#i REALLY wanted to say ‘fuck your journey and fuck your coffee. plan better’ but instead i had to make an americano

[queers-gambit]

Two to Tango

prompt: the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader pairing: Carmy x Peach

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

collection masterlist: Clingy Baby

word count: 5.4k+

note: author still does not want any messages about glorifying toxic relationships. typically, but not always, when someone calls you clingy, it's weaponized and is abusive. this fic is not meant to portray that! it’s meant to show internal agony and the journey to forgiveness - Carmy apologizes 'cause he's actually sorry!

warnings: cursing, reader folds 'cause who wouldn't for the sweet puppy that is Carmy, hurt and comfort, small angst, small fluff, we talk about Mikey a bit, author uses writing as therapy, relationship angst...? barely edited.

part one: God's Plan

"It's six in the Goddamn morning!" You raged at your front door, stomping up to it, "Are you dumb in the fucking head!? Who the fuck in their right mind knocks like the Goddamn cops at six in the fucking morning!?"

You whipped it open, the force causing a breeze of air to blow your bedridden hair back and highlight your exhaustion. "Hiya, sunshine," Richie beamed down at you, holding up a paper bag, offering, "donut?"

"Richie!? I know you're not fuckin' stupid, baby boy, so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's six in the morning on my day off - do you want to give me a reason to punch you? You hate your nose that much?"

He tisked at you mockingly, "Someone's cranky this morning."

"What do you want?"

"You're not gonna invite me in for coffee? I brought us donuts! See? C'mon, Peach," He jostled the bag around with a shit-eating, closed-lip smile. "Dooonuts," he taunted.

You had to pause, count to ten in your head, then sigh through your nose. You offered kindly, "Richie? Would you like to come in for some coffee? Since you kindly brought donuts?"

He grinned, "Awwh, thanks, Peach, thats real nice of yah! Don't mind if I do!"

"Don't call me that," you snapped, leading him into your kitchen. The door shut and locked.

"Oh, someone's touchy."

"What do you fucking want?" You whined, pouring two mugs of hot coffee. "You come bangin' at my door, early ass in the mornin'. You better have a good-ass reason," you slid the mug over the counter he sat at. "Cream or sugar?"

He shook his head, fiddling with the mug for a moment before admitting as you dressed up your own coffee, "Uh, so... It's Carmy."

You paused, taking a slow sip from your mug, waiting for more that wouldn't come. So, you quietly asked, "What about Carmy?"

"He's falling apart."

"O...Kay?"

"Peach," he frowned, "you know that your relationship was the only thing that made sense to him - he's falling apart without you there."

"Okay," you nodded, taking another swallow of hot bean-water.

"That's it? Nothing else to say? Dude's losin' his fuckin' shit, Peach. Okay? Barely leaves the restaurant, h-he's all manic and shit, doesn't stop cookin', isn't gettin' a lotta sleep, and Syd said his clothes are all over the apartment - he's not keeping himself in order."

"So, he needs his mother?"

Richie glared with a clenched jaw, "Not fuckin' funny, Peach."

"I'm not laughing."

"He needs you."

"I'd argue otherwise, he's a grown fuckin' man who doesn't need to be taken care of. Look, if he was man enough to call me a desperate, clingy bitch, he's man enough to deal with the fallout of his words."

"Look, hey, hey, hey, I'm not sayin' he's not in the wrong," he waved his hands, eyes widening, "actually, the exact opposite. We all chewed his ass out when we found out what he fuckin' said, Peach. And look, I've never seen Fak that fuckin' angry."

You semi-pouted your bottom lip, "Really?"

"Fak was ready to strangle Carmy, I think," Richie sighed. "I yelled, Sugar yelled, Fak lost his shit, Syd even cornered him in the office and laid into him..."

"I thought she didn't like me," you whispered.

"She's getting to know you, but she likes you," he assured, "and it's obvious the affect you have on Carmy. We all respect that - "

"Oh, great, so everyone except the one person who needs to respect our relationship - respects it!"

Richie frowned at you, nodding in agreement before admitting, "He's a dumb fuckin' idiot, Peach, we all know that, but the dude is losing it without you."

"Sucks to suck."

"Peach," he groaned, slapping his hands to the counter with exasperation. "Don't you love him?"

"Of course I love him, but I also have this little thing called self-respect! He said some shit - shit he can't ever take back. The fuck I look like going back to him when he's the one in the wrong!? I don't hate myself that much, and despite what he says, I'm not that desperate for love."

"How is talking to the man you love - "

"Richie," you paused him, "your Cousin said a lot of hurtful shit. It's been weeks, okay? He's gonna snap outta it, realize what he's done, and right the wrongs he's committed. I don't need to speed that along in any way, shape, or form - he's a grown man. And I'm a grown woman, I don't have to fall to anyone's beck-and-call, he can figure his own shit out."

"I know - look, it's been fuckin' weeks of us dealin' with him losin' his fuckin' mind!" Richie snapped. "We tried to respect that you wanted distance and time, we really did, but he's losin' it, Peach, more than he's lost it before. Okay? I'm concerned about him, more than I was when the shit with Mikey went down..."

You sighed and leaned on your kitchen counter, wiping your fingers over your eyes to pinch the bridge of your nose after. "Okay, okay," you paused, sighing again, blinking as you looked at Richie, "so, what would you like me to do?"

He pouted dramatically, "Talk to him? Please?"

"To say... What?"

"I don't know, you guys can work that out together, but he's miserable, Peach. Just talk to him, just..." He sighed, shaking his head, "I know it's not fair to ask of you, but he's slippin' off the deep end. You're all he knows, all that makes sense to him, and with you gone..." His eyes turned red as he held back his tears, "I-I'm not sayin' he's gonna do anythin', Peach, but everythin' with Mikey's still so fresh... I just - I can't go through this again. Can't lose another Berzatto."

You frowned, understanding now why he appeared so frazzled.

"Carmy's not Mikey, Richie, okay?" You reminded him softly, reaching for his hand; leaving your extended to reach him, "And you're not gonna lose any more of us, you hear me?" You gave a squeeze, "I'll talk to him."

"Really?"

"I will," you assured softly, seeing the single tear drop from his waterline when he bowed his head and sniffled harshly. "Hey, Richie...? Do you, maybe, wanna bring some flowers to Mikey today? Think you wanna visit?"

He shrugged, "Maybe..."

"Maybe it'll be nice," you assured calmly. "It rained a few days ago, so, the ground won't be too soggy anymore, but the grass will be lush and green - hydrated and shit."

"Right," he chuckled, nodding, "yeah, okay, maybe that'll be nice, yeah, you're right."

"Maybe Carmy could use a visit, too."

"He won't go."

You nodded, "I know, but sometimes it's nice to just have the offer."

Richie agreed, downing the last of his black coffee. "All right," he cleared his throat, "let's go - you wearin' that?"

"What?"

"You gonna wear that? To go talk to Carmy?"

"It's not even seven in the morning!"

"He's at the restaurant," Richie shrugged. "Dude doesn't leave. C'mon, he needs a nap or somethin'."

You groaned, knowing he wouldn't leave unless you left with him. So, you got ready quickly while he sat at your desktop computer; playing Facebook's FarmVille - the same you left your little cousins to play when they needed distracted. He was enraptured by the adorable virtual sheep, laughing to himself as he learned the ropes of the game; and when you were ready, you had time to fill a to-go tumbler of coffee while he signed off.

When you arrived at The Beef, it was still closed for the morning prep; and inside, chaos rained in a fury of angry voices. You listened to Carmy snap at Marcus about something petty, going as far as to slap a pastry out of his hand as they argued in one another's faces with ignited passion.

"Ooookay," you moved through the kitchen and got between the two men, hands on Carmy's chest, "that's enough, Chef, hey, hey, hey, c'mon, walk away - just walk away, Carmy, don't do this. Hey, hey, don't do this, c'mon, just step off - walk away with me, please. Please, Carmy, hey, hey, step off, walk away with me, please."

"Fuck you doin' here, Peach?" He asked with red, swollen eyes. He looked sullen; pale between the angry red blotches to his skin, bags under his tired eyes, looking worn out and thinner than you remembered.

"Yeah, hey, hey, we'll talk about that, c'mon, outside, outside, outside," you directed him, sighing at the sight of the splattered pastry you were forced to step over. "I'm so sorry, Marcus," you whispered, seeing him nod and wave you off as you and Carmy pushed outside into the alley.

The door shut behind you, making Carmy snarl, "What the fuck, Peach - "

"No, I think that's better asked to you," you snapped. "The hell's wrong with you? Yellin' at Marcus like that? You know how rude it is to slap shit outta anyone's hand?"

He paced in anger, wiping a hand down his face; circling his mouth with his fingers, eyes ringed with red, hair greasy and tossed in a mess. His pants looked baggy, his shirt wrinkled, stained, and dirty with sweat marks.

"What're you doin' here?" He asked in a pant, hands going to his slender hips, head shaking as his tear-filled eyes avoided yours.

"Carmy, we need to talk."

"No shit," he breathed, scoffing after and widening his pace.

"Hey, Carmy, hey, hey," you reached for him, taking both his wrists in your grasp so he had to face you. "I need you to pause for me, please, hey," you stepped in his way when he tried to move. "Carmy, you're no good to anyone when you're like this - least of all yourself. So, I need you to talk - "

"You left," he panicked, pulling back to start pacing again. "You left - you left me. We got in a fight and you left, you fucking left. You walked away and you left me."

"Carmy, we got in more than a fight," you sighed. "You lashed out at me, then turned avoidant, and I don't linger where I'm not wanted."

"How can you think that?" He demanded, still pacing. "That you're not wanted by me? That you're not welcome, what? In my life? At my side? With me? Baby - of course, you are!"

"You didn't exactly make me feel any different," you pointed out sharply. "Carmy, can you please fucking pause for me so we can talk this out - "

"I know I fucked up," he ranted to himself, huffing and puffing as his emotion strangled him. "I know I did, I kept - I couldn't - I fucked up. I know I did. I couldn't get my head outta my ass," he listed, pacing as he panted when panic took hold of his being, "and I hurt you, and it was like I had to keep hurting you because I couldn't be alone in what I felt and I couldn't exactly figure out what the fuck I was feeling - I just needed you to hurt, too."

"Carmy," you sighed patiently.

"And I couldn't stop, I just kept going, and when I realized how bad I made it, I couldn't fucking stop - I needed y-yo-you t-to know what I felt, but I couldn't find the words. I-I hate that I did that, I-I fucking hurt you and I made this so much worse than it ever had t-to be, and I fucking know, Peach, okay? I know you're not clingy, you were just loving me. Y-You were loving me, you were using your own love languages, and I felt y-you so fuckin' close to me, and freaked out - I just - I just don't know why. I just - I panicked, I couldn't stop whatever I felt, and I'm so sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, wiping his cheeks as the tears started. "I-I-I'm so sorry, Peach, I couldn't control myself and I-I hate that I hurt you, and I know I don't deserve your understanding, but I just - I couldn't stop - "

"Carmy," you stepped directly in his footpath; needing to seize hold of his swollen biceps to catch his movements as he all but barreled right into you, "I need you to breathe."

"Nah, I'm okay - "

"No, you're not," you spoke sternly, shaking your head. "Baby," you eased your tone to a softer tone, seeing a glimmer of hope spark in his baby blues, "I need you to take a breath and remain in the present with me, okay? Just stand here with me," you watched as he blinked a couple of times; reaching out to hold your waist tentatively. "And stay in the present, okay? Stay here with me."

"I'm so sorry, Peach," he whispered, stepping closer so he could feel your breasts against his chest; caging you with his arms. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, I didn't - I didn't know what the fuck I was even trying to fight with you about. You're not clingy - you're not any of the things I said, I didn't mean it - any of it."

"Calling me desperate?"

"I didn't mean any of it."

"A bitch?"

"Please," he whispered, bringing you in closer so he could rest his forehead on yours. "Don't repeat it, I know what I said, and I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm goin' crazy without yah, Peach. I need my best girl, and I don't deserve you, but I fuckin' need you." He sniffled, pulling back to caress your cheek, whispering, "I need you, Peach, you're the only thing that I know - the only thing I can understand, that makes sense to me. I think I just felt stressed and overwhelmed, I wasn't sure what to do - I couldn't find the words, I'm so sorry."

You nodded slowly, "I think we can work through this."

"I don't deserve you."

"Maybe not, but you have me anyway," you whispered, bringing his forehead to your own again. "But you can't do this again, taking anger out on me when I haven't done anything."

"Never again," he sighed, now nestling into your neck for comfort; arms tightening so you were the closest you could be with your head bent to keep his head caressed with yours.

"I don't think we can say 'never', but we can make an effort to leave work stress at work, right?" You whispered softly, letting one around coil around him to keep him close; the other caressing his jaw. "You don't get to treat me like that," you reminded him, "because I'm on your side, Carmy, I'm not the enemy."

"I know," he squeezed you tight.

"And the people doing their jobs are not the enemy," you smirked.

"I know," he chuckled lightly. "I owe Marcus an apology..."

"I'm sure you owe it to the others, too," you mused, holding his cheek as you turned your head to kiss his forehead. "Promise me we're done with that reactive bullshit. It doesn't make navigating a relationship easier on us."

"We're done, we're so fuckin' done with that shit," he whispered, deflating into your embrace as you held him close. "I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."

"I know," you comforted softly. "I forgive you."

"I don't deserve it."

"Hey, hey, this self-deprecating stunt has to end, too. We've gotta go forward with at least some confidence if we're gonna figure this out together."

He nodded, pulling back but keeping hold of your waist. "I am confident about this... About you - about us."

"Hmm?" You gently pushed a few stray curls from his forehead.

"Move in with me - officially."

Your face contorted in mild disappointment, "Oh, Carmen - "

"No, no," he rushed, sighing as his hand flattened on your jaw and cheek again, "just listen to me. I've wanted to ask you for a long time, okay? I've wanted this for - like - fucking years. Hear me? I just," he sighed, "I wasn't sure how to ask. I want this for us, I want us to be together, okay? Officially. I-I want us living together, Peach, okay? I want to come home and just - I want you there. I want all of you," he frowned, tears swelling again, "and all your shoes in the foyer, hair in the shower drain, perfume on the counter, and every-single-way you know how to love me. I was wrong to say you were clingy - and everything else I said. Baby, the last couple weeks, I've felt so fucking empty, so lonely and - just - cold. I've been cold without you. I need you, Peach, I need you with me, and I need you to be exactly you - no holding back. Because you're exactly who I need to love me, I'm so sorry I fucked that up before."

"Carmy."

He frowned, "I'm sorry."

"I know," you smirked, "and I forgive you. But you know it's gonna take more than a few pretty words and some tears, right?"

He nodded, "Anything to make this work again."

You sighed in patience, "Go say your apologies to the others, we've got t'make a stop before going back to yours - and you're going to take a fucking nap."

"I'm fine - "

"Look me in my eye and try to tell me in the past 72 hours, you've had decent, restful sleep."

He frowned, opening his mouth a few times but then sighing. "You know I can't," he whispered.

"Exactly why we're going back to yours."

Carmy paused, brows furrowing as if a thread pulled them together. He asked softly, "Is that a no to us... Living together? Is that why you're calling it 'my' place?"

You offered him a look of patience and leaned in to peck his lips for a few prolonged seconds, promising, "There's your apartment, there's my apartment, and then there's gonna be our apartment. Somewhere that's just ours, 100% us." His mouth stretched in a grin, so you swiftly cut him off, "But you have to ask me again when you've got restful sleep under your belt. I want you clear headed when you make this kinda decision."

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed. "Where're we goin' before?"

You swallowed nervously, telling him softly, "You absolutely do not have to go with us, but I think Richie could use a visit out to Mikey's grave. I said I'd take him with some flowers, but you do not have to get out to go with us - not if you're not ready."

He blinked a few times, rolling his lips between his teeth as his eyes dropped from yours. You were about to coo his name and assure him again, when he nodded at you and tried to half-smile. "Okay," he breathed.

"Okay?"

"Mhm. I'll, uh... M-Maybe I can, just, hang back in the car."

"Sure, baby, whatever you're comfortable with," you whispered, leaning in to peck his forehead. "You good?"

"I will be."

"Mhm," you hummed, caressing his cheek again before pushing your hand into his curls. "Now, let's get a move on - I want you to march in there, say you're sorry to your Chefs, and then we'll leave."

"Yes, ma'am," Carmy whispered, leaning in to kiss you - but you pulled back.

"Aht," you halted him with a teasing finger to his lips, "after we've got everything worked out, then you can kiss me."

"You got t'kiss me," he mumbled against your finger; making you hum as you fought off a stretching smile, and lower your hand.

"Fair point - just one then - "

He cut you off by, indeed, pressing a single kiss to your lips, but not pulling back. His hand raised to hold the back of your head, your lips spreading in a grin against his; finding rhythm to move together before pausing to press in prolonged passion.

When he pulled back, you both paused to smile, and when you tried to peck his lips again, he pulled back, teasing, "Aht, just the one."

"Oh, fuck you," you laughed lightly, letting him take your hand before leading you back into the kitchen. The other Chefs lingered, sparing you and Carmy a few nervous glances, making you whisper in his ear as you squeezed his hand, "Go ahead, baby, get it done."

He nodded and called the kitchen to attention, clearing his throat, and beginning to make his apologies. He singled out Marcus, then Sydney, Richie, and Sugar; the kitchen staff all accepting his words and insisting he could take the day off - even the next few days if he wanted! You had to usher him to grab his things a few times, nudging him in reminder and verbally pushing him back into action. That boy's ADHD would truly be the death of him.

"So?" Richie smirked at you as Marcus handed you a packaged box of pastries.

"We're talking it out."

He chuckled, "Good. Get him outta here, Peach, dude needs to breathe."

"I got it," you swatted him away as Carmy exited the office. "But we've got somewhere to be first, right?"

He paused, then nodded and asked in a mutter, "He said okay?"

"He's got time to decide what he wants to do, but he knows we're going. C'mon, get your coat."

Richie met you at the front of the restaurant and with a parting wink to Sugar, you took Carmy's hand, tangled your fingers together, and left to venture to your parked car. Carmy got in the front, Richie in the back, and after a stop at a corner bodega to grab three bouquets of flowers, you drove to the cemetery. Carmy was silent, no music played, and Richie's leg bounced in anxious tension; making small conversation with you about your job in an effort to distract himself.

When you arrived, you pulled up on the access road that you knew was closest to Mikey's grave. Richie spared a glare between you and Carmy before muttering that he needed a cigarette and got out of the car to leave you alone. "Baby?" You whispered, reaching for his hand. "Hey, look, if you don't want to go with us, it's okay. We won't be long... But maybe you want to sign this," you showed him the small, blank name card left in the flowers.

"Why?" He whispered.

You shrugged, "So he knows they're from you."

"Peach," he sighed, meeting your eyes.

"Baby, I know it's silly, I know it's easier to ignore it all. But I'd like to believe it's just a nice gesture for our own closure - it's a signed gift from us, to them... And maybe it's nice to pretend that wherever they are, they know what we've left for them."

Carmy nodded slowly, "I-I don't think... I don't think I can go..."

"It's okay, baby," you whispered.

"But," he sniffled, opening his hand to you, "I'll sign it, if you'll leave it for me?"

"Of course," you rushed, opening your purse to producing a pen for him. The clank card rest on the center console of your car, pausing, swallowing nervously, then scribbling his name as he cleared his throat. He offered you the pen, waited until it was put away, then offered the flowers. "Hang tight, we won't be too long," you whispered, leaning in to rest your forehead. "You okay?"

He nodded, pecking your forehead before letting you get out of the car. You handed Richie his own flowers with a signed card, holding your own and Carmy's; linking arms with Rich to venture up the small grass hill and moved about halfway down the cemetery plot line. When you came to his stone, you understood this was what Rich needed more than you, so, you knelt and laid the two bouquets down before starting to quickly groom the area around his tombstone.

You told him, "I'm sorry it's not much, but I'll be back later for a picnic and a chat. I brought you flowers from me a-and from Carmy. He's in the car, but he's here, Mikey... Give him time," you whispered, brushing dirt from the stone before standing. "Take your time," you told Richie softly, seeing the tears gather in his eyes.

"Thanks, Peach," he whispered, offering you a tight hug. When you pulled back and started to walk away, Richie lowered himself to kneel and lay his own flowers down; hearing him tell Mikey, "Don't gotta worry 'bout us, Mike-Man, Peach is the glue that keeps us together. Shit, she even got Carmy out here..."

You made it back to the car and got in, smiling at Carmy - but dropping it the instant you saw tears in his eyes. "Talk to me," you whispered, reaching for a wet wipe in your glovebox to clean your hands after plucking the grass and brushing off dirt from the grave.

"Why can't I get out?"

You only stared at him for a long moment, unsure what to say.

"I'm here... I'm finally here... Why can't I get out?"

"You're not ready," you nodded, tossing the wipe aside to a plastic bag. "It's okay, Carmy, it's okay to not be ready yet. We can come back when you are," you reached for his hand.

"I think this added to my frustration," he admitted. "I couldn't... I didn't go to the funeral, haven't been here since he was... You know."

"Laid to rest."

"Yeah," he sighed. "Fuck's wrong with me?"

"You're grieving," you relented, nuzzling closer so your head rested on his shoulder. "It's not linear, Carmy, baby, just let yourself feel. When you try to repress your emotions, you lash out inappropriately."

"I know," he whispered, "'M sorry."

"It's not your fault," you promised, the two of you quietly bowing your heads together. You remained as such until Richie got back in the car, and from there, it was quiet as everyone stewed in their own emotion. You dropped Rich back at work before promising to call him later and driving away; heading for Carmy's apartment in the soothing silence, his hand locked in yours.

When you arrived at his apartment, you froze upon seeing the interior's state. "Oh, Carmy, no," you whispered, frowning deeply.

"Looks worse than it is," he deflected. You only hummed and let him lead you to the bedroom; watching him strip and prepare for bed before joining you on the mattress. He crashed almost immediately, sighing in relief as he pecked over your shoulder and collarbone, muttering, "'M so glad you're back. 'M so sorry, Peach."

"I know you are, and I forgive you," you told him softly, carding a manicured hand through his hair. "Just get some rest, baby."

He was asleep nearly instantly. He deflated on top of you, deeply resting enough to not notice you slip out from under him. You cleaned his entire apartment; doing laundry, cleaning, scrubbing, replacing necessities he deemed himself too lazy to pay attention to. You did dishes, cleaned out his fridge, and as you mopped up the floors, the sun set and Carmy emerged from the bedroom.

"Baby?" He mumbled in earnest confusion, sighing in relief when he saw you.

"What? Afraid I disappeared on you?" You teased with a small grin.

"For sure," he mumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes; making your amusement dim when you realized the nerve it struck. "The hell you doin'?"

"You didn't seriously think I could rest knowing this monster of a clean-up job lingered out here, did you?"

"I don't want you t'clean after me."

"Well, too late," you smirked. "You good now?"

"I feel better, yeah."

"Good."

"And I made up my mind."

"Hmm? About what?"

"I'm gonna take some time off work," he nodded, "and focus on us. Get us in a new crib, it'll be nice."

"Think you can handle that?"

He nodded, "I'll have to, you're the most important thing in my life, I can't lose you. So, if I gotta take time off, that's the least of my worries. I'm only here for us, for you."

You smiled at him, setting the mop aside to wrap him in your arms. "I like the sound of that, us making a home together - being able to decorate a new home. But don't let me overdo it, okay? I get all excited and kinda bulldoze my way through projects. I don't want you t'find real reason t'resent me."

"Nah, that ain't possible," he promised quietly.

True to his word, Carmy took three solid weeks off; agreeing to a fourth week as a contact-only consultant. You and he slept in most days, looking at apartments, and not once did he even mention work. He was diligent in his attention, focused on you and you alone; putting in overtime to rebuild that what was broke by focusing on shared interests again. You found a place you loved ready for what was basically immediate move-in, taking time to pack your respected places and prepare for the official start of your cohabitating relationship.

You didn't forget what he said, being reserved in your displays of love. Yet Carmy was different; he was totally clingy the moment you returned to his life. He feared letting you go meant you'd disappear again, feared you'd run away again. He held your hand at every possible opportunity, got you a fresh bouquet of weekly flowers, ran all his errands with you; never went to bed without you, cooked all meals with you in the kitchen - perched up on a counter. Most showers you took together, and almost every night was spent cuddling on the couch or in bed with either a book being shared between you or a new show playing on the mounted flatscreen TV.

Carmy clung because he thought if he showed you acts of his love, it'd allow comfort towards your loving behavior to flourish again - and he was right. It took a little bit of time, but Carmy clung tighter and tighter; ensuring you started to reciprocate before ever easing up in the intensity of his affectionate displays. He didn't want to overwhelm you, but knew you needed the reassurance.

You were cautious, you were apprehensive; tiptoeing around Carmy even when living together before warming back up to him. You didn't need to repeat the words he hurled at you all those weeks ago, not wanting to dredge up repressed feelings, but never letting him forget what he said. Your actions spoke enough, skittish around his affection; something Carmy took note of and despised himself for. He made up for it, of course he did, it was Carmy and he hated tension and conflict in his closest circles of life. Yet it wasn't so easy for you two to move forward, they weren't just words to you.

They were direct insults to you as a person; to you and how you loved others. Carmy had seen your deepest fear and used it as a defense against you - wanting you to hurt the way he was, too. He understood this wasn't acceptable, knowing the next time he resorted to such despicable actions, you'd simply walk away; never dealing with disrespect, so, he needed to be acutely aware of his words.

You would never allow yourself to be someone else's doormat, but part of being an adult is understanding that people were allowed to make mistakes - it's part of being fucking human. How terrible you'd feel if someone held your own mistakes against you, because the truth was, you weren't perfect either.

Part of being in a(n adult) relationship is understanding when someone apologized, it was best to accept and move on because nothing was ever solved by dragging turmoil out. This didn't mean forget what happened, forget whatever emotion was evoked - but to do your part to repair what was broken; no matter who was at fault, it always took Two to Tango.

And in this song and dance, you were ready to sweep around the dance floor if only with Carmy. Because that's what a relationship was; a conscious effort by both partners to work as one, to dance in-sync; owning the art together, as equal partners.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

[promptling]

KILL BILL VOL. 1. ( 2003 ),ㅤDIR. QUENTIN TARANTINO change pronouns as needed

do you find me sadistic?

i bet i could fry an egg on your head right now.

at this moment, this is me at my most masochistic.

it's your baby.

come on, bitch.

how was school?

your good-for-nothing dog got into the living room and acted a damn fool.

there's broken glass everywhere and you could cut yourself.

such a pretty name for such a pretty girl.

you know, i had a little girl once.

you want some coffee?

do you have a towel?

so i suppose it's a little late for an apology, huh?

it's mercy, compassion, and forgiveness i lack - not rationality.

i know i fucked you over.

you have every right to want to get even.

you and i have unfinished business.

so you can just kiss my motherfucking ass.

this is the work of professionals.

a sure and steady hand did this.

she's a little blood-splattered angel.

point in fact, i despise you.

dying in our sleep is a luxury that our kind is rarely afforded.

my gift to you.

for fuck's sake!

oh, you don't owe her shit!

will you keep your voice down?

may i say one thing?

the reason we won't do that thing, is because that thing would lower us.

do you really have to guess?

come on home, honey.

i love you very much.

thought that was pretty fucking funny, didn't you?

please stop hitting me.

you fucker.

when fortune smiles on something as violent and ugly as revenge, it seems proof like no other that not only does god exist, you're doing his will.

can you speak japanese?

may i sit at the bar?

i'm watching my soap operas.

oh, shit.

now you're making fun of me.

i heard it was kind of hard.

i came to see a man.

i have vermin to kill.

you must have big rats.

funny, you like samurai swords - i like baseball.

i wanted to show you these.

i no longer make instruments of death.

these are not for sale.

why should i help you?

you can sleep here.

if on your journey, you should encounter god, god will be cut.

do you like ferraris?

don't laugh.

i encourage you, from time to time, and always in a respectful manner to question my logic.

if you're unconvinced a particular plan i've decided is wises, tell me so.

now if any of you sons of bitches got anything else to say, now's the fucking time.

this meeting is adjourned.

you're gonna get your head chopped off.

that's not on our menu.

any more subordinates for me to kill?

our reputations precede us.

i know you feel you must protect your mistress, but i beg you, walk away.

you call that begging? you can beg better than that.

is that what i think it is?

you didn't think it would be that easy, did you?

silly rabbit.

go home to your mother!

swords, however, never get tired.

i hope you've saved your energy. if you haven't, you might not last five minutes.

attack me with everything you have.

for ridiculing you earlier, i apologize.

please forgive my betrayal.

i am going to ask you questions. and every time you don't give me answers, i'm going to cut something off. and i promise you, they will be things you will miss.

revenge is never a straight line.

she must suffer to her last breath.

how did you find me?

[spoke-n-languish]

A hero’s journey…

…into town, to get some eggs and a carton of milk, and then back again to his abode to stow them safely in his refrigerator: mission accomplished.

I know that I’ve fucked this up for everybody, and I truly am sorry. It has become abundantly clear that the script was never intended to carry on this long. I have disappointed many people over the years, but never an entire community at once in addition to everyone that I love and care about. Even people that never liked me and were certain I would fail have become taciturn at the onus that maintaining this production has assayed on their erstwhile quotidian rut. I don’t think that the blame should fall entirely onto my shoulders as I never asked for this nor have I yet quit trying (I really just don’t know what to do), but as nobody has materialized from Narnia, or the Æther, or the shadow lands of Nod, or wherever it is that you have secreted yourselves away to, for everyone else affected - mine is the only face they can see to scowl at.

Initially I was consumed with grief and broken by betrayal… but I got better and formulated a plan (which I thought had reasonable odds of success), but then I discovered that the belaborments and woeful outcries of my ravaged heart and shattered soul had successfully provided more than adequate distraction to allow me to fall prey to an extraordinarily elaborate mash-up of the 3-card Moanaté Badger Game with a HoneyPotter Pig-in-a-Poke overshadowing a “South Park” Oculus Rift-‘Van Winkle’, all neatly tucked into one Dickens of “A Stargate Christmas Carol: Special Victims Unit” all for “A Fistful of Dollars” with the Spanish Prisoner left at the altar of ‘Affinity’. Needless to say. I did not pick the “lucky lady” out of the tertiantella Danse Machiavellian that I found mysclf all aswirl 1N. (In fact, I’m certain even this does not adequately enunciate the subtle variegated nuances, and delicately layered (as if a master baker’s baklava or tiramisu) and nimbly interwoven puppeteering of this magna opera which I praise optime cum laude!

But as fun as it is to masquerade and I can only imagine the rush of being included in the conspiratorial hoodwinking with a wink and a Nod to your Corner then Bow to your Beau, then Dosey-Do and Around we go; Promenate in the Gutter with a Beaver-Fur Cap, now 2 x 2 Through the Gate with the Clap; From our Cueric ETSRDA you’ll take your Cues, Tea Cup Chain or Chain-Gang Thru; Swing your Hoe-Down she’s an Arky Belle then Top the Coffee Kitty like a Faux Angel; Sashay the Phantom in the Swill; Yellow Rock, Red Rock, and the Star-Tips the Frill!

All quite synchronized and very exciting to be a part of, but you can only square dance for so long before it becomes wearying and eventually (despite the fervor of the foile à d’ville) being told exactly where, when, and what to do next at each ‘turn’ by the gent caller can lose a little luster. One may desire a return to a more familiar and comfortably secure routine, and so is the ambient temperature around the town. Certainly not a soul has betrayed the confidence of the games-master(s), and all facades have been dutifully maintained… all roles unequivocally performed, but to a trained eye (or to a wildly moonstruck third), the heart-force driving it isn’t as strong as it was in the onset.

I do not want anyone to misconstrue this very key point I am about to make here: I in no way, shape or form am belittling or diminishing in any way the communally singular and titanic efforts wrought by the amazingly generous, patient and hard-working people of this community as much to the contrary, I am awe-struck by how much you all have done and magnificently so… it is one of the reasons I am sometimes brought literally to tears being moved so by graces demonstrated by all for just one who has never been deserving of any of it and I know that I will never be able to repay this. I understand that many of you see these forays as a lesson to my laxitudinal nonchalance towards arrearages owed (which is understandable as that is how this particular backdrop has been painted), but that debt I was always aware of and it grew out of hand by my own decisions for it to do so… but the debt that has me hammered into place is the debt of kindness and gratitude I now owe to each and every one of you which I can devote a hundred lifetimes over and still not repay in full.

But, what I believe I am understanding in an emotional undercurrent sort of way, is the fatigue from attrition of performing at such a high demand for perfection for longer than was originally written in the playbill. And for this, I believe I do shoulder the yoke of responsibility. Not intentionally but rather by default as I too have been kept at a philharmonic emotional symphony and just beaten to and fro on a mental and spiritual level that I fear I missed key opportunities and just through the blindness of the damned did not see when I was to have performed my role, played my part, and delivered the quintessential metamorphosis and rebirth to deliver us all from this eternal winter. I am so sorry to everyone. You have all worked so diligently for so long and so hard for this and I wish that I could do that one thing required of me and provide that release everyone is so ready for… but I still don’t know what it is. I surely must have missed a critical clue or tip as I know it must have been given but I’m afraid I’m my distraught state I passed it or did not hear it correctly. You must all be tired of having to carry on for one who can’t even carry his own weight it would seem and I cannot blame you or fault you if you do. All I can offer is to redouble my efforts (which I believe I have said so much now that surely I am at a least 256x my original efforts) …which should put me somewhere around 176.64x full effort given {sorry, just a little math humor}. But if you don’t see me out and about and getting in the way, please understand that I am still trying, still doing what I can to solve this… for everyone’s sake.

I have been manipulated more so than anyone through these productions, but I am still determined as ever to bring this to a close regardless of personal cost because I cannot allow any of you to suffer excess burden any more than you already have for my expense. If you don’t know me yet, just please understand that while it may not seem like it, I really do sincerely want the best for everyone and humbly I thank you all for what you have already persevered on my behalf.

La storia di un burattino… for reals, yo!

[finelinevogue]

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

                                                            ••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?" 

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

                                                          ••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

                                                             ••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

[foreverindreamlandd]

The Sergeant's Heart +Epilogue ❤️+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

Series Summary: Sergeant Bucky Barnes has just joined the 107th, and he’s keen on learning the ins and outs of war from the best medic in the regiment, you.

WC: 4.1k

Warnings: Hooo boy there is a lot of angst. But then, :)

A/N: In case you didn't see, this is the alternate epilogue for The Sergeant's Heart. To get a better sense of what happened with our beloved reader after Chapter 9 (and if you'd like to crying your fucking eyes out), you may do so here.

Because I put you all through enough pain, and Steve decided to throw a wrench in the multiverse with no repercussions, why can't we also benefit from it?

Also, though I don't really need to mention it, I want to say that this has been the plan since before I even started posting the series. I'm a sucker for a happy ending and couldn't rob these two of one.

Thank you for trusting me with this story, fam. I'll get more mushy at the end of the chapter, but please know that my heart is so full and I'm so happy that you all joined me on this journey. Enjoy. <3

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

+++++++++++++

Time passed.

Not as much as you thought, though.

You had moved back to Queens and continued your work as a nurse. The pain of everything you had lost always lingered, but you learned to live with it.

You fought to survive each day, because that’s what Bucky would have wanted you to do.

Four years after you returned home from war, someone knocked on your door out of the blue.

You figured it might be your neighbor asking you to help fix their radio….again.

Instead, you opened the door to find the familiar face of your lovely English friend, a giant smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to ask what had her in such a tip top mood when someone stepped up next to her.

Your vision slowly went black, and you shook your head to try and fight the darkness that was pulling you under.

“Steve?”

You collapsed before he could respond.

A few moments later, your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself laying on the couch with Steve and Peggy hovering over you with concern.

“Y/n, darling, are you okay?” Peggy pressed a hand to your forehead. You swatted her away, sitting up.

Your eyes were planted on Steve’s.

“What….how…”

“I can explain,” he cut you off with a sheepish smile. “It’s one hell of a story, though. And once I’m done,” his head turned to the coffee table where a mysterious silver suitcase sat, “I’m going to ask you to make a very big decision.”

Steve glanced over at Peggy and took her hand.

Then, he looked back at you and started talking.

+++++++++++

James Buchanen Barnes had spent 70 years of his life with a voice residing in his head.

A soft, angelic whisper that existed somewhere deep inside the depths of his ruined brain.

He had no idea who she was.

She never said anything other than his nickname. Or he would hear the sound of her laugh, echoing in the back of his mind.

Even when Hydra had him locked into that dreaded machine, filling his body with an unimaginable pain that made him crave death, he would hear her say his name.

Even when his mind was not his own, when the Winter Soldier was in control and he was just a vessel for the assassin, when the name Bucky no longer meant anything to him, he would hear her laugh.

So faint, barely there, but just enough.

His constant companion throughout decades of nothingness.

It wasn’t until Captain America found him 70 years later that he started to remember life before the Winter Soldier. When he became Bucky once again.

Each memory that returned with time felt like a knife in his gut, the realization of the monster he had become no longer something he could shut out.

He remembered Steve, his mom, his sister.

Finally, he remembered you.

It took a while for him to remember who the voice inside his head belonged to. It had driven Bucky crazy, the fact that these people who meant so much to him had come back relatively quickly, but still he knew that none of them owned the voice that stayed with him throughout his entire time with Hydra.

Once he did remember, he wished he could forget all over again, because the pain he felt when you returned to him was worse than anything Hydra had ever done.

It happened at the Smithsonian. He had decided to visit the exhibit dedicated to Steve to try and bring more of his memories back. To know more about the man behind the shield who was supposedly his best friend.

What he hadn’t expected was to see himself, plastered around the building like some sort of hero. To see his friends that made up the Howling Commandos: Dum Dum, Jonathan, Gabe, Morita, Falsworth, Jacques, and the medic with a smile that took his breath away.

No, that wasn’t it. The feeling was more akin to a punch in the gut as realization set in.

It was you. You were the voice. He knew that as soon as he saw your picture, your eyes piercing his.

Seeing your face for the first time after so many years almost made him fall to the floor as anguish and agony slammed into him.

Seeing the videos of you smiling at him, a mute laugh coming from your beautiful mouth.

The footage couldn’t catch the sound, but he could hear it.

He had been hearing that angelic sound for 70 years.

As he continued through the exhibit, head dizzy from the onslaught of emotions barreling through his mind as your voice rang through his ears, growing louder and louder with each step, he realized that the source of your voice was no longer in his head.

It was being broadcasted somewhere else. A video displayed on one of the walls. He maneuvered his way through the group of people huddled around the screen as they listened to you speak, completely captivated by whatever you were saying.

You were at Arlington Cemetery, wearing all black, speaking in front of a large crowd of people. He recognized Steve, Peggy, and the Commandos, as well as some other familiar faces from the 107th Regiment. He even caught a glimpse of his mom and sister in the corner of the screen, looking at you with tears in their eyes as you spoke.

“Bucky is- was one of the most inspiring men I had ever met. He worked tirelessly to ensure that the soldiers he led, even ones he didn’t, were taken care of. That they felt safe and supported. Most of us know how invaluable that is during war. It was so easy to look up to him because he made sure to be by your side whenever he was needed….”

Bucky tried to breathe, he truly did. It was just that there seemed to be no air left in the building. Either that, or his lungs were collapsing from all of the pain filtering through his body.

“He was truly one of the best. A genuine, strong, good man, who will be missed beyond comprehension.”

He bolted out of the building, blindly making his way down the streets to the abandoned apartment he had been hiding in, gasping for air as tears streamed down his face.

Y/n.

His love. His heart.

Gone.

Bucky had promised he would return you, only to abandon you as you lay in a hospital bed, recovering from a bullet wound he hadn’t protected you from.

Perhaps he had been a monster long before Hydra took hold of him.

Unable to face these new demons in his mind, he ran away to Europe, trying to get away from Hydra, from Steve, from anything that might remind him of you.

It was too painful.

Of course, Steve did find him again years later, and after all the shit with Tony and Zemo, he brought Bucky to Wakanda. There, he worked with a small, feisty princess named Shuri whose goal was to finally free his brain from Hydra’s grasp.

It was there that he allowed himself to finally grieve the loss of you.

Not that you were dead. Steve told him that you were in a nursing home with Peggy. That he visited you from time to time, and that he hadn’t told you Bucky was alive. He wanted to wait for Bucky to make that choice to tell you.

But of course he couldn’t face you after all he had put you through. Leaving you with a false promise of returning only to be gone for 70 years, acting as hitman for the worst people to exist.

No, it was better for you to forget about him, to spend the rest of your days happy and healthy, not tied down to his brokenness.

He wanted you to let him go forever, and he needed to do the same.

One night, he sat outside of his small cabin in the middle of an open field and he stared up at the millions of stars above. Your voice rushed into his mind.

“It’s amazing how something so beautiful can be found in such an ugly place.”

He cried until the sun was high in the sky. The first of many instances where the pain of your absence and the life he lost became too much.

Eventually, the memories brought less and less despair. The pain still lingered, but he was able to look back on the moments he shared with the woman he loved with fondness.

He would sometimes chuckle to himself when he remembered a ridiculous thing you said or the times you glared at him for doing something stupid. He would smile at the memory of your laugh, the blush that formed on your cheeks whenever he said something charming, the smile that would spread across your lips as he leaned in to kiss you.

Time passed, and Bucky was finally able to find peace. He was finally able to feel grateful for the short time he had with you.

No amount of time with you was ever going to be enough, anyways. At least now he could be able to hold onto the love he had for you. A part of you to stay with him for whatever time he had left on this earth.

Some of that time was taken away when Thanos arrived.

Five years of it, to be exact.

He wasn’t as bitter about that as he thought he would be. He had already lived longer than most people his age would, been robbed of time by evil forces outside of his control. He was used to shit like this happening. What was five more years?

But that wasn’t the case, was it? It wasn’t just him who had lost those years. Billions of people had as well, and for Bucky, that wasn’t okay.

When he returned, he fought alongside his best friend once more and helped save the world. He managed to see the end of a war, even if it wasn’t the original one he signed up to fight for.

Now that he was no longer dust particles floating in the air, it was time to go back to New York and start a new life. The Wakandans had already extended enough generosity to him. Hell, they saved his life in more ways than they could ever know. He had to do the rest of the work and move on. Move forward.

Meanwhile, Stevie was planning on going back.

Back to Peggy, back to the life he had been robbed of.

Good for him. He deserves this, Bucky thought to himself. Convinced himself, really, trying to lessen the ache of losing his best friend. Again.

Steve had already done so much, he should be allowed to be happy.

Why give up an opportunity like that?

Why shouldn’t Bucky go back as well? To find you and live the life you both dreamt of.

Why would someone like you want to live a life with a murderer? Someone who spent decades doing the worst things imaginable?

You deserved better. He hoped you had found better. A good man to give you the kind of love he was too broken to offer. Someone to take care of you, make you smile, make you laugh. Make you as happy as you made him.

So Bucky stood by Sam’s side as they watched Captain America return to the ‘40s. He gave his best friend one last sad smile before he was gone.

Sam stared at the platform, waiting for Steve to return. Bucky’s eyes were on the ground, not ready to face the fact that no one would be coming back.

“What the hell?”

Sam’s confusion compelled Bucky enough to lift his head up back to the platform.

His heart stopped.

“Who is that?”

He could barely register Sam’s voice. All he could focus on were the tear-filled eyes of a ghost.

But it wasn’t a ghost.

It was you, standing there before him.

Still as beautiful and perfect as the last time he saw you.

You stared back.

You didn’t look away as you pulled your helmet off, mindlessly dropping it to the ground.

You didn’t look away as you walked toward him with slow, tentative steps until you were only a foot apart.

You didn’t look away as your hand reached up, fingertips gently brushing a lock of his hair from his face and behind his ear.

The feel of your touch catapulted his heart back to life, and he swore everyone in the state of New York could hear it beating out of his chest.

Your eyes bore into him, and Bucky could see a million different thoughts and emotions behind them. He suddenly felt the urge to laugh at the familiarity he felt towards you. Even after all this time, after his brain was crushed into nothing and reformed into a fraction of what it had been before, he still remembered the tells of your facial features perfectly.

You were trying to think of just the right thing to say, terrified of scaring him off. Unsure of how he was feeling and not wanting to overstep.

As if anything you said was ever less than perfect to Bucky’s ears.

“Hi,” you finally said. Hearing your voice in real life for the first time in 70 years brought butterflies to his stomach. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel like he was a young Sergeant who had just bumped into a flustered, ridiculously beautiful medic with a soft, round face and captivating eyes.

“Hi,” he breathed out, and he heard your breath hitch at the sound of his voice. “How...what-”

“Call it a romantic gesture? Or absolute insanity? That or, well, you did promise that you would come back to me,” you laughed nervously and he felt tears in his eyes from hearing the angelic sound again after so long, “And I told you that if you didn’t I would hunt you down to the ends of the earth.” You shrugged. “Had I known that time travel would be an option, I would have added that to my threat.”

And just like that, the Sergeant was gone. Bucky looked away, his eyes finding the ground once more and he tucked his left arm behind his back to hide it from you. Shame coursed through his body.

His voice broke as he muttered, “I don’t think the man in front of you was worth all that trouble.”

Moving slowly and as gently as possible, you reached out and pulled his left arm toward you until his metal hand rested in yours.

“Sorry, Bucky,” his name on your lips forced a small sob out of him, “But no one gets to talk about my best Sergeant like that.” His eyes darted back to find a mischievous grin spread across your face.

He shook his head. “Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m not that young, naive Sergeant anymore. The things I’ve done -- the horrible, horrible things -- that man is gone. Whatever is left is just fragments. I’m nothing but a monster who has to live with the mess I created for myself.” He looked back at the platform, nodding toward Bruce. “You shouldn’t have left your life behind. I’m sure Banner can bring you back now that you’ve seen what I’ve become.”

Your brows furrowed, unconvinced. “Steve told me everything, Bucky.” His right eye twitched. “I mean, not everything, because we didn’t have that kind of time. But I know what happened after the Alps. Where you went, what Hydra did to you.”

You stroked the black and gold knuckles of vibranium, then pulled the hand up to your lips to kiss them.

Bucky’s head was spinning.

“I know you’ve changed, and I know you’re not entirely the man I loved all those years ago. Well, you sure look like him, for the most part.” You gingerly ran a finger through his long hair again. There was no fear when you touched him, no hesitance from the idea that he would hurt you, only hesitance from not wanting to hurt him. But even now, after years of being apart, your touch brought the furthest thing from pain. It brought warmth, comfort, peace.

“You may not believe it, Buck, but you’re still the good man I’ve always known you to be. The man I fought a war alongside with, who found a way to fight back against the worst evils imaginable when he was surrounded by it, totally controlled by it. You continued to fight Hydra even when it might have felt like you had lost every piece of yourself, and you won. Because you’re a good person. Always have been, always will be.”

He tried to speak, he truly did. There was just too large of a lump in his throat.

You pulled a hand away, suddenly nervous. “Listen, I know that regardless of what I think, this puts you in a difficult spot. I had the choice to come back to you, with way more information about how you were doing than you did about me. Hell, there’s a chance that you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.” You tightened your lips together to keep them from quivering before speaking again. “If so, I want you to know that that’s okay, Bucky. Just knowing that you’re alive and that you know I’ll never stop loving you no matter what happened is enough for me. I can go back in time and continue on with my life if that’s really what you want.”

Your eyes shone up at him. “But, if there’s even a chance that you want me to stay, I gladly would. To spend whatever time we have to build something together. Maybe not what we originally planned, but something different. Maybe something more beautiful than we could have ever imagined. All I know is that a life without loving you is not a life worth living. So whether it’s just as friends, or more than that. Whatever you want to do, I’m yours. Always have been, always will be.”

It was all too much. He couldn’t comprehend it.

Bucky had spent years trying to heal from the pain of losing you. To accept it and move forward with his life. And now here you were, asking if he wanted you.

It would be selfish to put his decades of baggage on you. Sure, you were the strongest, most loving person he had ever known, but he feared that even this was too much for you to carry.

He couldn’t willingly let you drag all of his shit for the rest of his life. It would be better to send you back, wouldn’t it?

Was that what he wanted?

No, of course not. He wanted you. That had never been a question, and seeing you now before him brought the love he felt crashing back into his soul, filling every square inch of his body. He loved you so much his chest ached.

And you, knowing who he was and what he had done, still loved him. He could try to deny it all he wanted, but he knew you. Your love for him was painted across your face, unapologetic and unyielding.

A life together would be hard. It would be scary. Hell, it might not end up happening no matter how hard you both tried.

But he had to try. He owed you that much. He owed himself that much.

So with that final crumble of resolve, Bucky slowly moved forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. You gasped, body freezing at the unexpected gesture. Then, you sighed into his body, wrapping your arms around his neck.

And for the first time in 80 years, Bucky finally felt like he was home.

++++++++++++

10 YEARS LATER

You sat on the wooden porch swing on the deck, a warm mug of tea cradled in your hands as you looked out at the sunset.

The echoing sounds of birds chirping in the trees and grasshoppers chirping in the grass acted like your own personal symphony, mixing perfectly with the soft waves in the water ahead.

It was your favorite time of day. Different shades of yellows, oranges, pinks, and purples reflected off the water of the lake, resulting in a picturesque landscape that no artist could adequately portray on paper.

You allowed yourself to fall into a trance, completely consumed by your surroundings, swinging back and forth on the bench.

It wasn’t until a lovelier sound emerged from inside the house that you were pulled back into the moment.

A lone violin, playing the opening notes to your favorite song.

Then, a metal hand was extended out in front of you. You smiled before looking up to find eyes the most beautiful shade of blue gazing into yours.

“May I have this dance, ma’am?”

“I would be delighted, Sergeant.”

You placed your hand in Bucky’s and he lifted you up to stand, taking the mug from your grasp and placing it on the nearby table. Then, his arms were around you, and your head gravitated to his chest as Frank Sinatra’s voice filled the space.

I’ll be loving you, always.

The two of you swayed from side to side in comfortable silence, allowing yourselves the sweetest sense of peace that could only be found within each other’s embrace.

With a love that’s true, always.

Bucky leaned back, lifting up your chin with his finger and smiled.

“You’re looking rather lovely today, Mrs. Barnes.”

You chuckled, scrunching your nose at him. He scrunched his back. “And you look dashing as always, Mr. Barnes.

He took hold of your left hand, kissing the diamond ring on your finger. Then, as he always did, immediately lifted your right hand, kissing the braided piece of wire on the other finger.

One would think that after years of kisses, of embraces, of ridiculously charming smiles, you would have learned how to quell the butterflies in your stomach.

But no, they were a force that could never be stopped. Not that you ever actively tried to send them away. They had been your constant companions for so long, ever since a handsome young Sergeant smiled at you so long ago, serving as a reminder that even after all that you endured, you could still feel them just as strongly as you did back then.

Bucky pushed you away, raising your arm in the air as he spun you around, then guided your body back against his.

As he moved your hands to wrap around his neck, Bucky leaned forward until his lips met yours. The two of you sighed in unison, allowing the sensation to fully pull you under.

A perfect moment, one of many shared over the last ten years.

Those years had been far from easy, but every moment with Bucky-- good and bad -- was worth it.

Suddenly, there was wailing.

“MOM! DAD! STEVIE STOLE MY MONKEY!” Jane’s voice pulled the two of you apart, turning your heads up to the second floor where you could hear her footsteps stomping around.

“LIAR! I DON’T KNOW WHERE HER STUPID MONKEY IS!” Steve bellowed in response.

You turned your head back to Bucky and met his eyes just in time for the two of you to share a soft chuckle.

Bucky looked down at your stomach, placing a hand on it as he whispered, “What are the chances this kiddo is also going to be a troublemaker?”

Your hand rested over his, stroking your thumb over calloused knuckles. “Well, given the reputation of his uncle, his dad, and….well, his mom, Jonny is definitely going to be trouble.”

He nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Neither would I.”

Blue eyes met yours once more, filled with nothing but pure affection. “I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

“MOOOOOOM! DAAAAAD!” A crash echoed upstairs.

Bucky sighed. “Alright, let’s put an end to this war.”

“Hopefully no one needs a medic.”

He laughed. “If they do, I think I know someone we can call.” He pulled you by the hand as you both walked inside, Frank continuing to sing softly in the midst of whatever chaos you were about to face.

Not for just an hour,

“Oh really?” You asked sarcastically.

Not for just a day,

He turned to wink at you. “Yeah, best one in the whole damn world. Gorgeous as hell, too. I bet she might even offer a friends and family discount.”

Not for just a year,

You giggled. “Sounds like quite a woman.”

But always.

He paused at the foot of the stairs, leaning forward for another kiss.

“She’s my whole heart.”

++++++++++

The End

I don't have the words yet. Just, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I hope you enjoy this ending as much as I do. <3

Tags: @blackwidownat2814 @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused @theokatz @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @carrotfantasimp @otbshan @toothhurtyam @itsdawnashlie @lostinspace33 @w0nderw0man91 @galaxy-dust @justsomeficsilike @magicalsimp @bunnymother93 @sometimesicanwright @multidreamerlovers @ceo-of-daichi @eclipses-and-moondust @thecrandle @alpine-loves-bucky

[toomanyrobins2]

Those Four Words Pt. 1

Summary: an escalating fight between Jason and his girlfriend leads to a tense two weeks in Wayne Manor

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: language, mentions of sex and excessive drinking, mentions of character death

masterlist // next part

Jason Todd was in a terrible mood, having just got into an argument with Bruce. He decided to go up to his girlfriend’s studio to get away. She had been hard at work the past couple of days and he was getting needy. He came up behind her on the floor and pulled her into his lap. She tried to wiggle out of his arms. “Jay, I'm trying to do something right now.

He tried to snuggle closer to his girlfriend, “I deserve some of your time too.

“Deserve? You’re especially demanding today. What did you do?” Jason scoffed and pulled away. “What has crawled up your ass?”

“You did.”

She managed to escape and turned to look at her boyfriend, “I did? Huh, I think I would’ve remembered such a disgusting journey into your body.

“Dammit, Y/N! Enough with the sarcasm! You know what I’m saying.”

She sighed at Jason’s attitude, “I don’t understand what you’re doing right now, but you are starting a fight just for the sake of an argument. I’m sorry, but I can’t give you what you want right now.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Jason was standing over his girlfriend, his whole body tense, “From any of you.”

“Why are you being like this? What happened?”

“What? You thought the minute we started dating all of our problems would magically disappear? Are you really that naive?”

Y/N put her brushes down and stood. She tried to walk closer, but he matched each step, moving away from her. “Jason, where the hell is this coming from? I thought we had got past this. Even you and Bruce are in a better place.”

“You think I'll ever forget you abandoned me. You all did!”

“Abandon you! What have you been smoking? We thought you died!”

“You replaced me!”

Now, Y/N was angry too and it was rare that anyone saw her this way. She was deadly calm, but the fire was roaring in her eyes, “I did not replace you.”

“That’s right, you were too busy whoring yourself around Gotham to even think about me.”

“That is not fair and you know it. I mourned you. We all mourned your arrogant ass. I never stopped missing you.”

“I saw the articles, Y/N! Don’t pretend you were mourning me. You were too busy whoring yourself around Gotham.”

Her mind went back to three years ago. Jason had died in an explosion set up by the Joker. She was sixteen and her best friend had died, and she hadn’t handled it well. What started as a way to get out of the house with friends, had led to this wild, secret life. Y/N had snuck out at night and used Bruce’s name to get into clubs. She drank anything she could get her hands on and had gone home with multiple men, trying to forget her pain. Once, Bruce had found out, her world had imploded. He sent her away and finally got her the help she should have received when her parents had passed. The only reason Y/N had moved back to the manor was that Jason had been found. She couldn’t believe that he was trying to use her moments of weakness against her, “How dare you throw that back on me. I was just trying to numb the pain. It wasn’t like I was celebrating the fact that you were gone.”

“Yeah, it really looked like you missed me.”

“God Dammit, Jay!” she stamped her foot, knowing it was childish, “If you would just listen to me!”

“Oh fuck off, Y/N! If I had known I was ever going to be stuck with you and your nagging, I wouldn’t have come back.”

“I wish you hadn’t!” The minute the words left Y/N’s mouth, she gasped and slapped her hands over her mouth. Jason’s emotionless mask slammed into place, and suddenly he was as blank as the day Bruce had found him. He turned to walk out and Y/N chased after him, “Jay, wait! I’m sorry!” He jumped onto his motorcycle and was out the door before she could stop him. She slammed her fist into the wall and cursed in frustration and pain. No one would see either of them for the rest of the day. Y/N stayed in her studio, wondering how they got to the point of shouting such hurtful things at each other.

The next day, they had both shown up for Friday night dinner, as was expected of them. Neither spoke, and the tension was too thick to be cut with a knife. Y/N had tried to pull him aside and apologize after dinner, but he had shot her with a cutting glare and stalked away. The other could tell that something had happened, but no one had the details. Tim wandered into the library after patrol that night, to find her in a chair tucked into the corner. “What are you doing here (Y/N/N)? Isn’t it a movie night with Todd?” He noted the tear tracks down her face but knew she hated showing weakness, so he said nothing about them.

“I wasn’t feeling up to it, so I canceled. I think I’ll head to bed now. Night, Timmy.” Y/N went to her room and cried herself to sleep, the guilt overwhelming her as she played the argument over in her head. If only she had just taken a break, maybe the whole situation could have been avoided. She woke up multiple times in the night, crying out Jason’s name after seeing him and the Joker over and over again. Finally, around 3 in the morning, she gave up on sleep and went to the kitchen to pour herself coffee. She decided to keep busy and started making breakfast for the family.

Alfred was the first to appear in the morning, as usual. Y/N tried to pretend that everything was normal, but nothing could be hidden from the family’s butler. He noted the dark circles under her eyes and the tremors in her hands from over-caffeination. The boys slowly started to emerge, and Alfred started to bring out all the food she had made. She made two plates out of habit and headed for the dining room. Y/N started to hand Jason his breakfast as she had every morning for a year, but suddenly she remembered and pulled her hand away. Jason didn’t even bother to look at her, and her heart clenched. She placed the plate on the table and walked back into the kitchen. “Sorry, Alfred, I’m not hungry. I think I’ll go paint.” She placed the plate she had made for herself on the counter and left.

Y/N’s studio had been a safe space since she had first moved into the manor. She had hidden away when she first arrived at Wayne Manor, unused to such an active family. Bruce had called workers to the manor and redid the room when she had told him she liked art. Now, after years of work, canvasses filled the room on all sides. Some paintings, others photos, she had accumulated in the three years. They hung on the walls and were laid across the floor. She flooded the room with Swan Lake, her sad music, and started to mix her colors. The music she played had become an easy way for the others to discern her moods since she hadn’t spoken to anyone except Fallon, Bruce’s wife, when she first came. Bruce and Dick had installed a speaker system in her studio to drown out the noise when she was overwhelmed, and everyone in the Manor could hear it if she turned it on loud enough. When the first notes hit their ears, all eyes in the dining room turned to Jason. He refused to look up and make eye contact, instead, he stared at the breakfast that had been abandoned on the table. Once everyone had averted their gaze, he pushed away from the table and disappeared.

This led to one of the most uncomfortable weeks in the Manor ever. Y/N barely left her studio and no one saw Jason for three days before he returned. When he did, he started to act as if nothing had happened. The music had eventually stopped playing altogether, so they had no idea what kind of mood she was in. Finally, Damian was the one to gather everyone else together, “Y/N/N has not come out of her studio in a week. Since Buckethead has just decided to pretend nothing has happened. We need to fix this.”

Bruce spoke up first, “Jason and Y/N are both adults. They are both being immature, and it will eventually work itself out.

“How can we fix this when we don’t even know what happened?” Tim looked up from his laptop, “I’ve been checking in on Y/N on the cameras. All she does is paint, and the most she’s slept in days is when she falls asleep accidentally. That never lasts long, and she cries. A lot.”

“Why did Fallon have to leave! We need to fix this, or the family vacation is going to be the worst!” Dick collapsed on the couch. Fallon had finally convinced Bruce that the family needed a vacation, but two weeks before they were supposed to leave, her sister had had a baby. She decided to go help her out and just meet them at the resort. They now had a week left, and it was not looking good. No one wanted to bother their mother since she very rarely took time for herself and was enjoying time with her family. They decided Alfred would be the one to try and convince Y/N to leave the studio at least and eat something.

He appeared in the doorway and watched silently as Y/N worked on a large canvas. He walked over and saw that it was a portrait of the family. “This is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” her voice was hoarse from disuse.

“What is the plan for this one?” Alfred sat down next to her on the floor.

“Everyone hates photos, but Fallon wanted a family portrait for the sitting room. Since no one can sit still long enough I decided to paint one and give it to her for her birthday,” she slowly sucked in a breath, “Plus they only have the old one, and J--some people-- are missing from it.” Tears started to well up again in her eyes. Alfred wrapped an arm around Y/N and just sat with her for a moment.

“I’ve kicked the boys out of the kitchen. Do you think you could come down and eat something? For me?” She only nodded and they both stood. Y/N sat on a stool and silently ate the soup Alfred had laid out for her. She barely tasted anything, and she was starting to feel dizzy. Her vision started to blur, and the next thing she knew, she was waking up on the floor and had five heads floating above her.

“Hi, guys. Thought the floor looked lonely.” She tried to sit up but was cut off.

“That is it,” Bruce spoke firmly, “You are going to bed, and you are sleeping. I thought you were mature enough to deal with this but I see I was wrong.” He picked Y/N up and noticed she had lost weight. He carried her up the stairs and before he had reached her bedroom, she was already asleep again. Bruce turned to the boys. “At least one of you is staying in here with her and making sure she sleeps.”

Tim volunteered for the first shift and settled into her desk with his laptop. Y/N had barely been asleep an hour before she woke up from a nightmare of Jason dying. She shot up and shouted out his name, before bursting into tears. Tim -- being the awkward person he is -- was ill-prepared to deal with the crying Y/N. The only solution he could think of was to climb into bed with her and pull up a movie. She slowly fell asleep again and clung to Tim like a starfish. When Dick came to relieve Tim and saw that he was unable to leave, he climbed into bed with the duo. Anytime Y/N would start to become distressed, they would calm her down. Eventually, Damian and Titus joined the cuddle pile, the former somewhat reluctantly, grumbling about how he was only doing this for Y/N. Little did the Bat-Family know, Alfred had called Fallon and told her about the situation and she had rushed home.

[wayward-dreamer]

Life’s Lessons - Good Enough

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word count: 6,372

Summary: Y/N and Dean are planning their wedding, but a reminder from the past gives him doubts about his relationship and whether he’ll ever actually be good enough for her.

Warnings: Swearing, Dean’s past with Lisa comes back to haunt him, ANGST, Tears, Dean’s self deprecation rears its ugly head, Making up, Fluff.

Music: Love Of My Life - Queen (Dean bar scene)

Life’s Lessons Spotify Playlist

A/N: The next time stamp is here! Stay tuned for another announcement soon about the saga! Hope you all like the time stamp! As always, happy reading and enjoy! :)

Life’s Lessons Saga Masterlist

Divider by @firefly-graphics​​​.

Y/N pressed the ‘end’ button on her phone, throwing it beside her on the couch with a loud groan of frustration.

Looking down at the coffee table in front of her, she shook her head at the sudden overwhelming feeling. The whole surface of the table was covered in bridal magazines, brochures, printouts of venues, her laptop with multiple tabs open, and everything else that came with planning a wedding. She kept hitting brick walls with every place she was looking at being unavailable for the date that she and Dean had decided on. The only thing she had managed to do was finalize the guest list, which was at 80 people. It wasn’t a big number, but knowing she would have to do the invitations as soon as a venue was decided, it was a lot of people. Luckily, it was everyone she or Dean cared about, without having to make sacrifices for their special day.

Y/N heard the key in the door and Dean’s boots on the wooden floors as he walked through the house. He smiled when he saw her, walking over quickly and leaning down, kissing her softly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he muttered against her lips, kissing her again.

“Hey,” she sighed, a relief washing over her now that he was home. “How was work?”

He huffed out a breath as he leaned back against the couch. “Busy. Having the new guy on today didn’t help. I felt like how you must feel with the kids in class, keeping an eye on him most of the time.”

“He’ll get better soon enough, don’t worry,” she reassured him, leaning over and kissing his cheek.

Dean glanced over the coffee table, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. “That looks like a lot. You okay? Anything I can help with? Not that I know a damn thing about weddings.”

He smirked with a small laugh, kissing her cheek. Y/N smiled and shook her head, looking down at the table and sighing heavily.

“I keep hitting dead ends with venues, that’s all,” she stated, shrugging.

“Hey.” Getting her attention, he cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. “Everything’s gonna work out. We’ll find something and it’s going to be amazing. I know it.”

She nodded, even though she didn’t really feel better despite his comforting words. “I guess I’m just worried about a lot of this.”

“You know whatever you need from me, I’m here, right? Say the word and I’ll do it,” he told her, his hands leaving her face and taking hers.

“I know,” she whispered, smiling softly at him.

“Don’t worry about anything, sweetheart,” he said, smiling at her. “We got this, okay?”

“I know, I just…” she stopped herself, unsure of how to express herself.

“Something’s wrong,” Dean frowned, sensing something wasn’t right. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” she reassured him, smiling softly. “But… I just need to know you want all of this. I know you keep saying you want me to have the wedding I want, but I want us both to have that, Dean. I want what you want too.”

“Don’t go thinking I don’t want all of this. I wanna do this for you. For us.” he said, smiling reassuringly. “I do. I promise you, I do, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” She nodded, her worried expression morphing into a soft smile.

“Okay, good. Now, take a break from all this stuff and let’s make dinner. Sound good?” he asked, smirking.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling wide as she leaned in and kissed him.

As they got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen to start cooking, Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as she felt a pressure lift off her. Dean always had a way of doing that. It was incredibly cute to see Dean so excited, even if he didn’t understand what she was saying when she mentioned something to do with the wedding, but he secretly loved getting involved.

They couldn’t wait to get to the big day and start the next part of their journey together.

The doorbell rang, alerting Y/N that her guests for the evening had arrived. It was a Saturday, and unfortunately Dean had to go into work because of some problem with one of the cars, so Y/N was left to do more of the wedding planning herself. Dean felt guilty as he left, but she had assured him that it was more than okay.

She walked to the door and opened it, smiling wide as she saw Mary and John on the other side. They all hugged each other, before Y/N led her into the house.

“So, how are things going?” Mary asked, as they walked into the kitchen where Y/N had been making dinner.

“Things are… stressful,” Y/N replied, huffing a small laugh. “Though I managed to book a venue yesterday, and that’s taken a lot of pressure off. I was going to tell Dean first, but do you guys wanna know?”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Mary exclaimed. “Yes, absolutely!”

Y/N opened her laptop that was kept to the side on the kitchen bench, bringing up the photos of the outdoor venue. “Dean was telling me once that you guys used to drive up here a lot when he and Sam were kids, and I thought I’d try it out. The land is owned by the ranch close by that’s a wedding venue and I asked if we could use this space. They said they had an opening for our date, so I booked it straight away.”

She showed them the photos of a beautiful location, surrounded by trees and a lake. It was perfect for the ceremony, and the clearing nearby would be perfect for the reception.

“Y/N, this is…” John shook his head, speechless as he looked over the photos. “God, the boys used to love going there.”

“Y/N, it’s stunning! Oh, it’s going to a beautiful wedding,” Mary told her, her smile radiant as put her arm around Y/N and brought her close.

“Do you think Dean will like it?” Y/N asked, nervously.

“He definitely will. We used to take the boys fishing there. They never caught a damn thing, but they always loved going,” John replied, reassuringly.

“Okay, good.” Y/N nodded as she closed her laptop. “Because we initially thought about having it here, we don’t have room for 80 people.”

“Well, this is perfect,” Mary said, smiling.

“It is. I can’t wait to show Dean,” Y/N smiled, before standing up and walking into the kitchen to finish preparing dinner.

“Anything I can help with?” Mary asked, leaning against the kitchen island.

“Nope, almost done,” Y/N replied, smiling over at her. “John, there’s beer in the fridge. Mary, wine?”

“I’ll take care of that,” John insisted, taking a beer out before finding the wine Mary liked on the small rack.

In the garage, Dean pulled the Impala up and cut the engine, turning off the car. He sighed tiredly as he leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. It had been a long day, and the last thing he had wanted was to go into work on a Saturday, but being the boss, he was needed. He hated that he couldn’t stay home and help Y/N out with whatever she needed and enjoy time with her, but at least he was back in time to have dinner with her and his parents.

Getting out of the Impala, he locked it and walked around the back of the car to the other side. He tried to slide past his work bench, but rammed right into it, cursing as the edge dug into him, sending a few tools flying to the floor.

“Fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes.

He blinked a few times, crouching down and picking up the screwdrivers that fell on the floor. As he did, something that had fallen behind the bench caught his eye. He reached behind it, taking out the notebook that had gotten stuck. Opening it, he flipped through the pages, seeing old calculations and notes of his, knowing that they weren't of use now. Suddenly, a page fell out, falling at his feet, with unfamiliar writing on it.

“What…” he mumbled to himself as he held it up, reading over the page properly.

His face fell as he read over the words that were no doubt written by Lisa, recognizing her handwriting now that he could see it properly. She must have used this from his office in their house when she couldn’t find anything else.

Stubborn. Too close to his family. Doesn’t earn enough. Just a mechanic.

It was a pros and cons list. She had made reasons for whether she should stay with him or not. The only thing written on the pros list was that he was a good father figure to Ben. However, the cons outweighed everything as he read over them again. He didn’t earn enough. His job wasn’t good enough. And if that was true then that meant he wasn’t good enough. He knew he shouldn’t care what it said considering he was with Y/N now, and they were engaged, with his relationship with Lisa practically ancient history by now. Yet he couldn’t stop reading over her words.

Crushing the paper into a ball and shoving into his pocket, he shut the notebook, tossing it in the paper basket kept next to the bench. He walked over to the door that led into the house, closing it behind him and walked down the hallway, hearing Y/N’s infectious laugh coming from the living room.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, seeing him enter the room.

“Hey,” he said, walking over to her, kissing her softly as he leaned down. He went over to his parents and hugged them before sitting down next to her.

“How was work?” she asked, smiling at him.

“Tiring,” he replied, huffing slightly, but offered her a smile. “But good. Glad to be home though.”

“Well, I was telling your parents, but I can tell you now,” she started, sharing a smile with John and Mary before she turned back to him. “I found a venue for the wedding.”

“That’s great, sweetheart,” he said, smiling softly as he kissed her again.

Y/N frowned slightly as he pulled away, sensing something wasn’t right with him, but she let it go for now. She hoped that he was just tired from work and that was it.

“Do you want to hear about it?” she asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, too quickly. “Actually, I’m gonna wash up and why don’t you tell me over dinner.”

“Sure,” she agreed, nodding. “Well, food’s ready. We were just waiting on you.”

“Okay,” he muttered, standing up and walking out of the room.

“Does he seem a little off to you?” John questioned, frowning as he looked between Mary and Y/N.

“Something must’ve happened at work,” Y/N sighed, worriedly.

“Well, let’s just hope it’s nothing too serious,” Mary added, her expression matching Y/N’s.

Dean returned after freshening up, just as Y/N, Mary and John walked over to the dining table. They all sat down, each of them taking turns to put food on their plate. They ate in silence, worried eyes glancing between each other and discreetly looking at Dean as he ate. Sensing they needed a distraction first, John and Mary exchanged looks, before she cleared her throat.

“So, we actually have something for both of you,” Mary announced, looking at John, giving him a firm nod.

The elder Winchester took out a small, folded piece of paper from his shirt pocket, and slid it across the wooden table to his son. Dean frowned curiously and Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed, as she looked over Dean’s shoulder. He opened it, both of their eyes widening as they saw what it was. He opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to speak.

“That’s from us, and after we spoke to your mom and dad, we decided to split things between us, so there’s should be coming to you soon,” Mary told Y/N, smiling.

“Mary…” Y/N trailed off, shaking her head as she was still in shock. “We can’t accept this cheque-”

“Guys, this is insane,” Dean finally said, frowning as he looked up at his parents.

“I thought you’d say that, but-” Mary started but Dean cut her off.

“We’re not taking it, mom,” he interrupted, his frustration getting the better of him.

“Dean,” Mary sighed, thinking about how to make him understand. “We’ve been sitting on this money since before you started renovating this place. We tried to hint then too, but you didn’t take it, wanting to do everything yourself. Had you never had this place we would’ve given it to you on your wedding day to put towards a house, just like we did with Sam and Eileen. Considering you have this place now, the least we can do is help with the wedding.”

“You’re really sure about this?” Y/N asked, completely unsure if this was a good idea. Clearly Dean wasn’t accepting this.

“Absolutely,” Mary replied, smiling. “And don’t even think about paying it back, it’s for both of you to use, however you want. Put it towards the wedding, if there’s anything left, put it towards the honeymoon, or savings… whatever you want.”

Dean shook his head, the frown still evident on his face. “So what? This is a pity offer?”

“No,” Mary gasped, eyes wide with shock. “Of course not, Dean. How could you think we would do that?”

He scoffed, turning to glare at Y/N. “I don’t make enough money, right? That’s what this is. You asked them for money.”

Y/N looked at him, unable to get over her shock at the way he was reacting. “What? No. No! Dean, how can you think that?”

Dean chuckled bitterly. He looked down at his food, suddenly losing his appetite. He quickly stood up, pushing up his sleeves as he pushed his chair out. Y/N felt her heart banging repeatedly against her ribcage, as she watched him get up.

“We’re not taking this. No fucking way,” he hissed, pushing the cheque back across the surface.

“Dean,” John’s voice bellowed around the room, staring up at his son with a stern expression.

“Dean, we just wanted to contribute, that’s all, honey,” Mary reasoned, trying to calm the situation. “If this is how you feel, then it’s put to bed. Let’s just enjoy dinner.”

“Yeah, damn right that’s how I feel,” he snapped, as he turned to face her.

“I’m sor-” Mary started but he cut her off again, turning to Y/N.

“Do you think I can’t do this for us?” he asked, his voice eerily calm but the shakiness gave away how upset he was, as he faced Y/N.

Her eyes narrowed in upset as she stood up too, looking at him. “Of course I think you can do this, Dean. How could you even question that?”

“Because it’s exactly what it looks like, Y/N!” he yelled. He scoffed and shook his head, scrubbing a hand down his face. “What I do isn’t good enough. I’m not good enough.”

She visibly flinched; her eyes widened as she looked at him. She had never seen him this upset. She felt tears brim her bottom lids, threatening to fall. John and Mary watched on in horror, unable to understand what was going on with their son.

“What?” she scoffed, shaking her head. “How could you possibly think that?”

“Because it’s true,” he muttered, looking away from her, his jaw clenching tight. “And if you haven’t already, you’ll realize it one day.”

“Dean,” she breathed, a tear rolling down her face as she saw how dejected he looked.

“That’s not true.”

“If you don’t want this anymore, Y/N, there were easier ways to tell me,” he spat, turning away from her and storming off.

“Dean, stop! What’s gotten into you?” she yelled, following behind him.

“I can’t fucking do this right now,” he scoffed.

Mary and John were hot on their heels too as they stopped in the entrance, watching Dean pick up his keys and make his way to the door.

“Dean, where are you going?” Y/N asked, choking as a wave of sadness washed over her.

“I can’t be here,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I need to think.”

“Think about what?” Her voice was cracking, the tears finally falling down her face. Everything was falling apart in the span of a few minutes, and she had no idea why. Why was he acting like this?

“I don’t know, Y/N, okay?” he snapped, turning to pin her with a scowl. “I just… I gotta get outta here.” Gesturing around him, he turned to open the door.

His mind was cloudy with all the doubts he was having at that moment. He needed a drink and some time to cool off. He walked through the threshold, not looking back at Y/N.

“Dean, wait-” she started but the door slamming as he left, cut her off.

Y/N felt knots in her stomach, tightening and moving into her chest. She tried to breathe normally but started to feel as if her throat was closing off, cutting off her air supply. Tears stung her eyes as they continued to flow down her face. She began hyperventilating, her hands cupping over her mouth as she began to cry. Her body shook with the force of her sobs. Her legs felt like jelly, like any minute she would collapse and wouldn’t be able to get up again.

“Oh, honey,” Mary whispered, as she wrapped her arms around Y/N tightly.

“I don’t… k-know what I did to-to make him think-” she stuttered, stopping as she sobbed.

“You didn’t do anything, sweetie. I just… There's something wrong. I didn’t think he would act like this. At most, he would be annoyed and then eventually give in. But this?” Mary tried to figure out what was going on, but shook her head as she couldn’t think of what could be wrong with her son.

“I’ll go talk to him,” John offered.

“No, he just needs space to process whatever’s going on in his head,” Y/N sniffled, pulling away from Mary as she looked between them. “You can head home if you want to. I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” John stated, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, and hugging her as she was between him and Mary. “Everything’s gonna be okay, don’t you worry.”

The silence made her mind wander off into irrational directions. Had she done something to make Dean this upset? Had she said anything to make him think he wasn’t good enough? She loved him so much, and she wanted nothing more than to be his wife, but if she had really made him feel that way, then she was the one who wasn’t good enough for him.

She managed to convince John and Mary that she was fine enough for them to leave, insisting they take some food home with them. They said their goodbyes, and Y/N headed upstairs, completely exhausted after the whirlwind evening. As she got changed in the walk-in closet, she felt more tears sting her eyes. They rolled down her face, but she didn’t make a move to wipe them away as she changed.

She just wanted Dean to come home so that they could talk and forget about what just happened.

Dean drove around town for a while, the words he said to Y/N plaguing his mind. He was just so angry after finding that list from Lisa, it just came out in the worst way possible. He reached the regular bar that he would go to with the guys, needing at least one drink to calm himself down.

Sitting down at the bar, he ordered a whiskey double, neat, and gulped the first one down in one shot. Asking for another, he nursed it as he thought about everything that had happened in the past half hour. His anger had dissolved quickly and had morphed into fear. Fear at what he would or wouldn’t find when he got home. As a Queen song played in the background from the jukebox, he quickly realized how much it was mirroring the situation they had found themselves in.

Love of my life, you’ve hurt me

You’ve broken my heart, and now you leave me

Love of my life, can’t you see?

Bring it back, bring it back

Don’t take it away from me

Because you don’t know

What it means to me

He realized how he had overreacted, that his parents, just being the people that they are, would just give the cheque to them. He shouldn’t have taken his anger out on them and Y/N. Hell, she didn’t even know what he was upset about. That considered, he knew that he wasn’t good enough for her, especially now. Taking out his phone, he looked at the screen and saw a few missed calls from her and a few texts. Gulping the lump in his throat, he opened the messages and felt his heart sink into his stomach as he read over them. There were three, and as he read the words over again, he felt tears prick his eyes.

She had nothing to be sorry for. He was the asshole that let things blow out of proportion, all because he let one stupid note get to him. Determined to make it home and fix everything, Dean paid for his drink and left the bar.

He hoped like hell that he hadn’t ruined his whole future in one evening.

Dean entered through the door from the garage. Not a single light was on as he walked further in, seeing the kitchen, dining and living area completely dark. Taking a deep breath, he turned towards the stairs and began the climb to the second floor, knowing he had to face whatever came next, even if he was fearing it so much that his stomach was in knots.

He walked towards their bedroom and stood at the threshold, his heart breaking at what he saw. Only one of the bedside lamps was on, providing the only light in the room. Y/N was lying on the bed, her back to the door, her knees drawn up as she laid in the foetal position, her shoulders shaking. She was sobbing quietly, the sounds low but somehow so loud in the quiet room. With every cry, a piece of his heart felt like it was shattering into smaller shards.

He moved slowly towards the bed, sitting down on the edge, watching as her head slowly turned. Her eyes were red and puffy, wet from the tears she had shed. She looked at him, sitting up slowly, their eyes meeting. Suddenly, she launched herself into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, crying into the crook of his neck. He felt tears prick his eyes, letting a few escape as he felt his sadness wash over him.

“Y/N,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never should’ve said the things that I did, I shouldn’t have reacted that way.”

“I was so scared,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, please, just tell me.”

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, pulling her away and cupping her face, looking her deep in the eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry.”

“How could you ever doubt how I feel about you?” she asked, her voice croaky from how much she had cried. “How could you ever think you’re not good enough for me? What did I do to make you think that?”

“You didn’t do anything, sweetheart. I promise. This was… this was all me and my crap,” he said, shaking his head.

“What did I do to make you doubt me?” she cried, fresh tears making tracks down her face.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he reassured her, frantically moving towards her, grasping her shoulders. “You didn’t do anything, okay? This… this is the reason I overreacted.”

She frowned as he handed her the paper, but opened the folded page and read over the words written on there. She was confused, knowing she didn’t write this, her eyebrows lifting in realization as she read over the “pros” column.

“I’ll kill her,” she growled, looking up at him with a ferocity in her eyes. “I’ll… God, I wanna hurt her!”

Y/N stood up from the bed and paced the floor, her whole body shaking with how angry she was at that moment. She couldn’t believe that something like this could come between them, showing that Lisa still had a grip on Dean’s mind.

“She doesn’t get to do this to you anymore, Dean!” she yelled, holding up the piece of paper. “She doesn’t get to ruin our future!”

He scoffed a chuckle, shaking her head. “I nearly let her.”

“So, don’t,” Y/N said, walking up to him. She cupped his face in her hands, making him look up at her as he sat on the bed. “You are good enough for me. Every part of you. I love you for exactly who you are, and if I have to spend the rest of our lives together trying to convince you that you’re my one, my everything, that there’s not a doubt in my mind that you’re so right for me, then I’ll do it.”

Wrapping her arms around him, his forehead rested against her chest as she laid her cheek on his head. She held him tightly, neither of them wanting to move away from the other.

“I’m sorry, I’m an idiot,” he muttered, his hands on her hips, feeling the material of his black t-shirt she was wearing against his skin. “I just saw that cheque, and I thought about that list, and I just overreacted.”

“No, you’re not,” she stated, kissing the top of his head. “You were upset.”

“That’s no excuse,” he whispered, hating himself for taking it out on her. “You didn’t deserve that. I uh… I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to end this-”

“Dean, stop,” she choked out, pressing her forehead to his, combing her hand through his hair.

He shook his head, lifting it to look into her eyes. “I’ve been… I’ve been thinking about this even before finding that list. I’m always scared I’m gonna say or do something to give you a reason to leave me. If that happened… I know I wouldn’t survive it.”

Y/N frustratedly wiped her tears away, looking around the room for her sweats. Finding them, she roughly pulled them on and slipped on her sneakers, putting on a light shirt over the black t-shirt she was wearing. Dean watched her; confusion riddled his face as she moved around the room.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice wavering as his mind started to make up horrific scenarios.

“Come with me,” she said, firmly, a determined look on her face as she held her hand out.

“Where are we-” he started but she cut him off, grabbing his arm and pulling him away from the bed.

“Shut up,” she muttered, scowling as she dragged him behind her, down the stairs and out of the house, just as she picked up her keys from the table at the entrance.

Knowing he couldn’t argue when she looked so distressed, he followed behind her as they made their way to her car.

“Get in,” she demanded, harshly.

He was shaking, wondering what the hell had come over her suddenly but again did as he was told without saying anything that would possibly make her angrier than he already had. He couldn’t tell what he had done, but she was upset with him.

Dean looked on in silence as Y/N backed out and turned the car, the tires screeching as she sped off down the road. He gulped as she drove, his mind trying to talk itself out of thinking she was possibly going to kill him and dump his body somewhere. However, he also found her anger strangely arousing. They drove ten minutes before he recognized that she wasn’t going to do that, and that she had turned down a very familiar street. They drove past several houses before she stopped, pulling the car up to the curb and cutting the engine.

“Get out,” she ordered, leaving the keys in the ignition and opening the driver’s side door, slamming it shut as she stood on the road.

He got out, closing the passenger door and following behind her, looking around the dark street and quickly realizing they were standing in front of her previous rental house, just across from his and Lisa’s, all that time ago. She pulled at his jacket and he stumbled, straightening when she pulled him to stand in a specific spot next to the curb. She looked up at him, standing directly in front of him as the deep glare, her eyes riddled with sadness, was still on her face.

“Do you remember what happened here?” she asked, her eyes welling with unshed tears.

Frowning, he shook his head as he was unable to think straight, his mind clouded by the sudden change in her demeanour. “Y/N, I-”

“Do you remember what happened here, Dean?” she repeated, her voice cracking slightly as she raised it.

He sighed, glancing between the two houses, giving her a curt nod. “Of course I do.”

“Tell me,” she ordered, not breaking her eye contact with him, the scowl still present.

“It’s…” he cleared his throat, pushing down the lump in his throat as he looked at her. “It’s where I helped you with your stuff. It’s… it’s where we met.”

“Yeah,” she whispered, a tear rolling down her face as she nodded slowly. “And it’s also where my life changed forever. Even if I didn’t know it at the time.”

“Y/N,” he breathed, trying to reach for her hand but she pulled away, making his heart sink. She had never done that. Never.

“Do you remember what was happening in that house?” she asked, the tears flowing freely down her face as she looked across the street.

He looked over, breathing heavily, his breath shaky as he exhaled but said nothing. He remembered all too well.

“You thought you were happy. You thought everything was fine… but you were losing yourself because of-” she choked, shaking her head, overwhelmed as she thought about those early days and her first impressions of his relationship with Lisa. “Because of her, and you didn’t even know it.”

He was silent, unable to say anything or even try to deny it, because he knew it was true. Turning his head to Y/N, he saw her looking up at him, the glare finally disappearing, her eyes holding a determined look despite the tears.

“And now, you could lose yourself because of her again if you don’t stop yourself from thinking that she's right,” she stated, stepping closer to him. “She was never right and she never will be. She didn’t know you like I do. She didn’t love you like I do. She’s gone from our lives… so don’t bring her back into it by going back into the shell she put you in.”

His jaw clenched as he shut his eyes, squeezing them tight as a tear slipped down his right cheek. Lifting her hand, she cupped his cheek and brushed it away with her thumb, stroking his jaw. She pushed up on her tiptoes, capturing his plump lips between hers, kissing him hard and desperately. She needed him to see there was nothing there to leave him over.

Pulling away from the kiss but keeping close, she looked at him as her thumbs stroked along his cheeks. “You’ll never give me a reason to leave you. Not now, not ever.”

“You got a lot of confidence in me, sweetheart,” he muttered, a slight scoff in his tone.

She smiled softly, knowing that if he couldn’t see it himself, she’d spend forever showing him he was worth more than he gave himself credit for.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I do.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Don’t be,” she whispered back, her eyes closing, content to be close to him again. “We’re going to be okay.”

“You think so?” he asked, his voice laced with hope, as he lifted his head to look at her properly.

“I know so,” she replied, a soft smile on her face. “You’re not getting rid of me any time soon, Winchester.”

“You still wanna marry me after that?” he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes,” she said, simply as she pushed herself closer into him. “You can’t let something she thought affect you because it’s not true. It doesn’t matter what she thinks. So… promise me, right now, that you’re going to let this go. All that matters is you and me.”

Looking deep into her eyes, he remembered everything they had been through together, and thought about all the amazing things they still had to experience. He wasn’t going to let someone from his past ruin his future.

“I promise,” he said, firmly.

She smiled up at him, moving in and capturing his lips, kissing him passionately. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he whispered. “So fucking much.”

“Let’s go home,” she whispered back, stroking her hand lightly over the back of his head. “I think I need to show you just how much I love you.”

He hummed against her lips, kissing her softly. “Yes, please.”

She laughed, biting her lip. “I scared you a little, didn’t I?”

“Well, when I didn’t think about how you could be plotting to kill me,” he joked, smirking as she chuckled, “it was kinda hot to see you pissed off.”

She shook her head, rolling her eyes as she giggled. “You’re crazy.”

“Hey,” he called out, pulling her closer, his hands sliding down to her hips. “I can’t help the fact that it turned me on, sweetheart. It’s just the magic of you.”

She felt her cheeks heat up, pressing her lips together as she tried not to smile. “Let’s go before someone sees us out here.”

Hand in hand, they walked back to the car, separating as they got in. He glanced back at the old house once more, feeling an enormous weight lift off him as he looked at the place that held a lot of pain before Y/N came along. That weight had resurfaced when he saw that list that Lisa had made, but as she always did, Y/N had been there to stop him from losing his way. She was the one who built him back up to the person that he used to be, the one who reignited his spirit. He had known early on how special she was, and she proved time and time again that she was there to stay.

And now, he was never going to lose sight of that. He let Lisa get into his head again, but for the final time, he was putting an end to that. He had someone by his side who wanted to be with him forever, and he was never going to forget that ever again.

Y/N sat at the dining table the next morning, her coffee in hand, all of her plans for the wedding spread out in front of her. She smiled as she sent a few texts out to the girls, asking them if they were available the next weekend to start looking for her wedding dress. As she was looking at photos, she flinched slightly, feeling Dean’s lips against her neck, moving down to her exposed shoulder, the sleeve of his t-shirt she was wearing having slipped down.

“Oh my god, Dean, don’t look!” she yelled, hiding her screen with her hands.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he sat down beside her. “Babe, you haven’t even found a dress yet. I’m pretty sure it’s okay if I can see those.”

“I know, but I don’t want you to see in case I do find something like this,” she explained, smiling sheepishly. “I want to surprise you.”

He smiled as he leaned forward, kissing her softly. “You’re gonna knock me out no matter what dress you pick. Just sayin’.”

“Even if I look like a frosted cupcake?” she teased, giggling.

“Well, yeah,” he agreed, his lips hovering close to hers. “‘Cause then you’ll look good enough to eat.”

“That’s so cheesy,” she snorted, laughing.

“You love it,” he grinned, chuckling along with her.

She pressed her lips to his, kissing him lightly but he had other plans, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her off her chair, onto his lap. She moaned softly against his lips as his fingers ran lightly over her bare thighs, the t-shirt riding up as she straddled him.

“So…” she pulled away from the kiss, reaching for the cheque on the table and showing it to him. “What do we want to do with this?”

“We use it,” he replied, nodding confidently as he smirked. “If there’s any left, we save it for the future, including anything your parents are sending.”

She beamed, brushing her knuckles against his cheek. “Sounds good.”

As they sat there together, having breakfast and coffee as they talked about the plans, Dean was leaving all the negative thoughts behind with the confidence that the woman sitting next to him wasn’t going anywhere. With the promises already made the previous night, he smiled as he thought about all the new ones he would make on the day she finally became his wife.

On the day the next chapter of their lives started.

A chapter he couldn’t wait to explore with Y/N by his side.

-x-

Tags: @deanwanddamons​ // @winchest09​ // @downanddirtydean​ // @jensengirl83​ // @wonder-cole​ // @that-one-gay-girl​ // @whatareyousearchingfordean​ // @flamencodiva​ // @danneelsmain​ // @ellewritesfix05​ // @roonyxx​ // @akshi8278​ //@hobby27​ // @michellethetvaddict​ // @spngirl05​ // @kyjey​ // @440mxs-wife​ // @stoneyggirl​ // @stoneyggirl2​​ // @deanswaywardgirl​​ // @redbarn1995​​ // @marianita195​ // @babypink224221​​ // @deans-baby-momma​​ // @parinarain​​ // @thoughts-and-funnies​​ // @mandalou29​​ // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​​ // @supernatural-love14​​ // @vicmc624​​ // @prettyboyswow​​ // @lunarmoon8​​ // @irmcpar​​ // @compresshischest09​​ // @weepingwillowphoenix​​ // @xlynnbbyx​​ // @whiskey-infused-dreams​​ // @perpetualabsurdity​​ // @verytoadpapersoul​​ // @pink-sparkly-witch​​ //

[queenshelby]

A New Life

Part Ten: The Hunt

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 3,154

Warning: Smut

After about twenty minutes and you finally managed to get dressed, the doorbell rang and Cillian’s sister arrived to look after the children.

Cillian’s sister was in her early thirties and currently pregnant with her second child. She had kindly offered to look after Max and Cian’s children and, after you had met her already a few weeks ago, you thought that this was a good idea since Max wouldn’t be able to walk the whole 12 km you had planned.

Max was excited to see her and Cillian’s young nephew who, recently, had turned four was going to spend the day with him and the other children.

‘Good to see you again Y/N’ she said, greeting you with a hug and you recalled the last time you had met her at Cillian’s house when him and Cian were making dinner. It was obvious to you that she liked you and, even more so, it was obvious to her that you liked her brother and that this feeling was mutual.

‘Good to see you. How was the drive?’ you asked, knowing that she was travelling from Cork, which is where she lived.

‘Pretty good actually. I went to see mum and dad last night for dinner and stayed there’ she pointed out, looking at Cillian as she did. It was obvious to you that she was teasing him, but you didn’t know what about.

‘I got the message, thanks’ Cillian chuckled and, just as he did, his sister pulled him aside.

***

‘You know what I am about to say’ she said to Cillian in private so that no one else could hear them.

She had been trying to get Cillian to ask you out for two weeks now, but he outright refused.

‘And I told you that I am not interested in dating. Despite, she’s twenty years younger than me’ Cillian pointed out again after having made the age gap between you and him quite an issue.

Of course, his sister didn’t know that you were, in fact, sleeping with each other but, this didn’t change the fact that neither of you were wanting to be romantically involved with anyone right now.

What his sister did, however, know was how you both looked at each and how much Cillian enjoyed your and Max’s company. Unbeknownst to you, she had flagged with Cillian several times before and simply wanted him to be happy.

‘Think about it Cillian, she’s young which means that she probably still wants children. Despite, you wouldn’t be the first actor who dates a younger woman. Apparently, it is quite common’ his sister said, grinning cheekily.

‘You need to stop it’ Cillian chuckled. ‘Did Ma put you up to this?’ he then asked somewhat amused after she begged him during his last visit to Cork to find someone, settle down and give her some more grandchildren.

‘Maybe’ his sister grinned in response before carrying on. ‘She said that, perhaps, you just need a little a bit of help’ she then said, causing Cillian to chuckle again before sighing in disbelieve.

‘Ma thinks I need a little bit of help with finding a woman, eh?’ he asked somewhat amused and his sister nodded with a wide smile.

‘Yes, and I have something in mind to help you along’ she went on to say before dragging Cillian back into the kitchen.

Cillian’s sister was into boardgames and a little nerdy, just like her brother. She had recently started a business and was organising parties and fun activities for children and adults. This, amongst other things, included murder mystery parties and escape rooms and she he had a little surprise prepared for your hike as well with the help from your brother Cian who was about to bail on the adventure.

***

‘Listen up folks! I am trialling out a new little business idea and you will be my test objects. I am sending you all on a scavenger hunt’ she announced with excitement, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow.

‘Seriously?’ he asked, unimpressed. He was tired enough as it was and didn’t want to spend the entire day looking for cues.

‘I suppose we better form teams then’ Laura said, looking over towards Cillian who was still preoccupied with his second cup of coffee and didn’t notice.

‘I have already set up three teams and each team will get an envelope with separate sets of instructions. At the end, you will all meet at the same place but you will get there via different ways. The first team to arrive will win’ she explained before handing out the envelopes.

‘Well Y/N, it looks like you are stuck with me for the day’ Cillian said as his sister handed him a green coloured envelope with both of your names on it and you couldn’t help but get a little excited about it all.

You would be spending the next five or six hours with Cillian and you were rather happy about that.

Laura, on the other hand, was disappointed that she was paired up with Evelyn while the other couple at the house was paired up with each other.

***

After addressing a few housekeeping matters and putting on your hiking shoes, each team made their way to the nearby reserve which is where you all had to split up.

Cillian and you were headed south and, after a twenty-minute journey, you questioned Cillian’s navigation skills.

‘Are you sure this is the right way?’ you asked, curious as to whether Cillian knew where he was going.

‘Yes, I am sure. Trust me, alright?’ he confirmed and you nodded and agreed to simply follow his lead. You were way too tired to argue with him and, ten minutes later, were glad that you didn’t as, sure enough, you arrived at the trail referenced inside the envelope you were given.

As you arrived at the trail, the crisp air was blissfully quiet and the area almost seemed deserted. You were surprised that it didn’t attract more tourists but Cillian told you that it was simply too early in the day.

The peace and quiet could almost be felt even as the cool morning breeze wafted through the trees and gently stirred the still morning air.

‘I am fairly sure I know where the first cue is’ Cillian then said as you began walking down the trail still rugged up in long pants and jackets and, when you were sure that really no one was around, you took hold of his hand.

You weren’t sure whether you should have done that or whether it was inappropriate since you weren’t dating, but Cillian quickly confirmed with a kiss that it was alright.

‘I actually like the fact that it is just us for the day walking through these woods’ Cillian then chuckled after your lips drifted apart and he didn’t really appear pressed for time.

‘And why is that?’ you asked cheekily and with a big grin on your face.

‘So, I can keep doing this’ he responded before kissing you again, this time more passionately.

By this point, you were less than an hour into your journey and already lost some time simply by stopping and kissing each other but a kiss wasn’t all you wanted.

‘Is kissing all you want to do while we have this time alone together in the woods?’ you asked while suggestively biting your lip and Cillian couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I suppose I am not very competitive and don’t care if we win or lose so, if we find a quiet and secluded area then, by all means, we can do whatever you want’ Cillian said with a wink and you eagerly nodded before pulling him close again.

‘Hmm how cheeky Mr Murphy’ you giggled and, sure enough, about twenty minutes later, you arrived at a rather secluded area which is also where the next cue was hidden.  

You bent down to pick up the cue and you could immediately feel Cillian’s eyes on your ass when you did.

By this point, you had removed your jacked and stuffed it into your backpack which caused more of your beautiful skin to be exposed.

‘Are you staring at my ass?’ you asked cheekily before reminding Cillian that he was meant to read the next part of the instructions inside of the envelope.

‘Of course not’ he chuckled in response as he was still trying to catch his breath after having walked uphill for quite some time.

‘Out of breath, are we old man?’ you then teased but Cillian wasn’t amused.

‘Call me that again and you are in trouble’ he said before telling you that he was a little out of shape after having missed last weeks’ PT sessions and, just as he did, you pulled him close for a passionate and long kiss.

With a mischievous look, you leaned into him, took the envelope out of his hand and ran your hand over Cillian’s crotch.

‘It looks like this guy isn't out of shape. To the contrary, he seems to be perfectly healthy’ you smirked before pushing Cillian against the large tree in front of which he was standing.

‘He is very eager and active, that’s for sure’ Cillian laughed just before you began to unbutton and unzip his pants in order to free his hard member.

‘Jesus Y/N’ he then groaned as you began to stroke him gently while keeping an eye out to ensure that no one was watching you.

But your sense for your surroundings soon vanished when Cillian pulled you even closer for yet another passionate kiss.

As the kissing furiously escalated you became soaking wet and needed to feel Cillian’s cock inside you. Breaking contact, you quickly turned around and suggestively leaned forward against one of the large rock formations.

There were no words needed and Cillian quickly grabbed hold of your tights and pushed them down your legs along with your panties.

‘So fucking wet again’ Cillian observed with a husky voice as his fingers brushed against your wet folds, collecting some of your juices and spreading them before he lined himself up with your entrance from behind.

‘Well, I am always aching for you, you should know that by now’ you said, wiggling your ass to encourage him to slide inside you.

Then, all of a sudden, you let out a loud cry as, with one swift thrust, Cillian’s cock smoothly penetrated you and entered your waiting pussy.

‘Shh’ Cillian reminded you as each slow and agonising thrust elicited protests from you to speed up but he ignored them with a smirk and proceeded at a painfully slow pace, making sure your body and pussy felt each deep impact.

Coated by your slick juices, drops of your sweet nectar began to drip from Cillian’s cock with every thrust and you could hear him groan behind you, watching his cock impale on your pussy.

‘You are so fucking sexy in those hiking clothes’ Cillian observed and, hearing your soft but growing moans in response, caused him to increase the force and speed of his thrusts.

‘Oh god Cillian, fuck’ you moaned and, eventually, he leaned forward and gave your ears a playful nibble before taking your hands into his so that your entire body weight was balanced solely by his hands and cock.

As he began to speed up and thrusted into you earnestly with the full length of his cock your assets began shuddering from the forceful pounding.

You loved hearing Cillian’s soft growls and he loved hearing your heated moans as you were fucking like animals in heat and your rough but yet passionate love making had been quickly building up to a climax.

‘Oh god Cillian, cum inside me. I want to feel it, all of it’ you moaned as you became louder and more desperate.

‘Not yet’ Cillian said determined as your lustful moans echoed throughout the forest and no doubt spooked some animals. Instead of continuing his assault on your pussy, he pulled his dripping and erect cock out of your warm wetness, leaving you once again to pout and beg in desperation.

‘Please no…Cillian…fuck…’ you huffed out as you turned around to look at him in confusion.

Your plead for more was met with a grin and then a kiss which was passionate but not as heated as the last.

‘Common, let’s keep going and find another cue first’ he said, pulling up his pants and covering his erection as best as he could after your lips drifted apart.

‘Cillian, I am fucking soaking. I need to cum’ you said, disapproving of his teasing, but he enjoyed it way too much. It was his game.

***

An hour and two cues later, you found yet another perfect love making spot deep inside the forest.

‘This perfect, there is no one around and the area is covered with bushes’ you observed just before your lips met with his, demanding him to take you and make you cum without saying anything else.

Cillian nodded and, without words, you both somehow stumbled over to a flat rock not too far from the marker indicating the direction of the trail.

Covered by dense vegetation, this large, smooth rock seemed perfectly suited as a bench for groups of people. For the two of you, though, it was just the perfect place for other activities...

As you sat down on the rock Cillian bent down and proceeded to give you what you deserved.

‘These will need to come off’ Cillian said, kneeling before you and tugging on your tights.

You quickly undid your hiking shoes and then pushed them off before allowing Cillian to remove yourtights and panties.

‘Let’s hope no one comes down this way, eh?’ he then smirked but you no longer cared and pulled him close, desperate to feel him inside of you once again.

Spreading your legs apart, he leaned above you and took you in fully with his eyes. Your smiling and blushing face, cheeks and pussy reddened with arousal turned Cillian on immensely. Your hard nipples poking through your exercise top, heaving with each breath were a sight he knew he would remember forever. And your shy but warm hands, gripped Cillian’s hand with great trust as your shining eyes encouraged him to take you right then and there.

Cillian unbuttoned and unzipped his pants again, pushing them down together with his briefs before aligning himself with your entrance.

Without hesitation, he took a deep breath and plunged straight into your tight wetness as a whimper escaped your quivering lips. Cillian was pushing in firmly and pulling out in an agonisingly slow manner. This only increased the pleasure and soon your bodies were moving in tandem like a well-oiled fucking machine as grunts and moans filled the air.

Cillian was joyfully fucking you as his cock pounded against your pussy and relentlessly assaulted it as your dueling tongues enticed each other to hotter and deeper kisses.

His thrusts soon fastened but, just as you were about to approach a hastening climax, he slowed down again. Although fucking you senseless was what his body yearned to do as he saw your heaving body under him shining with sweat, his reserves of self-control still held.

Pushing in deeply so that you could feel his warm cock filling you up, he remained in you for a short while before pulling out completely.

As you gazed at him with pleading eyes, he smirked, then leaned in to kiss you before slamming his cock unexpectedly into your waiting pussy starving for more.

Again and again, he followed this process of pushing deep into you, holding it there so you could feel such fullness, before pulling out completely and leaving you yearning crazily for the next thrust.

Taking you to new heights of pleasure with each deep impact, he began to speed up unconsciously as your moans and hot pussy walls rapidly eroded his self-control.

All too soon, he felt the climax approaching inevitably. Even as your bodies were lost in pleasure, however, your ears picked up the murmur of early hikers at the summit not too far from where you were. And yet, Cillian’s cock began to pound you harder and faster with increasing urgency and desperation.

‘Don’t you dare fucking stop now’ you moaned quietly and Cillian certainly couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he forcefully pushed down as his hips returned from their swing and thrusted firmly upwards into you. Impaled on his thick and painfully erect shaft, your pussy lips widened, as did your eyes.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as your climax was approaching fast and hard and you began to quiver.

With a groan, Cillian reached his high at the same time as you. His cock was exploding deep inside you, filling your waiting pussy with sticky ropes of hot cum. Even as your pussy walls convulsed with pleasure, they were quickly painted white with his swirling cum while trying their best to milk him dry of every drop.

Wrapped in a deep kiss to muffle your moans of pleasure, you could hear the nearby crowd approaching and, at the sound of the cracking of some sticks, Cillian quickly pulled out of you and helped you up from where you were lying.

Seeing your sore and well-used pussy dripping your juices and his thick cum made Cillian inhale sharply before he pulled up his pants.

You were quick to get dressed yourself before anyone would see you and, sure enough, minutes later, the small group pf hikers found your little hiding spot and greeted you.

***

After another few hours following your small detour deeper into the woods in order to get some intimacy, you finally found the last cue which led you to a small local pub.

You weren’t surprised when you learned that you were, indeed, the last team to arrive at your destination.

‘Did you guys get lost or something?’ Cian asked when you both finally sat down at the table and ordered two pints of Guinness.

‘We just took our time. Those cues were tricky’ Cillian chuckled which is when Evelyn informed you that you arrived an entire hour after she did.

‘I had to stop and take some sightseeing photos as well’ you then told her, cheeks blushing red while you were already thinking about how you would be sneaking into Cillian’s bedroom that night.

   Tag List:

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@peaky-cillian​

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[keilemlucent]

pretty eyes & starshine: iii

(Mostly SFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i   ||   part ii   ||   part iii​​ (epilogue)

word count: ~2.2k

Nothing ever really ends. It just grows in different ways with different parts. 

warnings: description of post-injury, reader and hawks being traumatized but coping, a soft epilogue

the ending folks :’^) thank you for reading this far. here is something gentle for all of us, with some future, past, and the present for sweet starshine and keigo :’^)

enjoy loves 💞!!

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

Keigo doesn’t break promises. 

He loves white lies, the silly kind where he can rib you for a minute or two before soothing any ruffled feathers with quick kisses. He never leaves big wounds, nothing gaping or jagged, just loving pokes in your sides to get you to laugh and quip back at him.

He never goes back on his words that count.

His journeys out of the house remain short and rarely surprising. He never leaves without a goodbye, whether that’s a sleepy fuck or two, or a hand-written, tooth-rotting note on a scrap of paper next to a steaming cup of coffee on the kitchen island.

Keigo’s used to the open skies, rolling forever. The curve of the horizon is his primordial friend that he never got to say goodbye to, but he still chases it a few times a week. Little drives he takes by himself, hikes, and things that he let him feel a bit of that free wind in his shaggy hair. 

It takes you a while, but you don’t look forlornly at the door anymore.

The awareness that of his absence from your little bastion lingers as you move throughout your day, but you know he’s good for his word. He always returns, bearing a toothy grin, and usually an armload of snacks or takeout. 

It’s better, and you’re both a bit more alive. 

...

Spring in the mountains reminds you of something you can’t place. 

The memory of it is foggy, far-off and untouched. Probably a bit dampened from, you know, a year of trauma, but the feeling of it makes your quirk burst to light without fail.

It comes when you notice the little patches of wildflowers that spring up in new grass that rings around the porch. Heat flares in your eyes when you see the little seedlings you and Keigo planted into the window boxes begin to bud and flower. 

The days get longer, sweeter, and the summer comes easily.

...

The bad days never cease, but you both learn to cope to some degree.

Your scar... cracks one day. You’re doing some half-assed stretches in the living room (mostly arching your back so Keigo gets a good peek of your ass) when it happens. Your right leg bends at the knee, and a resounding ‘crack’ and shatter echo off the walls of the cabin. 

You both panic. 

Keigo instantly urges you on the couch, trying to soothe your own panic with little coos from the back of his throat. You feel numb as Keigo shoves up your pant leg, looking for any damage.

The scar looks relatively unchanged. It hasn’t writhed since your days at the hospital, and its edges have only faded a shade or two with time. It’s long, obtrusive, and something you still avoid looking at.

All the same, Keigo traces the gnarly flesh, nimble fingers searching for the source of the sound. Any bit of pain he can identify and soothe, ideally, remove. The pads of his fingers drift to the crook of your knee, pressing against the shiny, black seam of the scar.

His eyes go wide before awe shines through, without a lick of fear. 

He warns you to take a deep breath, ‘breath with him’, before pinching at the glassy center and pulling. There’s a bit of resistance as he pulls, you’re not sure what he’s doing, and you see ‘it’ before you really put it together.

Keigo holds ‘it’ up for you to see.

The inky glass of the scar.

Literal rock. Inky obsidian pulled from your flesh, about the size of your pinky and painfully jagged. 

“W-what is that?” You asked, grabbing his wrist to examine the bit. “That’s... the scar?”

Keigo nods his head, scrutinizing it with you, pinching at it, “Weirdest scab I’ve ever seen.”

Scab.

You have never thought about calling the ugly root of the scar a ‘scab’ but looking at the way it so easily was pulled away, it makes sense. After a bit of examination and tender prodding, the tissue around it looks healthy, albeit thick and burned. The scar goes deep into your flesh, feels raw to the touch, but the skin that’s beneath it is somewhat alive. Maybe too alive, given how sensitive it is.

Nonetheless, you marvel at the little piece of volcanic glass that Keigo had pulled from you like it’s the most precious stone in the world. 

...

It takes a long time to convince both of you.

Keigo never receives another call from Suits, ‘president’, what the fuck her name is. Thank fucking god. His snap seemed to have scared her and her crumbling organization away. You can only hope that it was for good.

The potential return comes from kindness rather than demands. 

Calls from both Endeavor and Miruko, ‘Enji’ and ‘Rumi’ as they insist you call them. Rumi chatters on the phone for hours with Keigo every few weeks, puts the phone on speaker, and has you give your piece as well. You like her, she’s funny and loud and Keigo smiles when he talks to her.

Enji actually visits. 

Once or twice, maybe more. You stop counting when the extra bodies in the cabin don’t have you breaking into a cold sweat anymore. It had taken a great bit of coaxing, but you opened your cabin up for the former pro and his entourage. 

He brings along his daughter and the ‘Three Musketeers,’ as the media calls them. The boys train in the mountains nearby, never lingering too far based on the shouting from the blond one that echoes against the hills. 

The rest of you settle into the walls of the cabin whenever they come to visit. It feels warmer than normal; it makes sweat gather under your arms and in droplets on your forehead. Even if you wanted to attribute the heat to the old flame hero’s presence, it wouldn’t account entirely for your thumping heart. 

You work through it, slowly. 

You like watching Keigo and Enji. They both look worn. Keigo’s a bit too young for grey hair, but Enji has more than his fair share around his temples. The beard around his jaw glints silver in the lowlight of the cabin whenever he tilts his head to sip at his tea.

They smile like old friends, talk like it too. 

You end up in the kitchen a lot during their talks, distantly cooking and observing. You’re always listening to their stories, the banter. It’s hard to keep up with, a lingering vestige of Keigo’s old persona that clings to him and his mannerisms.

You don’t mind it, even if it feels foreign.

...

“Can you pass me that honey, dear?” Fuyumi asks, voice sweet and close.

You nod, sliding her the jar across the corner top. She carefully spoons a glob of the thick liquid into the four waiting mugs, humming just under her breath. 

The cabin feels warm, and it’s not just the ambient heat Enji gives off. 

The ‘three musketeers’ plan to camp in the mountainside and ‘rough it’. You couldn’t imagine the freshly-greened hills giving them too much trouble. They bicker, you have found, constantly. Blunt jabs from Enji’s son, met by explosive remarks from the blond one (why is his hero name so long? You can never remember it well.) Consider your growing aversion to loud noise, you like Deku the best. He seems like the peacekeeper (and peacemaker) of the trio and compliments your cooking. What a gem.

The guest room has been polished into an actual guest room. Fuyumi takes it, and Enji, bless his heart, takes the creaky fold-out couch. He doesn’t mind, he tells you, something about enjoying tending to the hearth at night.

Keigo calls the nights where they fill the house ‘sleepovers’, and he adores them.

They’re a bit overwhelming for you if you’re being honest. But Enji is far less intimidating now that you’ve seen him nodding off and slack-faced on your couch. Fuyumi has patience you’ll never fully understand, and babies you a bit, which you don’t welcome but don’t refuse either. 

She does just that, scooping up three mugs after pushing your own toward you. You regather and sit next to Keigo at the kotatsu, slipping your legs under the thick blanket and sagging with the heat. You rest your head on his shoulder, and he presses you into his side, pressing a few kisses to the top of your head. It’s an idle action, habitual and welcomed as the conversation flows.

(Something about one of Keigo’s old sidekicks. Another about Endeavor’s agency, still chugging along with him at the helm, albeit not as an active hero. The new hero charts, the new rules established, legislation. Things are getting... safer, a semblance of order being re-established now that much of the League has been apprehended.)

(Things are settling, as horrifying as the change is.) 

The thought of so much makes you sleepy, long-standing exhaustion heavy in your bones. You nod off at some point to the kind, safe voices. 

Keigo coaxes you awake once the conversation dies down.

“Love,” he purrs, rubbing your side, “let’s get up now and get you to bed.”

You follow him, the way he rises and guides you to the bathroom to help you ready for bed. Enji is settling on the couch, tugging a few throws over himself on the futon. You give him a shallow wave with half-lidded eyes, meeting his own.

Eye contact feels hard, but you manage to hold it for a few seconds.

In the bathroom, you pop onto the counter and slowly brush your teeth. Sleep clings to you, and you know it’ll return quickly, but the process of moving and interacting wears you down so easily. Your toothbrush almost slips from your grip.

“Just a little more, and then you can rest, dove,” Keigo urges, reverent as he finishes his own routine in tandem. You watch as he splashes water on his face, wetting the tufts of hair that fall around his face.

The cabin feels warmer. 

You notice it as you enter the bedroom, Keigo already hopping into bed to assemble the ‘nest’ as both affectionately refer to it. The old throw, a few extra soft blankets, and a buttery soft duvet must be arranged just right before he is satisfied. 

 Keigo knows it’s a remnant.

He carries plenty of them, little chunks of him that are old and worn, old and unused. He can shake them, can’t bury them, they just simply are.

The birdish ones are nice, he thinks. He likes that he can preen you. He loves that you can preen him. That you’ll indulge him in that way, running your hands through his overgrown hair. You detangle any knots, soothe the snarls and rub at his neck until he’s liquid in your lap. 

He likes nesting. The cold of the cabin can be almost forgotten in the little nests he makes. The mountains of bedding and pillows that you both can settle in. It’s peaceful, and it's shared, and things are okay. 

It’s all slow, and a bit tedious, things that the remnants of ‘Hawks’ scream and thrash at. But, really? Keigo has no reason to listen to a ghost. He tries not to let himself be haunted. 

He indulges himself for the first time in his life, probably.

As Keigo nestles you into the sheets beside him, he gives you a bit of room to get comfortable. Adjusts your pillows how you like, tangle your legs together in the comfiest way. Your own version of nesting that makes his palms sweat and his words turn to mush.

You settle together, chest to chest, Keigo’s chin hooked over the top of your head. 

“Did you have a good day?” You ask, soft and sleepy.

Keigo nods easily, “I did. Enji doesn’t seem to quite as much of a square as he was a few years ago.”

You snort, muffling a giggle into his chest, “He’s definitely a little bit of a square. But I like him.”

“He offered to host us at the estate if we ever want to go back.”

You swallow, thick and slow, and try to bury yourself deeper in him, “... Do you want to go back?”

“No.” He pauses. “Maybe. Not yet, and not anytime soon. But the offer is on the table. It’s nice to have, even if we don’t take it.”

It’s insurance, somewhere else to tuck yourselves away if the mountains stop favoring you. 

The thought of the future makes your head spin, as it tends to. The scar aches, but maybe it’s a tad duller than it was a few months ago. The pains only last a few moments, only stab so deeply. The place where the little chunk of obsidian fell out doesn’t feel quite as tender. 

You lay your cheek on Keigo’s chest, your breath coming in time with his. 

“‘M tired,” You murmur into his chest. “Can I sleep?”

“Of course, starshine.” He pushes back your hair, clears your forehead to press his lips to the skin, lightly. Little kisses piling up on top of each other. “Get some rest.”

“You too, pretty eyes.”

You both need it. For more than just a day with the folks who stuck around. You and Keigo need more rest than a being can responsibly accumulate during a human life. There are things to be stitched, worn parts of you that need tending to, and burns that’ll need salve until the day you die. It’s not any less than it was in the month’s past.

But it’s easier to manage. 

You snuggle into Keigo’s chest, drifting off to the thought of fresh coffee and crackling heat.

✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧   ✧

thank you for reading!!💞

ko-fi

[alfredolover119]

I looooove your zukka rec lists! I recently became Avatar-obsessed, never got a chance to watch it as a kid and only just got through it all! I was wondering if you'd consider doing a specifically angst rec list? I love fluffy zukka everything, but sometimes you just gotta have your heart ripped out of your chest and put back in after being thoroughly blended.

thank you! i relate heavily to “recently became Avatar-obsessed” haha. as for the angst list, i sure can try! warning: all of these have happy endings because im a crybaby who can’t read unhappy endings. also, p much all of the fics in the completed section were featured on my other lists but this is specifically the ANGSTY ones >:^)

angsty zukka wips

first, most obviously, feels like we only go backwards by @oldpotatoe

-currently at 102k with 19/27 chapters posted; rated teen

-the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. the amnesia fic. you know. i haven’t actually read it yet because, as previously mentioned, i’m a crybaby and am waiting for it to finish up but, from my understanding, this fic will murder you in a dark alleyway with no remorse. if u like zukka angst, you’ve probably already read this, but just in case!

An injury leaves Sokka with amnesia. His last memory is of the failed invasion, of leaving his father behind in enemy territory on the Day of Black Sun. Of hopelessness. Rage. // But then he wakes up, and the war is over. Suddenly, he must come to terms with the fact that years have passed, and that he's somehow the Southern Water Tribe Ambassador to the Fire Nation. He is also supposedly friends with banished-Prince-turned-Fire-Lord Zuko, of all people. Close friends.

Yeah, nah.

and i’ll do anything you say (if you say it with your hands) by @goldrushzukka

-currently 38k with 6/8 chapters posted; rated mature

-holy shit. holy SHIT. modern au based on the “my cat likes my fuckbuddy and i am falling in love” trope(?). maybe it’s just because of how the last chapter ended, but oh my god. this one made me cry. made me want to commit violence. when it’s not angsty as hell, it’s pretty funny, but holy shit. ao3 user nebulastucky please.

It’s supposed to be a one night stand. Pick up some guy at a bar, barely remember his name and never learn anything real about him, send him packing in the morning with a thanks for the ride and a cup of coffee to-go. That’s how it’s supposed to go. // But then it’s the best sex Sokka has ever had, and he thinks he’ll hate himself if he never gets to have it again.

Violet Blossoms and Celestial Objects by @hollypunkers

-currently 15k with 2/? posted. rated teen.

-this is the sequel to blue (an angsty, zukka rewrite of book 2-- go read it if u havent!)! !! this is a book 3 rewrite. only two chapters in and mrs hollypunkers is really abusing the miscommunication tag, as zukka writers seem to enjoy doing. im excited to see how the world and story develops with the changes to the story! you should be too!! its very good! obviously spoilers for blue lmao

Having sided with the Avatar in Ba Sing Se, Zuko not only must navigate his new relationship with Sokka but returning to the Fire Nation as a banished enemy. His own journey of self discovery and personal growth must now coexist alongside the personal struggles of every other member of the Gaang as together they blaze a treacherous path toward an unsure victory against Zuko's own father and nation.

breakable heaven by @fruitysokka

-currently 71k with 9/11 chapters posted. rated teen

-swt ambassador zuko! soon to be chief sokka! fake dating ur best friend to get out of an arranged marriage! what could go wrong!!! i also haven’t read this one ((see: i’m a crybaby who is being hurt by too many zukka wips already)), but it has been hanging out in my marked for later for months. from what i understand, this fic has: angst.

With his twenty-first birthday looming just around the corner, the Southern Water Tribe Elders have decided that Sokka, next in line to be Chief, needs to get married. Sokka does not want that, but he does need to get them off his back until he can figure his way out of it. What better way to do that than to pretend to date his best friend (and newly minted Ambassador to the Southern Water Tribe) Zuko? // Seriously, this is a foolproof plan. Maybe one of Sokka's best. Absolutely nothing can go wrong.

angsty zukka fics (completed!)

(i’ll put these in wc order)

lighthouse beam by @incorrectzukka

-7k, rated g

-a modern college au!! zuko’s inner-monologue is very angsty in this fic. typical zuko. also per usual, theyre both fucking dorks. they sort themselves out in the end, but not before The Angst. zuko is semi-deaf in this fic and also he has a bit of internalized homophobia.

Sokka’s breathtakingly beautiful and he’s smart and makes other people laugh. Zuko has a half-burnt face and a deaf ear. It’s not rocket science. // Or, Zuko falls in love with the boy in his Philosophy class.

This Isn’t My Idea of Fun by @khaleeseas

-9k, explicit

-moon spirit/nwt prince!sokka, no war to be found here! admittedly this isnt THAT angsty but like. the angst IS present. zuko is still the prince. a lovely childhood friends (though they hated each other for a minute haha) to lovers story. 

If you asked Zuko, he and Azula saw far too much of Chief Hakoda of the Northern Water Tribe’s children growing up. It wasn’t until they were older, and Azula pointed out that - duh - their families were trying to set them all up, that he realized why. // He was told by his mother to be polite. These people were their friends and allies, and though their nations were as different as they came, harmony between nations was the most important thing. // It wasn’t his fault the Chief’s children were so annoying.

put your lips close to mine (as long as they don’t touch) by @celestialceci

-9k, teen

-modern au! zuko and sokka are college roommates. zuko goes to spend the summer with sokka. again,, not really that angsty but-- its there!! the detail and feeling of Home in this story make me happy. zuko is insecure as hell here too. if ur into that. 

Zuko hates his home. He likes college alright, but he likes Sokka even better, his assigned roommate turned best friend. Spending the summer with Sokka will be fun, a welcome change of pace he desperately wants. It probably won't awaken anything in him... right?

the thing about dancing by anodymalion

-9k, teen

-yes. this one right here officer. it makes my heart ache. also trans sokka! which is cool. but the zuko angst in this one. hurts me. not so much relationship angst as it is zuko learning he deserves happiness angst. i’m sure u know The Type.

The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

i could (never) give you peace by @zukkababey

-10k, mature

-OUCH. OUCH OUCH OUCH. boys please learn to communicate im begging u. also zuko.. zuko, dude. as the tags of the fic say, hes “really going through it” in this one. YOUCH. post-canon.

Zuko almost said it. He almost said the words I think I’m in love with you, but he choked them back down at the last second. // Zuko would never be able to be what Sokka wanted. They might have needed each other during the summer, when two boys with too much weight on their shoulders found comfort in each other in the only way they knew how. // But now Zuko was Fire Lord, and Sokka was leaving.

this love burns so yellow (becoming orange and in its time, exploding) by @meliebee 

-18k, teen, major character death 

-i lied. THIS is the one, officer. found family.. good mai and zuko and toph friendships.. . ozai escapes prison and tries to overthrow zuko. OBVIOUSLY angst ensues. poor boy. he Does heal in this but it gets worse before it gets better. angst angst angst angst.

Ten months after Zuko is crowned at seventeen, he faces his first coup.

Anything for You by beersforqueers

-23k, explicit

-istg. this is probably one of my favorite zukka fics. its PAINFUL. modern au where theyre broken up but sokka hasnt told his family yet so zuko goes home with him for kataang wedding. a bit smutty, but the plot oh my god ohgm y fuvk. made me cry the first time i read it. (see: crybaby!me) insert that one picture of the horse with the caption PAIN. 

In which Sokka and Zuko have broken up but Sokka hasn't told his family yet. So when Katara and Aang's wedding weekend rolls around and he doesn't want to break Gran-Gran's heart, he asks Zuko to pretend to be his boyfriend for one last weekend. // Things don't go as planned.

Moving Mountains by @thefangirlingdead

-64k, mature

-so. when i read this the first time it was in one sitting. soulmate au set within canon era / the comics, to an extent. soulmates can hear each others thoughts. i will happily say this is slowburn, jesus christ. champagne without the cham. 

Soulmates are chosen by the spirits and can hear each other’s thoughts. Sokka thinks it’s cheesy and dumb. Zuko thinks it’s poetic justice that he doesn’t have one because he doesn’t deserve it. Cruel irony is finding out that the prince of the Fire Nation (and the person currently hunting you) is your soulmate.

In the Soft Light by @voidcenturyscholar and @romancedawning

-83k, teen, graphic depictions of violence

-moon spirit!sokka living in the northern water tribe. zuko is sent to the northern water tribe as a cultural liaison. iroh is the fire lord but while he is away taking care of lu ten after his injury ozai steps up. i cannot express how many emotions this fic made me feel. background yuetara. i would almost say found family?? but. anyway. plenty of angst to spare here with a healthy dose of enemies to friends to lovers.

As the newly appointed cultural liaison to Northern Water Tribe, Zuko is the first Fire Nation Citizen to step foot inside the city's walls in nearly a century. He's determined to prove himself—to the Fire Lord and to his father—even if the Water Tribe's spirit-touched prince seems to want nothing to do with him.

That Midnight Sky by @zukkababey

-103k, teen

-now now now. tms... modern college au where sokka agrees to tutor zuko in physics because zuko has to maintain straight a’s and physics is just not doing it for him. so. thats cool but THEN azula moves in, randomly, with zuko. to hide the fact that sokka is tutoring zuko, they fake date! what could go wrong!! the mutual pining in here combined with the angst... wonderful, tasty. everyone read it rn. also SLOWBURN 

In Zuko’s strict family, needing a tutor is just about the worst thing you could do. Failing a class, however, is even worse. The only rational solution? Take up Aang on his offer to find him a physics tutor and have Sokka—beautiful, smart, handsome Sokka—tutor him in secret. // When Azula’s arrival threatens to reveal Zuko’s secret, it’s up to Sokka to convince her this definitely isn’t what it looks like. See, he’s actually… Zuko’s… boyfriend? // Hmm. There’s no way this could get complicated, right?

[anothermicrocosm]

Chapter IV - My Love, When You Dream Them Up

I’m alive! I’m so bad at consistency in general but I was suddenly struck with inspiration so I decided to write a new chapter. I’m hoping I’ll be more consistent from now on so this story can actually progress. Thank you to my two friends (you know who you are!) for bullying me into writing a new chapter, I forgot how much I enjoy it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

x

I hate you.

I hate that you’re the most attractive person I’ve ever laid eyes on. I hate that you know this.

I hate how smart you are. You’re smarter than me and you’re smarter than anyone else I know. I hate the amount of words that are stored in there, in that big, wonderful brain of yours.

I hate your pretentiousness and how you refused to ever say “fuck” when referring to intercourse and only ever used the term “make love”.

I hate your inability to wash dishes.

I hate how you exclusively chew peppermint gum with your mouth agape, loudly. And I hate myself for finding it attractive.

I hate that I feel your absence like a gaping black hole in my chest. I hate that whenever I’m with anyone else, I can’t help but think that it would be better if I were with you.

I hate that you’ve tainted everything I ever shared with you. I can’t listen to “Something” by The Beatles anymore. I just think of the first time you kissed me.

“Do you remember the first time?”

The words resound in my head.

I hate how premeditated that phrase was.

Premeditated - like everything you do. We’re both over-thinkers, except you think about things before, I after. You, wise, me, naive.

You were, of course, referring to the Pulp song. You know it’s my favourite song. Fucker. You fucker. You know the power you have over me, you know you do, so you decided to go on and taint it.

I take my headphones and my phone out of the handy pocket my tailor sewed into my gown. And I play “Something”. And I think of that sunny afternoon spent with you, the one our first kiss took place in. And I think of the song you wrote for me about that day, that glorious, “pulchritudinous” (you un-ironically used that word), picturesque (I’m speaking like you), day.

And I think about how you decided to cover the song with your obtuse metaphors and twist it into being about Arielle. And I hate you even more.

I’m at the café we agreed to meet up in ten minutes early. 12:30 on the dot. We’d met several times after that party and had numerous phone calls. I had officially moved to sunny Los Angeles three months ago and I was immensely grateful for our meetings because it meant I had a friend in that hot, large city I already despised.

In the end, you weren’t able to produce my album because you had to record an album of your own. I wasn’t even disappointed. I was thrilled you even considered it.

“Don’t be late”.

That’s what you ended yesterday’s conversation with. And that’s why I was there half an hour earlier.

You were already there when I arrived.

You smiled at me through big sunglasses and waved me over to the table you chose outside so we could smoke.

As I sat down next to you, I noticed something was different about you. Something had shifted. I later realised what it was, when I got to know you better.

You were nervous. You already knew what was going to happen.

Another example of your overthinking. You had the whole afternoon planned, all of it. Down to the kiss. But you were nervous. I made you nervous. Me.

Honestly, I don’t remember anything about that meeting. I can’t recall what was said. I was too busy drooling over you like a total idiot. I really liked you. A lot.

The only thing I remember was you complimenting the black boots I bought myself for my birthday.

“They’re space cowboy boots. I love them. Very Kubrick-esque”, you said, chuckling.

I had to chuck the boots I so adored in the storage room I rented to put all my tainted belongings in. I just couldn’t have all those things around me. It burnt my heart in ways I couldn’t understand.

The coat I was wearing that day also went in there. And the dress.

“I like your cheetah print coat. Now that I think about it, your whole outfit is straight out of a sixties french filmé. Even your makeup!”, you exclaimed through a cloud of smoke from the cigarette you were holding in between two fingers.

I laughed. “Thank you, although it’s leopard print, not cheetah. For someone who knows so many words, you sure don’t know a lot about fashion”, I teased.

It was a cool yet sunny September afternoon. It was cool enough to keep my coat on, which was wrapped tightly around my black slip dress.

You payed for our lunch despite my arguing and on we went with our adventure. We didn’t stop talking the whole time as we slowly walked, calm and content towards a local record store you knew.

You took me there without my asking because you remembered I kept a collection.

The record store had a secluded listening booth.

We looked through the bins while talking about music and other unimportant things that seem huge in those moments.

I later found out how comfortable you were with me from the start. I thought you were only shy with interviewers since you were funny and charming with me from the start. Until I saw you with other people you were supposed to be close with. I don’t think I ever saw you talk to anyone else the way you talked to me.

You held up a record. A “Something/Come Together” 7” single by The Beatles.

“Let’s listen to this”, you said, cocking your head in the direction of the listening booth.

I sat down in one of the chairs and watched as you put on the record.

I heard the soft drums and the first seven guitar notes of “Something”‘s intro. All of a sudden my palms were sweaty and the room was too small…

…Something in the way she moves…

…You looked over at me and I looked right into the dark galaxy of your eyes. And your mouth, slightly agape as you leaned over…

..Somewhere in her smile she knows…

…I watch you close your eyes as you get closer to me and my chest feels too tight and my stomach flutters. Your mouth is almost at it’s final destination and you slowly put your hand on my thigh…

…You’re asking me will my love grow…

…I feel my face redden as I close my eyes and lean towards you, my mouth in a pout to help you finish your journey…

…I don’t want to leave her now…

…You taste of coffee and cigarettes and faint peppermint gum and of the tuna sandwich you just had for lunch and your lips are soft and I can smell your cologne and your men’s deodorant and fresh shaving foam and the pomade in your hair and the leather of your jacket and the detergent of your shirt and your skin I can smell your skin itself and your hand is on my thigh and your ring is pressing against my soft skin and I’m melting and I know the song is about to end and you’ll pull away from me and I want this moment to last forever and…

…You know I believe and how…

…The last notes of the song play and I look at you and you’re blushing too and I can feel how hot my face is and your hand is still on my thigh and I don’t want to move and I want to stay there in the booth forever staring into your dark, expressive eyes…

There’s a loud knock on the door and a voice tells us to get out.

“Coming!” I yell back at the voice.

You take your hand off my thigh, put the single back in the sleeve, help me up, and open the door for me.

And just like that, the moment is over.

[coldhellfire]

mha mentor headcannons!

pro hero!dekusquad as UA student!reader’s mentor!

characters: izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, tenya iida, ochoko uraraka, tsuyu asui

summery: aged up au/pro hero au!dekusquad mentoring reader over there time at UA! essentially, it’s like an independent work study

izuku midoriya !

pro hero deku loves taking students under his wing

he lives to help students out like gran torino and sir nighteye helped him (and not all might, fuck all might)

he’s most likely to take in the smallest in the class, the one with the ‘weakest’ or most obscure quirk, or the ‘loser’ kid

what can i say, he just see’s someone like his self when he was young and he just needs to help out

and he is such a great mentor, with all his notes from his time in school and his time with his mentors

he does get nervous about his teaching style sometimes and worries that he’s doing more harm then help but deep down he knows he’s doing well for himself

speaking of his teaching style, he works you hard

it’s almost constant workouts and quirk training, he knows better than anyone how important control over your quirk is and he’ll have you work until you have complete control of your quirk

and when i say ‘almost constant’ i mean daily runs, in class stretches, 5 days of week of high intensity workouts, 1 day yoga, and one day rest

but in return he makes sure you know that he’s proud of how hard you work and how far you’ve come

he also sets you up with a meal plan so you’re getting proper nutrition with your intense training schedule

his main focus is quirk training and hero training, though he does teach you about being a part of an agency, publicity, patrols, and hero society

though because he’s the top hero those last parts are hard but he does his best

if for any reason he has to jump away from hero society teachings he’ll send out off to one of his friends from highschool or have one of his sidekicks accompany you

he really doesn’t like leaving you, especially since he promised to help you on your journey to becoming a hero but he does what he has to

and don’t forget that he’ll come visit everytime you land yourself in at home rest or in hospital to give you a light scolding and some food

and no matter how hard he works you, he cares very much about you

shoto todoroki !

pro hero shoto doesn’t often take students in for training after his history with over training because of his father

but he decided to try it out after midoriya met a young student with both of their parents quirks through his own mentorship of a student

like mentioned, he doesn’t take students under his wing often but he is willing if the circumstances are just right

but he is a good mentor, a little quiet and hard to read but good

he doesn’t really have a teaching style, he just tries to not be like his father

now he doesn’t do as much workouts but more quirk training and public image work

if you ever run into bakugo while your out with todoroki, he will 100% call you stupid for taking todoroki’s advice

but it’s not like bakugo has a great public image

and as he is also in the top rankings, he often gets called away but he’ll always apologize by taking you out for soba

he might just send you midoriya’s way if he isn’t busy

and everytime you find yourself top of your class in an exercise or completion he’s there at you next training with a congratulations and some coffee jelly

just so you know that he’s proud of your hard work

tenya iida!

okay, pro hero ingenium. i see him mentoring kids with some behavioural or over confidence issues. maybe a kid with a bad streak

he wants to help them to be the best hero’s they can be, which means helping them get their attitude in check and getting past their hard times

when doing this he isn’t mean or judgemental of the kid, he’s compassionate and shows them ways to communicate with the public and keep a good image up without changing who they are

he does a lot of focus on public relations, image work, and agency training

but he does keep a balanced schedule of workouts and quirk training

i’m fact he keeps you on a very strict schedule

including wake up times, homework, extracurriculars, individual workouts, cleaning, hygiene, meal plans, and a bedtime

it’s intense

but so worth it

you would make so much progress with him

and he ensures that you are aware that he’s proud and that you’re doing well

but he won’t inflate your ego to much

and unless it’s life or death, he won’t leave you during his training time with you

if he does have to leave, he makes sure to have you continue training and makes up for it with extra sparring when he returns

and after a hard week he might get you something to drink and something sweet, just to keep you on track- of course

totally not to cheer you up and remind you that you’re doing good

ochoko uraraka !

our lovely prohero uravity! i think she would be a fantastic mentor!!

she would definetly chose a student who’s underestimated or seen as an underdog, or someone who’s quirk is considered ‘one note’

she’s all about giving you a more diverse fighting style and showing you that your quirk can be used for more than just it’s obvious use

besides midoriya i think she would be the best mentor in 1-A

she just cares so much for you - i mean your dream of being a hero - that she puts her all into helping you

and like her friends, it’s intense working with her! she remembers feeling so exhausted and sore during her time with gunhead and aizawa-sensei

now it isn’t as planned as iida and midoriyas schedules, but it’s still pretty thorough

meal plans!!! every week she has a new meal plan for you and it’s always delicious! the meals she suggests are to die for. i couldn’t tell you why, but they’re so good

and you were not expecting how intense these workouts are- my lord it’s like she’s trying to kill you

but you make a lot of progress

and she loves having you around at her agency! and going on patrols with you!

she’s a very very well rounded mentor!

you probably will numb into bakugo with her, and though he won’t admit it, he’s scared that you could kick his ass after this mentorship

and of course, she personally brings flowers to your family and to you every time you get injured

and she’ll come visit you and spend time with you if you ever find yourself on bed rest

tsuyu asui !

the amazing pro hero froppy!! now i love her, but i just don’t see her being a great mentor-

not to say she’s a bad mentor, she surely isn’t!

but she has a very ‘my way or the highway’ out look, and her way doesn’t always match up well with quirk or experience

which is why she usually picks her mentee’s very carefully!

and when she has a kid she can work with, she thrives

she focuses mostly on hero society and hands on work, so prepare to be going on missions and patrols frequently!

every evening she’ll take you with her (and usually her side kick!) out on patrol with her, that way you can get used to interacting with the public as a pro!

and see just how boring some nights are-

but if something truly dangerous comes up, she keeps you out of harms way

and be prepared to deal with other pre hero’s a lot, she’ll often send you to talk with them that way you can understand the diplomacy aspect of being a pro!

that and she doesn’t like the diplomacy aspect herself-

and training with her is always interesting, she does t have you spar a lot but she does do a lot of terrain work

that means long distance swimming, diving, climbing, heavy snow, blazing heat, everything!

but she also does know when too much is too much and gives you days off

[ikroah]

You can say that you're leading me on but it's just what I want you to do. Don't you notice how hopelessly I'm lost? That's why I'm following you. — “Misty,” Johnny Mathis (1959)

It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #13 - 188 Trading Post

Collaborative Issue! Guest Inks and Colorist: @worthlesssix​

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Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:

Notes:

This is one of my favorite issues I’ve scripted because it’s just Agnes and Cass kind of hanging out, a type of issue I don’t really have a lot of room for in a series that moves forward as deliberately and intentionally as IKROAH does. A year into this pandemic I’m also really, REALLY missing diners, so it was natural for me to interpret the 188 Trading Post as such.

Also, the next issue, #14, is the final issue of Volume One. It feels like I’ve been working towards it forever, but also that it’s sneaked up on me so fast. Anyway, it’ll be out two weeks from today on March 27th. Readers, I’ll see you in Boulder City then.

Also also, it seems like @worthlesssix​ is just destined to do the inks and colors on all of the scripts that I love the most, because she really painted this one in a lush, warm, lovely style that just took my breath away. The desert sun, all the intimate little details of the 188, the mauvish and cracking overpass...just an absolute privilege to work with such a wonderful artist and friend a second time on this project.

Also also also, the traveler in the gas mask chatting up Veronica is Charlie, who belongs to @jepsxyhn​ / @comrade-shrimp. It was so much fun to draw them in! There’s tragically not a lot of good crowd scenes in IKROAH for cameos like this, or else I’d do them more.

Also also also ALSO...that butterfly on the Forecaster’s finger is a desert black swallowtail, a native to the Mojave! Just a fun detail, in case you were curious.

Original Pencils (click for full size):

Six’s inks and colors on this issue are so incredible and stylish that I almost forget that the she drew it over the skeleton of my own pencils. But yes! Every line, every detail, every tough perspective shot was real lead on real paper first, and to be honest, folks, I’m really proud of these ones, especially the deep shot of the Forecaster and Gun Runners on the third page. Note the extremely intense Frankensteining that went into the first and second page. The reason there’s two floating mugs in the pencils for the first page was because I originally intended for there to be three panels, not two, with one of the panels being Cass taking a sip, and the other panel being her saying it was too bitter. And then...I just fucked up the pencils, haha. But the layout was definiely better for it, it would have been too cramped otherwise. I also decided against “switching” the top two panels like I originally must have intended.

Transcript:

EXT. 188 TRADING POST.

AGNES SANDS and CASS are seated at the small, sheltered bar of the 188, having a late breakfast and coffee. A few other travelers stand around or sit, with MICHELLE KERR manning the counter. The RADIO behind the bar is playing, and CASS takes a thoughtful sip of her coffee as MR. NEW VEGAS introduces a song:

RADIO: You know, sometimes the journey beats the destination. Especially when your spurs go "jingle, jangle, jingle," and you meet some nice gals along the way. We'll be back with some news, after this.

CASS: That's not bad. Smoky. A bit too bitter.

AGNES: A bit too bitter?

CASS: I guess I'm not one for strong flavors.

AGNES: Not one for...? Cass, when I first met you, you were deep in six bottles of whiskey.

CASS: And I was deep in another six last night trying to forget what Searchlight smelled like. Sorry to disappoint, but maybe I've just burned my taste buds off by now.

(NOTE: *IKROAH #11—Lou.)

CASS bites into her sandwich with a CRONCH, then looks askance at AGNES.

CASS: I didn't do anything embarrassing last night, did I? I don't remember much.

AGNES: Not that I know of. When I went up to our room, you were still talking to that sniper. I was asleep already before you came back.

CASS: Uh-huh.

Beat. AGNES takes a bite of her omelette, CASS has some more coffee.

AGNES: Wait a minute. You were already out when I woke up, too. You did come back to our room, right?

CASS: OHHHH MY GOD, now I remember.

CASS’ head hits the bar with a miserable THUD.

AGNES: How bad?

CASS: You ever try to come onto a guy who's grieving his dead wife?

AGNES (sipping coffee): No, I don't come onto men in general.

CASS: Ha ha. Funny. Good for you that you don't have this problem. Ugh.

MICHELLE swings by the two, a pot of coffee in her hand.

MICHELLE: More coffee, ladies?

CASS, head still down, gestures her mug affirmatively.

CASS: Please. My head’s still killing me.

RADIO: ...aaaaand we're back, folks. It's midday in the Mojave, and boy, is it a hot one out there...or is it just me?

RADIO: Our top story today...the stand-off at Boulder City between the NCR and a splinter group of Great Khans has entered its third straight day of tensions.

AGNES (flash of recognition): Huh.

RADIO: The Khans refuse to yield their hostages, but they can't stay holed up much longer, according to an NCR spokesperson. Folks...let's just hope they don't blow it up again, am I right?

AGNES: Cass, do you hear this? Those might be the Khans who shot me.

CASS: I thought you said some guy in a checkered suit shot you.

AGNES: He hired two Khans as help.

CASS: Alright, so the accomplices to your attempted murder might be in Boulder City, and you want to...do what, exactly?

AGNES: I...I, uh...

CASS: Just saying, if you rush in guns blazing, all you're gonna do is get yourself killed. For real this time.

CASS: I'm not saying don't go...if all this had happened to me, I'd make all these fuckers choke on the end of my shotgun. But we're really going to need a plan, is all.

AGNES: We? So you don't mind squaring up against Khans?

CASS: I'm a red-blooded Californian, ain't I? Fuck the Khans. Speaking of, it's not like the NCR and them are having a tea social together. How do you suggest we interrupt a standoff?

AGNES stands up, throwing some caps onto the counter with a jingling of light, metallic KLINKA-KLINK sounds.

AGNES: We'll just...think of something when we get there. We should probably go now, too, if we want to get to Boulder City before nightfall.

AGNES starts to leave as CASS gets halfway out of her own stool, hurriedly finishing her coffee.

AGNES: Come on.

RADIO: ...you know, they say no news is good news, but I think my program would be awfully dull if that were the case.

RADIO: You’re gonna love this next song. I guarantee it.

[wavyhairedbabyy]

Idiots - Part 2

Karl Jacobs x gn!reader

tldr: They’ve both got a crush. Sucks, since they’re the only ones oblivious to it. (Slow Burn!)

CW: none, fluffy :))

a/n: Picnic portion was inspired by Sunflower by Rex Orange County :) Sorry it took so long! Major writers block on this but now I’m back :)))

edited yet?: yes - let me know if I missed anything!

Part 1 - Part 2

“So we agree, I’m Eve and you’re Wall-E?” y/n asked as the credits began to roll.

“I want to sit here and disagree with you just to spite you, but I can’t,” Karl responded, “I could 100% see you blasting someone for just walking funny on a bad day.”

“I’d blast you just for the hell of it,” Y/n jumped onto their feet raising their arms up in a big stretch after sitting for the movie.

“Bad choice,” Karl reached his arms to the side of their body, immediately tickling them. Y/n immediately screamed out his name, trying to move themselves out of his grasp. As soon as Karl noticed this, he grabbed their arm to pull them back on to the sofa.

“You’re... going... to... regret... this!” Y/n huffed out, thrashing against him. Karl’s giggles and their screams echoed around the house. It wasn’t until y/n mustered up all of their strength to push him of the couch for them to escape his clutches.

Y/n ran to the bathroom, quickly locking the door behind them. Karl quickly ran behind them only to have the door slammed in his face, “Aw, c’mon y/n, let me in.”

“After that stunt you pulled? In your dreams, Jacobs,” Y/n turned toward the sink, ignoring Karl’s attempts to unlock the door. The only thing on their mind was their night routine and then hitting the hay.

As y/n started the warm water, the door swung opened making them jump. At the door frame stood Karl with a quarter in his hand, “Next time you should check to see what kind of lock I have.”

“Whatever, smart ass,” y/n rolled their eyes playfully, reaching for their tooth brush. They brushed their teeth as Karl scrolled through his phone. After the flight, unpacking, and a night with Karl, y/n just wanted to head to bed. They couldn’t even imagine how Karl felt with all the Mr. Beast stuff. After rinsing their mouth they asked, “You goin’ to bed too?”

Karl shook his head, “Nah, I’m going to stream for an hour or two. Nick and Alex want to practice for this Minecraft Championship thing so I’m gonna root them all while also roasting the crap out of them.”

Y/n should’ve known, especially with the mountains of energy drinks in his fridge. The man probably never sleeps, “Well you enjoy that. I’m knocking out for the night.”

Karl nodded. “I figured. You and you grandma schedule,” he giggled, resulting in a pout from them.

“You say that as if dealing with sleep deprived me isn’t one of the worst things in the world.”

“I mean, you got me there,” he shrugged. He walked over to them, wrapping his arms around them tightly, “Goodnight. Knock on my door if you need anything at anytime, okay?”

Y/n nodded, hugging back just as tightly. They wished this could last together. His smell was comforting, reminding her of happiness and serenity. His hold made them feel safe, like nothing could hurt them as long as he was there. The feeling ended too quickly as he pulled away, giving them one last smile before heading off to his stream room.

Y/n looked at themselves in the mirror, huffing to themselves. Going from not seeing Karl for over a year to all Karl all the time felt like sensory overload. The butterflies, the emotions, their head racing with thoughts that they shouldn’t have for someone who is just their best friend - it was a lot.

This was going to be a long week.

***

Y/n woke up to the sun’s rays gleaming through the blinds. Looking at their phone, they saw that it was 9AM. Juggling between the staying in bed and getting up, y/n decided that getting up was the better option. The last thing they wanted to do was go back to bed and mess up their “grandma schedule,” as Karl would call it.

Moving out of the bed, they reached their limbs as far as they could stretch them. After picking their outfit, they journeyed to the bathroom to get their morning started. On the way over, they peeked into Karl’s room and saw him still asleep. They had no idea when he had gone to bed so they shut the door quietly, making their way to the bathroom once again.

As they were brushing their teeth, y/n realized it was the day they were going to the warehouse for a Mr. Beast video. They knew they weren’t going to be filmed, but the nerves were still there. They had met Chris, which was helpful, but not Jimmy yet. What if they messed up a shot? Or messed up any equipment? Not touching anything while they were there seemed like a fool proof idea.

Y/n finished up their morning routine as they kept thinking of ways to not fuck anything up. Making their way to the kitchen, they knew the one thing that could - somewhat - calm their nerves: coffee.

Y/n happily found a jar of instant coffee. Not the best, but it’ll do. Upon unscrewing the jar, they noticed it a plastic film seal up which confirmed that it was brand new. Did Karl get this just because he knew they were coming? They couldn’t recall him ever drinking caffeine that wasn’t from an energy drink. Y/n didn’t know, but the idea of it made their heart melt.

***

Once Karl woke up, he and y/n made a quick breakfast together made their way over to the warehouse.

“I don’t know why, but I’m really nervous. I don’t even know what I’m nervous about. I know it’s going to be fine, but.... I don’t know,” y/n expressed on the drive there. It was a brand new experience and they didn’t know what to expect. They’ve never been on a set of any kind let alone one for someone as well known as Mr. Beast.

“Hey, you’ll be okay. I know it can feel overwhelming, especially for your first time. I’ll be there if you need anything,” Karl comforted them through their nerves. He held their hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “If you ever need a minute, don’t wait to ask. Just take it.”

Y/n smiled at him. He was always great at making sure they were comfortable wherever they went. While the nerves were still there, they felt a lot better knowing Karl was available, even among the chaos that may ensue.

***

The day at the warehouse went really well. Y/n’s nerves went away about an hour in, but that didn’t stop Karl from checking every now and then. Y/n was grateful that they respected them not wanting to be filmed, especially when they started filming a Fear Factor like video with snakes, cockroaches, and tarantulas. With all the creatures around, it didn’t take long for them to grab one of the smaller boa constrictors and start chasing Karl around with it.

“Y/N! STOP! WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?” Karl screeched, running away from them.

“REMEMBER THAT TICKLE ATTACK FROM LAST NIGHT? TOLD YOU YOU WOULD REGRET IT!” Y/n yelled back. They were laughing the entire time while Karl continued his screaming. Their fun chasing Karl was cut short when snake man had to start packing away his animals.

At some point during the day, y/n had taken a step outside for a social break. Chris took this time to continue the conversation he and Karl had in the car. Walking over to his friend, he asked, “So have you told them yet?”

Karl looked around to ensure you hadn’t come back or were around before responding, “No, I’m going to wait until right before they leave. I’m scared that I’ll tell them and it’ll ruin the week.”

Chris looked at Karl, absolutely dumbfounded, “Dude, I can’t believe the two of you. And you two acted the way you did today in college too?”

“I mean, yeah. We’re best friends. What’s wrong with how we’re acting?” Karl gave him a confused look.

“Nothing but it’s so painfully obvious y’all are into each other. I didn’t pick it up yesterday, but y/n is totally into you too, man,” Chris explained, “Even Chandler was able to pick it up. He thought I was kidding when I said you two weren’t a low-key thing. Please do both of yourselves a favor and just tell them.”

This conversation ran through Karl’s head the rest of the day. Did y/n really like him back? The thought of that made his stomach do flips. He became hyper aware of all y/n’s actions and they suddenly meant more to him. When they high-fived, he felt his hand on fire when they weaved their fingers with his. He was more aware of their body on his when they hugged, butterflies flying through his stomach when they gave him a squeeze.

The drive home was spent by y/n non-stop talking about how much of a great day they had right after a heated debate on where they would be picking up dinner. They were too tired to even thinking about cheffing up a meal. What y/n didn’t know was the nerves hidden underneath Karl’s semi-cool exterior on how he planned on confessing his feelings. Luckily, “semi-cool” was his middle name.

The two had stopped at the Asian fusion place they decided to pick up food from. As they got into the car, Karl’s eyes lit up as he came up with an idea for dinner and turned to y/n.

Y/n, noticing this, furrowed their brows and said, “You either have a really good idea or a really dumb idea, and I think you’re going to tell me whether I want to hear it or not.”

“You are absolutely right!” Karl giggled, “Anyways, to keep it short and simple, picnic in the park? I have a blanket and we can pick up some ice cream or something.”

“That... actually is a great idea! I’m starting a playlist now and I’ll share it with you. How does ‘stupidly great vibes’ sound?”

“Sounds perfect.”

***

The two sat on a hill in a nearby park, digging into their dinner with the last minute playlist y/n had come up with playing in the background. The bottom of the sun was barely touching the horizon, getting ready to set and give the sky to the moon for the night.

The comfortable silence they had was one of their favorite things about their relationship. Neither of them ever felt pressure to fill the emptiness. Just being in each other’s company was entertaining and pleasing for both of them. They just watched their surroundings, while enjoying their food and each other’s presence.

After they clean up, the silence continued. They sat shoulder to shoulder, enjoying the moment they were in. They both would steal side glances at each other without the other noticing. Moving to lean their head on Karl’s shoulder, Y/n was looking at the sunset but their thoughts were swarmed with him and the last day and a half. They loved how he always made sure they were comfortable and welcomed in any setting. They loved they way his voices would crack during a fit of giggles. Just one day with him had their mind swirling in a pool of just him. His touch, his smell, his voice. They felt like they were in a trance with him.

Being with them, Karl realized how much happier he was with them there. He realized how much giddier he was waking up, how his mood had been uplifted with just their presence. He loved how headstrong they were, but never so much to the point that it hurt other people. He loved the way they could up his self esteem in the matter of a few minutes. The more and more he thought about it, the more he realized he loved them. He loved them more than just a best friend. He’s had for a handful of years. He wanted more than just the title “best friend.”

The two sat there, both individually coming to the realization that they have been falling in love with the other over the last few years. Neither caught onto each other’s hints while every outsider saw the love for one another other bloom.

Karl turned his head, spotting a small white daisy in the grass next to their blanket. He leaned over to grab it which forced y/n to lift their head from where it was, their eyes watching for what he was reach for. Plucking it from the grass, he leaned back and gave it to y/n.

“For you,” he practically whispered with the goofiest grin on his face. Y/n took the flower from his hand, returning his smile.

“Aw, thanks Karl.”

They locked eyes immediately after. Any plans Karl had in his mind on confessing to y/n immediately got thrown out the window, the hours of thinking gone to waste. In that moment, he blurted out the only words he could make sense of in that instant, “y/n... I think I’m in love with you.”

Y/n froze, trying to wrap the words he said around their head. They for sure thought they were awake but after his confession, they couldn’t be sure if they were in a dream or not. Their mind was reeling, making the task of forming a sentence that made sense a difficult one.

At the same time, Karl was giving himself a mental face palm. He wanted to confess his feelings, but not to that level. His nerves were on high alert, already assuming the worst was yet to come. He had to save the friendship at the very least.

“I-I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to come out like that,” he rambled, “But - uh- I’ve had a crush on you for a while now and I never wanted to ruin the friendship but if you’re uncomfortable with that, that totally makes sense-”

As he kept talking, y/n began to collect their thoughts. They thought he looked so cute when he nervously rambled but they had to cut him off eventually, knowing his anxiety levels were through the roof.

“Karl,” As soon as he heard their voice, his rambling stopped and kept all eyes on them. He looked at them waiting for a response but receiving none. Instead y/n wrapped their arms around him, enveloping him in a warm hug, “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Karl felt his heart explode. Chris was right. He hugged them back just as, if not more, tight. Any nerves he had running threw his body were replaced with pure happiness. He didn’t need to hold anything back from them anymore.

Y/n pulled away from the hug, leaning their foreheads together, “Can I kiss you?”

Karl smiled, “Honestly, it’s all I’ve want since I made that shot into your coffee.”

Y/n gave Karl a bewildered look, “What? That long?” They exclaimed

“Yeah, but we have the rest of the week to talk about it.” Karl leaned in, pressing his lips gently against theirs, wrapping his hands around them to bring them closer. The kiss was gentle and sweet, as if they would be woken up from a dream if they were anything but that.

They pulled away from kiss, but remained in each other’s arms. They stayed silent and enjoyed each other’s presence and touch, each meaning much more than they had just a few moments earlier. All that was left in the park was the semicircle of the sun on the horizon, a bag of food scraps, and two idiots, dumbfounded at the love they had for each other.

***

If you liked this fic, check out my others:

Masterlist

[bangteamhyuk]

Seesaw (II)

Genre: Mature/Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Neighbors with benefits/Fuck buddies, Producer! Min Yoongi, Fuck girl! OC Y/N, Neighbors AU (a Spin-Off to “Moving On”)

Warning: (NSFW! 18+) Car fingering while Yoongi drives, handjob, blowjob, cum licking/ spitting, Producer! Min Yoongi practicing SAFE SEX and ya’ll kids should do it too, mentions of bullying, suggestive abuse of power/ office boss being a d*ck, alcohol drinking and getting hammered, mention of sexist remarks, Seokjin being damn handsome AF just by walking in OC Y/N’s life like it’s okay because clearly it isn’t (I’m Jimin bias btw, I know you aren’t asking but I’m serving still) OC Y/N basically being unapologetically herself (living life in debauchery) and Yoongi knowing exactly what he needs in his damn life and he isn’t taking no for an answer.

Word count: 10,977k

SYNOPSIS: For months, you’ve been trying to hide your little crush on your neighbor who lives on the 18th floor. Until one night, you saw him drunk on the elevator with an empty bottle of Scotch, you asked if he maybe wants to have more of those in your place. And he did more than just agreeing.

Also thank you to these wonderful people: @flowerblu00​ @milkyshoooky​ @sugaaddiction​ 

“Of course, I’d love to….” you spoke low while taking a glass of water to drink. From the rims of the glass, you swore you could see Yoongi trying his best not to smile, playing it cool by pretending to struggle in picking the cooked meat from the grill. You bit the chopsticks to fight a smile, you must admit, that was pretty cute.

--

But Rush Hour. Of all the days you two choose to get laid was on Friday evening—a time where, unfortunately by default, everyone collectively decides to get laid as well. Thus, getting stuck in a sea of red lights. Needless to say, you two were bummed.

The traffic was so terrible, that it sucked you dry… literally. It’s as if a Dementor went around Yoongi’s car, found its way in, and unfashionably sucking you from underneath your seat. (Which by the way doesn’t look sexy at all. Seriously, who gets turned-on from that idea? Clearly not you) You were damn fine damp a minute ago, and now it felt uneventfully dry.

“You know what? This is ridiculous. I can see a motel nearby, why don’t we go there in the meantime?” you dramatically lamented from your seat. Yoongi, who was drinking iced coffee, almost choked to hear you declare your frustration so casually.

“Well, um…” he peered through the windshield “I can see the cars are moving in the next lane…”

“The motel is right over there” you pointed, emphasizing the short distance between the car and the building to his left.

He gulped “I uh-- I don’t like to take you to some sleazy motel. Besides, we have our own place” he starts counting by the finger “One, we don’t have to lie down on dirty sheets. Two, won’t clearly hear people moaning next door, and lastly no one’s gonna charge us by the hour…” facing you and concern

“Tell that to your friend who’s waning by the minute…” you pursed your lip pointing in his nether region. He instinctively closed his legs at your retort and chuckled “It’s fine, we’ll be fine… thanks for the genuine concern. Oh look, the light turned green! See, we’re moving?  I think the next lane is pretty lax...”

You can only huff as your dry reply.

As much as he wanted to leave with you right away and get to the nearest subway station the very moment you agreed, he couldn’t.  Because of all the days he decided to feel horny, he chose to go out with his car. He shut his eyes and dropped his head on the steering wheel to express his blowing resentment towards the cars, gradually becoming stationary on the said next lane. Thus, extinguishing any glimpse of hope that you two would arrive at his place, at an earlier time.

With an aching face, he wished that he could turn back the time and just to leave his damn car at the apartment building. Just so he could save his own balls from turning blue by the minute.

It was obvious that he was frustrated too, like you. Who wouldn’t? Being jammed in almost half an hour already? Still on the city street, barely moving? You had to deal with it.

Then it hit you: Yeah, why not deal with it?

However, you quickly realized that this may be a hit or miss. Not all people share the same interest or kink, but you were dying to have your back scratched, and so is he. So fuck it, you’re doing it.

You began to move your legs, slowly brushing it against Yoongi’s hand which was resting on the gear. He reacted, naturally. In fact, when the traffic light changed colors from red to green, he accidentally stepped on the gas pretty abruptly which partly shoved you down from your seat “Sorry…” furrowing his eyebrow apologetically, deep enough to find your pardon.

“It’s okay” fixing your hair from the center, and tucking it securely on your ears. Thankfully, you didn’t forget to put on a seatbelt, or else the plan you had in mind would have backfired. He sighed in relief, grateful that you accepted his apology.

Uncontented, you then pressed your hand on top of his. His hands suddenly turned cold as he tightened his grip on the gear, right before your touch. While you were certain that most men reacted positively to it, being open to a semi-public tryst, your expectations were not met. Instead, he cleared his throat and held your hands... held your damn hands.

He gently hit the brake as he approached another mob of halted cars on the next lane. Obviously flustered, he quickly moved his head to the side taking glimpses of whatever there was on his side mirror while withholding his smile. He momentarily pulled his hands away from you to shift his gear to neutral, then held your hands back. He even pushed his own finger in between its gaps and locked it. Locked your damn hands.

Slowly you closed your eyes and took one deep breath, not because your heart started to flutter, but because of your utmost disappointment at his response. This is clearly different from what you wanted to happen.

You took a mental note of the events and Yoongi’s actions, concluding that he was clearly a man who disliked beating around the bush. So, for the sake of being clear on your intention, you aggressively pulled his hand, opened his palms and let it slowly brush the skin hiding underneath your skirt.

He froze. Now you got his attention.

Nervously, he coughed on impulse. While his one hand remained clutched on the steering wheel and his eyes still focused on the road, the other hand was busy grazing your inner thigh. Surprisingly, he didn’t budge. He lets you take control, directing him where you want him to be while touching you gently. You then took his wrist, and guided his fingertips towards where you wanted it from the very beginning.

“Y/N, I just think it’s better if we wai---” for a moment, he had forgotten what he wanted to say to you next, because suddenly he felt his finger move to a place where he is afraid you'll lead it to-- your wet slit.

He swallowed, his mouth left ajar and brows lifted in absolute surprise. “Oh shit” was the only thing he could say.

Whining softly from your seat, he reluctantly moved his head to watch you introduce his fingers to the pleasure of your flesh. You then extended your arms, cautiously reaching for his legs and caressed it intently. His eyes blinked rapidly, as he turned his head back to face the road, refusing to look back. His mouth is still hanging from the air, as his head floats in uncertainty mixed with pure ecstacy.

No one asked but, really, this is what you meant by taking matters into your own hand.

It took him a minute to process what was happening, and as such, he began to return the favor. Now free from your control, he started pressing his finger on your sensitive bud and stroked it gently. He bit his lip right after he heard you moaned, “...Yoongi”

“Fuck” he suddenly saw the traffic light turn red to green. He slowly stepped on the gas pedal,  careful enough to prevent you being thrown from your seat again. He was now steering the wheel with one hand as he flicked your clit with the other at a steady pace. As acknowledgement on being gratified, you opened your legs wider.

He was game.

Yoongi briefly pulled his hands away from you to maneuver the car smoothly on the highway. He grunted at the view of another sight of flooded red lights. He wanted to get home so bad. All he could think of was to get on the bed with you with his cock finally warmed. But the highway had led this poor man’s dreams down in an instant.

Though, you refused to concede to the situation. You are willing to put up a fight against the status quo, ready to deny the world from preventing yours and Yoongi’s happiness from dying each second. Thus, like a good employee of this capitalistic world, you turn this deplorable event from liability to an asset: making this a great opportunity for you and Yoongi to bond closer. (Albeit, a different kind of bonding, that is)

As soon as he stepped on the brakes, you pulled out your seatbelt and moved towards his direction “Your car is heavily tinted right?” you asked while probing the cars around you from your window.

“Yeah, why?” He asked while putting back his hands to your slit, continuing to flick your bud, now significantly fast. You decided to turn it up a notch as you reached for the button of his pants. Slowly, unbuttoning it and pulling his zipper down. He started to pant, nervous to hear you reply.

“Safety first…” You then helped him shift the gear to neutral, and began pulling his pants and boxer roughly half way.

He groaned as he watched you grasp his stiff length, stroking it slow. “Is this what you meant when you asked if my car is tinted?” he quickly jerked his head up to check if the vicinity is safe, then briefly saw you nod your head to a ‘Yes’.

He choked when he sensed his tip poke on to your lips. It didn’t take a while for you to hear him moan when he felt his tip finally pressed the entrance of your mouth, gradually moving down on your tongue and on to your inner cheek. The warmth and wetness you’re giving him puts him in immediate joy.

He hissed at the sight of you taking him whole, and helped you fix your hair by putting it to the side, letting you breathe easy while you bob your head “Nngh… Y/N”

“Like that?” you part a bit and kissed his tip.

“Why do you keep asking the obvious?” he faintly chuckled as he tossed his head from his seat, right when he felt your tongue move from the bottom shaft and up to its head. Then quickly downed on him entirely again. His eyebrow creased automatically, as if contemplating today’s wisdom from the universe that all ‘good things come to those who wait’. He concentrated on that note like a mantra, as he shut his eyes tight.

Even when you were giving him a head, he was still kind enough to help you keep your hair away from your face. Holding it fairly light, trying not to pull. If this isn’t a gentleman thing to do, then I do not know what is.

“Y/N” He began sliding his two fingers in, which left you half giggling and panting at the immediate contact.

“Mm, you are doing me good hm?” you asked while stroking him slowly and watching his eyes closed, barely breathing as he mentally called to thank the universe for being blessed by you “You can add another finger if you want…”

“Damn, you are so hot…” His eyes then lit up, biting his lip and grinning with pride, thus displaying his perfect gummy smile that takes you to greater heights every time he does. “Yeah… I really appreciate your honesty, thank you for telling me you are horny” he replied as he prods his fingers in, progressively fast. Candidly making you clench and moan his name at the same time.

And like a good co-worker, you went back to hustle. Starting from the bottom to his top.

The tightness of your mouth in his shaft, the smell of your sweet perfume, the sound of his fingers squelching inside your very core, and the sight of you taking him whole, like a prized lollipop. Oh, and the fact that he pulled his (now) three fingers out from you to have a little taste…Yes, he nodded to himself. Licking every side of his fingers as if eating at KFC. Indeed, ‘it is finger licking good’.

It became apparent that all his senses were being satisfied when you finally felt him start to shiver. Everything was met, everything was good, everything became so overwhelming for Yoongi that even with his lids close, he can still see the light shine from heaven.

He gasped, leaving him marveled at your greatness by giving him a very good head. In fact, he found it so admirable that you start to feel him throb. Evidently, he is coming.

You were so good, that he barely withholds himself from coming. Along with the fact that he became unaware that his elbow accidentally hit the switch to dwindle down the window. “Fuck!” he writhed, thrusting his hip up spurting hard in your mouth.

“Yo, Casanova! Your windows are down!” The driver on the other side shouted.

His eyes widened, still sporadically shuddering from his high. “Shit!” He quickly pushed the button to raise his windows while his other hand pulled his pants and boxers up (at the least he managed to put his boxers up while in hurry, now 80% covering his ass) only it was too late.

Resisting to swallow his cum, you began to pull yourself up from your seat and look for a tissue stashed somewhere inside your bag. Upon seeing your head pop from below though, it didn’t take long for the other driver to discern what just happened.

“Nasty” was the last thing Yoongi heard from the grinning stranger before he finally put his window back up. Now completely shielded from his embarrassment.

Just then the traffic light turned red to green. Yoongi quickly hit the gas. Staying in this traffic was definitely the last thing he wanted to be in. He then thoughtfully swore to be mindful of his surroundings next time when another opportunity like this came, or maybe he would never (It’s too soon to decide)

But one thing is for sure, he swore he can never drive and see this road the same way ever again. Thanks to you.

--

A lilac lacy bra resting on his lampshade, matched silken panty hanging on the side of his headboard, black pants stuck in the middle of his bedroom door, an empty packet of condom on the edge of the bed, and his brief dangling, which managed somehow to reach on top his his TV.

Sitting with his legs crossed, his back resting on a pile of pillows with his hands supporting your weight. He happily watched you grind on him with great effort for a full whole blown minute. “Y/N” humming your name, in between his grunt.

“Yoongi” you recited his name in return like litany, hands gripping on his bare shoulders as you tossed your head back in trance.

“Fuck…” he began to propel his hips against you, meeting your every movement. One of his hands sneaked its way to your breasts cupping each and kneading it gently.

“Yoongi” you repeated, calling his name, spreading your legs wider to find your balance and continuing to roll your hips in synchrony with his. For a moment, the sound of slapping skin was all you could hear until it syncopated by his heavy breathing. He pushed himself close to you, hands now reaching towards your clit. Stroking and flicking it concurrently in full earnest.  

His head suddenly fell on to your shoulder, his gasp becoming audibly clear sending you into utter frenzy. In response, you pulled yourself back and began nibbling his ear, light and soft. He moaned. Yes, the kind that reverberates, delivering you to the edge. Thus reaching your high.

He snickered after hearing you whimper “For someone who initiated everything, I honestly thought you could last. I didn’t know just the sound of me moaning can send you to peak?”

With your mouth still open, you grimaced at his snide remark “Lie down, why don’t you? Let’s see if I can take you with me?”

“No need to, I’ll come any time soon” he tilts his head to the side and kisses you, simultaneously thrusting in haste. His sudden reflex jolts you in another course of delirium. As his movements became erratic, you held on tight to his shoulders taking it as a cue to give each other one final push to reach both your climax.

“Y/N…” He gagged as he squinted his eyes hard. Together, you both curse at the sensation, and deeply sighing together after hitting the zenith. You both lie down at the same time, panting. For a while it was silent, as if both of you were taking time to ponder on life in general like a hermit sage.

“…. Is this going to be a regular thing?” he suddenly asked, shifting on his bed to face the ceiling. Finally, he was asking the important question.

“Sure. You mean no strings attached right?” moving your body to face him.

He then pursed his lip to say something but quickly retracted. He figured he needed to ask it, so he just let it roll. A necessary query, he thought. “Is this going to be exclusive or….”

“Let’s not kid ourselves and make things easier for us, so no. Exclusive is quite foreign territory for me. Although I can still be monogamous, that is if you want it to… but don’t push okay? I can only go for a short period” you stretched your arm and rolled to the edge, taking the liberty to take his bottled water from the bedside table and drink.

“No, no, it’s okay. As long as we keep using protection, I guess that’s fine. We can see other people on the side, while we keep in touch? I think it’s a pretty fair deal…”

“It’s a good deal” you pointed out as he nodded in agreement.

“But what if one of us isn’t up for it any longer? Do we tell or do we not tell? Because honestly I’ll hope you’d pick the forme-- ”

“Latter” you quickly replied before he finished the word ‘Former’

He chuckled, and shook his head in disbelief with your reply.

“Fine, I can adjust. I totally understand that this isn’t just about me, so in all fairness, I’ll agree to your demands. But you have to agree with mine”

“That is?” He sat back up and pulled out his soiled condom, knotted it first before throwing it in the trash bin.

“Give me your number” you opened your palm to his direction

“Well, I thought you’d never ask” he picked up his cellphone he left from the edge of his bed, while you combed down on the floor to find yours. You two then exchange phones and enter each other’s number, and return it back. “That was easy” he raised one eyebrow smirking at you.

“With that, we can um… reach each other wherever, whenever” you pressed your lips together and gave him a smile.

He nodded “Sure, but only if you wanted”

“Only if you wanted it too” you replied, cordially mimicking his head.

“Everything sound’s good to me” he shrugged “So, Deal?” he stuck his hand out to you and you took it. “Deal” you both shook it, sealing the agreement.

--

Seesaw. It is one of your favorite playground activities. You enjoy the momentary high and the unpredictability of being dropped down. Although more than anything, you adore the power play. You get the euphoria from being intrigued, guessing each time who gets to take the upper hand.

You love taking predictions, you love calculating, but above all you love to wager. You wanted a brief scare from losing, only to shift the leverage to your favor. For you, Seesaw is a game of dominance. And in the game of dominance, of course you like to be the one in control.

Even when you were little you were so engrossed at that thought, obsessing to declare yourself to be the winner. You were so competitive, that it made you fall on a sandbox one time, when you were playing with your next-door neighbor, Hee-joon.

Seeing from afar, your father quickly ran to you and held you close for comfort. Although when he was dressing your bruises, you remember vividly how he warns you not to cry in front of boys, because little boys always relish seeing a weak girl cry. You always have to emerge as the victor at all times. Hence, you never did. Even now as an adult. You fight back, you always do.

That’s why Hee-joon grew up hating you, because the last time you two played Seesaw again, you managed to put him up above and watched him revel in the air. Until he realized you refused to put him back down, not until he cried. You watched him weep and plead above you. Only then you decided to put him down when his mother came. To say the least, your mother was upset with your action, but your father felt proud.

Seesaw is the game that taught you how to take the highs and lows, but more than anything, it taught you how to be the one in supreme.

Every time you deal with men, you remember every word your father told you. As such, when you reached the epiphany that love is nothing but just an illusion, you decided to take things to the sheets instead. You’d rather be engulfed with pleasure rather than unnecessary emotions under the guise of romance.

And yet, somehow deep within you, you were too scared to admit the rationale why you vehemently refuse to lose. Because at the time when you fell and your father ran to you, you saw it in his eyes. He was looking at you, fearful to see someone he loves dearly be in so much pain. He was terrified to let you know how far the depths of a wound can go, until you can no longer feel… and you’re afraid to know it too.

It is the precise reason why, right now, you are watching Yoongi cover his face on a Sunday morning. Leading him to his high, watching him revel in absolute bliss, under him… literally. Yoongi pleaded for you to stop giving him another god-tier head, and let him breathe easy, before you could deliver him any further to his overdrive. While you indeed followed his plea by halting, you decided to tease him a little by pulling yourself up from the covers and went on top of him. You took his wrist and pressed his palms against your bare chest.

“Wait” he paused as he sat up and furtively looked for a condom in his drawer. “Thank God, we still have one last…” he pulled out the shiny foil packet. You took it from his hand and helped him put the rubber on.

And just like that, Yoongi again was on a roll. For the past few weeks, neither of you resisted sex. Monday night? On your couch. Wednesday? On his kitchen counter. Friday after work? Inside his car on a dark alleyway. Saturday night? Inside his shower. Now Sunday, back on his bed.

Sex with Yoongi is great, but you already expect that.

But just like a play of Seesaw, you know that this kind of arrangement will definitely have some highs and lows. You know that one day, you and Yoongi’s sex drive will decline, frequent calls will become rare, until it’s gone. So, keep them coming right? Not that you are worried, but really what is there to lose? Especially if the sex is good and you two are on an equilibrium, like that in the game.

Well, not until Friday.

---

“Hey, good work!” someone tapped your shoulder lightly after closing the meeting room, you turned around to see who it was.

“Oh, Hoseok. Thanks!” you grinned, happy to see one of your best friends attend your team’s presentation for a Cereal Company. You’ve known Hoseok since college, and even worked with him on your first job. Even if both of you left and went to a different company now, you two still find time to catch up. It just so happens that you two are now working on the same project.

Dipping your head a little low, you whispered to his direction “I was genuinely surprised to know you work for this company, I thought you hated their cereals?”

“Unfortunately, beggars can’t choose” he replied softly as you nodded in agreement, while walking with him on the office hallway towards the elevator lobby “Great to know they promoted you as the Event’s Manager huh?”

“As long as they pay me well, I can manage whatever shit the world throws at me,” you said, twitching your lip to the side and shrugging, making Hoseok hysterical.

“Cheers to being a slave for money”

“Cheers” you both tossed an imaginary goblet from each of your hands when suddenly, you heard your phone buzzing, so did his. Both of you stopped from the elevator lobby to read the message. You rolled your eyes “Seems your boss and my boss are going to announce their engagement?”

He chuckled, “I’m pretty sure they’re straight, Y/N. But I can’t come to this ‘Night After-Work Drink’…” he put his phone back in his pocket after reading it.

“Aw, C’mon it’s going to be the weekend tomorrow! Plus, I’m going to introduce you to my colleagues, we’ll have fun! Just come, let’s go Hoseok! Don’t leave me alone, please?” you whined before him, trying your hardest to convince one of your closest friends to come by using your pleading charm.

Hoseok just stared at you and breathed.

“Why? Have you not forgiven me for that time I accidentally left my hairbrush on your car and your ex thought you were cheating on her? Hence, leaving me now on my own to suffer?”

You stepped forward to face Hoseok before he could enter the elevator with you.

He rolls his eyes “Still dramatic as always. I told you, that’s been long forgotten. Besides, I am dating someone new”

“Oh” you said inaudibly, finding Hoseok slightly displeased with your overly critical reaction.

“Hey, I know that face!” he narrowed his eyes while expressing his distaste to see your silent retort “And no, I have no plans in introducing you to her… Yet! Not until we’ve established whatever we are” he continued while pressing the elevator to the ground floor.

“Hm, still sounds trouble to me”

“We’ve only known each other for a week, Y/N. Give her some slack.”

“Then why are you cancelling extra working hours? When can you drink to your heart's content, hm? Beer will taste good, especially if you’re not the one paying” you bobbed your brows and smug “Just admit it Hoseok, she got you wrapped around her fingers. I told you, you can’t do this on a regular. Women like a little chase…”

“First of all, we’re not paid to kiss ass. Second, you also hated the idea of having to go there too and third, she’s not like you…”

You opened your mouth, clearly taken aback to hear his remark. Hoseok quickly clarified “I meant to say, you’re frighteningly the almost perfect girl…but she’s not the fooling type.”

“That’s what we all say, that’s what we all want you to believe Hoseok...” You retort incredulously “it’s better be uncompromising forthright than give you false hope. Go choose!”

Hoseok sighed deeply “Look, one day you are going to meet someone who will probably prove to you that not all men are shit.” he said while crossing his arms and stared at you, admonishingly.

“I already did. I have you” you pouted. The elevator stopped as Hoseok waited for you to step out first then followed.

“Besides me” leading you now to his car in the parking lot. His eyes flickered as he remembered something… or someone “Know what? there’s Seokjin-hyung”

“Oh, you mean Seokjin the half-god from the Film Department, in our Uni? Seokjin is infinitely out of question. Have you seen his latest drama on TV? Park Bo-gum even sent a coffee truck to congratulate him” You sighed resentfully.

“How’d you know?”

“Instagram. Okay don’t judge”

Hoseok chuckled, stopping at his car to turn it open with his car keys “I clearly am doing it right now”

“Technically, he is untouchable. You’ve seen how the girls reacted then when they saw me and him together on a couch? When we were literally just talking about Chinese Philosophy class during that frat party. And like some teen-romcom movie, rumors started to fly the next day and they multiplied by the hour” You opened the door to his passenger seat and secured yourself with a seatbelt.

“Easy A. It’s Easy A.” He stressed as he entered and adjusted the side mirror’s on the driver’s seat .

“The difference between you and Seokjin are that we’re friends… and he and I just happened to be in one class”

He starts the engine of his car, offering to drive you all the way to the bar where your team is having this week’s celebration “My point is… theoretically speaking, that there are men who are as nice, like he is. Plus, he knows those nasty rumors weren’t true. Won’t you forgive those girls?”

“They’re basically my creators? Shouldn’t this present slut thank them instead?”

“You and I both know you were once a college prude, and you never slept with any of those rumored men… Seokjin-hyung knows the truth. Even if he was conscripted to the list, unlike other men who took advantage of that, he fervently denied”

“Because that’s the truth. We never slept, Hoseok. Above every one, you know I didn’t have the guts. Wow, I am still not sure whether to feel offended or happy about it. Am I not worth it?”

“Y/N, seriously? Seokjin’s a true gentleman, that’s it. That’s the tea. I can even swear he was into you that time, until her groupies held an emergency meeting to evilly conspire against you… I’m actually glad they’ve been dealt with. This is why we can’t have nice things”

“Hoseok, okay, granted that he and I ended up dating each other back then… It is still going to fail because lov-- ”

He started to turn on the radio, loudly “What? I can’t hear you! Know what? Have a talk with your pessimism when you get to the bar. Here, I’ll even give you extra money so you could offer it a few more drinks” he pulled a few coins from his pocket and handed it over to you.

You chuckled, batting your eyes to his direction “Aw, ever the romantic Hoseok. Well, keep them I’ll collect it soon enough”

“She is going to be great, Y/N. Don’t jinx it!”

--

“Fuck capitalism!” your boss shouted.

“Fuck capitalism!” you all repeated and shouted it while drinking another shot all together.

“Y/N! Lara! Do that soju bomb thing together!” Your boss suddenly made his way to sourpuss the night by ordering you two to do a party trick which is gravely against your will.

Lara gave you a look and you just shrugged, telepathically and ironically accepting defeat from capitalism itself, by giving in at your boss’s request. You two were compelled to act normal as if nothing happened. Honestly, no one really needs to know about you, her, and canker Joe. As a matter of fact, you don’t want anyone to know that you tried to sleep with canker Joe from your office. Besides, didn’t Lara hide the fact that he was seeing Joe too? Maybe she was too embarrassed about him as well. Regardless, he is definitely a thing in the past and should be kept inside a box, six-feet underground for good.

“Hey!” Lara plastered a smile and handed you the glasses, as usual, to prepare both your famous tricks.

“Hey, hey!” you faked cheered as well as you helped her open more beers to spray on each glass, half filling the glass. Lara then filled each shot glass with a fair amount of soju, while you meticulously placed them strategically close so by the time you shove one, the other shot glass would follow like dominoes (dropping to beer glass like a bomb).

This never fails to amaze your boss for some reason, to see you two do it each time, much to you and Lara’s chagrin. Truthfully, if you’re being asked, you two would wish you weren’t forced to entertain anyone outside office just to have a favorable treatment by the day.

“Y/N” your boss called as he pulled out a newly opened bottle of soju to your direction, handing out your glass politely to him as a reflex. “You really did a great job with your presentation; I really like it! Don’t be too shy alright? You deserve to celebrate!”

“Thank you, sir,” you turned away from his direction and downed the alcohol in one go, respectfully showing everyone on the table that you’ve accepted the harsh reality of the need to kiss ass so you could get cash.

“Too bad, Hoseok’s not here. He’ll probably have fun” Hoseok’s boss, who joined your team, commented while watching you have another at your boss’s behest. You nodded to his direction, to feign agreement. Considering the amount of alcohol he could bear in a single night, of course not, he definitely would not have fun.

“Y/N” someone murmured on the table, after your boss moved his attention to the recently hired employees. You turned around and saw Lara staring at you “Y/N” she repeated.

“Yeah?” you raised an eyebrow clearly befuddled to hear her and have your attention.

“I know you can’t handle alcohol well, just gently decline next time he offers. He has more people to oppress now” she lowered herself so you could hear her clearer and puck her lips subtly to point at the poor new recruits.

“Oh, I thought you said you didn’t want to be friends with a slut like me? Are we also going to pretend I didn’t hear that too?” you whispered back

“Whatever, just don’t come hurling at everybody and then throw up”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you”

She was right. She’s always right. By the time you downed an nth shot of soju or whatever it is they gave you (and add that fancy cocktail you wanted to try on their menu) your surroundings gradually revolve and appeared hazy. Somehow, you decided to take drunken shots of the bar and record random moments for you to post something on your social media account. Nothing too wild or nasty, just enough to flash for your friends online that you were having a great time on another Friday night.

“Y/N, is it okay if you come with me to the restroom and help with something?” Lara asked distinctly from her seat, loud enough to hear your superiors to cut you lose from drinking.

You nodded submissively, plopping down from the stool and followed Lara. By the time you two arrived at the girl’s restroom you quickly went into the nearest cubicle and threw yourself against the toilet and vomited.

“I told you so, even Hannah Montana can’t get the best of both worlds. Y/N, stop acting tough.” She crouched down and held your hair up while patting your back.

“I’m feeling fantastic Lara!” you deadpan reply while wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Okay, you are welcome” she rolled her eyes while burrowing something from your bag, then you heard something thud. Suddenly everything went blank.

--

The smell of musk, leather and a little bit of smoke. The feeling of the heat of a skin nudging on your nose. Your hands pressed against someone else’s chest, and the air breezing under the soles of your feet, as if you were levitating. You blinked your eyes twice and opened it wide from your stupor… finding yourself in the middle of the busy street of Itaewon.

You shook your head a little and realized you were resting on someone’s back. “Don’t move too much, you are starting to get heavy?” said someone in a timbre filled with objection.

You knew that voice, and you knew that scent too well too “Yoongi?” you asked weakly.

“Are you gonna throw up? Just tell me…”

“Yoongi, why are you…” you shook your head, that wasn’t the right question “Why are we here?”

“You butt-dialled me, it’s been so long since you called so I thought you’d invite me over but I only heard random noises then it ended… Until you began sending me weird pictures in the dark. So, I was kind of worried and called… But it was your officemate who answered and just told me to come pick you up”

“My what?” you asked, trying to process everything you heard.

“Know what? You’re too drunk to have this conversation and so I’m just going to take you home. Don’t move too much, you are slipping” he paused for a moment while he jerked to keep him adjusted to the weight that he is carrying. “Cutie from the 18th floor huh?” you heard him snickered as he asked.

“You saw my phone?”

“No, your officemate told me. Actually she asked me if I was ‘Cutie from the 18th floor?’ She apologized instantly because she didn’t know how to address me when I came to the bar to pick you up”

“Okay, that’s it. Put me down!” you tried to shimmy your body away from him

“Are you sure about that? She took your shoes from you; said she’ll leave it on your desk tomorrow”

“God…Must be Lara…”

“Is she the best friend you told me about before?”

“Yeah…”

“She’s worried about you”

“Mmm. Right.” You shut your eyes from the blinding neon lights passing from your sight.

“…Hold on to me tight” he reminded, as you reluctantly wrapped your arms around him while he trudged with you on his back.

In clear disorientation, right in the midst of the crowd, you wonder—why above all things, he is carrying you home without any question. Slowly, you closed your eyes and sighed while clutching on his chest a little bit tighter. You rest your head again on his shoulder, burrowing your nose on the fabric of his shirt. (Not to be weird, but if someone demanded what you’re doing at a gun point you wouldn’t think twice confessing that he genuinely smells so good, and that’s the whole reason) Somehow, whatever this was, it made you feel at ease.

And he wasn’t complaining.

--

“Y/N…Y/N” Yoongi rouse you from your mini-slumber “We’re here, we’re at your front door” He gently put you down on the floor and help you stand upright, waiting for you to enter your apartment so he could drop you home with his conscience at peace.

You crouched down and narrowed your eyes while pressing on the numbers on your door lock, offering it with great effort.

‘Access Denied’ it buzzed.

“Shit!” cursing on your poor concentration to get it right.

Yoongi sighed “Whisper me the number code, and I’ll do it for you”

“What? And enter any time while I’m sleeping?” you replied while unnecessarily glaring at him.

“Okay, that’s it… I can leave you here or you can stay at my place…” he put his waist on each side of his waist, like an old lady giving you an ultimatum.

“Fine... it’s wait…” You pointed a finger to Yoongi and pulled out your phone, pressing down the number sequence on the screen but in full labor. Yoongi, who was losing the endmost ounce of his patience, finally pulled you up to drag you back to the elevator lobby of your floor.

“Okay, okay, it’s 5991!” you spoke harshly, demanding him to put you down. Yoongi quickly turned around, to see if anyone heard. Fortunately, no one was around your hallway to hear you blurt your code so casually. He then swiftly pressed the numbers and opened your door and pulled you in.

“Oh! I forgot my RFID is on my wallet” you raised your hand belatedly after being dragged by Yoongi inside your apartment “Wait, what? You could’ve told me this earlier!” he groaned in utmost frustration, while helping pull your blazer off and beginning to question his choices in life.

“Yoongi” you grin at him with your eyes barely open “it’s been a while yeah? I miss your cock! Let’s have sex!” you squeaked quite happily. He then dropped you pretty harshly on the bed, not that you mind since you were too inebriated to care. “Mmm. Are you into rough play tonight Mr. Hit-song Producer, sir?” You reached for him, tracing your fingers against his shirt.

“I’m not…” he replied directly, rejecting your advances while he turned away from you busily searching for something. “… unfortunately for you miss, I don’t get turned on with drunken girls on the bed. Scurry over and try to seat on your back on the head board”

Obediently, you followed his demands despite not making sense, or at least because you are too drunk to comprehend anything. You shut your eyes waiting for him to do something to you until you felt something damp on your face “Yoongi?” you slowly opened your eyes.

“I am taking the liberty…Close your eyes” he asked sternly. It was beginning to make sense now.

“Are you helping me clean up?” you asked, feeling him gently brush your eyes with a damp facial cotton. “How’d you know which one is a makeup remover?”

“I’m not dumb, Y/N. I can read” he adjusted himself to mildly take your mascara off you. Flustered, you begin to turn your head slightly away from him. As if in a snap, the effect of alcohol was beginning to wane. Just because of the thought that Yoongi was doing things for you that you never expected. “Y/N, look I’m trying!” he clicked his tongue by pressing his thumb and index finger on your chin, securing you steadily “I heard, it’s not good to sleep with a makeup on… there’s a good chance you’ll turn blind from bacteria build-up if this is left unclean for hours”

“Says, who?” trying to dissipate the towering feeling of being embarrassed. “Your ex?”

“No, the idols I get to work with who came in late. They were trying to justify their tardiness because of their face after a night of drinking. Honestly, who cares? They have a lot of fans who love them”

“It’s a girl thing, you’ll never understand”

Smoothing another batch of damp cotton on your cheeks, he finished the conversation by telling you “Well, I do. You are pretty even without it…” he said while dabbing one last time on the side of your lips until you felt his thumb pressed on the edge of your lips.

Yoongi froze, did he just? He started to wonder. You slowly opened your eyes to see his face close to yours, just a few inches away from each other's lips. He cleared his throat and immediately shifted himself away from you again, keeping distance. “Good night, Y/N”

You watched him turn his back and dimmed the lights off your room, leaving only with a soft glimmer from your bedside lamp. Feeling stunned at the chain of events, you cowered down to see your clothes still on and your chest beating heavily. You jerked and shook your head reminding yourself that ‘No, we refuse to be your victim, Yoongi’. Then you felt it, clearly your body is still jaded, realizing on its own that you still had too much alcohol in your system. So, you tried to hurry over to your bathroom, only to find your face falling flat on the floor.

Gratefully, Yoongi hasn’t completely left you yet. When he heard, he abruptly went to check on you in your room. “Just how many have you had?” he helped you up and hiked you over to the toilet. You immediately hurled yourself to it and threw whatever you had in you. He groaned mournfully, while patting your back. He knew the answer to his queries, he’s going to need to stay by your place for the night.

And he did, but on your couch. He thought, it would be awkward to be placing himself beside you on your bed if you two are not having sex. Thankfully, your couch had enough space for him to lie down, yet he couldn’t seem to find his sleep. Not when he began questioning himself as to why you had him worried for the night, he shifts to the side staring blankly on your ceiling deeply sighing at the thought. He wished he knew.

--

The sound of fizzle, the touch of your dried lips, and the scent of butter, emanating from the kitchen towards your room. All of those, woke your senses. You looked at your phone and find it’s 7am on Saturday. Normally, Hoseok would gladly walk into your apartment to send you over hung-over foods, but guessing at the fact that he’d be with a lady friend you assumed he’d be unavailable for you in a time of need…. And cooking? Hoseok cooking? For the longest time you two had been together as friends, he never once attempted to put himself in the kitchen. So what changes?

You took your satin robe and swiftly wrapped it around to see who it was in your kitchen. You ran out of your room with a pillow on your hand and shrieked at the familiar figure. It was Yoongi cooking in your kitchen

He pulled out his airpods and asked “What, were you calling me?”

“No, I just… I didn’t expect you’d still... be here…Are you cooking?”

“Um, yeah, why are you always asking the obvious?” he knitted his brows, eyes darting from left to right, perplexed to even answer your query. “Look, why don’t you sit down and let Chef Min do the cooking for today”

You silently sat on your island stool and watched him prepare food. “Is this what you do to everyone you sleep with?”

He stifled a smile and pursed his lips to think. “I wish I did. Unfortunately, no. Just you, for now”

You folded your arm and poked your tongue from the inside of your cheek “Well you can’t do this…”

“Huh?” He asked with his back to you, busily chopping more onions and garlic then mixing it to the cooking pan.

“Rules.”

“Rules? What part of the agreement is cooking prohibited? If my memory serves me right, you failed to mention it, so I guess this is pretty legal”

“Okay, fair point. Then why are you doing this? On my apartment, on my kitchen, on my food? Is it all for me?”

Yoongi was taken aback, but he needed to answer promptly “What, you think I’m starting to like you more than a neighbor… with benefits?” he scoffed “Such confidence, woman” he turned around to snicker, playfully flailing his arm with a cooking chopstick on hand.

“I’m sorry but I can’t help it” you merrily bemoan in retrospect and shrugged. “Didn’t you say you’ve always fancied me?”

“Naked, I fancied you naked” he corrected.

“I don’t know, sounds the same to me” You watched him perfectly toss the food while cooking, like a pro. “Hmm, impressive. Are you trying to make me weak on my knees?”

“Well, are you?” he asked stoically, as he turned the stove off and finally served you a hung-over breakfast he made out from the ingredients available in your refrigerator.

“Almost, but not quite” you playfully bite your lip, fretfully eating your smile.

“You’re welcome for the breakfast Y/N” he winked, putting his share on a plate and sat on a stool right in front of you.

“Thank you, Chef Min Yoongi” you ducked your head, to tamper down whatever you were feeling in the morning. You weren’t a prayerful person but today you decided to whisper one from your seat. You needed it, a whole of it, before chowing down your freshly cooked food made by the Chef himself in front of you. Testing you by the minute.

He watched you while you shut your eyes and chant something inaudibly, and without you knowing-- he smiled.

--

“Min PD nim?” one of the staff knocked on his door. Yoongi, as usual, was busy listening to the tracks he made from last week now that it is back to being Monday again.

“Han Young-woo-ssi said he wanted to talk to you sir…”

“Oh, what about?” He abruptly stopped and turned to face her.

“It sounded like it’s a personal matter sir… so I didn’t ask him any further. He is waiting outside your office sir, would you like me to tell him to come back after lunch?”

He shook his head “No-no, it’s fine. I am a little bit stressed too, I was just looking for the right lyrics to the melody but maybe talking to him might help” he went out from his seat and decided to see his visitor from the same company but in the Accounting department. Was it about his demands against the company for paying for his daily coffee needs? Or was it about denying his request to fund him for another set stereos?

“Yoongi! My friend!” Young-woo delightedly extends his arm to give him a quick hug and pat on his back.

“Hey Han!” he sat on the couch and Young-woo followed, sitting on a chair adjacent to Yoongi.

“What brings you here?”

“Well, I saw you last Saturday night in the streets of Itaewon”

He chuckled “Yeah, I decided to do some carrying as part of my daily workout routine”

Young-woo nods solemnly “I know the person you were carrying. She’s bad news…”

He furrowed his eyebrows, pausing for a moment to comprehend the sudden change of his tone.

“I knew her from college, she’s been sleeping with a lot of men... maybe until now. Just avoid her if you can. She might give you STDs or something… Just stop Yoongi. I don’t know if it’s because she slept with Seokjin? Which probably made her impertinently bold and decides to slut around”

Yoongi thwarted him from finishing his sentence. “Seokjin? You mean Kim Seokjin?”

“Yes, your high school best friend and my frat brother, Seokjin. Did he never tell you about her?”

“He mentioned a few girls, but I don’t remember her being mentioned at all.”

“Well, I guess it’s because she’s not worth mentioning”

Yoongi pressed his fingers on his temple “Do you really see girls that way, Young-woo?”

Young-woo was left fazed at his question “I-Uh…”

“Cut to the chase Young-woo, I have a lot of things on my table. It’s not my cup of tea to entertain sexist conversation especially during working hours…”

“I’m just warning you. As friend, that’s it”

“Well, if that’s all there is” He stood up and tilted his head, locking his gaze against Young-woo fervently “I’m an adult who knows exactly what I’m doing. It’s none of your business who I want to deal with day and night, unless it’s about work. I appreciate you being worried and all, but clearly at the end of the day I’ll be responsible with who and when I’ll be fucked and who gets to fuck me over.”

Young-woo conceded and sighs from his seat “I love your tenacity, my friend. But she is different from the girls you used to date, especially your ex” he stood up and walked towards the hallway

Yoongi just nodded. “Okay, but that’s the whole point, isn’t it? Past remains in the past. Live in the present brother, worry about your future... not mine. Well there goes the exit door, if that’s really all you have to say to me. I don’t like entertaining sexism as a visitor” he points him through the exit door as he watches Young-woo leave.

He rolled his eyes, regretting the fact that he gave Young-woo his precious time so conveniently, just to listen to a back story he was clearly uninterested in. What’s the point really? If everyone is living now in the present, what’s there to huddle over in the past? One thing’s for sure, he’s going to spend a few more minutes at the receiving area to look at his phone and find some inspiration over his social media.

Randomly scrolling, he ended up in Seokjin’s profile, entertaining himself with his random pictures with witty captions, illustrations of cute alpacas and his daily dad jokes on his Instagram stories. His eyes suddenly widened when he shifted it to the next photograph and saw a familiar face from Seokjin’s story.

“Was it true?” he breathed.

--

“Yeah, that sounds about right, I assure you Madame Song. Tomorrow is going to be epic” you nodded.

“I’m looking forward to it Ms. Y/N” she giggled, standing up from her seat, ready to leave.

You did the same and bowed before your client, displaying your gratitude and respect. You took a quick glance from the window beside the seat and saw the sun glaring hard on the pavement “Are you sure, is it really okay if you leave right now? Didn’t you say you just had your facial? The sun is pretty hard. Do you at least have an umbrella?”

“Oh, do you? Sorry I forgot mine, can I borrow? I promise to return it to you tomorrow” she asked a bit warily. Of course, they never do.

“Sure” you pulled out your foldable umbrella from your bag and handed it to her.

“Thanks dear. Oh, if you must, bring your plus one” she winked.

You dropped your head and chuckled “C’mon Madame Song, you know I don’t do plus one. I’ll ask Lara to cover that for me instead”

She paused. Her attention was momentarily stolen by something, or someone in front of the cafe window “Well, why don’t you go ask him?” she puckered her lips and pointed out towards the man entering inside the café from its door way.

“What?” you chuckled in disbelief “I can’t just go ask a random stranger and tell-- ” you turned around to see who she was referring to, until you stopped mid-sentence choking on your words.

A man in black shirt, black leather jacket, and a black baseball cap? It must be….

“Seokjin?”

He turned around to see who was calling him “Y/N?” He raised both his brows in genuine surprise.

“Mm...Seems, everything’s pretty planned out now don’t you think?” Madame Song whispered to you close before leaving you on your own. Grinning from ear to ear, knowing she made a lucky guess to find you a prospect date, who isn’t after all a stranger.

“Hey, it’s been so long! It’s nice to see you here!”

“Must be cupid’s work, huh?” Madame Song winked at you both as she left the cafe with your umbrella. You shook your head a little, embarrassed to hear her tease. Then faced the half-god handsome man before you.

You sat back on your chair and offered Seokjin the vacant seat on the front.

“Hm, I honestly don’t know what to say to that, are you working? Was she a client?” he watched you write something down on your planner for a moment.

“Yeah, and we just finished” you clicked the pen and threw your arms up to stretch “and now I can relax. What’s up Kim?”

“Ikseon-dong is where I usually take my walk for coffee and look for inspiration.I like it here, it’s traditional and yet still a very relevant place” he turned around to look at the menu board, attached above on the counter.

“Ah, I see you’re working too…” you nodded. “You know their dirty chai latte is pretty good.” You pointed it out. “So, how’s your agency treating you? I’ve seen you in TDN channel the other night, and got to the scene where you were crying after being left by Park Shin Hye… that was pretty moving”

He laughed with his eyes wrinkling, charming as always. “It was hard convincing myself to cry over a fictional argument revolving over me leaving a Peanut Butter open for long...”

“In her defense, she thought you were cheating on her over Yoon Eun Hye. But before replying to that, tell me who you will end up with, is it her or Yoon Eun Hye? Because if you asked me Yoon Eun Hye might be evil, but I totally understand where she's coming from. So yeah, I’m Team Yoon Eun Hye all the way!” You lowered yourself on the table and leaned towards him.

He squints his eyes and went forward “Not if you watch until the last episode, or you could bribe me with the most expensive thing on the menu”

You shot at him and sighed “Fine, you leave me no choice Mister Celebrity, sir. One Eggs Benedict and House Coffee, on me” he chuckled, knowing fully that those were the cheapest on the menu.

“It’s nice to know you didn’t change at all, Y/N” he gulped and smiled at you.

“Oh yeah? Don’t be disappointed if you found it to be untrue.” You stood up and ordered something for your old flame, well almost… or so you would like to think, if it wasn’t for his groupies who extinguished before it even began.

You two tried to catch on a lot of things, while taking a few photos together. Seokjin has an insane amount of following, compared to the number he had back in college (but was still considerably huge). Yet he wasn’t bothered at all, he still posted whatever he pleased.

Although he was now hyper-aware of everything online, especially the fact that some things might get him in trouble or even getting others into trouble. He made sure to explain things about what was happening in his caption before posting anything. Just to spare them from unnecessary and unfounded hate from his fans.

“Fancy bumping to a college friend *insert smiley emoji*” he said out loud while mindlessly typing it as he hit the post button.

“Why didn’t you put a sticker on my face?”

“Why should I? I already spare you from being tagged. That way, you can still keep your identity hidden, but this face?” He pouts “Too pretty to be kept away”

You blushed, abruptly shaking your head ready to say something as your defense retorted “Is this your way to get in my pants, now that you’re some big shot?”

He folds his arms and twitches his lips to the corner “You thought so lowly of me, I could’ve dated you. Should’ve asked you out 11 years ago, but I didn’t because I was afraid you’d get in to trouble because of me… yet, still you did”

You paused for a moment. “Seokjin. I—”

He batted his eyes and smiled “That night at the frat party, I was about to ask you... but chickened out last minute. I should be the one saying sorry, Y/N. I wish I was there for you; I could only imagine what your college life might have been. How are you holding it?”

You croaked, left momentarily speechless at the sudden revelation that was gradually unfolding before you “I—I’m fine. Thanks to Hoseok, my life from there became bearable. I’m sure he’s the one who shut all the people who were spreading rumors, he just wouldn’t tell”

He nods. “What if he truly wasn’t? Like maybe, somebody other than Hoseok did it for you?”

“You?” you opened your mouth in disbelief.

“It’s the least I could do. Besides, I’m partly to blame '' His phone suddenly buzzed as he pointed a finger to excuse himself for a moment to receive it. “Hey baby, yeah. I’m just here in Ikseon-dong? I’m in “Flower Yard Cafe” Meet? Where?... Okay. I love you, see you in a bit”

You lump on your lips, suppressing a chuckle. For a moment you thought you had a chance with Mr. WorldWide Handsome himself, but man you were eons late. Certainly, there are many times you want to hurl yourself over him regardless if he actually wants you too.

You were then so close to not giving any more damn to the ladies who would build a fort to push any of his prospects away. Yet maybe that’s how the world works, maybe you don’t deserve all the nice things because that’s how you were designed to live your life… or maybe it’s how the world chastises you for choosing to live a life in debauchery. Either way, You and Seokjin will never happen. That’s pretty much engraved in your destiny, if that’s not obvious enough.

“I’m sorry I got to go, my girlfriend’s having a fit”

“Hm, maybe you should delete your post about us?”

“Girl, you think I’m doing this for you? I want to annoy the girls who shit on my chance with you…”

You laughed. “Hm. Openly flirting with me still? You are playing on dangerous water, sir… How about we try next life Kim, yeah?”

“Ofcourse, just don’t get swoon with my face alone when that happens.”

You nodded in between chuckles as you bid goodbye and watched him leave the cafe. You began fixing your things and putting everything on your handbag when suddenly you heard the sound of drizzle.

“Ugh, should’ve known! That blaring sun definitely looks like it’s gonna invite rain soon... I gave my umbrella to Mrs. Song!” you complained to no one, whining softly from your seat.

Not wanting to spend another hour inside, especially when you needed to send a few paperwork to your boss for a report, you decided to just throw yourselves over the harsh rain “Know what? Fuck it, let’s just run and get wet again” you pushed the door away from you, ready to run while holding on to your handbag that was barely covering your head.

As the door swiveled far, you began to notice that the rain that was supposed to be falling over your head wasn’t just…there. You turned around and found Yoongi. His arms extended to you, holding an umbrella for you. You watched him smile despite slightly getting showered.

“Yoongi?”

“Why are you always asking the obvious? Hey Y/N” He scooted over inside the umbrella, arms pressing and pulling you close to him. His free hand held on to the handle slightly tilted, making sure you remained dry than he is. You stood there, completely frozen. Too stunned to see him at a time when you needed someone.

“You certainly like to get wet often, huh?” he snickered, trying to diffuse the momentary silence.

“It depends on the situation… I-uh… what are you doing here?”

“I was just having a walk. The weather looks good” he subtly gulped, eating his lie. After seeing you on Seokjin’s instagram, he immediately called and asked where he was. Seokjin, knowing Yoongi fully for years, did not bother to ask any more questions as he simply answered where he is currently located.

“Oh yeah?” you tilt your head to look at the dark sky.

“Well, it was, until it suddenly started to rain. Where are you headed?”

“Back in my office, just a few blocks from here. You?”

“What a coincidence, I am too”

“You also work there?” you chuckled

He rolled his eyes and sighed “Okay you got me, just let me take you there unscathed. I’ll go back to strolling around the city  looking for inspiration for the song I am working on. But until then, I have to see you get there, so that I could put myself at ease knowing you went to your work completely dry.”

“Aw, that is so gentleman of you. You better credit me when you find that inspiration you were saying” you playfully teased, knowing fully well you’ll give zero contribution to his work.

He chuckled. Making you suck an air to see another gummy smile from him, which he is very frugal of him to do.

“Perhaps I will,” he shrugged, smiling weakly as he faced the street. You swiftly turn to face him, bewildered to see his sincere intent. Will he really? Thoughts were starting to run around your head.

Clearly, when was the last time you’ve been held by a man? Was it yesterday during sex with Jinyoung a fellow regular from the cafe next to your office? Or was it during a dodgeball game during 8th grade where Taecyeon, your crush pulled you away from getting hit by a ball? Or perhaps the time when your father took you in his arms when you got bruised? You could no longer remember, because right in the middle of the rain, underneath the transparent umbrella, you watched the rain fall while Yoongi was there holding you in his arms…and that was all you could think.

For the very first time, you felt safe and secured. It was warm and seemed full of ardent affection. You failed to put words into what you were feeling, because evidently you had nothing on it from your catalog for inner feelings. Yoongi remains to hold onto you close, while continuing to walk on the streets under the heavy rain... And you yielded unto him.

The feeling was so foreign and novel that you were starting to feel scared. You are so afraid of the feeling of this unfamiliarity, and perhaps the thought of it that it might one day become … too familiar.

Suddenly it dawned on you, in this seemingly game of feelings like seesaw, he was now taking the leverage because you were starting to get your high.

And for the first time in years, you were unsure how this would turn out.

A/N: Ahhhh THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR GIVING TIME! I can finally share my song inspo for this  chapter. I know the lyrics isn’t appropriate to the story, but I was just vibing to this while I was watching this video when I was doing my cardio on a machine. I quickly thought of THAT scene and I was all too UwU the whole time. Anyway, hope you all have a great day! THANKING MY BETA READER FOR GIVING HER PRECIOUS TIME FOR THIS 🙃 love you! you know who you are 😉

[syubub]

How BTS flirt

Saucy disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes only and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!!

Lol this is gonna be a fun one so buckle up and hold on to your socks

Seokjin

Lol oki

I think there's two types of jinnie flirting. Casual fun flirting and flirting because he's actually intrested

When he is actually intrested in someone and is trying to flirt its kinda slow moving and not very obvious

Its little things like, "your hair looks really nice today"

Things that are complements but he means it in a flirty way

He'd probably get a bit frustrated bc his flirting tactics are too subtle

I think he would also flirt by showing things he's intrested or possibly things that he's gathered

Kinda like a peacock

He wants the person he's flirting with to know that he's cool and show them what he has to offer but doesn't want to be... showy

He wants to maintain some kind of poise

But I think its because he's a little too shy to be up front and honest

But oh man when he's having fun and flirting for the fuck of it his whole goal is get everyone in a 10 mile radius flustered

He enjoys seeing people blush (I think its because he doesn't always take true compliments well and wants other people to feel good about themselves)

Jin

My boi

His tactics might be a little... strange.. at times

It's endearing though

And smooth

I wouldn't be surprised if he has a list of mid 2000's pick up lines on hand as a plan b

Yoongi

Legit before pulling any cards I heard "like a penguin"

I can't

Now to the fucking cards

WHY IS HE SO ROMANTIC??

What a soft man

He's a romantic flirt that doesn't use many words because he doesn't have to

You best believe he has coffee orders memorized, take out orders memorized, favorite drink always on hand

You needed something from the store?

He bought it.

Very much service and gifts because he wants to provide and kinda show his worth

"Here's this rock I saw. I know you like them so I figured I'd polish it for you too"

Lol he's wrapped around that pinky so tight

He's also very considerate and aware that unwanted flirting can be creepy and uncomfy so he's very very conscious of how he goes about things

I think flirting like this is almost... healing to him?

I think he really enjoys having someone to take care of (he definitely wants the same in return)

Yoon doesn't flirt. He'd rather be courting some one

Don't get me wrong though

He can definitely flirt and shit like that but its his secret weapon

He's also very confident when he flirts

He prefers flirting to come with no expectations

If anyone gets courted by min yoongi I want to see your stack of "rocks" (idk it could be bracelet charms or snow globes or postcards but I wouldn't be surprised if its actual rocks either)

Hoseok

Oki if you don't want to read some not pg then come back when I say it's safe lol

Hobi you horny mother fucker

Flirting is 100% foreplay

I CAN'T

Kissing is definitely in his flirting book

He flirts and establishes his dominance early on (hobi is a dom fight me)

Very confident in his flirting

LUSTY FUCKER

I get vibes that hobi would 100% fuck on the first date

(Kinky mf)

Omg hobi what a fucking tease too Jesus

Blah blah blah his flirting is foreplay bc he's horny and really wants to fuck.

Istg hobi just wait for a designated 18+ reading

Oki it's safe now

On the off chance that hobi isnt using his ridiculous flirting skills as foreplay

He is still very confident

And slow paced

He's trying to win the war not the battle

He is very push-pull when he flirts

It's with good intentions though

He's just really good with people and sweet talking

Very touchy

Flirting can also be a way for him to sus people out and decide if they are cool or nah

Flirting with hobi can lead to:

A. New best friend

B. Increadibly one night stand

C. The love of your fucking lifeb

D. A failed vibe check

Lowkey hobi would be kinda like wolf... very... driven?

Namjoon

A lot of compliments and just general good vibes

Lots of personal questions

"I bet you're really good at that. You should let me see sometime."

Definitely uses his smile

A lot

Very much the type to keep eye contact and be very attentive to the answers that are given to his questions

Its a wee bit methodical

But not in a weird way

He just wants to know where to go

Lots of emotional intelligence

Probs buys flowers or something cute

Very much reassuring and probably would be most flirty over drinks of some kind (like coffee or fancy wine)

Doesn't always flirt for the sake of romance but its pretty obvious when he is

He's just perfect

He gives complements often just in general and I think he absolutely knows how to use his charms

Very smooth

So so so so so witty

Definitely can get some nice giggles going

The way he flirts is honestly entrancing

We all know he is a fantastic talker

Probably uses a lot of beautiful language

Jimin

Very flirty

Flirty flirty

Also a little flexing involved!!

He'd be dressed to the 9's and very obvious

I definitely see him making everything about the other person

Very much peak libra behavior

He'd definitely feel flirty when he's feeling himself?

Flirting is almost like a first defense

Its easier to control the situation when he's flirting and its something that he loves to do

There's a lot of intelligence here with chim chim

He gets bored easily so flirting with him would be something engaging and intellectual as much as it is fun and laid back

Fancy fucking dinners

Flirty boi would like to have his match

Flirting is a competitive (fun) sport

He'd be a bit more toned down and less flashy if its someone he's actually trying to romance

Very fun and very exciting

Taehyung

Sexc

Think mysterious and cool as fuck

That's his flirting style

Very much must pass his vibe check

Be careful its a test

The way he flirts is by not saying anything about himself

He'd drop bits here and there but he has to make sure that you're worthy tbh

If someone makes it past the vibe check this is when the real flirting begins

He'd be very attentive and almost dedicated?

Like he sees flirting as a stepping stone

This is an investment and flirting would be tailored to the person he's flirting with

He's very intuitive and knows what people need

Very very very delacate

Also he might seem a bit intense when he flirts but its not necessarily a bad thing

Homie be regal at first but once he's comfy and is sure that they're compatible then he'd be way more inviting and open and giggly

Oh god he'd be the giggliest flirt on the whole planet

Also very considerate of boundries

Jungkook

Lol

He'd only really be comfy flirting if there isn't anyone else around

Very blushy

Kinda soft ngl?

It's cute soft and shy but he also has very strong boundaries

Flirting is something that he's not great at?

But he is very very very good at learning so the more he flirts the better he gets

This is an oddly personal journey?

He has to get over some stuff to get rid of some possible anxiety

He's also a little unconventional?

He has his own way of flirting and it'd be very adorable

Things like

"You're hair would be really cool if it was blue. I like it now too. So you should do whatever you like with your hair. Because its yours. And its nice. Yeah"

Its so CUTE

He'd overthink a lot too

What do I say? How do I act?

He'd also maybe throw in a cheeky back touch or two every so often

Shoulder touching too

Its very much like best friend flirting but koo means it as actual flirting

Honestly, if someone notices that koo is flirting with them it'd be best to just take the wheel and take the stress away