself beneath your features. Your lips fall from their pursed build, eyes rolled back into your skull, and hips set at a senseless pace. Why it’s so good, Gojo can’t believe it, freeing himself from the binds of his carnal lust.
“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum like that, Angel—and I don’t want that yet.”
Gojo’s brute strength comes to play as he takes hold of the reins, using her sheer force to pin you beneath his body. He settles onto his haunches, pulling you that much closer to close the distance. He doesn’t, guiding your legs to fold against your chest. He’s focused on your behalf, eyes queued on his bucking hips.
“B-But I’m gonna fuck you now, kay? Wanna make you feel good too, cover my cock with your pretty cum.”
The head of his cock pushes into you, splitting the lips of your cunt in an open kiss. He’s fitting inside you with such vivid ease, his cock almost sitting homely in your heat. The thick head kisses your leaving his shaft to curve at your sweet spot explicitly. He stretches you just right, fills you to the hilt, and the pulsing throbs that twitch inside you are nothing short of lewd.
With a few dips of his cock, Gojo could’ve made you cum just like that…but you’ve come to know that he won’t.
Gojo’s hips snap with no prevail, sending his cock to plunge so deep inside you. He’s hitting your cervix on every drive of his hips, smothering the perked nerves in a mess of fluttering pecks. He prefers it this way, pitting himself to the brim of your pussy that you have no choice but to cry out, his name falling from your lips.
He’s unforgiving when he’s like this, bringing forth the clash of skin echoing around the room. Gojo’s feverish in such nature, desperate to savory your pussy and desperate to cum. It’s more or less a reward for him, witnessing you handle all he’s giving. He can bury himself as much as you would allow, your walls sending his cock to. Each reel of his hips pulls the glossy sheens of your essence to paint his shaft
There’s much to take in but not a coherent thought in sight to do such bidding. From his chest smothered against your own, breath fanning—it’s simply too much for you to endure. The friction doesn’t offer you much either, the melds of heat running your body hot and throwing your mind into a flushed haze.
Gojo’s the one to blame, the thick of his fat cock rummaging tempered drags along your walls. It’s the hot and gummy fat bullying your walls that trap you in a trance, his cock rendering you a dumb mess of drool and spilled tears.
“G-Gojo…wait! It’s so–no, it’s too much! Jus’ slow down—”
Gojo’s hand peels from your thigh, his palm curved to the plush of your tummy. The tips of his fingers sit deep upon you, his soothing touch massaging your skin.
“It’s going too deep? Oh pretty girl, I can go, so, so much deeper than this. So deep that all you’ll know is me, baby.”
But it’s unbeknownst to Gojo how much he’s ruined you. He’s caught up in the sight of you so distraught and needy that he doesn’t know how close you are to your high. It’s hinged on so close that all it does take for you to reach that high is the pretty head of his cock to kiss at your cervix, the kiss of reassurance allowing for you to crumble.
Your spine arches from the dented cushions, hands fighting for solid grounding. Patches of stars coat your vision, courtesy of. Violent waves of exhaustion all strike your body at once, pulling what energy was left behind. You’re caught in a bind, the firm hold looming over your limp physique until it breaks at the sound of Gojo’s voice.
“That’s it, let everyone know that you’re all mine, Angel. You’re all mine, and I swear to fuck I’m not letting you go,” the oath rolling off his tongue. Gojo can’t help himself, refusing to quit amidst your high. His hips tilt to better his reach against your sweet spot, riding through the course of your orgasm.
A sharp seethe of air cuts through Gojo’s lips, pity boiling at the forefront of his mind. He knows it’s too much for you, watching your body attempt to flee. His eyes settle on your tits, bouncing with each flinch consuming you. He wants to say it, ask for your fleeting patience as his own orgasm hints at its arrival. But bless his foolish heart, he’s so drunk off your drooling pussy that words come out harsher than he means.
“Ah, don’t run from me, just take it…take every inch of me.”
A longing whimper of defeat wails off your chest. He’s fucking you to undiscovered lengths in your body, so far gone that babbles serve as your conversings. That same crowding influence seeps into your limp tongue. There’s no control in what you can say or do, your hands resting along the ridges of his flexed abs. Even your legs lose the urge to resist, lacing around Gojo’s waist to push him deeper than he’s even been.
“Please, c-cum inside me, Gojo. Please cum inside my pretty pussy, ‘Toru, please!”
“Oh Y/N, that’s so dirty of y-you…wait—fuck!—”
The threads of reality snap in Gojo’s mind at the sound of your pleading voice, a violent reckoning crashing over him. The spill of tension that sits in the fat bloat of his balls ruins you, thick ropes of a creamy white flushing your walls white.
Gojo’s lost all strength to carry on, his impoverished body collapsing onto yours. A dizzy head and heaving chest is a combination he’s used to but tonight holds a different story. Words can’t be found to describe the state he’s entered. He’s astute, taking everything in as his hands cling to your waist. His thumbs draw mindless circles into your skin, Gojo’s silent form of apology.
It’s a strange instinct for him, the sudden urge to shower you in his care. His mind’s racing with thoughts, how to show his intentions for you. It’s not in his character but god did he was To soothe you with kisses, rub all the sores and knicks he’d inflict, just to lay next to you in idle conversation was all he wanted at the moment. The effort’s worth it in his eyes.
So he decides to try his hand at it, pulling his chest from yours. His hands lay flat beside your head, closing the distance between you both with a smirk.
“Lemme clean you up.”
With a quick peck of his lips, Gojo turns his attention between his legs. His eyes fall shut as he pulls out from your cunt with a hitching breath. But it’s the sight that has him whimpering, his cock glistening with slick and spattered patterns of white.
Slotting himself between your legs, Gojo presses his cheek along your inner thigh, hands keeping your limbs apart.
His eyes return to the timeless sight of your slit, dribbling with his cum. He’s apprehensive about it for the moment, admiring the rare scene with doting hues. Yet as his tongue finally curls up against your folds, all thought suspends from him.
He can’t help but to be lazy, the flat of his tongue lapping at the puffy sheets of flesh. Each drop of your essence is caught by Gojo’s ministrations, relishing in your taste.
He’s guided to the hood of your clit, the bud perked twitching in regards. The tip of his slicked muscles tightens upon the sticky contact , swirling around the pearl gently. Gojo’s digits gravitate to your pussy, catching the hood of your clit in a flurry of strokes. He couldn’t care less about his cum pooling from your entrance, too enthralled with the unsteady gasps trapping your lungs.
“G-Gojo, wait! It’s t-too much!”
“Told you I love this cute clit of yours. Just give me one more, please?”
Feverish nods spill from you, the heft of the impending orgasm reaching like no other. It’s passing you in waves, the tingling numbness claiming the soles of your feet. Your legs fold to meet your chest rapidly, the knot in your lower back unraveling at godforsaken heights.
Gojo’s humming a giddy tune as he presses his lips to your quivering clit. He watches as your body thrashes about the sunken cushions, a prideful glint illuminating his eyes.
“Mhm, that’s my girl. ‘M so proud of you!”
Gojo pulls from your side for the moment, leaving the couch to sort through the vast piles of discarded clothes. He returns with his briefs and wrinkled button-down in tow. The dress shirt drapes across your body as he pulls you to your feet, his arms laced around your waist.
“C’mon, let’s go get comfortable,” he coos, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck. The two of you stroll up the stairs, passing through the first right door to enter the moonlit bedroom. The duvet’s tint of blue beckons you and Gojo to grow closer. He leads you to the bed, collapsing beside you with sleep itching on the brain.
As he settles at your side, Gojo’s eyes scan about your room. He’s greeted by the blanched white walls, a few paintings that hang—the bare coverings over your windows. A streak of blush surfaces at the highs of his cheeks, turning to meet your languid sights.
“Y’know, you have to buy some blinds, Princess. It’s especially dangerous at night, people can be so nosy.”
“Is that right?” you giggle, staring at Gojo through your lashes. You can’t help but admire his beauty, how the faint light of the moon kisses his fair skin and white hair. Even the way he looks at you holds radiance, his eyes of blue holding the purest glow you’ve ever seen.
Gojo doesn’t bother to keep his distance, bringing his body to cocoon your own. His hand catches yours in a hold, paired with the gentle pecks riddled across your cheeks.
“Promise to take you out on a real date tomorrow. We can do everything, walk around town, go to a different restaurant–”
“What’re you doing, Gojo?” the question calling about reflective silence.
He lets your inquiry bake on his mind for a while, keeping his fingers intertwined with your own. Gojo knows exactly what you mean. Promising another date, even just being in the same bed as you for this long was foreign. But with you—for you— he’s inclined to do anything that’ll keep you around.
He pays you one final glance before replying, a small grin teasing the corners of his lips.
“Trying something new.”
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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youtube
Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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yesimwriting · 2 days
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post match
----
the edge of your thumb brushes against the bottom of your racket. again and again, a much more docile back and forth than the game of tennis you just finished.
"now that was a...game." the breathy quality bleeding into patrick's voice implies a tiredness that serves as a point of pride. you're a fan of keeping friendly games friendly, but after playing with a talented duo that understands each other as well as patrick and art do, it's nice to know that you held your own.
your knees bend slightly, arm reaching downwards to grab the gym bag that you abandoned on the sidelines. "yeah," you hum earnestly, "you guys were great."
art tilts his head upwards, the corner of his mouth tugging itself upwards as he reaches for his own bag. "please," he mumbles as he unzips his bag, "even when you were on the singles side you had us fighting for our lives."
the warmth of art's words makes it hard to focus on rearranging the contents of your duffle bag. "you're exaggerating." you push the sandals you were wearing earlier, a spare pair of socks, and a set of tennis balls to one end of your bag. "but i appreciate it."
you're a little more careful when it comes to moving your t-shirt and denim shorts, taking the time to keep the clothes folded as you move them further into your bag. as you retract your hand, the side of your palm brushes against something cool. your water bottle.
how did you forget about that? you pull out the metal container, tucking it between your chest and forearm as you adjust your hold on your gym bag. finally, you shove the head of your racket into the newly available space.
your eyes shift upwards as you tug on you bag's zipper. patrick and art are standing close together in a way that highlights their familiarity. you've always felt the way that they understand each other on the court, but you're just starting to get the way that their closeness translates itself into life outside of the game.
"you guys are really good together." the suddenness of your own words surprises you. "anticipating moves, knowing when to let who go for it..." your explanation borders on awkward for some reason you don't exactly get.
there's a beat of silence, and the two of them exchange a look. you don't fully understand that either, but the corner of patrick's mouth shifts into a smile. he leans towards art, extending an arm to pull it around art's shoulder. "we're the team."
art works at remaining stiff, shaking his head slightly as patrick makes a show of squeezing his arm. "yeah, because he needs me to-"
"need?" patrick tugs on art's arm. "really? i need you?"
art lets out a partial laugh, shaking his head once as he halfheartedly tries to pull away. "no, no--you cut me off."
patrick looks over at you, eyes narrowing skeptically. "i don't believe him."
you twist the cap off your water bottle. "i'm neutral."
"neutral?" patrick repeats, letting his arm fall off of art's shoulder. he takes a small step in your direction. "really?"
you nod once before lifting your water bottle to your lips. before you can actually take a sip, the bottle is pulled out of your hand. you recognize patrick's smug smile before you've fully processed the fact that he's now holding your water bottle.
you cross your arms in front of your chest, lifting your chin slightly in an attempt to seem firm. "patrick."
"what?" his grin broadens as he bends his arm, holding the water close to his chest and out of easy reach.
you let your arms fall to your side in an attempt to seem nonconfrontational. patrick watches you, eyebrows raised and smile still glued into place. you take one step forward, and then another, again and again until patrick's within reach.
he watches you with an openness that's almost hard to take in all at once. you hold his gaze for what might be a second or a minute--you can't quite tell--and then you lift your arm as quickly as you can manage.
patrick's not thrown by the suddenness of your movement, taking a step back with an ease that's honestly a little irritating. he lets out a slight laugh as his arm bumps into art's.
art places a hand on patrick's shoulder in an attempt to keep him steady. you reach forward without thinking, your hand finding the skin beneath his wrist.
his grin broadens. patrick moves at a snail's pace. your fingers bend around his forearm. to your surprise, he doesn't move away again. he extends his arm carefully until the water bottle is just shy of your lips.
sometimes patrick's full attention feels so intentional, you feel like you should be able to pinpoint why he's looking at you so distinctively. if you dwell on it for long enough, you start feeling like you're missing something.
this time, though, there seems to be a silent question behind his gaze. you let your chin dip downwards in a cautious nod.
patrick tilts the container, the edge of it pressing against your bottom lip as water spills forward. you take two sips before patrick's straightening his wrist. he pulls the water bottle back enough to offer it to you. you take the bottle back out of instinct.
the confidence his smile radiates implies a smugness that digs at your skin. if he was anyone else, you're not sure you'd be able to stand him. "come on." patrick slings his tennis bag around his shoulder. "we need to hurry if we're going to make that movie you want to see."
patrick turns on his heels, walking forward without another word. it's instinct to want to follow along. patrick's a touchy person, and if no one else is going to consider what just happened weird, you won't either.
art's still, tennis bag sitting on his shoulder. you can't get yourself to take more than a step forward without seeing him move. "art?"
his gaze shifts from something just past your shoulder and onto you. the weight of art's full attention settles on you differently than patrick's. when art watches you, it's consuming in a way that's patient. there's a steadiness to any underlying intensity, like a minute could pass or an hour or an eternity and it wouldn't make a difference. he'll see whatever he needs to all the same.
art turns to face you fully before taking a step forward. he continues to walk towards you until he's so close you can see the faint array of freckles scattered across his skin. there's a particularly dark one near his chin.
he lifts an arm slowly. you don't move, not even when you can feel the tips of his fingers near the side of your cheek. art studies you for a second longer before letting his thumb brush against the edge of your bottom lip. the side of his thumb briefly presses into your skin, just enough to get your lips to part.
art pulls his hand back carefully, letting his palm linger against your skin as he moves back. "there was water on your..." his eyes briefly dip downwards before finding your own again. "patrick's messy."
"oh," you say, because you need to say something, "yeah."
the corner of his mouth pulls itself into a partial smile. he turns before you have to say anything else. "come on." art throws an arm around your shoulder. "we're gonna miss the movie."
you smile, a part of you glad that neither of them are looking at you right. "yeah, let's go." it takes a conscious effort to keep in pace with his long strides, but you don't mind it. "i don't want to miss the previews."
art's eyebrows draw together as he turns his head. "no one likes the previews."
you force a glare, tilting your chin downwards in an attempt to seem more intimidating. "i like the previews."
he squeezes your shoulder warmly. "you're so weird."
you let out a mock gasp. "really? i'm the weird one?"
128 notes · View notes
amourane · 2 days
Text
in another life
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pairing: thief!seungcheol x princess!reader
genre: fluff, angst, THIS IS A SAD ENDING
w/c: 8k
summary: you loved choi seungcheol more than anything but it was a love that was bound to fail. maybe in another life the two of you could have been together.
warnings: character death
a/n: bringing one of the old ones back from httphannie, i was gonna try and improve it but i honestly already liked it so much so i just left it be. hope it breaks your heart <3
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The first time you met Choi Seungcheol was when you were 12. 
Sneaking around the castle wasn’t something you usually did. Technically you weren’t doing anything wrong, you were just getting some cookies. What was wrong with that? You made sure not to make any sudden movement or any loud noises. Your parents wouldn’t be happy if they saw you in your nightgown stuffing your face with cookies. 
You were meant to be the perfect princess. 
You were making your way down the stairs when you realised that something seemed off. There should have been a very expensive vase from Italy right in front of you that had been gifted to your mother but there wasn’t. And there was meant to be that priceless painting that was a wedding present for your parents that wasn't there either.
Then you heard the faint sound of the door creak. At first you thought it was one of the servants then you heard the hushed male voices. You had lived in the palace for 12 years and in those 12 years you’d gotten to know every single one of your servants. These two voices weren’t at all familiar to you. Their footsteps seemed to approach you, softly hitting the floor. You didn’t realise that you had stopped breathing, scared at who or what might have been around the corner.
“Goddammit Mingyu, I told you not to touch anything!” A voice hissed. “This is our first mission and we can’t afford to mess it up!”
“Remind me why we’re robbing the palace as our first mission again?” Another voice asked, slightly higher than the one before. “I mean it’s much too dangerous, we’re just kids Cheol.”
“Oh shut up Mingyu. We’ve just got to make sure not to run into anyone otherwise we’re dead-” A body bumped into you, making you squeak. “What the?! Who are you?!” The boy in front of you couldn’t have been much older than you are. There was an obvious scowl that was etched onto his face. You gulped.
“Seungcheol, that’s the princess.” The boy next to him, Mingyu you presumed, whispered as if he was afraid of you. He was younger than Seungcheol and he offered you a meek little smile.
Both of them were dressed all in black. The sacks they were carrying were a dead giveaway on what they were meant to be doing. You furrowed your eyebrows. There had been a number of incidents that seemed to be happening all around the kingdom. A gang had been set up and every night things were being stolen from all the monumental sights. No doubt these two were part of it.
“You guys are petty thieves.” 
The look on their face morphed into annoyance.
“We’re not petty thieves, we’re hardcore criminals and won’t be associated with some nitwit dumbassess that can’t stay hidden.” The oldest scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“You couldn’t stay hidden.” 
Mingyu let out a tiny laugh at your remark while Seungcheol’s face flushed bright red. You could only give him a sly smile. 
“What are you doing up anyway, princess?” Seungcheol steered the topic away, placing you under the hot spot. “Shouldn’t you be catching up on your beauty sleep?” The two of them stifled their laughs as you looked at them confused. 
“I was hungry.” You frowned. “What’s wrong with getting a midnight snack?”
The word ‘snack’ seemed to perk the two of them up. It was like they had forgotten all about they’re so called ‘mission’ and they looked at you with wide eyes. Mingyu grabbed Seungcheol’s arm, whispering in his ear incoherently. Ever so often, Seungcheol would nod and hum. 
“So Miss…?”
“Seungcheol, she’s Princess Y/n, how dumb are you?” Mingyu interrupted his friend as he pinched in between his nose bridge. 
“Oh shut it Gyu, not everyone studies history as methodically as you.” Seungcheol cleared his throat and he made his voice go higher when he spoke next. “Anyway, Miss Y/n, my name is Choi Seungcheol and that is Kim Mingyu. We would be delighted if you could show us your delicacies.” 
He sounded oddly posh. No one ever spoke like that. Was he mocking you?
“Why do you sound like that?” 
Seungcheol spluttered, his cheeks turned red once again. “Just show us the snacks, princess, I can’t wait forever.” 
You shrugged. What harm could they do anyway? They'd get into trouble in about five seconds flat if they did anything to you. All you had to do was scream and alert the guards on night duty. Speaking of night duty. You’ve got to tell your father to tighten security. If two dumb teenage boys could sneak in the palace, who else could? 
Softly, the three of you walked down the hallway, footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting beneath your feet. A faint glow spilled from the slightly ajar door of the kitchens as it illuminated the hallway with a soft golden hue. You heard the familiar tune of a song only one person would know. Beside you, Seungcheol and Mingyu tensed, both realising that someone else was in the kitchens.
“You said you wouldn’t tell anyone!” 
“Don't worry.” You shushed them, dragging them in the kitchen. A boy looked up at you, grinning. His soft cinnamon hair swept away from his face. “Jun’s completely harmless.” You reassured both of them.
“Who’re your friends, Y/n?” Junhui jumped off the counter. He offered his hand to both of them. “I’m Junhui, but you can call me Jun, my dad’s the head chef here.”  
“Jun makes the best chocolate chip cookies and he always makes sure to keep a special stash just for me.” You looked at the boy completely enamoured. 
Wen Junhui was the definition of perfection. He was a gentleman, he was polite, he knew how to cook and he was handsome. The whole package. You’d known each other since you were little. The crush you harboured for him was huge, nearly everyone could tell by your puppy eyes and how you’d constantly visit the kitchens for ‘snacks’ as you put it. Even your parents had given up asking you to stop going to the kitchens. They couldn’t stop you anyway.
Seungcheol stared as you made heart eyes at the boy. You were such an obvious person. How did this Junhui guy not know how much you like him? 
"I made a batch for you." Junhui scratched his head. "But I don't think it would be enough for four people. I'd have to make more. Don't worry it won't take too long." He scurried away as he got ready to bake another batch.
You led both of them away and sat them down on the wooden table at the back. The jar you took out was filled to the brim with cookies. You hand one to both of them not before stuffing a few of them into your mouth. Soft chatter soon filled the air. The four of you didn’t really notice as the clock ticked and as hours whizzed by. You learnt a lot about Seungcheol and Mingyu despite the small bickering that would erupt ever so often. 
You and Seungcheol didn’t exactly get along well.
It wasn’t until Jun had to remind you that it was nearly time for the servants to wake up that you realised how long you had actually been up. Seungcheol and Mingyu said they had to go as well and they said their goodbyes to both you and Jun. 
When you were back, nestled in your bed you thought back to the time you spent with the two boys. It was nice to have friends your age again. Being by yourself was quite lonely and now since you were ‘growing up’ it was important to learn how to become a young lady. 
Secretly you hoped that the two boys would come back but you could never be so sure.
//
You were 15 when Choi Seungcheol kissed you.
It was utterly stupid. The fact that your governess had scolded you because you had forgotten your homework was stupid. Why was homework even important? You rested your head on your hands, leaning back against the thick tree. The sun shone down and it was a warm afternoon. You ran your hands through your messy locks. 
“How are you doing princess?” You shrieked when a face swung down from above. From one of the branches hung Choi Seungcheol, the smug grin plastered on his face. Blonde strands fell close to your face as he swung to and fro and you realised that his once natural black hair was now gone.
You and Seungcheol weren’t friends per se, you were more like frenemies. There were times he would be useful and you’d help him and in return he’d help you out. It was like friends with benefits, minus the sex. He’d developed a really annoying personality once he turned 15 one year ago. 
A flirty persona, that is. It irked you more than anything.
The random pick up lines he’d drop out of nowhere and the flying kisses he’d blow at you. When you had first met three years ago, he was a sane 13 year old, speaking normally. Now, he was a raging 16 year old that liked to flirt with the ladies and charm their socks off. He was still a thief though. For some reason he’d always drop by the palace and occasionally you’d find your things go missing whenever he ‘visited’. Or sometimes he’d leave items that you knew were stolen. 
You had been really good friends with Mingyu, bonding over your love for books. The literature in the palace library was enough to make the poor boy faint. He would often visit with Seungcheol returning the books he borrowed or to borrow new things. They both had introduced you to the rest of their ‘gang’ as they called it. 
They seemed nice enough. A few of the members were cautious around you, however over time they had started to warm up to you. Seokmin had grinned so widely you were afraid he would break his jaw when he first met you. Shaking your hand enthusiastically, babbling about how much he wanted to visit the palace but he’d been assigned with some idiot to the kingdom’s museum. 
They all seemed nice enough. The constant chattering and laughing always made you smile. You considered them your friends, especially since you didn’t have anyone to hang out with besides Jun at the palace. 
“Seriously Seungcheol, I told you to stop calling me that.” You resisted the urge to throw a book at his annoying face. “I was doing fine before you came.”
“Are you sure about that princess? You cursing at your governess doesn’t say that.” 
“How did you know that?!” You’d done that in your private bathroom, granted you hadn't been naked at that time but still! “Choi Seungcheol, were you spying on me?!”
His cheeks grew red. “Y/n! Of course not, I have some humanity and dignity in me! I just - you know what nevermind.” 
He swung down, plopping in front of you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. 
"I've got something for you." 
"Listen, if it's one of your stolen trinkets again I don't want it." You huffed, crossing your arms. You'd received too many 'gifts' lately and it was beginning to worry you. 
Fortunately, most of the things were returnable or either stolen from the palace. It was still worrying. You were the royal princess. It would be a disgrace to be associated with a lowly thief. But you couldn't leave Seungcheol much less leave everyone else. 
He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t steal that much Y/n, you’re exaggerating.” You raised your eyebrows. “Okay, maybe I do steal but that doesn’t mean it’s part of my personality.”
“Never said it was.”
“I-” He let out a breath, shooting you an annoyed look. “Doesn’t matter, just close your eyes.” 
"I swear to god Seungcheol, I'm gonna lose it if you pull something stupid." You reluctantly closed your eyes. Even though you didn't trust him one bit, he was still one of your best friends, though he was irritating. 
Seungcheol leaned forward, the shadows he casted on your face made your breath hitch. You felt him slip something behind your ear. He lingered for a second, staring at your pouty lips. He really shouldn’t, not when you still had that stupid crush on Jun. Your eyes fluttered open, a gasp leaving your throat when you saw how close the both of you were. Yet you didn't move. 
All you did was stare into Seungcheol’s chocolate brown eyes. Nothing was spoken. Time was frozen and you could hear your own heart beating loud and clear. You let your eyes wander down to the curve of his lips. Lips that were so pretty and irresistible. 
He leaned in and you melted when his lips touched yours, letting his breath fill you up. The kiss was sweet and slow. You closed your eyes, snaking your arms around his neck. Thoughts left you, all you could feel were his lips on yours, moving against them. The both of you pulled away, no words were exchanged. His thumb brushed over your lips.
“Can I-” 
You kiss him again, interrupting his words. His hands caressed the side of your cheek and you relaxed under his touch. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach and you indulged in his warm touch. Seungcheol felt right. He felt like everything you had ever wanted. His touch, his scent, his taste. It seemed as though everything fit perfectly.
The sounds around you ceased and all you could feel were his lips on yours. When you both pulled away, your cheeks were flushed scarlet. No words came out of your mouth and Seungcheol looked as equally perplexed as you did. Both of you didn’t say anything for a while. 
You seemed to snap back in shock scrambling away quickly. Apologies fell from your lips and you left Seungcheol alone, dashing back inside your palace. He stared at the place you once were. Maybe if you’d looked back you would have seen the way he looked at you. Maybe you’d figure it out but you were you. 
Seungcheol merely smiled, touching his lips. He would wait as long as it takes. 
//
You had your heart broken at the age of 16. 
Crushes lasted a few months didn't they? They would probably last for a few years at maximum. Well, you seemed to exceed that rule. How long has it been since you liked Jun? 12, 13 years? You certainly were a special case. All that time you were convinced that he liked you back. The constant cookies he had baked for you meant something, didn't it? 
Well, you were wrong. 
It was a normal Monday morning. You had just finished your classes and you were going to visit Jun like usual. Skipping down the hallway all jittery and excited. You had planned to tell him you liked him. You had a whole speech planned out. 
All of it left your brain when you opened the kitchen door to see him making out with Kim Soojin. You could hear your heart break at his actions. Funnily enough, you had just stayed there, not taking your eyes off the happy pair. Secrets normally spread like wildfire through the palace, you only could assume that they had just gotten together. 
You didn't hate Soojin. How could you?
It wasn’t like she intended to fall for Jun. He was everything anyone could dream for, you couldn’t blame her to be honest. There were times you’d notice the sneaky glances Jun would take at the girl whenever she came into the kitchens. The longing looks he would throw at her, which she would return. Deep down you knew that there was something going on. You just thought that maybe you stood a chance. 
Obviously you thought wrong. 
You cleared your throat awkwardly, trying to catch their attention. Tears were threatening to burst but you kept them at bay, not wanting to cry in front of them. Instead you smiled. 
“Didn’t know you guys were a thing.” 
Jun and Soojin turned to look at you, both of them scrambling apart. Both sporting matching red faces. 
“Y-Yeah, we just got together recently.” He scratched the back of his neck, unsure of what to say. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Of course not.” Your heart broke even more. Tiny pieces falling apart. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
The two of them grin, thanking you profusely over and over again. The whole time you kept smiling. Soojin was nice, she was kind and smart. A perfect match for Jun. You were meant to despise her but how could you compete with that? You were better off just cheering on the sidelines.
“Oh Y/n, did you come here for something?” Jun looked at you. You noticed his hands intertwined with Soojin. A sickening feeling had begun to build up in your stomach.
“I, um, no. It’s nothing. You two enjoy your time together. Don’t get caught by anyone.” You warned playfully. They giggled. Waving you bye as you closed the door.
Your room was deadly silent when you entered. You refused to cry. The feelings you thought you had disappeared. You stared at your feet. A small voice at the back of your head seemed to tell you not to worry. Obviously Jun wasn’t the guy you were meant to be with. The right person would come sooner or later. You just had to wait.
The sound of the wind made you look up. Your window was open, you swore it wasn’t before. That could only mean one thing.
“Well, hello princess.” Seungcheol taps your shoulder and you whirled around. His bright smile was wiped off his face when he saw you. Your eyes were red and glassy, you were blinking quickly, rubbing your eyes. “Hey, why are you crying? Princess, you alright?”
A beat goes by before you let out a loud sob and hug him. He wrapped his arms around you. The words were muffled but he catches ‘Jun’ and ‘kissing’ and ‘stupid crush’. Your tears kept streaming down your face, soft hiccups accompanying them. 
Seungcheol pulled you away to avoid him getting drenched by your tears also because he didn’t want you to suffocate. Your eyes were red and puffy. Your lips were trembling. He sighed, cupping your cheeks. 
“You know better than to cry over some guy. Come on Y/n, you don’t need to waste your tears on something like this.” He held your hands tightly as you sniffed. The sincerity that laced his gentle tone was what tipped you over and you started sobbing again. Seungcheol started panicking. Did he say something wrong? “Hey hey hey! Why’re you crying again?”
“W-Why are you b-being so nice?”
He chuckled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Because I don’t like seeing you cry and I guess I care about you.”
You giggled, wiping away your tears. “I guess I care about you as well Choi Seungcheol.”
He simply pinched your cheeks and you slapped his hands away. “Now, can you help me return this crown I found?” The accessory dangling from his fingers made you laugh. 
“How did you even manage to grab that?” 
“I have skilled hands princess, I’m a thief for a reason.” The charming smile on his face had you grinning. The thoughts of Jun and Soojin were long gone. You fixed your gaze on the beautiful gems that were encrusted into your crown. The pretty sapphires glinted. You had many crowns, you could spare one of them.
“You can keep it.” 
Seungcheol’s jaw fell open. You had always made him return whatever he stole and he always did. But you had never asked him to keep something. The crown was beautiful and you surely had other ones to replace it but why would you give it to him willingly. 
“Keep it as a memory of when you finally admitted you’re a petty thief.” You grinned cheekily, sticking your tongue out at him. 
“You’re a brat, you know that?” He rolled his eyes, pocketing your crown. “I’m not a petty thief I’m a-”
“Hardcore criminal, yeah you’ve told me.” 
“Keep that in mind princess, I’ve been training ever since I was 3.” He smirked. “You shouldn’t doubt me.” You shrieked when he jumped out of the window, rushing to peer outside. When you do, he’s sitting on a tree, grinning right at you.
“Don’t do that!”
“Check your pockets!” He shouted as he disappeared, probably to meet the boys somewhere in town.
You fumbled around your pockets, confused. Your fingers brushed something and you pulled it out. A single rose lay in your palm. The colour a deep red, the delicate petals lay softly on you. You giggled. 
Guess he really did have good hands. 
//
You told Seungcheol you loved him when you were 19.
It had been the night of your 19th birthday. Your parents had thrown you a grand party in the palace ballroom, inviting all the neighbouring kingdoms to celebrate. There were so many people and you were made to go to each and every one to thank them for coming. You never asked for such a big birthday party and you would’ve much preferred not having a party but your parents had insisted.
By the time it hit 10pm the party was in full swing. Other nobility were drinking from their flutes of champagne and some were taking the floor to dance. Many had asked you for a dance to which you had reluctantly agreed. It was all a big blur. Bright lights and forced laughter.
It was way past midnight when you managed to make it up to your room. You were beyond exhausted. Your parents had made you interact with every single guest and you wanted to bury yourself into your bed so badly.
Darkness surrounded you as you entered your room and your feet automatically brought you to where your bed was. Too tired to function, you flopped down onto the covers and as you did something hissed. Your reaction is immediate and you jump up and flick the lamp on your bedside hurriedly.
Seungcheol greeted you with bleary eyes and a pained expression on his face.
“Did you have to throw your body onto me?”
“Wha-What are you doing here?!” You questioned, shocked at his face. 
“I came to wish you a happy birthday.” He rolled his eyes. “But you were taking forever at that party of yours and I got tired.”
Seungcheol tugged the covers away from his body and sat up. He ran his fingers through his hair, dragging his fingertips through the knots. You watched when he finally looked up at you.
“What?”
You frowned at his actions. “You stayed here for hours just for me to get back.”
Seungcheol’s cheeks turned pink and he cleared his throat. “Well, you are my friend are you not?”
You shuffled in your position, crossing your legs on the bed. “Yes of course we’re friends, but you didn’t have to stay here for so long. What if I took longer.”
“Then I’d still wait.” He shrugged. His eyes wandered over the fancy dress you were still wearing, finally locking them with yours. “That doesn’t look too comfortable.”
It’s a weird feeling but you felt your heart pound like it did all those years ago when you first kissed him. You blinked silently, trying to steady your heart from jumping out of your mouth. Seungcheol was no longer the teenage boy you once knew. He had grown up and he had lost the baby fat in his cheeks as well as the boyish charm he once held. He was handsome and sexy dare you admit it. There were multiple occasions he would make you stare at him and you couldn’t help the thoughts that would come into your mind.
Like right now.
“Princess?” His voice was soft, a whisper and he inched closer to your face, wondering why you had suddenly gone quiet.
You gulped. “Cheol…can I kiss you?”
His eyes widened, obviously taken aback at what you had just said. You looked up at him, body already burning from god knows what. Seungcheol’s eyes flitted down to your lips and even though there was little light you could see the way his pupils widened and his eyes turned darker.
The distance between the two of you grew shorter and shorter until you were millimetres away and his hand came up to touch the back of your neck. You shivered at the sensation, breath hitching.
It was in less than a second that Seungcheol closed the gap between the both of you. His lips crashed onto yours and it was like a perfect fit. His lips were soft and the feeling of them on yours caused your body to feel light. Your arms snaked around his neck and you pulled him closer towards you. The sweet taste made your head spin and you continued to kiss him passionately.
All those days after you had kissed Seungcheol there was an unrelenting spark that never went out. Sure, he had acted like everything was normal but you never missed the glances he would throw at you. In a way you both knew what you felt but you had constantly denied it.
You weren’t now though.
The man in front of you kissed you with fire and you melted into his arms once again. Choi Seungcheol made you feel things that no one ever had and maybe this was love and if it was you wanted it to last forever. 
The two of you eventually pulled away breathless and panting. His eyes locked with yours and you felt an unknown emotion well up inside of you. It wasn’t like anything you had felt before and it overtook you, consuming you whole.
“What now?” He whispered into your hair. “Are we going to forget about this or…?”
You stayed quiet before softly speaking up. “Do you want to forget about this?”
“Of course not, you’re precious to me Y/n, I’d do anything for you.”
You flushed at the sudden confession. “Well I don’t want to forget about this either. So does this mean that we’re…”
Seungcheol chuckled as he gave you a chaste kiss. “You’re mine now princess, and I’m yours.”
There was silence for a while. Pleasant and sweet silence. The two of you stayed cuddled up in each other's arms for a good few minutes, basking in each other's warmth. You could have stayed in Seungcheol’s embrace for an eternity. 
“Cheol.” You looked up at the guy you had known for so many years. The tender love that filled his eyes made your heart swell and pound in your chest, begging to be free. “I love you.”
A beat passed.
Seungcheol’s face split into a grin and he tugged you closer towards him.
“I love you even more.”
Needless to say that night was the happiest night of both of your lives.
//
You were 21 when you were told you had to be married off. 
The items on your table were scattered across the floor along with your clothes. There didn’t seem to be anything you could do to stop your father’s decision. Your tears kept streaming down your face, your soft hiccups echoing through your room. The news had been brought on you so soon, you couldn’t comprehend what even happened back there. All you knew was you were going to be married off to some man that you wouldn’t even love.
You flopped down on your bed. The bright sun outside was a stark contrast to your emotions. The world obviously didn’t realise you were upset. You were only 21, so young and not ready to get married. There was still so much to explore, so much to discover, not to mention you were in love with Choi Seungcheol. How could you get married? What would that mean? 
Seungcheol stood outside of your door. He silently listened to your soft sobs. Maybe he had been eavesdropping back in the throne room. So what? He only wanted to know what seemed so important. The moment he had learnt that you were meant to be married off, it felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest. He would never admit it but he knew he wasn’t the one meant for you no matter how much he loved you.
Normally, he’d barge right in and greet you but he couldn’t. Whenever his fingers brushed the door knob he’d flinch away like it burnt him. In all the years he’d never heard you cry, that is except when you’d seen Jun sucking Soojin’s face off. The situation he was in shocked him too much. What was he meant to do? 
“Is she alright?” Jun knelt down beside Seungcheol. “She hasn’t come out in a while?”
“She’s still crying.” He simply shook his head. You were 21, surely you didn’t have to get married. “She has no other option does she? She’s their only daughter, they’ll grant her whatever she wants right.” 
Junhui grimaced. “Not this time Seungcheol, I don’t think so.” The boy stood up, dusting his clothes. Jun and Seungcheol had bonded over the years, the rest of the gang seemed to like him as well so that was a bonus. The two of them were friends. “Are you going to wait for her?”
“Yeah, someone’s got to be there when she comes out.”
Several hours later, the door creaked open. Seungcheol bolted up. He was greeted with your tear stained face. There was a part of him that knew it was better to leave you alone but he couldn’t. Instead he hugged you close and gave you a kiss. You wrapped your arms around his waist. 
“Are you doing better?” 
“I’m okay.” Your voice was soft and quiet. “You should go.”
Seungcheol frowned. “You must be crazy to think I’d actually leave you.” He grabbed your hand. “Let’s go outside for a bit, get some fresh air.” He attempted to pull you with him but you remained rooted to the spot, your feet refusing to budge from the ground as if tethered by invisible chains.
His gaze lingered upon you, drinking in the subtle nuances of your demeanour - the avoidance of his eyes, the restless fidgeting of your hands, the nervous bite of your lip. There was something wrong, something that gnawed at the edges of his consciousness like a persistent whisper.
“Listen.” You pulled your hand out of his grasp. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore. Things are a bit...complicated.”
Seungcheol's world screeched to a halt, disbelief painting his features as he struggled to comprehend what you had just said. "Y-You want me to leave?” You nodded. “Like forever."
This time you hesitated for a second but you still nodded your head. He didn’t believe you’re being genuine on this. There was no way you’d ask him to leave. He’d known you for many years but why now?
“Well, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why. I’m not giving up on us.” 
Normally, you would start giggling and give him a sweet kiss and finally give in to him. All you did was sigh and look away. No emotions on your face. 
“Just go Seungcheol.” You stared at him lifelessly. Your eyes were a deep void of nothingness. He opened his mouth to start arguing with you but closed it. What could he do? He’s nothing compared to you. “Go before I call the guards.”
He stood still determined not to leave but then he saw the pain in your eyes. The tiredness. You sighed, turning away to leave.
"Is this it then? You’re just going to give up on us?" Seungcheol glared at you. It was insane that you'd think that he'd leave you when you both had known each other for so long. "We both know that you’re lying to yourself."
Your eyes hardened to stone and you barred your teeth. "You're delusional."
"If I am then you are too." He snarled, stepping closer to you. His eyes softened and he held your hand, squeezing it tightly. "I love you."
You faltered at the three words. He’d say them all the time but this time it made you feel weak. Even though Seungcheol was angry you could tell that those three words were pleading for you to say them back. It was an internal fight and you looked down at your hand in his. You knew what would happen if you were caught with him and now your father was already suspicious. You couldn’t risk Seungcheol’s life like that.
"Y/n I love you and I always have, please don’t do this." He pleaded. You bit your lip, closing your eyes as you took a deep shaky breath. "Please don’t do this, not to us please. Did it not mean anything to you?" 
"I-I…" You flinched when he reached out to touch you. There was a rock at the pit of your stomach and you didn’t know why but your throat was closing up and you could feel tears begin to prick your eyes again. "Seungcheol I can't…"
"Why not?!"
"You know why!" 
The truth was bitter and vile. It was cruel and it was ugly. The truth that neither of you dared to voice aloud. Tears were streaming down your face and you wiped them away furiously trying to get them to stop. 
"Don't you get it?" You pushed him away. "It's not going to work, it's impossible and we both know that. Just leave Seungcheol, I don't need you anymore."
“Y/n it isn’t funny when you say those things.” 
You didn’t respond. Seungcheol sighed, already knowing your answer. Reluctantly, he left you alone. This time he was the one leaving you and he didn’t look back. Maybe if he did he’d see you, heartbroken, stifling sobs. 
//
ONE YEAR LATER
"Someone was spotted last night." A guard reported to your father. "They were looking for something."
You tensed. It had been nearly a year since you had kicked Seungcheol out. One year of utter silence in your life. You didn't receive any more gifts nor did you have some chatter to fill your lonely void. You missed everything about him. From his sweet kisses to his laughter that never failed to cheer you up. When he stopped appearing so did the others and as more and more months passed you deluded yourself into thinking that they hated you. Because how could they not? 
To hear that someone was nearly caught last night was nerve-wracking. However you were positive it wouldn't be one of them. They'd know better to show their face here. Your father had tightened the security around the palace, apparently you were at the tender age to be kidnapped and ransomed. To set foot in the palace was like setting foot into a death trap.
"Did you catch them?" Your father glared at the guard when he shook his head. "Did you at least find some clues to who this mystery person is?" 
The guard gulped, his eyes flickered to you for a second. "They left a note." You swallowed your food thickly. "Outside the princess's window." 
This time you tried not to choke on the food. Your hope about it not being one of the guys grew dimmer and dimmer. 
"Well, hand it over." Your father snatched the piece of paper off the guard's hand, eyes scanning the note. His eyes fixed on you and you know what's about to happen. "Check the perimeter for any sight of suspicion. You're dismissed." 
The guard scurried away not before giving you a small apologetic glance. 
"What's wrong my dear?" Your mother's tone was laced with worry. "Is everything alright?"
"Looks like someone wants to meet Y/n tomorrow night." You didn’t have to look up to know that his eyes were burning into you. It was like he was trying to cook you alive for answers. "Anything you have to say?"
You kept your mouth shut, poking at your breakfast. 
Your father lowered his voice. “You’re going to help capture this criminal and god forbid you disobey me.” He hissed. “Understand Y/n.”
You didn’t move, frozen in shock. “Y-Yes, father.” You just hoped that it wasn’t who you thought it was.
//
It was cold. Cold and windy. You were standing on your balcony, fiddling with the note in your hands. No doubt about it. You recognised the handwriting and it felt like fate was sealed. There were guards hidden everywhere possible. 
Your heart was pounding and your palms were sweaty. 
“Didn't think you’d actually come.” 
You spun around. Seungcheol was leaning against the door. He’d grown taller since you last saw him and he had dyed his hair again. If it wasn’t under these circumstances you’d be overjoyed to see him again but all you could feel was guilt. The dreading feeling of guilt and shame. 
His bright grin was wiped away when he heard a noise. His eyes widened in terror as he looked at you. It’s a pleading look and you didn’t meet his eyes. 
“You did it, didn’t you?” Seungcheol shook his head. 
It’s a sickening sight to see him get handcuffed. It would've been better if he had started shouting or at least given you a glare. But all he did was sigh as if he knew it was coming. You didn’t speak a word. Even when he was dragged out of your room and your father told you that you did a good job. You didn’t respond. 
It’s only when you were sure everyone’s gone that you let the tears break. You slid down the wall, muttering sorry over and over again. The guilt ate you up, consuming you. The feeling was suffocating and even though your sobs were quiet you still felt like you were being torn apart. There was a new hole in your heart that’s bigger than the rest and this time you had no one to blame but yourself.
//
“Choi Seungcheol, you are charged with multiple attempts of theft and one attempt of treason. You will follow the normal punishment of a death sentence, you have the right to defend yourself.” 
The treason bit was a lie. The royal court had made that up, like they did for everything that they deemed wrong. You blinked back tears at the sight of Seungcheol kneeling on the floor, hands tied behind his back. He was thinner and paler, being locked in a cell for days on end had taken its toll. There were dark bags under his eyes and his clothes were dirty. Yet his eyes were still bright and lively as if he wasn't about to be heavily punished. The dark orbs were twinkling with the familiar mischief as he stared at you. 
“Any last words?”
He keeps his gaze trained on you, lips tugging into a tiny grin. “Check your pockets.” 
Your breath hitched and your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when your fingers brushed something cold. Upon touching the object you’ve got a pretty good idea about what it was and when your hands brush a tiny rock you felt like crying again. Your parents were too busy mumbling to notice as you slipped away back into the shadows.
You pulled the object out of your pocket and you smiled blissfully. A silver ring with a beautiful diamond in the centre. It wasn’t big and flashy like the jewels you owned in the palace but it was enough. More than enough. A tear fell and then another and another. Before you knew it you were biting back sobs, slipping the ring onto your finger. You curl into a ball like you were five again, wiping away the tears that fall freely. 
Once you returned Seungcheol was gone and your parents were looking at you disappointed.
"Y/n you really shouldn't disappear like that." Your father reprimanded. 
"Where's Seungcheol?" 
"You mean that criminal." He scoffed. "Locked away, execution is set for tomorrow."
Your face paled and your fingers brushed over the ring. He would do the same for you if you were in his position. It's a split second decision when you dashed away, your parents shouting for you to come back. You ignored their cries, running to the dungeons, a guard caught you by your shoulders, stopping you from going further.
“Stop it.” You shouted, wriggling desperately. “Stop it, let me through.”
They apologise profusely all while dragging you back to your parents. The royal court was already dismissed and it's only you, your father and mother in the room. You didn’t dare to make eye contact with both of them. It was stupid how they still treat you like a child.
Instead of speaking you simply trudged up to your room. You heard your father muttering to the guards about keeping an eye on you so you wouldn’t escape. There was no use in that, no matter how tight the security measures you were going to find a way out. You had to.
//
It was the dead of night and you were creeping around the palace like you once did when you were younger. You had managed to slip by the guards and now you were making your way down to the dungeons. If you had guessed correctly, the guard who was on duty tonight liked to drink so you may have slipped a few sleeping pills into his drink before bed. He should be fast asleep by now.
Sure enough when you pushed the door open the guard was fast asleep on the floor, soft snores escaping his lips. You silently walked over, plucking the keys from his belt. There weren’t many people in the dungeons, you didn’t really keep prisoners. So there was only one cell that was occupied.
Seungcheol was leaning against the dirty brick wall, hands still cuffed. There was a small rock that he's throwing at the wall as he whistled. Somehow he managed to still look stunning while in a rotting jail cell. He looked up when you grabbed the cell bars trying to unlock it as quietly as possible. His eyes flickered to the ring on your finger and he wistfully smiled.
"I see you've received my gift." 
It was infuriating how he was so calm in this situation, how it seemed like he didn't care. He had a death date all set up for him and his life was in the line. How could anyone be calm in this situation?
"Why'd you give me this?" You took a shaky breath when he got up, walking closer. His eyes softened.
"Because I love you." He let out a little laugh. "Have since I met you."
You were crying again. The both of you know it's not possible. It wouldn't work. You'd drilled that thought into your head. His hand caressed your cheek and you saw his eyes were glassy as well.
"Whatever happens tomorrow, promise me you won't blame yourself." Seungcheol's handcuffs jangle when they hit the metal bars. You shake your head. "It's not your fault that it ended this way." 
You were choking back tears. "Y-You can't just give me a r-ring and die you moron. I-It's not fair." 
Seungcheol rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Don't think of it as dying silly." He reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Think of it as a long…disappearance. You can always still visit the boys in the cabin if you want. They've missed you."
"I sent their f-friend to jail." You deadpanned.
"Yeah but you also gave their friend the best years of his life. The time I spent with you Y/n are the best moments of my life.”
You sniffled, wiping your tears. "I hate you." 
"No, you don't." He teased, poking your cheek. "You love me."
A moment of silence passed with you staring at the thief you grew up with, the one you had fallen in love with. The both of you had been through so much and for it to end like this. You never would have fathomed that you would be in this situation, yet here you were.
"I hate how you're always right." You let out a deep breath, blinking rapidly. Seungcheol wiped your tears away and you held his hand. He raised an eyebrow as if expecting you to say it. You rolled your eyes. “I love you too idiot.”
Once the words leave your mouth you feel like breaking down again. It just confirmed what was going to happen. 
“You’re going to ruin that pretty face of yours if you cry again princess.” 
“I-I’m not crying.”
“You’re not?” He let out a laugh. “Of course not, you’ve just got something in your eye.”
You nodded, sniffling some more. “Please tell me you're planning to escape. The door’s wide open.”
“I can’t risk you getting in trouble and I doubt your parents are happy you’re down here right now.” You couldn’t care less, the guy you love was about to die, you weren’t going to stay and act pretty for a bunch of obnoxious people. “Speaking of, you should probably go before anything bad happens.”
“I’m not leaving.” You stood your ground, folding your arms. The guards had no right to drag you out of here. Your parents might grow furious and your reputation would be tarnished but you didn’t care. Not anymore. You wouldn’t leave.
Seungcheol let go of your hand. “Listen to me Y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow and if I don’t just know that I would do anything in the world for you.” You heard the distant footsteps of someone approaching. He gives you one last smile. “Now go before something bad happens.”
Hesitantly, you give one last glance at the thief you loved in chains and shackles. He wasn’t crying but you could tell it was hurting him so much. You kissed him. His lips were still as soft as you remembered and he still smelt of the same soothing vanilla. Nothing seemed to matter and time seemed to stop. 
You really hoped things would have turned out differently but it didn't. This was how the world worked, not everyone got their happy ending. The both of you part and you embraced him tightly.
“Maybe in another life we could be happy.” 
“Maybe...” You buried your head into his chest, inhaling his scent. The footsteps started getting closer and you reluctantly pulled away. You bite your bottom lip, peering at the entrance to the dungeons. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you more.”
//
When you were seated on your throne, the public beneath you, you didn’t feel good. Seungcheol was on the floor, hand behind his back and a blindfold was tied around his eyes. There was nothing good about this. You felt like throwing up. 
You didn’t remember much of the execution, your mind had blocked out the memories and your eyes had been shut for most of it. You only remember bursting into silent tears as soon as you got into your room. The shame was eating you up yet Seungcheol’s words stayed fresh in your head. 
It was like your world had collapsed, the days after the execution you spoke not a word and didn’t eat or drink. It was only when the maids would insist you eat that you did. Your parents were too busy to notice a change in your behaviour and you couldn’t care less. The hole in your heart only grew bigger.
The diamond ring on your hand was the only thing that kept you connected with him. It made your heart hurt whenever you would think of the memories with him. The years you spent your life with him were your happiest and you knew you would never forget them. 
As years went by the memories were still fresh in your mind as if they had all happened yesterday. Even though your father had married you off, you still kept the ring on your hand. You still remembered the cheeky boy who had broken into the palace many years ago and you remembered how you fell in love with him over time. 
Over the years the pain subsided and you learnt to grasp at the happy moments. You found how to be happy again and you knew how he would never want you to live sad for your whole life. And as you grew older and had children of your own you finally felt the guilt wash away. The past had been eating you up and you had let it go, learning how to enjoy your life for him.
But you’ll never forget how much you loved Choi Seungcheol and how much he loved you back. And maybe in another life you both could be happy together.
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146 notes · View notes
clusterbuck · 2 days
Note
How about number 20 for Buck/Eddie, because clumsily flirting seems very much in their wheelhouse?
ohhh boy is it ever
every guitar-string scar on your hand
different first meeting | bar singer buck | 1.4k, T | ao3 | send me a blossoming romance prompt 🌸
Eddie stares down at the text on his phone screen.
Christopher is in good hands, I promise. Don’t you dare try to come home before 9pm. I know you don’t think so, but you need a break. 
He’s regretting letting his coworkers into his life right about now. He doesn’t know how to tell Hen that nothing about a night sitting alone in a bar sounds relaxing to him, but her heart is in the right place. The least he can do is make an effort.
The bar he’d picked is on the quieter side, some ways off the beaten path. Not the kind of place tourists go to for the glitz and glamour of Los Angeles, but it’s nice enough. He can sit here for a few hours, nurse a couple of beers until it’s late enough that Hen will let him back into his own house.
It’ll be fine.
Except—
Just then, a man walks out of some back room carrying a guitar and a microphone stand, and Eddie sighs. 
Live music doesn’t exactly fit the quiet night he’d hoped for. 
Can I get an exemption if there’s a guy about to start playing guitar in the bar? he texts.
Hen sends back an eye-rolling emoji. Music is a good thing. Give him a chance. You might even enjoy it.
Yeah, and pigs might fly, Eddie thinks, but doesn’t text back. Hen is doing a nice thing, he reminds himself. She’s doing a nice thing for him, and the fact that she doesn’t know him very well doesn’t take away from that. 
He hasn’t been at the 118 for very long, but from his first shift he could tell they’re family, the kind of team that takes care of their own. Still, they never pried, just waited for him to open up to them on their own terms, and Eddie was surprised when he realised how much he wanted to. It’s been a while since he’s had real friends.
He’s grateful for all of them, but especially Hen—and not just because Hen has a wife, and every time Eddie’s met Karen he’s remembered that one of the things he promised himself when he left Texas was that he’d let himself be his full self.
He hasn’t come out to Hen or anything, partially because he doesn’t know what he would say, exactly. I’ve never so much as kissed another man but I was fifteen when Brokeback Mountain came out and it woke something in me that never settled down since and I kind of want to know where it leads seems a little too wordy. 
But sometimes, Hen looks at him and Eddie thinks maybe she knows anyway. Or suspects, at least.
The man with the guitar strums a chord. Eddie expects the bar patrons to quiet down and listen, but the man’s would-be audience barely even bats an eye. Something flickers across the man’s face, but it’s gone before Eddie can figure out what it is, replaced by a smile almost as bright as it is empty.
“Good evening, folks,” the man says into the microphone, smiling that polished smile. “My name is Buck, and I’m going to be with you for the next couple of hours. Let’s have some fun!” 
No one in the audience reacts.
Buck launches into a cover of a song Eddie doesn’t recognise. He can tell that Buck is good, though—he has a nice voice, and his fingers are sure as they find the chords against the neck of the guitar.
Eddie has a brief vision of Buck’s nimble fingers pressing into his skin, and blinks against the heat rising on the back of his neck. Only now that this first observation has crept in, Eddie notices more: the slight curl of Buck’s hair at his temples, like he’d tried to tame it and failed. The birthmark framing his left eye, and the tattoos running along his arms. The black t-shirt he’s wearing, and the way his biceps threaten to burst out of the sleeves when he strums the guitar.
The blush creeps up his neck and across his cheeks, and Eddie looks away, taking a deep breath.
When he turns back, Buck is looking right at him. He grins, and Eddie’s never met this man before but he knows that this smile is the real deal. 
The song ends. Most of the audience barely reacts, but Eddie applauds, and gets a wink in return. His face, he’s pretty sure, must be bright red by now, and he takes his phone out just to have somewhere else to look.
Before he can think better of it, Eddie opens his text thread with Hen. Well, at least he’s hot, so there’s that. He turns his phone facedown as soon as he’s hit send, not quite believing he just did that, but picks it up again immediately when it vibrates.
Hen has sent an entire row of eyeball emojis, followed by Damn, Eddie, get it.
The phone vibrates in his hand, and she adds, If you want to get it, that is. I’ve got Christopher as long as you need. 
Eddie can’t help the grin that slips out, and glances up at Buck again. He’s moved on to something Eddie vaguely recognises, and he lights up when he notices Eddie looking. 
I might want to… move in the direction of it, he tells Hen. Then he adds, Besides, no one else here is paying attention to him. I feel bad.
Mhmm, Hen texts back. I’m sure you do. 
One chorus later, his phone vibrates again. Have fun, be safe, make good choices.
Eddie rolls his eyes and puts his phone back in his pocket, but he can’t help the giddy feeling rising like a bubble in his chest. 
Buck plays on. The audience continues to mostly ignore him, and as the night goes on, the crows begins to disperse. But Eddie stays rooted to his seat. Buck stops pretending to play for anyone but him, and slowly, he grows used to the weight of Buck’s eyes on him. By the time Buck plays his final chord, Eddie is more than certain he wants to replace it with his hands.
But Buck is packing up, and Eddie finds himself suddenly nervous. Maybe Buck was only looking at him because he was the only person in the audience who seemed to give a damn.
Or maybe Buck was looking at him, but he’s looking for something other than a thirty-something gay man with no real experience of what it means to be gay. Maybe Buck just wants someone to take into the back alley for fifteen minutes of fun. Eddie doesn’t know if he knows how to do that.
Then Buck glances over at him, and his smile is warm, inviting, almost shy. Eddie gathers every speck of courage he’s ever had and gets to his feet.
“Hi,” he says, when he reaches Buck. “You were really good.” He swallows. “Do you, um, do this often?” Then he blinks, and flushes so hot his face must most closely resemble a tomato. “I mean—I didn’t mean that like a line. Like hey, handsome, come here often? Or—I mean—it’s not not a line—I just didn’t mean to—”
Now, Eddie thinks, would be a great time for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
Buck cocks his head, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What, so you don’t think I’m handsome?”
“No!” Eddie yelps, then his eyes go wide. “I mean—‘no’ as in—I do think—” he groans, runs a hand through his hair. “Christ, I’m fucking this up.”
Buck takes a small step closer, almost like he’s testing to see if Eddie will flinch back. He doesn’t.
“I think you’re doing just fine,” Buck says. “You even have an advantage over me.” 
“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “What’s that?” 
“You know my name, but I don’t know yours. Can’t exactly keep calling you Hot Stranger, can I?” 
Eddie’s breath catches in his throat, and it takes a couple of seconds for him to be able to splutter out his name.
Buck grins, delighted. “Well, Eddie,” he says. “Want to get out of here?” 
Half-hearted fears try to rear their heads—worries that Buck might expect more than Eddie is prepared to give—but they die down almost as soon as they pop up. They just met tonight, but there’s something about Buck that makes Eddie feel like he can trust him. Makes him feel safe. 
So he takes a breath and lets himself relax, lets his face split into a smile. “Yeah, Buck,” he says. “I’d love to.” 
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vintageshanny · 1 day
Text
For the First Time
Content: 18+ This is a one-shot about Elvis losing his virginity. I do not claim to be an expert on the details of this. I have heard different rumors, and this is, to me, one possibility of how things might have happened. There is smut in this, but I’m more focused on how he might have been feeling at this time. As always, my tender little heart bleeds with love for him and everything he went through in his life. I would very much appreciate any feedback. ❤️
Thank you @lookingforrainbows for talking me through ideas on this and letting me know it didn’t sound ridiculous. You are a beautiful soul. ❤️ 😘
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Fall 1954
Elvis ran his fingers over the outline of the condom package that Scotty had slipped into his pocket at the beginning of the tour. “I know ya got a girl, EP, but put it in your wallet man, just in case. Ya don’t wanna come back with more people than ya left with,” he’d added with a wink. Somehow rubbing his fingers over the rough edges calmed Elvis’ ragged nerves a little bit.
His mind drifted to Dixie and the promises they’d made to each other. To wait. To wait until they were married to consummate their relationship. Sure, they were affectionate with each other, always hugging and kissing, but whenever Elvis tried to sneak his hand up under her skirt or unbutton a couple buttons on her dress, she’d firmly push him away and say, “That’s for our wedding night, silly.” Sometimes when they were kissing, she’d let him grind against her through their clothes, and he’d get so worked up that he needed to make an excuse to go to the bathroom so he could relieve the amount of passion coursing through his entire body.
The promise to wait had seemed so much easier six months ago when they talked about it. Now, it was damn near impossible. He saw the way these girls looked at him after the shows. He was dying to know what it felt like to explore every part of a woman. He thought maybe if he just got this out of his system, the waiting with Dixie wouldn’t be so hard. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he was a man after all, and she didn’t need to know about this. He could experience this on the road and be good for her at home. He just needed to find a way to make sure everyone was happy and taken care of, like he’d always tried to do.
Dropping the condom onto the rumpled bedspread, he rose from the edge of the bed and started pacing the hotel room, the voices floating up from the courtyard below making his heart thud in his chest.
“Maria! You came!” Scotty’s reedy voice rang out.
“That’s the idea,” Bill added, only slightly under his breath.
“You should head right up! Elvis should be waitin’ for ya. He’s been waitin’ a looong time.”
Elvis cringed at Scotty’s words as he looked out the window and saw the two of them clink beer bottles and laugh.
Maria paused and turned to look at them, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “What’s that supposed ta mean?”
Elvis held his breath, willing Scotty not to divulge too much. He’d never come right out and told the guys he was a virgin, but he saw the way they nudged each other and smirked whenever he was talking to a girl after the show. He slowly exhaled as Scotty responded.
“Aw nothin’, honey, I just hope you two have fun on your date.”
Maria rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs, carefully ascending them in her white kitten heels. She took a deep breath, smoothed out her pale yellow sundress, and tried to brace herself for what was on the other side of that door. She had been with a handful of other men, but this was a bona fide star. He probably invited a different girl up every night. Maybe that’s what the other guys had been joking about. She hoped she would live up to his expectations, especially after her bold proclamation earlier. The conversation replayed in her head as she lifted her hand to knock on the door.
“Hey baby, I could see ya dancin’ from up on that stage. Looks like ya really enjoyed the show.”
“I sure did. Maybe I can return the favor with a show of my own.” A sense of satisfaction had consumed her when he unexpectedly blushed at her advances.
Maria’s mind snapped back to the present as Elvis flung open the door. He was wearing black dress pants with a pink jacket open to the naval. As he rested one hand slightly below his hip, she took note of his long slender fingers, nails chewed down to the nub, and the fuzzy little trail of hair leading down from his belly button. Up close, and in the fluorescent lighting of the hotel, she could see he had a pimple on his chin and another close to his collarbone. The entire scene was absolutely intoxicating.
“Maria, I was startin’ ta think ya were gonna stand me up, baby.” Elvis flashed a crooked little grin and stepped aside to let her in the room. He quickly kicked a stray sock under the bed where he’d hidden the rest of his dirty clothes. After sniffing each pair of socks, he had decided it was best to just stay barefoot after his shower. His toes scrunched up at the feel of the rough carpet under his feet.
“No, of course not,” Maria giggled nervously. “I suppose I just took too long tryin’ ta look nice for ya.”
“Well ya sure do look nice, honey,” Elvis whispered lowly as he closed the door and grabbed her by the waist, feeling the soft flesh of her hips. He leaned in and smushed his lips into hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth when she let out a little gasp.
“Wow, you don’t waste no time gettin’ to the action, hmm?” she laughed a little bit when he finally pulled back for some air, his eyes closed. His hands had moved up a little bit, his thumb gently rubbing at the side of her breast.
“I-I-I thought that’s what ya wanted, baby,” Elvis stammered out, trying to read her expression. “If you’d rather just sit and talk, that’s okay.” He led her over toward the bed, and they both spotted the condom at the same moment. Elvis’ face turned bright red as he snatched it up. “Oh, I-I-I’m sorry baby, I d-d-didn’t mean ta leave that there like that. We really ain’t gotta do nothin’, I-I-I mean-”
Maria just laughed and pushed him gently backward until he was sitting on the bed. “It’s okay, Elvis.” She unbuttoned his jacket the rest of the way and slipped it off his shoulders. “I always make good on my promises.”
Elvis stared in awe as she reached behind herself and unzipped the yellow dress, letting it fall to the ground, revealing a silky pink bra and panties. Elvis gulped nervously as he stared at her body. The material was so thin and sheer, he could see the outline of her nipples and the little mound of hair down below. He stifled a groan as he could feel his cock growing hard, straining against the briefs that he now wished he’d forgone.
“You’re really gonna make me put on a show for ya, huh?” Maria teased as Elvis just sat there studying her. “I thought ya might join in.” She reached back and unclasped her bra, her perky breasts now on full display for him.
“I-I-I’m sorry honey, ya jus’ got me a little speechless here. I’ll join in,” Elvis murmured as he pulled her closer to him. He tentatively leaned in and took one of her nipples in his mouth, caressing it with his warm tongue.
“Mmm, that’s more like it,” she whispered. “You can touch me anywhere, Elvis.” As she grabbed his hand to guide it toward her panties, she realized he was literally shaking with nerves. “Elvis? Are ya okay?” As she looked at him with concern, the meaning of Scotty’s “He’s been waitin’ a long time” suddenly hit her. “Are you, I mean, is this your, um, first time?” she asked softly.
“Wh-wh-what?” Elvis exclaimed, jerking his trembling hand away. “N-n-no baby, I-I-I’ve been with plenty of girls. I-I-I jus’, um, I mean, n-n-none as beautiful as you, that’s all,” he stammered out, trying to distract her with a compliment.
Maria wanted to tell him it was okay, that she was flattered, that he didn’t need to be nervous, but she decided it was best to just drop it and help him relax. She smiled and nodded. “You’re sweet, Elvis. I wanna see if ya taste sweet too.” She dropped down to her knees and unbuttoned his pants.
“Wh-wh-what are ya doin’ honey? Ya ain’t gotta do all that.” Elvis heard the words come out of his mouth, but somehow his body’s desire betrayed him by lifting slightly off the bed so Maria could pull off his pants. His heart raced anxiously as she reached inside of his briefs. He knew from being in the locker rooms back in school that not everyone had a sheath of foreskin covering their dick, and he hoped she wouldn’t mock him the way some of his classmates had.
Maria could feel her panties getting wetter by the second as she wrapped her hand around something thick and warm inside Elvis’ briefs. “We should just get these outta the way,” she murmured, pulling them down his legs and watching as he sprang free from the confinement. Her eyes widened with surprise when she realized he was not…well, not like the other guys she’d been with. There was something extra wrapped around him. She liked the way it felt as she pumped it with her hand.
Elvis squinched his eyes shut, too afraid he’d see a look of disgust before she jumped up and ran off. Instead, he felt something warm and wet wrap around his hard dick. He opened his eyes to see Maria taking him deep in her mouth, and the moan he let out made him kick himself for not closing the window tight. The whole hotel must know what’s going on in here. Her tongue traced its way around his shaft before taking special care of his sensitive tip. Elvis thought he might explode right on the spot as she sucked on him.
“You do taste good y’know,” Maria said with a little wink as she pulled off him and stood up again. She slid her dampened panties down and stepped out of them, so they were both totally naked. “Do you wanna check if I’m ready for ya?” Elvis nodded and this time let her guide his hand between her legs.
“Baby, it’s so wet down there,” he murmured as Maria started moaning. He found her entrance and slipped a finger inside of her, moving it in a way that felt natural. She felt so soft and silky, he thought he could just play with her pussy for hours. But Maria wanted more than a finger.
“You should slide right in then,” she whispered as she moved his hand and laid down on the bed next to him. He grabbed the condom again and opened it, rolling it onto himself, hoping Maria couldn’t tell he’d never done this before. Maria smiled at the awkward way he put on the condom, and noticed that she could feel him trembling again. “I want it so bad, Elvis,” she reassured him, pulling him on top of her.
“Me too, baby, me too.” Elvis reached down and guided his dick toward her slick opening. Once he’d gently pushed in a couple inches, he thrusted in the rest of the way, her wet pussy consuming his entire length. “Oh, goddamn,” he moaned out, unprepared for the feeling of something so tight and wet wrapped around him, clenching at him. He tried to take it slow, tried to make it last, but the pleasure was overpowering. He thrust a few times before his orgasm completely took over, leaving him panting on top of Maria, his sweaty hair dripping down onto her forehead.
“Oh wow, baby, you are amazing.” Elvis slowly pulled out and rolled to his side. He carefully peeled off the condom and tossed it into the trash can by the bed. “I-I-I’m sorry, I usually l-l-last longer, I jus’, uh, got so excited,” he tried to explain, his face turning red from the lies and the exertion.
Maria just smiled and patted his chest. “That’s okay, I thought your excitement was very sweet.” She hesitated, then added, “Do ya think you could, um, help me get there though? Your fingers felt magical inside me,” she admitted with a blush.
“Really?” Elvis perked up at the compliment. “I mean, of course baby.” He reached over between her legs and started playing with her pussy again, taking mental note of what seemed to work the best. She moaned deeply when he put a finger inside her, but he noticed that her toes curled up and she could barely even function when he rubbed at her little button. I wonder what both at once would do. He kneeled next to her and put two fingers from one hand inside of her while his thumb on the other hand worked that little nub.
“Oh, God!” she cried out in ecstasy, her legs shaking, her arousal leaking out onto his fingers. “Oh Elvis, I c-c-can’t take it,” she moaned, begging him to stop. Elvis removed his fingers and smiled, very pleased with his ability as he leaned down to kiss her soft lips.
“Was that magical enough?” he whispered in her ear.
“Pure magic.” Maria pulled him in for another passionate kiss.
“C-c-can I ask ya somethin’, honey?” Elvis gently stroked Maria’s arm with his fingertips. “After talkin’ to ya, ya seem like such a nice sweet girl. Wh-wh-why did ya do this with me?”
Maria tried to sort out the thoughts in her head, wondering how much she should share. “You seem like a nice sweet guy. Why did you do it?” she finally asked.
“W-w-well, that’s different, I mean, I…I wanted ta feel good I guess,” Elvis stumbled over his explanation, unable to really articulate what he was feeling at that exact moment.
“So did I,” Maria responded. “Elvis, I’ve been through some really bad experiences. I suppose at heart I’m just lonely and this is a way to feel close to someone, to feel connected and cared for, even if just for a little while. Ya know what I mean?”
Elvis swallowed a lump in his throat. It was like she had put his exact thoughts into words. “I know exactly what ya mean, honey. Does it work? Ta make ya feel close ta someone, I mean?”
Maria let out a little sigh. “Sometimes. Sometimes not so much. But we all just try the best we can, I suppose.”
Elvis nodded as Maria stood up to get dressed. “I should get home. My mama will worry and wonder where I’ve been.”
“What will you tell her?” Elvis asked as he pulled his clothes back on.
“That I was having a deep conversation with a friend,” Maria laughed. “Y’know, not really a lie, but not the whole truth. Not everyone needs ta know everything.”
“Will I, uh, will I see ya again at another show?”
Maria smiled and hugged him tight. “Maybe. But maybe we were just the connection the other needed in this moment.”
Maria paused at the door and looked back. “Elvis?”
“Yeah, honey?” Elvis’ mind was a muddle of confused emotions right now.
“You are very sweet and very special. Never let anyone make ya feel like that ain’t enough.” That crooked little smile would be burned into her mind forever.
Twenty minutes later, Elvis descended the steps to the courtyard, wondering what the guys were up to. Scotty and Bill were playing cards when they saw him approaching and started a round of applause. “There he is!” Scotty yelled out. “I told ya that condom would come in handy.”
“Aw quit it,” Elvis snapped, but he couldn’t deny feeling a tiny surge of pride at being considered “one of the guys” for the first time in his life. He couldn’t see it now, but over the years ahead, he’d sacrifice so much for the desire to fit in, to connect with people, to wish they could understand him. What he’d give for just one person to really understand what he was going through. To understand his heart.
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Tag List (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @lookingforrainbows @thatbanditqueen @be-my-ally @ellie-24 @from-memphis-with-love @arrolyn1114 @atleastpleasetelephone
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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btsmosphere · 2 days
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Supercharged | JJK
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Chapter 6: Burn Out
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🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: When things get ahead of you, your powers aren’t the only things to spill over; some truth is ready to breach the surface.
🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, minor injuries, self-doubt, over-training, loss of control and... awkwardness
a/n: this could have been two chapters, and I did think about it, but fuck it, you guys deserve a nice hefty update! this just means there's a fair bit of development ahead...
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“At least Namjoon didn’t blow out any of the lightbulbs. Those are a nightmare to replace.”
Jimin smiled weakly when you didn’t respond to his joke. His worried gaze travelled to V, who stood behind you. He shrugged.
With a sigh, Jimin sat back. You hadn’t looked him in the eye as he checked your wounds, too caught up thinking. About the ways Jungkook was stronger than you. The ways you messed up. If only you had more stamina, if only you could shoot quicker, use more power.
The fight replayed in your head, displaying all the moments you could have responded better.
Was Jungkook right? Were you anywhere near ready to go out there?
“All done.”
You blinked, finding Jimin staring back at you. How long had he been waiting?
“Oh. Thanks,” you tried your best to muster a smile.
Sending you a smile in return, he stood up, placing the first aid box into the cupboard.
“It’s alright. At least you got out relatively unscathed,” he said, “just some bruises, a couple of singes here and there.”
He winced again at the sight of the faint bruising on your neck. Though he wished he could say this wasn’t like the Jungkook he knew, he would be lying.
Jungkook hurt people all the time: all of them did. But here, at home, he was usually at ease with their little family. After everything he had been through, however, Jimin knew very well how short his youngest brother’s fuse could be.
A quiet click announced the newcomer as Hobi poked his head round the bathroom door.
“Everything alright?” he asked.
It fell a little awkwardly in the space. Nothing was alright after tensions had boiled over so violently just half an hour ago, and you all knew it. Still, you gave him a nod.
Slipping into the room, Hope leaned against the counter, dodging out of the way as Jimin threw a few band-aid wrappers in the bin.
“Sorry about Jungkook,” Hope began, “he… he’s a bit protective. But we thought it would get better. It should never have got this far.
“You can do whatever you want today, get food and watch movies. I should think Kook will be training for quite a while.”
The way he said that left no doubt as to what the younger was actually doing. Images from his rage workout the other day invaded your head. Good, as long as he was away from you.
Tugging your hoodie back on to cover the bruises you had acquired, you agreed and followed the others to the living room. Soon taking up residency on the couch, you didn’t intend on moving anywhere soon.
Thankfully, the others didn’t expect you to either. Nor did they push you for conversation when you were so evidently staying quiet, and instead they put a film on and chatted around you.
You didn’t see Jungkook that whole day.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t lingering in your mind, though. At the very least, the slight discomfort from the bruises he had given you served as a reminder of everything that had transpired. But your frustration fluctuated between him and yourself.
If Jungkook’s behaviour could be excused as protective, you were going to need a lot more explanation than that. What reason had you given him to hate you so much?
He hadn’t given you the chance to do anything but fail since you got there, so how could you be expected to trust him?
But while you wanted him to see that you could be trusted, you started to doubt that yourself. Maybe you were trying to help the boys by joining them, but as much as you wanted to deny it, Jungkook had proved that you were weak.
For now, you didn’t want to go near him, so you used that as your excuse for staying put all day, letting the household go about its day around you. But steadily, your mind filled with all the things you needed to work on. You had to patch up the gaps where your powers lacked, and you weren’t going to rely on Jungkook to do it anymore.
Maybe if you proved yourself, they would want you after all? Besides showing your lack of bond with Jungkook, today had surely showed Namjoon that you weren’t up to the task.
That was why he had stood you down.
Which was why you found yourself alone in a training room a few days later.
Since that day, you hadn’t trained. For one thing, your trainer had cemented his place as your mortal enemy, so you had no one to practise your powers with, since the others were all preparing for other things.
As for physical training, you thought they would at least let you do that. But they insisted you needed to rest for a couple more days.
You didn’t protest too much, but you knew this was how it would begin. This was their excuse to stop you training. They had given up on you, thinking you weren’t good enough to join them.
You were going to show them, Jungkook above all.
Now they were away on a mission, Jungkook nowhere to be found, leaving you the opportunity at last.
With the way the last outing had gone, they had switched plans. Now, instead of waiting around for Bolt to strike, they were beginning to relocate their allies, moving important weapons and things to more secure locations, while feeding Bolt’s informants the impression that the vacated premises were still operational. They hoped it would buy some time so they could formulate more of a plan to combat Bolt, without him gaining more power in the meantime.
Of course, Jungkook was still seething. He had made himself scarce the moment the others left, no doubt wanting to avoid spending any time with you.
You weren’t complaining.
Breathing deeply, you assessed the targets you had set up. A smile graced your face. The last time you had trained alone, you had accomplished a lot. Maybe you would try lifting objects again.
But first, you had to work on your speed. That was the main weaknesses Jungkook had highlighted. You weren’t able to keep up with him, and you had to change that.
Rolling out your stiff shoulders, wincing for a moment when it twinged the last remnants of your bruises, you raised an arm.
Your power felt a little rusty as it burst from your palm. Gritting your teeth against the slight tingle of pain, you cut it off and fired again. After a few tries, it felt pretty much normal. You weren’t going to wait any longer.
Lifting both arms now, you alternated your fire, turning in the space as you tried to hit each target. You hit them all, bolstering your confidence as you took a breather and went again. You may have hit them all, but you wanted to be faster.
This time, you didn’t even wait for one bolt to die away before you fired the next one. Focussing on short, sharp bursts, you let your powers pulse through the air.
The rattle and clash of metal filled the space as you shook each target in turn.
You made it around the room again, finding a rhythm, but this time you didn’t stop. Bolt wouldn’t stop if he was attacking you; Jungkook hadn’t. You had to push through.
So when you approached the familiar feeling of your powers slipping, you simply pushed through. You maintained your speed, barely able to keep up with the pace you had set. It was like running while the ground was slipping from under you, but you stayed standing and on your toes, enjoying the exhilaration of the electricity flowing through you.
You felt its power, hot and fierce in your chest, revelling in your ability to control it.
Then, one bolt sputtered and died. You picked it up again in a split second as you fired the next lightning into the space, but it scared you. Picturing the onslaught of gold from the other day, you knew that could cost you dearly in a fight.
So while your powers protested, you pressed on. Now, you had to force out each beam of light, but you weren’t about to stop. You had to improve. You had to succeed.
You didn’t notice when the heat of your powers became unpleasant. That burning sensation hadn’t invaded you for so long, but suddenly it was overwhelming, crashing down on you.
Gasping at the sharp pain, you staggered for a moment, not wanting to stop.
You raised your arm again. This would not defeat you. You had to push through.
Nothing came.
You searched for the familiar feeling to unleash your power, but instead you felt a tangle in your chest, a sparking ball of electricity that hissed at you like a wild animal.
Not now…
A stabbing pain lanced through your chest, blue suddenly erupting into the air. But this time it wasn’t you. Your power clawed its way down your arm, leaving a burning trail in its wake.
Biting down on a pained cry, you looked around in fear at the empty training room.
Though panicked, you knew you had to control it. You had pushed just a little too far, you only needed to reign it in again.
But as you closed your eyes, trying to find the centre of your power, shut it off like you were used to, more blasts leapt from that chasm in your chest. You battled to close it down, but it had power over you now.
Blue filled the space, colliding with the walls, clattering against targets.
Your knees buckled, sending you crashing to the floor. Now, you were unable to control it as you cried out, each release of your power coming with its own wave of pain. You thought you had left this unbearable heat behind, but now it seared through your body with a vengeance as your powers ran rampant.
Control it, control it-
But you couldn’t find space to breathe, let alone to calm your powers. Your arms shook, a tear breaking free from your eye as you gasped.
What had you done?
In your vision, blurry with pained tears and cut up by streaks of luminescent blue, something moved.
Though you lay panting on the floor, you squinted towards it. It was a person.
Were the others back? Your frazzled mind barely had time to wonder this, before the most pressing issue asserted itself again.
Wincing and curling in on yourself as another shot of electricity forced its way from you, you called out. Your voice was raw and shaking, but you had to protect them.
“Don’t come near! I’ll- I might hurt you!”
You knew your voice was thick with tears, but surely they could understand you? Why were they coming closer?
At the same time, both a yelp of pain and a lightning bolt escaped you. Your eyes widened; the figure was directly in its path.
A flash of gold.
The figure ran closer.
Despite your state, you had enough presence of mind to feel your cheeks burning as Jungkook came to a stop in front of you, looking down at you with wide, panicked eyes. For a few seconds, his mouth opened and closed uselessly.
Then, another bolt. And another.
As they cut through the room, leaving behind their signature of burning pain, the world tilted. Your eyes squeezed shut, Jungkook forgotten as the sizzling sting of your powers took up your thoughts.
You wanted it to stop.
“Control it.”
The instruction was muttered in your ear, closer than you expected. The next moment, a weight shifted against your back, pulling you to sit upright and against something. Someone.
Still heaving for air, you shook your head.
“I- I c-can’t!”
Another flash of blue, another flash of pain.
The arm that was looped around you squeezed tighter.
“You have to. Control it.”
And then a hand was placed against your back, steady and firm compared to your own body. It nestled between your shoulder blades.
The next thing you knew, a warm sensation bloomed there. But not uncomfortable, like your own rebelling powers. It bled through you, enveloping the mess that your powers had become. Your eyes slid closed, basking in the relief from the searing pain.
You could feel your powers, a blue weight sitting in your chest. You couldn’t see them, of course, but you had always felt them to be blue – not that you had realised. Not until now, at least, because the calming light that surrounded your power felt startlingly gold in comparison.
After a moment, you were collected enough to take control. With the aid of soothing gold containing your power, you were able to breathe deeply, closing off the electricity as you had done that first time in Namjoon’s office.
The gold faded.
Still, the hand on your back lingered, remaining steady.
“Okay?”
It was only now that the weight of this situation hit you. Jungkook had had to rescue you. From your own powers, no less.
You simply nodded, not trusting words to form.
At your confirmation, his hand finally left you. He had been sitting behind you, supporting you, but now he moved away. You would deny that you missed it.
But he only shifted around to your side, sliding an arm under your own.
“Are you crazy?” he asked, but there wasn’t much bite behind it.
Shaking his head, he muttered a curse as he helped lift you from the ground.
“What were you thinking?”
Again, the usual venom was missing from his voice. You kept your eyes down, not responding.
Huffing a little, he turned towards to the door. And paused.
“Can you get upstairs?”
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Chewing on your lip, you kept your eyes fixed on your mug. You found the blanket you were wrapped in very interesting all of a sudden, fiddling and tugging at it with your free hand.
It was quiet.
It had been quiet for a while now, but neither of you were particularly inclined to change that.
Jungkook sat across from you, stiff and upright in his seat while you were huddled inside a blanket. He had sort of thrown it at you earlier. He hadn’t given you a second glance, instructing you rather coldly to sit, but it had to be the closest thing to affection he had ever shown you.
He was also holding a mug of tea. Perhaps it was just for show; he hadn’t lifted it once.
In a moment of weakness, your eyes darted up. You instantly regretted it, as you found his gaze already trained on you, and you both hurriedly averted your eyes again.
Just for something to do, you took a sip of tea, the slurp painfully audible in the silence. Your hand still shook a little when you lifted the mug.
Lowering it slowly, you chewed on your cheek.
“Thanks.”
You blurted it out without much consideration, the silence finally becoming too much for you.
Unfortunately, the quiet hung around a bit longer. Warily raising your eyes again, you watched Jungkook for a reaction.
His eyes were avoiding you, looking instead at a blank spot on the wall.
Then he sucked in a breath, leaning forwards to deposit his still-full mug on the coffee table.
“So do you want to tell me what you were doing?”
Finally his eyes turned to you, leaving you breathless. Your shame over what happened made words stick in your throat, but you knew you would have to explain.
Tearing your gaze from his to glare at your mug again, you felt your cheeks heating up. But you forced yourself to talk.
“You… you were right the other day. I’m not strong enough, or fast enough. I was trying to work on that – on my speed. I thought if I pushed myself, it might help. But I… I just lost control.”
Letting out a breath when you finished speaking, you looked up hesitantly. A light frown was on Jungkook’s face as he assessed you. He was thinking a little too hard for your liking.
He sat back.
“You remind me of Bolt.”
If you were still drinking, you would have choked. Your eyes widened, not knowing how to respond to that. In your search for words, all you could manage was an indignant but half-hearted excuse me?
A smirk quirked the corner of Jungkook’s mouth.
“You’re so pig-headed,” he began, “you treat your powers like some sort of game and pretend you’re good at everything…”
You simply stared, disbelieving. Was he seriously saying this to your face?
“And when you want something, you decide you’re getting it–” he eyed you before adding “–not to mention all the blue shit.”
He gestured in the general direction of all of you. You gaped.
But then he dropped his gaze, sighing.
“I… wanted to knock you down. You’re way too good at everything. You remind me of Bolt because he’s indestructible. Or it seems that way.”
Finally managing to scoff at his words, you shook your head incredulously.
“So now you think I’m good enough?”
“I didn’t want you going out there, okay?” he snapped, “I don’t trust you.”
“Just because my powers look like Bolt’s? Is that it? I never asked for this-”
“I know.”
Jungkook’s voice was softer now, startling your rant to a halt. His hands were clasped, elbows resting on his knees. And he wouldn’t quite look you in the eye.
“You’re not like Bolt. He’s the one that hurt you. I just couldn’t separate the image of you from him, what with you being so… obnoxious, and determined.”
He paused. Sighed.
“And I lied, okay?” his voice was quiet, “you’re fine. Your speed is good, you could pretty much keep up with me, and that’s saying something. I thought you’d know better.”
A frown creased your brows together. Now you were confused.
Looking up once again, he met your eyes.
“You shouldn’t push your powers, surely the others told you that? They can reach their limit, and I’m fairly sure yours did when we fought. Today was too soon, you shouldn’t have worn them out like that. You won’t be able to use them for a while. Not like that, anyway.”
“Like what?”
“Fast. You overwhelmed them, it might take a bit to build up your speed again.”
You swallowed, not wanting to believe his words.
“Or, you just want me out of training-” you bit back, but he cut you off.
“Oh, I couldn’t care less,” he sniggered, “go ahead and burn out your powers for all I care. I’m just telling you.”
You didn’t really know what to say to that. You simply tugged your blanket a little tighter around your shoulders.
“Turns out you’re human just like the rest of us.”
Was that supposed to be a compliment? Or an insult? You couldn’t really tell.
After a moment holding his gaze, you went back to your tea. The two of you seemed to agree on one thing at least, and that was avoiding each other’s eyes as the silence stretched on.
Even once your mug was emptied, you fidgeted with it, letting your fingers slide around the handle for something to do. Jungkook’s words turned over in your head. It was probably the closest he had ever come to giving you actual advice. Perhaps you should take it, give your powers a rest for a short while.
It surprised you that Jungkook hadn’t yet left. He looked remarkably awkward on the other couch, refusing to relax into the seat but sitting ramrod straight on the edge instead, insisting for some reason on staying there.
Never before had he voluntarily endured your presence for this long.
He seemed to notice you sizing him up. He turned his gaze to find you watching him with your head tilted. And somehow, he too looked hesitant, far from the confidence you usually saw in him.
You swallowed, but didn’t look away.
“Don’t tell the others?”
Your voice was quiet but clear in the space. Jungkook quirked an eyebrow.
“You’re really determined to join us, aren’t you?”
With a sigh, your expression softened. You finally looked away, picking absently at your blanket while you replied.
“I agree with what you guys are doing. Bolt tried to kill me, all because I was just… there, at the wrong time. I didn’t matter to him. That doesn’t seem like someone who cares about protecting people. So I don’t want him to get whatever he wants with those weapons he’s collecting.”
Expecting the usual argument about you being of no use, you kept your eyes stubbornly down. But Jungkook was quiet.
If you looked up, you would have seen him blinking at you. Curious, almost.
But you never did, not until his expression clouded over again and he made to speak.
“And if the others knew you did something this stupid, they’d keep you away from the action even longer.”
You rolled your eyes, but had to admit that Jungkook wasn’t wrong.
“Pretty much,” you conceded, “and I do want this. It finally feels like I have a purpose.”
You had never expected to be so blisteringly honest with Jungkook, but when you laid beseeching eyes on him, you knew you had got through somehow.
Seemingly displeased with his own decision, his mouth straightened into a line.
“Fine. I won’t tell them. But you better not do it again, you know I’ll get the blame as well.”
You weren’t sure if that was entirely true, but if Jungkook wanted to make that his reason for helping you out, then so be it.
At last, it seemed he had reached his limit with you. He stood abruptly, casting one more glance at you, and strode away. Watching his retreating form, you sunk further into the sofa. A subtle smile took up residence on your face.
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You hadn’t even put the tv on. Silence filled the apartment and you stared up at the ceiling from your position on the sofa.
Since you and Jungkook talked a few days ago, he had, surprisingly, kept his word. Around the others he stoically ignored you as normal, but also diligently kept his mouth shut about your little accident.
You suspected he also didn’t want to admit to helping you. But whatever kept him quiet worked for you.
It was true that he glanced over at you more often despite his continued frosty attitude towards you. Or perhaps you were imagining that? He was just glaring at you like always – only, you began to read into it too much. Now you two shared a secret, in a sense, it meant that every time his eyes locked with yours they seemed to hold more significance.
However, you had to remind yourself nothing had changed. The two of you were still only here because you were stuck together on Namjoon’s orders. Which was the same reason Jungkook had been the one to help you before.
No, nothing had changed.
Turning your head, you let your cheek fall against the cushion as you hesitantly gazed at the tv. Maybe you should put it on, just to fill the silence?
The lack of noise in the house served as proof that Jungkook wanted as little to do with you as ever. The moment the boys were out, he made himself scarce.
At least you had been permitted to learn more about what exactly they were doing when they went out. They were leaving the house more and more frequently, and for longer stretches of time. Given Bolt’s movements, and his startling power at their last encounter (due to the weapons he had stolen from Kuyang), the boys were launching a counter-operation.
If they couldn’t defend their allies from a direct attack, they had to bide their time until they could build an attack strategy.
So for now, they were relocating important developers to throw Bolt off. Stop him before he could gain even more power; before he became too much of a match for them.
Jin seemed fairly confident that they had tracked Bolt’s sources well enough to feed him misinformation to keep him unaware of their movements. The only risk now lay in the transportation of what you could only assume were deadly weapons through the city.
Standing on the kitchen counter was a small black receiver. You could turn it on if you wanted, hear what was happening.
You were contemplating it when something pulled at your thoughts. Your focus frayed, distracted by that incomprehensible feeling that there was someone behind you.
Flipping over on the sofa, you found Jungkook leaning against the wall. His arms were folded, but there was no glare entrenched on his face. Startled, you eyed his damp hair, the oversized black shirt hanging from his shoulders.
Clearly he had just come from a shower, so why wasn’t he going to train?
The absence of a scowl was really throwing you off. He didn’t look totally comfortable, expression tight and slightly expectant, but what did he want with you?
You raised your eyebrows in question.
He blinked at you, then his eyes slid away from your face, looking somewhere over your head and through to the kitchen.
“Training,” he said.
You continued to stare, but he just as stubbornly avoided your eyes.
After another moment, you huffed and sat up.
“Training?” you echoed.
“We’re going to training.”
“…we?”
“You heard me.”
His response was dry. Already, he was pushing away from the wall and turning his back on you, leaving you little choice but to follow.
Leaving the couch and hurrying after him, you made it to his side on the stairs.
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to use my powers? After…”
“Not for speed,” he corrected you, eyes fixed ahead.
A frown furrowed your brow as you reached the training space. Today, you remained in the main, largest room. There was no one around and clearly Jungkook didn’t have want of the targets you normally used, as he stopped right in the middle and turned to you.
His brows were pinched, clearly a little hesitant about this. You noticed the way his teeth pulled slightly at his lower lip.
“Power,” he said.
You stared. With a subtle roll of his eyes, he elaborated.
“Apart from speed, that’s what you need to work on. You need to connect with your powers, feel like the light is an extension of you. Since you can’t work on your agility, it’s time to think about force.”
Nodding, you felt your confidence raise a little. When you had trained by yourself before, you had hit upon that exact feeling he described, an almost physical connection that let you lift the target.
Plus, using a little force would be more than welcome, with the pent up tension you had felt since your last disastrous practice.
Jungkook took your confirmation and stepped forwards into line with you, holding your gaze. He held his arms slightly away from his body, palms facing you.
“Summon your powers and push against me,” he instructed.
It took you a moment to get your bearings and prepare to use your powers. It had been a while. You tried to hide your slight wince when you searched for the powers only to find a scorching, tangled mess where they usually flowed from, like someone had knotted barbed wire there.
Swallowing, you let your eyes slide shut for a moment. It was as if your power was hissing at you, an animal you had to coax from hiding.
But coax it you did, the first slight tug leading them to easily unravel until the electricity flowed through your veins again. Beside a slight tremor in the flow of blue light you released, it seemed fairly normal.
Surely Jungkook wouldn’t approve of the clumsiness with which you handled your powers, though? But when you looked up, he only appeared focussed.
With a small nod as your powers shot through the air, his eyes clouded with gold and his own luminous lightning welled in his hands.
He didn’t fire a strong bolt to match yours. It appeared that he held a small golden fountain in each hand, bubbling gently, just enough to dispel your blue electricity before it could strike his palms.
Your eyes connected.
It was curious, how Jungkook’s eyes looked so much less deadly when they were literally glowing with power. As you held his gaze, you felt no urge to look away. Instead, his focus, gentle and firm at the same time, affirmed you.
Taking a breath, you continued to let your powers flow freely.
“Concentrate on your powers,” he spoke in a low voice, “feel them moving through you. Then follow that feeling outwards, feel where they connect with me.”
Taking in his words with a determined nod, you searched within you for the feeling he spoke of.
This time, you didn’t close your eyes. You were already familiar with the taste of your power in your veins, and found it with little effort.
But you stared into those gold eyes as you searched for him, the sight of them making it easier to find the corresponding sensation. Colliding with your power, you were surprised to stumble across a warmth pulsing against them. You hadn’t even realised you had followed the flow of your powers outside your fingertips; the feeling hadn’t altered as far as you could tell.
Sure enough, however, there was Jungkook – it was undeniable. Inexplicably, the intensity of his eyes felt the exact same as the fiery power rushing to meet your own lightning.
Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s lips twitched into a smirk.
“You can feel it, right?”
Now you had found it, it was easy to hold onto the sensation of his powers as they met your own.
Elated, you exhaled with a smile. His grew too.
“I’m going to push back now,” he said, “keep the connection. It’ll be like arm wrestling, only with our powers.”
You knew you should have felt a little sceptical about that. If it was anything like arm wrestling, Jungkook would be able to topple you in a second. He had been training much longer than you, and was undeniably stronger.
In fact, all you felt was an ignition in your chest, competitiveness flaring up inside you.
Jungkook’s expression shifted into focus. His smirk slipped into a concentrated line.
Where the gold in his eyes had been rippling lazily, it now grew in ferocity, blazing harshly in contrast to the abysses of his dark pupils.
The instant his powers switched, you felt it. No longer a soft warmth, they sent a jolt through you as they connected in earnest, the threads of your electricity fusing together like wires and throwing out a ball of sparks.
The molten light warred in the air between you, your eyes no doubt as vivid as Jungkook’s as you allowed more power through your palms to match his force.
To your surprise, they complied instantly. It seemed your powers were enjoying being let out like this, having lashed out the last time when you had stubbornly forced them to stop and start. With the growing power flowing from you, their connection with Jungkook strengthened as well. You could sense a distinctly gold force clashing with your powers.
Even though you could see the point where your powers converged, the feeling allowed you to notice every minute crackle of electricity, every pulse of Jungkook’s lightning.
Just like before, when you had lifted the target, your powers felt much more than just a fleeting rush of sparks. They formed a bridge outwards from your body, reaching beyond.
You felt strong.
And if Jungkook wanted to wrestle, you weren’t going to go down easily.
Channelling yet more power outwards, you pushed hard against his gold powers where they met your own.
For a moment, you succeeded in subduing the opposing force. Sparks flew again, Jungkook staggering back a step as the gold light retreated from your advance, blue dominating the bolt of energy that connected you two.
Jungkook smiled.
The next moment, it became clear he had been waiting for you to get used to the feeling and make a move. But you had no time to be touched by his newfound patience as you found yourself battling against a renewed burst of pressure from his end.
Raising your arms to be level with your shoulders, aiming at him, you gritted your teeth and stubbornly weathered the temptation to step back as his powers shoved against yours.
Now both of you were using all your energy, the connection was more vivid than before. You could sense every vein of the electricity, his as well as yours. Finding strength from somewhere, you resisted his onslaught and managed to take a step forwards.
Your tussle continued, fire against fire, both of you matching the other’s power but advancing until you were practically toe to toe.
Outstretched, slightly above your head, your hands were level, vibrant light still connecting them although his palm was just inches from yours. A waterfall of blue and gold sparks fell between your faces while you stared at each other with blazing eyes. Your breathing was heavy, trying to keep up with his relentless power, but Jungkook was also panting, damp hair falling over his eyes.
You were out of breath, but the warm air brushing over your face from Jungkook’s lips assured you that you weren’t the only one.
A sharp, exhilarated smile lit up his mouth. A brow quirked, his words breathless as he spoke.
“Not bad. Hold it…”
Sucking in a breath, you prepared for one last effort. Avoiding Jungkook’s eyes had long left your priority list, and now you were drawn in by the burning gold within them. It was like you were staring at the sun, but you couldn’t look away, not even when their light grew, yet more of his power flowing through you.
His gaze burned just as intently back, eyes trained on your own which were surely lit up blue. A slight crease formed in his brow, perhaps from concentration…
Again, you matched his power even as he overloaded the connection, more and more energy sparking in the air-
His gaze flitted away, the connection cutting abruptly.
For a moment, the brightness of the sparks, and Jungkook’s eyes, left dazzling prints on your vision even as they sputtered from existence. Air rushed in and out of your lungs, the exertion not hitting you until now.
Without the channel to focus your energy, you staggered back from Jungkook, blinking in the relative dimness.
Sensing the strength that had drained from you, you let yourself take another step to sink against the wall behind you. Breathing still heavy, you looked up at Jungkook. Though his chest heaved too, cheeks slightly flushed under his dripping hair, he hadn’t moved an inch.
Only when you met his eyes, which had returned to their regular darkness, did he start, quickly marching away to grab water bottles from the corner of the room.
One flew in your direction. Just about managing to snatch it from the air, you took an eager sip. Now you had had time to catch your breath, a strange silence settled.
“How did it feel?”
Jungkook wasn’t even looking at you. He had made his way to the bottom of the staircase, and now leaned against them, apparently finding the floor very interesting.
Hesitantly, you made your way closer, following a step behind as he started climbing back to the main house.
“Yeah, my powers, they feel… it wasn’t painful,” you replied, “they’re like normal again.”
Jungkook nodded.
“You did good. Still, don’t push it.”
By then, you had reached the top of the stairs. After pausing for a moment, Jungkook awkwardly moved away to the kitchen, while you hung back to have a shower.
The odd tension that had clung to the space between you since training occupied your mind as the water flowed over you, reinvigorating your tired body. In a way, it was just like usual. You and Jungkook had never been comfortable around each other.
But then why did it feel odd now?
The training session had given you a taste of something different. For once, Jungkook hadn’t spent the time trying to antagonise you. Instead, you had a real chance to push yourself.
It was probably the fact that, after so long without using your powers, you simply missed feeling the rush of electricity. No matter if it was also because connecting with Jungkook's powers had felt so thrilling too.
That thought was gone as quickly as the water running over you. Outside the training room at least, you knew where you stood. And that was very, very far from Jungkook.
Which is why you were so perplexed when you reached the kitchen, and didn’t find it empty.
Pausing in the hallway, you honestly considered turning back around and leaving. Trust Jungkook to try and claim the kitchen since you were absent.
But you weren’t going to be deterred. You were hungry.
It was his fault anyway, for training you so hard, so you took a breath and pushed your damp hair behind your shoulder before striding into the space.
At first, you made your best attempt at keeping your chin up, confident while also acting as if you magically couldn’t see Jungkook at all. It was how you usually approached each other. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stop yourself from noticing that whatever he was making wasn’t going well.
Halfway through throwing your own ingredients onto the counter, you stopped to cast a sceptical eye over the mess he was making. He was making an equally good show of not noticing your presence, and continued throwing in random sauces, not before eyeing them all fairly hesitantly first.
Biting your lip, you shrugged it off and turned your eyes back to your own dinner.
But you could no longer ignore it when he took a taste from his spoon and quite literally recoiled.
Loudly putting your knife down, you sighed in frustration.
“Do you want some help?”
Quickly straightening out his face from the way it had been screwed up from the taste, he blinked around at you. He really did look surprised at your presence.
You rolled your eyes, marching over to him and peering into his pan.
“What are you making?”
Folding his arms across his chest, you could hear the pout in his voice as he replied.
“Tteokbokki.”
You stared. At the food, which certainly did not resemble tteokbokki, and then at Jungkook.
“No you’re not.”
“I am! Jin always makes it like this!”
“Maybe when he’s making something for his science experiments,” you scoffed.
Defiant, Jungkook reached for his packet of soft rice cakes, totally ignoring you. You had to lunge across the counter to save them from a grizzly fate in that pan of definitely not tteokbokki.
Deep down, he clearly agreed with you, because he didn’t protest all that much as you forcibly removed the pan from the stove, depositing the whole mess in the bin.
“This is how you’ve been eating?”
Jungkook looked a little startled, his eyes wide for a moment before he managed to resurrect his scowl.
“We ran out of ramen,” he muttered.
You stared at him in disbelief. Had no one taught him to cook?
“What would Jin say?” you huffed, returning to the stove and elbowing him out the way.
Before long, you had your own meal cooking, now with some extra added. After a few moments, Jungkook had skulked away, watching you silently from the table. Once again, you pretended not to pay him any mind.
Two steaming bowls of (actually edible) food eventually made it to the table.
Sitting down opposite him, neither of you began for a moment. Each of you was waiting for the other to do something.
When at last you reached for your chopsticks, the sound was deafening against the strained silence between you.
Perhaps Jungkook was encouraged to see you didn’t drop dead after taking a bite, because he finally started to eat as well. Not that you let yourself look at him beyond the odd brief glance. You kept your attention firmly on the meal, which was actually quite tasty if you did say so yourself.
“Thanks.”
You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes shooting up to stare at Jungkook. He stopped mid-bite, big eyes returning your bewildered gaze as if he had no idea who had spoken.
You blinked. Clearing your throat, you averted your gaze again, picking at your food.
“No problem.”
“It’s nearly as good as Jin’s,” he drawled next.
Disbelieving, you swallowed your next bite and raised your eyebrows.
“Are you seriously trying to come for me after I gave you food?”
“That’s a compliment!” he defended.
“Sure.”
“Fine,” he huffed, attacking his food a bit more aggressively.
Taking a breath, you chewed your lip. Jungkook took a bite with more force than strictly necessary, brows furrowed. Maybe he had really meant it in a nice way?
You had trouble believing that, somehow.
“It’s a hell of a lot better than yours would have been,” you grumbled, then paused. “but… I suppose Jin is a very good chef.”
For a moment, Jungkook didn’t reply. But he finished chewing and set his chopsticks down a bit more gently.
“Why would I have to practise cooking when he’s always here to do it?” he murmured.
Deciding for once to take the opportunity to ease the situation, you smiled.
“I don’t blame you.”
Both of you allowed a temporary ceasefire to settle as you cleared your plates. You didn’t miss Jungkook’s glance towards the little black receiver standing on the table.
With the frequency of operations at the moment, it was clear Namjoon classed the whole situation with Bolt as an emergency. Jungkook hadn’t been wrong – Jin was usually there, or one of the others, to cook. As much as it still surprised you that he was so clueless, you saw that prying was going to get you nowhere.
He wasn’t the only one that missed the others, though. Or hoped they were okay.
You leaned over and turned the receiver on.
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Thank you for reading! I really mean it, it's wonderful now I'm finally sharing this story to hear what you guys think as we go through it!! I appreciate every last one of you who comments💜💜
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wilcze-kudly · 2 days
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The tragedy of Avatar's "Funny Guys"
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So... Sokka and Bolin are both "the funny guy" of their respective group, we can all agree on this. Now comic relief characters aren't rare in media and often they exist purely to be said comic relief, with little nuance or storyline of their own.
But Avatar strays from this rule by giving their comedic relief characters a lot of depth.
Both Sokka and Bolin have been through some awful stuff. They've dealt with loss and plenty of adversity.
Sokka lost his mother as a child. After that, his father left for a war, basically leaving Sokka to care for his sister and village. And, to his credit, Sokka took his duties very seriously. You can see how protective he is of Katara and the members of his tribe, trying to defend them even when he's clearly outnumbered and outmatched. This also bled through into his role within the Gaang, where he acts as provider, strategist and organiser.
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As for Bolin, he was orphaned as a small child, forced to live at least 10 years homeless. His horrific childhood trauma leads to him lacking a lot in social skills and confidence. And throughout the show he is manipulated, used and, quite frankly, abused multiple times.
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But we already knew that, right?
We've seen them in their respective shows and we've heard their backstories explained to us. They share most of their backgrounds with their siblings, so it's not a leap in logic to say that they most likely have similar trauma.
So, why is that their "angst" isn't taken as seriously as, say, Katara's and Mako's?
I'd the main reason really is the fact that they are meant to lighten the mood.
This is unlike Katara and Mako, whose roles allow them to express their grief and pain more freely, the creators going so far as to incorporate symbols of their trauma into their designs.
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Katara and Mako's actions are often more easily related to their trauma. Because their characters are more obviously tied to their trauma.
We, for example can understand Katara stealing a waterbending scroll and relate it to her need to connect with her almost completely destroyed culture. We can see Mako have difficulties connecting with people and recognise that this is most likely due to his troubled past.
Sokka and Bolin are more... tricky. We don't always think about the in world reasoning of their characters. Often, we just assume that they're doing something to be funny.
We see Sokka insisting to be the leader as: haha, funny bossy guy. Instead of: damn, this kid has been conditioned to take so much responsibility for the safety and well-being of others.
We see Bolin bending over backwards to please Eska as: oh, that Bolin, such a silly guy. Instead of: oh, shit this teenager spent his entire life as a dependent to his brother so his decisionmaking skills and backbone are probably extremely stunted.
This isn't helped by the fact that these character's pain, distress, grief and sadness are often played for laughs. And yeah, often the scene is funny. But that doesn't negate the character's in-world suffering.
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I think this is what occasionally can be quite upsetting to me when people don't take this character seriously because they're "only meant to be there for the comedy". Maybe with a more straightforward show, I'd take that answer, but Avatar leaves us these pretty obvious breadcrumbs.
Avatar is a pretty well crafted show, in the end and most of the main cast have their nuances and storylines that raise them above the tropes they're meant to represent.
PS: This is not to say that Sokka and Katara have the same trauma, nor that Mako and Bolin have the same trauma. Both pairs of siblings took up different roles in their respective dynamics.
For example, Sokka visibly takes up the role as defender, provider and planner, wheras Katara deals with the more domestic tasks (yay sexism). This shows in how their trauma manifests in dufferent ways. Sokka's need to prove himself vs Katara's frustration at her percieved "role" in society.
Mako and Bolin's past is more nebulous, but I would argue Bolin still played an important role in his and Mako's lives. Bolin is cheerful and bubbly, almost by design. It wouldn't be a leap in logic to assume that a bit of that cheer may be fabricated in order to keep going. Bolin's lack of personal growth due to being Mako's dependent is also a symptom of his trauma.
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It also bears to mention that these character's competence is also often downplayed due to the humorous ways in which they fail. Sokka planned an invasion on an entire nation that would've succeeded had it not been for Azula gaining insider information. He invented submarines. While Bolin is one of the most efficient and powerful earthbenders combatwise (I'm tired of pretending he's a mid bender the only thing stopping my man from commiting mass murder is his heart of gold). They are not just haha funny idiots. Put some respect on their names.
Ok I'm done stating the obvious now.
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kazutora-kurokawa · 3 days
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lol I was thinking about how tenjiku's boys would react if one day his daughter brings a boy to their house and introduces him as her boyfriend, that shit is going to get crazy
Tenjiku When Their Daughter Brings Home Her Boyfriend
♡ SFW, fluff, pettiness, they're all single dads + protective dads ♡
Characters: Izana, Kakucho, Ran, Rindou, Mucho, Mochi, Shion
note: shit is indeed going to get crazy lol, thanks for requesting anon 🩷 also bf/n = boyfriend name
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Izana
🎴 Absolutely livid. No one is good enough for his daughter and he'll die on that hill.
"Y/n..who is this?"
"Dad this is bf/n, my boyfriend."
Refuses to shake your boyfriend's hand and mean mugs him the whole time he's there.
Kakucho
🩷 Super supportive but also protective. He can accept that you have a boyfriend, he just needs to vet the guy and make sure he's right for you. He won't bring up any worries while your boyfriend is actually around, he wouldn't want to offend him. Gives you a lecture on self-respect and healthy relationships. 10/10 father.
Ran
💜 He's so fucking rude, he'd let you in the house and close the door in your boyfriend's face.
"Dad! What the hell?"
"Oops, my bad."
He apologizes after you scold him, he's more of a child than you honestly. Eventually gives in and gets to know your boyfriend and concludes that he's okay.
Rindou
🩵 Doesn't like the idea of you dating but doesn't want to come off as too overprotective. He'll get to know your boyfriend and doesn't mind him coming over, as long as you keep the door open.
"You two have fun, I'll be in the living room if you need me..and keep the door open. If I see it closed you're losing door privileges, I'll take it off the hinges."
Mucho
💙 He's a big, intimidating man. Enough said for real. As soon as your boyfriend steps foot in the house, he's interrogating him.
"What's your name? What do your parents do? What do you want to pursue in life? Why are you interested in my daughter?"
Mochi
🍡 Another big, intimidating man. He's super chill compared to Mucho though, he'll actually get to know your boyfriend and joke around with him. They go from strangers to besties in a day.
"Y'know what? You're alright kid."
He'd probably stay friends with him if you two broke up.
Shion
♥️ He's probably more nervous than your boyfriend. He just wants you to be happy and if your boyfriend makes you happy then it's all cool. But he makes it clear what happens if he hurts you though.
"Listen kid, you seem to make my little girl happy...but if I ever see her sad because of you, or a hair out of place on her pretty head, I'm gonna break every bone in your body. One by one, slowly and methodically."
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‘OURS’
Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.
INDEX
Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)
Chapter 10 - He’s All Yours | ‘Ours’
The final day of your trip to New York arrived. You and Trent wanted to do some shopping. It was cold but still sunny out so you opted to head down to SoHo for it. You hit it up Prada, Aime Leon Dore, Acne Studios, and all your favorites. You wanted to stop at Sporty & Rich as well so you pushed Teddy in her pram down the pavement of Greene Street holding Trent’s hand. About half way down the block a Tiktokker came up to you trying to film a video.
“Your family is gorgeous, do you mind if I ask you a few questions for a video?” The boy asked, standing with a microphone while someone else filmed for him. You looked at Trent to see his reaction. You didn’t mind but you also weren’t the famous athlete.
“Thanks, mate. Yeah, it’s no problem.” Trent answered him while he pressed a kiss to your hair before he leaned over to check on Teddy. Seeing him elicited a giggle from her as she kicked her feet in her seat.
“Can I get your names first?” The interviewer asked politely. You looked at Trent for him to respond. You didn’t know what his plan of action would be here so you wanted him to take the lead.
“This is my fiancé, Y/N, I’m Trent, and this is Teddy.” He spoke soft and slow like always as he tickled her tummy. She continued in her fit of giggles with a big smile.
“Nice to meet you all. Where are you from, bro? That accent is crazy.” The kid laughed a little surprised by Trent’s diction. You guessed you were around it so much you hardly heard it anymore but you understood why someone living in New York might be confused by the Liverpudlian accent.
“It’s definitely something.” You giggled resting your head on Trent's shoulder. “I’m from here but he’s English.” You looked up at Trent as you informed the tiktokker.
“Nah, no way that’s English. It’s not.” The boy tried to convince you Trent wasn’t English. He wasn’t going to succeed obviously, it was just a bit of banter but he obviously assumed everyone in England had one accent that you presumably believed to be the more London posh one.
“Hate to disappoint, bro but I’m definitely from the north of England. Liverpool.” Trent confirmed he in fact was English.
“Oh sick. Do you guys watch soccer then? That’s big there right?” He asked genuinely curious. You appreciated the conversational manner he was trying to induce. It was friendly and polite. Normal. You both laughed a little not trying to be rude or patronizing but it was funny.Trent was famous but if you didn’t follow football it was a bit of a reach to recognize him. Nevertheless, to say you watched ‘soccer’ would be an understatement.
“Yeah… I guess you could say we do. Our life pretty much revolves around it.” You giggled more before Teddy started making some noises. You crouched down to her level. You picked her up and she clung to you eagerly.
“Wow, she’s adorable. So do you mind running me through your fits?” The boy cooed as his camera man moved for a different angle to include the full length of what you were wearing.
“Aw, thank you. Yeah, this is our little Teddy bear. She’s in Moncler.” You pinched her chubby cheek rubbing your cold nose against hers.” Erm… and I’m wearing Max Mara.” You were in a long Teddy coat that felt like you were still wrapped up in bed. “Louis Vuitton boots and a silly Saint Laurent take out box for a purse.” You laughed displaying your bag.
“That purse is incredible. I love it. What drew you to that?” He asked inspecting the kitschy leather box.
“It was a pregnancy craving. I give him a baby, he gives me a bag. It was a simple transaction.” you teased with a slight laugh looking at Trent amused.
“A bag?” Trent joked emphasizing that he most definitely bought you more than one singular bag during your ‘cravings’. He was in a Prada coat, trousers and trainers. Simple and all black. The kid had a few questions but flicked back to you.
“Mind talking me through some of your jewelry?” He asked so you nodded and started going piece by piece. “ My necklace is Van Cleef.” You smiled. It was the one you always wore that Trent gave you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. Only now it was a little funny because as you went through the rings on your finger, from your right hand starting with a David Yurman pinky ring first then to your Spinelli Kilcollin. You jumped over to your left hand and ultimately got to your ring finger with its newly adorned ring.
“Holy shit! That ring is insane. It’s beautiful. Congratulations. Bro, can I ask what do you do for work.” The boy keenly asked Trent curious what some random man he was interviewing on the street did to afford that. Trent rubbed his hand over his face, a little embarrassed by the spotlight on him and the size of your ring. He wanted you to have it be that way though. He designed it from scratch practically and he frankly believed you deserved a bigger one.
“I’m a footballer.” Trent answered plain and simple like always. With people he didn’t know Trent was always concise. He didn’t beat around the bush.
“Like the NFL?” The interviewer's eyes widened, starting to believe he was talking to a professional athlete. He was, just not kind he was initially thinking. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Trent was strong and athletic. I mean, he’s perfect and sexy but him playing in the NFL would be far fetched. You mouthed a ‘sorry’ up at Trent for your blunt reaction holding onto his bicep
“No.” Trent laughed with you, agreeing that it definitely was funny. “Nah, mate. Soccer, I guess.” Trent cringed saying the word. “I play in the Premier League.” He further explained. You felt his body tense saying that word. It made you smile remembering in the first few weeks of dating he convinced you to drop the word soccer entirely.
“Oh that’s so cool. Shit, now I feel like an idiot. I asked if you watched it.” He laughed nervously running his hand through his hair staring at the ground. You reached your arm out to pat his arm reassuring him it wasn’t a big deal.
“Don’t, he’s not that big of a deal.” You teased. Trent squeezed your waist silently complaining that you’d say that joke or not. The TikTok interview ended and he asked for your instagram handles to tag you when it was posted. You shared them not thinking much.
“Um 11 million followers is a big deal, Jesus.” The interviewer looked at his friend who was filming as you walked away with your family.
You sat in an airport lounge waiting to board your flight back into Manchester. You were slumped on a couch with your forever accessory clung to you. Teddy cooed away as if she was having a full conversation with you. You nodded along with ‘yeahs’ and ‘mmhmms’ entertaining her. You peeked your head up briefly away from her though to check on Trent. He was sitting across from you, legs spread scrolling through his phone. He looked good. Really good so you sent him a cheeky text.
‘Dadddyyyy 🥵🥵🥵’
You obviously sent it as a joke. You watched him read it and shake his head. He didn’t pick his gaze up though. He just shot you a text back.
‘Relax, please. We’re in an airport 🙄’
“Never stopped you before.” You said aloud. After receiving his response.
“Yeah, well, it’s stopping me right now.” He laughed. He stood up and walked over to you, plopping down on the couch you were sitting on. “Ted, isn’t mummy silly?” He cooed. She just drooled a little and you shrugged as if Teddy had responded ‘no, dad she’s not.’ You cuddled into him and laid on his chest as cozy and appropriately as you could given your location.
“I was thinking… T, do you think it’s bad we told that TikToker we were engaged?” You asked him quietly looking at your ring currently resting on Trent’s thigh.
“Do you not want to be engaged?” He said in a dramatic overly offended way. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. “Give it back then.” He swiftly went to take your ring off your finger. You snatched your hand away from him before he could.
“T! Stop! I’m so serious.” You laughed despite trying not to. “I’m worried.” You looked at him with fear in your eyes. A look he hated to see and a look he always wanted to fix as quick as possible. He sat up a little and cupped one of your cheeks.
“Nah, baby it’ll be the same thing we’ve done with other news as always. If people find out, people find out. If we want to post, we can post. Try not stress about this one. Let’s just enjoy this. Me and you.” He cooed soft and securely. He had a tone he’d fall into that just calmed your whole body. You collapsed into his chest some more before Teddy pulled at his shirt. “Oh yeah, sorry, you too. You’re included obviously.” He joked looking at her.
“We’re a package deal, aren’t we, baby?” You kissed Teddy’s cheek before returning your head to its comfortable place on Trent. You pulled Teddy with you.
“Sign me up then.” Trent cooed, wrapping his arms around both of you. “My girls always.”
You boarded the plane and walked to first class. Trent handled all of your carry ons. You sat down holding teddy and everything was fine. That was until Trent sat down and gently pinched Teddy’s chubby little leg and she screamed with a loud giggle.
“Shhhhh. Teddy girl, you have to be quiet.” He said muddied in a laugh. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face. He looked at you wide eyed and jaw slacked about how loud she seemed on the quiet plane.
“Oh” you began to laugh. “I forgot you haven’t flown with this cute girl yet.” You squished Teddy into a hug recalling your first flight. You have to give credit where it’s due she was actually pretty well behaved it’s just that her squeals seemed to be inordinately loud in the cabin of the plane.
“Oh my days. Can’t be doing that, Ted.” He picked her up from you. And sat her on his lap over on his seat next to the window. He rested his chin on the top of her head while they looked outside. She kicked and giggled, pulling on his hair having the time of her life with daddy.
“Yeah, you handle all that.” You laughed gesturing to Teddy. “I need to sleep on this flight.” You smiled connivingly, watching Teddy stir about in his lap.
“You sleep. Me and Ted will hang. Right, baby bear?” Trent cooed looking down at her. She had a big smile on her face and that was all that really mattered. He reached his hand out and squeezed yours. Before you knew it you were landing back in England.
You got home and collapsed on to your livingroom couch. The dogs ran chaotically towards you hopping onto the cushions and laid on you excited you were finally back home.
“Hi boyssss…” you cooed giving them all the attention they so missed. Marcel usually watched them if you weren’t around. You don’t know how you’d survive without Trent’s family. They did so much for you. You were so blessed to be invited into the Alexander-Arnold family. Every so often for the last few days you’d get reminded that you were going to change your name. It felt strange. You hadn’t really digested it fully yet. Trent came over to sit after he had changed Teddy.
“Want to watch a movie or something? I’m exhausted and I have training early tomorrow.” Trent said handing you your baby and proceeding to practically lay on top of you wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping his head in your lap.
“You pick.” You hummed, not upset by his intrusion of your space.
Teddy was 6 months old today. You were in the kitchen and Teddy was in her high chair. Trent was off for training soon so you were making breakfast for him and Teddy. Lately, you’d been skipping breakfast. You were finding that getting the baby weight off wasn’t has easy as you had anticipated. You’d always been so fit and athletic you thought you’d just bounce back but that wasn’t the case. You were working out again but it was hard to find the time or energy now when you were taking care of a baby al day. It definitely didn’t help that you lived with someone who was chronically in shape. Trent’s fitness was an essential part of his job. Teddy was still breastfeeding. It was still her main source of nutrition which was fine but it wasn’t enough so you were beginning to introduce solid food to her. She was growing so fast it almost made you a little sad. The breakfast for your 6 month old today was porridge and mashed fruit.
“That looks…. “ Trent made a face not particularly enticed by the dish walking into the kitchen. You laughed at him. He pushed the plate away from you before he came to give a kiss.
“It’s good for a 6 month old!!! Huh, Ted? Getting to be such a big girl!” You cooed excitedly as she wiggled in her chair with hungry eyes.
“My baby bear, gotta stop growing please. Have to stay just like this forever.” Trent cooed sitting next to her. He gave her a big kiss against her little pout with an ever dramatic ‘Mwah’ sound that she loved. She giggled grabbing at him with her tiny hands.
“Like what happened?” You walked towards the two of them with her food. “She got so old. I feel like we just brought her home.” You cooed taking a seat.
“Yeah…” he hummed reminiscing about your first days as a family of 3. “We did a really good job to be fair like she’s perfect. Look at this face.” He squished her cheeks together with one of his big hands. Anytime Trent did anything, said anything, Teddy would be giggling away. Completely in love and very amused by him. .
“That’s genuinely your face, T. She is you.” You teased him. They looked just about identical. Even Dianne was shocked from the second she saw Teddy at the hospital the day she was born. They were twins and Trent loved it. You did like it too. Whenever he was away it was like you had a mini version of him around that didn’t talk or eat as much.
“Mmmm, it’s yummy, baby.” You took a baby spoon and tried to get Teddy to eat. “T, eat some. She’ll do it if you do it.” He gave you a face like ‘are you fucking having a laugh?’ He had a weird thing with food textures and porridge was on the list of things he’d prefer to avoid .
“Mmm yum Ted.” He grimaced while swallowing the smallest possible bit of your baby’s food. He turned away from Teddy for only you to see and made a face as if he was going to be sick.
“Very convincing, T.” You laughed. “Not even our 6 month old is buying that.” You teased him for his poor performance. He was such a drama queen all the time which was getting progressively more funny as his actions mirrored the ones your literal child did. You continued feeding her porridge and fruit as Teddy finally gave in. You fed her slowly and patiently but persistent. You felt a little guilty though pushing so hard for her to eat. It was ironic trying to get your baby girl to eat her breakfast to grow strong and be healthy when you were currently skipping meals to get back to what once was. What was unfortunate was the likelihood of returning back to your body you had before a baby was slim, almost impossible. You could get fit, lose weight but the big changes, your hips, your boobs, things had changed that you couldn’t alter. You had thought you kept a pretty tight lid on your feelings about your body because Trent hated when you spoke negatively about yourself. You may have kept quiet but the thing was, you weren’t all that subtle with your actions. You thought he didn’t notice but he kept tabs on you all the time. He knew you struggled. You'd talked about it plenty of times and he wanted to make sure you were okay with out making you uncomfortable. So this morning as he drank a protein shake and your little girl devoured all her food. It wasn’t lost on him you sat at the table and only had a lemon water. Trent’s livelihood depended on his fitness. It stressed you out wondering what people would think about the way you looked now. When you looked in the mirror it felt like a different person. The anxiety was almost debilitating as you got ready for a home match at Anfield. Trent was ecstatic because you finally caved and decided that at 6 months you could probably bring Teddy to finally go see him play.
You got into your car with Teddy tucked in her car seat. She was in her red Liverpool jersey #66 with daddy on the back. She had on a sweat set (imagine this in red) with it and tiny white Nike trainers on. She looked really really cute. You didn’t really dress yourself with the same team spirit per se as you had dressed her. You’d been to too many games at this point. It was just one of many. You threw on a pair of dark jeans that were finally starting to fit you again, an oversized black Celine sweater that was Trent’s you stole with black Dior slingback heels and you guessed what was a topical red shearling bag from Khaite. You walked through the stadium keeping a low profile. No one else from the Alexander-Arnold family was going tonight so you didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. Although it was particularly unhelpful that the spitting image of Trent in your arms would squeal and try to point at the walls anytime you walked past a massive image of him. You held Teddy in your arms outside the box overlooking the pitch.
“Is that daddy? Do you see dada?” You cooed sweet and she giggled just simply hearing about him. You attempted to point down to where Trent was warming up. Following his movements with your finger for her but you were pretty sure she couldn’t make out that it was him but it was still fun and cute to watch. Trent stopped his preparations momentarily to scan the stands for you. He found the box and combed through the people to find you and Teddy. He blew you a kiss and made a heart with his hands. You laughed and squeezed Teddy some more. “Say hi to dada, Ted. We’ll blow him a kiss, okay?” Helping her press her palm to her pout identical to his to blow him a kiss. “Good job, Teddy bear.” You praised her efforts. You blew him your own kiss. Andy came over to Trent on the pitch and threw his arm around his shoulder. You could see them yapping away you assumed about Teddy. Andy waved and so you did back. Having Teddy at the match was really special. This was a moment you and Trent always dreamed of.
When the final whistle blew you waited upstairs for Trent as you always did but this time you had company. It was fun and nice. You felt like you had made yourself a best friend and even though she couldn’t even talk yet. You just liked her company.
“I heard the real TAA is here tonight.” You heard Andy’s voice before you could see him. A few boys walked into the room. Trent obviously came first directly over to you. He planted a big kiss on your lips and then took Teddy to say hi to the other guys that came up with him.
“I think congratulations are in order. Go on, let’s see it.” Robbo pressed eager to see your new engagement ring. You stuck out your hand and wiggled your fingers to show it off. They oooo’d and ahhh’d teasing you and Trent all out of love.
“Thank you.” You smiled cheekily watching your fiancé walk to the big glass windows of the box with Teddy in his arms. He proudly pointed around the stadium telling her little things, the pitch, the goals.
“I wanna bring her down to the pitch.” Trent turned to you. You nodded. When you got down to the level Trent walked you out through the tunnel. You didn’t do this often so it was still a pretty cool experience for you. Trent didn’t bat an eye, it was old hat for him. You intertwined your hand with Trent’s as he carried Teddy out onto the pitch. He walked to the center and sat down with her on the perfectly cut and pristine grass.
“This is where daddy works. What do you think, baby? Maybe you can play here one day like me.” He babbled away as Teddy’s eyes lit watching his animated face explain to her how a corner kick works. Necessary information for your 6 month old. It was precious watching them. You stood a small distance away letting them have their moment but you were getting nervous she was cold after being outside for so long.
“T, can you zip her up please, I don’t want her to get chilly.” You cooed sweetly as Teddy cuddled close to Trent. He smiled and placed the back of his hand onto her chubby cheek trying to gage if she was. He looked at her little nose that was starting to run and he felt bad.
“Are you chilly, baby bear?” Trent cooed but she just giggled clumsily falling onto his chest nuzzling her face to his. “Okay, C’mere.” Trent picked her up some and zipped her tiny puffer coat and then unzipped the Nike tech he was in. He held her closer to his chest and zipped his jacket up over the two of them. “Much better now, hm?” He kissed her forehead. You stayed way to late at Anfield but Trent was happy. When it was getting closer to when Teddy usually went down for bed, you needed to call it a night and get home.
After her first match, Teddy definitely was able to put together that when you watched matches on TV it was daddy. When the cameras would pan to just Trent she would squeal and wiggle on your lap. She couldn’t talk yet but you felt like she was getting there making ‘da’ noises when she saw him. She finally was getting the ability to perceive music and toys. She’d hold the bear rattle Marcel got her for Christmas all day just shaking it and giggling. Every time he was over at your house he was gassed that it was her toy of choice to hold. You were so relieved she was a happy baby. It made you feel like you were doing an okay job. Her giggle acting as a confirmation. She was actively paying attention and responding to her name a bit more now too. It was amazing to watch something, a human, your baby, grow and learn.
You laid on the couch one late afternoon with Teddy cuddled up to you under a blanket watching a show on tv for her. She started to whine and you deduced that she was hungry or thirsty. You paused the show and suddenly she began to cry.
“What, Ted? What’s wrong.” You attempted to soothe her but laughed a little bit that when you hit play again for the show to resume she seemed to calm. You stood up with the show still playing on the telly, holding her to walk but she began to cry again. “Teddy, I can’t get you what you want if you won’t let me go and sorry, but you’re not big enough to sit on the couch without me, are you?” You giggled. You wiped away her tears and plopped yourself back down feeling defeated but determined to find a solution. Your solution was somewhere else in the house. You grabbed your phone and FaceTimed Trent. He was in the cinema watching god knows what. He answered assuming it was going to be you so his tone was slightly different than the one he had if he was speaking to Teddy.
“What do you…” he paused realizing it wasn’t just you. “Oh, wow. What did I do to deserve a call from the most beautiful girls in the world?” You rolled your eyes at his cheesiness and readjusted your hold of Teddy.
“We’re thirsty.” You said plain and simple but gave him no other context. Teddy sniffled with a tiny grin and her breathing began to slowed now that she was able to see Trent.
“Okay?” Trent was slightly confused. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, he just didn’t know or understand what he was being asked to do. He sat up a bit straighter in his chair.
“Teddy girl, do you need a baba?” You cooed looking at her. Again, she couldn’t talk but Trent picked up on what he was indirectly being asked to do now.
“I’m going to get it but just out of curiosity, why you couldn't?” He laughed. You paused the TV again and Teddy began to fuss pulling at your shirt. Her breathing getting shorter, tears welling. Trent nodded catching on that clearly Teddy was in a mood. “I see. Alright, I will be right there, baby bear.” A short while later he arrived, bottle in hand.
“I have a baba for a Ms. Teddy Alexander Arnold.” You heard Trent’s footsteps walk around the couch. Teddy’s eyes lit up seeing Trent come in. She grabbed eagerly for her bottle. “I don’t even get a thank you? Sheessshhh.” He dropped down on the seat next to you on the couch.
“Can you say thank you, dada? We love you so much. Takes such good care of us. Huh?” You rested your head onto Trent. He leaned back and kicked his feet up on the couch grabbing Teddy to lay on his chest with her bottle.
“Just like mummy, ya know? So needy for daddy.” Trent continued to babble to Teddy teasing you indirectly.
“Excuse me?” You laughed with feigned offense. You attempted to cuddle up into Trent but Teddy wasn’t having it. She let out grumpy ‘pah’ noises. She scrunched her nose. Your eyes widened, surprised by her response. “Sorry, okay. He’s all yours I guess.” You held your hands up in innocence. You pretended to be outwardly upset for Teddy to understand and see. You pouted your lips dramatically. The thing was that it actually did hurt your feelings a little. She loved being with Trent all the time lately. Why did she not want you there as well?
“Can mummy join, please? Have to share.” Trent cooed to her. He pulled you into him despite her protests. He kissed you on the lips and you would’ve thought she had gotten hurt or something. The way she yelped. She almost started to cry again, eyes watering, getting upset and annoyed you were kissing her dad. Her grubby little hands grabbing for Trent.
“Okay, okay. I get it. Daddy’s all yours. He was mine first just saying.” You playfully bit at one of her chubby legs dangling off Trent’s torso. “I’m gonna go start dinner for us.” You turned looking up at Trent.
“Yeah, alright. Thank you, baby.” Trent cooed, squeezing you to him once more to your daughters displeasure before you got up. About halfway to the kitchen you could hear her giggles start up again. You had thought they were a confirmation of you doing a good job but maybe you weren’t, maybe only Trent was. Insecurity getting the best of you, not even just the best, it was getting all of you.
“Wowwww mummmmy.” Trent had come home from training to find you in the kitchen bouncing Teddy on your hip. You turned your head to look at him unimpressed. As of late, you didn’t feel very great about yourself and certainly far from sexy.
“Please stop.” You rejected his compliment. He had come home in the late afternoon but you had plans to go out tonight. Dianne was going to take Teddy and the turnaround time you had was tight so you were getting a little stressed.
“You’ve been looking so good lately, honest.” He came up and held you from behind, placing tender kisses onto the most sensitive parts of your neck. You hummed. Even though you weren't feeling your sexiest Trent definitely knew just how to make you feel good.
“I am going to feed her then I have to go get ready, shower and all that before your mum comes over.” You turned in to Trent. Teddy grabbing onto his jumper excited he was finally back home.
“I can help you shower if you want.” He gave you a cheeky smile that was so pretty and very hard to resist but you couldn’t do that right now. You really had to hurry. Teddy had been attached to you all day preventing you from getting things you needed to do done.
“No, T.” You laughed. “Someone needs to watch this little bear. Been so fussy all day.” You handed her to him and to no surprise she was thrilled. “She literally cried every time I did anything but hold her.” It only made matters worse when you handed her to him she was calm, giggly, and happy. Of course, she'd behave for him. You hopped upstairs and jumped into the shower starting the process of getting ready. When you were finished you sat in your wardrobe and sighed. You felt like absolutely nothing looked good. Nothing fit right. Trent walked into your bedroom with Teddy swinging her around as they both laughed away. As envious as you were becoming about her attachment to him, you did really love to hear the sound of their combined giggles.
“Does this look okay? I just feel like my clothes don’t look right anymore or am I supposed to dress more like a mum?” you asked Trent as you gave him a twirl in a red rhinestone mini dress. It was almost see through. It had a draped neckline that usually you would love how your boobs looked in something like that but now after breastfeeding it just felt…wrong to do for some reason. It was unreasonable short when when you put on your heels. Everything was just off.
“Baby. This is fucking sexy trust me…” Trent slapped his hand over his mouth after he heard himself curse in front of Teddy. You laughed at his reaction. “I actually might need to leave the room before I get too excited. Your boobs look amazing, your legs look amazing. And let’s be real here… That face is just stunning. You could wear a paper bag and still be gorgeous.” You softly smiled appreciating his compliment and attempt to boost your confidence. Trent sat on the bed with Teddy playing while you finished getting ready. You could tell he had picked up on her favoritism lately but didn’t want to bring it up in case it mad you feel worse but he was trying though.
“Ted, doesn’t mummy look beautiful? You have the most pretty mummy.” he cooed while playing with her growing curls. You faked a smile knowing it was said with love, it just was confusing you that for some reason you were having to convince your own baby to like you. Dianne came over and Teddy cried as you left. It hurt you every time she was upset but it definitely was on your mind now wondering if she was upset you were leaving or because he was.
You came home later than expected and probably a little drunker than you anticipated too. You were passionately and messily making out practically before you could even make it into the house. You were all over each other. Trent was determined and when he had his mind set on something particularly when it came to matter like fucking you he was going to get his way. He pushed you up against the kitchen island raising the hem of your dress, creeping his big hands closer to where you wanted them. You moaned lost in the moment. He was trying to fuck in the your kitchen. He lifted you up from under your thighs and placed you on the cold marble surface.
“Oh my fucking god. You’re so sexy, baby” he groaned between messy kisses then beginning to work some down your neck. It occurred to you very quickly though the second you heard him that he was speaking fairly loud.
“T! T! Wait!” you yelped stifling a moan you wanted to let out, feeling his plump lips on your skin. “Your mum! Your mum. Hold on!” You pushed your palm against his chest trying to distance him from you. When he heard you mention his mum, things halted fast. He groaned, annoyed that you had a point. Embarrassingly, Dianne definitely must've heard you. She came down from upstairs with a cheeky smug smile on her face asking if you were having fun. She clearly heard. You knew she knew you two had sex. Hell, you had a baby together but you were still embarrassed. You said thank you and she headed out. Trent moved rapidly to your bedroom. You stopped in Teddy’s nursery first to check if she was still asleep, which she was soundly. You kissed her forehead and walked back to your room. You weren't exactly surprised when you came in and found Trentnt sat on your bed in only his boxers, cock tenting hard in them, leaning back on his arms, legs spread. You'd be lying if you said you weren't immediately turned on. You stood in front of him and slowly peeled the straps of your dress off your shoulders. You let the fabric drop to the floor leaving you in just a matching lacy set.
“C’mere right now.” Trent commanded you. You could see the fire and lust burning behind his stare. You pushed his chest with your palm laying him back on the bed. You straddled over him, casually grinding your wet covered core over his cock. You grabbed his one hand and dragged it over your bare stomach, around to your back and up to the clasp of your lace bralette. He unhooked it with ease, you tits bouncing out free from the material.
“Is this what you wanted downstairs?” You cooed seductively, getting yourself all excited for what was about to happen. In true form, Trent of course had to be just a tad annoying.
“Hey, hey, my daughters in the other room…” he teased acting as if this was all your idea, that he didnt start this whole thing, that he didnt want to fuck you right now. You huffed annoyed and stopped moving on top of him. He laughed a little and held your hips making sure you didn't get off him.
“Please daddy.” you whined slyly knowing he wouldn't be able to resist. You watched the teasing smirk he had drop almost instantaneously. A small smile grew on your face watching his reaction. You began rolling your hips again aching for the contact. You moaned when your clit rubbed against his bulge. Trent kept one hand on your hip guiding your movements but brought his other to cup your cheek then swiftly dragged his thumb across your lips. He slipped it into your mouth with ease. You sucked on it like you would his cock. He groaned when your eyes began to flutter closed with a sigh. You desperately sped up your movements grinding on top of him simultaneously swirling your tongue around his finger. He pulled it out and slipped his now wet fingers down through your folds. Suave as ever he dipped two of his fingers inside of you. You moaned blinking down at him begging without a word. He curled his fingers just the way you liked.
“Do you want more, baby? Tell me what you want me to do for you.” He cooed, enjoying his view of you falling apart on top of him just from his fingers. Your pussy clenched with a whine at the way he spoke to you. A shiver ran down your spine.
“Mmhhm, T. please, baby.” You hummed as you nodded. “I want you to fuck me, please. I want you to make me take your cock.” Your dirty words were enough to stop all the teasing. You both were completely naked in an instant. He smiled looking up at you in awe. Somehow if it was even possible he was harder than he was before. You helped him line his hard cock already leaking precum with your entrance. He groaned as you sank down on him taking his whole length. You threw your head back at the feeling of him finally inside of you.
“You look so sexy, right now, baby. Fuckkk. Look so sexy riding me, sexy taking my cock. You looked so fucking good tonight I needed this.” He ranted watching as you began to bounce on his cock.
“Ah fuck, T you feel so good.” you mewed as your body rocked back and forth on top of him. Your tits bouncing perfectly for him. He cheekily sucked and bit your nipples.
“Take my cock so well. Makes me wanna cum right now in this pretty pussy. Get you pregnant all over again.” His words set you off. You crumbled on top of him in a fit of cries. You fell onto his chest clinging to him as he hit a spot so deep inside you had no choice other than to fall into an earth shattering orgasm. Your pussy spasmed gushing messily onto his cock and abs.
“Holy shit. Oh my god, T.” you whined blissfully overstimulated as he thrusted deeper up into you rolling his hips leaving kisses all along your neck. He reached his hand down between your two sweaty bodies and began to rub your clit knowing he was getting close to his own release.
“That’s it. Be a good girl f’me. Just gimme one more. I’ll fill you up, baby. You want that?” you couldn't think straight anymore. You just moaned as he rubbed your clit in circular motions harder and faster. Your second orgasm washed over you as he simultaneously came inside of you, his hips stuttering and growing sloppier before he slowly came to a stop pumping you full of his cum just as he had promised he would. You got off of him onto wobbly legs collapsing on the bed next to him with your skin shiny, your heart racing, and his cum dripping down your thighs. Trent laughed a little looking at you with loving eyes.
“That was so good, T” you giggled leaning over on him. “I hope we didn't wake Ted.” you got nervous momentarily grabbing for the baby monitor to check. You were relieved to see her still fast asleep. It seemed obvious but you loved having sex with Trent it always put you in a great mood. You loved when he was in control of you but still sweet. It was just the best.
“It's always good.” he confirmed your review before he kissed your forehead and pulled you into his strong slightly sweaty body some more. “It’ll keep being good for the rest of your life. You’re locked into this now. Mrs. Alexander-Arnold.” he teased pinching at your cheek. You cleaned up and got ready for bed. Trent was out like a light fairly quickly. He was exhausted from training, your night out, then what followed when you got home. You were tired as well but your mind was running a mile a minute. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had a Pinterest board for years building what your ideal wedding would look like. You started to piece together though more real ideas that fit your current taste and factoring what would be reflective of your relationship with Trent. You scrolled on your phone looking at the all the images you’d saved and that’s when it hit you. Trent’s words ringing in your head again and again. ‘Mrs. Alexander-Arnold’ Trent’s surname was so important to him. The whole TAA thing was almost like a brand and you understood that. You had dreamed probably before you even met him of becoming Y/N Alexander-Arnold. It just was so real now as you looked down at your ring finger and over at the man who gave it to you. You typed out your new name to really see it. In a strange way it made you sad. Like it wasn't really your name. You wanted to take his surname and had planned on it but as it got later and later into the night you just felt like there had been so much change happening in your life, so much was new, so much was giving you anxiety. You had moved countries, you got a house, you had a baby, your body looked so different, you were engaged, and now you weren't even sure your baby liked you. That's a stretch you knew she did but her obsession and preference for Trent was starting to really upset you. All of this was so overwhelming. You weren't you. You weren't exactly the most secure or confident person before all of these things had happened but now you felt less like yourself than ever. You could feel a lump growing in your throat, tears building. Not only were you experiencing severe anxiety you felt so guilty about it all. All of these things were exciting and happy. And you were happy about each and every one of them. You had never loved your life more… then why was this so difficult? You couldn't help it or hold back the tears anymore. You started to cry attempting to be quiet. You rolled over to face away from Trent. He was asleep but not deep enough to miss the sound of your short breaths and sniffles. Your body shaking lightly. He hugged you from behind pulling you into him.
“Baby, what’s wrong. Are you okay?” he whispered resting his chin onto your shoulder. The stubble from his facial hair tickling your bare skin.
“I don’t know. I'm sorry I woke you. I'll go downstairs. I’m sorry.” you apologized feeling bad you woke him up.
“No you won't. You’re gonna stay right here with me. C’mere.” he hugged you tighter, kissing your cheek. “Do you want to talk about what's going on or do you just want me to hold you until you feel up for it?” He asked patiently and lovingly. It made you feel worse he was being so sweet.
“No, it's stupid anyways. I’m sorry.” you apologized again nuzzling your face against his. Your tears were still running down your cheeks now getting on him.
“It's not stupid if it’s making you upset. I don't like when you're upset, baby. I got you, alright? Whatever’s going on we can work on it together. I’ll take care of you. Promise” he wiped your tear stained cheeks with his thumb.
“Maybe tomorrow or something. Thank you for being here, T. I love you so much” You felt much calmer in his arms but it didn't exactly fix any of your worries.
“I love you more than I can even put into words. I’m always here for you… forever.” he kissed your cheek again. He nestled his head into the nape of your neck and closed his eyes holding you securely. “Not going anywhere so if you want to talk or you need me, you got me.” he cooed. You let him doze off. He was tired, you were tired, you both needed sleep and you needed time to figure out how you would even articulate what you were feeling to him. Maybe tomorrow.
Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍
Next part - Chapter 11 xx
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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 19: Two-Person Love Triangle
Mysterious You | @verobatto Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,003 Main Tags/Warnings: Teacher!Dean, teacher!Castiel, modern setting, coming out Summary: Based in the movie 'Love Simon', professor Dean Winchester wants to find out who the mysterious and charming man Angel is. Will he be able to know him in person?
Books, Pies, and Roommates | @seidenapfel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 27,731 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Two Person Love Triangle, Idiots in Love, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Professor Dean Winchester, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Bakery Shop Owner Gabriel (Supernatural), Friends to Lovers, blink and you miss a minor mention of Rowena MacLoad/Sam Winchester, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining Summary: Everything seemed easy when Castiel landed a job in Lawrence as a literature professor at KU. He even found a place to stay with his cousin in Topeka. But the daily commute quickly gets on his nerves and he begins looking for a room in town. When he finally lucks out on a house, it comes with a catch. His mysterious landlord/housemate works and lives in Topeka during the week, and will only be at home for the weekend while Castiel is back at his cousin’s to honor a promise he made. When Dean walks into his favorite pie shop, the new sales assistant takes his breath away. Steve is gorgeous, and part of the owner’s family. Dean doesn’t even mind that he picks up Gabriel’s stupid moniker for him. After all, Deano has one syllable more, and Dean will do anything to hear Steve’s voice just a little bit longer. Though, as breathtaking Steve might be, he isn't Angel. If only Dean's book-loving best friend weren't a mystery in himself — a guy who Dean has only met online, but who has slowly taken his heart away. And it seems that Dean isn't alone in his feelings. When the lines blur and fantasies merge three guys into one, disappointment and heartbreak seem to be inevitable.
Dear Western Red Cedar #2409 | @mittensmorgul Rating: Mature Word Count: 63,433 Main Tags/Warnings: Two Person Love Triangle, Park Ranger Dean Winchester, Librarian Castiel (Supernatural), Writer Dean Winchester, idiots to lovers Summary: For a decade, Dean had been living his dream life in Montana as a national park ranger. When Sam and Eileen followed him there a few years later, he had no idea how to tell them about his side gig as the author of a wildly popular series of novels loosely based on his own experiences. Well, minus the monster hunting. He never expected them to become bestsellers—or potentially a tv series, if his agent could only convince him to out his real identity. While Dean's also writing his latest bestseller on a deadline, a misunderstanding and his own social ineptitude leave him completely cut off, aside from his new pen pal who Dean only knows as Bluebird. Cas had spent the last two years desperate to hold Dean’s attention. Right when he felt they might be getting somewhere, Dean was called away on an emergency. Of course he had to go and lament about his troubles to a random tree, thanks to a distracting plaque inviting the public to participate in a new town project. To his surprise, he seems to hit it off— completely anonymously of course— with Western Red Cedar #2409. Through a ridiculous series of coincidences, it could be the best thing that ever happened to either of them.
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eliashirsch · 2 days
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God Tier Top Gun Fanfictions. A Masterlist. (3/3)
Part three of my fanfic recommendation! This one's for the best fics!
Winner Categories:
1. Best of the Best Authors (1/3)
2. Best of the Best Series (2/3)
3. Best of the Best Fics (3/3)
REMINDER! READ THE AUTHORS' TAGS AND WARNINGS!!!
Best of the Best Fics
Fics that shine bright as the stars. Make sure to check the author’s other works too!
ICEMAV
Kings of the Air by FabulaRasa @fabula-unica
Fighting and fucking: two things he did extraordinarily well. How could he have known what the effect would be when you combined the two?
This and COMPACFLT’s work directly inspired one of my works:) The writing quality is absolutely amazing. My favorite fics are those that have Ice returning to Top Gun and joining Mav as an instructor and this one just takes the whole motherfucking crown.
Indian Ocean. Present Day. by Jay Tryfanstone (tryfanstone)
Isolated on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Indian Ocean, cut off from any source of information about the global political and environmental disaster which has engulfed the planet, Maverick and Goose struggle to make sense of an increasingly claustrophobic command structure and failing resources on board. When a refugee helicopter is spotted approaching the carrier, its pilot could be the catalyst for an explosive re-evaluation....
This fic man. This fic. It made me fall in love with post-apocalyptic fics. The writing style, the plot, Ice and Mav and Goose. Goose, man… Oh my god. If you read this fic you know why I’m still thinking about these boys’ fates. 
Rhinestone Cowboy by omnidirectional
That’s Doctor Iceman to you! Maverick bangs himself up and gets rescued by someone he didn’t expect. A Missing Scene featuring contrived situations, questionable life choices, gratuitous product placement, and shirtlessness. You know, everything you love about canon.
And it is absolutely everything I love about canon! I always love missing scenes or canon divergent. Not to say that I don’t enjoy AUs, but I love vibes like this the most where the story works alongside canon and elevates it to a whole other level. Mav and Ice and Slider feels correct.
Sleepless Nights by demiclar @demiclar / @slidersimp
Five times Maverick wakes himself up with nightmares and one time he's woken by someone else.
Fics about Mav’s grief over Goose’s death will always wreck me. This one in particular shows itself as a physical manifestation. I love love love all the guys stepping up and taking care of Mav, never once judging his pain. I’m a sucker for portrayals of the ugly side of grief.
Mal de Mer by saurora_borealis
"I thought you said you didn't get seasick, you little liar," Slider snaps. Maverick doesn't answer, head bowed, but Ice can see him shaking from here. Of all the times for Maverick to be sick, did it have to be on a night that Ice is ill too? Or: the carrier experiences some ocean turbulence. Even the most seasoned aviators fall prey to it.
This one has sort of the same vibe as the fic above. I never get tired of seeing the flyboys take care of each other<3
be my soulmate (and i'll be yours) by ChexMix
Of course Maverick dreams about finding his soulmate. Who doesn't? But he'd never imagined the possibility that it could be the Iceman. So when he catches sight of Ice's soulmark, it suddenly becomes all he can think about.
Classic Icemav soulmate AU. This is like exactly my type of angst and happy ending. Sometimes the things you’re familiar with are still the best:)
To Build a Home by LadyLanera @k9effect
Eighteen years before Top Gun Maverick, there was a home being built from ashes and ruin. When the dust finally settled and dusk fell, the house of cards collapsed, shattering three lives forever. Is it possible to rebuild, reclaiming the past in the future...when they're all hurtling towards their worst nightmare?
Goddddd. I love Mav’s character flaw in this. I love Ice’s maturity born from grief and sickness. I love Bradley’s anger and abandonment issues. I love that these three have hurt each other more than anyone ever could, but their love is still starkly present. My thoughts when I was reading this was that LadyLanera wrote their flaws so beautifully, making them human, and by doing so I understood their motivations and their actions. Amazing characterization. 
all is fair (in love and war) by dulcetines (evecstasy)
oh, ice, maverick bisa merasakan hati kecilnya meringis, ice, sori banget— hollywood menyelak lagi, kali ini dengan suara impersonasi terbaiknya: “teruntuk kuncen TOPGUN, yang mana di sana kuyakin matahari belum juga terbit sebersamaan dengan ditulisnya surat ini. aku ingin saat ini juga kau bersyukur tidak mesti mendengarkan slider ngorok di sampingmu. tuhan jesus. pria ini sudah kuanggap saudara sendiri, tapi terkadang ada saja hal-hal yang dilakukannya yang membuatku ingin menggulingkannya ke laut. kau apa kabar di sana? sudah berapa pilot yang kauhabisi egonya? apapun itu. jangan mati kebosanan dulu. aku bisa bilang begini karena surat-suratmu selalu mengancam demikian. ingat kau masih hutang makan malam denganku. dan sepuluh dolar. sampaikan salamku ke bayi itik. bilang aku kangen padanya. dan,” hollywood memalsukan dehem, sambil ia melanjutkan, “padamu juga. setiap detikku. ice.” begitulah.
Hehehehehe. Now this is more for me LMAO because as you can see, it’s written in Indonesian. Finding this fic in my mother language is like finding GOLD. Again, I love love love Icemav in their Top Gun era. This is for all of you Indonesian Top Gun enthusiast *blows a kiss* 
a higher fidelity by basedchamp
“C’mon.” Tori nudges him with an elbow. “C’mon. He’s cute. You can admit that one thing but you can’t admit this?” Gritting his teeth, Ice thinks very carefully about his next words. “He’s…” he trails off. “Some would say that…Mitchell is not. Unpleasant. To look at.” (Alternatively: the one where Ice and Mav learn to park bad, eat good, and love even better.)
Ice’s family, man… It’s refreshing to see them so supportive and loving. I’m guilty of making Ice’s backstory so tragic>:) But this one is heartwarming! I love the style and flow of the writing. It’s something that I want to achieve in my own writing as well, so kudos to basedchamp!
Tunnel Vision by brainjuicey (anzietyfreak) @brainjuicey
Instead of Ice biting the air in the locker room, he antagonises Mav by biting his neck, unknowingly setting off dormant Omega genes and sending him into heat. Everyone involved is forced to remain secure on base until they’ve investigated. AKA. Five Alphas, a Beta, and an Omega in heat, walk into an Air Base prison. Ramifications ensue. Alternative title, "Locked in Sex Jail With The Boys"
This scratched that specific part in my brain, man. ABO with the original cast of Top Gun? Sign me up, baby. Steamy and perfect. 
The Five People You Can't Escape in Heaven by V_Evergreen
Maverick dies, but it doesn't end there. Alternately: [“Hey, kiddo, are you with me?” Maverick opened his eyes and found that he could see. He blinked in the sudden light as his surroundings came into focus. Quite literally came into focus, as though everything around him was resolving into itself as he looked, deciding to form a lawn, flowerbeds, the tree trunk that he had been leant against. The sun was blinding overhead, high noon. In the distance, hazy and indistinct, he could make out a house. It looked vague, like a half formed memory but it was familiar. Just like the man crouched in front of him. “Dad?” He croaked.]
I was reading the original book (The Five People You Meet in Heaven) and came across this fic. Which in turn made me want to write my own rendition from the same idea.  That last chapter, man. It’s unreal how creative it is. A punch to the gut for sure.
(Here’s my fic if you want to read about it :) >> Estrellita)
He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother by V_Evergreen
Five meetings between Thomas Kazansky and Ethan Hunt. Alternately: [Ethan heard the door click shut behind him and turned to ask after the papers when he was abruptly spun by a hand on his shoulder and pushed against the door. His first and immediate thought was that he was certainly being attacked. Kazansky had him pressed against the door, chest to chest, a hand around his wrist and then- oh. Oh no. He wasn’t being attacked at all, it was infinitely worse. He was being very thoroughly kissed. He pushed back against Kazansky’s chest and tried to think of something eloquent to say. “Um?”]
Another banger by V_Evergreen. Ice not knowing Mav has a twin and mistakenly kissing him is so funny. And the end is heartwarming as well. Love love love it.
Allies by Shearmouth
After getting shot down over a war-torn Iraq, Maverick makes some unlikely friends. They have something– a big something– in common. But all Mav really wants is Ice. Too bad he's half a world away, and even Mav can't run that on a shattered leg. Not with the infected chest wounds thrown in, at least.
Oh my goddddd. I keep being at a loss for words when describing these fics. It won’t do anyone good if all I wrote was goddd, oh mannn, it’s so goodddd. But it’s the truth. This one hits home so much. The risk and homophobia present when you’re in a place that punishes queer people for existing and being in love, how a single mistake will cost you your future. And it’s so heartwarming to see that even then, you’re not alone. Mav being helped to reunite with Ice and breaking down that since their relationship was private, Ice had to grief Mav alone. Man, oh man. 
There is a pain—so utter by CurSirrr
Pete Mitchell was fine. Completely fine. He didn’t feel dizzy with denial, or an utter trainwreck of hopelessness. He hadn’t shed a single tear or cried himself to sleep for the past week. His guts were twisting and turning, squeezing and cramping. His eyes were swollen and red, and his scalp hurt from his vicious hair tugs as he tried to understand the past week. OR Three times Bradley misses the chance to say goodbye before it is too late.
Just read the summary and prepare for a world of pain:) Ice’s canon death still haunts me. Good thing he’s sleeping away in his big house that he co-owns with Mav, regularly saves his husband’s ass, have barbeque Sunday with Bradley and Jake and the dagger squad, happy and healthy:))
keeping his cards close to his chest by Serie11 @oathkeeperoxas
It's not that Lucy wishes that her boss would be more open with her. It's that she quite literally knows nothing about the man, despite Admiral Kazansky being her CO for half a decade. Or: 5 times Ice successfully hid something from his staff, and 1 time Ice revealed his biggest secret
Love seeing Icemav seen through other people’s perspective. It adds so much to the universe. Ice and Mav being their usual old married couple while everyone around them suffers. Excellent.
'til I meet you there by adiduck (book_people) @adiduck
Maverick wakes up in the snow, helmet on, entire body aching intensely and parachute still attached. It takes him about half an hour of trekking through the snow to notice that there’s anything amiss. (Or: Maverick Mitchell is in the habit of talking to his ghosts. Usually, they don’t talk back.)
Mav’s journey through the underworld. This fic is just too creative😭Always a delight to see how loved Mav is. It’s so whimsical and confusing and so great.
the ships have come to carry you home by indigofudge
“Here it is,” Carole says, bringing Mav’s wheelchair to a stop. Mav’s mouth is dry. He aches for another cup of water. “Carole, tell me something, and don’t lie to me.” “Anything, Maverick.” “How bad does he look?” Carole is quiet for a while. Then she comes around and kneels in front of Mav, taking both of his hands in her own. Her eyes swim with tears. “If I didn’t know any better,” she says, voice breaking, “I’d think he was dead.” • Or, Goose is alive when they hit the water. That's enough.
Goose survives AU!!!! Huh? This isn’t canon? What are you talking about? Of course, Goose survives and the Bradshaw family is still whole and Mav still has his family and gets to have Ice too. What are you talking about??
Swallow by wildglitterwolf 
Ice is getting tired of Maverick's inability to be a team player. Maverick is annoyed by Ice's gum chewing. Ice is more than happy to get rid of it, he just needs a place to put it...
TT.TT Just… I didn’t know I like this dynamic so much…
HANGSTER
cruise control by res_judicata
Rooster’s plane goes down on a Tuesday.  Jake remembers that it’s a Tuesday because he had been out grabbing a quick bite for lunch with Javy and the little chalkboard on the wall of the cafe had proclaimed that Tuesday’s special was linguine in white wine with fresh mussels. (Jake deals with grief and love)
Made me cry a goddamn river. I’ve said this before, but Hangster is one of those ships that I had trouble getting into. When I first got into the fandom back in June 2022, I strictly read Icemav, never dipping my toes into Hangster’s relationship because I never felt the spark. But as time goes by I’m starting to warm up and have read more and more. This fic is one of those where it captured my attention instantly. I knew it was going to be angsty, but still holding out hope for a happy ending (just like Jake in this story). The grief that blanketed the whole writing only made the resolution more beautiful.
WHORES IN MY BED. by pornogirl
“Jake-” Bradley’s eyes have a wet glimmer to them, the kind of wet that looks like the beginnings of tears and Jake wants to kiss him so badly. “Jake, is it loaded?” Jake rolls his eyes at the question. “Open your fucking mouth.” (Author’s notes: it's really not as bad as the tags may suggest but like. read the fucking tags!)
I’m a freak and I’m not ashamed of it:) Basically, Jake's going on about how pretty Bradley is crying and scared. If this is your kink, definitely worth the read. I don’t know if it’s because I find it hot, but I don’t get the unsafe feeling as opposed to reading other works that have noncon elements. I don’t know it feels more like it’s both of their kinks or like something they’ve discussed before but Jake didn’t warn Bradley prior. Like CNC, I guess? Anyway it’s really hot and I have not looked at my retainers the same way;)
we're fools to make war by whimsicule @baroness-elsa
In a Walmart at three am, between beef jerky and tortilla chips, with the lights flickering above them like it’s the fucking twilight zone, Bradley wants him more than he’s ever wanted anyone. or: it's a hundred degrees in texas.
This is so Jake and Bradley I’m blown away by how right they feel. Seriously. I didn’t even notice this was 66k words. The vibes, the writing, Jake’s family. Oh hell. Definitely check out the author’s other works too! They’ve got a lot of other Hangster long fics:)
cinnamon and sugar by bottledyarn
Jake was slumped in the doorway, propped up against the wall beside the door. He was a strange, pale, near-gray against the dark backdrop of his apartment, and he looked—well… “You look like shit," Bradley said. – Bradley draws the short straw and has to take care of Jake when he's sick with a stomach flu. Jake doesn't want to be taken care of.
Sigh. Jake and Bradley, man. They’re the ship that you can shove as much angst as you want and it’ll fit right in with their dynamic. They’re just so stubborn!!!! The push and pull between them is magnetic, man. I think I get why people love them.
habits by rararatatouille
Jake and Bradley come together in a series of jagged stops and starts. They fall apart in the exact same way. In which habits are hard to break, even for the people we love most.
Mannnnn. Goddamnit. I think this fic converted me to like Hangster. I think this has become canon in my brain too. I can’t even. Just read it. Words aren’t enough to describe this fic. 
Days Like This by chase_acow @cowsalot
Jake's in Hawaii to lose himself after getting the Navy's first air-to-air kill in decades. Instead he finds a ramshackle diner, a cast of odd characters, and possibly the love of his life. Bradley goes to the Hard Deck to order waffles. He orders waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck to get some waffles. He goes to the Hard Deck, and who is this hot asshole acting like they know each other?
So good. A 50 First Dates AU. Jake just loves Bradley so much, man. And Bradley finally showing up in the end. Love really will make you walk miles across Earth for your special person<3
OTHERS
Other pairings, romantic and not.
Mr. Blue Sky by omnidirectional
Tragedy first brings Iceman into Bradley’s life, but he quickly becomes the steadiest presence of the boy’s childhood… until a betrayal tears their small family apart. After years of silence, can Bradley find the words to make up for lost time? Five times Ice sings to Bradley, and the one time Bradley sings to Ice.
Another one from omnidirectional. Ice and Bradley’s father and son relationship… Here’s one of the tags: Who Wants To Cry Today? If you’re up for emotional damage, click the link🫵
On Mighty Wings by PurpleArrowzandLeather @purplearrowzandleather-blog
Maverick raised geese over the years while Bradley was gone. Bradley does not know this until the flock comes home for the summer.
Short and sweet. Legend author as well. Love the geese preening Mav and Bradley sobbing while surrounded by honks. This is just too damn cute!!
Neglected by proprioception @mnstrfkr
"Do I look God-fearing to you, ma'am?" Maverick asked with a grin. "You most certainly do not," Carole said. "That's why I didn't marry you." "That and the mustache," Goose added.
Can’t forget about this GooseMavCarole fic of course! Hot and heartwarming. Absolutely amazing smut. This one sparked my brain to make a fanart of my favorite polycule. Their dynamic is just so fun!
Yearling by Fopperies , pohjanneito @pilvimarja
Alone in a cabin in the snowy mountains, Maverick is supposed to help Bradley on the path to presenting as an alpha soon. Bradley's body has other ideas.
Just gonna put this here… A different take on ABO’s biology, which I absolutely love. It’s so hot… Bradley, I feel you, honey…
Seeing a Trailer by daenabenjen42
In the aftermath of the Layton rescue, Merlin has questions.
Sighs for the millionth time. It’s so good. Again, I love the portrayal of Mav’s PTSD and grief here. And it’s not just him, but daenabenjen42 wrote about the other boys’ trauma too. I love it so much I must’ve reread this one about fifty million times. 
in between what's already done by crawsley
“We aren’t doing this,” Maverick says, firmly, and he’s tensing like he’s about to move, about to shove Rooster off of him, push him away like he pushed him away before, when all Rooster had wanted was some guidance, some help, some love and kindness and— Rooster bears him to the ground, right there on the rug in the entryway.
This is legitimately one of the first, if not the first fic I’ve read from RoosMav. I still remember clearly going home from watching TG:M in the cinema and KNOWING that there were definitely going to be people who ship Mav and Roo. I rushed to AO3 straight away:D Imagine my delight when finding this one!
shake my nerves and rattle my brain by BogBeast
This wasn’t supposed to be intimate. This was about punishment, humiliation, stubbornness and spite. Not this gentle crap that made him sigh, the hand in his hair making his stomach swoop with every tug, the heavy scent making his head feel foggy, the praises making his heart skip a beat. That shit is just weird. The horrifying realization that he’s hard in his flight suit has nothing to do with it.  - Mav's gotten them into a lot of weird situations, but giving blowjobs to their rivals because of a stupid bet has to be the weirdest one.
Icemav AND Sloose? SIGN ME UP, BABY!
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That’s all of it! This is my list for now. Thank you all for reading through to the end! Let me know if you enjoyed any of these fics so we can gush about them together:) I hope you enjoyed my yapping:}
My works have always and will continue to take inspiration from others. So thank you for creating stories as beautiful and profound as these, dear beloved authors<3
If you want to see my bookmark collection of all of these fics, click here >> TOPGUN (Best of the Best) While you’re there, how about you read some of my fics too?>:) EliasHirsch
(PS!!! There will be a 4th part because there are definitely more good fics that people need to know about:))
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dyns33 · 2 days
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Only wastelands part 2
Here's part 2 of my Cooper Howard x Reader ! I think it will be a story in 4 parts at the end, but I'm not sure yet.
Tags : @one-of-thewalkingdead @coolrobloxkid28 @thebumbqueen @rachmari @ilyvia @justme12200 @honeybunhottie @savanahc @gobbodoggo @bisasterbisexual @killingboredom @bonafideyapper @i-simp-for-mha-men @pixelatedprofilepic @ultimatreality @chattersstuff @harmfulb1tch @hellolettuce444 @miketastic25
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If Y/N had to pay Cooper one compliment, it was that he had been a very good teacher.
Months passed, years, and she survived the apocalypse perfectly on her own.
To avoid trouble, she hid her pitboy and her gender under a large coat and a Ranger mask. Some people made fun of her, thinking she was doing this to protect herself from radiation. Everyone knew that West Tek's hardware, or any of Vault's partners, was crap.
Y/N knew it, and that was why she always had Radaway on her. Not at all in case she saw Cooper again and he needed some.
Three years without any news, doing everything to avoid attracting attention, and she hardly thought about him at all.
If she sometimes looked at the photo of him before his turning, with little Janey, it was only to remember that she should trust no one in this rotten world. Never again, she repeated to herself.
It was with this spirit that she almost killed Lucy when the young woman fell on her. Literally.
Y/N was standing in a crater, calm, silent, holding her sniper tightly, ready to shoot her future dinner, when the little vaultie had jumped to escape a yao guai.
Her instinct not being often wrong, she knew that it was more urgent to kill the bear than the imbecile who had thought that surprising a shooter was less dangerous than confronting a beast.
Even though she had a gun, was covered in blood, and one of her fingers was a different color, little Vault dweler looked harmless with her big, naive doe eyes.
It was obvious that she had been outside for a short time. A true miracle that she is still alive.
"Thank you, thank you very much !" she repeated with a huge smile, as if Y/N wasn't pointing her sniper at her. "You don't know the week I just had ! My father was kidnapped, I wanted to save him, but I discovered that he was a murderer who had bombed a city, and all the people I met tried to kill me, and…"
"Hey. I don't remember asking you to tell me about your life, vaultie."
"Oh, sorry ! It's just that I got lost. I was with someone heading to a place called New Vegas, but a big monster pulled him into a hole, then this thing attacked me. You seem nice, and I could use some help…"
"No."
“Wait. But wait !” the girl begged, following her as she went to carve the yao guai. Not the best meat, but she had just wasted five bullets for that, and the noise had either scared away the easy preys or attracted the attention of the dangerous ones.
Y/N vacillated between ignoring Lucy and threatening her, asking her to leave, but after exchanging names, the vaultie seemed to have decided that they were now best friends and should stay together.
No doubt taking her savior's silence as an invitation, she continued to talk about what had happened to her, between her meeting with a man named Maximus, and the inhumane treatment she had suffered at the hands of a mercenary.
Completely incoherent, she ended her story by explaining that she had abandoned her potential boyfriend to go on an adventure next to the guy who tortured her, with the aim of finding her dad and discovering who had destroyed the entire planet.
It was quite funny, because Lucy reminded her a bit of herself before. Y/N wondered if Cooper had seen her like that when they met, a lost and stupid thing.
At the same time, the girl's reasons for living were the same as the Ghoul. Find a family member and take revenge on Vault. Amusing. Maybe they would be very happy together.
If we forgot the fact that Lucy thought that no one should be killed, that everyone was nice, and mutual help was a fundamental notion, to start again. Ugh.
"So, some free advice, if you want to avoid having your tongue cut out, remember that it is not a good idea for a little vaultie who grew up in a palace to give big moral lessons to people who have been doing what they can to avoid dying for years, sometimes centuries."
"Why do you call me that ? You come from a vault too, right ? My pitboy picked up yours."
"Hang on. I am a victim of the cruelty of politicians and businessmen, betrayed by my own country and only alive by luck, or bad luck. You are a little vaultie. Now get away before I strangle you."
Lucy continued to follow her. And Y/N could have killed her, she really could have. This wasn't her first rodeo. She had killed a lot of people for less than that. But she didn't really want to.
Maybe she had been alone for too long. Maybe she felt sorry for this girl, like Cooper had felt sorry for her.
A deal was found. If Lucy could keep her mouth shut, then Y/N would help her find her friends so she could resume her main quest. Their paths would then part ways, and everyone would be happy.
Especially Y/N.
Because if she often talked about her dear Max, the little vaultie didn't seem so eager to find her survival partner. This was understandable, since he had tried to kill her several times, shooting her, cutting off her finger, using her as bait, and selling her.
Compared to this guy, Y/N was a saint, an angel from heaven, the perfect friend. When she offered the girl a bottle of non-irradiated water, she seemed about to ask her to marry her.
“You must be the only person in all the wastelands with good water !”
"It doesn't come cheap. But… I made a promise."
“My lovely traveling companion forced me to drink disgusting water and eat a man.”
"Charming."
Even though she seemed sweet and pure, Y/N continued to be wary of Lucy, sleeping with only one eye open and waiting for the moment when she would try to stab her in the back. First rule, don't trust anyone.
It had happened before. Never again.
Even after three years, the wound was still raw.
It was only when she saw the fear and regret in Lucy's eyes that Y/N restrained her action, yet ready to plant her blade the moment she had shown her the photo, taken out of her bag, asking her if it was her family.
Cooper hadn't been her family. He had been an asshole, who had manipulated her, who had made her believe that he loved her, and that she could love him, before abandoning her like a dog on the side of the road.
"Be careful with this Maximus. Men never change. He will take what he wants from you, and you will be hurt."
“He’s not like that.”
"I didn't think Coop was like that !" she shouted, really getting angry for the first time at Lucy, who jumped. "Yes, I loved him ! I trusted him ! It was stupid of me and I will never make that mistake again ! I hope he died in a hole, alone and in pain !"
"… Can I throw the photo away then ?"
“Give that back !” Y/N said quickly, snatching the only souvenir he had left from her hands and putting it safely in her pocket.
Lucy's sad smile indicated that she wouldn't have destroyed the photo. How sorry she was, for having gone through her things, and for having caused her pain by forcing her to talk about this man who had been so important. Also that she was happy, to see that despite her speeches, Y/N still cared for someone, even if she didn't want to.
She had never told anyone about it. It had been a long time since she had said his name, except when she woke up from a nightmare, in the middle of nowhere, calling for him like a child.
Lucy continued to smile, because for her, there must be another explanation for her precious Coop's behavior. She continued to call him Coop, even after Y/N threatened to make her eat her rotten finger.
"I know you don't like talking about him…"
“If you know that, shut up.” Y/N muttered as she continued walking towards New Vegas, trying to ignore the stream of words from the stupid vaultie, bingeing on romance novels and patriotic films.
"From the few things you agreed to share, Coop cared about you. He protected you, he taught you to defend yourself, he gave you a picture of his daughter. For me, this are proofs of love. Actions speak louder than words."
“He promised to come get me and I’m still waiting.”
"Wrong ! You left, you know how to hide perfectly, and you do everything to avoid him ! So, maybe he's been chasing you all this time and you don't know."
"What I do know is that the main clause of our deal was that you would stop talking so much, especially if it was to give such ridiculous and inappropriate advices."
They finally arrived at their destination after several weeks of walking. No sign of Lucy's friend on the way though. Perhaps he had died, or had not continued on his own.
It was clear that he wanted to use the daughter of vault 33 overseer to achieve his ends, and now that he had lost her, there was no point.
The city amazed the girl. It was the first real city she discovered, instead of those piles of ruins full of dust and vermin that were found in the four corners of the wastelands.
Her enthusiasm almost made Y/N laugh. A bit like how she had often made Cooper laugh without meaning to.
Damn, she needed to stop thinking about that bastard so often. Her mother was always saying that we manifest things through emotions and thoughts.
Her poor mother, long dead, but who had always been right.
As soon as her eyes landed on him, Y/N was crouched behind a wooden crate, watching Cooper Howard, fucking Cooper Howard, sitting near the casino, seemingly waiting for someone.
Seeing her, Lucy began to ask her what she was doing, her gaze following hers, and then the reaction was strange. Everything about this girl was strange anyway.
She started to smile.
Worse, she waved an arm at the Ghoul in greeting, opening her mouth to get his attention as she realized it wasn't enough, his cowboy hat falling over his face.
Y/N quickly grabbed her arm to pull her towards her, asking her what she was playing.
"It's the mean bounty hunter who accompanies me !" she replied happily, as if everything was normal.
For a moment, Y/N wondered if Lucy was making fun of her. If from the start, this was just a horrible joke against her, the continuation of a torture started in this seedy bar.
Then she told herself that if someone made fun of her, it was just fate.
Because she remembered that she had only described Cooper, continuing not to have any particular interest in his condition as a ghoul, and with her goodness as a jug, Lucy had not wanted to reduce him to his appearance either.
The difference was that he didn't give his name to his new pet.
“I knew you were an idiot, but not that much.”
"What ? Why ?" Lucy wondered, slightly offended and trying to free herself.
"You can't trust him. You already know that, why do you want to go back with him ? Look… I can help you find your father, okay ? Find Max. Whatever you want, but let's avoid this bastard and let's leave quickly."
"Golden rule. We said we would wait near the casino, he's there, I'm not leaving him."
With this serious look, the vault dweler would almost have looked frightening. Almost. It was mainly because it was obvious that it was impossible to reason with her that Y/N let her go, not waiting for her tirade about great friendship and the need to stay together to run as far as possible.
If Cooper noticed them, she didn't give him time to really see her, nor to catch up with her or shoot her.
Y/N didn’t turn around to check. Not because she was afraid of him chasing her. But because she was afraid that not only would he not pursue her, but she would also see him with Lucy.
Because even though he had tortured her, insulted her, threatened her… He was in front of the fucking casino waiting for this girl. And it really hurt.
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daistea · 3 days
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regarding the possessive obsessive bf mithrun i imagine its to be expected that someone who hasnt had any desires for ?? years would get kinda intense abt the things theyre cultivating the ability to feel desire for !
RIGHT?? take my hand, walk into the light with me..
//Spoilers
Honestly, I headcanon that he was like that before the dungeon too. To an extent. There’s this post I like that implies that Mithrun didn’t actually truly love the elf girl from before, he just wanted to possess her because, you know, insecurity and complexes and brother issues.
He wanted to be loved, to possess, to feel worthy. I think that definitely could lead into possessiveness.
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the most gorgeous boy in the world 🫣 kiss kiss smooch smooch, my little walking red flag
Anyway, post-demon those feelings go away. He still has emotions and a personality obviously. There’s still glimpses of who he was, but he doesn’t care about the old insecurities. They’re not there anymore. The inferiority complex is gone. He’s just Mithrun, demon killing machine, living only for one thing. I mean it’s canon that he’s already obsessive.
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(I know the word ‘obsessed’ being used here is probably just translation liberties, but the idea still remains. If it’s genuinely ‘obsessed’ in Japanese though, I’ll be very pleased.)
I do think it’s possible to have a relationship with him at this point, but it won’t be conventional— that’s true of any relationship with him at any point in his life though. You’ll always be second. He’s not as invested, not as possessive, but I do think that’s just a natural part of his personality as well and it would still pop up on occasion.
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THE MOST EVEN GORGEOUSER BOY IN THE WORLD 🥺 kiss kiss smooch smooch
Post-canon Mithrun has decided to live, to help make the broth in a stew or soup, to find use in himself. Yay!
I like the idea of Mithrun deciding to spend his life with someone simply because he enjoys their company, but my favorite thought is him developing a new desire— it’s not a simple desire for a relationship, though. It’s a desire for you. It’s very specific.
When Mithrun develops a new desire, he can’t ignore it. He needs it. He needs every ounce of it. If this desire is for a specific person, then he wants every ounce of them. This possessiveness doesn’t necessarily come from insecurity or inferiority like it used to. It’s from desperation and excitement. He trusts you. If he gets jealous it’s not because he thinks you’re going to cheat, it’s because he sees it and thinks, “They’re mine. Nobody else is allowed to have them.” It’s offensive that someone would even try to take you from him.
He wants his desire close to him. He’s clingy. He’s absolutely shameless. He doesn’t hide his feelings, but he doesn’t really say them out loud either, that’s just not how he rolls. He shows his feelings through actions. Are those actions genuinely unhinged sometimes? Yes.
You’ve got a friend who’s kinda worried that this elf guy is getting too attached? Mithrun has Cithis brain wash your friend into supporting your relationship so they don’t try to get in the way. Is that morally wrong? Don’t care didn’t ask
You want to do something very dangerous? Too bad, you’re getting tied to a chair so you can’t leave. Kick and scream all you want, he’s not risking losing you.
And he does it all with a straight face and no dramatics, too. They’re very normal things for him to do, obviously.
He’s very normal about you, obviously.
He wants every bit of your attention, every touch, every second, every year you have to offer. Does he say that out loud? No. But he wants it.
And when Mithrun actually wants something, he’s going to meticulously tear apart the stars one by one to get it. He hasn’t really wanted anything in 40-ish years. Doesn’t he deserve it?
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class1akids · 3 days
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Do you think there is any way of fixing what happened in the next chapter? I don't think Horikoshi is a great writer but I don't understand how could he have flumbled so bad when the set up he wrote himself made obvious what should happen. Everybody knows that a big motif was to save the villains and then that's not what happens with the MC and main antagonist? That is kind of like insulting levels of misdirection. I'm foolishly hoping that the next chapters fixes it somehow.
I've been trying to think circles around it, because I do agree with those bloggers who say that it's WILDLY OOC for Deku and it makes them suspect it's a fakeout.
Unfortunately, I only see plausible options with this set-up along the following lines:
Tomura "awakens" the missing Overhaul reconstruction component and rebuilds himself and goes to fix his dying villain buddies. -> Great. It delivers on Tomura's goal to be a hero of the villains and maybe he can turn a new leaf with a healing quirk to try to start fixing the damage he caused. It's sort of an answer to Tomura's arc, but Deku's arc is still destroyed, because he still killed the guy for all he knows and never in any way engaged with his complaints about society. Nothing changed except AFO is dead.
Deku punched TomurAFO with Vestige Magic BS he unlocked offscreen with the exact amount of force to reconstruct Tenko's body out, save the crying boy and give him a second life -> obviously total asspull, but fandom will be happy because who is not a fan of a cute crying child, and "look we told you that Deku is the greatest". Imho, this kind of solution would basically ruin Tomura's development, disregard his progress with the LoV, and would not be good for Deku if he decided that the "crying child" gets to live and told Tomura that he's unforgivable and he needs to die because he never engaged with his villain, only with a ghost of a past that normally doesn't exist anymore and is not a feasible solution to save other people like Tenko this way.
Tomura transferred OFA back to Deku and his vestige as Tenko will live inside Deku so "he'll be a hero" -> I see people getting excited with this, but the vestiges don't "live" there with his "oba-chan". Being a ghost, being trapped inside someone else, never be able to make a decision for themselves is not a life. I don't see it as a good ending for a character who didn't experience much freedom in his entire life. I also think Deku should be rid of the vestiges - it's not healthy to have them yap in his head. If you want this kind of ending, might as well write that Tenko got to join Mon, Mom, Hana etc in heaven and is living there happily in the afterlife.
Deku has brought along Eri's horn and it being in the blast zone of OFA - AFO collision it's fractional rewind turned into a mass rewind effect and he did this in purpose and knew it was gonna work out this way and was totally gonna save everyone with it, including Tomura. And their "farewell scene" was just a clumsily written misdirect. -> OK. Got MHA trending. Editors happy.
Basically Option 1, but AFO being defeated is not the end of the fight, because the Alien Parasite that infected his mom and is the source of all quirks takes form and then the LoV come in to help defeat it. Everyone loses their quirks, no more quirk society. Tomura and Spinner start a gaming youtube channel. Deku becomes a cop.
I mean, I can sit here, come up with these wild, wild BS scenarios that "undo" Tomura's death. But I don't really see a way that salvages both Tomura's and Deku's arc and makes them both deliver on the promise of their arc. Like linkspooky wrote - Deku's entire journey is what would have mattered. Him engaging with villain stories, especially with Tomura's story, trying to empathize, trying to change the root cause. But it feels like in the end, precious little changed compared to the All Might era.
I feel like both Ochako and the Todoroki family confronted Toga and Toya more at both levels - not just at the level of the cute kid whose life went off the rails, but also at the level of the person they grew into: Ochako by offering blood to Toga and the Todorokis by wanting Toya back in his current damaged form and willing to go through hell with him (unlike Toga's folks, who immediately disowned their child). But Deku only embraced crying Tenko. He really didn't offer anything to grown-up Tomura and that's where the problem lies for me.
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marloree · 3 days
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   Your lovely guitarist
Pairing: Guitarist! Student! Beomgyu x Reader
Genre: university au, series
Summary: you're studying at university and living your mundane life, that is, until you meet Beomgyu. What will it lead to? Only time can tell.
Part 1!    The beginning
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You never considered moving as easy, especially to the city you knew almost nothing of.
"New city, new life, new page", they say.
You agreed with the statement, to some degree at least.
Of course you were happy to get into the university of your dreams. Just how much happy you were. One wouldn't lie saying you were over the moon.
But..there are always numerous buts, right?
To begin with, you were quite introverted. Not that you had no friends, but it was difficult for you to get into new groups. "A way to open up, not as bad as it sounds", you thought, reassuring yourself.
Moreover, you never left your hometown before and knew absolute nothing about the city you were moving in.
Obviously you tried to get to know the city better, but were you good at navigating? Absolutely not.
But we always imagine things scarier than they are in reality, right?
Dorms were decent, the professors friendly, the students quite approachable. You even managed to befriend a few people during the first week. Life definitely didn't seem to be as difficult as you thought it would be at first.
Of course adjusting to the new environment wasn't easy, but it was still decent.
And you really enjoyed the classes. No matter how hard the work was, your eyes shined like diamonds every time you thought of how your life turned to be: studying in your dream university, getting the job you've been passionate about since...how long already? You couldn't have been more lucky, seriously.
Not to mention the newly found friends you've been together from morning 'till night. Let alone them being genuinely nice people, which you really appreciated, they shared your hobbies, your passion. You felt like you've got to experience the so called "y/n life", life of your dreams. Seriously, it felt just as surreal as a dream.
But, you weren't just lucky, you've worked your butt off to live like this. And you had no plans on stopping anytime soon.
No, of course you weren't the typical "good girl" or a "nerd", but you had a goal you aimed to.
You just lived your own life the way you thought to be the right one.
Never having too much friends, you enjoyed the company of a few close friends that surrounded you. Now, with new faces around you, you still kept your usual life style.
You were content with how things are in your private life and had no wish to change that, for now. "School, friends, studies, hobbies" now changed to "uni, friends, studies, hobbies".
"A partner" or "a boyfriend" never appeared in that list. It's not like you were too interested in dating, at least currently. Developing small crushes from time to time, you never got into anything serious. Guys in your school weren't the best ones, anyway.
It was like this and, perhaps, might have stayed just this way if not for Beomgyu, literally the perfect guy that took the same course as you.
You couldn't deny his great physique, but his knowledge was no joke, either.
Matching brains with good looks, the guy sent your heart in heaven.
At first, you didn't even try getting closer to him. He seemed to always hang out with his group of friends, just as you did with yours. The coming up semester exams and a dozen of homework you had to do every night didn't add up to your enthusiasm of getting with your love interest, either.
Your life flew by just the same, only a little flutter of your heart everytime you crossed your ways with Beomgyu reminding you of the crush you had on him.
A month passed like this, and the night before your semester exams arrived.
It was almost midnight when you finished rereading your notes for the millionth time, thinking of finally going to sleep. When, suddenly, you heard noises coming from one of the dorms. Once you opened your window to see what was going on, you could clearly hear someone play the guitar.
"Just the perfect time to do that, eh?" you thought, wondering whether the person was so sure about their academics or simply decided not to study at all.
As curiosity got the better of you, you tried to see where the melody was coming from.
Oh how surprised you got once you realized that it was, in fact, Beomgyu's dorm that the guitar play was heard from.
"Really? Never thought he also knows how to play the guitar", the thought popped in your head, leaving you wonder just how many other skills the guy has.
While thinking of that, you suddenly heard him play a familiar song. Too familiar even, it was one of your favourites.
"So we even share similar music taste, huh.." you thought, the idea of actually trying to at least get acquaintanced with Beomgyu popping up in your brain for the first time.
He wasn't bad at all, somewhat reminding you the image of your ideal type even.
With that thought, you closed the window, sliding down onto your bed and soon drifting off to sleep, accompanied by quiet chords of Beomgyu's play as a lullaby.
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