#saying stupid things at weird moments is something I connect with on a deep level

[renattack]

Still processing the finale.......so instead enjoy a rough lil sketch inspired from this silly throwaway line in 4x02. 

[Image ID: digital sketch of tom wambsgans gleefully whispering ‘I could give you a kiss from here’ in logan roy’s ear while he stands taller on some boxes. Logan does not seem impressed /.End ID]

[slashingdisneypasta]

Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot [PART 2]

Notes:

This is the sequel, to this Oneshot!: Freddy Krueger x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: (Set in the Horror House, a year after the first Part)

After they were forced to 'come out', Y/N soon breaks it (Whatever 'it' was) off from Freddy, because things started getting weird with her and everyone else. They started thinking less of her, and it hurt, and Jason wouldn't even look at her anymore- and that hurt even more.

But will anyone else measure up? Will anyone else fit her as well?

Warnings: Sexual themes right off the bat (Much more than the last one). Not full-on smut, but ya know, lots of talk- and the actual actions are with Bo, mostly.

Previously:

~

“Princess… Daddy’s arm’s gettin’ tired.”

Your eyes widen and relax again at the terminology, turning back to Freddy, taking a deep breath. Well in that case…

You tilt your head and lean up, connecting your lips in a soft kiss- which he immediately takes up a level and makes it a rough one. You like how his hat kind of makes you feel disguised and protected, you like how, kind of ironically, he really is quite a good kisser, and you like the roughness. You just really like kissing him.

And maybe that’s why you got a little lost and it lasted a bit long and…

Chucky saw.

“Oh so you two are finally coming out? Fuck, and here I was having a good time torturing you.”

Your eyes snap open and you pull back, lips a little tingly but not caring as you look to the side and down to the damn doll and feel like your entire world explodes.

His voice was loud, and various villains in the room - Jennifer, Billy and Stu, Michael, Jason, - are looking at you with big, round eyed expressions on their faces (Well, the ones you can see anyway).

…

As you chew on the inside of your cheek and wonder what you could possibly say, Freddy - his dramatic ass, - points offendedly at Chucky, says ‘And to you sir, I say bah humbug!’ and then stomps off the other way- retreating. You double take after him. Can you… can you follow and hide? Or do you have to stay?-

Before you have to make the decision, he comes back, grabs your arm, and drags you back the way he was going along with him.

~

Current Time

~

"Bo... "

...

"Bo!... "

...

"... fuck... "

The room is relaxing and dark, the world is quiet around you; everyone else in the house being fast asleep. 

Your fingers entangle themselves into Bo's hair, your hips lifting up off the mattress and your back arching under the sheets where he's nestled, between your parted thighs. Your cheeks are hot, and your hair is strewn out around you and over your face, and your breathing is heavy yet your words come out entirely breathless. Or- word; Singular. "Bo... Bo, Bo, Bo, B- "

Suddenly the man under the sheet does something that is apparently too much for you, and this time your breath hitches in your throat and you're so close to finishing, when-

"Not quite sweetheart."

"JESUS fuck- "

~

"-ing christ!" You whisper-shriek, as your eyes blow wide open and you jump up into a sitting position in the bed, throwing the doona and the sheets up to make sure you're alone- then peaking at the sleeping man beside you to make sure it was, in fact, BO. When you determined that it definitely is, you turn to your bedside table and pick up the prescription bottle sitting there; Squinting at the label as you just try to calm down your heart. Its beating erratically in your chest, like it’s trying to get out. And you don’t blame it! Not after that- God, how Bo didn’t wake up when you screamed, you have no idea. Man must sleep like the absolute dead.

Hypnocil is clearly printed on the bottle, and you took 2 as instructed before you went to bed, you know you did, so he shouldn't have been able to get in like that!

But he was. It was definitely him.

And you are pissed.

What are these??! Tic Tac's!?

Once you've gathered your bearings a little more, a moment later, you slam the stupid bottle back down on the bedside table and throw the blankets off of you- getting out of bed, dragging an over-sized hoodie on, you storm out of the room and down the hall. God, you should’ve known something fishy was up- Bo doesn’t put his mouth anywhere near down there.

When you get to Freddy's room you don't bother knocking, flinging it open and not caring that it’s an invasion of privacy or that you aren't wearing pants- he more than invaded your privacy 2 minutes ago! You look around, identify a stack of magazines on the dresser beside you, pick up one of the heavier ones, roll it up and promptly fling it at the carcass sprawled peacefully on the bed- that instantly flies up and falls off the other side of the bed at being disturbed in such a shocking and sudden fashion. "Fuck!- "

"Stay out of my head, you creep!"

"Ughh... creep?” Disoriented and getting hit with another magazine - this time to the face, as he tries to get up, causing him to just stay behind the bed this time, -, Freddy still manages to come up with something obnoxious to say to you. “Last time I checked, you liked that about me... "

A growl escapes you, frustrated and violated, and you pick up two magazines this time, roll them up together, and fling the make-shift missile directly at his head.

“Hmmm… “Twisting his face in an unamused sort of way, which make you want to throttle him, Freddy looks around on the floor on his side of the room. “Hey, I don’t have a white flag to waive- will these do?”

When a crumpled pair of white boxers come flying, you but wack them out of the way. Too pissed to be disgusted- and, honestly, besides! You’ve seen, touched, been apart of a lot worse when it comes to him. Oh… your stomach rolls at the memory. “I’ve been taking Hypnocil, you fuck! How did you- “

“What?” That seems to catch Freddy’s attention, as he looks up at you again. His eyes narrow. “How did I what?”

“Get in my dreams! I just wanna be free of you!- I thought Hypnocil was supposed to work!?”

Freddy just stares for a few moments, lost in thought… before his eyes slowly widen and an evil smirk spread across his ugly mug. “Hypnocil does work… it blocks me from getting in… I didn’t do anything to you. Which means,” Suddenly he gets up, rounds the bed and comes after you. You’re listening to his words, and slowly coming to the same horrifying conclusion; Eyes wide as you avert your gaze. No… No! No way- “Unless some other demon is after you, which is unlikely,.. you dreamt about me all on your little own.” There’s a definite mischievous tone in his voice and you fight not to hide your face. Because… fuck.

Did you?- No… No-

Absolutely not. No.

“Uhhh… “Coming down from your anger-high, now mortified for a different reason, you talk quietly under his revealing gaze- though you don’t look up to meet it. You don’t do that, anymore. Not ever. “Oh… “Your mind is racing. You couldn’t… you’re happy with Bo… you don’t need Freddy. Why would you-  “Uh… “ God, why did you dream that!? Shit- “Sorry… for… bothering you, then… “

You back up with little steps, towards the exit, because you’re just now realising, you’re alone in a room with Freddy, and you… you can’t do that anymore. Not in any room, much less one with a bed. Because now that the realisation has dawned on you that he did not in fact sexually assault you, and nothing has changed between the two of you actually, you’re remembering what a damn sucker you are for him and how you can’t be anymore. How its not allowed. And you have put rules in place to help yourself.

And this situation definitely breaks a couple of those rules.

Wanting to facepalm, you very nearly groan at yourself. Shit.

“So… out of curiosity,” He takes another of those careful steps towards you and you look quickly towards the door; Heart beating too-fast inside your chest. “What did I do in this dream? You seemed pretty… shaken.” The grin is audible through his voice, and you flee immediately for the door; Hand on the knob.

“Nothing happened, forget about it, stop grilling me!” You exclaim desperately, yank at the door; Forgetting to twist it. Jesus christ Y/N, come on. Pull yourself together. This might as well be life or death. 

He chuckles behind you, the sound closer than you thought. Spiders creep up your spine and you can’t help but grip the knob harder, like it’s your lifeline. Or self-control. “Interesting choice of words… Come on, tell me what happened.”

Blades slide over your shoulder, and you actually let out a yelp, flinging the door open finally and pulling it shut behind you immediately to the sound of his obnoxiously loud laughter. You collapse against the door and just try to calm your racing heartbeat, pressing the back of your head hard into the wood. You stay until the sound of Fredy’s laughter dies down.

Tiffany walks by you then, a toasted cheese sandwich in her hand to curb her midnight munchies. She stops in front of you, and you raise a brow down at her. “… Yes?”

Tiff is the only one in this house, including you, that thinks you being with Bo now makes zero sense. She holds the belief, probably because of her own less-than-typical relationship, that you’ve gone from ‘platinum to bronze’- Bo’s handsome, she’d told you before, but that burnt shit has something else. And that’s important- mark my words, honey. You’ll miss it before long when all you get from Bo are shitty handjobs and wall-quickies. You had laughed, then, but you know by the way she’s looking at you now that she knows your opinion, consciously or not, has changed. “Detox harder than you thought, sweetie?”

You just glare at the doll.

~

The next morning, after you had snuggled back into bed with Bo and managed to catch some uninterrupted sleep, and Bo left before you woke up to deal with Lester - he grunted something about mud and that’s all you needed to know, -, you find yourself sitting up at the kitchen table with Jennifer- sorting out phone numbers from the bottom of her purse and drinking the high fibre salad drink she sips so elegantly.

The two of you have 3 piles. The ‘Done’ pile - boy’s who are dead now, -, the ‘To Be Determined’ pile - Boy’s Jennifer thinks might be closeted gay’s and so would never work for her, - and the ‘Call Back’ pile, obviously. That one is looking slim, though, unfortunately; The Done pile being the biggest.

“Uhh, wh-what do we do with a number we can’t understand?” Carrie asks, looking troubled at a ripped piece of a business card. You lean towards her and peer around at the number, and find you can’t make out the crazy scribble, either.

Jennifer plucks it from Carrie’s finger’s and drops it on the ‘Call Back’ pile. “Doctor. I know where he works.”

Tiffany walks in not-too-long later, Chucky breaking off from her and heading to the living room. She sits down beside you, making you nervous and scootch a little closer to Carrie on your either side- practically half off the chair. For a good minute Tiff lets the obvious nervous energy surge between the two of you, causing Carrie and Jennifer to exchange concerned looks, wondering what has happened. Finally, Tiffany breathes in but you’re ready and before she can make even a word come out, you blurt out what you thought would be a good distraction. “So Tiff!! How was your toasted cheese last night??”

Jennifer screws up her nose. What?

“How was yours??” She shoots back, pointedly. Annnd, right. You think. Of course. That backfired. Damn.

You turn to her anyway and glare, sternly. “I didn’t have any.”

“So you just look that much like a frazzled squirrel monkey on a regular?” She blinks back, innocently.

“Look, Miss Sex Therapist,” You start, putting an elbow on the table between the two of you and trying to make out like you could be in any way intimidating to her. “Don’t you think if you could tell what I look like after I get fucked, you woulda found out about Freddy and me a long time ago? Like, months? Your insane husband figured it out and started acting like a cruel freak about it, and you still didn’t know!” At that she just looks bemusedly at you, a tiny grin quirking at her black lips. Your narrow your eyes- wait did she know the whole time?? When Tiffany breaks out into a full smile and looks away, you literally gasp. “You did know!!?”

Putting the pieces together on what this inane conversation is about, Jennifer gives her own gasp. “Wait- you knew Y/N was banging that burnt turd and you didn’t tell anyone?? We could’ve started damage repair way sooner!”

“I wasn’t about to ruin her fun.” Tiffany smirks, sifting through the ‘To Be Determined’ pile.

Carrie looks wide eyed. “Should I be listening to this??”

“Hey, you didn’t do anything.” Jenniferassures her, looking crossly at you and Tiffany. “You aren’t the one that let yourself be defiled- or kept it a secret!”

At that, you can’t help but laugh. “Defiled?? Jen, you’re literally a Succubus demon- If I’m going to hell,” Which you doubt. Just because you had the dreaded premarital sex? No. Jen has been spending too much time with Jason and Mrs Voorhees. “You already have a backstage pass.”

“Yeah,” Tiff agrees, beside you. “And that ship has sailed, for me too. A long time ago.”

Jennifer just makes a frustrated ‘Ugh’ sound. “Whatever.”

“I don’t think you’ll go to hell… “Carrie pipes up again, a tiny wonky smile flickering at her face. You smile, going to say thank you my only sweet friend, when she continues. “I don’t think anyone goes to hell because of who they fall in love with.”

The words die in your throat, immediately. Love? God, you feel like that word should be censored, suddenly. He could hear you Carrie!! She’s looking at you, though, waiting for an answer as you just stare back like a deer caught in headlights. And Jennifer is looking at you too, her arms crossed and a pert look on her face like she’s daring you to respond, and Tiffany, too- A look of encouragement on hers.

You’re just opening your mouth to say something, when the bastard in question actually walks into the kitchen - impeccable timing, honestly, - and both yours and Carrie eyes widen. You slump in your seat and hide the bottom half of your face in the collar of your hoodie, eyes downcast acting like suddenly Jennifer’s phone number tirade is something you’re really quite fascinated with- but you can’t focus on the numbers and just stare at them. Hold on, is that a seven or a four?? How many doctors has this girl got up her sleeve- can I have one? As you narrow your eyes at the napkin in your hands, Freddy smirks at you- but you don’t notice.

The other three more calmly return to a normal, like they hadn’t just been discussing him, and Tiffany even says good morning- whereas Jennifer shows him the iciest cold shoulder in the world. While Tiffany and her start discussing their plans for the day, Freddy comes up behind Carrie and slowly reaches his blades out close over her head and face, causing her to freeze.

You glance up from the number, see this, look back down, then do a double take. “-Hey!”

“Ohh, what? She’s not hurt.” Freddy teases, a devilish grin on his evil face. You narrow your eyes back at him, giving a powerful greasy that he doesn’t even have the decency to look bothered by as he returns his attention back to the little blonde bellow him- the blades landing on her shoulder. She jumps. “Carrie are you hurt?~” Jennifer rolls her eyes deeply and Tiffany gives a great sigh. “… Scared?” Carrie shifts in her seat, dragging her shoulder forward causing Freddy’s glove to fall off her as he returns his smirk to you.

Smirking back now, you point at him. “… I know something you don’t want Chucky to know.”

Freddy’s face instantly falls. He glares. “Chucky isn’t here.”

“Tiff is, though.”

At this point Freddy totally withdraws from Carrie, rounding the table to lean over you. Meanwhile Jen turns to Tiffany, mouthing ‘What did I tell her about eye-fucking?’- You don’t see that, though. You’re too busy putting Freddy in his place- an endeavour that you are, admittedly, quite good at. “Well if you tell her, I’ll just have to tell everyone all your dirty little secrets, wont I?”

Cockily, you shrug with a smug, airy smirk. “And what are these terrible secrets? I’m an open book.” Well, as far as the rest of the house thinks- you are. Stu and Jason took one look at you with Freddy and thought they knew everything about you. That you’re a whore- you’re easy- which is the whole reason you’re in this stupid, hard ‘detox’ mess to begin with.

He only seems to get happier, dropping his arm down on the table beside you and leaning in- over dramatic as usual. “Are you sure about that??... ”

Okay he’s got you thinking. “… Yeah?... I mean… I- I was with you, so… surely most of my kinks are self-explanatory… “Surely. SURELY!! And yet your mind is racing, trying to think of anything embarrassing he knows that you wouldn’t want anyone else to find ou-

“Okay then.” Theirs a terrible smirk on Freddy’s face as he gets up again, leaning both hands on the table and looking way-too-pleased at each of the other women- and suddenly you remember.

No. No!-

Purely to torture you he takes a deep breath before saying a damn thing, and that’s enough time for you to jump up, grab his sleeve and drag him out of the kitchen- all to the sound of horrible, smoky laughter. He’s still laughing when you shut the door in his face.

Then you take a deep breath and compose yourself, leaning against the door. You can’t let him get to you like that, you know it. It’s just so terribly easy to lose yourself in the person you are with him… because, admittedly, you really like that person… they can stand up for themselves and that has never come so easily to you before.

But, you sigh, taking your seat again at the kitchen table with the others who began talking among themselves again as soon as you yanked Freddy out of the room. You’re just going to have to find another way to be like that- because that particular rout is out of the question, forever and always.

No argument.

~

Freddy’s POV now:

As soon as the door clicks shut behind her I start to glare. I could so close… I could smell gas in her hair… Growling from the back of my throat, I turn away from the kitchen and head to the living room. Out the window I can see Coverall’s Redux layin’ under a car, getting even more gas on his hands to clean off in Y/N’s hair… For just a second, I think about how pretty his brains would look splattered all over the car port, my hands on the wheel and my boot on the gas pedal… I catch sight of the cabbage patch kid giving me a weird look, and raise my eyebrow at him. “What?”

“That’s crazy face you got there. Not that you’re not always funny-looking, don’t get me wrong. But what’s on your mind?”

“… How hard I’d have to kick for you to fit in the garbage disposal. The sound… would you make more a crunch sound or a clatter?... Mm, let’s give it a try~ ”

“Hey hey hey!... “Chucky raises his hands by his head, giving me some of the fakest wide-eyes I’ve ever seen on that fucked up, mangled, twisted doll-face. “Watch your fucken self.”

I just roll my eyes and sit down on the couch, back to the window. “Gimmie the remote, jackass.” Whatever, I think, as I snatch the remote right out of his tiny child-hands. I shouldn’t bother with the pathetic b-level slasher outside, anyway. I have bigger fish to fry… Elm street kids~ Mm, my favourite.

… He can do whatever the hell he likes with her fucken hair.

~

Your POV Again:

After the day’s insanity (It is never boring here. … Never. Not for an hour. … God, you wish it could be boring for a day or even just an hour around here!!) you’re plopped on the couch with your legs in Bo’s lap and an old atlas in your lap; Just flipping through, trying to ignore the sound of Michael’s TV blaring in front of you all. He always has the volume up as high as it can go, and right now he’s watching Formula 1!- its loud, to say the least.

You’re just exploring the streets of Cuba when Bo taps your shin with the tips of his fingers, catching your attention. Flashing him a small smile, you tilt your head to the side; Silently asking him what’s up?

“I think we gotta talk.” His voice cuts through Michael’s Formula 1, thankfully, but you’re a little nervous by his tone,.. You think back to Oliver, a guy that dated last year, and how he sounded exactly the same way- just before he told you that he loved you.

Eugh. You wince, and almost shiver, thinking about it.

“Okay… What about?”

“I wanna take ya home, little girl.”

“You- “Suddenly Michael switches the TV promptly off, and turns to you and Bo; Nothing-at-all subtle about it. Your mouth falls open, about to ask him what exactly he’s looking at, like excuse me sir- But Bo is not done with you. This is, apparently, a very important talk for him. You close your mouth, give Michael a look (To which he does nothing, just pulls the lever that makes his armchair suddenly pop out and recline), and turn slowly back to Bo. “Sorry, uh, you mean- you mean Ambrose??”

The immediately gives you a bad feeling. Like, the cringe. Like, you’ve been dating for months now but it’s still way too soon for this. You are not the kind of girl that goes ‘home’. You are not a promise ring, meet-the-family, always and forever kind of girl. At least not now! Slow down-

“Yeah, that’s what I mean.” You glance to Michael, but he’s not even a lick of help, so you look back to Bo. “I wanna show you where I grew up.” Now you look around the rest of the room, but for once there is absolutely no one else around. For gods sake, of all times to get some privacy around here- You look back to Bo again; Looking attentive when really your mind is looking for the fastest ride a million miles from here. He doesn’t seem to have picked up on your squirrelly, ‘deer in headlights’ reaction, because he has that hot, country boy smirk on his face that almost make you weak. Almost makes your knees buckle. Almost makes you feel something. Almost. “Willya let me?” Well- … You almost would!

The atmosphere is so thick with tension that Michael suddenly slipping a straw under his mask and making a SLEURPsound at the volume of a jet engine absolutely make you jump. “… Um- “Michael stop sipping that coke, or so help me- “Well- “God, this never would have happened if you were still with-

“Yeah?... “

“… Okay Bo, here’s the thing, um, I don’t think this going to work… “

~

The next morning, Bo and his brothers are gone. Their stuff, their dog, their truck- everything. You’re asking about at the kitchen bench during breakfast, but you just give a helpless shrug over a steamy cup of coffee filled with sugar. You don’t really want to talk about it…

Quickly, you find Michael at the kitchen table. He’s perked up like a dog, looking at you, and you quickly squint at him. Like no. Tell them nothing. Michael, I swear-

Slowly, he tilts his head to the side at you; Pushing your buttons.

You turn your head too, giving him a threatening look. Like don’t you dare…

Tiffany, Jennifer, Stu, Billy, Freddy, Jason, Chucky and Carrie are all clumped together in the little kitchen as well and they watch this little, ongoing silent argument to the death; Some with amused chuckles, some looking baffled, some with their faces full of eggs.  

When Tiffany finally sighs, and asks again about Bo and the others- Michael bolts for the fridge and the notepad on there. You flash across the kitchen after him, still begging him not to, but he writes on the notepad as if you’re not even there. You don’t bother him. You’re just a fly to Michael Myers.

Goddamn him.

When he’s done, having written ‘Y/N broke up with him’ on it as explanation, he puts the notepad and the pencil that goes with it back on the fridge and vacates the room.

Va- Leaves the room!! He doesn’t even care to see the disaster he’s created! Your mouth falls open, seriously considering chasing after the gremlin (Should never have fed him after midnight), but before you can even take a step- Freddy reaches you and grabs your arm and stops you from leaving. Hey, hey, hey-

“What?? What happened???” Tiffany asks immediately, a note of concern in her voice.

“What!?” Jennifer snaps, as you unlock Freddy’s fingers from your arm and throw his hand away. “Why the hell would you do that!? Oh I swear to god Y/N, if it was because of Krueger, I’ll- ” As soon as this comes out of Jennifer’s mouth, Jason looks towards the door- and- no. You’ve finally gotten him to start looking at you again! Quickly, you shut that down.

“No, it wasn’t.”  … no… it wasn’t…

“So what you’re saying is you’re on the market again?~” Stu (Who has had it in his head since the climactic point of last years Christmas party that you're easy- ) asks, sticking out his tongue. Your mouth falls open once again, ready to tell him that no, you’re not on the market; you’re not fresh fish- but there are others who have things to say. Of course.

About your love life. Of course.

After all, why wouldn’t they? (ㆆ_ㆆ)

Billy sighs, setting down his own cup of coffee. He’s just trying to wake up, here. “Were you mean to this one, too?”

“Too???” You ask, baffled. “If you are talking about Oliver, that was not my fault! I didn’t know he was a cry baby- “Hopelessly, you search for an excuse for that phone call everyone heard. “it- it wasn’t on his profile- “

“She was mean.” Chucky pipes up, unhelpfully. He’s not really paying attention either, but he’s not one to let up a chance to pick on someone. “Oh don’t worry, doll, some of us are into that.” I’m about to be really mean, to you, Chucky-

“What happened?” Carrie finally speaks up, tilting her head. “Are you okay?”

Immediately your tone gets warm, responding to Carrie. “I’m fine- “

“The mean one’s always fine.” Freddy purrs, and you whirl on him with the mommy finger. Hush, you. When he backs up and shrugs, smirking, you promptly turn back to Carrie. Yeah yeah yeah, smirk all you like mr, just don’t speak.

“I’m fine, but ah… I just… had to let him go. He… wanted to take me home to Ambrose. And- I wasn’t ready for that.” You shrug.

You almost forgot anyone else was in the room except you and Carrie (And Freddy), so when Tiffany groans loudly and Chucky cackles, you give a little jump. Oh- right- Oh no-

“ -after 6 months!?”

“Fucks sake.”

“You’re never gonna find anyone.”

“Hopeless.”

~

Time Skip

The Christmas party this year a week later is at least less eventful than last year, you think, sitting with Carrie and Jerry at the non-drinkers table. Drayton was here, too, but he ran away to yell at someone… you’re not quite sure where he is now but you can hear him very faintly through the walls… You sort of wonder if Jason didn’t shove him in a cabinet somewhere.

Don’t get it twisted- it has still been eventful; Pennywise put whipped cream on absolutely everything including Chucky, Bubba tried to use the TV and accidentally set it to the porn channel (Jason turned it off and chucked the TV out the second story window after that. Michael was very upset), the twins crowned Freddy the Ugly Christmas Sweater King (Actually crowned him. You didn’t want to ask what the crown was made of, but it growled), and Hannibal and Pam had a very intense argument about how to properly prepare broccoli with cheese… but all-in-all, considering there haven’t been any casualties… just an old man lost in the walls… you’d say this has been a pretty mellow Christmas.

“Oookay,” You set down your red cup of lemonade, finally, and turn to Carrie. “I’m gonna go to bed, before Chucky and Tiffany start to make out on the dinner table.”

Carrie looks alarmed. “They did do that last year, didn’t they???”

“Wanna come?”

“Yes please.”

You giggle, getting up. “Let’s go. G’night, Jerr- “

Suddenly Chop Top goes flying by, chased by what was a crown (Now, possibly a racoon?) with a familiar fedora in its teeth, and Freddy chasing after it.

"... yes, definitely time to call it a night." You quickly turn, climbing out of your plastic chair.

"Yes."

Jerry gets up too, escaping his own chair with unjust grace. "Yes- "

~

After Jerry bid you both goodnight and you left Carrie at her room, you head towards your own around the corner. As soon as you turn that corner, though, you consider whipping right back around and getting into bed with Carrie.

Because- just- looking at Freddy leant on your door with his hat (Which has some chunks bitten out of it, now. And probably racoon rabies) tipped over his eyes like some Ohio cowboy, you just... want to run away. Or kick him. Why-

... Jerry walked right by here, to get to his room, you realise as you stand at the end of the hall... and silently curse him. That bastard-

"You just going to stand there all day princess or face me?"

"... " You open your mouth to reply, something snarky about sleeping in Jason's room tonight, or on the couch, or Drayton's van, but you're too tired- or you cant be bothered,.. or maybe because he called you princess, but-

Whichever one it was, you instead just sigh and approach- shooing him off your door and opening it. "I don't know what you're talking about." You shrug, chucking your Santa hat at your dresser. He follows you in and closes the door, but its so second nature even a year later that you don't really think much of it. "I'm in my room! All good... " And you maybe like it when he's there with you; Maybe you get a little buzzed. But we'll go with the second nature, thing. Less drama.

"Hmmm... you know what I'm talkin about... " You're just taking a drink out of your water bottle, any reason to not focus on Freddy, he comes up behind you. Miraculously he manages to not touch you (Something he has seemed to have a real issue with, you've noticed.) but he's that creepy 'too close' that is his signature. As soon as he speaks next, you almost choke realising he's that close to you again and jump, turning his way and stepping backwards. "You feel like tellin' Old Freddy the truth about what happened with your little boyfriend?~ Cuz some things are not adding up and I think I'm gonna like the answers, huh?"

"I told you, I - It wasn't- I just didn't like him enough, is that a crime?? Mind your own beeswax."

He makes a loud 'Err' sound. "Wrong answer. Try again." Your jaw drops open.

"... To which part!??"

"Okay. Let me give this a try for you, hm? Daddy'll figure this out for you, so don't worry your pretty little head, hm?" Freddy starts to prowl towards you again, and you try to back up!- but of course your back connects with a wall and you're stuck there like a trapped animal. Wha- you look around for an escape- hold on- your wide eyes land on him again. There's such a serious look on his face- Why- "Mommy's boy tries to get closer to you, asks you to go home with him, tries to make an honest bitch out of you, yeah?... You realise hold on- hold on-... I'm not havin' as good a time as I had before,.. Time to cut and run." Your heart is beating out of your chest, now looking up at him as he leans over you.

... Defiant, you open your mouth again to stop him- but he is not done. He holds a finger-knife up in front of your face and his voice gets impossibly rougher and you immediately close your mouth again. " -And then there's that dream you had about me last week... " That same blade falls forward now, towards you. A grin slips across his face. "That's the part I'm stuck on, sweetheart. Gonna need a little help, there."

Oh- "Nothing happened in that dream, Freddy!- "

"Defensive... It must have been good, huh?~ Too bad it wasn't one of mine- "

"Fine!" God- your cheeks are hot, your forehead is hot, your neck is hot, your ears are hot, you cant take anymore! He smirks and stays quiet while you talk. He's quiet... but the look on his face is obnoxiously loud. "Fine, you've got it. You know exactly what happened with Bo. He wasn't you. He wanted more of me then then I could ever give him, more then I ever wanted to give anyone, all that you never asked me for. And- he didn't do that tongue thing. There! That's everything, what- what- what now?- what do you- "

When Freddy's mouth crashes down onto yours the tension from a year is broken, and you're too worked up to talk sense into yourself. And you don't want to. You bunch your fists in his sweater and he fists your t-shirt to hold you against him (So you cant get away), and you crane your neck and feel the brim of his hat against your forehead again, and the tongue thing, and-

He takes it away again. Goddamnit, you want to curse at this man- "You're mine again now, understand? And don't tell a soul, this time... "

"... -Hey, oy!" Jabbing him in the chest, you give him a frown. "I am not the one who blew it the last time."

"... uh, no- "

"You wanted to kiss me so bad, you couldn't wait til later." A little grin slips across your face.

Freddy's avoiding eye contact, now. "That's not how I remember it... "

"That old mistletoe trick!- "

"Nope, I don't remember that at all." He grins back, and you roll your eyes at him.

"Lies."

"No lie, sugar."

You're almost forget the real problem here, but the realisation dawns on you. He wants to keep it a secret again??... Eyes downcast, you worry your bottom lip as you think... But- "... But- uh- isn't that kind of anti-productive??"

"Mmm... But the alternative is... well~ " Eyes flicking back upwards you catch the absolute dirtiest grin on his mouth and you groan; face hot again. No, don't- "Not that tongue thing, thats for sure~~ "

"Wh- No- "Weakly, you let go of him. Damnit it has a point, though- "Ughhhhhhh, that's it, out! Out, get away from me- " You try to slip around him and open the door so he can leave you to be mortified alone- but he catches your wrist and pulls you back.

You stumble immediately, and recover your dignity without missing a beat- by pressing your lips to his before he can say a word.

[undertheknightwing]

I have to ask gar

I already did Gar but I can do him again no problem >:)

First impression

THAT'S MY SON. I first saw him when I found clips of Titans on youtube and Beast Boy has always been my favorite so when I saw him in Titans OH MY GOD my heart EXPLODED. I fell in love immediately 💚 He's the only reason I started watching the show and he's still the only reason I go back and watch it.

Impression now

Even though he's treated worse than a side character, what little they did with his character is everything I wanted from Beast Boy. Even as a kid I got bored with Gar being the "stupid one who eats pizza and says dude" and wanted more darkness to his character, and Titans gave me that.. in like tiny amounts but still! I got angsty shit to work with. Other than his character being upgraded, can we acknowledge Ryan Potter for a second because his performance was utter perfection 🤩 Gar probably wouldn't be as great of a character as he is if Ryan didn't get casted as him. Ryan's Gar will forever be my go-to version.

Gar is my special boy who's constantly spinning around in my brain. Whether it's strictly Titans!Gar or my own version of Gar, he's always up there 💚

Favorite moment

Other than the ones I mentioned in my other ask, I really like the scenes where Ryan actually got to have emotion, like when Gar finally snaps and yells at people. A scene from s3 where Gar is yelling at Dick to stop his lone wolf bullshit and starts to beast out is sooo good. And for the same emotional acting reasons, the scene when he tears that dude apart and is terrified afterwards in "Asylum" is heartbreakingly amazing.

Idea for a story

In the show, I wish they actually did something with the Red. They made it seem like it was gonna be important to the main story but it wasn’t, it could have been cut out of the plot and nothing would change. I would have made it way more important to the season, like use the comic storyline it comes from. Brother Blood wants to resurrect Trigon but can't without the Red so he goes after Beast Boy to use him as a sacrifice since he has a connection to it.

In Titans it would be Mother Mayhem but the same idea, she wants Gar because he has most powerful connection to the Red anyone’s ever seen and then cue all the angst of Gar realizing it's him who's a part of a world ending prophecy this time. Plus we'd learn much more about the Red that way.

Unpopular opinion

I said it once and I'll say it again: I don't care for his suit. The design is just weird to me and looks extremely out of place next to to the other Titans' suits. Also what's the point of giving him a suit that shapeshifts with him when he rarely ever shapeshifts?? And by the end of the series he's living in the Red dimension and isn't a superhero anymore.. so??? It was just a check box thing I think, no real thought put into it other than "we gotta do this before the show ends".

Favorite relationship

Besides Rachel, Gar's relationships with the others is very surface level and can be boiled down to one thing. No one shares any deep connection or has any meaningful scenes with him (again, besides Rachel), it's mainly mission related or to set up a joke when the others interact with him. I can not think of a single scene where one of Titans had a regular conversation with him. So I'm going with his relationship with the Red, it was super cute and it's a fact it cares a ton about him. It changed it's color for him because he likes green that's so 🥺 he's the favorite child fr and he deserves to be.

Other than Titans, I greatly enjoy writing my Gar's relationships in Escapism obviously lol

Favorite headcanon

A universal one I use for my fic is that he does have pointy ears, fangs, and claws but learned how to temporarily shapeshift them away so he could blend in with other people and explore places outside the manor without unwanted attention. And I imagine he can have a tail too. His human form is just that, another form he can shapeshift into. It's a disguise to look normal enough so he can exist around others without feeling like a monster.

[noteguk]

any way you want it | kth | m

— summary; in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

— contents and warnings; smut, childhood best friends, Taehyung x reader, bigdick!tae, breast play, oral (f receiving), dry grinding, dirty talk, tae has a praise kink, unprotected sex (be responsible!!), rough sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, Taehyung takes things personally but he has good intentions, this is what happens when mutual thirst gets suppressed for years of friendship 

— words; 6.6k

— author’s note; i have no idea why but this fic was so fucking hard to put down into words??? I felt mentally constipated the entire time but it’s finally here 

Taehyung wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when you called him at almost two in the morning, complaining about your newest nightmarish date and practically begging to come over. Like the good friend that he was, he made sure to tell you that you would be more than welcome to join him in his newest documentary marathon about aliens, and wondered if you could bring him some takeout on your way over there. Like the bad friend that you were, you said no. 

To be fair, the nearest takeout place was across the city from his apartment (about thirty minutes away and in a bad neighborhood), and you were already having a horrible night as it was. Besides, you refused to take part in Taehyung’s search for a high blood pressure and cholesterol levels, arguing that it wasn’t the right time to stuff his face full of hypercaloric noodles. 

But you did pity him enough to comply with his second request: a big pot of vanilla ice cream, which you were sure you’d end up consuming too. You were in a crisis.

As if to prove that the gods above were laughing at you, during the walk of shame to Taehyung’s apartment, it had started to rain (because of course it did), and your umbrella was only able to save you from the shoulders up before it crumbled and flew away from your gasp, rolling on the asphalt like a ball of dirt in a Wild West movie. By the time that you dragged yourself to his front door, you were completely soaked (and not in the way you had planned for that night to end), and about to break down crying. 

Taehyung, like the angel that he was, helped you with your heavy coat and talked you into taking a warm shower before you got sick. He took the supermarket bag from you (where the ice cream had probably already melted) and walked you to this bathroom, excusing himself so he could grab you some dry clothes — and you only saw the ones he had picked when you got out of the shower. 

With a silly smile dancing on your lips, you fumbled with the black booty shorts that Taehyung had jokingly gifted you that past Christmas — one that read “daddy’s juicy butt” in big, bold, neon pink letters over your ass — and then decided that your dignity was already dead by that point, so another kick wouldn’t hurt. Taehyung had also given you one of his favorite band shirts, which he only revealed during desperate times. 

Your heart melted with the thought of your best friend trying to comfort you, and pulled the fabric close to your face so you could take a deep inhale, drowning in his scent. It smelled of that stupid cologne that Taehyung had used ever since he hit puberty, and a bit of fabric softener. 

The two of you had an extremely close friendship, to the point that it got kind of strange at times. Ever since childhood, it was joked that you and Taehyung had been long lost soulmates — doing everything together, from going to school to laughing at the same exact jokes during movie marathons, often at the same moment and for the same amount of time. Before puberty hit (and the hormonal rage took over your first teenage years) you couldn’t remember disagreeing with him even once. You two had always been in sync. 

But the uncomfortably close part only hit after you two went to college, and your anxiety for being a virgin in a sea of starving sharks got the best of you. After long conversations, you had managed to convince Taehyung to help you learn a thing or two about the art of naked wrestling. 

Apparently it was weird to give your best friend a handjob and a blowjob for the sake of education. Go figure. 

Regardless, your friendship wasn’t affected by any of that — even if you two had agreed to never mention any of it ever again — and you could always count on Taehyung to catch you when you fell. 

Even if it was at two am on a Tuesday, after one of your nightmarish dates. 

You threw yourself on the couch next to him, hugging your knees against your chest to form a barrier between you and the divine providence that had taken you to that point. You had half-assedly dried your hair, but pools of wetness had started to build on the back of Taehyung’s shirt. 

Instead of accusing you of ruining his favorite piece of clothing, Taehyung reached for the remote and paused his documentary just as the narrator was starting to explain how hieroglyphs were actually part of an alien language. “Just tell me how bad it was,” he said, a mustache of ice cream melting over his top lip.

You took a peek at the bowl of melting vanilla on his center table, and decided that you would probably pass the desert for the night. 

You glanced at him sideways, voice coming out monotone. “You sure you want to go down that path?” 

Taehyung licked his sweet mustache off and nodded, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, hit me with it. You look like you need all the help that you can find.” 

You sighed, turning around on the couch so you were facing him — legs still against your chest. “Okay so… I went to his place...” 

“Yes…”

“And... we had dinner, talked for a bit.”

“How was the talk?” He asked. 

You shook your head, trying to kill the memories inside. “He didn’t let me say a word. He just went on and on about this new website he’s working on, and how expensive his wine glasses were.” You scoffed, angry at yourself for ignoring the clear red flags of an arrogant douchebag. That was what the desperate need for immediate human connection could do to someone, you thought. “Apparently it’s supposed to be the next Facebook or something. Or twitter. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention.”

He chuckled. “Starting off strong.” 

“That wasn’t even the main issue,” you said, lowering your forehead so it was touching your knees. You just wanted the world to end at that moment, so you wouldn’t have to go through those experiences again. “After that, we sat on his couch and started watching a movie. And you know how that goes, we started kissing, he pushed me down and got on top of me…”

“And?” He instigated. 

With a sigh, you raised your head, meeting your friend’s gaze. Taehyung thought he had never seen you look so dead inside. And he had seen a lot from you. “And he humped like… my lower abdomen for about three minutes and came in his pants.”

Taehyung cringed visibly, taking one hand to cover his mouth. “Oh, man. That’s bad.” 

You nodded, strangely relieved at his reaction. Part of you was worried that you were the evil witch in that scenario, that maybe you had done something wrong. “The worst,” you agreed. “Wanna know what else?”

“What? There’s more?”

“He didn’t even ask me if I was satisfied with whatever the hell that was.” You told him, bitterness dripping from your tongue. In the grand scheme of things, that was something silly to get mad over, but the fact that your date didn’t even have the guts to ask if you had gotten something out of that was ridiculous. “Not that I could possibly be. But it’s like he didn’t care and I was just a pillow for him to hump like a… sexually repressed religious teen, I don’t know.”

Taehyung only nodded, realizing that there wasn’t much that he could say to fix the situation. “Was he a good kisser at least?”

You sneered. “I think he was trying to crush my face with his.” You glanced at your friend, only half of his face bathed by the yellow and orange shades coming from the television. Maybe a documentary about ancient history and alien expeditions wouldn’t be so bad. Worst case scenario, it would knock you out, and you wouldn’t have to think about that mess anytime soon. “Also, too much tongue, just… the amount of saliva…”

“Got it. You can stop there.” Taehyung raised one hand, his eyes closing for a second. His palm lowered and met one of your knees, standing there in a silent attempt at consolation. “I’m sorry about your terrible date experience, dude.” 

“If you could even call it that.” You ran one hand through your hair, suddenly overtaken by a wave of anger. “God! I was just… so… ugh! Like… ughhhh!!” 

Taehyung, bless his heart, sometimes couldn’t understand the random neanderthal sounds you threw his way. “So... what?”

At last, your makeshift protection came crumbling down, and you collapsed on the couch dramatically, legs dangling off the edge. Taehyung thought that you were being possessed for exactly two seconds before you started talking again. “I did a full body shave for this night, Taehyung. Do you realize what that means?” His lips fell open, but, before he had the chance to answer, you continued. “It means that I really wanted to get railed tonight. Actually, I wanted to find a guy who actually knew what he was doing for once in my life.”

Taehyung chuckled, trying to disperse the tension in the room. “Come on, the dating pool can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad,” you said. 

He wasn’t giving up that fast. “How bad?”

You raised your head to look him dead in the eyes, a silent threat, before finally uttering, “Try no-man-has-ever-made-me-cum bad,” and crashing your head back against the sofa. 

If you weren’t so hyper-focused on your own sexual melodrama, you would have noticed the thick silence that fell between the two of you, Taehyung’s face contorting into fifty different emotions within a few seconds. He thought that he had heard it all — from the secrets hidden in Machu Picchu to the obvious extraterrestrial influence on earthy religion — but no amount of bad documentaries could ever prepare him for that revelation. That didn’t make any sense. 

“Wait. Seriously?” He finally found his voice and managed to push his doubt out of his throat. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?”

You chuckled, humorless. “Oh no, I’ve had plenty of those. Just not from another person.” 

“How’s that possible?” he asked. 

“I ask myself that every single day.” You sighed, forcing yourself to sit back up. Taehyung was staring at you like you had just grown two extra arms, and you wondered what an amazing sex life he must’ve had for that confession to get him so confused. “Guess I’m just really bad at picking partners, who knows.”

There was a soft grunt on your throat as you fixed your position on the couch, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of your entire day piling up at once. Your gaze mindlessly traveled to the TV — a big plasma monstrosity that Taehyung had bought compulsively during a Black Friday sale — looking at a white-bearded man pointing maniacally towards a specific, round-shaped hieroglyph. You didn’t even need to hit play to know that he was making it seem like it was an UFO, but curiosity got the best of you. 

“Can you pass me the remote?” You asked, pointing at the small device that laid beyond Taehyung’s body. “I kinda wanna see what—”

“I’ve made tons of girls have orgasms,” Taehyung interrupted, looking at you like he had just clicked out of a transe.  

You laughed at his monotone voice. “I’m happy for you, Tae.” You leaned over his legs so you could finally reach the remote. “That wasn’t a jab at your masculinity, I’m sure you’re a very caring partner, and I’m sure there’s tons of guys out there that—”

“I can make you cum too, if you want.”

You had just grabbed the small piece of plastic when his sentence hit you like a smack in the face, making you drop the remote back on the couch, eyes widening. “You… what?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, taking one hand to massage the back of his neck. “Did that sound as creepy as I think it did?”

“A bit, yeah.” You forced out a light chuckle, trying to break the ice. There was no sign of mockery in his voice, and you didn’t know how to react. You could not say that the offer wasn’t tempting (you’d be lying if you claimed that you didn’t think Taehyung was attractive), but his proposal was so oddly-placed that it sounded like a joke. “What are you talking about?”

Taehyung sighed, turning his head to look at the television. “I just think it’s really unfair that no one has ever made you cum before.” 

You smiled. “That’s very nice of you, but…”

“And I want to help you with that.” He looked back at you. Oh, he was being a hundred percent serious. There was no longer a single ounce of doubt in your mind. “We’re friends, it’s not gonna be weird. We’ve done similar stuff before.”

“We were a lot younger, though.” You didn’t know why your mouth suddenly felt so dry, your fight or flight response kicking at full strength. You could tell that Taehyung was also trying to convince himself about the strangeness of the situation. “It’s gonna be kind of weird, yeah.”

“Not if we don’t make it weird,” he threw back. Was it bad that you were actually considering it? Maybe it was the piled-up exhaustion combined with the years of sexual frustration, maybe you were finally out of your mind. But you were really considering it. “I don’t wanna pressure you, alright? Just making a friendly offer. If you don’t want it, that’s fine.” 

You kind of wanted it, though. There was too much accumulated libido inside you from years and years of unsatisfying partners, and you trusted Taehyung with your entire heart. It sounded like a safe enough bet: if all went to shit and it got too awkward, you two could just stop, no hard feelings. Besides, you knew that Taehyung cared about you, which was more than you could say about all your dates in the past couple years. 

And the more you stared at him, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, the more you grew soft under his presence. At once, you were hit with desires that you had never considered before: you wanted to kiss those soft lips, wanted to know how his large hands would feel around you. You really, really wanted to know how it was to have a good sexual experience with someone, and you couldn’t think of a better candidate than your best friend. Even if you still thought it could be seen as a little bit weird. 

But you also kind of didn’t care. 

You licked your lips, finally finding your voice after a long moment of silence. “How… how would you do it?” 

Taehyung turned his head and looked at you, noticing the expectation in your eyes. “How would you want me to do it?” He asked. 

You tried to think, but your mind was completely blank. What did you want him to do? What did you like? Suddenly you weren’t sure about anything anymore. “I don’t know,” you admitted, glancing down. 

Taehyung smiled at your nervousness, one of his hands moving to your chin and tilting your head up. “How ‘bout I start by kissing you?” He questioned, gaze flickering to your parted lips. “Is that alright?” 

There were no words in your throat, so you simply nodded, closing your eyes as he leaned in. 

Taehyung’s mouth tasted of vanilla and you thought, even for a moment, that you were in paradise. The second that his tender lips met yours, your anxiety melted away, giving space to a newfound flame of desire. Taehyung kissed you softly, sensually, taking his time caressing your mouth and drowning in your heat. His hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you closer to him and leaning your head to the side so he could deepen the kiss. 

He sighed heavily into your mouth when your tongues met, his other hand moving to hold your waist. The position on the couch was kind of awkward for kissing, with the two of you sitting side by side, so it wasn’t an unwelcome surprise when Taehyung tugged you onto his lap, making you straddle him. 

The kiss was starting to get hungrier, messier, a small whimper dying in your mouth when his palms traveled down to cup your ass, pressing you down against his semi-hard cock. Taehyung sighed and groaned at the feeling of you on top of him, loving the way that your fingers played with his hair, your body so perfectly tight against his. If there was any hesitation before, it had completely vanished by that point. 

It caught you off guard when he suddenly broke off the kiss to ask you, “Do you like any pet names?”

You blinked, taken aback. “Hm? What?”

He placed a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You know, you want me to call you by something?”  

You realized that Taehyung was really taking that personal service to a different level, and you couldn’t say that you were let down by it. If any of your past partners had the dignity to ask what you liked, you wouldn’t be in that position in the first place. “I… like being called ‘baby’,” you told him. 

Taehyung smiled. “That’s cute. Baby it is.” 

Before you had a chance to respond, Taehyung’s lips were back on yours, a dreamy sigh leaving his mouth as your tongues met once again. Only a few seconds passed before he shifted his weight to lay you down, never breaking the kiss as he positioned himself between your legs, hovering over you. Taehyung started trailing a path of kisses down your neck, his large hands slithering beneath your oversized shirt and caressing the skin of your stomach. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging at your shirt. 

You agreed and, within a heartbeat, that piece of clothing was already on the floor, and Taehyung was diving in to kiss the valley of your naked breasts. You moaned timidly when one of your nipples was wrapped by his lips, his tongue coming out to play with it. Taehyung’s other hand was occupied fondling your other breast, tugging and pressing down on it, and the sensations were taking over your mind. 

“You have great tits,” Taehyung mumbled against your skin, switching to mouth your other nipple. 

“I’m glad you like them,” you teased, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You were letting out these cute little whimpers that were making him lose his mind. “Feels really good.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, moving back to kiss his way up your neck. His tongue was hot and heavy as it danced on your skin, and you knew that those sucks he was giving you were surely gonna leave a few marks on your flesh. But you didn’t really care. “Gonna make you feel even better, baby.” 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the pet name — it sounded heavenly when Taehyung used it with his deep, honeyed voice; his warm breath hitting your neck as he continued with his ministrations. 

He kissed his way to your cheek, placing a small pec on your lips before saying, “Can you do something for me?”

You nodded. “What is it?” 

Instead of responding right away, Taehyung’s gaze fell to your lips, and he was once again attacking them. That time, you weren’t able to hold back the whimper that you let out, your panties already glued against your core with how much he was turning you on. 

One of his hands had trailed down your exposed abdomen, teasingly playing with the hem of your shorts. You held your breath when he tugged them down, bringing your underwear with it and throwing them somewhere in the living room. Taehyung grunted loudly when his fingers slipped past your folds, digging into your heat. His brain almost short-circuited because of how wet you were. 

He broke the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes. “I want you to sit on my face, baby,” he said, and his request shot straight to your core. “Let me take care of you, okay?” 

“Are you sure?” You asked. You had never done that before.

But Taehyung wasn’t sharing your reluctance. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse and eyes darkened. “Wanna taste you so bad. Sit on my face, please.” 

And you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Taehyung helped you get up from the couch so he could reposition himself on it, laying flat on his back and watching as you settled yourself above him, thighs on either side of his head. The couch was the exact size for that, a little smaller and you’d have one leg dangling off the edge.

Taehyung took his hands to your thighs, running them up to your hips. His eyes were focused on your pussy, and you never felt so exposed when he started pressing you down lightly, guiding you closer to his mouth. 

You held the back of the couch for support and did as he requested, lowering yourself until Taehyung had you flat on his tongue. Your breath trembled and caught in your throat when he licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, humming around the taste before doing it again. Taehyung was an expert at erasing your worries because, with a few more licks, he had you fully losing yourself in his sinful ministrations. 

It wasn’t long until you were whining out his name, your folds lazily dragging against his tongue as you started to grind on his face. “God, Taehyung!” You called out, hand coming down to tug at his hair. Taehyung grunted in satisfaction, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves through your pussy. “That’s… that’s really nice. You’re really good at this.” 

He moaned in response, closing his eyes at your words. Taehyung was eating you out like his mouth was made for it, like he was starving for your taste and you were all that he could think about. He licked you from your entrance to your clit, playing with your sensitive spots and enjoying the tremors of pleasure that ran through your thighs, his hands locked tight around your hips. You sobbed and cried over him, making special effort to keep your legs steady as you rocked yourself on his tongue. 

It was only when he decided to suck on your clit that you realized how absurdly close you were. You clenched your teeth and whined out, yanking his hair harder. “Do that again, please,” you asked and Taehyung, like the good friend that he was, was quick to comply. Taehyung wrapped his mouth around your clit in a way that had you trembling over him, licking and sucking on your sensitive nub like his life depended on it. “Fuck, that’s so good, Tae. Feels so good…” 

He moaned again, more desperate this time, and some part of your mind understood the pattern that he was presenting you: Taehyung really, really liked your compliments. And you had no problem giving away any more of them. 

“You’re licking me so well, Tae, you’re gonna make me cum like this,” you told him,  meaning every word you said. Taehyung was a Greek god beneath you, staring up at you with those dark, focused eyes as if he dared you to cum on his tongue. “God! You’re so good for me.”

And then your praises ran thin, because your mind was gravitating somewhere else — seeking for the high that was dangerously close. It was only when Taehyung started toying with your entrance, brushing two of his fingers on it, that you came undone, crying out his name like it was a personal prayer. 

There was a smirk on your mouth as you came down, a flooding relief that overtook you. You never thought that you could come so hard in your life, especially when it depended on another person, and you were so, so happy to be wrong that you could cry. 

With shaky legs, you removed yourself from Taehyung’s face, straddling his lap and watching as his lips glistened with your arousal. His pink tongue came out to lick them, a hum on his throat as he took in your fucked-out expression. 

“You did so well, baby,” he said, placing one of his hands on your waist. “Come here.” 

Obedient, you leaned in and sighed as his mouth met yours. This time, Taehyung didn’t wait to eagerly insert his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself on him. 

He pulled away leisurely, his voice hoarse. “Can you taste how sweet you are?” He asked. “I loved making you cum on my tongue, baby. You looked so pretty.” 

Taehyung breathed out, planting kisses on your neck, one hand trailing down to squeeze your ass. You whined at his tight grip and pressed yourself down on him, feeling his hard cock poking out against the fabric of his sweats. 

Taehyung groaned at the stimulation, pressing down on your asscheek again. You rolled your hips on top of him, wincing in sensitivity as his member brushed your clit. “Loved your pussy so much, baby,” he continued, sounding like he was lost in a daydream, “I can’t wait to be inside you. Bet you’d be so tight for my cock, hm?” 

“Yeah,” you managed to speak. Even if you had just reached your orgasm, you were still aching to feel something inside you. You wanted Taehyung more than you could understand. “I want you to fuck me, Tae, please.” 

He breathed out, his hands tightening around your flesh as you rolled your pussy against his cock once again. Taehyung looked like he was one heartbeat away from completely losing his self control, and hearing you beg for him to fuck you wasn’t doing him any favors. “Gonna need to lie down for me, baby,” he asked. 

With a few more shifts on the couch, Taehyung had you beneath him once again, your legs open for him as he removed his shirt and pants. It wasn’t long before his cock sprung free from its confinement, standing erect. You licked your lips at the lustful sight, pussy clenching in anticipation as you took him in — Taehyung was big. Bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, that’s for sure; long and thick and already leaking for you. 

You would’ve cried out in need if he didn’t interrupt you. “What are you looking at?” Taehyung asked, the ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. 

Your stare oscillated toward his own. “That’s why you have such a good track record, your cock is huge.” You bit your lip, thinking about how good he would feel inside you. You didn’t know how it was possible, but you were pretty sure the last time you’ve seen his cock — back in the dark ages of your freshman year of college — it wasn’t as big as that. Or maybe you just didn’t have anything to compare it to. 

“Hey, I just used my tongue on you, don’t ignore my efforts,” Taehyung teased, wrapping one of his hands around his member so he could pump himself a few times. The playful atmosphere swiftly shifted back, and, when he spoke up again, his voice was deeper. “You think you can take it?” 

“Yeah, I can,” you said. You couldn’t be sure, but you were sure going to try. 

Taehyung hummed, moving a bit closer so he could brush his tip against your pussy, coating it with your wetness. You closed your eyes in expectation, knowing that you’d love the stretch he would give you. 

“You want it?” He asked, a touch of desperation covering his words. Taehyung was nearing his breaking point, and the fluttering of your pussy on his cock was making him go insane. “Want my cock inside your tight little cunt, baby?” 

You nodded, frantic. The brushing of his thick tip on your hole was becoming too much, your walls clenching around nothing, seeking for something to fill you up. “Yes, fuck, I want it so bad.” 

“Are you tight for me, baby?” He was trying to prolong that moment for as much as he could, keep the pretty face you made when you pleaded for him to fuck you burned in the back of his head. Making you cum once was a victory he would take forever, but making you cum around his cock might as well be his life’s biggest achievement. “Ready for me to fuck you?” 

You cried out when he started pressing himself inside you, guiding his crown inside your pussy, then stopping. “Yes, Tae, just put it all in, please,” you whined, hands fumbling for support on his broad shoulders. Taehyung already had you clenching around nothing, you didn’t know what else he wanted from you. “Please, please, fuck me.” 

Taehyung chuckled, looking down at where you two met. He was only human, and his self control was short lived. “Since you asked so nicely…” 

Your back arched off the sofa as you felt the delicious drag of his large cock inside you, opening you up gradually, taking its time before filling you up to the brim. You gasped and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling, nails digging on the skin of his back as Taehyung groaned besides your ear. 

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He let out a shaky breath, and you swore you never heard his voice get so husky before. “I just slipped right in. You’re so fucking wet.” 

Your mind was an apocalypse of confused thoughts and forgotten exclamations, eyes fluttering shut as you dove into the sensation of Taehyung inside you — his hips angling backwards, tilting up just enough so he could move himself away from you core, only to come slamming back inside. The stretch of his cock was amazing, it was making you drunk, and all that you could think about was how much pleasure it was giving you. 

“So-So big—“ you muttered, half aware that the words actually left your lips. 

“How do you like it, uh?” Taehyung asked, his voice dripping sin and hunger. You could tell that he, too, was getting carried away by the feeling, his hips rutting themselves against you at a lazy pace. “Gonna give it to you any way you want it, baby.” 

You bit your lip, a small moan leaving your mouth when Taehyung leaned closer to you, distributing hot kisses on your neck. You swore you’d be happy if you died then. “I like it rough,” you answered. 

He groaned, apparently satisfied with your response. “Whatever you want.” 

Taehyung got to his knees on the couch, deciding to put one foot on the ground for support, his hands raising your hips to help him reach even deeper inside you. Faster than your brain could compute, the shallow, lazy pace he had sat was being replaced with a harsh, fast pumping that made you cry out his name, eyes closing in sheer bliss. 

“Tae! Yes, yes, just like that,” you sobbed, running one hand through your hair. You felt like your body was floating, every cell of your body overheating with the amazing pleasure that Taehyung was giving you. You never had someone fucking you so hard, his cock pistoning inside you, your body bobbing up and down on the couch. 

Taehyung’s eyes were glued to the bouncing of your breasts as he continued to fuck you, a deep groan leaving his chest. “That’s it, take it,” he moaned out, quickening his pace even more. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, mouth opening in a silent scream.  “Gonna make you cum so hard around my cock, baby. Gonna fuck you until you cry. Want that?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” you moaned. “Feels so good, Tae.” 

“You like my cock, baby? Like it filling you up?” He asked and you could only nod pathetically, your entire body too fucked out to even respond. “F-fuck, your pussy is so good. Tell me that you love my cock.” 

“I love your cock,” you whined, feeling like a complete hot mess under his thrusts. “I — fuck! — I love your cock so much, Tae, it’s so big.” 

Your words motivated him to fuck you even harder, his member hitting even deeper inside you. Taehyung was getting lost in the stretch of your pussy around him, the glorious sounds you were making, the lust that coated your face every time you called out his name. 

“Shit, I don’t know how anyone could look at you like this and not want to see that pretty face cum.” He was breathing out hard, grunting every time your cunt tightened around him. Taehyung wanted to see you like that forever, taking his cock like a good girl, creaming all over him and begging to do it again. You were wrapping around him so perfectly, taking all of him so well, that he didn’t think he’d manage to move on from that anytime soon. “So fucking hot.”

Taehyung chased after your high like a starving man looking for food, experimentally changing the angle and force of his thrusts to see what would get the best reaction out of you. At last, after a pathetically loud cry from your part after he raised your legs up, it seemed as if he had found it. “I bet you’d be so tight cumming around my cock, baby,” he was thinking out loud at that point, trying to make sense of the pretty sounds and expressions you were giving him so eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to see you cum — it was personal at that point. “I wanna feel you cum around me, baby. Wanna feel it so bad.” 

“I’m c-close.” Your nails dug into his shoulders, eyes closing tightly. There was a light heat in your cheeks and sweat on your forehead that was making Taehyung wonder if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “You’re so good, T-Tae, you’re fucking me so well…” 

Taehyung thought that he could cum right then and there, pushed over the edge with those sweet words alone. He loved being good to you, loved making you feel things that no one else managed to before. He was intoxicated by that sense of superiority, drowning in your praise. He wished that he could fuck you forever. 

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he pushed you on, his words hanging somewhere between an order and a breathless plea. You were getting so tight around him that it was making him crazy, your wetness coating his cock and dripping down between your legs like his own personal brand of aphrodisiac. “You can do it, come on. I wanna see you cum so bad.” 

You smiled at him, a cute, fucked-out smirk that made Taehyung go to heaven and back. “So good for me, Tae, you’re so big,” you said, your voice so needy and high-pitched. Your orgasm was looming over you, pressing down on your lower body and making you see stars. It was only a matter of time before Taehyung got you crying out his name, back arching off the couch and mouth falling open in delirium. “Tae! Fuck! Don’t stop, please, I’m gonna—“ 

But your warning came a second too late, because you were already spasming around his length, body shaking as Taehyung thrusted hard inside you. Just as expected, you were absolutely fucking gorgeous when you came — all quivering lips and rolling eyes —, and Taehyung was beyond satisfied to know that he was the only one who saw that pretty face of yours. 

“That’s it, baby, fuck.” Taehyung was starting to feel his own high approaching, called by the delicious tightening and releasing of your pussy around him. His thrusts were messy and harsh; his sweaty hair falling over his eyes like a cascade. “Can I cum inside you, baby? Can I fuck you full of my cum?”

You noticed the desperation in his tone and, with the throbbing of his member inside you, you knew that he wasn’t far. “Yes, please,” you said. “You were so good for me, Tae, you can cum wherever you want.” 

And it was that final taste of praise that pushed Taehyung over his limit; waves upon waves of cum filling you up as he rode out his high. “God— fuck!” He cried out, drunk on the feeling of your walls milking the last drops of cum out of his cock. A few lazy pumps later, and he was collapsing on top of you with a mumbled, “F-Fuck.” 

There was an instant of silence after his orgasm, the quietude only filled by Taehyung’s heavy breathing. You took one hand to his head, caressing the strands as a smile blossomed on your lips. “Well, I believe you now,” you said playfully. “I’m sure you made a bunch of girls orgasm.” 

Taehyung chuckled, breathless. “Thank you, I try,” he said, looking up at you. The darkness in his gaze was gone, and it was just your best friend staring back at you. “You alright?”

“I’m great,” you admitted. You never felt so good in your life. “You?”

“Fantastic, thanks for asking.” He leaned back so he could sit up, running one hand through his disheveled hair before saying, “I’m gonna grab you a towel, hang on.” 

Taehyung left you for a couple minutes before coming back to clean you up, tenderly wiping away the mess you two had created. After he was done, he discarded the towel on the floor and crawled back to rest on your chest once again. 

There was a comforting quietude that floated in the atmosphere, only filled by the muffled buzzing of his freezer and the vague sound of raindrops drumming on the window. You didn’t really know how to deal with that entire situation, didn’t know how things would stay between the two of you. But, at that point, you made the decision to keep those worries for the following morning and, instead, just enjoy his warmth radiating all around you. 

The glorious silence, at last, was broken when Taehyung started mumbling against your breasts.  “Hey, ___?” He called. 

“Yeah?”

“How many dates have you been on?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment. “Ever?”

Taehyung made a clicking sound with his tongue. “I don’t know, like, this past year.”

“Uh… like… five or six? I think?” You answered, looking down to meet his gaze. You knew that wicked expression very well. “Why?”

He smiled. “Because we have a lot of shitty dates to make up for.”

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.” 

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be. 

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go. 

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays. 

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home. 

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing. 

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids. 

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve. 

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea. 

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy. 

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry. 

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.” 

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead. 

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone. 

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go. 

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too. 

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again. 

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door. 

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse. 

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub. 

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577. 

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows. 

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see. 

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him. 

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else. 

“Just a pint,” I tell him. 

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her. 

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop. 

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl. 

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where. 

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head. 

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do. 

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight. 

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1. 

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born. 

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.” 

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly. 

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight. 

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns. 

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly. 

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.  

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention. 

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis. 

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again. 

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle. 

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did… 

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing. 

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle. 

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics. 

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk. 

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap. 

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it. 

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time. 

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either. 

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window. 

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me. 

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly. 

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it. 

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me. 

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room. 

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly. 

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up. 

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal. 

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me. 

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life. 

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What? 

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say. 

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.” 

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.” 

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it. 

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me. 

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now. 

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife. 

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk. 

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle. 

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh. 

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. 

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer. 

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter. 

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.” 

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head. 

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly. 

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?” 

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm. 

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.” 

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards. 

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses. 

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her. 

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead. 

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door. 

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week. 

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating. 

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside. 

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed. 

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously. 

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.” 

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll. 

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me. 

-

Read part II here!

[roscgcld]

DAYDREAMING!AU || new reality

;request: rn i’m obsessed with your writing & the daydreaming!reader<33 but i also love angst so what would happen if she ended up getting really hurt protecting another student - hope that wasn’t too weird.. again, i love your writing !!

note: ahaha, i am glad that a lot of people enjoy my daydreaming!reader works; she is also one of my babies as well >< and originally i wasn't going to do this cause i had no idea on what to write - but i had managed to layout a rocky plan before i got some bursts of inspiration lol. ended up becoming too loud though ><” I am sorry for that~

pronouns: she/her

daydreaming!reader masterlist

“There is a chance that she will never wake up from this.”

Shoko gave the others in the room a concerned glance as she glanced up from her tablet, hating how silent it was besides the quiet beeping of the machines around the occupied bed. Laying in the bed was Y/N, a breathing tube carefully inserted into her mouth with the ventilator beside her being the only thing that’s keeping her oxygen levels normal. “The amount of damage she took was quite large. And even though she had managed to regulate quite a strong barrier of Curse Energy around her at all times, it wasn’t enough to brace her for the impact of her being slammed into the build.”

The mission shouldn’t have ended this way - the first and second year students were sent on a mission to deal with a few Finger Bearers that had appeared in the city due to the lack of sorcerers on duty at the time. They were under the care of a few First Grade sorcerers, all hand-picked by Yaga-sensei to ensure the safety of the kids.

However, things rarely go to plan in the jujutsu world.

Yaga-sensei sighs softly as he leans back into his seat, his eyes glancing over at his student that was clearly battling to stay alive. Guilt started to eat him from the inside out, since this was technically his fault. Sure, everyone knows that there is no way that you can go on a mission without enduring some casualties. But the fact is that this was not what he had expected for the outcome to be.. “I am going to kill them myself.”

“G-Gojo-san!” Ijichi hissed out as he glances over at the white haired shaman in the room with wide eyes, the man having been leaning against the wall opposite from the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tipped forward with an almost too casual expression on his face, yet anyone can tell the barely suppressed anger that lurked underneath. An anger that was only a few moments away from exploding. “You can’t - don’t say things like that!”

“And you expect me to sit back as they failed to save the children?” Gojo asks in a loud voice, effectively squashing whatever confidence Ijichi had built up inside of him. The hand that was resting arm tightened, the veins at the back of his pale hands started to protrude out as Gojo’s anger started to show itself. “I need a good explanation on how their incompetency put our student in this state. 5 First Grades against 3 Special Grade Curses? With 7 talented students by their side and they still can’t handle it? Give me a fucking break.”

“Not everyone can be like you, Satoru.” Yaga-sensei finally mumbles out as he rests his forehead into his hand, fingers pinching at the space between his eyes tiredly. “If anything, it was my fault. I had underestimated the brains of the Finger Bearers, and because of that, all my calculations were wrong. I put retrieving the fingers over numbers. So if you want to find someone to be angry to, the blame is on me.”

The room went quiet after Yaga’s explanation, both Ijichi and Shoko sharing a caution look before casting a glance over at the blindfolded man. After a few tensed moments Gojo pushed himself off the wall and walked out of the hospital room without another word, closing the door behind him quietly; a stark contrast to his usual habit of either slamming the shoji doors too hard, or leaving it open completely.

That out of character move definitely had Shoko sighing in concern. “That idiot...I hope he’s not going to do anything stupid.” She mumbles softly before she turned back to face the young girl laying on the bed, quietly reaching over to brush her fingers through the soft strands that had fallen over Y/N sleeping face. “You better wake up soon, sweetheart...I worry that this might finally push him over the edge.”

Occupying each seat outside of the small waiting area in the infirmary were the other students; wounds bandaged, yet their anxiety was palpable in the air. They had heard what had happened, yet were sheild by the other sorcerers who had called for back-up. Last they heard of Y/N was a scream before what sounded like a building collasping. “Do you think Y/N-senpai is alright?”

Yuji was the first one who dared to break the silence, glancing up from his clenched hands before him to glance at the others. “I mean...it must have been bad, since she was charted off as soon as back up arrived.” Yuji mutters softly as he tightened his fingers together, trying to stop them from shaking. He felt awful - if only he had spared a few seconds to glance over at his senpai, maybe she wouldn’t be in the condition she’s in now. “It’s not every day you’re rushed straight to Ieiri-sensei’s office...”

“...If there is one idiot who can pull through, it’ll be her,” Maki mumbles out quietly after awhile, looking away from her kouhai to stare down at the wooden floors of the building they were in. “Even if it’s bad, she always pulls through it...there is no reason why she can’t do it this time.” She mutters softly just as a pair of footsteps came towards them, causing everyone to look up at the approaching figure. 

Gojo paused when he spotted the others, the question they wanted to ask was clear as day. And for once, Gojo wished that he was able to reassure them like he always does. For him to be able to put up the act that everything was alright, that everyone will be okay. 

But he knew that it’ll do no justice if he did. “Is she...is she alright?”

The question that fell from Yuta’s mouth was left hanging in the air for a few moments, the sliver of hope they had moments ago slowly dimming with each passing moment. Quietly Gojo slipped his hands into his pockets, his blindfolded eyes downcast; too scared to see their reactions. For once, he wished that he was not the one to break the news to the students. “Y/N-chan...might not recovery from this.”

His words sent shock waves through the students, yet he balled his fists up in his pockets to continue with what he had to say. “She hit her head too hard...and if she was not subconsciously protecting herself with Cursed Energy all the time, the impact would have caused her skull to crack in two on impact. But it still took a lot out of her person, and Shoko said that-”

The sound of a metal chair being thrown backwards echoed across the room, causing Gojo to look up just in time to see Yuta standing up with wide eyes as he hastily tried to calm his friend. “Maki, you need to calm down.” He tried to reason with the girl, who had her backed turn to the group, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jacket. “This isn’t your fault-” Yuta tried to reason, only to pause when Maki just silently started to walk away, leaving with no more but a loud slam of the main door that echoed down the hallway once more. 

For a few moments no one said anything else, yet the first one to move was Megumi; who turned to face his sensei. “Can we visit her?” He mumbled out quietly, to which Gojo just glanced over at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. “Usually people talk to someone who is in a coma. Might jolt them awake or give them encouragement to fight harder...I am sure Y/N-senpai will get lonely if no one visited her..”

“Why not?” Gojo said after a few moments of thought, giving his students what he hope was a reassuring smile as he turns a little; nodding down the hallway. “Shoko managed to stabalise her condition. Just make sure to sanatise your hands at the door.”

Quietly the group of students followed behind their silent sensei, keeping close to one another as if they were trying to give each other comfort. The walk to the room seemed too far, the door seeming to grow further and further away from them with each step. It was if it was trying to stop them from seeing the truth; yet they didn’t stop. Yet soon they found themselves standing before the smooth door; the single grey name plaque with her name written in black resting in the silver plaque holder. “Right, here we are.”

After everyone was handed a blob of hand sanitiser and had wiped it onto their skin, the small group entered after a quiet knock to the door. “Y/N-chan, I’ve returned with the others...minus one, that is.” Gojo hummed out in delight as he made his way towards the bed, a silent gesture for the others to do the same. “You know Maki-chan though. Once she finishes beating herself up, she’ll come running back. She always does~”

Quietly the others made their way into the room, eyes scanning over the beeping machines and many wires connected to the sleeping girl. “Y/N...senpai..” Nobara mumbles out in shock, her eyes resting the ventilator; not believing that a girl that was bounding about the college earlier today now needed help to do something as simple as breathing. “No way...there is...”

A warm hand rest on the top of her head, Megumi quietly giving her a form of comfort whilst his wide eyes stared at the bed before him in shock. No one dared take a step forward, like they were standing on the other side of a fragile glass bridge that was moments away from breaking. “Y/N..”

Gojo felt the hole started to eat inside of him as he watches how his students were staring at their fellow classmate in shock. Quietly he settled down in the only seat at the corner of the room, watching from the shadows at how the others will react to seeing her in such a state. The first person to snap out of it was Yuta, who quietly places a hand on Toge’s shoulders before giving it a light squeeze. “Shall we go and say hello?” 

Quietly Yuta made his way towards the bed, only to hesitate one step away from grabbing onto her hand. He stared at the frail hand, a simple IV needle carefully taped on the back of her palm for a few moments; a clear look of uncertainty on his face. Yet he took a deep breath, and with a trembling hand, carefully took Y/N’s cold hand in his. “I...Hi, Y/N...” Yuta mumbles quietly into the hospital room, voice barely heard over the constant beeping of the heart monitor. “Sorry...we took awhile to visit...and sorry that Maki isn’t here...I am sure she’ll drop by when she is ready though.”

The only response he got was the sound of the steady beep of the heart monitor, to which he just tighten his grip ever so slightly on Y/N’s unmoving hand. He could hear the soft giggle that Y/N would let out at his words, and if he felt tears welling up in his eyes as he hears her voice bouncing around inside his head.

“It’s alright, Yuta-san! I am sure you were busy before that. And I know Maki-chan will come after you leave - but you didn’t hear that secret from me~”

The silence of the hospital room made Yuta sick to the stomach, the idea that he might never hear Y/N’s voice again started to really sink in. Her usually warm and familiar touch felt cold and lifeless, causing Yuta to carefully tuck her hand underneath her hospital blanket; as if he was trying to warm it up once more. “I...I am going to go grab her favourite stuffed animal from her room. I am sure she’d love to have something of comfort whilst she’s here...if you’ll excuse me.”

Without another word Yuta just walked out of the room quietly, Yuji being the only one turning to watch his senpai leave with a look of concern. Out of everyone Yuji was definitely the one who seemed to be able to hold himself together the most, so it was no surprise when he was the one that went next. “Yo, Y/N-senpai,” Yuji greeted quietly as he walked towards the hospital bed, easily dodging all the wires and such. After all, this wasn’t his first time visiting someone he cares for in the hospital. “Can you hear me? I hope you can - or not Fushiguro might lecture me for being loud.”

The other sorcerer couldn’t even find his voice whilst Yuji continues on; his voice soft yet soothing as he looks down at his senpai with nothing more but a soft smile. “I know you’re trying your hardest go come back to us, and you’d probably tell us that we’re not the ones to blame. That you’re a big girl now, and things like this happen all the time.” Yuji continues, the only indication to his change of mood was the slight quiver that was hard to hide. Yet Yuji continued on anyway. “I hope you know we miss you...and we’re worried sick that you’re in the state you are now. But I know that you need some time to rest up, and soon you’ll be back on your feet again, right? ‘Cause..b-because that’s how you’ve always been.”

Silence enveloped the room once more, with Yuji just not sure on what else to say to her as he stared at her pale face. The other three in the room sort of just huddled together, all of them unsure of what to say to her. They weren’t the best with emotional words - beside Toge, who usually doesn’t use words at all - so asking them to keep their tone in check whilst referring to their unconscious classmate is a little too much for them.

So after awhile Yuji decided to lead them out of the hospital room, giving Gojo a parting smile before he closes the door behind him. Leaving him alone as he stared at the slumbering figure of his student as he rests his elbows on his parted knees. Quietly he rests his head in his hands, eyes closed as he tried to push back the light migraine that was coming on. He hates that it is his duty to break the news to the others - her parents, her elders. Heck, he has to give a call to Nanami and Utahime to tell them the bad news. 

If it was anything else, he wound be more than excited to blow their phones up. But this? He wishes that the duty was handed to someone else - because he himself doesn’t even believe that this was happening in the first place. 

He wishes that this was all just a terrible nightmare.

Maki quietly pushed the window open as she climbed in from the roof, the doors of halls of the infirmary long going silent; cicadas chirping away in the night sky. Maki quietly stuffed her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, eyes racking over Y/N’s sleeping form, to the amount of machines that were working by her side to make sure that she’s alive. “Hey, idiot...I’ve arrived.”

Quietly she made her way towards Y/N’s bedside, her eyes clouding over with an unreadable emotion. If she was being honest, she didn’t know how to react right now. On one hand, she was pissed - she is pissed off because she could have done something to help Y/N. Maybe if she was just faster, just a bit more aware, maybe if she was training to try harder. Maybe if she can just try harder-

A loud slap sounded across the room, Maki having pulled her hand out of her pocket to slap across her cheek hard to snap out of the spiraling thoughts. The burning sting on her cheek reminded her to return to reality before she started to trash the room out of anger, something that she and Y/N had been working on for some time now. Y/N would always say, “You should never turn to anger and violence to deal with your issues!”

Maki wonders what her reaction would be if she had saw Maki slapping herself so hard that there was a light handprint on the side of her cheek. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

With a tired sigh Maki settled down in the seat that Gojo had occupied earlier in the day, keeping her eyes on the steady heart monitor; her eyes following the spike that indicates the faint heartbeat of Y/N. “Who the hell knew that it took an entire building to really get you hurt.” Maki sigh as she tore her eyes away from the screen, looking down at her boots quietly; examining all the scuffs and scratches on marring the smooth leather. “Call me stupid, but I really thought that it’d take more than that. Remember when you had jumped out the window of the 10th floor and left with no more but a bruise? You were crying about it ‘cause you couldn’t wear dresses for about 2 weeks.”

Maki let out a tired laugh at the memory of finding Yuta trying to reassure a crying Y/N when she found the bruise on her knee; Yuta just patting her head with the most amused look on his face whilst she cried her eyes out at the idea that she can’t wear her cute dresses until it cleared up. “Imagine what will happen when you wake up from this? God, that is going to be a pain.”

A soft sigh left Maki’s lips as she glances over at the stuffed sheep that Yuta had brought from her room; along with a few more random stuffed animals that surrounded her head like a halo. This caused her to smile sadly as she rests her head on her shoulder, watching her for a few minutes without saying anything. Maki had always been bad with words and emotions; with all the things she had gone through when she was younger. Wording how she feels and emotions are not Maki’s favourite thing to deal with, since she wants to keep this badass, strong woman front she has on all the time to prove something to her elders.

“You better wake up from this, or not I am going to kick your ass.” Maki mutters after a few moments, getting up with a tired sigh before she casts her another glance at Y/N. Without missing a beat, she reaches over to brush strands of hair away from her face, warm hand resting on her head for a few moments before she places a few parting pats on her head; something she had always done when she needs to leave for a mission or a meeting outside of school. 

“‘Night, brat. Wake up soon, okay?” Maki mutters, and with a final sigh she made her way towards the window she climbed in once more, quietly shutting it behind her after she hauled herself over the railing. It was only in the dead of the night that Maki quietly lets her tears fall, biting her lip hard to stop whatever sounds that were threatening to leave her lips. 

Because at the end of the day she is stubborn, and refuses to believe that this might be her new reality.

A week had passed since the day that the others found out that Y/N had fallen into a coma of a sorts, and everyone would visit at least once just to see if there is any sight of change. That there might be a sign that she was going to wake up soon. And there were slight changes; a few days after she had been admitted she was allowed to get off the ventilator and rely on oxygen instead. But she was still in bad shape.

Nanami tries to make time to drop by to visit as well, coming over to quietly read pages of the book that he was reading. Whenever Y/N was sick, she would call Nanami over the phone and ask if the man can read to her; something about how she finds comfort in his voice that puts her at ease. And since Ieiri had encouraged them to talk to her more for stimulation, Nanami takes the time to read to her after a long day of work. It brought him some comfort as well, listening to the constant beeping of the heart monitor and the humming of the other machines around her.

Gojo would sometimes drop by as well, only to berate Nanami for his ‘boring’ book choices; and an unconscious Y/N has to endure two adults arguing about book choices and how Gojo’s titles are definitely not appropriate to even bring onto school grounds.

Besides the occasional argument, sometimes Gojo will prop his phone up against a vase of flowers that Yuji brings so that Utahime can FaceTime him; the students from the Kyoto side being able to see and talk to the slumbering Y/N. For the most part, everyone was shocked that she was in the state she was in; having never expected such a bright and talkative person can fall into such a state.

The most distraught one was definitely Todo, who had almost jumped out of his seat and make a full on dash towards Tokyo if it wasn’t for Noritoshi and Mai joining together to restrain the man, along with Principal Gakuganji threating to hold him back from their planned trip to Tokyo the following week that had him calming down.

But barely - the man is still more than ready to just up and run across the country just so he can be closer to his ‘beloved Y/N-chan’.

Every day, without fail, Toge will come into her hospital room with a new accessory to pull her hair back into; carefully brushing her hair out and applying dry shampoo so it wasn’t greasy to the touch. Once he was satisifed he’d carefully style her hair back so it didn’t get in the way of her checkups, taking his time with everything so he gets to spend more time with her. He doesn’t say much, he usually finds that doesn’t whenever he is around her; so he takes his time when he does her hair in hopes that she can feel that he is there for her.

Yuta and Megumi will find time after classes to go and visit her together, telling her about everything that had happened whilst she is asleep. Sometimes Nobara will visit as well, must for the most time she’d come alone in the evening after dinner to just rant to her about everything that she found annoying that happened over the day. Nobara usually stay until Ieiri comes to kick her out, hoping that Maki might come in as well to visit Y/N.

But Maki never does - yet everyone knows that Maki finds the time in her day to go and visit her like everyone else. However, no one dared to ask her how or when she does it. They’ve accepted that it was probably a sensitive subject to her, and that it’s off limits to ask her unless you want her to ignore you for the rest of the day. Gojo had learnt it the hard way when he had teased her, only to be thrown out the window of their classroom by an annoyed Maki.

Even his Infinity is no match for that woman’s wrath.

Days soon led into weeks, with slow but not so encouraging signs of improvement from the young girl. The elders of her clan and her parents had visited the college as soon as they can, and had kept tabs with every single thing that is going on with her. There was no denying the fear of her suddenly relapsing once more, and soon it will become too much for her parents to bear. The idea of keeping Y/N around, knowing that she is in so much pain, just for their selfish want of keeping her alive was a reality they want to avoid. 

The once vibrant and lively campus soon turned gloomy; the hallways of the school quiet without the familiar sound of bunny-themed slippers running across its worn-out flooring. The chime of a familiar giggle was missing in the air, along with a dreamy voice that just never seems to stop; no matter what time of the day it is. There were days where the others forget that Y/N was not there to make dinner for the night, or she wasn’t there when they want to ask her opinion about something. Her room, which once served as a sanctuary for the students who can’t sleep at night, now became too painful to even walk past on certain days.

Yet everyone tried their hardest to go on with their days, knowing that it was what Y/N wanted them to do. If they were to allow their grief to consume them whole, they knew the delicate routine they had rebuilt would crumble before them. And if there is one thing they can do to keep Y/N’s memory alive, is to live their lives to the fullest. To try and cherish each and every day, no matter how painful reality is without her by their side.

They have to try, for her sake.

It wasn’t until a month passed when Yuta had came running into the lunch hall, looking like he had seen a ghost as he tried to catch his breath. “Okkotsu-senpai?” Megumi asks in concern as he looks over at the older man, putting his tray down to try and give his panting senpai a hand. “Are you-” He asked, only to have Yuta put a hand up to stop him as he took a few deep gulps of air.

“A-Awake...Y/N...Y/N is awake.”

Within a few seconds the students were sprinting across campus, none of them believing what Yuta had said until they have see it for themselves. What is usually a 10 minute walk from the lunch hall took about four minutes with them sprinting, possibly annoying half of the cleaners of the school that they were breaking the no running rule. Yet they didn’t stop even at their annoyed outcries, the simple wooden door of the infirmary almost coming off its hinges at how hard Maki had thrown it open.

Maki was the one who pushed the hospital room door open, causing the people in the room to jump in shock. Including Y/N, who had let out a soft squeak of shock; her voice hoarse from not using it for so long. The others blinked in shock at the sight of Y/N’s bright eyes meeting theirs at the doorway, ones that blinked before she gave them the biggest smile she can muster.

“H-Hi.” Y/N mumbles softly, to which Nanami just gave her a rare smile as he gently rubs her back, Gojo smirking softly as he recorded the reactions of the others by the door. He had gotten over the shock a few moments ago. “Don’t strain yourself, Y/N-chan. Remember what Ieiri-sensei said about straining your voice.” The blonde man hummed before he turned his blue eyes over at the shocked students as well. “And that goes to you too. If you all stress her out, I am not against tossing you all out.”

Y/N made a noise and turned to try and reassure the older man, not noticing how the others were staring at her in shock. The first person to move was Maki, whose eyes look suspicious wet as she stormed into the room. “I am going to kill you.” She growled out loudly, to which Y/N jumped before she held her arms out for protection; feeling a shiver of fear go up her spine. Yet before she can make a move to stop her, Maki suddenly wrapped her up in a hug, the arms that Y/N held out to try and pacify her angry classmate freezing from the unnatural reaction from Maki.

Y/N blinks for a few moments before she smiles softly and wraps Maki up in her arms as well, gently patting her head as Maki silently wets her shoulder with her tears. “I know.” Y/N mumbles out softly before her eyes met the others, giving them a soft smile as she gently gestures to the others to enter her room. Soon there was just a huge ball of crying teenagers hugging one another on Y/N’s hospital bed; Gojo and Nanami having moved aside to give them more space for their reunion as they watched on from the other side of the room. “Should we stop them?”

“Nah, we might get murdered if we try.” Gojo said with a hum as he grins over the sound of intelligible crying, looking over at Nanami who had a ghost of a smile on his lips at the sight. “Besides, this is great content. I never had a video of Maki crying before.” Gojo admitted, to which Nanami’s smile dropped as he looked over at him in annoyance. 

“Why am I not surprised at all?”

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[highdramas]

forever is the sweetest con | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: language and tfatws spoilers? not really but just in case

word count: 2167

summary: bucky makes a friend in his neighbor and her cat.

note: hiiiii so happy that so many people enjoyed the world's a little blurry! i am going to be writing multiple one shots, all connecting and showing little snapshots from the life of bucky and the reader <3 you don't have to read them in order, but reading all of them will help you better understand the relationship!

enjoy! <3

“stupid fucking thing.”

the swearing followed by incoherent irritable grumbling is like a dog whistle to bucky barnes. he’s standing outside of his apartment, lingering in the hallway, waiting to see if the person will speak again. to the surprise of no one, bucky hasn’t put much effort into getting to know his neighbors. he gives curt nods as he passes them in the hallway, tries his best to muster a smile when he gets caught at the mailbox beside someone else. he thinks that it looks more like a grimace than anything, but still-- it’s something.

“son of a bitch.”

the voice is feminine, and it is angry. he’s trying to discern if there is any immediate distress, and if there is-- maybe he can help. he’s pulled from his thoughts quickly as a door swings open and a large box is thrown out onto the doorstep. “fucking hell.”

the door doesn’t close. it stays open, still swinging, as if recoiling from the force in which it was tossed open. bucky could very easily continue on his way to his apartment, put away the few groceries he had purchased-- mostly pasta and cereal-- and spend his evening how he spends most evenings. fighting off sleep, because he knows what comes the moment consciousness fades and the darkness swallows him whole.

but he doesn’t.

instead, he dashes to his door and places the bag at the entryway, turning back on his heel. he fiddles with his gloves as he grows closer and closer to the door. and then, he sees you.

bucky can’t see much-- the door is only cracked. but what he can see almost makes him laugh. you’re huddled over what he assumes is a cat tower. well, a sorry excuse for a cat tower, really-- it’s half put together with miscellaneous pieces strewn all around you. you seem to be studying the instruction manual, flipping through it before you eventually toss it to the side. “kitty, i don’t know about all of this,” he hears you say.

again, there are multiple options here in terms of what bucky can do. he can leave now, pretend he never saw anything. he can check on you, and then… and then what? he doesn’t know.

he knocks.

bucky takes a step back as you scramble to your feet, pushing your hair back. you open the door and up at the stranger. “hi.” the word is short, and he can tell that you are not in a good mood. “if you’re going to bitch me out about the noise, i’m sorry. i bought a new cat tower for my cat, and it’s a bitch to put together. and i hate building anything, so i’m basically useless.” you suck in a breath and muster a smile. “so, like i said. sorry. i’ll be a better neighbor tomorrow.”

you go to close the door, and he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he blurts-- “wait-- no.” he shakes his head, clears his throat. “no, i wasn’t gonna bitch you out. i was--”

what was he going to say? what was he going to do?

“i was going to say i could help. if you want.” he clears his throat and rubs at his chin with a gloved hand. “i’m alright at putting furniture together.”

you linger in the doorway and look at him. though there are countless people who look at him every day, oftentimes, bucky doesn’t feel like he’s being recognized. sometimes he wonders if he is secretly invisible, drifting through this too-long life as a ghost. but the look you give him is piercing, and the smile that follows makes his heart stop in his chest.

“i’m not gonna turn down someone building this god forsaken thing for me,” you open the door wider. “come on in.”

--

bucky finishes his handiwork on the cat tower within thirty minutes, but something about you draws him in, and now it has been an hour and a half and he has not tired of your company.

you are very charming. that is the first thing that bucky notices about you. and it’s not just your personality, either. everything in your apartment seems to drip in you. there is no wall that is bare, there are different colored lights twinkling around each window, plants galore. it makes him almost feel embarrassed about the state of his own home. if you can even call it that.

it’s not a home. it’s a place where he fights off his demons and drinks cheap beer and pretends that he is okay, pretends that he is not alone, pretends that he doesn’t need sam or his therapist or anyone else in order to figure out how to live in the present.

but yours. yours is a home.

there’s a pang of jealousy, nestled deep in his heart. he doesn’t care if the thought is unreachable for someone like him, someone who has done the sort of things that he has done-- he wants it.

the thought will never reach the light of day, of course. no, it will stay buried in his belly, churning with the guilt and the anguish and the loneliness, too.

“you good over there?”

“huh?”

bucky looks up to see that you’re looking at him. your head is tilted and your mouth slightly agape, and the look… he can’t quite place it. it’s more confusion and less concern, and in a weird way, he likes that. “yeah. i’m fine.”

he’s confused by the way that the corner of your mouth turns up. “you’re a good liar,” is all that you quip before you push up off the ground, dusting off your leggings. “do you like pizza? i’m starving, and i would cook us something, but i don’t want to subject you to that. my mom says the only thing i should ever make is cereal, and even that’s pushing it. says i use too much milk.”

bucky laughs.

and it shocks him. it takes no thought at all to laugh at your words, your charm, the way that you carry yourself with such easy self deprecating humor. you make him laugh.

you, on the other hand, don’t think anything of it. you raise your eyebrows at him. “well? it’s pizza or we’re eating two big bowls of honey nut cheerios.”

“pizza is good.”

you bite down on your lip and you nod, fishing your phone from your back pocket. “great.”

bucky studies you as you order the food.

he’s learning that there are many things that he envies you for.

every muscle in your body is loose and relaxed. you don’t walk, you seem to float-- drifting in and out of rooms, brushing past him, as if you’re made up of nothing but air and stardust. you joke with the employee on the other line and then you hang up and look back to him. “i said we’d go and pick it up. it’s my favorite place, just down the street.”

“yeah, that sounds nice.”

bucky follows your lead. he’d never taken off his jacket, or his gloves, but you hadn’t made a comment about them. you scramble into clothing suitable for a new york winter and then grin at him, face slightly obscured by the massive scarf. “ready?”

he nods, and then you set out. you’re quiet for a few moments, before you say, “you’re bucky, right?”

there’s a silence that settles between you, as if some jig is now up. you glance over at him. “that’s not a bad thing,” you say softly. “or an insult.”

“yeah, i know.” his elbow knocks against yours lightly. “but, yeah. i am.”

you nod and offer your own name in return, and that is that. you don’t allude to anything else that you might or might not about him, his past, or the fact that he was used as a hydra weapon for a majority of his life, now thrust into a brand new century. no, all you do is say, “bucky’s a nice name.”

“thanks, doll.”

the pet name rolls off of his tongue so easily, like breathing. he stops for a moment, leaning into the urge to be embarrassed, but you don’t let him. “no one’s ever called me that before,” you say, brushing against his arm. “i like it.”

“it’s what all the guys used to call their girls.” he stops. “not that, you know--”

“yeah, i know,” you laugh. “i know what you meant.” you glance up at him again. “like i said, i like it.”

bucky swallows his nervousness and instead comes reassurance at your words. “i can keep callin’ you doll, if you really like it that much.”

playfulness. ease. comfort. things he has not felt in so long-- yori has tried to pull them out of him when it comes to women, but it has always felt forced, too fast, not right. this feels right.

“you make it sound like it’s such a chore!” you gape at him, but your voice is not malicious in the slightest. you are holding james buchanan barnes in the palm of your hand and you do not even know it.

“it’s not a chore,” bucky reassures. “trust me.”

“whatever you say,” you point to a small hole in the wall shop. “this is it.”

bucky holds the door open for you and you smile and wink as a thank you and god it sends his mind spinning, intoxicated by even the look that you give him. your name is performed like a symphony by every employee in the shop-- they all grin and wave, some make small talk. they eye bucky who stands a step behind you. but you turn and you place a hand on his forearm and even through all of the layers he swears that your touch burns. “this is my neighbor--” you look to him.

bucky clears his throats and he musters a smile, somewhere between his normal grimace and the smile that only seems to form in your presence. “james.”

they greet bucky with kindness and send the both of you on your way with the large pizza and a free liter of diet coke. “her favorite,” the owner says pointedly, winking to you. “we’re always trying to tell her to stop. maybe you can get her to knock the habit.”

“i don’t think anyone can get me to stop drinking diet coke,” you joke, looking at bucky with a level of fondness. “but he can certainly try.”

“i’ll give it a valiant effort,” bucky says and he tips his head to everyone before he opens the door for you once more. he holds the pizza and you hold the soda, tucked beneath your arm, and you make the trek back to your apartment in comforting quiet.

bucky learns that you don’t have a dining room table. you call it a waste of space, so you two sit in front of your coffee table on floor pillows, eating off mismatched plates and drinking the diet coke out of mugs from the thrift store you frequent.

the night is growing quieter, and you think that both you and bucky sense that it is coming to an end. you think you might be a bit addicted to being around him. he reminds you of the smell after it rains and black coffee, of laughter under neon lights and gentleness.

bucky is beginning to gather his things to leave when a meow turns both of your heads. your eyes light up. “hi baby,” you coo and the cat goes right to you and you scoop her up in your arms, presenting her to bucky. “this is katherine. or kitty, as i call her. she’s normally pretty scared of people.”

bucky hesitates, looking between you and the cat. finally, his hand reaches out and scratches kitty beneath the chin. she purrs almost instantly, nuzzling her face into his hand. you watch, somewhere in between shocked and amazed, as bucky interacts with her. “no, i swear, she hates people.” you pause. “wanna hold her?”

“oh, i don’t know…”

you raise your eyebrows and then he looks back at the cat, who gives a yap. it seems to say: please? he huffs and it fades into a smile and he holds his arms out. you set kitty into them and watch as she curls into him, rubbing the top of her head against his chin.

a girlish laugh bubbles from the deep pit of you belly and you clasp your hands together in front of you, watching with hearts in your eyes. the corner of his mouth turns up as he continues to pet the cat.

“bucky,” you say, putting a hand on your hip. “i hate to inform you, she’s never gonna let you go now.”

bucky looks up at you through his lashes. you, with your easy and calm demeanor, your loud laugh and your inability to build even the simplest of furniture.

“i think i’m okay with that.”

[ange1s]

cherry emoji - mark lee

synopsis: in which mark asks to see your boobs, and the idea you had of your relationship is thrown up in the air.

wc: 3.6k

genre: this is so fluffy it hurts, some angst but nothing crazy

tw: suggestive themes (boobs), swearing

playlist: pluto projector by rex orange county, ivy by frank ocean, tapestry by bruno major

a/n: guess whos back ,, back again ,,, ange1s back ,,, tell a friend,,,, also this is unedited so i'm sorry if theres a mistake :')

my anon asks are open !! feel free to ask me anything or request something <3

“i have a weird question.” mark says timidly. you’re sat on the floor, your back against his bed playing a rhythm game on your phone. he is sat at his desk, parallel to his bed, but with the rolling chair swivelled around to face you straight ahead. you don’t look up.

“hmm.” you hum, focused on the game.

mark swallows. “can i see your boobs?”

you drop your phone into your lap, forgetting about the game. you look up at him, straight into his eyes, and you giggle.

“wait, what?”

mark avoids your eyes almost fearfully, as if you were a detective questioning him for a crime. “can i see your boobs?” softer, this time.

you let out a shallow laugh. “don’t you watch porn? there are boobs there.”

mark blushes. “no! i mean, yes i do, but not real boobs.”

you cross your arms under your boobs on purpose, just to push them up a little higher to drive him nuts. mark sits back in his chair in frustration.

“so you think women aren’t real? that all boobs in porn are fake? jeez mark i thought you cared about women-“

“no! that’s not what i meant!” he says, exasperated. he continues to avoid eye contact with you. “of course i don’t think-“

you laugh again, keeling over. “relax mark, i know you don’t think all women are plastic.”

“look, there’s nothing wrong with being plastic, women can do whatever they-“ mark speaks quickly and nervously as if he were on trial.

“shut up minhyung,” you cut him off with a softer, more serious tone. “why do you want to see my boobs? you’re famous and cute. you could instantly find boobs wherever you go.”

he chuckles. “the word boob is so funny.”

“not the point, minhyung!”

he leans back over, the embarrassment slowly washing away. “stop calling me minhyung!”

“never, minhyung!” you retort without even thinking. you stand up to sit on his bed, now at eye level with him. “now, explain.”

“i… i dunno. i’ve just never seen boobs before. like, in person.”

you look directly at him, brain not even thinking anymore. words just fly out of your mouth with ease. “were you breastfed?”

“y/n!” he exclaims out of frustration. the embarrassment fizzles back in. he throws his head to the back of his chair and covers his eyes with his palm dramatically. he runs his hand down his face, tugging on the soft skin as it travels down. as his hand makes it back down to his lap, you giggle a little louder. “my mom’s boobs don’t fucking count. god, you made me think of my mom’s boobs. what the fuck?”

“sorry,” you manage in between giggles. “sorry, this is so funny.”

“this is impossible. i knew i shouldn’t have asked you.” mark pulls himself out of the chair and heads for the door, but you’re just as fast as him.

“now wait…” you grab his wrist to keep him from leaving. a wave of guilt washes over you. “i was just kidding.”

“were you? you didn’t sound like you were.” he says, his face still turned away from yours.

he sounds strangely hurt. “mark, are you okay?”

mark turns to face you and he looks defeated. he slumps down on the floor next to you, his knees up near his chest and his head in his hands.

“mark…”

“they were making fun of me.”

“who?”

“my friends! they were making fun of me. god, i sound like such an idiot now, whining about my friends like this, oh my god. i sound like a child.”

you rest your elbow on his shoulder giving your hand access to run through his soft, black hair. “you don’t sound like a child. you’re allowed to get upset.”

you take note at how the air shifted in the room. how quickly you focused and listened. you’re only like this around mark. with him, conversations can shift in an instant to anything. you understand each other on a deep, personal level. it’s something you don’t think you’ll ever have with another person for your entire life. maybe your soulmate. honestly? you can only dream to have this sort of connection with your soulmate, a connection so alive and so full of trust. is it even possible to have this with someone else? the fact that mark can make you think about how much he trusts you during a conversation about boobs is something only mark can make you feel. no one else. just him.

has it always been just him?

“it’s so stupid though. one minute lucas is bugging me about the fact that i’m a virgin and i’ve never seen boobs before and the next minute i’m on the floor of my bedroom with you, still not having seen any boobs mind you, nearly crying. damn. this is the lowest point i will ever reach.”

you push his hands away from his face and place your hands on his cheeks instead. “mark, please don’t cry. i hate it when you cry.”

the last time you saw mark cry was a month ago after watching a disney movie. seeing him cry just makes you cry, and since you were already crying, you just cried harder. seeing you cry makes him cry too, so he cried harder as well. the two of you just cried together until your heads hurt, to which you both took tylenols and tried to dance it off.

“i’m pathetic. insecure and pathetic.”

this is when you realize that there is more depth to his feelings than you thought.

“look, mark, i’ll show you my boobs. i trust you. i’m honestly surprised you haven’t seen them accidentally yet since i’ve known you for so long.” you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. didn‘t work. “but i get the feeling that there’s more to this then just boobs.”

mark never really vented to you like this before. despite how close you are, he still kept things from you growing up, as a teenage boy does. you never took offense to this, as you kept plenty from him too. he never quite talked about his insecurities, his fears. he didn’t want to burden you with them. mark, so sweet and thoughtful. maybe too much for his own good. he needs to learn to share things.

he's starting to, though.

it takes him a while to speak, avoiding your eyes entirely. he speaks lowly, as if he was scared to tell the world what he was about to say.

“it’s just… everything about this sucks. everything. i’m kinda scared to tell you things, which can make us drift apart because we lose trust. then again, if i do tell you things, i’m scared it’ll freak you out and i’ll lose you. those are both bad endings. then, i’m scared to put myself out into the world. like, lucas is telling me to just find someone. go out, ask for a number, have a good time, live like someone in their 20s should be living. i can’t really do it though. every time i try, i choke. lucas once tried to set me up, you remember that, right?”

“yeah, that was the girl who stood you up.”

“yeah. it’s awful. every time i try it fails. i’ve been trying to get to the bottom of why it fails every single time but i just couldn’t. but then, i realized.” he shifts and faces you causing your hands to fall off his face and into your lap. “when i came home after being stood up, i wasn’t sad. i forgot the moment i left the restaurant. i texted lucas that the date didn’t happen and just shut my phone off and went to your place. i wasn’t sad because i knew i had you. i knew that you were going to make me feel better and that made it all go away.” he pauses. “you know? sometimes i get worried that i put too much on you. you’re my happiness, my relaxation, my joy. i worry sometimes that you’ll suffocate because i take so much from being with you. i keep this in the back of my head all the time because i just don’t want you to go. ever.”

holy shit.

“mark…”

“let me finish. i talked about this with lucas, and he told me that i can let myself be selfish sometimes. he said that i can want this that… that i can want you. i can think about you and how you make me happy and i can want that happiness yesterday, today, and tomorrow, and the day after. shit, i care about you more than anything. my heart swells and my stomach gets all these annoying little butterflies when i think of you. it’s fucking crazy. and now, today, here i am. you know, lucas, jaemin and i were talking about girls and boobs and fuck i don’t know, jaemin said that i just had to get that intimacy with someone. and it just fucking clicked. the only person i want to be intimate with is you and i’m thinking now that maybe i was stupid for asking to see your boobs. which is so stupid, i could’ve just asked to kiss you or share a bed with you or i don’t know. i’m really sorry if that was gross of me. i just wasn’t thinking. it’s so damn hard to think straight when it comes to you. i just really want to be closer to you, however that might be.”

your heart races at a speed that doctors would deem impossible. you don’t know what to think or where to look. you feel like you’re going to explode. though, if you explode, he’ll probably explode too. that wouldn’t be good.

mark looks down. he fills with regret. he doesn’t think he should've said that. maybe you'll hate him now. maybe you’ve never felt this way about him before.

you inhale slowly, trying to convince your lungs that breathing is normal and not something that can just stop when hearing speeches like this.

what is the proper thing to say? mark i love you? but do you love him? everything is so confusing right now. of course you love him, but you never considered love in this way. can i kiss you? too forward? but he wants intimacy, and you want it too. i feel the same way? boring. you can do better. mark, and his way with words. so beautiful. how do you compete? mark, you’re beautiful. mark is so beautiful. you try so hard to compose the words. maybe too hard. maybe it’s okay to go with option 3.

now, they just flow out. “mark… i think i feel the same way you do. i don’t know it’s just- i’ve always felt some sort of way toward you. something is so special about you. i spent years trying to decipher it, thinking it was just something platonic or brotherly or i dunno. i just never considered… this. i don’t even know what to call this. but it feels right. you’ve always felt right.”

he has. and he always will. he looks at you so lovingly, his enamoured gaze stuck on you. you can’t look up at him, but he watches you.

you continue. “fuck, i don’t know what to say. i’m so… god.” you run your fingers through your hair, as if to comb your brain in search for the right words. “i think you’re so beautiful. everything about you. and i’m so fucking grateful to have someone as amazing as you in my life. i don’t know what i did to deserve someone like you, and i feel like i really don’t deserve you. but it feels right. to be with you. to be alone with you. it’s just right.”

you let a little tear trickle down your cheek. you know if you look up at him, you’ll probably cry harder. you know this well, yet you look up.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you either.” mark sighs. it’s his turn to wipe your tears now.

“so… what is this? what… are we?” you ask, melting into his hand, which somehow feels softer on your face.

“i don’t know. we can be whatever you want us to be.”

you playfully punch his shoulder, his hands sliding off your cheeks. “come on, you know i hate it when you say that.”

he gets defensive. “and you know i hate it when you hit me! you have a strong hand, yanno? shit!”

you laugh at him, clearing the last unwanted tear off your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “what can i say? gained strength from all those pillow fights over the years.”

“yeah, pillow fights i won.”

“shut up! you know i won the one at jeno’s party!”

mark laughs aloud. your favourite sound. “yeah, because everyone was drunk and you were still on your second drink. it was a very unevenly matched fight!”

“i still won!” you cross your arms and sit up straight as if you assert dominance over the conversation. who are you kidding? it’s all a joke anyways.

you crack after a moment and both of you erupt in a fit of giggles. his head falls into the crook of your neck, and it feels right. it’s almost as if your skin buzzed. you don’t know why, he’s done this many times before. but now, it’s different. the air has shifted again, so quickly. only with mark.

when he comes off of your neck, you stand up. you walk up to the door of his room, and lock it.

“y/n, what-“

you sit on his bed. “can’t have someone walk in while you’re ogling at my boobs, right? i know you and you’d never be able to live that down.”

mark is quick to stand up in defence. “what? no, we don’t have to do that anymore. i said my piece and im over the boob thing and-“

“shut up mark. you know you want to. and i kinda wanna show you too.”

he sits down on the bed across from you without another word but before either of you can move, he speaks again. “wait, kinda? please don’t feel obligated. only do this if you’re-“

“minhyung, please! i want to, ok? i really appreciate how you’re taking care of me but it’s fine. i trust you, and you trust me, right?”

he swallows hard. “right.”

“okay, perfect.” you pull your shirt off over your head, leaving you in your bra. if this was with any other boy, you’d be self conscious about literally everything: the bra you chose, the shape of your body, the hair in the places you let grow out. with mark, none of it matters now. he’s seen you in bathing suits before, this isn’t much different. and knowing how much he cares for you anyways, you know his head is clouded with praise and nothing less. his brain is working so fast right now, he probably won’t even register any imperfections.

“can i take your bra off?” mark sputters out as if he were holding onto the words for hours. “or wait, fuck-“

“yes, you can.”

he is almost shocked at your answer, and it shows. mark’s hands move slowly, his skin slightly cold as he grazes your skin. he leans in unbelievably close to wrap his arms around you to reach your back. he feels your breath on his chin, and your beautiful eyes look so sweet as you look up at him. when he finds the clasp, he kisses your nose as he pulls away, your bra coming back with him. you straighten your arms so the straps fall right off, showing your boobs.

mark is shocked. flabbergasted, even. his jaw almost drops in a shameless, teenaged boy way.

“dang. they’re so cute.”

you scoff. “cute? first boobs of your life and all you have to say is cute?”

“well what else can i say? i am not very well versed in the vast vocabulary that exists to describe your boobs.” he chuckles. “jeez, why is the word boob so fucking funny?”

you can’t help but smile timidly alongside him. that is what mark does, he makes you feel safe no matter what the situation. mark is always worried about you, worried if you are feeling comfortable and if you are okay with what is going on. he never wants things to be tense when you are around, because he hates to see you upset.

right now, you are the opposite of upset.

“y/n,” he brings your attention back to him. you hum in response. “can i touch?”

you freeze for a moment, and nod timidly. mark scoots a little bit closer, and reaches out with his right hand to gently cup your left breast. his hand is warm, and your skin needs a second to adjust to his temperature. he squeezes the flesh in the absolute slightest way, and quickly brings his hand back. he laughs almost exasperated.

“oh my god, it’s squishy? boobs are squishy?! why did that never register in my head?” he laughs loudly, as if he had just discovered something monumental.

“you’re just finding out now? oh my god mark, that’s common knowledge!”

mark looks down, his cheeks red from laughing. “dang, i’m so touch starved that i never knew until now that boobs are squishy. insanity.”

“the more you bring it up, the sadder it gets.” you reply.

he looks up at you with scrunched eyebrows. “don’t be mean. can i touch again?”

“yes, you can.”

mark cups your left boob with his right hand again, this time running his thumb softly over the supple skin. he doesn’t know what his limits are yet. can he go further? can he touch other parts of your boobs? can he touch other parts of your body? he is scared of going too fast and scaring you. mark is doing his very best today to be as careful as possible, as this is probably, remarkably, the best day of his life so far.

he pushes his index finger into your boob gently to poke it, and you laugh softly. at this point, you are just looking down at mark’s hand on your body. honestly, the fact that he isn’t doing anything is almost relaxing.

you look at how slowly his finger moves, like your skin is made up of the most delicate material in the world. he holds you with such care, such control. it is a feeling you want to feel again, and again, and again.

mark inhales slowly. he wants to go further. he wants more. he doesn’t know how you feel yet, but he will wait for you every step of the way.

but just as he opens his mouth, he hears a thud on his door. “mark hyung, we’re home! is y/n here? come eat with us!”

you both jump, as jaemin’s loud voice destroys the entire atmosphere. mark turns a cute shade of pink almost immediately, and takes his hand off of your skin. you are surprised at first, but lose all tension as you watch mark’s reaction. the poor boy is so embarrassed, but even more upset at how shortly your time was cut off. you laugh as he grabs your bra and tries to put it back on you. unfortunately, he cannot figure out how to close the back shut.

“i’m here! we’ll be there in a sec.” you shout, sparing mark from saying something stupid. you clip your bra straps together, and pull your shirt back on.

mark looks upset. “i’m so sorry they cut us off. they were supposed to be out all day, fuck. i’m sorry-”

“mark, baby, it’s okay. you didn’t know. besides, this isn’t ending here.”

mark looks up at you. “baby?”

“oh gosh, i don’t know where that came from. i’m sorry.”

“no no, its cute. i like it. baby. it just…”

“makes sense?”

he nods. “yeah. this makes sense. it really does.”

mark’s heart pounds in his chest as he takes your hands in his. today, they feel softer, warmer. he inhales sharply once again, hoping this time jaemin doesn’t break his door down, or something of the sort.

his thumb does the thing again, rubbing your skin gently. “y/n, i don’t want to be friends anymore. i think we are more than friends.”

you smile. “i do too. this makes sense.”

mark feels like he is going to explode. that would be bad though, because if he exploded, you would too. that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

“so i guess you’re my girlfriend now.”

you giggle softly. “that sounds so much better than best friend.”

“dang, it kinda does, doesn’t it?”

you let go of his hands and climb off his bed. he follows instantly after you do. right before you go to unlock the door, mark takes your hand once again, and turns you to face him.

you heart races as you lock eyes with him. you cannot believe everything that happened today. how your best friend, who you’d known for your whole life, confessed everything he felt for you, and poked your boobs mere minutes after. and that’s okay, because that’s mark. your mark.

“do we have to go down? i really want to see your boobs again.”

you lean over and place a kiss on his cheek, which causes him to lose his train of thought completely. “you’ll see them again soon, i promise. but if we don’t go down, jaemin will come upstairs and try opening your door. you know him, he’ll freak out when he sees that it’s locked. we’d get found out before we even have a chance to start.”

mark sighs. “fine. no more boobs today. guess i’ll just have to suffer without your boobs in my hands. shit, how am i going to survive?”

you unlock the door, and twist the handle. “well baby, i guess you’ll have to figure it out.”

[parachutingkitten]

Y'all suck at dissecting Kai's character, so I guess I have to do it.

And I'm not even a Kai stan. He's a bottom tier ninja for me, which I guess means you can trust me, cuz I'm not biased, but also why am I the one doing this? I don't know about y'all, but recently on my dash, the method by which Kai fans try to make him sound good is... saying the writers hate him, ignore him, and that he isn't written well? Which... I mean there is a little bit of truth to, but like yikes guys, is this the best you got? Kai is a wonderful character with plenty of attention from the writers, a meaningful piece of the cast when put in secondary rolls, fairly consistent character writing with actual progression and valuable qualities that help the team without having to be the smart one- despite what some posts might tell you.

Let's get one thing cleared up: Ninjago isn't the best written show. By high level Hollywood standards, most the character arcs are kinda weak or too heavy handed, character consistency can be iffy, and most things serve the plot rather than the characters. There is no character you can point to and say "wow, this character is written so well! No complaints!" Nya and Jay were butchered by their weird love plot, Cole's one season doesn't actually give him an arc, Zane's been nothing but the robot numbers guy for like 10 seasons now, and Lloyd seems to be incapable of doing anything but relive the same one piece of dad angst for depth. Sorry, it's true. All the characters suck when you look at it from a large scale writing perspective. So when I say Kai is well written, I mean by ninjago kids show standards- cuz that's the scale we're working on. No, you couldn't drop Kai into a well written drama, but as far as ninjago goes... he's got a lot going for him, and by no means is he the biggest victim of poor writing.

(fair warning, wall of text below)

The title is a bit disingenuous. There are plenty of good Kai character break downs. What I am presenting here is a more positive perspective. On the whole, I will tend to give the writers the benefit of the doubt, and credit for what they do right writing is hard guys. That's what I'm doing here. I don't see much sense in getting mad the writers on behalf of Kai, or any other character. Ninjago is a simplistic ensemble show that works because of the identifiable simplicity of its main characters with some deeper layers hidden underneath if you keep watching. They've given us a damn good show with some damn enjoyable characters, so here are some criticisms I feel are a little flawed:

First, let's get the 'focus' thing out of the way. Apparently there are people saying Kai doesn't have a season yet? Which... what? I mean, I get that the pilots aren't a full season, the first two seasons, though he is the central protagonist, aren't "Kai seasons" as we've come to define ninja focus seasons, season 7, though he gets majority focus, he shares with his sister. But like... did y'all just forget about season 4? You know, the season where he had the title card, was on the box sets, got the love interest, and the majority of the A-plot? not to mention it's the best season don't @ me Like... if season 4 isn't a Kai season, I can make a damn good argument that season 3 isn't a Zane season, and I doubt anyone wants to go down that rabbit hole. I really can't wrap my head around this one. And I get that the fandom hates season 11 for some reason, but like you can't just pretend it doesn't exist. Kai has a consistent arc across 30 episodes in which he takes his powers for granted, loses them, and learns that, not only does he have value within the team without them, but that his element is intrinsically a part of him that he reclaims, bringing them back more powerful than ever, and with new respect for them. That's one of the most solid arcs in the whole series- the location is even thematically connected to his element. That's some good stuff right there! (Quick plug for season 11 if you haven't watched it in a while. Give it a rewatch, you might be pleasantly surprised)

Not to mention the writers give him fun side stuff all the time. Lots of fears of tech and water to overcome, a deep protective streak with Lloyd, becoming a chancellor, having a true potential actually relevant to the plot as a whole, blacksmith responsibilities, befriending dragons, hanging out with his dad. Not to mention actual focus stuff we haven't talked about yet, like his whole "my dad is evil" phase, and his "I might be evil" phase with him and Skylor. And on top of that, even when he doesn't have an explicit side plot, he's always just a fun and dynamic side character to make jokes or give exposition.

Now, into character stuff. Let's start with Kai's hot headed-ness. Some people say he's been loosing this quality, and I will admit, that's true! But those that claim this makes him inconsistent... I strongly disagree. In early seasons, Kai's temper would lead him to snap at his friends or make stupid decisions that set the team back (see episode 2 Zane freak out)- these are bad things. These are character flaws, yes? Now, in newer seasons, people say that he's inconsistent, cuz sometimes he'll be hot headed, and sometimes he won't. I'd say, this is exactly how being hot headed... works? It flares up without warning, and as an individual gets control of it, it'll pop up less and less often because they're channeling it into productive things - like say directing the anger towards an enemy (see season 11 end freak out). Kai has gained control of a character flaw, and though it still pops up on occasion, the fact that it's a once in a while kind of thing speaks to his growth. I have a little brother who has this exact personality, and watching him grow up, I can tell you, this is how it is. He used to snap all the time, and he still does sometimes, but much less frequently, because he's a more mature person with better control of his emotions. This is a good thing. This is overcoming personal flaws. This is progression we're seeing.

And while you're hyper focused on this one aspect of him, things like his cocky confidence haven't changed a bit. I mean, that season 3 bit between him and Pixal, and his season 11 "fire maker" streak have the exact same energy. You can not convince me otherwise.

Another adjacent quality that hasn't been dampened is Kai's impulsiveness. This can be a good quality of his, he'll get into a fight without thinking, getting the jump on the enemy. Good stuff. But, this has become such a well defined trait of Kai's that it has been used in a comedic capacity. This is what happens when a character is extremely consistent to the extent that both the audience and the characters in universe would be able to predict their actions. Kai's impulsivity used to be a more serious quality that put himself and others at risk, and was a big power move whenever he did something rash, but it's become such a staple of the show that it's now being used for comedy. That isn't Kai's impulsivity going away, that's Kai's impulsivity being recontextualized for the sake of the show. The season 9 "Who's stupid enough to jump on that thing" isn't a joke at the expense of Kai just for being dumb, it's a joke at Kai's being so predictably impulsive that everyone already knows he'll be the one to put himself in an insane amount of danger without thinking twice (you know, something stupid that might get him killed). But because in this instance, the danger is warranted, this is bravery. It's a complement to his character- it's what ends up defeating the colossus. Why are some people so bothered by this joke?

Oh right, cuz for some reason people want to peg Kai as the smart one? Look, Kai isn't stupid, none of the ninja are. All of them have smart moments (all of them have dumb ones too) and Kai can certainly handle himself, but "smart" is definitely not one of his defining characteristics- I think some people are confusing smart for his actual strength. Connected to his impulsivity, Kai has very good simplistic instincts. He sees the big picture and looks at the most surface level solution- which when the situation calls for it, that does indeed make him smart. But the same logic that led him to think "This snake has a glowing target on its head, lets hit it" also led him to think "I'm in a video game, therefore I am immortal." Are you really going to look at me and say he figured out Lloyd was the green ninja through logical deduction and a careful consideration of the facts? No. He had a gut feeling, and he trusted it. Instincts- instincts paired with his impulsive following of said instincts is what leads him to solve problems- and sometimes, that can be extremely effective. This goes for other ninja too. Jay isn't the smartest ninja- I would really only classify Zane and Nya as having intelligence define them (hence their ship name). But Jay is extremely creative and crafty. He also knows his was around mechanics, and as such, this will lead him to come up with creative tech based solutions which are smart. But, idk about you, if I had to point to another ninja as being 'dumb' it would 100% be Jay. Kai is a lot of things. He's passionate and determined and confident and persistent. He's a good improvisor, he's powerful and he's charming! These are all wonderful qualities, he doesn't also have to be the smart one. I am the worlds biggest Pixal stan, and she's a smart, sassy, powerful character, but I'm not gonna sit here and tell you she's also hilarious and adaptable and strong willed. She's a straight man to all the ninja's antics, extremely tied to her samurai x suit, and lets people push her around all the time. That doesn't mean she can't be funny, or self interested, but when she does act these ways, it stems from her other more prominent qualities. That make sense?

And while we're clearing up what Kai isn't, please stop characterizing Kai as an overly protective brother - especially romantically. The only two times he's been romantically protective to Nya are in Wu's Teas which I mean, come on and in the pilots when Jay is literally a stranger. For crying out loud, by the end of the pilot, he's smiling when Jay and Nya hug. That's not overly protective, that's just normal, any reasonable person would react this way, protective. And it's such a great stereotype break for a kids show like ninjago, having an older brother who actually trusts his younger sister to be her own independent person who can make her own decisions. I mean, I guess it's fine if you HC differently but like... idk, I don't buy it.

Now, is there still room to criticize the writers? Yes. Hell yes. But not to an extent greater than any other character. Could he have had more of a defined reaction to events of the most recent season that I won't name for the sake of spoilers? Yes. But could Zane have reacted for more than .5 seconds at being an evil war lord for apparently 60 years? Yeah. Has Kai taken a back seat in the past 4 seasons? Yeah. But so has Lloyd- and he's literally the main character of the show. Not to mention two of those seasons have gone to people who had to wait over ten seasons to get one to themselves, and one of them is a 40 minute special. Kai's doing just fine.

Anyway. Kai is great. He's a fun, stereotype breaking, impulsively driven, ball of energy and confidence who gets a good amount of screen time and some fun side plots.

One last thing to clear up: no hate to anyone. This isn't targeted at anyone specific, this post has been a long time coming, I've just seen some weird overblown claims on various platforms over the past few months and I finally sat down to write about it.

I like the Kai content we have. After all, if the writers were really that bad at writing him, then no one would like him.

Wow this was so much longer than I thought it would be. Um... if you have other long winded rants you'd like to see from me... let me know I guess?

[acidiluc]

signs.

synopsis: all you know is that the signs never lie. angst. 1774 words.

note: bon appétit, angst lovers. i'm still trying to find my writing style and rhythm,, so please do tell what you think! i was gonna try and avoid cliché themes but i think it still turned out as cliché fkdjfskdfl.

i wanna try writing unique themes so if you have any ideas you wanna share, please do! 😩

meeting kuroo was probably the best moment of your life. and you’re not even kidding. you fell in love with him the first time you interacted with him—and it was during a volleyball meeting. you were the girls’ volleyball team captain and he was the boys’ vball team captain. his loud, charismatic, handsome, and brainy ass has caught your attention. and unfortunately, you’re now one of his fangirls. lowkey.

when he approached you during the conference, he was complaining about how boring the speaker was (even though he was still listening to what the speaker was saying). meanwhile your heart was already complaining about how handsome he is. he started talking to you during the conference and it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. 

after the interaction with him during the conference, you and kuroo started seeing each other and interacting more— he would greet you whenever you pass by each other in the hallway or the cafeteria, or even buy you a drink during lunch, and start exchanging stories. he’s just... tHE PERFECT IDEAL MAN.

this was your first and last year as a team captain. you developed passion for the sport once you joined the volleyball club; training intensely through the years. during the first few years, it frustrated you whenever other schools would reject joint practices with your team. unlike with nekoma’s boys’ volleyball team, they had connections with other schools and a pretty good reputation that gave them easy access to joint practices. it was the awakening of something in you. you trained harder and got better and better and better, achieving the position of team captain. and you swore that during your reign, you will bring light to your team. you will make your team a remarkable team.

since no school was willing to have joint practices with your team, you personally approached your coaches alone and proposed to have joint trainings with the boys’ volleyball team instead. much to your surprise, they agreed. it was the perfect training you were looking for. the boys’ volleyball team was strong and experienced, it will have a different level of intensity of training. and you were already craving the thrill and pressure of it. and kuroo’s handsome face.

just as you expected, the trainings were really on another level. your team lost countless times but this only pushed you and the others to do better. these training days also brought you and kuroo closer to each other. he often teased you that your team will never win against his, bought you more drinks, and even introduced you to his best friend and teammates. this honestly had you wondering if... he felt the same. so after that, you decided to observe him whenever he interacted with you to take hints! so far, you only had three signs.

prefectural tournaments were near and you were getting confident as days passed by since your team was now starting to win against the boys’ vball team. “i’d never win against your team, huh?” you smirked, approaching kuroo with two drinks from a vending machine. you offered him one of them and kuroo gladly took it from you, smirking back. “you cheated.” he said, making the two of you laugh together. 

once the prefectural tournaments came, it wasn’t easy on you. the stress, the exhaustion, and the pressure were trying to eat you alive during matches but... you didn’t train and work hard to just easily give up. your team started climbing its way to the top, winning every match before getting in the prefectural qualifiers for the nationals— for you, it was a big victory already. 

you successfully shone some light to your team and made it somehow remarkable.

kuroo excitedly made his way to you after the tournament, giving you a big hug with forehead kisses, exchanging congratulatories with you. any stranger would think that you two were a couple at that point. so... sign number four? 

after the prefectural tournaments, everything went back to normal. despite not having joint practices for now, your closeness with kuroo never dissipated. 

once the class bell rang, you immediately stood up from your seat to get yourself a drink from a vending machine, only to be stopped by kuroo by the classroom door. he smiled down at you and booped your nose with the drink he has in hand, “your favorite.” he said, “you didn't have to, tetsu but... thank you” you smiled, but before you could even reach for the drink, kuroo retracted his hand that was holding the drink, making you frown in confusion. 

“give me your number first.” he said, handing you his phone with a smirk. you raised a brow at him and chuckled, “geez, you want to talk to me more, huh? you got a crush on me or something?” you joked as you took his phone and typed in your number, naming the contact: y/n <33.

“so what if i do?” he asked, feeling your heart flutter. damn you, kuroo. you looked up at him and raised a brow while giving his phone back. the taller man only chuckled, “what? it’s just weird we’ve been friends for a while now without having each other’s number.” he said, handing you your drink. he looked behind you as he heard his name being called before looking back down at you and gave you a smile, “i’ll text you, y/n!” he said before jogging down the hall to his friend. uhm, sign number five?

weeks have passed and joint trainings are now a thing again, but not with the boys’ volleyball team anymore! your team’s plays during the prefectural tournament got the attention of other schools, making them reach out to nekoma to have joint trainings with your team.

your days were getting busier now that the nationals is nearing. and the joint trainings were considered the missing puzzle piece for your team— experience. your team lacked experience to be able to come up with new strategies and moves, and it was a great thing to have other schools reach out to train with your team. you and the team’s manager noticed this flaw during the prefectural tournaments. and despite winning most of the joint training matches, your team was still very thankful since there was a lot your team has learned, and new friendships and connections has formed at the same time!

you and kuroo are now closer than ever. now that you have each other’s number— the two of you would often send memes to each other, exchange selfies, send each other things that remind you of each other from the internet, and greet each other good morning and good night texts. there were too many signs to count now. at this point, you were confident that kuroo felt the same.

tomorrow is the day every prefectural qualifiers has been waiting for. the nationals. and you weren’t really that nervous or stressed for it— win or lose, you know you're gonna give it your best either way. instead, you were nervous because... guess what? kuroo offered to walk you home! since he found out that he only lives a few blocks away from you through text.

you were now sure that kuroo felt the same, and you have decided to tell him about your feelings on your walk home. you’re not sure as to how it’s gonna end but you know— you know that kuroo felt the same.

as the last joint training has finished, you excitedly walked towards the school gate to meet with kuroo. “hey, dumbass” you greeted with a lazy smile. kuroo looked up at you from his phone and smiled, “hey, angel.” he greeted back, “how was fukurodani’s girls’ volleyball team?” he asked, taking the backpack you were clutching so he could carry it instead. the two of you exchanged stories as kuroo walked you home, laughing together from time to time. it was nice to walk with him like this. and you wished this could happen everyday.

once you arrived by your street, you stopped walking and sighed softly. kuroo stopped walking as well, turning to you as he sipped on his empty juice box, making loud noises come from the box. “what? what’s wrong?” kuroo asked.

“tetsu, i—" you started, taking a deep breath first before blurting it out. "i’m not really good at confessions but... i’ve been wanting to tell you that i like you for a while now.” you said, face heating up as you gathered all the courage you had in you as you stood in front of the man you were madly crushing on. “i liked you ever since you talked to me in that conference meeting and you just make me feel... really special, you know? with your stupidly cute gestures an— and sweet words. i just feel that there's something special in our connection. i was confident to even tell you this because you seemed like you’ve also been dropping these signs and hints that you felt the same. i— i just... i like you, tetsurou. i like you more than just a friend.” you said, fidgeting with the milk box you were holding as you stared up at him, waiting for his response.

tetsurou held a shocked expression on his face. he stared back down at you with his mouth agape, taking his time to gather his thoughts and words. “i— i uhm...” he started, hand moving to clutch the strap of your backpack. “i— i think you’ve mistaken the ‘signs’, y/n.” he muttered quietly.

and with that, you felt your heart drop. no. you were sure that kuroo felt the same. you wouldn’t confess if you weren’t sure of it. “...mistaken?” you asked quietly, just enough for him to hear. kuroo sighed and scratched the back of his neck, “i like you too, y/n, but only as a friend.” he said, "i— i'm sorry but... i don't see you the way you see me."

you felt stupid. you felt like the dumbest person alive as you stood in front of him. of fucking course he won't feel the same, what the hell were you thinking?!

you looked away from kuroo and breathed a laugh, "how foolish of me... i'm sorry for making you uncomfortable, kuroo." you said, taking your backpack from him. "well, uh—" you started, clearing your throat as you looked around. "we're on my street now." you chuckled awkwardly, feeling tears start to slightly cloud your eyes. "thank you for walking me home. i wish your team a good luck for tomorrow's nationals." you muttered, giving him a small bow before walking off to your house, not even waiting for his response anymore.

stupid fucking signs.

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[smol-jinyoungie96]

Devil Judge - Episode 5 (i’m not okay)

Right! So review timeeeee this is a long one lol

I love the opening. Facts

This man clearly carries a lot of burden but he loves his brother so much.

Watching the first part made me wonder if they are trying to make the viewers think if he really killed his brother and is guilty, hence the nightmares of his dead brother standing in the middle of his room, or is it because he feels guilty that he was only able to save Elijah and himself… either way they kinda show us that there is guilt somewhere in him.

When Elijah comes to his room she says about him not waking up like that before, could mean that Ga On’s presence is worsening his guilty conscious, or from my perspective, i just think that 10 years worth of forcibly trampled down trauma is threatening to explode.

Devil judge or not, no one can control that amount of severe trauma for long.

Next point! Kim Ga On is so sweet with a kind heart, he initially joined the court to spy on Yohan but just based on him clawing open unhealed wounds, he feels so deeply for Yohan to the point he is willing to quit the bench just so Yohan doesn’t have to look at him and see his brother’s face every time.

He tries to relate to Yohan on an emotional level that they both feel due to losing their loved ones. But a few things that I noticed is that when Yohan says,

“I certainly don’t want to hear that from someone that looks like him”

Again, being called the devil judge or not, but having someone who shares the same face as his brother accusing him of killing the said brother has to hurt deep down.

2. “I wonder how much you’ve discovered”

To me, i think that Yohan knew from the beginning that Ga On was looking into him, and yet he has Ga On in a place where Bambi himself admits to it.

3. “I don’t remember asking you to understand me”

I feel like he is intentionally pretending to push Ga On away because he knows that Bambi will do the exact opposite. It is literally in Ga On’s blood to always try and sympathise with anyone who has any sort of emotional baggage. He knows he can lure Ga On more towards him if he pushed the right buttons.

One part that stuck to me the most is when Ga On says

“hunters mask their scent completely, until the time is right”

Could it be foreshadowing?

It could hint towards him fooling Ga On to believing him until it is too late for Bambi to realise because well, Ga On falls for any heartbreaking story.

But at the same time it is also similar to the way Yohan is so close with the rich socialites to win their trust until the time is right for him to finally reveal that he is in fact a hunter and they’ve been his prey all along.

When Ga On leaves Yohan says that “it’s weird because I’ve never experienced that before”

That, being another human being connecting to him on such a deep emotional level and that’s something he hasn’t felt for almost ten years.

The way he talks about Ga On relating to him with an expression of awe makes me think that it could also be a fact as to why Yohan has this obsession with Ga On.

The minister’s interview was a clever way to show the people that despite being a mother she is a person who has her duty towards the country as a priority but also wanting to make the public question Yohan’s morals.

Please look at his fond little smile,

it’s a genuine reaction to Ga On tricking him into eating proper food by mentioning wrinkles and his age 💀 but also, signs to say that the little annoying pest is growing on him.

The scene with Ga On and Soo Hyun, they talk about the fire and there’s one line that Soo hyun says,

“The list of attendees to the ceremony was covered up, that’s not something Kang Yohan could’ve done 10 years ago. That takes controlling the press and prosecution”

A clear indication that someone who held power over both media and the prosecution was involved in the accident.

Everything Ga On has seen so far after he joined the live show has terrorised him so much but he is still worried about Soo Hyun because he has seen things that she hasn’t.. even when she’s a cop.. even when the reason she became a cop in the first place is because she want to help him and to keep him out of trouble.

Their bond is so pure and cute.

THE TRIAL

The beginning was so cute with the sweetest welcome back to Ga On and then there’s Yohan giving him a fond smile as if Ga On was actually on death’s doorstep and not snooping around his house arguing with a nanny about not being sleeping beauty..

The case was a set up from the get go. It was just a trap from the beginning to push Yohan to a corner.

They wanted him to have no where to turn to when prosecution suggested “physical castration” (gross) because if he gave into the requested sentence,

they would very easily twist it into making him look like a sadistic monster and if he didn’t give in and went with the 20 years of prison time requested by the defendant,

that would make him look like just another person who doesn’t bother with taking people’ opinion into consideration. Which would make his own statements from the first episode wildly contradicting to what he went with.

Even the stupid lawyer tries so hard to push him to this corner by repeating “this is what the majority wants” but Kang Yohan is definitely smarter than they give him credit for because he puts the pieces together as soon as Jung Sun Ah sets foot inside the court room.

I love that Ga On as a judge as come to a point where he genuinely relied on Yohan as to what they were going to do instead of directly challenging his authority like he had done in the first case. Another sign that Ga On is starting to trust his boss.

Jung Sun Ah thinks! That she has him helpless but then this man turns the whole game upside down. (Even here, it’s really just a game in the name of justice, it is a power play between two sides)

If the minister and Jung Sun Ah thought they were a step ahead of Yohan, he definitely proved that he is ten steps ahead of them when he gave that sentence.

I completely adore the trust Ga On and Jin Joo has on their boss. Especially the way Ga On shares a real relieved smile with Jin Joo and the way he looks so relieved that things weren’t going to be as bad as he thought.

Teen Ga On was definitely a delinquent. The sight is just ✨

Another important point is that just when he learns to trust his boss, now he is struggling,

Because from one side there’s Kang Yohan asking him is he’s going to stand by him or stand against him,

And on the other hand there’s the Chief Justice asking him to choose between being an accomplice or an informant.

They’re both essentially asking him to pick a side and it looks like they’re pulling him back and forth between themselves. He’s struggling because as much as he wants to stand by Yohan, he can see that Yohan’s approach to justice is being adapted by the public,

For an example when those three kids were playing, it gives him a notion that the barbaric flogging system is now being used as a playing method by kids.. kids. It genuinely seemed to scare him that the way those kids were laughing and smiling while playfully hitting the small boy.

Kim Ga On is shown as this impulsive, level headed judge with a black and white sense of Justice but he too carries a lot of pain and burden similar to Yohan. But in his case, he’s being put on the spot between the two sides, eventually it will be him who has to face the consequences if he chooses the wrong side.

And being on the wrong side of Kang Yohan doesn’t really seem to be the smartest thing at the moment.

Going back to Kang Yohan and Kim Ga On, i like the way Bambi calls Yohan out for implying that being a monster is better than being a victim when he’s not brave enough to face his own pain.

That genuine shock on Yohan’s face is enough to show that Kim Ga On is really out there pulling out this man’s traumas one by one like he’s pulling out grass from the ground.

Again it shows how much Yohan is suffering inside because ultimately, that mansion is just a giant nightmare for him.

JUNG SUN AH/KANG YOHAN

first of all.

CONSENT!

i felt bad for Yohan.

But Jung Sun Ah is really obsessed with him to the point she jumped from the second floor just because he said he to, when Yohan came to a place of power, she worked herself to her own place of power. Her obsession with him runs too deep.

Tomorrow’s episode is already making me nervous because i feel like Jung Sun Ah is going to use Soo Hyun to drive a wedge between Yohan and Ga On.

If he did his homework on Ga On. I’m sure she has done hers as well.

More or less, Episode 5 was like the calm before the storm.

Unsurprisingly, i hate storms.

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for listening to me ranting.

Please send help

[nanamikentoslutt]

Reiner x FemReader 18+ smut

Triggers: This is 18+ NSFW. Slight degradation, cum play, vaginal sex, stretching, choking

Words: 3.2k

Synopsis: You're thinking of leaving the scouts when Reiner convinces you to stay. AOT universe.

It was only your second week in the scouts regiment and you’d already felt like you’d made the wrong decision. Your lack of titan kills on the training field today was the last straw for you to request a transfer. You knew you just weren’t up for the job, you could better use your skills elsewhere. You couldn’t stop thinking about the friends you’d made in such a short period of time though. You wasn’t quite sure how to say goodbye, you felt stupid for thinking they’d even miss you that much considering how long you’d known each other.

Your mind was already made up and making your way through the grounds to the mess hall you decided you’d tell everyone over dinner and hopefully be dismissed by morning. Grabbing a tray you take your food and try to find your space.

“Here she is, y/n, I didn’t see you at practice?” Connie shouts, waving one arm up in the air at you while the other is busy with a piece of bread. Sitting down at the table next to him the usual gang was already there.

“Yeah, where were you y/n?” Sasha chimed in, a mouth full of food, occupied on what was on her plate but still asking with sincerity in her voice.

“I’m sorry I forgot to say that after training today I had to take a break, I know it’s only been a couple weeks but I’m thinking about transferring tomorrow.”

The entire table looked at you, shocked at the words that had left your mouth. Eren who was towards the end of table arguing with Jean now focused completely on you, “but you can’t go yet y/n, you haven’t even properly finished training!” Eren’s face looking at you earnestly, almost as if he was truly sad to see you go. This immediate reaction from everyone did surprise you, as it really had only been a couple weeks.

“Yeah, I know but It’s just not for me, I’m not like you guys. I didn’t make the top 10 and I’m surprised they even let me in in the first place.”

With everyone’s attention still on you, you started to feel a bit sorry for yourself and didn’t mean for it to come off so… sad. Trying to lighten up the mood you nudge Connie on the side with your elbow.

“Oi! Hey, what was that for!”

Over dramatically rubbing his arm you giggle into your chest a little. “Wow, I didn’t know you guys were so obsessed with me?”

A chorus of “oh come on!” and “Nobody said that now Y/N.” left the table, everyone returning to their meals and taking their eyes off of you now chuckling but still wanting to enquire.

Reiner who was sitting opposite you however didn’t take his eyes off of you, he was watching your face with deep concern, almost studying the way you’d immediately returned to a more sombre expression. Reiner had no shame about staring at you either, every now and then you’d glance up from your plate and see him still analysing your face. His elbows on the table, and his hands folded into one another placed under his chin.

You finished your meal and said your goodbyes to everyone, promising to give a proper goodbye in the morning when everyone was together properly. Placing your stray down you glanced back towards the table to see that Reiner had also got up and left. The reaction from everyone at the table was making you second guess your decision now, you hadn’t expected everyone to be so close. Either way you promised you’d at least sleep on it and decide first thing in the morning.

You headed for the showers to clean up before bed, the sun had already set and it was getting late but you wanted to wash and clear your head a little bit. The perks of showering so late meant you got the whole room to yourself and you could spend a little more time in there.

Turning off the shower you heard the shower room door creak open, not being able to see through the steam you waved your arm around frantically looking for a towel. It was so late you hadn’t expected anyone to disturb you.

“Hey! I’m in here!” You cried out. Clumsily wrapping the towel around your torso, desperately trying to cover your nipples from falling out on view.

“Yeah and now I’m here too.”

You recognised the sarcastic voice instantly, it was deep and low and almost sounded unbothered. Reiner had walked in, a towel rolled up in his hand, shirt off and only his trousers on. Walking towards you the steam had now separated enough for you to see each other.

“Oh hey, y/n. I’m sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be in here this late. I’ll let you finish up.”

Turning around and heading back towards the door you lifted the towel that was slowly slipping from your chest back up- “No, it’s fine Reiner. I was just about to leave actually, it’s all yours.”

Reiner stopped in his tracks and turned around back to you halfway. Not quite sure where to place his eyes, he kept his head down, not wanting to offend you. Every now and then though he’d try and sneak a glance at you while he watched you pick up the remainder of your clothes. He’d never admitted it before but Reiner loved your body, watching you fall over countless times in practise and always running to help you back up. He loved the way the scouts uniform looked around your thighs, it was his weird weakness. Watching you bend over he got locked into a trance and now all the gentlemanliness he’d tried to maintain had gone out the window.

You finished picking up your uniform and got up to face Reiner, turning around you were shocked to see his eyes on you, it made your cheeks blush slightly. Standing naked with nothing but a towel on you realised how the whole situation looked and could understand Reiner’s feral looks.

“y/n, i’m sorry I was just-”

“It’s cool Reiner, I'm a girl, you’re a guy. I’m soaking wet and pretty much naked. It’s no biggy.”

Reiner let out a quiet chuckle as his eyes turned back down to the tiles as you scooched past him, feeling like a schoolboy that had just been caught with his cock in his hand.

Opening up the door Reiner swiftly turned to you “Hey! I wanted to say earlier I don’t think you should leave the scouts. You didn’t make the top ten but you’re still good.”

Your eyes now fixed onto his, one hand keeping your towel up and the other holding your clothes you felt like this was the worst time for him to say this.

“You fall over in training and me and Bert have had to save your ass a few times in those big ass trees but you’re still better than half the people here. You’re strategic and have helped us out more times than I can count. It’s why no one wants you to go.”

Your eyes now widening onto Reiner’s face you felt an overwhelming feeling, you didn’t know how to respond. Hearing that from someone like Reiner made you rethink your entire approach. You almost felt teary.

“Reiner, I.. um.. Thank you. But nothing is set in stone yet, I promised I'd sleep on it.”

“Right, of course. I just wanted you to know I’d miss you if left, Y/N.”

His eyes back onto you, now glossy and endearing. He took a few slow steps closer to you while you were still transfixed onto his face.In a moment he was now an arms length away from you. You’d been close to Reiner plenty of times but never while he was shirtless and never while you were wet and naked. You were now titling your head to look up to him, his frame almost twice the size as yours, was he always this big? His torso was now glistening from the heat the shower had left and moving your eyeline down to his arms you felt a warm feeling between your legs.

“I’d miss you too, Reiner.”

Your bodies were now inches away from each other and the silence that filled the room was becoming heavy. Reiner’s face now accompanied a small smirk, unlike his well-mannered demeanor earlier. Your face was level with his chest he was so tall, your breath now staggered he could feel you blushing.

Almost pointing out how small you are compared to him he bent over slightly to come down to your height, he was now in your face grinning.

“Why don’t I give you something to miss?”

The warm feeling in between your legs was starting to grow. Grabbing your hand that was keeping up the towel against your torso, Reiner pulled it to the side and with your hand in his you both let it drop, you were now standing completely naked in front of him. The wet of your hair sliding down your chest over your nipples made Reiner’s cock twitch beneath his trousers.

Grabbing your waist with both hands Reiner pulled his face onto yours and hungrily started to move his tongue in your mouth. His hands slid down to below your ass cheeks and he squeezed them hard enough for you to moan into his mouth. He tapped on your ass cheek as if to signal to hop up onto him and without hesitation you did. Holding you up you were now straddling Reiner’s torso and devouring each other’s face, coming up every now and then for a breath with a small line of saliva connecting you two.

You weren’t a virgin by any means but it had been so long since you’d gotten fucked that this feral-like heat rained over your body leaving you desperate for Reiner’s touch.

Carrying your entire weight in his arms effortlessly he slowly started to walk backwards until his back hit a wall, your lips still glued to each other he gently lowered himself down on the shower bench.

You were now straddling his lap fully naked while he was tracing sloppy kisses down your neck getting rougher each time you moaned out. “Fuck, reiner-” Hearing you say his name like a desperate slut made the tent in his trousers grow and you felt it brush against your now slick cunt. “Fuck that feels so good.” you breathed over Reiner’s head, his face and mouth deep in your chest, running his wet tongue over your nipple and grazing it slightly, looking back up to you, testing the waters to see how rough you could take it. Moving your hips in a quick thrusting motion, desperate to feel the friction over your pussy, Reiner pulls back and looks straight at you and lets out a small laugh. “Desperate are we?”. Your face hot with embarrassment and lust your cheeks start to glow, you don’t know how to reply so you start nodding while making noises. “Mhm, mmm I.. mmmm”. Reiner loves seeing you desperate and needy for his cock, it hasn’t even been ten minutes and he’s already worked you up into a drooling cock hungry mess. Falling back into your face his hand swiftly moves down to the waistband of his trousers and he quickly adjusts you to remove them. The skin on skin contact you were longing for was now reality. Reiner’s cock springing up from his pants you stop your hips moving and look down in awe. He lets out a little laugh while examining your face, eyes widening as you try and think about how you’re going to fit him all. His length was nice but the girth was insane.You’d never taken something so thick and your heart started to thud in your chest. Cupping your face in his hands and pulling you in closer for a kiss, he startles your gaze from down below back onto him. “Are we getting nervous now, y/n?” he grinned at you again knowing how badly you wanted it. Grabbing the base of his cock he teased your slick slowly, letting your sticky juices coat his tip and dribble down to his hand, he uses it to pump his cock and over his entire length, dropping his head back and letting out a moan you slowly drop yourself onto him. Using his huge shoulders for handles you push yourself past the tip and start to gently fuck yourself on it, his large hands placed on your ass cheeks guiding you without pressing you down too hard. Your moans were now becoming erratic and your throbbing cunt was aching for more. Slipping down you take his whole length inside you and you stopped moving for a moment just to adjust to his length. With his head still resting back on the head of the bench, Reiner didn’t take his eyes off of you. “Such a good girl taking my cock like that, you like that don’t you?”. Once again you just eagerly nod and let out some incoherent sounds.

“No, no, no baby. I want you to say it.”

Bobbing up and down on his cock, your face now completely flustered, catching your breath you fix your blurred vision to stabilize on Reiner and tell him just how much you love it. “I like it, i- i- I love it…” A big smile starts to form on his face as his grip on your ass starts getting so tight it leaves a mark. He grabs your cheeks and gives you one hard thrust so deep your insides start to hurt in the best way, he starts pumping his cock so fast inside your clenching walls your arms stretched out on his chest starts to fly around to his neck to give yourself a better grip. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin fills the tiled room and echoes off the walls. You start to feel a knot in your stomach as Reiner doesn’t give up on his pace. “I’m.. so close, fuck I’m gonna cum.” Your voice is like liquid gold running through his ears as he takes your que to only get faster, his thick cock getting coated in your juices he places one hand on the centre of your back and the other firmly around your neck. He starts to press down on your throat as his pace is still speeding up. “Cum for me baby, cum on my cock and be a good girl.”

Unable to properly speak, you once again start nodding and let out a muffled “mmm yes..p-please..”

And within moments the knot in your stomach begins to expel, your pussy now clenching on his cock and your moans filling the room, you close your eyes and let your back naturally arch as you ride out your climax. Reiner has started to slow down on pumping his member inside you and watches your fucked out face with pure enjoyment. He lets go of your neck and starts kissing where his thumb was placed. Your whole body feels so used each of his thrusts now feel like he’s pumping his own personal ragdoll. Reiner pulls away from your neck and grabs your chin with one hand, opening your mouth with his thumb he places it lightly on your tongue.

“You like being my little cock-sleeve don’t you?”

You let out a breathy giggle and with his thumb still in your gaping mouth he moves your head in a nodding motion, answering for you.

“Yeah, I think you do, y/n.”

His cock still rock hard inside you, Reiner needed to cum and he needed to cum bad. In no spare time he flipped your body over and placed you in reverse cowgirl, he grabbed both your wrists behind your back in one hand and his other hand snaked around your torso to your chest.

Once he felt the position was just right he slammed into you with no mercy, this was a faster pace than before and your entire body started to slip forward but he was keeping you in place with his hands. His cock smashing into your used aching cunt so fast the noises escaping your mouth were sounding like vibrations. Never had you been fucked so hard. Reiner started to groan and his grip on you began to tighten, his fingernails digging into your breast way deeper than he had originally intended but your now sloppy cunt was bringing him to the edge. Letting out one loud groan “fuck..” Reiner fills your insides with his cum, he’s so deep inside you he holds you still for a moment while his head comes to rest down on the groove of your neck and he pants like a dog in you for a moment. So worn out you just let him keep you in place while you feel his hot breath run down your neck.

“Shit, Reiner... I didn’t know you had it in you.”

You both laughed together as he sat up and helped you hop off him and stand. Still sitting on the bench he slapped your ass that was right in front of him. It was a light playful slap and he leaned back and watched you turn to him.

“Oi, less of that, you little brat.” He couldn’t help but smile at you.

Smiling back you started to feel his cum pool out from your hole and dribble down your thigh. Embarrassed, you turn to find something to wipe yourself down with.

“Wait, y/n, come here for me. Let me get it for you.”

You walk towards him now in between his legs, looking down you watch him take his index and middle finger and run it up the trail of cum on your thigh, he makes sure to get every last drop.

Just watching him you’re confused about where he was going with it but looking up at you his eyes locked onto yours.

“Open your mouth.”

You didn’t hesitate and did as he said, gaping your mouth open and sticking your tongue out he grabbed the side of your head with one hand and shoved his two fingers that had collected all the cum into your mouth and down your throat. Wanting to be so good for him you sucked on his fingers and swallowed the remainder of the cum. He looked at you like he was almost ready to fuck you all over again.

“You’re filthy, you know that, y/n?”

Reiner’s low voice made you so eager to please. You’d never been fucked like that and it made you wonder how long he’d been wanting to do that. Truthfully he’d been wanting to fuck you like that the moment he first caught a glanse of you, but after meeting you and realising how smart and thoughtful you were to the other scouts he felt guilty for thinking such bad things. But now he knows you wanted it too and he’s not afraid to give you more.

Both putting your clothes on you agree to not tell anyone about this, Reiner’s little speech made you change your mind about leaving the scouts. The speech and maybe something else..

Leaving the shower room now much dirtier than you’d entered you turned to Reiner, who was doing the buckle of his belt.

“I appreciate what you said earlier, and truthfully I would miss you If i left. So I think I should stay around for a bit.”

Reiner glanced at you and turned back to his belt and smirked, feeling very satisfied with himself he gave out a low chuckle. You took that as your que to go.

[andguesswhat]

The fool on the hill - Chapter 6

If you want to know what happened on the hill..

(on the Archive)

The hill

*

"Do you mind if I go for a little jog out there to keep me warm?" Tom asked Lea, pointing to a hill a little off the set. 

The production assistant shook her head. "No, you go ahead. I'll come get you when we get back to shooting. You've got thirty minutes, tops."

"Thanks!" 

Tom smiled. He couldn't wait to get moving, it was cold as hell and the wind was blowing mercilessly through the abandoned mine they were shooting in.   

Sophia didn't seem to mind being blanketed in layers of down jackets and getting a hot mug of coffee in her hand; but him, he hated standing in the cold doing nothing, he had to move. 

So he put on his headphones to listen to the music Nathalie had given him and started jogging. 

Up the hill ...then back down again. 

It was a hard to get purchase with the gravel and he definitely didn't have the right shoes on, but Tom didn't mind, he was happy to run. The hill was steeper than he had expected, but he enjoyed the burn it gave him, a welcome change from the chilly set.

The music was good and he lost himself in it, just running around the hill. Up, then down.

It didn't take long for his mind to wander to Owen and he paused and took some deep breaths, trying to stop the thoughts, but he wasn't surprised that they quickly came back.

Owen had been in his mind for weeks now. 

He had been so happy to work with him. He was smart, compassionate, and funny, and Tom loved his curiosity and commitment.... All the little ideas they came up with during the shoot were just so much fun. On top of all that, the connection they had was a gift that Tom couldn't take for granted. They could talk about anything. And that meant anything, really. And they did.

And he loved the way Owen smiled at him, winked at him, and flirted with him. Ever since that day they'd played tennis, Tom had felt that the flirting was becoming highly.... sexual. At least for him. And no wonder - hearing Owen grunt on the court and seeing him naked in the shower... the images came to his mind all by themselves. 

Because Tom thought that Owen had a really nice body. 

And that he wouldn't mind touching it. 

And licking it. 

Every part of it, actually. 

Especially that prominent line around his hip. 

Yeah, he would like that. 

In his imagination, he had licked it more than once, and ended up licking something else. In his imagination, of course.

He wasn't sure why he hadn't made the first move yet. 

Maybe because he thought Owen would. 

Maybe that made him a little insecure.   

Or maybe they just hadn't found the right moment yet. 

They were busy filming and hadn't had any scenes together in the last few days. 

Tom missed Owen. Just being around him. Brainstorming. Laughing. Flirting. 

Suddenly, Tom felt a hand on his shoulder. 

He thought it was Lea, but he was more than surprised to see it was - 

"Owen!" 

His face instantly lit up, his heart began to pound and his whole body was flooded with a sudden feeling of warmth.

Oh God, how he loved seeing him. 

"What are you doing here?" he fumbled to take the earbuds out and looked at his.. friend.

Owen shrugged and smiled cheekily. "I thought I'd check out the set."

Tom just smiled back. 

He couldn’t say anything, but just smiled happily at Owen. 

He knew he should say something to keep things from getting weird, but he didn't know what. 

There were too many questions in his head. After all, why was Owen really here? It was a boring set, it was cold.... 

"God, it's fucking cold here," Owen interrupted his thoughts as he rubbed his hands together. "Let's jog some more, shall we?"

Tom was still smiling, still unable to speak properly. "Yeah..." He tried to get that probably stupid smile off his face, but it was hopeless. "Yeah... Sure!" Well, at least he could manage that.

So they jogged down the hill. 

Side by side. 

Both smiling. 

And Tom felt like a silly teenager, giddy to just be around the person he had a crush on.

When they got back to the bottom of the hill, Owen turned to Tom and said, "Okay, that didn't work so well for me. I'm still cold. How about a little sprint challenge?" He slapped Tom on the chest, smiled challengingly at him "Show me what you can do!" and just sprinted off, up the hill, without any warning. Or without waiting. 

Tom was in no position to react that quickly. But after losing at tennis, Tom really felt the need to defend his honor, so he sprinted after Owen, giving it his all.

But why the hell was Owen so fast? 

If he wasn't warm after that sprint, he didn't know how he could do it. He was almost out of breath! 

He tried to get past Owen, but he didn't know how.

So he just grabbed Owen by the waist in the last few meters to push him out of the way, but the hill was steep, the gravel too slippery, and the sole of his shoe too smooth, so he slipped, fell, and dragged Owen down with him. 

Hhn!

And now Owen was buried under him.

They were both panting heavily.

Their bodies pressed against each other.

And Tom had to admit, that wasn't bad at all. He wished he could stay in this moment forever.

"Your start wasn't really fair, was it?" Tom gasped in mock seriousness and braced himself with his hands. 

Owen turned, still lying under Tom, and smiled at him. "Yes, it was. With your model legs, you could have easily caught me."

Model legs? Tom once again didn't know what to say. 

So he continued to gasp. 

And just looked at Owen. 

How Owen looked at him. Attentively. 

Smiled at him. Tenderly. 

His mouth slightly open. 

He could hear him breathing. 

Felt his chest moving up and down.... 

He couldn't believe how beautiful Owen was.

Tom bit his lower lip.

He felt himself getting a hard-on, lying on top of Owen like this. 

But he didn't want to get up at any cost, this was just too good, so he tried to move his hip, tried to get his leg - 

When suddenly he felt Owen's hard-on too. 

God.

Time stood still. 

Just them looking at each other, still panting.... 

And Tom knew this was the moment. 

This was it. 

So he rubbed their hard-ons together lightly.

God, yes.

And it felt even better the second time, when he heard a small moan coming out of Owen's mouth. 

But that was nothing compared to how it felt when Owen's hand slid down to his ass, kneading and squeezing it before going down between his ass a little to grab his leg and pull it up slightly. 

Tom tried to stifle a moan. 

He couldn't tell how much it turned him on. Being grabbed like that while their hard-ons were still pressed against each other. 

As much as he had loved women in his life, Tom was sure, he could only feel something like this with the same sex. 

The same energy...

The same power...

Just being on the same level.

Owen slid his hand into Tom's hair and slowly, very slowly pulled him down... so they could savor this moment of absolute tension.... before their lips would finally meet....

"Tooom!" Tom heard his name being called.

No.

"Tooom!" Lea was calling him.

No!

Tom closed his eyes for a moment.

He felt Owen's hand slip from his neck.

No!

It wasn't real.

This couldn't be true.

He sighed. And looked at Owen.

Who looked at him compassionately.

No! He wanted to kiss Owen, he needed to kiss him, feel his lips...

Again he sighed. And surrendered.

One last time he rubbed against Owen's hard-on, straightened with a flourish, and let out a frustrated growl before shouting down the hill.

"I'm coming!"

Owen chuckled beneath him. "Are you?"

"Not funny." Tom held out his hand for Owen to stand up.

But Owen hesitated for a moment.

"I feel like I’m always looking up to you," he said, smiling up at Tom. "I like it. It's appropriate."

Tom's whole body softened like pudding. And he wished it wasn't.

Because yes, it was just a joke, just a reference, of course....

But still...

And once again, he had absolutely run out of words, and he really needed to change that. Even when he somehow liked the silence when Owen was here.

Together they walked down the hill. And despite his frustration with this situation, Tom was genuinely happy. He couldn't remember when he had felt more comfortable with another person by his side than with Owen. Just walking down a hill.

And even though Tom couldn't quite grasp what had just happened, he knew he would never forget it.

Owen grinned at him. "By the way, I like your hair flip. Kind of sexy. I wish I could do that too."

Tom rolled his eyes, feeling that Owen was really doing this on purpose. And yes, he was embarrassed, but what annoyed him more was that once again he didn't know how to respond.

But before he could think of anything, they were at the bottom of the hill, standing right in front of Lea.

"Are you all right?"

Tom nodded. "I just ... slipped."

Lea looked at him sternly. "Don't do that again, or I won't be able to let you off the leash next time. I don't want Kate yelling at me because you splashed your ankle or something. Okay, let's go then." She signaled him to follow her.

And as soon as Lea turned to leave, Tom turned to Owen, gave him a quick but soft lick just below his earlobe, and whispered, "I think you're sexy as hell, too."

The look Owen gave him was priceless.

Tom grinned triumphantly.

There. Well, who was speechless now?

*

[snackhobi]

16! things you said with no space between us. for the prompt request! thank u

16- things you said with no space between us

hi anon! you didn’t specify a member so I hope you don’t mind me taking creative liberties with this one! thank you, yet again, to the amazing @hobi-gif​ for being my beta! 

pairing: taehyung x reader / word count: 1.5k / genre: fluff / warnings: none!

The internet is an amazing thing. It’s a modern library of Alexandria, an endless source of information and knowledge from every corner of the world. It allows people separated by miles and miles of land and ocean to communicate with each other, to reach out and touch the lives of others in a way that would have been unfathomable even a few decades ago. 

It allowed Kim Taehyung, when he was young and isolated and lonely, to reach out a shaking hand, to try and find someone who was reaching back. Weird, the other kids called him, alien, freak, each whispered word another needle into his pin cushion of a heart, causing him to fold in on himself, awkward and shy and sad. But on the internet, no one knew he was—no one could make jokes about the curve of his ears, too big for his soft, child’s face. No one could hear the way he spoke, words slurred into each other, speech messy in his excitement. No one could join in with the jeers and jibes that surrounded him, leaving him hurt, just because he was himself.

And he’d found you. Someone else his age, reaching out a hand, the two of you excited about the same things—hastily typed messages in the chatbox of an anime site, screeched enthusiasm about flash games and music and more besides, two kids finding friendship when everything else in their lives was so empty, so lonely.

Kim Taehyung has grown into his ears, his face, personality morphing from stilting clumsiness into something far more charismatic; he’s always been himself, unashamed and unabashed in his openness, but with age comes maturity, and he knows how to carry himself now. Knows, too, how to ignore the raised eyebrows and side glances from people who refuse to understand him and who he is.

But before all this, before he’d learned how to ignore those silent daggers, before he’d found friends who love him and care for him—you had been the only one who listened. And you still listen, too, always always always; days turned into weeks into months into years, keeping in touch as time passes, moving with each other from messenger to messenger, Skype and KKT and Line, his oldest and dearest friend. It was so natural. (And it still is.)

He knows that people find it weird. Peculiar. It’s been so, so long, and the two of you know each other intimately, late night talks spelling out the mutual depths of your loneliness and despair (being a teenager is so, so difficult, so much harder than people realise or care to remember)—Taehyung doesn’t shy away from opening his heart, spelling out his emotions, but there’s a level of history the two of you share that he’ll never find with someone else.

And yet for all this closeness, there’s still a level of removal, anonymity. You’d made a pact, right at the beginning, years and years and years ago, to never share your faces—to only judge each other on the contents of your personality, your heart and soul, not to have it coloured by anything else. He’s heard your voice, and you’ve heard his. His phone is full of photos you’ve sent him, sunrises and flowers and cute dogs you’ve seen on the street. Taehyung knows all of your deepest secrets, things you’ve never told anyone but him—but he doesn’t know the colour of your eyes, your hair, how your lips curve when you smile, how your hands move when you talk. He knows your name, holds your heart in his hands, cradles every story you’ve ever told him in the curve of his palms—but he could pass you in the street and be none the wiser.

But he loves you. He knows he loves you. It’s impossible not to, not to fall hard and deep for this person who cares for him so much, who’s always been there for him, even when no one else had been.

He knows he’s handsome and good-looking now, is reminded of it constantly, from the looks that people give him, the words they send his way, confessions of ardour and wide-eyed compliments—but he’ll never forget how people looked at him before all this. It’s all fake emotion, based on something skin-shallow, and Taehyung doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like that people are only nice to him because of his pretty face. You, though, love him regardless, are kind and soft and sweet because of everything inside him. Not the things that other people see. Not the things outside of his control.

So when this message comes through—a shaky, tentative thing, so unlike every other word you pen to him—his heart leaps into his throat, almost choking him, so strong and aching for you.

I’m moving to Seoul, you say. You don’t have to, but I was wondering if you’d like to meet?

Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. 

Jimin startles and Jungkook raises his eyebrows when Taehyung makes a noise of delight, lifting his phone aloft as he spins in an exuberant circle before collapsing to the ground, overcome and overwhelmed with the weight of affection and tenderness he holds for you.

You agree on a date, a time, a place. Taehyung’s thumbs shake as he types his replies, asking how he’ll know it’s you.

I’ll be wearing a flower crown, you decide, and Taehyung could yell with how cute it is, how cute you are. He doesn’t know what you look like but he knows how cute you are. He always has.

I’m going to hug you when I see you, he says, and you reply with a torrent of laughing emojis and hearts.

I wouldn’t expect anything less, you reply.

And when the day finally comes, years and years culminating in this moment, Taehyung is nervous. He’s a tumble of excitement and anticipation and nerves, staring at himself in the mirror, fiddling with his collar, the ends of his sleeves, even if Jimin slaps his hand and tells him that he’s fine. But even though Taehyung knows that you love him, and he loves you—you both say it often enough, your friendship steeped in tenderness and glowing affection—he’s worried that he’s not good enough. That you’ll take one look at him and see past everything, see the child he used to be, weird and stupid and lonely, and realise that you’re too good for him, have always been too good for him.

I can’t wait to see you, comes the message, just at the right time, like it always does. Because even with everything that separates you, you’ve always known Taehyung—have weaved this level of connection with him, these unseen threads that tie you together. It soothes his trembling fingers and smooths the crooked line of his mouth, twisted with discomfort as it was.

And when he finally sees you—he knows that everything is going to be okay.

You’re beautiful. Of course you are. Pink roses and cherry blossoms and daisies circle your head, a pretty halo that’s set on the softness of your hair, drawing Taehyung’s eyes like a moth to a flame. He has to stop in his tracks and stare at you, take in every detail he’s imagined over the years, turned into something physical and real and even more amazing than anything his mind could conjure—because it’s you.

And when your eyes lock, Taehyung falls, falls, falls. You notice the flowers pinned to his chest, the boutonniere he said he’d wear to match yours—and then your face lifts into the brightest smile he’s ever seen, golden and shimmering, an aurora of happiness that’s there because of him.

“Taehyung?”

Oh, his name sounds so sweet in your mouth, without the filter of the phone or computer, crystal clear and shining.

“Y/n,” he says, and then he’s hugging you.

You fit into his arms so perfectly. You cling to each other tight-tight-tight, unwilling to let go, his boutonniere crushed and your crown sliding askew as you hold onto him and let yourself be held. There’s no more distance between you, now, not a single space between your body and his as you rock against each other, swaying on your feet.

“Hi,” Taehyung murmurs, petals of your flowers trembling against his breath. “Hi, hi, hi.”

“Hi,” you laugh, warm in the hollow of his neck. “Hi, Taehyung. Hi.”

“I’m so, so happy,” Taehyung confesses, whispers soft and low, and blooms at the way you laugh, affectionate and sweet.

“Me too,” you say, making no moves to pull away, making no moves to slide out of the circle of his arms. “Me too.”

And though he doesn’t say those three words—that secret that you both know, both feel, don’t put a voice to, not with the depth of emotion you both feel, not yet—they curl around you, between you, settling in every part of your bodies, curling up the edges of your lips as you both smile, softening the corners of your eyes at you stare at each other, solid and present and right there.

[fernsplaysthings]

Another continuation of my YW x Crow fluff from here.

Definitely suggestive this time.

By the time Kestral had reached street level they were beginning to wonder if Roost was right and that this was an ill thought out idea. Yes, the conversation with the other two members of Fireteam Mayhem (and their nosey Ghosts) had been somewhat emotionally charged and had opened the floodgates on a rush of feelings that they weren’t exactly ready to approach in a measured way but they still felt the need to try and…

Kestral didn’t even know what they were going to say to him when they eventually found themself at the H.E.L.M. Not even just what words to use. They hadn’t exactly worked out what they were trying to convey. What needed addressing. Everything was fine as it was, right? They hadn’t felt as connected with another person as they did with Crow. Not since Artemis and Salome and that was lifetimes ago. He tugged on their heartstrings in all the best ways. They cared for him in ways that made their chest ache, their stomach flutter, and their brain go fuzzy.

Again, Roost wasn’t exactly incorrect when he’d suggested that perhaps those feelings ran a little deeper and in a different direction to how Kestral expressed them out loud but they couldn’t see themself throwing out the ‘L word’ on a whim either.

With enough drink they knew it could be a possibility that it’d just slip out by accident and ruin a perfectly good thing, but that could be avoided.

Did that mean it was true if they were more likely to say it while drunk?

Realising they’d now walked several times around the block to burn off their nervous butterflies and straighten out their thoughts Kestral stopped, hating the direction their mind had headed, and looked up towards the Tower. There would never be a good reason to keep guessing and speculating on these things while the solution was right there. Even if some of the fear was because somewhere deep down they were afraid of rejection. Even if a lot of the fear was because they knew that there’d always be the possibility they could hurt Crow in so many ways without even meaning to.

A little voice in the back of their head reminded them that they could trust the other Hunter with anything, this included, and that was exactly what they needed to get their feet working again to push them towards the Tower.

-----

Without their armour and weapons to hand, Kestral felt out of place in the H.E.L.M. It was a weird sense of vulnerability to walk through a place dedicated to battle, survival and strategy as a civilian when they’d usually be one of the larger presences at the wartable. Vulnerability was exactly why they were here though, and while admittedly of a different kind it did seem appropriate in a round and about way.

As expected Crow was in his shadowed alcove at the back of the main hall, perched on the bench nearby with Glint at his side chattering away brightly.

The sight brought a goofy grin to Kestral’s face as they approached, widening even more as the other Hunter looked up at the sound of footsteps and cleared the space between them in a couple of strides. Although he tried to hold back, to seem cool and collected as he stood before them, the softest look of adoration made itself clear on his face when he noted the other’s smile.

“You’re in a good mood,” chirped Glint, popping himself between the pair and looking from one to the other.

Crow pushed back his hood and rubbed at his neck, taming his expression enough that Glint probably wouldn’t tease him about it later, “It’s...nice to see you smiling.”

Their heart did something messy and fluffy at his awkwardness and for a moment that fuzzy feeling took over their thoughts enough to give them pause and cause Glint to take a longer, more concerned look at them.

“Sorry, just wanted to swing by and see you guys.”

“We’re glad you did! Aren’t we Crow?”

He’d gathered himself enough to nod, “Actually I was going to talk to you later anyway. Zavala’s got me doing some recon stuff.”

The fuzzy feeling subsided rapidly and their heart dropped, “Oh. Anything interesting?”

He shrugged, “I’m not really allowed to share the details. I’ll be off-world for a while though.”

It really shouldn’t have bothered them as much as it did. They were off on other planets and moons all the time and it’d never bothered them before. Not that they didn’t miss him before they got back or think about him during the quieter times but still…

“That’ll be Zavala’s way of looking out for you,” they sighed, that vulnerability seeping in deeper, making them want to tug their hoodie around them and hide, “It’ll be some good experience. Doing a bit of field work for the Vanguard and all that.”

Something about their body language had obviously given away their unease to the other Hunter even though they’d thought they’d hidden it particularly well. His gloved knuckles brushed over their cheek, pushing back the stray hair beside their face, fingertips running down their neck to rest his palm against their shoulder.

Despite the heaviness in their chest, the gesture still sparked a shiver across their skin.

“I didn’t want to head off without letting you know,” he added softly, “I know you do this all the time so it’s probably no big deal and...am I being stupid?”

Kestral’s chuckle was one of relief. It didn’t make up for the time they’d be apart - ugh, when did they get this sentimental? - but it was reassuring to know he felt similarly. They moved closer, looped their arms around his waist and looked up to meet him face to face. Crow rested his own arms over their shoulders, around their neck, instinctively returning the hold so he could lean down and press a chaste kiss to their lips.

“I’ll take that as a no?”

They laughed more confidently this time, “You’re not being stupid. I’ll miss you too. Always do.”

A mingling of concern and affection crossed his features and he pulled them in again to plant a firmer kiss against their forehead, only to tuck their head beneath his chin so he could rest his lips against their hair. It was sappy but there was something about being wrapped up in Crow, warm and safe, that put them at ease in a way they never thought they’d feel. It wasn’t often that the fabled Young Wolf felt protected, vulnerability be damned.

“Maybe we can spend some time together before you go?”

Eyes meeting again, Crow smiled, “You have something in mind?”

Kestral hesitated. No. No they didn’t. How did this work? What if it wasn’t fancy enough. What if it was too impersonal? Did they need to impress him?

“Wanna get takeout and spend an evening at mine watching movies?”

Oh no that was the worst idea. He was definitely going to…

“A quiet evening in, hm? I’d love to. I’ll bring snacks.”

Perhaps it was the heat that had engulfed their face or they way their heart was now light and fluttering but without thinking they stumbled over their tongue, words falling out, “You could stay the night too if you wanted…”

“Ooh.”

Glint’s teasing sound startled the pair, both realising that the Ghost hadn’t actually gone anywhere and the poor guy was front and centre to their awkward sappiness. Kestral’s opinion changed from ‘poor guy’ to ‘almost as bad as Roost’ when his shell flickered and his holographic eye morphed from smug to a cheeky wink. Crow didn’t seem to think too much of it, probably used to his Ghost by now, and rolled his eyes before settling his sights back on the Hunter in his arms.

“I’ll bring some snacks and a toothbrush then.”

-----

A movie and a half in Kestral started to wonder why they’d been so nervous about spending some time alone with Crow. Their takeout, a very large, very cheesy pizza, had arrived just as they’d started their first movie and Crow had made short work of scarfing back a healthy number of slices while immersed in some equally cheesy action flick Kestral had pulled out. They’d eventually settled back into each other, Crow reclined across the sofa with the smaller Hunter, their back to his chest, comfortably laid back between his legs. 

Somewhere during the second movie, something slower and a little more sappy, his hand had come to rest on Kestral’s bare stomach. A warm weight on warm skin but they’d still shivered when his fingers found the raised silvery line of a scar and traced it idly until Kestral eventually placed their hand over his to still it.

“Ok, that tickles.”

He laughed under his breath, sliding his palm upwards and feeling for other scars, “Do they all tickle? Or is this one just...new?”

“Not gunna lie, I don’t really remember. You get so many scars by being a Guardian.”

“Can I see them?”

Kestral paused, eyebrows raised in amusement, turning just enough to catch a glimpse of Crow’s face, “Excuse you. Are you asking me to undress?”

A deep purple flush rapidly covered the Awoken’s face even on noticing the playful smirk that the other Hunter was wearing openly. They’d turned further in his lap, lying chest to chest and looking up at him expectantly.

“I…” he swallowed hard, “I mean yes. I guess I am...If you want to.”

Kestral’s smirk turned shy, “You know you can’t unsee this if I do?”

“The only reason…” he leaned down, pressed a sweet lingering kiss to their lips, “That I’d want to unsee anything about you…” Kestral pressed up closer, deepening the kiss between his words, “Is so that I could see it again for the first time.”

He’d barely finished his sentence when Kestral had let out a soft breath, a slight hint of a whine, and snaked their arms up around his neck to tangle their hands in his hair, to kiss him with all the affection and warmth that his ridiculously romantic sentiment had sparked in them. Crow briefly forgot all about the scars and undressing and the shy awkwardness, and focused on not becoming completely overwhelmed by the flood of sensations. Heated lips, the gentle tug on his hair, sharing breath, the long line of contact between their bodies…

Gently cupping Kestral’s face he pulled back reluctantly, “Sec…”

“Was that OK?”

He grinned dreamily, running his thumbs over their reddened cheeks taking in the sight of saliva wet lips and eyes that seemed darker with their dilated pupils, “Yeah. ‘OK’ doesn’t cover it, actually. It was great. Really great, and we should definitely continue but…” he shuffled to sit up straighter across the sofa noticing Kestral’s attention drop downwards and a wolfish grin spring across their features when it returned to him, “That. And I’m not sure if I’ve done - I don’t remember if I’ve done this before and I’m not sure if that’s going to make it weird for you…”

“It’s not weird for me,” they replied quickly, “Crow it’s been ages since someone’s seen me as something other than a ferocious god slayer and too legendary for something as human as...as…” their mind reeled with words, the one they refused to say, ones too impersonal, some that just weren’t enough, “...as connection. As emotional and physical affection. Even before that. This though. I like this, even with all the weird bits. Especially the weird bits. I like you too. Kind of a lot.”

The Awoken simply stared at them with the most open look of adoration they were pretty sure they’d ever seen, completely silent.

“Shit. Too sappy?”

His response was to move his hands down around their waist, tug them to straddle his lap and kiss softly from their lips to their neck, smiling against their collarbone.

“It was very sappy. And I think, if we’re on the same train of thought, we should think about relocating to uh…” he looked up to see Kestral’s barely restrained smile, “To somewhere with a bit more space.”

“Bed?”

The second they said it, Crow lifted them, their legs wrapped around his waist, “I wasn’t going to say that but since you’ve suggested it…”

“Crow, you ass.”

“Bed it is.”

-----

Lola had seen some shit in her life but walking in to her friend’s apartment to see said friend, half naked in a shirt that did not belong to them, perched on the kitchen counter with a man that looked remarkably like the Prince of the Reef - not him anymore, it was Crow now - also half naked between their legs having an intimate conversation…

Well, it topped the list of things that made her lost for words.

It was only when the front door slammed behind her that the couple looked up, Kestral like a deer in headlights and Crow looking very proud of himself, that they noticed they had an unexpected visitor.

It took Lazarus launching himself into the side of Salome’s head to snap her back into the present, dazing himself in the process.

“Uh. Shit, Lola this is Crow. Crow, this is Salome, a good friend and part of my fireteam. This is a bad time, maybe you can…”

“Am I gunna have to start knocking?”

Kestral blinked a few times, “I...would like that. Yes, please do.”

“I cannot believe this is being turned into an actual love nest. Last thing I need seared into my brain is the image of my fireteam leader getting railed on the sofa.”

“Lola!”

“It wasn’t the sofa.”

Kestral’s head snapped back to Crow, face cheeks and ears all a deep red and slowly creeping onto their chest, “Don’t.”

Lola’s cackle drew their attention back again, “Ok, he can stay. I’ll catch up with you both when you’re not all loved up and shit.”

“Might be waiting a while,” muttered Crow, turning his gaze back to the other Hunter and running his knuckles lightly over their cheek.

Lola loudly faked some retching sounds as she left, slamming the door behind her.

[luninosity]

Okay, so, some Falcon and the Winter Soldier thoughts (will have some spoilers) for episodes two and three. General non-spoilery comment first: I feel like these were both *okay* episodes - neither as good as the first, but I didn’t dislike them, either. I’m still really curious to see how we’re going to wrap this all up in three more episodes; it doesn’t feel like we’re halfway done yet!

Okay, more spoiler-y notes below the Read More, not in any real order, just as I think and type. I’ll probably forget some things, but for now, here’re some thoughts...

--I like ep 3 slightly more than ep 2, mostly because of Zemo!

--I actually really love Zemo here (I liked him in Civil War, too): complex, sardonic, enjoying poking at people, a villain we do feel sympathy for even as he’s still sharp enough to remind us that he is a villain. Daniel Bruhl has always done a fantastic job flipping between calculated cruelty, wry humor - the whole “I am a Baron” moment was great - and pain that for him is still raw, about the loss of his family. (Some things’re awfully cliche - look, the supervillain’s playing chess and reading Machiavelli in his cell? really? - but, y’know...sure. Why not. We expect some cliches in the superhero genre, and this is an inoffensive one.)

--also Zemo dancing. That’s it. That’s everything.

--moving on from that: I’m also really liking how they’re writing John Walker. He does have charm, and there’s a certain amount of sympathy - especially as we see him worrying about filling the Captain America shoes, in ep 2 - but we’re also getting this really subtle sense of wrongness about him. He’s clearly vindictive and angry when things (and people) don’t act according to his mental script for them, and he’s willing to use his name and power to do things like get Bucky released...which in context and given our sympathies for Bucky is a good thing, but...it’s also an indicator of his willingness to do what he wants, because he can. (To be fair, Steve Rogers also often did that! - but Steve earned our trust, both in narrative and character. From his first introduction to WWII leadership experience to all the Avengers stuff, Steve consistently acts to protect people, and he’ll also listen if someone else has a good idea or if someone needs to talk, like with Wanda.) So I’m really liking this slow-fuse character development.

--mixed feelings about Sharon. I love that the show’s acknowledging how much she sacrificed for our main heroes, with no reward. On the other hand, she also clearly knew the consequences that could happen; she said as much at the time. The level of bitterness seems like a lot. But I’m also interested in everything we still don’t know about her - if she’s not the Power Broker herself, she’s obviously Up To Something. So that should be fun.

--hey, look at that X-Men location, with Majipoor! Also a nod to Wolverine’s favorite bar there, I think?

--I love heist and disguise plots!

--I also really like Bucky’s having to revert to the Winter Soldier - Sebastian Stan does it so brilliantly, with so many layers of emotion: not wanting to, loathing it, recognizing the necessity, shutting off all emotion and just coldly doing it, hurting but covering it up...just fantastic, and you know I love some hurt/comfort, and this seems like such a great set-up for emotional hurt

--but! this also seems like...a weird plot hole, kind of? Bucky’s pretty famous at this point, right? I imagine the criminal underworld knows he’s been pardoned and deprogrammed, right? or do they assume Zemo, with his knowledge of Hydra, still has some special control over him?

--along the same “this seems like someone didn’t think this through” path, Sam, you’re a professional, turn off your phone on a mission. Oh my god. Face-palmingly stupid - and I think somewhat lazy writing, as the writers plainly needed a giveaway, and went for the first idea they had. Even if it made a main character look incompetent.

--the Flag Smashers and Karli are...fine. They feel very Generic Marvel Villain - not the big space alien type, but the other type, the “I have a personal loss and motivating pain so I’m a little sympathetic but also Clearly Evil, watch me kill civilians so the audience won’t ever find me TOO sympathetic” type. Meh. Fine. Zemo’s more interesting, but...fine.

--Anthony Mackie is such a fantastic actor - every bit of his reaction to the Isaiah Bradley reveal is so good. The anger, pain, frustration, ferocity...heartbreaking. Actually that whole scene is so good - his emotions at discovering this secret history are palpable, and it’s so painful, because we also understand why Bucky would keep the secret - as someone who knows about pain and trauma and being experimented on, and knowing Isaiah wants to be left alone - we feel really deeply for both characters here, and it’s great.

--I actually liked the abrupt swing from the Isaiah Bradley encounter to the casual everyday racism of the cops on the street - is it subtle, no. But it’s not meant to be: it’s meant to be standing up and shouting about how not that much has really changed, and about how pervasive racism is. I know some reviews were all, “this was just too much!” or “too forced!” but...look, it needs to be shouted sometimes for people to hear.

--Bucky’s notebook being Steve’s, oh, ouch, my feelings. If I had the time and energy to write fic...

--(also, if I had the time and energy to write dark!fic: where’re my fics in which Zemo’s implication about the Winter Soldier “doing anything you want” gets played with? what or who does Bucky have to do to keep the undercover charade going? so many Bad Wrong Kinky power dynamics and explorations of consent and what this would do to Bucky’s head, here, and honestly I’d totally read them all, just saying.)

--Sam and Bucky together...I don’t know. This is one of the elements that I’m not actually a huge fan of, but I think it’s partly a personal genre / sense of humor thing that’s not clicking for me, personally, again. Like...

--I don’t find people shouting aggrievedly at each other to be funny? I’m not sure why it is.

--I mean, I get that they’re doing, like, eighties buddy cop movies, but...it got old really fast then, and it’s not something we needed to bring back. It’s not clever, and it’s...well, shouty and annoying.

--(I say this as someone who genuinely likes the first two Lethal Weapon movies...but the significant difference is, I think, we’re also shown in both those movies that Riggs and Murtaugh care about each other. They don’t want to be partners initially, and they don’t get along initially, and they do argue over tactics**...but they immediately feel responsible for each other and act to protect each other even as they argue, because it’s the right thing to do and we’re shown moments of them awkwardly trying to connect, because they both have that deep sense of...protectiveness...that makes them Good People - like, if they learn something that the other person needs to know, they tell each other. They protect each other’s families / love interests. So by the end of the second movie, with that fabulous character death fake-out, Murtaugh’s initial shock and grief is real and powerful and painful, and so is his genuine relief when the worst isn’t true - and it’s all earned.) (**however, they tend to argue tactics *before* jumping in - “is it 1, 2, 3, go on 3? or 3, then go?” And then once that’s established, they go ahead. That makes a difference as far as...well...competence and teamwork!)

--(Sam and Bucky, as far as I can tell, don’t do the above, and just...maybe shouldn’t be working together?)

--I also don’t find grown men acting like my youngest nephew, when he’s having a temper tantrum, to be funny. Staring contests? Random insults? Sulking in silence? Oh, grow up.

--(Also, yes, writers, we see you with the “couples therapy” and “get closer and make your legs touch” and “landing on top of each other as they hit the ground” moments. I, at least, personally, am very tired of...I don’t know that I’d call it queerbaiting exactly, but this idea that we’re supposed to find these moments funny...because why? Because, ooh, they’re two men getting close to each other, physically or emotionally? Why is this a thing we need to draw attention to? Do you think you’re doing some sort of fan service? Please either make Sam/Bucky happen or stop doing this.)

--both Sam and Bucky are highly competent and professional agents, or they should be. They should know how to work in the field - even with people they may not like - and adapt to shifting strategy, make best use of available assets, include people in the plan, etc. I can’t help but compare this to something like, say, Leverage, which also has a team who mocks each other and makes jokes but clearly absolutely respects each other’s capabilities, has a plan going in and tells everyone what the plan is, and adapts (and trusts each other to adapt) on the fly as necessary, and does it all without random insults about someone’s (PTSD-related) staring and “robot brain”.

--one of the very specific moments that bothers me a lot is the ending of the therapy scene (yay for showing heroes in therapy! but also I’m pretty sure she’s...not a great therapist?). Bucky finally opens up and says something real, about his own self-doubt and wondering whether Steve was wrong about him....and Sam just...brushes it off and goes, “we’re done here,” basically. Not only does that feel wildly out of character for former counselor Sam, it feels cruel. I really deeply dislike that moment the more I think about it. Makes me want to scream.

--Sam insults Bucky way more than the other way around. It’s starting to feel very one-sided (it’d be better if more clearly reciprocal, though it’s still not a dynamic that’s my favorite), and again, feels out of character - maybe this is Anthony Mackie’s sense of humor, but Sam isn’t Mackie, and Bucky isn’t Seb, and it reads as...a weird unbalanced power-trip thing to me. And also out of character for Sam, who can be sarcastic (”If you guys eat that sort of thing,” about breakfast, when Steve and Nat have randomly shown up at his door) but that’s not the same as just throwing unprovoked insults at a person who’s trying to recover from trauma, and a lot of those insults seem to center on things that were done to Bucky, that he had no choice in (the staring, the arm, etc), and that feels....it just feels mean, to me. Make fun of things he’s had a choice in / can do something about, if you have to - hair, clothes, liking “old people’s games” like gin rummy or pinochle, not knowing who Beyonce is, I don’t know, there are so many options that aren’t cruel! Do that instead. Let Bucky have a good comeback for once, too!

--the action scenes are action scenes. Also fine.

--Sam might be right about destroying the shield, and the show may even be (unintentionally?) setting that up as the best outcome, but that’s a problem for the future, Sam; get it back first. Also it’s a problem you caused by giving the shield up - did you really trust the government to leave it unused in a museum? You’re not that naive.

--overall, it’s...a perfectly fine show, so far, I think? Solid, and interesting, but not great. I think some of what doesn’t work for me is because it doesn’t work for me personally, as far as the shouty insult-heavy action “comedy” bits that I’m not enjoying, but I think they’re doing what they aimed for with it, so in that sense, I guess it’s working? There’s a lot of really cool stuff around the edges - John Walker, Isaiah Bradley, that Dora Milaje stinger, the bigger world of a history interwoven with racism and superpowers, the chillingly effective use of Bucky’s past - but I wish I liked the central Sam-Bucky relationship more. Individually they’re wonderful - they’ve both had such powerful scenes dealing with family, trauma, and consequences - but I feel like, in the effort to do the buddy comedy dynamic, the writing has just made me really sure that they actually genuinely don’t like each other? To such an extent that if they show any affection / caring / interest in each other in the last three episodes, it won’t be believable. (I mean Sam and Bucky, not Mackie and Seb. Mackie and Seb’re adorable.)

--I just want to think about Zemo dancing some more.