#since i finally found out how to record in 2k!

[eddiesxangel]

Just Peachy | E.M

TJ’s 2K request celebration!

Anonymous asked: Hey i was wondering if i could request a friends to lovers eddie x reader, its romantic and the tension finally breaks, its their first time with each other and the reader absolutely blows his mind sucking and fucking him, shes the best hes ever had and he wasnt expecting it to be THAT good, hes just sprawled out flushed and sweaty like hes seen god 🤭🤭 Im just imagining him trying to get up to pee and his legs give out, he face plants in the hallway, his cheeks just out 🍑 and youre both giggling

wc: 2.9k

Cw: friends to lovers, your and Eddie’s first time together, smut, oral (f + m) , p in v, talks about cuming inside but Eddie is wearing a condom.

Concealing your emotions around Eddie had become increasingly taxing over the past couple of months. Although you've been friends for a little over a year, you couldn't help but notice that something had shifted in your interactions with him.

You felt giddy when you were together. Your face, cheeks, and ears would feel on fire whenever he complimented you. You also found yourself thinking about him first thing in the morning, and when your head hit the pillow, fantasies of you and he would play in your mind until you fell asleep.

The flirting between the two of you was so unbelievably blatant, and any time you innocently did it in front of your friends, they would make gagging noises. You never thought much of it because that’s just how you and Eddie were, that’s how you’ve always been, it was never serious for you, until it was.

It was one particular comment he had made that made it all switch for you. It was late at night, and you and he had been smoking together at his place. He’d told you that “you are the only person in the whole world who makes him feel whole.” You could have kissed him right then and there, and that thought scared you.

Ever since that night, Eddie has always been at the forefront of your mind, especially on the night of that party, when he expressed his feelings for you during a game of truth or dare.

In all honesty, Eddie had been set up by Dustin and Steve. They were tired of hearing him go on and on about you for a year and a half, so they fed Eddie a bunch of alcohol and insisted on playing a game of truth or dare.

Finally, when it was time, Steve asked Eddie, “Who do you like?” He drunkenly but confidently said your name. You hadn’t believed him because he was so drunk, but Nancy reminded you, “Drunken thoughts are sober words.”

When you were both sober the next morning, you marched your way to the trailer to set the record straight. You needed to know if what Eddie said had any slice of truth to it. At first, he refused to even look at you, embarrassed by his actions, but when you confronted him about it, he could only nod his head ‘yes.’

Your stomach erupted with butterflies as he confessed he’d always liked you like that. Like more than a friend. He didn’t want to lose you because you’re one of the most important people in his life.

You didn’t let him finish speaking because your lips were on his. This kiss was everything that you had wanted it to be. It’s the type of kiss you’ve only been dreaming about every night before going to bed.

After one of the best makeout sessions of your life, Eddie insisted he take you out on a proper date before things moved forward because “you deserve the world.” His words, not yours.

Dating Eddie was fun and easy. You were such good friends before, so you were already comfortable with one another, but now you got to steal kisses and hold each other's hands without worry. The only problem was that you’ve been on five dates with Eddie, and neither of you has yet to make a move past steamy makeouts.

It was weird, in a way. He was your friend, and you didn’t want to seem too pushy, and neither did he. You both were too chicken to let one another’s hands roam too far without worrying about the other's reaction.

Eddie didn’t even know if you would want to have sex with him. You said you liked one another more than a friend, but you were you. You are everything to Eddie, and if he fucked this up by moving too quickly, he would never forgive himself. So, he played it safe.

Stolen kisses on cheeks, innocent hand holding—he wouldn’t initiate further than kissing until you wanted, but the problem was that you and he never talked about it, and he was not picking up on your signals.

It was coming to the end of your sixth date with Eddie, and you would be damned if you let the night end with you in your separate beds.

Eddie walked you to your door and went for a kiss goodnight, but you stopped him, “I want you to come inside.” You smiled sheepishly, and Eddie, nothing but your local follower, humbly listened to your request.

“Can I get you a drink? You ask as you guide him to your living room couch.

“Sure, I’ll take whatever you’re having.” Eddie rubs his sweaty hands over his jeans.

You come back a few moments later with two beer bottles in hand.

“Thanks,” Eddie smiles, seemingly more comfortable.

“Eddie, can we talk about something?” You ask nervously as you sit down.

Shit, here it was. You want to go back to just friends.

“S-sure” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, the confidence suddenly drained out of his body.

“Do you think I’m attractive?”

“What?” This is not where he thought the conversation was going.

“We’ve known each other for so long, and this is our first date, and we haven’t… you know…” You look down, embarrassed to say what is on your mind.

“Haven’t what, sweetheart.”

You take a deep sigh, building up your confidence.

“Sex.”

“Oh uh-I”

“It’s ok if you’re not attracted to me-“

“What! No! God no!”

“Then why haven’t you made a move?”

“I didn’t want to scare you away…”

“Scare me away?

“ I’m obsessed with you to the point it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“And I’m not obsessed with you?” You counter back.

“I didn’t think you’d be into me like that…”

“It’s all I think about.”

That was the confirmation that Eddie needed to hear.

“So do you uh,” he ears his throat, “want to umm.”

“Yes,” you nod your head enthusiastically.

Slowly, Eddie leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle until you lean in and press into his lips more.

A low moan leaves Eddie’s throat, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as his hands trail up your upper thigh to your waist, pulling your body closer and closer until you are straddled on top of him.

Finally, he was taking control like you had wanted for so long. You pulled away to catch your breath, pushing Eddie’s brown tendrils out of the way so you could latch your lips onto the side of his neck.

“Mmmm, baby,” he moaned.

Your heart skipped a beat with his words; that was the first time he’d called you that, and you yearned for more.

“God, I want you so bad.” his breath had become heavy as his chest pumped up and down.

“You have me, baby,” you bravely let slip the pet name.

“Fuck” he groaned as the blood rushed down to his stiffening cock.

“How do you want me?” Your confidence was growing with each passing touch.

“Fuuuuuck, you can’t just say shit like that to me, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” You pout playfully.

You could feel his cock against your cunt, and you rolled your hips to test out the waters.

“Oooh! You are a dirty girl.” Eddie grits through his teeth as he stills your hips by gripping onto your ass, and a wave of arousal floods your lace panties. The panties you’ve been saving for each passing date.

“Can I suck your cock?”

“Yes,” Eddie blurts out without a second passing thought.

You slide off the couch, and Eddie shifts forward for you before he undoes his pants while you place a pillow under your knees.

The butterflies in your stomach still haven’t settled as you wait impatiently to see what he looks like. From what you could feel in his lap, he wouldn’t disappoint you.

As Eddie shifts the fabric uncovering his cock, your mouth waters with anticipation. You’re mesmerized by the sight of it, it’s long and thick, and the tip is so pink it’s just begging to be sucked, kissed and licked.

Eddie watches as your face turns into a grin as you bite your lip. You’re entirely giddy as you lean forward to take his hard length in your hand.

A soft “fuck” leaves Eddie’s lips as the tips of your fingers brush the shaft and take it into your gentle fingertips.

“You’re so big,” you purr.

Eddie was about to respond but your mouth is enveloping his cock.

“Oh my god,” he sputters. He cannot believe that this is his life, that he is here with you at this very moment. He never thought his most intimate daydreams would one day come to fruition.

Eddie snapped out of his own head as you sunk down lower and lower until you reached the back of your throat. You tried to breathe through your nose, but it was too much, so you returned to catch your breath.

“Holy shit, baby!”

There he goes, throwing around that word again, which makes you melt for him. All you want is to please him, to make him feel good.

“You like that baby? You like sucking on my cock?”

Fuck, he has a dirty mouth.

A whiny “mmmmmhmmmmm” fills the room and only enhances Eddie’s pleasure.

You feel his hands grip your hair, pushing it out of the way for you. So ever the gentleman.

“Need to see you, pretty girl.” There was no way Eddie was missing the sight of you taking him in your mouth because a bit of hair was in the way.

Eddie was trying everything in his power to not buck up his hips into you and down your throat. You were making it so hard because you were so good at this. Too good…but Eddie couldn’t let his mind wander about how you are so good at head. No, he will allow himself to enjoy this moment. He’s waited 20 months for this moment.

“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted as your mother slid up and showed the shaft, swirling your tongue on the tip each time before repeating it over and over and over again.

You can’t help but touch yourself as you’re also pleasuring your boyfriend. The way his words were affecting your body was too much to ignore any longer.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot; I need you; I need you now.” he watched as your fingers slipped between your skirt and your ruined panties, and he couldn’t take it anymore. God, he wanted to fuck you so badly.

“Mmmmmm, Eddie, please fuck me.” You remove your mouth and replace it with your hand as you jerk him off.

Your face is dripping with the mix of pre cum and saliva. Your eye makeup was a little smudged from the tears from when you gagged on his cock, but Eddie never thought you looked more beautiful.

“Come here.”

“You going to ride me baby? Show me how much you want me? Or are you going to let me fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Who needs legs anyway” you let out a shaky laugh.

Eddie’s face morphed into a mischievous grin as he threw you over his shoulder and brought you to the bedroom.

He flopped you on your back, and you landed with a giggle that quickly was cut off by a hot kiss.

Before you knew it, you were both finally naked, and Eddie was taking in every inch of you like he was committing your body to memory.

“Perfect,” Eddie whispered before leaning in to kiss you. “Perfect,” he moved down to kiss your neck. “Perfect.” He muttered into your breast, taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth and making you arch up into him. He repeated his actions until he got to your weeping pussy.

“Oh baby, look at you, you’ve been crying for me, haven’t you… You just want so much attention; that’s why you’re so wet for me. Don’t worry. I need you just as badly.” He stuck out his tongue and ran it up your slick slit making you let out a long, drawn-out moan.

“There’s my girl.”

Another wave of arousal washes through you at the term of endearment.

“Holy shit,” you try and catch your breath, but his tongue keeps going.

Eddie fucks your pussy with his tongue so good you can’t believe this is real. He’s eating you like you’re his last meal, and he’s enjoying every last drop.

“Eddie, baby, oh god!” You’re cuming in his tongue before you even comprehend what’s happening to your body.

“Did you just!” He pops up in shock that he was able to make you cum in a few short minutes. In all honesty, he was kinda sad it didn’t last longer. He loved being between your legs. It was his new favourite spot.

A breathy “uh-huh” leaves your chest as you soak in the euphoria.

“Can we…. Do you want to?…. I can—”

“Fuck me. Fuck me now, please. I don’t want to walk tomorrow.” You begged in your fucked-out needy state.

“Keep talking like that baby.”

“I need you so bad; I’ve wanted you to fuck me for so long, please, Eddie.”

You were so long in your begging that by the time you had finished talking g Eddie already had on the condom and was aligning himself with your pussy.

“Are you ready?” he asked, and you answered by pulling him into another long, passionate kiss—one full of wanting and need, one that was much overdue.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie mumbles before he slowly slips himself into you.

The stretch was so good; you had been more than prepared for his cock, so when he entered you, all you felt was pleasure.

“Oh god.” You clawed at his back, biting down on his shoulder, pussy clamping down on him.

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight.” Eddie was already having a hard time fighting off his orgasm as his hips slowly rocked back and forth into you.

“More.” You plead.

Eddie situated himself so he could fuck you like he meant it, to fuck you so good you’re seeing stars.

“Be careful what you wish for, baby.” You had no idea what was coming when it came to sex with Eddie.

He was an animal, a beast, a man untamed.

His hips start getting faster, and his movements are calculated and raw. Each undulation of his hips into you was so delicious you could no longer think. You’re crying out as his cock hits your sweet spot in each thrust. He works his cock into your pussy as it sucks him in each time, taking him in willingly and refusing to let go.

“That’s it, baby, taking my cock so good” he watches as his cock disappears inside of you, gripping onto your soft inner thighs to spread your legs as wide as they can go.

“Look at that baby,” his thumb brushes your swollen clit, “so pretty and puffy for me,” he praises, and your pussy clamps down on him once again.

“Oh, she likes it when I’m nice to her, huh?”

Fuck he needs to stop talking to your pussy, or else you can’t hold on much longer.

“I want to come!”

“Come on, my cock, baby, show me you’re mine.”

That did it for you. Your second orgasm takes over your mind, body and spirit. Your floating on a cloud as Eddie rolls his cock into it and runs your clit so good you’re seeing stars.

Eddie is out of breath, but he still continues chasing after his own orgasm.

“I want you to come,” you mindlessly say, not realizing you're talking.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you full of my cum. Is that what you want?”

“Please! Give it to me, baby,” you pout, and the look on your face sends Eddie over the edge.

Jagged breaths fill the silent room as Eddie collapses on top of you before he rolls over to catch his breath.

“Wow.” Is all you say before giggling.

“Did I rock your world or what.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. It's too bad it took you this long to do it; we could have been doing this for weeks now.”

“Hey, come here,” he drags you into his arms, stealing another kiss.

“I’m going to get a towel.” Eddie sits up on the edge of the bed so he can take off the soiled condom and toss it in the trash.

Not realizing how shaky his legs are, they give out, and he falls forward.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” You start laughing.

“God damn, I fucked you good, didn’t I?” he laughs.

“And you said I was the one who couldn’t walk tomorrow.” You shriek in a fit of giggles as Eddie lay on the floor, ass up face down.

“You’re a goddamn succumbs, you know that? Sucked the life right out of me.” He laughs into the floor.

“Your ass is like a fuzzy peach, I want t to bite it.”

“Why don’t you come over?” he says, dragging you into his arms. And have a taste, then.

[glassrunner]

Mirror's Edge Catalyst [33/∞]

[strangerquinns]

Deadly Reunion| Chapter 27

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues (no use of y/n)

word count:2K+

⪻ previous chapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist | chapter one

Eddie never thought of himself to be a lucky man. He was the kid who lived in a trailer park with his Uncle cause his dead-beat father couldn’t handle raising him. Not after Eddie’s mother died.

Wayne took Eddie in once he heard his once brother-in-law was leaving his ten-year-old son home, nearly starving, so he could steal some care or do some drugs.

That was maybe the one time Eddie thought of himself as lucky now that he really thinks about it.

Eddie didn’t even want to imagine what his life would be like if he was raised by his father.

But after that, Eddie was never lucky again.

Bullied relentlessly through middle and high school by the same group of kids who saw him as nothing but a freak. All because he refused to fit into the cookie-cutter life everyone else in Hawkins seemed to fall into eventually.

He repeated high school more times than he’d like to admit.

Even when Eddie thought his luck was changing and Corroded Coffin was finally discovered, signed a record deal, and started recording an album.

The world ended, cutting his dreams and the life he knew short.

Now Eddie doesn’t really understand the cruel joke that is continuing to play out as he lives each day through. Where he had to stand back and watch friends and family die – Eddie was still here. Going through each day just hoping to be able to wake up alive the next.

But then you came back into his life – then Eddie thought he was once again a lucky man.

After years of the two of you being apart, by some miracle or way of god, you stumbled back into his life.

But then Eddie had never felt fear like when you collapsed into his arms.

When you were hurt before – Gareth was there to tell him that you were ok before he even saw you. He didn’t have his other best friend this time to tell him that everything was ok. Not when your eyes rolled into the back of your head, and you dropped limp into his arms. Eddie scrambled to catch you before your head smacked down against the ground beneath you. He didn’t have someone to tell him that you were okay as blood started coming into your ears, not a lot, but enough to cause worry.

No matter how much Eddie shook you to have you wake up, you lay there in his arms. Barely breathing, eyes not opening.

Steve was the one to snap him out of it, reminding him that they needed to get back to camp. Eddie gathered you in his arms and ran like he’d never run before. Ignoring the way his body screamed out in pain as he carried you in his arms. Instead, focus on the path in front of him and the warmth of your body against his. Behind him, Steve and Wendy ran alongside him, the entire way till they got back to camp.

Covering Eddie’s 6 whenever it was needed – thankful that the colder weather caused packs of Flayed to be sparse.

“Open the gate! Open the gate!” Steve shouted as the gate of the Camp came into view.

The men above moved quickly to pull the gate open, allowing the three of them through. Eddie didn’t stop to speak with anyone as he passed others through the front lawn of the Lab or through the main entrance. Instead, he went straight to Gareth, once again praying that his friend would be able to help.

“What happened?” Gareth asked, working quickly as he examined you.

“I-I don’t know,” Eddie spoke in a rush, “We got separated. When we finally found each other she collapsed not long after.”

Gareth nodded his head as he pointed a small flashlight into your eyes, feeling a small spark of relief when your pupils dilated.

“We need space, Eddie. I’m sorry.” Gareth explained, already pushing on his friend's chest. Pushing him away from you.

His throat choked with panic as his dark eyes focused on you.

“The medical wing is filling up with more people than we’re prepared for. I will do everything I can, but please.” Gareth spoke again before Eddie was out the double doors.

Eddie stood there and looked through the small circular window as he saw Gareth walk back to you. He didn’t get to watch for long – not as the curtain was pulled and everything was out of sight. Steve and Wendy came running down the hall as Eddie leaned against the wall, dropping his hands to his knees, and letting out a pathetic cry.

Eddie didn’t care that he looked weak at that moment.

He didn’t care what others would think of him as the tears moved down his dirt and blood-stained face.

All he could think was that finally his luck ran out and he was going to lose you.

Eddie’s leg anxiously bounced as he sat at your bedside, his eyes focused on your bruised face, the need to sleep causing a headache to form.

“You need to go and get some rest,” a gentle voice spoke from his left.

Blonde hair and bright blue eyes looked down at him with a gentle smile spreading across her lips. She walked to the empty side of your bed and bent down to overcheck the dressings wrapped around your ribs. You refractured the little healing your ribs did from your last injury.

That wasn’t the scariest part.

No. The scariest came from when no one was able to figure out what the damage to your head.

After speaking with Wendy, who was in a quarantine room currently, Gareth was able to determine that you had smacked your head when fighting with Henry. The additional head trauma to what you’d already been through, on top of the possible concussion – your body had simply been through too much.

No matter how much Gareth tried to tell him that rest was good, that your body needed it, needed it to heal. Eddie didn’t care. He wouldn’t believe that you were okay till you once again opened your eyes.

“I’m sorry…what?” Eddie spoke, blinking his eyes a few times to relieve some of the fatigue he was feeling.

“You should go and get some rest. Staying up and torturing yourself isn’t going to help her out at all.” Chrissy, one of the new volunteers for the medical wing spoke. “I’m sure she’d want you to take care of yourself, no?”

Eddie didn’t answer even though he knew that she was right. They sat in a long moment of silence as Chrissy checked you over, it wasn’t till she was about to leave that he spoke.

“I don’t want to leave her,” Eddie spoke softly. So soft, Chrissy wasn’t sure if she heard him at all. “Not when she needs me.”

Chrissy smiled slightly, with nothing but gentleness in her eyes, “Go and shower, get some sleep, eat, and come back. If she wakes before you can make it back here, I’ll come and get you myself.”

Eddie opened his mouth, but she raised a hand to stop him.

“You’re covered in dirt, blood, and god knows what else. She is not going to want to see you like that. Trust me,”

Eddie nodded his head, “The moment she wakes?”

“I will come and get you.” Chrissy agreed.

Eddie sat there for a moment, his dark moon eyes falling on your form, before looking back to Chrissy and standing. He took a half step forward before sweeping back your hair, and bending down, to brush his lips against your forehead.

“I’ll be back, sweetheart, I promise,” Eddie whispered before kissing your forehead again.

“Thank you,” Eddie said to Chrissy before walking away from your bedside and heading toward his trailer.

Where he took a cold shower, washed the dirt from his pale skin, and changed his clothes before crawling back into bed.

It didn’t take much effort for sleep to take over his mind.

But when the dreams did come – he was once again just a boy from a trailer park but this time holding the girl that he loved most.

Eddie walked slowly around his trailer as the early morning started to come up through the trees. The sleep that he had wanted, more so needed, barely came. He spent more time tossing and turning with worry than anything else. He poured his coffee into a worn mug he’d kept in a cupboard. It was weird for him to walk around and not hear you padding around in the bedroom or bathroom.

But he tried not to focus on that, knowing it would only cause his worry to increase, but it was there in the back of his mind. Instead, he dressed and headed out of his trailer and to the main area of the Camp. He helped out with those who needed it and picked up a little more work wherever it was seen needed. They had lost a few people – meaning there were fewer hands in some areas to keep the Camp running.

“We might need to run a raid soon, Hopper said that some of the supplies are running down quickly, especially medical needs,” Steve spoke as he and Eddie worked with unloading some of the food grabbed from the small garden. The last few crops it seemed with the weather getting colder.

“I had a feeling that would be coming up,” Eddie sighed, wiping away his curls from his forehead. “Do we even have enough for a run?”

“We’d either have to gather new recruits or with a smaller group.” Steve shrugged.

Eddie hesitated for a moment, “How is Robin? I haven’t seen her around since we’ve come back.”

“Not…not great.” Steve paused for a moment before continuing, “Losing Vicki really seemed to send her over. It’s going to take some time.”

Eddie nodded his head in understanding before continuing to finish up their project. Once the two men were done, they headed back up to the main floor. Eddie couldn’t help but look down the hallway that led toward the medical wing. Steve caught the moment and saw the frown that deepened on his friend's face.

“How is she?” Steve asked with a soft voice.

A heavy sigh passed through Eddie’s lips, looking down as his hands grasped together tightly.

“I-I don’t really know outside of that she had suffered some trauma to her head, or at least that’s what Gareth is saying was the cause. Not much they can really do with the little that they have.” Eddie looked to his friend, “I’m trying not to hover and be in the way, but…it’s hard…I worry. I can’t go back to how it was before she was here, Steve. I can’t.”

“Who said that you have to? Why would that thought come into your mind, man.” Steve spoke hurriedly.

“I can’t help it.” Eddie shook his head, “I just…can’t help it.”

Eddie sighed heavily and walked the trail back to his trailer, before changing out of his clothes, and into something more comfortable. And then he walked the path once again and down to the medical wing. He walked by a few that he saw resting in the cots, a few tending to them, or family sitting with them.

But his focus was on you and only you.

You were tucked beneath the blanket that was draped across you, fresh bandages along your knuckles and forehead. Eddie grabbed the chair that sat pressed against the wall beside your bed before taking a seat. Your face was still serene from the deep sleep you were in despite the bruises that decorated your face.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie spoke as he reached over and grabbed your hand gently, before continuing and telling you about his day.

Hoping in some way it would not only bring you comfort.

But have you come back to him.

I hope that you enjoy the new chapter, a short little filler. Please reblog, like, or comment if you enjoyed it!

@mopeymopeymouse / @aris-house / @brxkenartt /@akiratoro420

@stylesxmunson/ @aactuaaltraash / @fandomgirl17 / @ches-86/ @chaoticcancer / @munsonology / @bellamy-barnes / @theonlyh3artbreaker / @idkidknemore / @familyvideowithsteve / @eddiesdingus / @thefemininemystiquee / @the-world-is-a-mess-and-so-am-i / @xdarkcreaturex / @lunr-flwr / @cherry-omi/ @im-emma22@munson-enthusiast / @munsonmecrazy / @jupitar-jul / @katiemrty/ @maddie-luvs-eddie /@eddiemusworld/ @ih3artdanielle / @eddiesguitarskills / @hargrovesswifee /@chaoticcancer / @rh1nestonecowg1rl / @atombombbibunny /@munson-enthusiast / @hellf-1-re / @fangirling-4-ever / @corrcdedcoffin /@sidthedollface2 / @emma77645 / @eddiiiieeee /@beep-beep-sherlock / @moldy-khunt / @bokutoswifey /@trixyvixx / @lma1986 / @plk-18 / @sav12321

[chiskz]

fake feelings in fake world

𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: few days before Jan 3 2023 ; Jan 3 2023

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2k

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: were the fans right and Seungmin & Chichi's relationship is fake? how did it even happen?

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬: Seungmin & Chichi's dating news || is seungmin and chichi's relationship fake?

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: swearing, angst

♡ @g4m3girl

____________________

♡taglist: @smh-anon , @curly-fr13s (since you wanted skz reaction to their relationship! ♡)

____________________

《 ♡ 》

It was an ordinary day. I mean, it would definitely be ordinary and busy with the Stray Kids schedule, if it wasn't for the phone call Chichi came to pick up. She was called by none other than JYPe, without revealing any details letting the girl figure out what was going on. Stressed out, though knowing she'd done nothing wrong, she bit her lower lip. She was lucky that the rest of her dormmates, Minho, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin, were too busy with their morning routine to notice that she had left early.

Three people were already waiting for her in the office, which only added to her stress and made the situation even more serious. So she sat down silently, and then the laptop was turned in her direction, on which the video was ready to be turned on. Chichi swallowed loudly when it turned out that it was a recording of her going out with Changbin. They weren't doing anything wrong, of course, but the situation presented could have looked bad out of context. It was the day they visited the restaurant together. The space they occupied consisted of a table and a couch where they sat together, very close to each other. It was so noisy there that they sat down this way just to hear each other better. However, the fact the way their faces were close plus the possibly intentional poor quality of the video may have hinted at a kiss in some moments. Chichi didn't say anything for a long time, clasping her hands tightly on her knees.

"We got this in an email yesterday from those idiot Dispatch reporters, if you can even call them reporters, damn it." The only man in the room, in a suit, began to speak.

Chichi cleared her throat loudly, trying to regain her voice.

"But it only looks that way, you know we would never-"

"We know." She was interrupted by an elegantly dressed woman with short hair. “But you have to admit that it's not about what really happened there. It's what it looks like."

The girl fell silent again, until finally the woman sitting next to her spoke up.

"We'll think about what to do with it. They want to publish it, but oddly enough they're open to negotiation. It's not going to be good for Stray Kids image, you know... Not after we worked hard to earn the trust for this group, after we decided to keep its male group status. People will gossip that a woman in a men's group always ends up in some kind of dating scandal."

Chichi silently nodded her head, looking down at her hands, only now noticing the nails dug into the skin. She quickly loosened the clamps.

"You can go for now. We will call you to inform you of the decision as soon as there is one." The meeting ended with the man who started it.

Chichi almost noiselessly got up and left the office. She had barely time to get into the elevator before she slid down the wall to the floor, sliding her hands nervously in her hair. Damn it, damn it! Hiatus? Will they kick her out? Will they both be kicked out? Why didn't they call Changbin, why did they only notice the problem in her, as a woman?

•••

The last few days have been torture for Chichi. She managed to cover up her nervous behavior with the excuse of being tired. Eventually, however, she received a call to the office again. Imagine her surprise when she also found ... Seungmin there. She sat down silently beside him at the table in the big conference room. She asked soundlessly "what are you doing here?", to which she received an equally surprised shrug of the shoulders.

Finally, the same three people who had talked to Chichi before entered the room. The girl nervously adjusted her sitting position. A man spoke.

“We paid Dispatch, so the video will not see the light of day. However…” Here the man paused for a moment. “However, the information that there is a dating scandal in Stray Kids has already been published. Netizens’ reactions vary, but it's strangely mostly excitement."

“So we decided with the rest of the board to seize this moment and reassure the fans that this is true. A well-managed relationship can help us gain even more publicity.”

"And you're telling us this because..?" Seungmin asked. Not because he couldn't guess what was going on, but because he wanted to hear the details from their lips - and gracefully reject their every offer.

"You and Chichi don't seem like a popular couple. Therefore, not only will fans get their wanted relationship, they will also get a relationship so unexpected that interest in it will increase even more."

"You're not being serious right now, are you?" Chichi spoke for the first time since arriving.

"I remind you that if it weren't for your carefree behavior, we wouldn't be here."

"Excuse me?" The girl immediately went into defensive mode. “First of all, I wasn't doing anything bad, I was having dinner with a friend from my group. Second, why are you blaming me for this? Was I in that restaurant alone or what?"

Seungmin placed his hand on Chichi's thigh, squeezing it slightly to calm her down. So she did, she stopped talking. The woman continued.

"In any case, if you do not agree to this, we will have to terminate your contract prematurely. Or not just yours, but the entire Stray Kids. We don't know what will happen to this situation if we don't take control of it."

Chichi was about to get up and keep talking though, when Seungmin was faster.

"Okay, okay. Let's do it."

The girl gave him a questioning look as she sat back down. The management smiled and nodded to him, then turned their eyes to Chichi, waiting for her answer. And yet in such an absurd situation there could be only one answer... Ichi swallowed loudly and lowered her head sharply. She wouldn't say it looking them in the eyes, wouldn't give them that strange satisfaction.

"Okay, okay... Let's do it."

•••

"Where have you been all this time?"

Felix greeted them as they entered the dorm. It was a day off from group activities, so the boy took the chance to catch up on his favorite game. He had just taken a break after a successful match to warm up some takeaway food he hadn’t eaten earlier.

Chichi looked at him briefly, taking off her shoes and throwing them anywhere, which she usually doesn't do. Seungmin arranged her shoes neatly before taking off his own.

"Chichi and I are a couple from today."

"Oh that's great, congratula-... Wait what?" Felix turned quickly from the microwave to look at the two of them. He blinked several times. "What?"

Chichi looked at Seungmin with an almost scolding look. He got straight to the point!

"Did I hear right?" Jeongin came out of the bathroom, drying his wet hair with a towel. "What is it about?"

"Relax, it's just a fake relationship." Chichi added, taking one, just heated by Felix, piece of chicken. As soon as she saw Jeongin, she realized that she hadn't eaten all day because of being nervous.

"How is it fake?" Felix handed her the meat sauce straight away. "I don't understand any of this, will one of you speak more clearly?"

So Seungmin took it upon himself the dubious honor of letting the others in on the matter, aside from the threatening of contract termination looming over them, of course, and the fact that it all started with Ichi's video with Changbin.

Jeongin stopped drying his hair, standing in disbelief, and Felix's first reaction was to call Chan and have him and the rest of the other dorm come to them immediately. Chichi didn't want Changbin to know, but she also knew that it was only a matter of time, so she didn't stop the young Australian. Less than 10 minutes had passed and Hyunjin and 3RACHA were already in their dorm, listening to Seungmin as he patiently told everything a second time.

Chichi, listening to him, sat on a chair at the kitchen table with her head down. She didn't dare look at Changbin. Even though neither she nor he had done anything wrong, nothing forbidden. Hyunjin was standing next to the maknae in similar shock, Han and Minho were standing next to Felix still by the microwave, Changbin was silent but it was a very painful silence. Chan was ready to leave the dorm and personally unleash hell in the JYPe building.

"It’s all right." Chichi finally spoke up, raising her head slightly to be heard better. "It’s all right. Let's pretend, we'll get some publicity. It will be good for us.”

Chan stopped halfway down the hall, looking at her.

"But that's not how it should be!" Han called. "You get fame with good music, relationship with fans, not some sick fake theater!"

"I said it’s okay." Repeated the girl, trying to sound firm, even though she herself was close to tears. "That's how you do it in show business sometimes. No one will be harmed.” She reassured in a slightly softer tone.

Han didn't say anything anymore, because he knew that there was no discussion with stubborn Chichi. Changbin walked out onto the balcony without a word. Jeongin nodded to Chichi as a sign that she should go talk to him alone. She didn't really want to, but she knew she wasn't the only one suffering from this situation. So she got up slowly and also went to the balcony.

"Changbin..." She began softly, standing as far away from him as the balcony area would allow.

"You really think it's okay?" He asked in a slightly dry tone. Chichi had heard him talk like that before, but never was this tone directed at her. This only convinced her that in a moment she would really start crying.

"Yes. No… I don't know.” She stuttered awkwardly. "If it's something the label wants, we should trust them, they know what they're doing and--"

"Have you thought about what you want?" He asked, turning his head towards her, still leaning against the balustrade.

Chichi couldn't answer him. She couldn't think straight, let alone make sense.

“I… sometimes…I think being part of a team is not about putting yourself first.” She finally replied, mainly referring to their endangered contracts – but, obviously, Changbin couldn't know that.

The man began to think over her words, but she knew that wasn't the answer to his question.

"It's stupid. This shit is just hopelessly stupid." He grunted and walked past her going back inside, leaving Chichi alone on the balcony.

She stayed on it for a good few minutes, trying to cool down herself. It wasn't that easy, especially since the tears were still fighting bravely to finally find an exit from her eyes. She went inside but found no one in the kitchen except Felix and Jeongin eating at the table. This sudden emptiness and equally sudden silence was the last straw that broke the cup. Chichi rushed to her room and started packing, dropping a lot of things absently. The noise was suspicious enough that soon Jeongin and Felix entered her room.

"God, what are you doing?" Felix asked immediately, taking her suitcase in one motion.

"I don't want to be here!" She cried out with tears in her eyes, which she no longer had the strength or desire to hold back. "I don't want to, I don't want to... Let me go!" She called out to the maknae, who wordlessly hugged her back to him and sat down with her on the floor. "Let me go, I said let me go!"

"Be quiet. Just cry out." He whispered as Felix began to slowly clean up the mess she had made.

And so did Chichi. She started to cry, no… She started to howl, leaning forward to let her hair cover her tear-damp face.

"What is this shit... what kind of shitty world is this where feelings are forbidden?"

《 ♡ 》

[sappymix1]

im so late and these are truly getting excessively long but 2k words of girl dnf for the day three prompt: mermaids!! reblog to support your local hot lesbian oceanographer :)

Dream squinted into the sun, leaning forward and forward until the railing off the ship pressed hard against her stomach. The tiny strip of land she was searching for should have been appearing any minute, dark splotch against the waves made orange by the increasingly setting sun. If she found it now, she could talk someone into letting her take one of the exploratory crafts to check it out before it got too dark and they had to be on their way.

They weren’t that far from the coast. They’d had to stop in Positano to pick up food and fresh water that morning, and the captain had decided to hug the Amalfi coast for the time being. Something about wanting to enjoy their time within arm’s reach of civilization while they still could. Dream had gone with Sapnap for the day, the two of them climbing narrow streets, popping into tiny shops with glass fish that made Dream’s heart just about fall out of her chest when she realized how fragile they were, and eating more good Italian food than anyone needed to during only a few hour period. Positano was gorgeous. Someone could have spent a lifetime getting to explore it. Within about an hour, Dream’s entire body was aching to get back to the sea. 

Finally, the island she had been waiting for rose up against the sky. She pulled away from the edge of the ship and went back to where Sapnap was sitting perched on a barrel, recording notes with a shaky pen. “I’m going out,” she announced, already pulling on her boots and slipping the hair tie off of her wrist to put her hair up and out of her eyes. “Can you lower the exploratory boat for me?” 

Sapnap looked up from her notes. Dream could see a map of the Tyrrhenian with tiny red x’s marking the spots they’d stopped and a sloppy sketch of a few shells before she closed her notebook. “Did you ask?”

“Obviously,” Dream shifted back and forth from foot to foot, already getting anxious about the impending sunset. “There’s an island I want to check out before we leave. Captain said we’re supposed to drop anchor for the night around here.”

Sapnap sighed, getting up to go lower the vessel. “If you crash or something and we have to stage a rescue mission while i’m trying to sleep, I’m going to be so fucking pissed.”

Dream scoffed. “I’m not going to crash.” She couldn’t help feeling a bit indignant; she’d been sailing since she could walk and she’d been studying these waters for years. “Have a little bit of confidence in me, dude.”

Sapnap didn’t respond but within a few seconds, there was a loud creaking noise and Dream’s small boat was floating in the water below. 

Dream glanced at the sun. It wasn’t too low; she still had plenty of time to go and come back. “Bye, Sap. I’ll radio if I need anything.” Sapnap, despite her protests earlier, just nodded as Dream climbed down to the boat.

The ocean was fairly gentle, kept calm by the protective curve of the peninsula that it nestled up against. Dream could have handled worse – had handled worse – but she wasn’t complaining about anything that saved her time. 

The first detail of the island she could see was the rocky shoreline. There were tiny angles that she knew were stone steps, going up to where rock turned to green bushes and scrawny, twisting trees. As she got closer, more of the undefined shapes focused to form a wall of stacked rocks and the top of one of the old abandoned buildings she had seen the outline of on Google Earth a million times over. 

Her hands shook slightly as she neared the island, heart all but beating out of her chest. She was so excited; if she wasn’t so focused on what she was doing, Dream would barely have been able to sit still. Once she was close enough, she killed the engine and pulled her coveralls, previously tied at her waist, the rest of the way off to reveal the swim shorts she had underneath. She couldn’t pull the boat all the way up to the island, so she was going to have to swim a few feet. She pulled at her gray tank top. Whatever, it would dry pretty quickly anyway. 

The water was warm against her skin when she finally jumped in. She loved swimming in Italy; there was something that felt so…citrusy. Like biting into an orange in summer. It only took a few strokes before she was able to grab onto a rock and pull herself up, but she savored every second of it. 

The sound of the island was made up purely of the chirping of the birds and the lapping of the sea against the rocks. As Dream carefully climbed along the edge of the island, looking for the best place to try to climb up to the top, she could feel the gravity of being the only person on the island deep into every cell in her body.

“Aren’t you not supposed to be on the rocks?”

Dream jumped, and the only thing that kept her from stumbling was years and years of walking on unsteady waters. “Holy shit, you scared me,” she said, breathless.

The girl treading water a few feet out from the rocks laughed, leaning back slightly as she brought her arms up to her chest. Her shoulders were shaking and Dream would have been annoyed if her laughter hadn’t been so contagious. “Idiot. What if you had, like, smashed your head on a rock? Nobody would have even known you were here. What would you have done?”

“You would have known I was here,” Dream pointed out, stepping carefully down from the path to get to the closest flat rock to the sea. 

“Yeah, but are you sure I would have done something?” the girl asked, drifting a bit to the side. Her movements were so fluid that Dream could barely see the shift of her limbs to propel herself. She felt a bit of fondness for her, at that, despite her insistence at scaring her and then making fun of her, for someone else raised by the sea. 

“I don’t know,” Dream said, making her best eye contact despite the way the setting sun bathed everything in bright orange. “Would you?” 

She didn’t know if it was the eye contact or the tone, but the girl’s confidence finally faltered, dark eyes glancing downward as her nose and cheeks flushed. “I mean, I guess.” Her eyes were drawn off to the side by a small bird hopping across the rocks a few feet away. “I’d feel bad if I didn’t.”

Her looking at the bird gave Dream a chance to examine her closer without fear of being caught. She looked Dream’s age – mid twenties or so – and the dark freckles and slight sunburn splattered across her cheeks spoke of spending a lot of time in the sun. Her hair was dark and completely soaked, but it still hung in loose curls around her shoulders in a way that Dream’s never had after being in the ocean. There was a necklace with what looked like a piece of light blue sea glass hanging from it. When she turned back around, it was Dream’s turn to blush as she raised an eyebrow.

“I wasn’t lying, though,” the girl swam a bit closer, grabbing onto the rock next to Dream with one small, tan hand. Dream thought, momentarily, she was going to pull herself up on land, but she didn’t. “You’re not supposed to be here. Since the old Russian guy died, they’ll let people swim and bring their boats out and whatever, but you’re not supposed to dock.” She sounded a bit reproachful.

Dream shrugged ruefully. “I won’t tell if you won’t?” 

“I won’t tell if you tell me what you’re doing here,” the girl amended. “Tell me.” Her voice was a bit bossy, in a way that could have been annoying, but Dream found it mostly to be a bit…not charming. But she felt a rush of affection at it. 

“I’m on an expedition studying the seafloor. We’re looking for, like, archeological stuff and trying to map the floor. I’d read about the island though, and I wanted to see it. I’m Dream, by the way.” The last part was a self-indulgent bit of familiarity, said with a lopsided smile and she, silently, begged the girl to pick up on it.

She seemed to, or at least she seemed to be aware of what Dream was picking at. She sighed, dramatic. “I’m Georgie.” She paused for a second, seeing if Dream was going to say anything, but when she didn’t, Georgie went back to her aggressively toned questioning. “What are you looking for here then?”

“I wanted to see the monastery,” Dream said. She knelt down, sitting down on the rock with her legs dangling in the water. She swung her legs slowly back and forth, warm water gentle against her skin. “I’ve never been able to find pictures; I don’t know how much is left.”

“I think the Russian guy who used to own it changed a lot.” Georgie looked surprised at first when Dream got closer, but then she seemed to accept it. “I don’t know. Nobody goes there. Because it’s not allowed.” 

“But you can swim here,” Dream said, leaning forward a bit. She was aware of the setting sun, of the ocean burning more and more orange as it fell in the sky, and that she was running out of time, but something about Georgie was intriguing. She didn’t want to pull herself out of this conversation. “What, did you like boat over or something?” 

Georgie tilted her head, averting her eyes, for a second, but then she nodded. “Yeah, it’s over on the other side. I wanted to swim around it.” 

She was still treading water, and Dream suddenly felt bad. Georgie was obviously a strong swimmer, but if she’d already swam around the island, she had to be getting tired. “Do you want to jump up and sit?” she asked.

Georgie hesitated. “I probably shouldn’t.”

Dream, suddenly, realized that she couldn’t see any bathing suit strap over Georgie’s shoulders. “Oh, fuck.” She could feel her face burning. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it – I didn’t realize –”

Georgie rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, not for that reason. Stop freaking out. It’s…” she hesitated, and then shook her head. With a mumbled I’m so going to regret this that Dream hardly heard, she finally pulled herself up to sit on the rock next to Dream. 

“Oh.” Dream’s voice was barely there.

Georgie looked down, shy again, at the water pooling against the rocks. “Yeah.” 

Where a bathing suit top would have been were beautiful, dark blue scales that glistened in the setting sun, forming swirls and patterns against the smooth skin of her chest. They expanded downwards, covering the expanse of where freckled legs like Dream’s own would have been to form a long, elegantly strewn tail. Georgie shifted awkwardly, and feathery fins at the bottom rose to the surface and made the water ripple. “Sorry,” she said, still looking embarrassed. “It’s weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Dream said, and she didn’t think that she had ever been more genuine in her life. “It’s beautiful.” 

Georgie’s cheeks were still flushed, but her mouth quirked into a cat-like smile. “So, you’re exploring the ocean floor?”

[skzhocomments]

Broken hearts can heal - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter X - Make up

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad link

AO3 link

Chapter IX / Chapter XI

---

Chapter X - Make up

word count: 2k words

You went to sleep as well and got a few hours in before Haru woke up at 4:30 AM, and you hated him, your life, and everyone else.

You were still so upset at Minho. How could he say those things to you?

How was it fair for him to treat you like that?

You fed Haru, then played with him for a bit. He was beginning to babble and make lots of cute sounds, which you loved hearing so much. Looking at him, you started feeling like a failure again for outright hating him for waking you up and crying. You knew he was in pain from the teething, and he was just a baby. Crying was his only way of communicating.

When Haru quieted down a bit, you finally found a moment of peace, so you decided to go take a quick shower.

On your way to the bathroom, you saw Minho sleeping on the sofa. You wondered why he fell asleep over there instead of in his bedroom. The room was sparkling clean, there were no more cups on the table, Haru's dirty clothes were gone, and you felt bad again for leaving a mess behind you for Minho to clean up.

You disliked him right now, just as you disliked everything else after being woken up and not managing to rest yet again. Still, it was a bit chilly, since the AC was on, so you grabbed a thin blanket and put it over him. You didn't want him to catch a cold.

You then resumed your quest to take a shower and quickly hopped in and turned on the water, when you heard the beautiful screech of Haru's voice screaming his lungs out once again.

If there was a record for the quickest shower in the world, you were sure the prize would be yours, as it took you less than 2 minutes to put soap on, wash it off, dry yourself with a towel and run out, but by the time you opened the nursery door again, Minho was already rocking Haru to sleep and whispering kind words to him.

Your gaze warmed up at the sight, and when he saw you, he smiled softly.

"Hey." He whispered.

You just nodded.

"Did you... sleep? At least a little?" He asked hesitantly.

"Yea." You replied coldly, avoiding his gaze. You looked at the empty crib instead.

"Listen, about last night..."

"What about it?"

"I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said that..."

"You shouldn't have said what?" You questioned. Maybe it was petty, but you wanted him to acknowledge exactly what wrong things he said.

"Everything... I was just so mad... you were right, I was taking it out on you, and didn't think clearly, and you happened to be there, and I was annoyed. You are the best mom, and I'm an idiot."

You chuckled hearing the end of the sentence.

"You're not an idiot, Minho." You went near him and touched his shoulder, watching him look at you with tired eyes. He looked exhausted as well.

"No, I definitely am. You do so much around here, and you're taking such good care of Haru, and I just disregarded everything you do."

"It's just... it might not seem like much to you, Minho. You're right. I stay home with the baby and that's my job, basically. It should be easy, right?" You chuckled, trying to find a way to express exactly why what he said hurt so much.

"I never said it was easy-"

"But you know what?" You interrupted him, wanting to finish your point. "Compared to a regular job, let's say yours, I don't get any breaks, any time off. You filmed something, right? I bet you had horribly full days that made you tired. But you still got to go to your hotel and sleep uninterrupted, you still had mealtimes, you could shower, you could talk with friends and other people on set. I couldn't do any of that. I was stuck here, having no adult conversations with anyone, I couldn't find enough time to eat or shower, Haru was difficult..."

Hearing you, Minho teared up.

"You're right, Da-Eun, I was a prick. I'm sorry. I really appreciate you and what you're doing, and I really think you're amazing for how well you're taking care of Haru."

"I'm also sorry. For what I said about your co-star and stuff..."

"That's okay. You were upset and had all the reasons to be."

"No, it was not okay, I could've been calmer."

"I could've not started the argument, so let's not dwell on it." Minho chuckled.

"How is your company going to deal with that? The dating rumours, I mean."

"Well, I'm already married, so that helps." He chuckled then looked into your eyes.

You sighed deeply.

"How can you do it?"

"What?" He asked concerned, noticing your frown.

"Deal with all the hate. What they're saying about me, about us, it's crazy." You chuckled. "They even pick on Haru, those comments are the worst. He's a baby, for fuck's sake."

"Hmm." He contemplated. "I try to focus on the positive things instead. I don't read the hate comments at all, and if I stumble upon one, I just ignore it completely, because fuck it, they don't know anything about us."

You nodded.

"You're so good at quieting Haru down." You noticed fondly. Haru seemed so at peace in Minho's arms, you were quite jealous of his insane ability to calm him down immediately.

It was truly a heartwarming sight that you loved seeing, and you were quite concerned about the feelings you started harbouring for Minho. 

You weren't sure if he even felt the same, or if you were still Kibum's girlfriend in his mind, and you didn't know how to broach the topic.

You had lots of therapy sessions on this topic, and your therapist kept reminding you that catching feelings for someone you spend so much time with is normal, that you shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to move on and feel happy again. It was nothing wrong for you to love someone else, and it didn't mean erasing Kibum's memory.

"He's an angel." Minho whispered, rocking Haru to sleep gently. "Why don't you go get some more rest, Da-Eun? I'll stay with Haru and sleep some more as well after he falls asleep."

"Won't you... come sleep with me, instead?" You asked hesitantly, since you've never slept next to the other before. However, tonight, more than any other night, you felt like you really craved some intimacy.

"Of course." Minho smiled lazily. "I'll get the baby monitor, then. Go first, and I'll join you as soon as he's asleep."

"Okay." You nodded and went to his bedroom, laying down on your right side on the bed and closing your eyes.

You didn't sleep here while Minho was gone, and the bedsheets haven't been changed in some time, so everything smelled like him, and you were once again engulfed with this sense of peace you had the first time you slept in this bed. You loved Minho's smell. Hell, his mere presence was enough.

After some time, you were almost asleep when you heard the door open and the other side of the bed sagging down.

"Is he sleeping?" You asked slowly as you felt Minho's arm embracing you, his body pressed against yours.

"Mhm. Why aren't you?"

"I waited for you..." Your voice trailed off. You were really sleepy, but Minho's body next to yours made you really conscious, and you weren't sure how you were going to fall asleep with his breath on the back of your neck.

"Why, did you miss me these past days?"

"I missed having a break." You chuckled. If he was going to tease you, you weren't going to give in so easily.

"Woah, so I'm the only one who missed my little family! Okay! I see how it is!" He tried to pull away from you, but you grabbed his arm and held him in place.

"I'm comfortable, don't move."

"Your wish is my command." He chuckled and spooned you, keeping you close to his body. "I'm really sorry for earlier."

"I'm sorry too. We both snapped at the other."

"I was still the person who started the argument, so..."

"I forgive you." You chuckled. "And you've already apologised."

"I still feel guilty though." He said, and you were sure he was frowning.

"Then make it up to me." You chuckled. "I want to eat something delicious."

"Hmmm, should we go on a date?" He asked, making your heart swell up in your chest.

"I'd like that."

"By the way, there's this company dinner in the evening... do you want to come with me?"

"Really?" You were surprised. There were company dinners before, but he's never asked you to join him.

"Mhm. The boys will also be there, they'll be really happy to see you. Taemin's been ripping my ear off about being too busy to come here and play with Haru and talk to you." He laughed.

"Okay. Are we also taking Haru?"

"Hmm, we should get a sitter, I promised you a night off a while ago, haven't I?"

"The drinking night?" You laughed. "Sounds good."

"Uhm, Da-Eun? Sorry but..." He tried moving away, but you still kept him in place by holding his arm.

"What, running away already?"

"No, it's just that... Fuck, I'm like a boy going through puberty. I'm sorry." He shifted a bit trying to separate his lower body from yours, and you felt what he was referring to.

"Oh? Is this why you've been so frustrated earlier?" You whispered, palming his hard-on through his pants in a moment of bravery you don't think you would've had should you hadn't been so sleep deprived.

"Da-Eun..." He breathed out.

"What is it, Min?" You whispered again, starting to stroke his length, still through his pants.

"You don't have to-"

"Shh." You moved your hand under his pants to feel him naked, and as soon as your palm made contact with him and you started stroking him again, he moaned deliciously.

You turned around to catch a glimpse of him, as your hand continued going up and down, and seeing how fucked up he looked turned you on so much, you instantly moved to his crotch and took off his pants eagerly.

You took his member in your mouth and glanced at how he rolled his head back in pleasure, his hand finding the back of your head and guiding you in pleasuring him.

It was weird perhaps that you hadn't yet even kissed, nor shared such an intimate moment before. You only cuddled and hugged sometimes, Minho occasionally kissed your cheek when he came back from work and you were holding Haru and welcomed him home, but that was it. However, it somehow felt right, especially noticing how much he loved you giving him head, how his head rolled back, how he moaned, how he tasted on your tongue.

You were definitely whipped for this man.

His hand caressed your hair gently, before he moved it to the back of your head and pushed you down to deepthroat him. You let him have his way and use your mouth however he liked, and when his movements slowed down, you picked up the pace and put your hand on his dick as well, stroking him while sucking him off.

That was the end of him. His moans became louder, his grip on your hair tightened, and his head rolled back with a final groan as he released down your throat.

You swallowed his cum and continued sucking him for a few seconds afterwards, and he was in pure bliss.

When you finally removed your mouth to look at him, his eyes were sparkling with adoration.

"Da-Eun, that was-" He started speaking, getting up in a seated position. Before he got to continue what he was saying, though, the monitor started up and Haru's cries filled the room.

With a sigh, you wanted to get up, but Minho dragged you back in bed and assured you that he'll take care of it, and you should just rest.

You were so tired, but still managed to drag yourself to the bathroom to clean up, and when you came back, you fell asleep almost instantly when your head hit the pillow again.

---

(A/N) Ok now there's some real development hahahah.

How did you like this chapter?

Let me know!

Love,

Storm

---

Chapter IX / Chapter XI

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

[alisonsfics]

how could i hate you?

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

request: “would you mind writing a sebastian stan x reader fic? i had this idea where the reader & him have been dating for a while. he meets her parents & the readers parents are super rude & small minded. the reader is worried about how he’ll react. you decide the ending. can it be angst & fluff? it’s personal” - 🥺 anon

word count: 2k

warnings: controlling and derogatory parents, swearing (use of the word f***ing, but it only occurs once)

“Hey, sweetheart? You almost ready?” Your boyfriend called to you, from the other room. You were trying to put on a necklace, but you couldn’t get the clasp to close because your hands were so shaky. “Almost” you croaked, trying to push back the tears.

Tonight, you were taking Sebastian to dinner with your parents. He was going to meet them for the first time. Your nerves had consumed your entire body. Your hands were shaking, and you could feel your heart in your throat.

You loved your parents, but they tended to be hypercritical. They had both lived in a small town their entire lives. Small towns breed small mindsets. They weren’t the most supportive when you decided to move to Los Angeles. They didn’t understand the appeal of a big city.

You could handle their criticism, but the last thing you wanted was for them to be rude to Sebastian. He cared so much about their approval, and you wanted him to have it.

Sebastian peeked his head into the bathroom and saw the tears that were welling up in your eyes. Before even saying a word, he enveloped you in a hug. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you. “What's wrong, sweetheart?” He asked, while rubbing your back.

You took a deep breath and pulled out of the hug. Sebastian had a worried expression on his face. He cupped your face and left a soft kiss on your lips. “You can talk to me” he said, softly. You nodded.

“I’m really fucking nervous about tonight” you told him, your voice breaking. He pulled you back into a hug and pressed kisses into your hair. “It’ll be okay. I promise” he assured you, but you couldn’t even let yourself believe his words.

You held the collar of his shirt and buried your face in his chest. “I know how they are, Seb. They’ve always been super critical. I don’t want them to say anything rude to you” you mumbled into his chest.

He hummed, letting you know that he understood. “I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with criticism before. Besides, how could they not like me. I’m pretty amazing, right?” He joked, causing you to giggle.

You pulled away and lightly hit his arm. “There’s that smile” he said, smiling to himself. He took the necklace out of your hand and gestured for you to turn around. He clipped the hook together and then spun you around. “It’ll all be okay” he said, before taking your arm and pulling towards the front door.

As you drove down the highway, you started to tap your fingers on your thigh. It was your tell tale sign that you were nervous. Sebastian, knowing all of your little quirks, noticed instantly. He reached his hand over and interlaced his fingers with yours. “It’s just one dinner” he said, softly.

The words brought you comfort. Your parents could attack every part of Sebastian’s character, but it was still just one night. You both could home and pretend it never happened. While you wanted their approval, you didn’t need it to be happy.

He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. Before unlocking the doors, he looked over at you. “I’ll be right by your side the whole time” he said, giving you a gentle kiss. He let you take a few deep breaths, and then you both got out of the car.

You saw your parents sitting on a bench outside. They smiled when they saw you both walking towards them. You could tell it was a fake smile, but you allowed it to go unmentioned.

“You’re only ten minutes late. That’s a new record” your mom whispered, as she pulled you into a hug. You pulled away and kept an equally not-genuine smile on your face.

“Mom and Dad, meet Sebastian” you said, introducing them officially. He gave your mother a hug, and then moved to your father, shaking his hand. “That’s a nice car you have. A little expensive for my taste, but nice” your dad said, giving his signature backhanded compliment. Sebastian noticed, but just thanked him, trying to make a good impression.

Sebastian quickly opened the front door to the restaurant and allowed you all to walk inside. His hand found its familiar spot on the small of your back as you all waited for the hostess. He gave you a hopeful smile when your parents looked away.

Eventually, the hostess walked over to the stand. “Hello. I have a reservation for four. It should be under Stan” Sebastian told her. She nodded before grabbing a stack of menus and leaded you all through the restaurant.

You made it to the private room that Sebastian had requested. “Oh a private room? He’s already trying to win us over with his money” your mother sharply remarked, barely above a whisper. Sebastian pulled your seat out for you, and you all took your seats.

“So why did you pick this restaurant?” Your dad asked, at least trying to make conversation. Sebastian lit up as he remembered the story that followed along. He gestured to you, letting you tell the story.

“This was the restaurant that Sebastian took me to on our first date. I remember how nervous he was. He wanted everything to be perfect. He ordered me one of every dessert, so I wouldn’t have to pick” you said, resting your hand on top of Sebastian’s on the table. Your parents smiled as you told them the story, and you hoped it was a good sign.

“So how did you two meet?” Your mom asked you. Sebastian looked over at you, as if asking permission to tell the story. You gave him a reassuring nod. “We met at a wedding. We both knew the bride and were invited to the wedding. We got seated next to each other during the reception, and we got along really well. The rest is history” he said, smiling over at you.

It was heart warming to watch Sebastian reminisce over the night it all began. A lot had changed since then, but he was still your rock.

After a dinner full of snarky remarks and subtle insults, you were about to blow. Sebastian had his hand on your thigh, and he was trying to calm you down. All the insults had been directed towards him, but he was the one who kept a level head. You, on the other hand, wanted to scream at your parents.

You were almost done. You just had to wait to pay the check, and then you could go home and pretend this night never happened. You were so close. The waiter set down the check, and it was like you could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Sebastian reached for the check. You heard your dad scoff under his breath. You snapped.

“Alright. Out with it. What could you possibly have to say?” You asked, finally breaking. Your mom looked taken aback. “I’m just not shocked that Mr. Hollywood is trying to pay for dinner. He’s made it clear that he thinks he’s better than us” your dad said, crossing his arms.

It made your blood boil. “He’s buying you dinner. Why can’t that just be a nice thing?” You asked. You genuinely wanted to know why they were so offended by every nice gesture Sebastian made.

Your mom's expression changed as though she had been insulted. “It’s not just about paying for dinner. He’s trying to show us how much money he has. He thinks he’s better than us because he’s a fancy movie star. So what if we live in a small town? At least we appreciate the small things. All he does is spend Daddy’s money. He’s probably never had to work a day in his life. You actors are all the same” your mom chimed in.

Now, you were glad you were in a private room, so no one had to hear your screaming fest. You instinctively reached for Sebastian’s hand. You stood up from the table, taking him with you. “We’re leaving” you said, before heading towards the door. You pulled Sebastian with you.

You stopped before you grabbed the door handle and turned around to face your parents. “You know what? I have dealt with your criticism all of my life, but you are not going to attack Sebastian. He took you out to a nice dinner, and he has done nothing but be polite and kind to you. Also, he has earned every bit of his success. He left Romania at eight years old, and he built himself an amazing life. So, don’t sit here and tell me who he is. He is a loving boyfriend, and that is all that should matter to you” you said.

You turned to leave the restaurant and had to fight back the tears. Sebastian kept his arm wrapped around your waist as you exited the building. “I’ve got you” he whispered in your ear.

When you finally made it outside, he pulled you right into his arms. “Please, don’t hate me” you mumbled into chest. He pulled away from you, and all you saw on his face was confusion. “How could I hate you?” He asked, his voice softening.

“Because I was the one who said yes when they asked to meet you. I should have said no. I should have made up an excuse. I should not have made you sit through that excruciating dinner. I am so sorry” you apologized, genuinely. He cupped your face, and you could see his heart break. “Baby, I could never hate you. None of what happened in there was your fault” he assured you.

You felt a tear run down on your cheek. You felt responsible for your parent’s actions. “But they were horrible in there” you told him, confused. He wiped away your tears, hoping to wipe away the whole experience with them. “I don’t need anyone’s permission to love you” he said, before leaning in to kiss you.

“Thank you” you said, pulling him into a hug. Sebastian was always there for you when you needed it. He always knew how to calm you down. “Of course, sweetheart. Now, go sit in the car. I left my phone inside. I’ll be back in five minutes” he said, kissing your temple. You nodded and headed towards the car.

Sebastian walked back inside, but it wasn’t to grab his phone. His phone was right in his back pocket. He had kept his cool throughout dinner because you were at his side, but he had to stand up for you and himself.

He walked back to the room and found your parents still there. They were talking to each other and wore disgusted expressions. “Oh, he’s back” your dad said, his voice filled with disappointment.

Sebastian took a deep breath and maintained his composure. “I know you don’t like me, so I’m going to say this once. I love your daughter. She's the reason that I sat through this entire dinner and continued to be polite and smile. I don’t care if you approve of me, but in front of her, you will at least be civil with me. I had to watch her cry in the parking lot because she was worried you two would scare me off. I had to watch her worry that I might just walk away. You broke her heart tonight. If you do it again, I won’t be this polite” he said, before walking out of the room. He walked straight to the car, without any form of expression on his face.

When he got in the car, he simply gave you a smile. You were still worried. “Did they say anything else to you?” You asked him. He shook his head and took your hand in his. “They had already left” he lied, dismissively.

You nodded and gazed out the window. “I love you, you know that, right?” Sebastian asked, causing you to look over at him. “Of course I know that. I love you too” You asked him, confused.

He shrugged. “I just wanted to remind you that I’m never going to leave you” he told you, genuinely.

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[adorerdraco]

Malfoy’s Gone Soft! ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Draco, your boyfriend, is mean to everyone until you call him out for it.

Warnings: mentions of bullying :( and a couple profanities :0

Words: 2K 

A/N: omg i wrote this on a whim while listening to the euphoria score soundtrack in like an hour idk if its all that but i have no idea what i’m going to do next for Healing Heart so for now i’m just going to write other things for Draco until i get inspired ! & feel free to send me requests ! also thank you for 100 followers you guys are amazingggg !!!!!!!!!!! *insert pouty emojy*

The sound of arrogant and boisterous laughter filled the courtyard, the Slytherin Prince and his minions were tossing around a book bag that a helpless 2nd year Hufflepuff was chasing around every time it was thrown to another boy. One of the boys yelled a foul, “mudblood!” that made the boy tear up as he reached and jumped up for his bag that was in the air every few seconds. It was nothing new to the school, Draco and his band of bullies would bother anyone who they found as an easy target just for the fun of it.

Unfortunately for Draco, you had been passing by through one of the corridors with a group of friends when you had seen the fiasco. As much as you adored your boyfriend, you couldn’t deny the sometimes nasty persona that he had and how much it bothered you. He would always swear up and down that he would stop his antics, but you often encountered him or heard from other people of him being in the same situations that he had promised would stop. 

You marched your way over to the group, a fire in your step and your eyes fixated on Draco who was laughing like a fool. You watched as Goyle rushed to elbow Draco’s side, earning him a look until he had pointed in your direction. All joy in the blond’s face quickly drained once he saw your vexed expression heading towards him.

The book bag had dropped from his hands onto the stoned courtyard ground, the young Hufflepuff hastily grabbed it and ran off in tears back into the castle. You stomped up to Draco, noticing how he had visibly swallowed in fear at what your reaction would be.

“What happened to, ‘I swear I’ll stop being a git to everyone!’” You asked him incredulously, mocking his voice as you quoted him. 

“Malfoy said that?” Blaise chuckled as if it were a joke. Both you and Draco turned to give him a frenzied look.

“Y/N, I...” Draco trailed off, looking around at his friends who were awaiting his response with smug smiles on their faces. Then he looked towards you, a hope glittering in your eyes that he would reassure you and be the sensitive boy you knew behind closed doors and away from his every day reputation. “I...”

“So you have nothing to say for yourself?” you deadpan, a scowl making its way onto your face when you realized he wasn’t going to apologize.

“Why do you care what I do to a stupid little Hufflepuff?” He snickers. Whatever hope you had left went up in flames, he had chosen his reputation.

“Because it’s mean,” you sneered. “Why would I want to be with an arse like that?”

With that, you turned on your heel, walking out of the courtyard and back to your friends where you walked to your next class without turning back to look at the group of shocked boys.

“I think you just got dumped, mate.”

“Merlin’s sake, do you ever shut up Zabini?” Draco fumed, his heart breaking at the question and his mind running a million miles per minute. He began walking towards the entrance of the castle to head into the common room, bumping shoulders aggressively with Blaise as he did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren’t sure whether or not you and the Slytherin Prince were broken up. Of course, it was the last thing you wanted but you were sick of the endless excuses and empty promises. You knew of the package deal Draco Malfoy came with when you started dating him, but there was a point when it all became too much. You were hoping in a last ditch effort, that if he genuinely really cared for you and respected your wishes, this would be the final push he needed to change.

It’s not like you were asking him to completely stop being himself. You were only asking for him to stop with the unprovoked teasing and pushing around of innocent bystanders. His friends especially, were a big reason why he continued to do it as he loved being the leader of the group and all that came with his positions as; the funniest, the most attractive and charming, the smartest, the wealthiest, the strongest. It was all just a game to him but he never saw the aftermath of his tormenting and how it could really affect someone or their day. You were like a broken record, repeating to him over and over again the same wish you had for him but he never absorbed it.

So now here you were, furiously writing your Potions essay in the library as your mind ran with thoughts of the aggravating platinum blond and nothing having to do with Calming Draught. 

“Write any harder and you’ll break your quill,” a certain timid voice said from in front of your table. You didn’t look up, already knowing it was Draco. You didn’t want to give in so easily to his intoxicating nature because the second his scared gray eyes were to meet yours, you’d melt. “Y/N, I’m sorry. For what happened in the courtyard.”

You sighed, setting down your quill and shaking your head, eyes still trained on your parchment. “It’s not just what happened in the courtyard, Draco. It’s that you do this to someone new every single day.”

“I’ve been this way all my life, I can’t just change who I am,” he argues. You finally look at him, the both of you silently seething at each other.

“That’s not an excuse!”

“Shh! Quiet down, the two of you or you will be asked to leave,” Madam Pince exclaims angrily from her desk. You turned back to Draco, hard eyes trained on him as he glared back at you with the same irritated look.

“I would just like to know why my girlfriend feels the need to suck the life out of all my fun,” he says lowly to you. Your face goes scarlet as you try to contain your wrath from being let out on the whole library, and on Draco who wouldn’t even know where to begin to handle it. But as angry as you were, it was quickly replaced with anguish and pooling tears as you thought of the main reason why you had wanted him to be nicer.

“Because your ex-girlfriend knows how it feels like to get bullied and targeted every day for no reason,” you spit sorrowfully. “I know what it’s like to live on the opposite end of what you think is fun and I promise you it’s nothing near that.”

You hurriedly grabbed all your things and rushed out of the library with tears streaming down your face as Draco only stood there feeling like the biggest most insensitive idiot and asshole in the world. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It had been a week since the incident at the library and the both of you couldn’t be any more miserable. It had gotten to the point where Draco felt ashamed and gross if he was even accidentally rude to someone, let alone on purpose. The blond boy watched you intently from his Slytherin table in the Great Hall, his friends and their conversation sounding like a distant incoherent buzzing as he focused onto your sad and defeated face and figure from afar. 

He had tried everything he could think of to get your attention, to get you to hear his apologies, but you wouldn’t give him the time of day; you refused to. You were beyond hurt. Not only because of Draco, but also because of the painful memories that had resurfaced that you spent so long trying to get over. It was all just a mess and Draco regretted everything he had said to you and everything he didn’t do for you.

“Just give it a rest, Draco,” Pansy sighs exasperated at the boy’s longing stares. “She broke up with you, stop pouting about it and move on.”

“Shut up, Pansy,” Draco sneers. “Mind your business why don’t you.”

“I’m just saying, if I was her, I would never do or say anything to ruin our relationship,” she shrugs, peering up at the frowning Slytherin through her eyelashes.

“You’re not her though, are you?” Draco snarks, his eyes squinting at her as he shoots the mean remark her way. All the surrounding boys give an “oooh” at the interaction, cackling as they watch Pansy go red in the face before abruptly standing up and leaving the table in a rush. 

Draco did the same and removed himself from the table to dart out of the Great Hall and towards an empty corridor near the courtyard where he liked to hide on an large windowsill. He had enough of his despair and enough of sitting around and doing nothing to win you back, so he got to work on something that would be his last and this time big gesture, to get you to listen.

A few hours had gone by, it was sunny and there was a nice breeze that was perfect for Draco’s plan on winning you back. He especially knew that when the weather was like this, you enjoyed sitting on a bench in the courtyard, the sun caressing your face with warmth as you read a book. 

He walked out of the corridor and towards the courtyard, and just like he knew, he spotted you sitting at your favorite bench angled towards the sun and deeply entranced in whatever book was in your lap. He took a deep breath before nearing you, stopping a few feet away to where you didn’t notice his presence just yet. His hand reached into the pocket of his robes, picking out the small and large variety of origami birds notes he had written and charmed to fly over to you and around you in a pretty and gentle circle. A bouquet of red and y/h colored flowers had appeared in his hands behind his back, all he was waiting for was for you to accept him.

You looked up from your book, eyeing all the paper birds that were fluttering around you and across the way was a frantic looking Draco with his hands hiding something behind his back. You let out a deep exhale, reaching out to grab one of the birds and unfolding the note to read his perfect cursive.

I’m sorry.

Then you grabbed another.

Please forgive me.

Then another.

You are everything to me.

And another.

I promise to change my habits.

And then the final one, the biggest bird of the bunch.

I should have listened to you from the beginning and I’m sorry I haven’t been more sympathetic. I’m also sorry that you had to go through that in your past. You are so beautiful and strong and deserve everything good in this world.

You placed your book to the side and stood up, opening your arms in a hug for Draco before he bolted towards you and enveloped you into his arms with a sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he apologizes again into your hair as he nuzzled into you. He pulled back, handing you the large bouquet of flowers that made you blush as red as the roses that were mixed into the assortment. “I can’t promise you I’ll be perfect, but I swear on everything I love, I’ll try.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Dray,” you chortle. “All I’m asking is for you not to be such a terrorizing little git.”

“Done,” he grins, throwing himself into your arms again as you giggled and ran your hands through his hair.

The two of you plop onto the bench below you, Draco peppering kisses all over your face in glee and gratefulness that you gave him another chance to prove himself. He didn’t even dare remove himself from you when he saw his friends strolling by, snickering and pointing to the nearly snogging couple.

“Malfoy’s gone soft!” Blaise yells across the yard, the rest of the boys laughing in response as usual like the mindless bozo’s that they were. Draco rolled his eyes, throwing them the middle finger before nuzzling himself back into your embrace.

[alpacaparkaseok]

Could you repeat the question?

pairing: Taehyung x reader, oc x Yeonjun (TXT)

premise: a joint interview with your group, BTS, and TXT two months after you met your soulmate.

word count: 2k

[2/2] continuation of Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself

requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post! 

------------------------------------------

“Please don’t tell them.”

“Me? Why would I say anything?”

“You...you have that look.”

Yeonjun whirls around to face Taehyung, who just entered the room. “Do I have a look?”

Taehyung winks at you in greeting, something that nearly makes you swoon and your group members snicker. 

“A look?” He frowns for a moment before giving his dongsaeng a pitiful smile. “Oh yeah, you do. Definitely.” Taehyung smiles at Jiwoo, my band member who is busy sending death glares at her soulmate. “He’s gonna spill it.”

Yeonjun jumps up from his seat at the same time Taehyung settles down beside you, placing his arm on the back of the couch and brushing your hair off to the side. It’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, which of course he notices. 

Oh, how you’d like to wipe that knowing little smirk off his face right now. 

“I can’t believe this! I’m not going to say a thing-”

“Yeonjun, and I’m saying this with love, if you say a single thing about it, I will personally unplug your refrigerator when you least expect it.”

Your attention is pulled away when you feel Taehyung leaning in to whisper something in your ear. “So, do we know what they’re arguing about?”

You can’t help but giggle. “Nope. Jiwoo won’t say anything.”

“Neither will Yeonjun.”

The smitten couple have been teasingly arguing for the entirety of the morning, leaving the rest of us in complete and utter confusion. 

Oh well, I suppose it’ll help make the broadcast a bit more exciting. 

It’s been two months since Jiwoo and I first *ahem* teleported to our soulmates at the MAMA awards. Or rather, since I landed in Taehyung’s lap and Jiwoo was nearly knocked unconscious when Yeonjun was thrown into her at full force. Of course, Jiwoo claims that it was horribly embarrassing, to which I’m always quick to say that she should feel lucky that at least she didn’t end up in a grown man’s lap. For all to see, no less. 

Ari, our other group member, just rolls her eyes and tells us that beggars can’t be choosers. 

Yeah, whatever that means. 

The past two months have been busy, with hardly enough time to spend with my soulmate. Between the busy schedules and BTS and TXT and our own schedule, we’ve had to settle for late-night FaceTimes and the occasional lunch at the Bighit building. I’ve become really good at sneaking in and out of that building in broad daylight - so far I have yet to be discovered. 

Today, however, is an important one. It’s our first official schedule together as soulmates. Naturally, all three groups have come together for the interview/variety show. 

“Alright, time to head on!” A manager shouts into the room, and suddenly there’s a flurry of movement as we all head toward the door. “I need all the soulmates to stick to their own groups, ok? We don’t want to be causing a riot today.”

Right. With a gloomy expression, Taehyung parts from me to head back to his members. Jiwoo and I glue ourselves to Ari’s side, much to her chagrin. “Ready?”

Both you and Jiwoo respond simultaneously. “Nope.”

Ari just sighs, feigning annoyance. Together, the three of you await your cue as one by one, your groups are introduced. 

TXT goes first, the hosts making a big deal out of swooning over Soobin who now has a cult of his own due to his MC abilities. They make a show of handing the microphone over to him, begging him to take it over from there. He politely declines, while the rest of the boys bicker and chat in the background. 

Then your group is called out, and you find yourself walking out before a huge crowd. You didn’t realize that many people could fit in this building, but here they are. And all of them are here for the same reason: to get a look at the soulmate couples that have newly formed. 

And that have been trending on Twitter and Tumblr for two solid months, breaking all kinds of records. 

As BTS is introduced with an almost reverent tone, you understand why you’ve been trending for so long.

It has a lot to do with one of the men walking out right now, smiling at the crowd and waving, graciously bowing his way across the stage. 

Taehyung wears a gray casual suit which has him looking like he just stepped off a photoshoot. Hair perfectly styled and eyes glowing with adoration for the fans that roar and wave, he commands the entire room with a single raise of his eyebrows. 

Your soulmate, ladies and gentlemen. 

Today is the day where you prove to the rest of the world how much of a perfect match you are for this man. The notion is terrifying. 

“Wow!” The host, a jovial man named Donghyun shouts out, exaggerating how amazed he is by the crowd’s reaction to all three groups sharing the same stage. Indeed, it’s a rare sight. “Ok! Should we get started?”

After a few minutes of more introductions, a few cursory questions (he asks Yeonjun what he’s been up to recently and you’re pretty sure Jiwoo manages to telepathically threaten him, because he chooses the most vague answer imaginable), and instructions on how to begin the next activities, you’re off to the races. 

Painting races, that it. 

Donning a frock and eyeing the empty canvas before you, you glare at your opponent across the way. Taehyung, to his credit, refrains from winking at you. He thinks you’re adorable when you’re flustered, but now’s not the time. 

“Taehyung-ssi!”

Taehyung blinks up at Donghyun. “Yes?”

“Are you going to let your soulmate win?”

The game is simple: paint the listed object with as much detail as possible in a sixty second period. The others will have to guess what it is. 

Taehyung pouts his lips a bit, glancing over at you with a glint in his eye. “I’ll have to see, I think.”

Donghyun chuckles into the mic, turning to face you. “What about you? If Taehyung-ssi falls behind, will you help him win?”

You wiggle your eyebrows at your soulmate, heart soaring when he delivers a boxy grin. “Oh, of course not. I came to compete, not hold hands.”

The crowd bursts out laughing, and someone yells out, “I’ll hold his hand for you!”

You all dissolve into a fit of laughter at that, your cheeks blushing madly. “Yeah, thanks for the offer,” you say between giggles. Readying your paint brush, you wait for the signal. 

You’ve been given the word ‘Iceland’, which you figure shouldn’t be too hard. 

What you failed to account for was the fact that you’re perhaps the worst painter you know. What should look like a globe looks like a basketball and what should be a cube of ice instead looks like nothing more than a cardboard box. 

In the end, you’re pretty sure you laugh more than you paint. Your team members, consisting of a mix from both teams, look utterly confused at the end product. Eventually it’s Jin - who happens to be on Taehyung’s team - that accidentally calls out the answer. 

The rest of the games pass by in a blur of laughter and covert glances toward Taehyung. He always manages to find a way to make you laugh, even though he remains on the other side of the stage for the most part. You don’t miss all of the fans that look at him dreamily, and you can only hope that they’re happy with your overall performance today. 

At the end, you all squeeze onto a couple of couches. Donghyun makes a fuss over allowing the soulmates to sit together, and you can’t hide your smile as a beet-red Yeonjun sidles down to the couch to sit beside Jiwoo, placing his hands in his lap and trying not to do anything that will go viral. 

Taehyung sits on your right, crossing his arms in a way that pulls on his suit jacket enough to expose the outline of his biceps. You catch your eyes wandering, snapping your attention back to the front where Donghyun reads some questions off of a card. 

“I believe that this was the first time soulmates have met while performing at MAMA, is that correct? What were your first thoughts when you suddenly found yourselves face to face with your soulmate?”

The four of you that now have all the attention riding on your shoulders look to each other for help. Finally, with a racing heart, you answer first.

“I think the obvious answer is that I was shocked,” you smile as knowing chuckles ripple through the room. “But I was also really grateful, because Taehyung was so kind and understanding. The staff were very professional and helped us quickly. Overall, I really can’t imagine it having happened in any other way.”

There’s a few ooh’s and aww’s that greet your ears, but you look down at your lap as you blush. Taehyung slightly nudges your knee with his own, and in that simple movement you feel the comfort that he’s trying to give you. 

“I’d actually been talking to Jiminie earlier about soulmates,” Taehyung pipes up. 

“Oh, yeah! That’s right!” Jimin says, giving his friend a slap on the shoulder. “What are the odds?”

Taehyung flashes a shy smile. “I told him that I felt like I was ready. It can be strangely lonely sometimes, and there are times when I just felt like I was missing something. Now, all I have to do is pick up my phone and my missing piece is on the other side, ready to talk with me.”

Now people are really swooning, you included. You dare to peek over at your soulmate, heart nearly melting when you see that his shy smile is paired with pink cheeks. You wish that you could snuggle up to him right now, but that would definitely not end well. Instead, you lightly nudge his knee with your own, returning the little slice of comfort he provided you earlier. 

“And you two?” Dongyun asks after wiping fake tears away from his eyes. 

Yeonjun chews on his bottom lip, Jiwoo too lost in thought to notice that he has that look again. 

“I, er...” Yeonjun begins, squirming a little in his seat. “I was...really happy.”

Donghyun urges Yeonjun to continue. “Of course you were! What about finding Jiwoo made you so happy?”

Jiwoo looks up in horror, but it’s too late. Yeonjun has already opened his mouth and begun to speak. 

“I was so happy because the first thing she said to me was that she thought I was so hot.”

Radio silence. 

And then-

“Oh-ho!! Yeonjunnie you’re so dead!” Hueningkai laughs, and soon everyone follows suit. Even Donghyun has to throw his hand over his mouth to keep himself from snorting with laughter. 

Jiwoo looks at Yeonjun, who completely avoids her gaze as he stares unblinking at the floor. Then, quietly enough for nobody to hear except for you who sits beside her, she whispers, “Say goodbye to all the perishable items in your fridge.”

In the chaos that ensues, Taehyung discreetly traces circles against your arm and mumbles, “Why didn’t you say that to me when we first met?”

You smack his shoulder. “I should be asking you the same thing!”

Just before everything calms down again, Taehyung leans over to grab the abandoned canvas on the ground. Taking the still-wet paint and dipping his finger into it, he draws something out on it. Nudging you to get your attention, he flashes the canvas for you to see, hiding it from the cameras. 

It’s hard to keep a neutral expression as you see his handiwork. It’s just six words, but they���re enough to have your entire face flushed a moment later. 

I think you’re hotter than Yeonjun ;)

Stifling a laugh, you roll your eyes. “I hope you know I’m keeping that,” you mumble. Taehyung grins.

“Great. We’ll get it framed.”

A few days later, you do. It hangs in the front room of your apartment, for all to see. And for Jiwoo to loathe, as it serves as a constant reminder of her embarrassing first words to her soulmate.

Oh well. In the words of Ari, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”

masterlist

[sluttyminghao]

Part 1/?

✧ pairing: wen junhui x gender neutral!reader ✧ word count: 2k ✧ genre: smut ✧ warnings in this chapter: camboy!jun, masturbation, masturbating on camera, camboy!minghao makes an appearance ✧notes for this chapter: reader only makes an appearance at the end of the installment, i hope it makes sense as you read it! ✧ a/n: you asked, and i delivered! this is the first installment of going live! a series about camboy jun and his adventures! i hope you all enjoy, and if you would like to be added to a taglist pls inbox me! feedback is appreciated! ✧ synopsis: he’s a shy college boy who is stuck in financial difficulty, and his best friends gives him a suggestion that may or may not be a good idea.

A slight glance at the clock on his nightstand indicated that it was 10:49 pm, and he knew that within a matter of minutes he’d be doing the exact thing he said he would never do. His palms had grown sweaty and he felt his heart rate quicken at the thought, and all he could think to do was wipe his palms on his sweats. He remembers the conversation he had about his thoughts with Minghao vividly, even though it had happened months before his current situation.

“I just don’t see how you can do it, how do you not get embarrassed? Aren’t you being watched by...god knows how many people?” Junhui spoke between mouthfuls of ramen, immense heat rising in his cheeks at the nature of the conversation that had come up when talking about Junhui’s increasing level of financial difficulties. Minghao raised a brow at the older, before erupting into a fit of giggles and making Junhui cock one of his brows in confusion. Did he say something funny?

“Why would I be embarrassed about my livelihood?” Minghao began, wrapping some noodles around his chopsticks expertly and blowing them lightly to cool them down. “I make so much profit off of doing camming and making videos, that I’ve been able to pay my rent and amenities for the next six months, as well as keeping on top of all my art school debts,” he continued, an amused smirk finding its way onto his face at Junhui’s shocked facial features.

“Six months? That’s crazy... I’m basically living paycheck to paycheck at the minute,” he mumbled and let out a small sigh, picking at the small pieces of meat left within his ramen bowl with his chopsticks. “Well, that’s kinda what you get for working at a small and dingy diner run by a bunch of college students,” Minghao quipped while giving him a pointed look, letting his napkin fall to the table to signify he had finished his meal.

Junhui sighed. He knew Minghao was right, 99% of the time he generally was, but this was one thing he really didn’t want to admit to him. “But...would people recognise me? That’s one thing I really don’t want,” Junhui spoke shyly, and Minghao’s face softened towards his elder, before shaking his head slightly. “You can use blurring filters or wear items on your face so people won’t recognise you, that’s what I do, and no one knows who I am to this day.”

He thought a little more about it, and Minghao could practically see the cogs turning in his brain, deciding to offer a piece of advice to his struggling long-time friend. “Hey,” he spoke, gaining Junhui’s attention, “you should really think about it, especially if you need the money. With a face and a body like yours, I’m sure you’ll have thousands of subscribers in no time.”

Well, what did he have to lose? He sure didn’t have any shreds of dignity left, may as well give it a shot.

In all his years of living, he had been very well off financially, but in recent months his rent had become increasingly more expensive and the cost of living had jumped up exponentially. To his dismay, he found himself without a choice, needing the money as soon as possible so he would still have a roof over his head and the bare minimum of food. 

He had been staring at the webpage for the camming website for the past 45 minutes, trying to hype himself up, but he had just become increasingly nervous as the time had passed. Minghao had explained to him countless times that this website was very reputable and a great starting point for beginners going into camming, and he knew that he could trust the words of his younger friend.

But even still, the nerves would not stop pouring over him, almost acting like a cascading effect, flowing down his back like a waterfall and seeping into every crevice of his body.

He sucked in a breath before exhaling shakily and picking up his phone to call Minghao. He knew that if anyone was able to calm his nerves, it would be his long-time friend. He tapped on Minghao’s contact before placing the phone to his ear, listening to the phone ring a few times before he was met with Minghao’s groggy voice.

“Were you sleeping?” Junhui’s voice is quiet as he speaks into the receiver, awaiting his companion’s response even though he was almost sure he knew the answer already. “No, I was out feeding the ducks, of course, I was sleeping,” Minghao sighed sarcastically, and Junhui suddenly felt a pang of guilt for the late-night call to his friend. “What did you need, ‘Hui?” Minghao continued, sleep laced in his voice.

“I’m sorry for waking you up...I’m so nervous...I don’t even know how to start the camming videos…do you have any...pointers, maybe...” Junhui trailed off, and he could hear Minghao hum from the other end of the phone. He remained silent for a few beats, only further amplifying Junhui’s nerves to the point where his leg had begun to bounce incessantly.

“I think you just need to relax a little, maybe have a drink or two to settle your nerves,” he replied smoothly, wanting to end the conversation so that he could get back to sleep. “If you’re really worried, why don’t you just show everything from the neck down when you’re recording?” He continued, waiting for his older friend’s reply.

Junhui was contemplating the options laid out to him and decided to combine both, deciding he didn’t have anything to lose. “Thanks, Hao, I owe you,” he rushed, hanging up and throwing his phone on his desk and standing up to get himself a bottle of alcohol. He assured himself that he was only going to have a few sips to loosen himself up, but he figured that he may need to down the whole bottle by the night’s end.

A few swigs of his precious alcohol later, and he had finally built up the courage to remove his shirt but left his sweats on as a safety measure. Minghao was right, the alcohol definitely loosened him up, and before he had even realised what he was doing, he had pressed the record button and had started his live stream.

He didn’t know what he was doing, not a single clue. His mind was fuzzy and his last shreds of dignity left him the moment his pants were pulled down and thrown haphazardly to the side. The only thought that was now running rampant through his mind was how much he wanted to cum. He wasn’t even focused on the live video anymore, only focused on his hardening cock and the way his hand wrapped around it.

Normally when he got himself off, he would take his time and relish in the sensations, not wanting to rush. In his nervous and alcohol-fueled state, however, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush like he would if he was sober. His hand moved up and down the length of his cock rapidly, small whimpers eliciting from the man’s lips as he pleasured himself.

Junhui could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge the faster he pumped his cock, but he knew he didn’t want to cum just yet. He slowed his hand significantly to a steady pace, almost feather-like touches, and moved his free hand up to flick at his nipple, sighing at the sensation. 

Not that he would ever admit to anyone, but his nipples had always been extra sensitive and even just the slightest feather touch would have him reeling and wanting more.

The whines poured endlessly from his mouth, even as he built up his orgasm for a second time. He kept one hand on his cock, pumping up and down swiftly and gaining speed, while the other pinched at his nipples. It was getting harder for him to hold himself back, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer in the position he was in.

Before he could even think about stopping himself from cumming again, he felt the string snap in his abdomen and felt the hot streaks of white land on his stomach. He gasped at the feeling and let his hand continue to move steadily, letting the white streaks hit his chest. His head had grown fuzzy from the sheer intensity of his orgasm, and he could feel his hips lightly bucking up into his still closed fist.

When he was sure his orgasm had ebbed away, he removed his hand from his softening cock and sighed, leaning back in his computer chair. After a moment of stillness, his eyes widened upon seeing the small red recording dot on his computer, reminding him of the act he had just performed.

He clicked the stop button hurriedly and closed all his tabs before slamming the lid of his laptop shut. He couldn’t believe what he had just done; his mind was whirring with a thousand and one thoughts, his heart was about to leap right out of his chest, and he knew that there was no going back from the acts he had just performed.

He pushed himself out of the chair and headed towards his bathroom, showering in an attempt to get the cum off his body and somehow trying to scrub off the gross feeling he had from his lewd behaviour. It wouldn’t come off that easily, however, so all he could do was face the consequences of his actions and own them as Minghao told him to.

After a hot shower and a whole lot of contemplation later, Junhui knew that he would have to use his laptop again and see the damage that he had caused, so he decided to simply bite the bullet and take a look back at his video and see if anyone had commented or liked it. It didn’t seem likely in his opinion, since it was his first video and he had no subscribers, but there was a small glimmer of hope buried deep within him.

His eyes widened at the results in front of him. He truly could not believe the sight he saw when he clicked back on to his video to check for feedback.

200 new subscribers, 800 stars and 27 comments

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was all a hallucination. How could this be? He only sat in front of his computer for roughly 10 minutes jacking himself off and had garnered a huge response to it. He clicked the refresh button, thinking that it was simply a mistake on the website’s part. Surely he, a newbie to camming, did not just rack up over a thousand notifications from a ten-minute video.

When the page refreshed he saw the same notifications, except for one new comment that had caught his attention. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to look at just one comment and then head to bed, so he let his mouse hover over the little star-shaped notification icon and pressed on it. His eyes moved across the screen quickly, and he couldn’t help but feel the heat rise to his cheeks at the comment he had seen.

angelbaby96: you’ve got such a nice cock, and such pretty noises too. I would love to hear more of them sometime <3

[theepisceswriter]

Can you do a hot scene with Erwin and Zeke x f!reader with daddy kink, both of the men have a *thing* for her bc she’s such a smarty brat/ a tease. They should’ve be pissed at her but she’s way too playful🤑🤫 I leave the rest to your imagination, love your writing <33 anything you wanna add or change feel free to do it 🤍🥺

Bestie....you fr did something with this request right here. Ily for this and I’m so glad you enjoy my writing, I hope you enjoy this little Drabble!

Synopsis: Set in a modern AU, professor!Erwin and his teacher assistant!Zeke both have the hots for one of their students and decide to invite her over for dinner one night so they can all release their shared tension.

TW: Mature things obviously, fembodied!reader (she/her pronouns), face fucking, oral (fem recieving), degradation, daddy kink, teacher/student, threesome, 18+, MINORS DNI! (these are for the drabble underneath the read more)

Word Count: Google docs was trippin so I wasn’t able to get the word count, but just know it’s a 2k+ mini drabble underneath the readmore 

Headcanons

Let me set the scene for you; Erwin is a professor at your college, teaching a small world history evening class and Zeke is his TA basically, acting as a teacher himself sometimes but mostly doing things like helping grade papers, helping students with their work, or working as Erwin’s fulltime assistant. Needless to say, you interact with the two of them on a daily basis quite a lot and it’s no secret to the other students that you’re most definitely their favorite, taking most of their attention away from everyone else. But they could care less, they’re not as passionate about the class or as eager to learn like you; another factor that drew Erwin and Zeke to you. 

You’re a confident, strong book-savvy student who’s always ready to debate and bicker someone, snarky remarks leaving your mouth in an instant, and Zeke and Erwin always end up being the victim of those. Bickers and debates over information lasting the whole class session almost, either you winning and leaving them red in the face or them winning with a smug expression on their features and you storming out the classroom in annoyance. You all meet each other’s energy so well that you can’t help but clash from time to time, but the three of you do get along pretty well. Many times you’ve found yourself lingering after class to talk with them about everything and nothing like you’re all just good friends catching up. Your bond is definitely an interesting one.

It’s after one of these routine after-class talks that they invite you over formally for once, a dinner at Zeke’s house with Erwin and how could you possibly say no to that? A chance to be alone with your hot history teacher and his sexy teacher assistant.

You didn’t expect to be this nervous as you walked down the corridor leading to Zeke’s apartment yet here you were, fingers fidgeting with the rings on your fingers and your toes awkwardly rubbing against each other the closer you got. All the confidence that made your hips swing from left to right as you entered the classroom like you owned the whole school, the usual overtly confident y/n that they were used to was dwindling down into a nervous wreck. But you couldn’t let them see that, let them know the effect that they had on you, so you swallowed those anxious feelings as if they would be digested by your stomach and let a look of smugness take over your features as you made your way up to the door. Your hand ghosted over the cold wood, curling your fingers into a fist ready to knock but before you could even make contact with the door it was swinging open, greeting you with the sight of a smirking Zeke. He wore slacks with a beige plaid pattern going over them, a creme-colored shirt to match the brown of his pants, and an elongated dark brown coat that brought out the lightness of his round glasses perfectly. 

“You look very nice tonight,” You complimented him for once as you made your way inside the apartment, “Finally you don’t look like a caveman for once.” The joke didn’t go over his head at all, him choosing only to acknowledge it with a dry chuckle. “Good evening to you too Ms. /l/n, You look mighty fine yourself.”

It was then that your confidence came rushing back to you as you remembered the outfit that adorned your body. It was a simple silky champagne pink bodycon dress with a corset-like top, but on you, it fit like a supermodel. The dress hugging every curve and dip on your body and showing off a little more cleavage than expected, your nipples even poking out through the thin fabric, but you couldn’t have picked out an outfit more perfect for this night. The constant glances Zeke took unremorsefully at where the dress stopped at the high of your thighs let you know that it was a great choice. Lips curling up into a smile as you thanked him. 

 “Where’s Professor Smith?”

“Just over here in the kitchen, follow me.”

Is this where being a teacher assistant got Zeke? You couldn’t help but admire the decor and set up of his home as he led you through the hallway and living room to the kitchen where Erwin was standing with his back faced to the two of you, broad shoulders contracting and going back to their original form with every shake of the pan in front of him. He was cooking? That’s something you definitely didn’t expect to see, thinking they’d opt-out for takeout for the night, but it just made the night feel more genuine than it already was.

“I thought I had heard you come in, y/n.” Erwin’s rich and smooth voice infiltrated your ears bringing you out of your thoughts. The same smile on your lips from when you thanked Zeke for his compliment earlier. “And please, leave Professor Smith for school. Call me Erwin.” 

“Erwin.” You repeated with a nod, butterflies erupting in your stomach and your cheeks warming up from the wink that followed after his words. “I’m surprised to see you cooking. I was sure you two would have takeout ready on the table when I came. Probably something cheap too like Chili’s.’ You jabbed at them, taking your place at the table while Zeke situated himself against the arch of the opening of the kitchen. Most people would’ve been offended by such a remark, hurt even, but they were so used to your snarkiness that all they could do was chuckle in return.

“Chili’s? No, Mcdonald’s would’ve been more fitting for you.” Zeke messed with you back, warranting your tongue to stick out at him in a childish manner.

“Calm down children,” Erwin joins in on the teasing as he makes his way to the table with three steaks and bowls filled with sides in his other arm, Zeke going over to help him. Dinner wasn’t too eventful, but it was enjoyable. Most of the time wasted away with the three of you talking about various topics the conversation swayed towards like how you usually did. 

The three of you had decided to relocate to the living room after finishing dinner, now washing it down with a glass of wine as you three sat down silently enjoying each other’s company. But silence wasn’t your forte, so it didn’t take long at all for you to move from your position between them on the couch. Both of their eyebrows raised in confusion as they watched you search around the small area looking for whatever it was you were looking for, not knowing what to expect since you were, well, you after all. 

“Found it!” You announced in a sing-song voice as you shimmied your way over the vintage phonograph vinyl player sitting in the middle of Zeke’s living room that must’ve cost him a fortune. And if it didn’t then the extensive rack of vinyl records sitting next to it definitely did. You squatted down so you were face to face with the rack and if you weren’t facing the other direction you would’ve saw the way both of their eyes immediately traveled down to your ass in the squatting position you were in before blue eyes met brown ones, a silent nod signifying confirmation of some sort between the two. 

Any genre or artist you could think of occupied the shelves, your finger skimming over each and every one until you found one that you craved to hear. Soon the soft melodies of the instruments on the smooth jazz record infiltrated the living room, your body contorting and twisting in a sensual way with each beat that hit your ears. The closing of your eyes really showing how into it you were, arms wrapping around your own body like the two men weren’t watching from not too far away as you put on a show like you were in the comfort of your own room. What a tease, the two men thought to themselves, shifting and manspreading to try and soothe the uncomfortable ache between your legs that you were causing. You knew exactly what you were doing because this wasn’t the first time at all that you had done it. Plenty of times you showed up to class with a shirt on that revealed just a little too much or a skirt that practically put your whole lower body on display, legs spreading purposefully whenever you saw one of their eyes travel to the underside of your opened desk. You did everything in your power to make them succumb to their--no, your desires but it wasn’t until now that they let themselves be selfish.

Zeke was the first one to move from his position on the couch to make his way over to you, calloused hands grabbing at your sides and pulling you closer to his torso as he began to sway along with you, hands moving from your hips and letting them explore the surrounding skin before cheekily slapping your ass and earning a small yelp out of you. Erwin simply watched from the couch, for the time being, still sipping on his wine waiting on his opportunity to slip himself in. 

“I figured this would happen eventually,” Zeke finally spoke up, “I just imagined something a lot less sensual; you bent over the desk in the classroom or something.” 

Before you could counter his words with a sassy remark he moved his lips against yours, gently letting them ghost over yours for a second or two and even going as far as teasing you by rubbing them against yours before he finally indulged you with a kiss. The taste of wine and savoriness from dinner still lingering on both of your tongues as you deepened the kiss. Swirling your tongue around in a way that had precum dripping from the tip of his cock as he thought about how good it might feel if it was there instead, slurping the opaque liquid up. As much as you wanted to keep kissing him and let your tongues explore each other he decided that it was time to pull away, trailing kisses from the corner of your mouth to your neck where he gently let his teeth graze over the sensitive flesh, warranting a gentle moan from you.

It was like music to his ears and immediately he decided that he wanted to pull more from your plush lips, letting his kisses trail farther down until his lips were over one of your nipples protruding from the silk fabric, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub at a painstakingly slow pace that made you want to shove him away from you completely for denying you pleasure.

“No bra on? What a lewd thing to do, but I wouldn’t expect anything like from someone like you.” He murmured against the fabric.

“Someone like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” You questioned, still a bite to your tone like earlier.

“A slut.” Erwin answered for him and it wasn’t until now that you noticed his presence from behind you, chiseled chest pressed up against your back and his breath fanning across your neck distracting you from the hand he brought up to rest at the nape at it. His other hand going down to scrunch your dress up around your waist. Revealing your lacy underwear to their doting eyes and especially to Zeke who was now dropping down to his knees in front of you. “She’s soaking fucking wet. Her panties are dripping with wetness.” 

“You think we didn’t notice all your advances? All the times you traded your integrity just to get our attention like the bad girl you are, huh?” Erwin’s hand moved from the nape of your neck to the front of it, gently squeezing it with his hand and forcing you to look up at him. A chastising look on his features as he stared down at you, making you feel so little and small compared to his towering structure.

You had no words to respond to him with, too caught up in a daze in your head thinking that this couldn’t be true, that this was a dream you were going to wake up from in a couple of minutes. But it was the warmth of Zeke’s tongue prodding at your clit that brought you back to your senses, eyes widening in shock as you looked up at your professor. This was really happening.

“Hm, looks like the brat doesn’t have anything else to say.”

“I think I like her better like this anyway.” The blonde between your legs mumbles, sending a vibrational tingle up your spine and leaving your legs wobbling. He was so messy with it, tongue devouring you like you were the 2nd course on the menu tonight. You diverted your eyes down to him for a second, his staring right back up at you as he feverously worked his tongue against you. Your juices mixed with his saliva already wetting your thighs up along with his beard.

“Oh god, that f-feels so good.” You let out in a choked moan, knees daring to buckle on you and make you fall to the floor, but Erwin’s death grip around your torso stopped such from happening. Which you were also grateful, but that also meant you weren’t able to buck your hips up into Zeke’s face or swivel them the way you wanted to; taking away any sense of control you thought you had. It wasn’t too long after that you were releasing all over his beard, wetting it up as your insides clenched around nothing, desperately wanting one of their cocks to stuff you up and satisfy that craving. 

Even after your orgasm, he didn’t stop. The pace of his tongue showed no sign of stopping and just to add to the sweet torture you felt two slender fingers entering your hole, a loud moan emitting from your lips in response. “I can’t take it. Too much.” You let out in a ragged breath.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can give us one more. You can take it. You don’t have any choice matter of fact, you’re going to give us as many as we want from you. Maybe if you weren’t so bratty things would be different.” Mouth too occupied on you, all Zeke could do was hum against you in agreeance. 

“Erwin--” 

“Aht, it’s daddy or professor to you from here on out.” Oh

“Daddy,” You quickly corrected yourself with a whine, “I can’t take it anymore. M’too sensitive. I need more. I w-want you inside of me.” Luckily for you, Zeke’s tongue was getting tired from being on you and he was quick to get off of his knees at your request to Erwin. “Look at the begging slut now. You weren’t like that when you first came. Guess you really are just all bark and no bite.” He teased you, fingers going to your nipples and pinching at them. You couldn’t even reply if you wanted to because his lips were on you like earlier forcing you to taste yourself on your tongue. And to your surprise Erwin joined in as well, leaning over from behind you and inserting himself to make a 3-way kiss that had all your tongues entangled with one another’s; everyone getting a taste of you.

“Zeke go sit on the couch and let y/n return the favor.” The older man spoke up after pulling away. Everyone moving away from such close proximity of each other so you could all go to your positions over on the couch. By the time you turned around to head in that direction Zeke was already sitting on the couch with his cock free and sprung up against his stomach, twitching in your direction as he awaited your arrival. Erwin on the other hand was nowhere to be found, completely gone from your view, but you didn’t let that stop you from making your way over to the bearded mand; dropping on your knees as soon as you were in front of him. 

Your hands move to engulf his thick cock with your hands, jerking it a few times and spreading around the pre-cum that cumulated on his tip before you began to lower your head. You were getting ready to bring his tip past your lips when the feeling of two broad hands gripping the crevice between your stomach and hips stopped you abruptly, presumably Erwin behind you getting ready to do something. You went to look behind you to confirm you suspicion only to be stopped by Zeke’s hand roughly grabbing at your chin forcing you to look up at him again. 

“Nobody told you to stop or look behind you. Get back to work.” It was pathetic how much they were able to break you down in such a small amount of time because without a second thought you did exactly what he told you to do, slipping his cock past your lips and gently sucking on it while simultaneously running your tongue over the flushed tip. “And here I was thinking your mouth was only good for arguing.” He groaned out, earning a chuckle from the other man behind you. 

Without the slightest bit of warning, Erwin is sliding his cock into you from behind, the mixture of Zeke’s saliva and your cum acting as a natural lubricant; allowing him to slip in and out of you as he pleased at a pace that made it so you were gagging on cock without hardly moving your head. Your hips also smacking against your professor’s without even moving them. It was like you were their personal sex toy and no longer one of their students, but this wasn’t even the beginning of it. They were nowhere near done with you. 

[party-gilmore]

...well, I managed to get to literally JUST BARELY before the actual smut starts, so please enjoy this unbetaed 2k word teaser prologue of "demi/grayace Parker doesn't feel like she's Enough for Eliot without Hardison around, so he sets the record straight."

Set during The Hurricane Job, because who gives a damn if the ep is even OUT yet, am i right? XD

“Room 236.”

“What was that?” Eliot hums. His voice is muffled beneath the heavy, sopping weight of his jacket as he tugs the damn thing over his head. His shirt peels off right along with it, so he just shucks the whole shebang in the generic direction of his luggage. He’ll have plenty of time to see to it properly tomorrow - the storm will have them trapped at least another day. With a groan, he stretches out his bad shoulder. It’s not quite dislocated again, but it’s not quite right either. Two nimble hands sneak up from behind and flit their way over the shoulder blade, one bracing against the wet neck of his white tank top while the other presses swift and hard on the joint - and ‘pop’ goes the weasel.

Eliot flashes Parker a pained but soft smile through the old dresser mirror, but it falters when he catches her eyes peeking over his shoulder. There’s a look in them he isn’t familiar with, but doesn’t think he likes.

“Park-” he starts to turn around, but she manhandles him back away from her and shoves her hand into the back pocket of his jeans. No small feat tonight, they way the rain has soaked and damn near suction cupped them to his ass. “H-hey, woah, alright there darlin’, slow it down a bit,’ he chuckles, reaching back to feel for her, but she’s already hopping back and flashing a small, colorful rectangle at him.

“Room 236,” she repeats, flipping it around her fingers like a coin. Eliot frowns. They’re in room 225, just down the hall. They’d found what the crooked cops were after with time to spare, so there was nowhere left to search. Why then, would he still have a room key for-

Oh. He reaches back and pats the offending rear pocket, flushing as he remembers Marshall Shipp’s parting flirtatious wink and accompanying gentle smack on the ass as they’d parted ways a half hour ago. He hasn’t exactly been… discouraging her interest. It's felt good that women are still interested in him even as he’s put a few more miles on, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention - especially from someone as 'his type' as Maria.

Well, what used to be his type, at least.

He shoots a sheepish, apologetic grin at Parker. Maria’s ‘interest’ was quickly becoming ‘intent,’ and now Eliot needed to find a way to nip that in the bud sooner rather than later.

“Damn, I should’ve noticed the reverse lift,” Eliot clears his throat, toying with the edge of the pocket absentmindedly. “She must’ve slipped it to me after we completed the radio broadcast. I was uh, distracted by our success I guess.”

“Bet that’s not all she’d like to slip you,” Parker’s voice takes on a bit more of a playful tone for a moment. Cheeky, teasing. It feels like solid ground.

“Hey now,” Eliot teases back, starting to undo his belt, slow and deliberate, as he begins toeing out of his boots. “I can’t help that I still ‘got it,’ darlin’. I can think of a couple folks I know offhand that might like to, uh… 'slip me a little something' right now, 'specially since I'm properly alone with one of 'em for the first time since-” The only problem is, he forgot how damn difficult these boots are to get off on a good day, let alone when soaked through with salt water. Swearing under his breath, he abandons his attempt at being suave to sit at the end of the bed and fumble with the ties. He should know better than try to look cool for either of his partners nowadays. It never works out quite right, and he’s starting to get to the age where he doesn’t even see the use of that kind of posturing anymore himself. They’ve seen him at his worst already - mentally, physically, emotionally - so what would be the point, really? On top of that, he may make a fuss about his ‘cool points’ in front of Breanna, but he knows Hardison’s sneaky ‘dorkification’ process he's been slowly contaminating Eliot with over the last decade is almost complete. He's still drawing the line at DnD, but he doubts that'll last much-

“...or, if you wanted, you could go let her slip it to you.”

Eliot is too caught up in his own head to really register the suggestion at first. He's busy ruminating on how differently his younger self would be handling this whole situation - all smooth moves and hot edges, shucking off clothing with a kind of casual grace.

‘Yeah, those days have long passed,’ he thinks, hunched over and fighting the waterlogged leather of his boots with fumbling, aching fingers. He gets the first one yanked off his foot less than gracefully, wincing at his ankle’s unsubtle protest, before what Parker said finally processes.

Slowly, he sets his singular boot the side and shifts enough to face her. Parker’s tone didn’t hold any bitterness or bite, just nervousness and a bit of resignation. She isn’t looking at him, but out the window, arms wrapped tight around her midsection in a way he hasn’t seen her do in a while. She bounces restlessly on her heels. There’s a clear energy inside her looking to get out. The thunder rumbles lowly through the suddenly silent room, murmuring a warning through the curling reverberation in Eliot’s gut.

He starts out gentle. Easy.

“...now why would I wanna go an’ do somethin’ like that?” Sometimes it’s easiest to bring things to Parker head on, and she’ll respond in her usual stark, frank manner. Just lay it all right out in the open to be picked apart. This isn’t one of those times. Eliot can read that much in every restless tap, every rapid twitch of her eyes to some place else in the room, any place that isn’t him.

“She’s your type, isn’t she?” Parker’s voice is a higher register than it should be, but not quite into her panicking zone yet. That’s a start. “She’s badass, sexy… passionate.”

Eliot notices her leaning heavy on that last word, and frowns.

“So are you, Parker.”

“Not in the same way!” She turns a bit, still looking outside, but her arms unwrap from herself to gesture between them. “Not the same way you and Hardison are!”

It’s quiet for another beat. The white noise of the hissing rain against the window settles into the room with a steady, thrumming tension. Eliot doesn’t jump to demanding clarification like he might’ve done a decade ago, doesn’t snap and tell her to stop beating around the bush. He’s learned that Parker tucks away all the information he needs to understand in every phrase, no matter how inane or incongruent it may seem. So Eliot holds his tongue and chews on the words for a while.

“Me and Hardison, huh?” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and rubs his jaw in a performance of pensiveness. The movement draws Parker's attention and she finally looks over to him, following the back and forth of his fingers. He presses on, carefully. “Thought we were talkin’ bout me and the marshall. What’s Alec got to do with this?”

“Because he isn’t here!” Parker breaks, not enough to falter or crumble but enough to say what's on her mind before she can overthink it. "He isn't here and it's different! I can feel it! I'm not-" she fumbles her words for a minute, just waving between them again. "-all passionate about the whole sex thing like he is!"

There's that word again. Eliot knows where to go from here, at least. It's all about that word. He stands up, albeit a little awkwardly with one foot still in an inch high boot.

"Sure it's fun and I like it sometimes, but not like you two do! Alec balanced me out, could give you what you needed! I'm not… by myself, I'm not enough for… for y-..." Parker cuts herself before she can grow any more manic, bunching her face up and looking away again like she does when trying to stave off any waterworks before they can start.

Eliot can see her closing up again as her words fail her, but that's alright. What needed to get out made it out. He can take it from here. He hobbles over in his awkward, single-socked gait until he's close enough to take her shoulders in hand, but he doesn't pull her in for the hug. Not yet.

"Now I want you to listen to me, and listen good." Eliot makes sure his tone is firm, but gentle. Parker responds the way he'd hoped - still not looking, tilting her head down, but leaning toward him. Into his space. Receptive, and ready to hear him. "Yeah, it feels different. That's cause you and me? Are different from me and Alec. We're always gonna be. 'That makes us, us,' remember? Just like that's different from you and Alec. It's all part of 'us,' yeah, but it's… we got our own thing, Parker. And sure, we might like it best when it's all three of us, just because we love him so, so much, yeah?"

He lifts one hand from her shoulder and tucks a bit of hair back behind her ear, giving her a chance to respond if she wants. Parker murmurs a quiet "yeah," and steps in a little closer. Eliot tugs her in the rest of the way now, assured that she's open to the touch. She pillows her chin on the shoulder she fixed, and Eliot lays a light kiss to the outside of her ear before continuing in a lower voice.

"So… we miss him, when he's not here, and we don't have the 'all three of us' thing right now. That doesn't make our thing, the you and me thing, any less good. It doesn't- Parker, you're so much more than just enough for me. You're who I need... especially when we don't have Hardison. Don't ever doubt that."

"I'll try," Parker turns her head and mutters it into the crook of Eliot's neck, and he loves her all the more for it. It's better than any empty promise of 'I won't,' because he knows the honesty of it. Knows it's not just an empty platitude of 'I'll do it,' but the vulnerable admission of 'I want to, but don't know if I can.'

"That's all I ask, darlin'."

Because it is. That's all Eliot ever asks of her. To try. Never demands that she change, never insists she should be thinking of herself differently or more kindly than she does. Just that she tries to.

"Now. About this whole 'passion' thing," Eliot sighs, pulling back so he can do that thing he does to Hardison that Parker loves to watch him squirm under, but likes it a lot less when it's turned on her. That thing where he ducks his neck and tilts his head and looks up at her through his hair with that serious, intimate look that makes her want to run because he for sure can see all of her secrets like this but also want to sink deep into that comforting gaze and never leave it. "I don't know where you got this idea that you're not passionate from, but-"

"Yeah, but it's not-!"

"The same?" Eliot cuts off her half-hearted attempt at argument. "Course it's not the 'same' as us, Parker! You aren't us. So, you… you don't lose yourself in it the same way me and Hardison do, okay? Him and me, how we get high off each other, the way we act... so you don't do that. That's fine! That’s only one type of passion, darlin'. You can't tell me,” he lets his hands skim down Parker’s arms until they meet her own palms. “That the way you focus so damn hard on taking us apart - taking me apart…”

Eliot brings Parker’s hands to his hips, and her fingers start to fidget with the hem of his shirt. Anchoring herself with the ribbed texture of the tank. Starting to explore up his stomach the way Eliot knows that Parker knows he likes. She’d ferreted that one out of him ages before they’d even thought up this whole ‘you and we makes three’ train. He lets his voice go a little breathy, a little raspy, makes sure she notices how she's affecting him. “-the way you always know exactly how to do it, piece by piece, single-mindedly pulling me apart like a damn puzzle, Park… you can’t tell me that ain’t some kind of passion.”

“Yeah, but that’s just the same way I steal stuff,” Parker giggles a little, the familiar flutter of Eliot’s sides under her deft fingers grounding her and soothing some of the unease. He’s right about this. How she knows what to do with him. How good she is at it. But that’s not anything special, it’s just-

“Exactly, Parker,” Eliot is trying to walk them back toward the bed, but it’s not really working out well. Between his having only the one boot on and Parker actively seeking out the ticklish bits of his belly that make his knees go all wobbly when she scrapes her nails down them, it’s comical enough to startle another giggle out of her. Or it’s a sob. Or it’s a hiccup. Or it’s some weird combination of all three, she isn’t really sure, but it doesn't seem to really matter either. The sound is whatever it was, just like she is whatever she is.

“It's just like that. Just like how you plan your next score. And that’s your Thing. Like me and food, Hardison and his nerdery... Do you realize how that makes me feel? Knowing you treat me like a heist? Like the thing that you let define you?”

“Yeah but that’s not a sex thing, it’s just a me thing.”

“It doesn’t matter that it’s not a sex thing, Parker, it’s your passion. Your Thing. Yours.” Eliot finally makes it back to the edge of the bed and drops, pulling Parker into his lap. He guides her wandering hands to his chest so she can feel the rumble in his voice as he growls.

“Darlin’, you treat me like damn masterpiece. Like I’m standing smack under a spotlight in the middle of the Louvre, and the only thing in the world that matters to you is how you’re gonna pick through my security piece by piece until all that’s left under your hands is a canvas stretched tight as it’ll go and a picture meant only for you and the people you choose to see it."

Parker’s nails scrape against the skin of Eliot’s collarbone as her fingers instinctively curl in, wanting to grip take steal hold climb, and he barely restrains himself from throwing his head back in a moan. He needs to make sure Parker’s in the right place first, before he gives himself over to his own wants.

“Wow,” she whispers, damn near reverent now as she looks down at him. There’s a dawning in her eyes that tells Eliot they’re alright. That they’re gonna be good. That it’s okay to pull her tighter and ask her to go ahead and steal him again tonight, since he knows her rigging is secure.

"I can't imagine anything more passionate than that."

“Uh-huh, ‘wow' is right,” he laughs breathlessly, and reaches up to take hold of her chin. It’s a light grip, barely any pressure where he between his thumb resting on the front and the rest of his fingers curling around under her jaw, but she lets Eliot guide her down until their lips touch. Not kissing, yet, just touching. His mouth moves against hers as he speaks, tongue briefly darting out to wet two pairs of parched lips. “-so tell me, why the fuck would I want to go to anyone else?”

“Maybe if you got some bad advice,” Parker murmurs, voice strong and confident again for the first time since they wrapped up the con. “From someone who didn’t realize she made you feel that way?”

“Hmmn, that could make sense,” Eliot hums back, resisting the urge to roll up against her in wet jeans that would only serve to chafe rather than provide any of the friction that having Parker in his lap always makes him crave. “If someone could help me get this damn boot off, maybe I could get to work making sure she’ll never forget it?”

[alienaiver]

Half the Battle, pt. 1

Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

find part two here!

warnings: slight angst about childhood/parents fighting/divorce, one (1) bottle of wine is opened, someone is betrayed in Mario Party, NOT beta-read! apologize for any mistakes! (lmk if there’s any warnings i missed!)

wordcount: 5.5k

content: soulmate AU, mild angst, fluff, post-timeskip but slight canon divergence (i haven’t read the manga yet so this is loosely based off of their canon timeskip lives), gender neutral reader, reader is a video editor, reader is bad at eye contact but the details as to why are vague/up for interpretation!

notes: this was made for @gg9183 ​ ‘s wonderful birthday event, a soulmate collab! (go read the other wonderful works!) happy birthday once again, gray!! this was meant to be a 2k one shot but.... plans and inspiration changes sometimes, right? 🥺 so this ended up as a 5k part ONE lmfao i hope thats alright w u!!! part2 will be up asap, i promise!! i hope you enjoy this!!!! 

—————————

Not meeting his soulmate was fine, Kuroo often found himself thinking. The odds of finding your soulmate’s way too low to be realistic anyways, he supported the thought. It’s illogical to spend so much time fretting about it, he finally added for good measure.

Soulmates were a natural part of life, always had been. But with the big wide world filled with over seven billion people, meeting yours wasn’t completely unheard of. But given the powers of soulmates even existing, it wasn’t unrealistic to also believe that some kind of fate would pull you towards each other throughout your lives so that you would meet each other. Kuroo however, prided himself in not caring about soulmates. His life was rich enough. People explaining their feelings about “something being missing until they finally meet them” was incomprehensible to him.

Kuroo had lived for 29 years without being able to see color. And you know what? His life was damn well fulfilling enough. He had a beautiful apartment, an economy that flourished, an adorable cat named Cucumber and good people around him. What would he really need a soulmate for? He could ignore his friends comments on how wonderful the world was in color, if only he would just start looking for his soulmate, how much meaning it gave life. Just because the people in his closest circle had all magically met theirs – not to mention how many of them had already met in Goddamn high school, Kuroo scoffed and was always able to move on.

Even though a lot of people actively made eye contact with everyone they met, even people on the street, to make sure they would meet their soulmate, Kuroo kept his eyes down. He wasn’t insecure, come on, he was perfectly happy! He just didn’t need to be late for a meeting because he got eye contact with some stranger, you know?

His life was in perfect balance as is.. Until yesterday, of course. It had turned out there was mold in his apartment complex so they had to evict it for a month while a crew would go through everything to remove it. He didn’t want to go to his mother’s place, that was too far from his work, but he wasn’t in the mood for a hotel, that was way too expensive, so he turned to his best friend of many years with the biggest set of puppy eyes he could muster and the prospect of making every dinner while he lived there.

“Fine… but don’t get in the way,” was all Kenma had to say.

And so Kuroo spent his last weekend in his own apartment packing things down to make it accessible to the cleaning crew. Cucumber hated other cats with a passion so he couldn’t bring him to Kenma’s, where three cats already happily lived, so his mother would pick him up tomorrow afternoon.

__

He sat on his couch, scrolling his phone mindlessly with Cucumber on his lap who had been stressed with all the packing down, sensing something was up. He was being extra cuddly towards Kuroo who, honestly? Didn’t mind at all. He loved when Cucumber was in mood for cuddles, though it wasn’t very often. He had been told his cat was orange and while he didn’t have a measure for what that color actually looked like, he was happy with his gray cat.

His mother was supposed to arrive any minute now, so he should have gotten up and put the cat in his carrier but it was easier to get him in it if you had two pair of hands. He scrolled through Instagram, reaching a photo put up by Tsukishima of his soulmate, the light-haired manager of their high school volleyball club, with a tooth-eating grin on her face and proudly showing off a ring on her finger, the caption said, This smile makes me wanna brag. Kuroo could physically hear the provocative tone of his voice, knowing he was one of the first in his circle of friends to actually plan a wedding. Kuroo clicked his tongue with a smile on his face and double-tapped to like the picture.

He didn’t know if it was the combination of that post and the fact that his mother was on her way but memories of his parent’s wedding flooded his mind. For a lot of people, weddings felt obsolete in the face of the whole “you already got your soulmate and you know this” thing, so a lot of couples were happy not getting married but just being together. But there was also the benefits of marriage in the practical sense, so some people did anyways, some hosting parties, some not. His parents weren’t married when he came to, but after he turned five they decided to do it so he would be protected by both of them, in case of any emergency.

It had been a small wedding, only the closest family and friends but Kuroo was vivid, so excited about being part of that whole romantic ordeal, even helping his mom find a dress and everything. He had been a huge and important part of the wedding – if he did say so himself. Everyone had been glowing at the day, the food was delicious, there was laughter, song and cheers and everyone had brought so many presents – even some for little Tetsurou, who had been very excited about his new train tracks.

But when Kuroo was seven years old, it wasn’t as romantic anymore. His parents were fighting a lot, he wasn’t entirely sure why or about what because they would never tell him about it, no matter how much he asked. When he tried to listen in, the words he heard didn’t explain anything to him because even though they were yelling at each other, the important words were always whispered, as if they knew Kuroo was listening in.

When he was eight his mom had come into his room, hugged him and with tears in her eyes and said that they were going to move away.

“Where are we going?” he asked simply, no emotion to be read on his little face. He was exhausted from his parents being this way – they were soulmates, right? Why did they fight like that?

“To Tokyo, just you and me, my love.”

That’s when he met Kenma. He had been very closed-off and shy back when they met, he reminisced. He had been a regular kid when he was younger but the way his parents split up – his soulmate parents – had closed him off pretty bad, so it was a miracle he met Kenma and started opening up again.

Kuroo smiled to himself bitterly before scratching Cucumber’s ear. He supposed this was also why he wasn’t interested in his soulmate. So many people had romanticized the whole soulmate ideal so a lot of people forgot that relationships still took work, took effort and just because they were made for each other, didn’t necessarily guarantee that they would stay together. His mom and dad didn’t officially talk anymore, but when he asked his mom as a child whether or not she still saw color, she said that she did. He also found long letters in her bedroom when he was nine, letters from his dad, so he supposed they still talked together, though Kuroo wasn’t let in on it – nor was he particularly interested. And he definitely we wasn’t interested in ending up in a relationship with someone who would end up not wanting to put in the effort for the relationship to flourish.

After Cucumber had been picked up by his mom it was time to leave for Kenma’s place. He carried the last boxes of valuables down to his basement and locked them in before trekking down to the subway with his suitcase and sports bag.

_____

You were late for work, so you scrambled to pack your things. It was Wednesday afternoon and you were supposed to meet in at 3PM, because that was around the time that Kodzuken had planned to finish his recording, he told you yesterday. You were a video editor and had met Kenma through your old part-time job in his favorite convenience store quite a few years back, back when he had first bought his house when he was 24. You remembered talking to him about video games in the store since you also played some, and after a good while of polite customer service and talk about new games, you had started hanging out outside of work as well. When you had then told him you were actually a freelance video editor but just didn’t get many jobs, he had almost instantly hired you to do his YouTube videos for him and general editing and set-ups of his streams. I know video games, not recording equipment, he had told you so many years ago.

Your original thought had been wary, because working for a friend might get messy but Kenma cared a lot about keeping it professional when you were on the clock, which you appreciated very much. In his house, down by his game room, there was a room next door with screens and all the best editing software just for you to play with. Your pay was higher than average for such a “simple” but regular gig but when prompted about it, he simply shrugged and told you it wasn’t up for negotiation and no one was being treated unfair – and who were you to go against such a good pay for a job that you loved doing and wanted to do full-time? With Kenma being a famous streamer and gamer, he often made lots of different videos for various sites so your job hours resembled a nine to five job, easy, even if the hours were off from the more conventional jobs and you usually came in later in the day and sometimes finished off late in the evening – some of his videos had a time limit for a release date of a game, so there was also days where you were extremely busy and scrambling to get the video done right for a release of a game.

As you closed your bag and ran out the door towards the subway, you checked your phone for any updates. If he’d finished early, he would’ve texted you about it, so you put your phone in your pocket and hurried towards his house.

When you arrived you immediately rang the doorbell before catching your breath, you were used to Kenma spending a few minutes before reaching the door and opening it, so when the door opened almost instantly you took a step back before looking up. The one opening the door was taller than Kenma and in a loose dress shirt that was unbuttoned at the top - that’s all you saw before your eyes darted down to your feet.

“...Hi! I’m uh… Where’s Kenma?” was all you got out while fidgeting with your purse strap, it certainly wasn’t his boyfriend Hinata opening the door today.

“Oh, hey! You must be his video editor, right? He told me about you!” The man said, pointing to himself with his thumb,

“I’m Kuroo Tetsurou! Kenma’s childhood friend! Sorry to intrude, I’ll be living here for the next month, I promise not to get in your way!” As he finished his introduction, he moved aside so that you could enter. As you took off your shoes you heard Kenma’s feet shuffling towards you, “oh hey, welcome, you’re early,” Kenma said with his usual deadpan expression but you could clearly hear the teasing in his voice.

“At least I’m here now, right?” You smiled back, instantly relaxing at the sight of your boss and friend. You turned to Kuroo again, bowed and introduced yourself before taking off your coat and putting it on a hanger, while Kenma and the guy named Kuroo seemed to bicker a bit about whether or not Kuroo should answer the door while he lived there.

“I’ll go set it up, have you transferred the video files to the hard disk?” you asked Kenma as you moved towards ‘your’ office, sending Kuroo a polite smile while keeping your eyes on his neck.

Eye contact was hard for you, it always made you extremely uncomfortable and you didn’t really have any before you felt comfortable with the person. Your mother had often scolded you, saying you’d never find your soulmate at this rate, which you always acknowledged with a hum or a simple yes without starting a discussion.

You honestly weren’t sure whether or not you cared for a soulmate. Your biggest argument to wanting to find one was so that you could see colors, because it’d help your career. Kenma already had his soulmate, so he was the one deciding the color scheme for his videos and helped with the color-related editing, which worked fine as of now, but you would probably appreciate to be able to do it yourself. You had also spent some years coming to terms with your struggles with eye contact and accept that this was just how you functioned. If you missed your soulmate in a random supermarket thanks to it one day, well, you’d be none the wiser, so you felt sure you’d survive without one, but you also couldn’t deny that the sound of a soulmate sounded really nice and comforting. That someone out there existed to fit you, that you were born to love someone who was also meant to love you. You were sure that finding your soulmate wasn’t a dance on roses, it was sure to still be hard, frustrating and maybe even painful sometimes, but you also couldn’t just have all the good, there was a balance that was sure to exist within soulmates as well.

After hours of going through the raw footage from his video game play and slowly editing while watching it, you popped your shoulders and stretched your arms for a moment, yawning as you did so. Your hours were always a bit intense, but that couldn’t be helped when you had six hours of raw footage to work with. Looking at the clock you saw that it was 5.30PM which meant that soon Kenma would wake up from his pseudo-sleep (which was more like a nap in your opinion) to look at your process and ask what you wanted for dinner.

Soon after a soft knock was heard followed by the door opening slowly, Kenma standing in sweats and a hoodie with bags under his eyes, “do you like hotpot?” he asked, and you smiled at him, “sure, are you cooking tonight?” he yawned while he shook his head, “Kuroo is. He insists on a ‘fulfilling meal’, whatever that means.”

You giggled before beckoning Kenma in to see some of what you’ve done so far and making minor adjustments along the way. “Now, something smells delicious and I’m thirsty,” you stated after the two of you had talked a bit about the rest of the video’s plans. As you went towards the kitchen you could hear the sound of of a nameless tune being hummed, pans sizzling from something being cooked and kitchen utensils being used.

Inside, the table was already set with plates and prepared ingredients lying ready for the pot that Kuroo was just about to put on the table. It seemed he had made an endless supply of different side dishes and really put in a lot of work for it, so you looked really forward to eating it and it smelled delicious. You grabbed a glass from the set table and went to the sink to get some water and just as your hand reached it, Kuroo had extended his hand as well to the sink and you accidentally touched.

You both recoiled as if you had been burned and you couldn’t stop the gasp that accidentally left your lips. A feeling was rushing through your body you hadn’t experienced before and you immediately apologized to Kuroo and went back to the table, foregoing the water. You didn’t notice how Kuroo was frozen in place from when he touched you before Kenma called out to him and he immediately started moving again.

You ended up eating shortly after, Kuroo serving the food and talking animatedly about him and Kenma’s childhood, making you laugh quite a bit at their (or more, Kuroo’s) antics and their volleyball days. Kuroo was the type of person to make you relax in his presence and have fun which you didn’t even notice until you got home later that evening and really thought about what a great time you had had. You found yourself surprised by how easily you clicked with Kuroo, a total stranger. It must be his charm, you thought to yourself before going through your night routine. You had to come back tomorrow and finish work, after all. You estimated the video would take you a few more days to finish but that would end up fitting well with the weekend coming, so as you went to bed you felt yourself more relaxed than you had in a while.

_____

“What are they like?”

It was Friday and it seemed you had finished Kenma’s video and therefor you weren’t here for dinner – for the first time in a few days, which did let down Kuroo just a tiny bit. He had talked a lot with you during dinner preparations when you came out from the office and during dinner as well and while you did answer all his questions (which, he admitted, there were quite a few of them) and follow up with your own for him, it still felt… off… talking to you – and Kuroo didn’t like not knowing why. “What do you mean?” Kenma asked, taking another bite into his mouth.

Kenma swallowed a piece of meat before looking up at Kuroo who was stabbing his plate with his fork in what seemed like a useless purpose. He knew he was being a little weird but meeting you was weird, even though he had no reason to explain why.

“I mean, is this how they usually act?” He didn’t even know what that question meant or why he was even asking it, nothing made sense! But he had a desperate feeling that he needed to get to know you – he was afraid of what that implied and what suspicions he needed to hold onto, but he was sure it was his gut telling him you were dangerous for Kenma to be around – that had to be it! Kenma was his best friend, his childhood friend, it had to be a gut feeling meant to protect him!

“Who knows, they’re being more polite than usual, I think. But that makes sense,” Kenma replied calmly before adding, “I mean you are a stranger who’s really intent on being social with them over our dinners, they were a bit shy as well when I met them,”

Kuroo nodded and finally took a bite of his own food. He didn’t notice Kenma’s raised eyebrows or the questioning look that was sent his way, so Kenma decided to let the subject rest.

Not seeing you today felt weird to him too and he couldn’t help the irritation building up inside him – you had just met a few days ago and only in the evenings when he was done with work and ready to make dinner – and yet, the thought of you kept invading his mind. He had gotten through work today thinking you were going to be there for dinner so when he came home and found out you wouldn’t be there, the first seed of irritation had been planted – why was he suddenly looking so much forward to seeing you? Had it been like this yesterday too? Why was it suddenly important that you weren’t there? He ended up sitting in front of the laptop in the guest room for the rest of the evening, the document left open and completely untouched.

Kuroo, however, didn’t let the subject rest in his head for the rest of that evening. Hinata was in town, having time off after a big game yesterday so Kuroo was left to his own devices – which really wasn’t a problem considering he had to make the paperwork for a promotional deal for a meeting Monday morning that he had procrastinated making – which wasn’t like him at all, he usually never pushed assignments to last minute and he then realized the reason he wasn’t done yet was because he had spent so much time over the dinner table with Kenma and you, talking even after dinner had been done for a while. You always offered to help him with the clean-up so you also spent some time talking there, drifting off to various subjects far passing the cleaning duties and sitting down again with a glass of water.

He enjoyed your company, it felt... easy, somehow, the sensation that something was off was there but it didn’t really settle in his stomach until every time after you left, as if it was left to grow a bit from a small sensation to a problem, which worried him – Kuroo prided himself as an impeccable people-reader, he was captain for both the volleyball team in high school and college, he knew how to act around business relations so well because he could read them so flawlessly – so the feelings he got from you was unsettling and unreadable and it took some control away from him – and Kuroo always felt uneasy when he wasn’t in control.

____

Kuroo heard your name and almost got whiplash from how fast his head moved towards Kenma, “what?”

“I asked if we should invite them? To game night? Being three is a little annoying in Mario Party.”

“Oooh, that’s a good idea! I’d love to see them again!” Hinata happily exclaimed before taking another bite of the lasagna Kuroo had prepared tonight. It was Saturday and Kuroo had been in a daze the entire day, first at the office for a quick meeting with his boss about a potential partner he might be able to reel in soon and then doing his laundry at Kenma’s and continuing to try and make the stupid paperwork but ultimately failing before he had to make dinner.

“Isn’t it a bit late to invite someone? I mean, they could have plans already...” Kuroo tried, knowing what a pain it could be to be asked to something an hour before it happened and he didn’t want to let you go through that – that’s what he tried to tell himself, at least. In truth? He was a bit afraid of seeing you again, afraid of his potential reactions, since he had spent his entire Friday in a stupor just thinking about you. His thoughts didn’t mean much for Kenma and Hinata though, who was already texting you to ask.  “Oi, no phones at the table, have you parents taught you no manners?” Kuroo chided and Hinata immediately shrank back and apologized – Kuroo smirked, yea the Chibi-chan still had respect for his seniors. But he was quickly pulled back to thoughts about you by Kenma’s phone lighting up again, “they’ll be here in an hour. They’re asking if they should bring anything?” Kenma looked up to gauge Kuroo’s reaction, having noticed something about his friend had been off the past few days. He immediately made a funny grimace before turning it into a smile. “Yea, they can bring a bottle of white wine, if I have to beat you all at Mario Party, I would very much like to be a tiny bit buzzed,” Kuroo said, and Hinata looked at him with wide eyes, “you drink wine!? So grown up!” Hinata exclaimed, to which Kenma just muttered, “or just an old man…” Kuroo didn’t hear that though, too busy to fidget with his hands under the table, suddenly feeling nervous that you were showing up.

Hinata plopped down between Kuroo and you with a controller in hand, “I’m gonna beat you all in this Mario Kart!” to which you laughed loudly, “good luck since we’re playing Mario Party.”

“Huh? Is there a difference?” Hinata asked, making Kuroo belt out a loud laugh as well, holding his stomach, “you just told us you’d beat us but you don’t even know what we’re playing!” Kuroo couldn’t contain his laughter for a bit until he noticed how you were looking at him and instantly retracted his laugh, sitting up straight with a cough, and apologizing for being loud, which confused him to no end. He had never been self-conscious of his own laugh! He knew it could be obnoxious and loud, but he also liked it himself, and-

“That’s a really cute laugh.”

The comment earned you the stares of the century from the three other people in the room, with Kenma in genuine shock – he wouldn’t say he disliked Kuroo’s laugh, just that it was… special.

“Uhm… Uh. Thank you?” Kuroo could feel that his blush went all the way to his ears but he hoped that the light in the living room wasn’t bright enough to catch it. “Yeah uh! Sure! Mhm,” you awkwardly coughed a bit as well before reaching for your glass of wine.

You had brought a bottle of white wine for Kuroo on the promise that you’d get a glass too, saying he was your first friend who also liked wine. The word ‘friend’ had dumb-founded him and he’d just answered “you can have it all,” to which you had laughed and said it’s fine with half, you weirdo.

The game was about to begin but Kuroo was still sitting stuck on the fact that his laugh was cute – cute? Had anyone else found it cute before besides Bokuto and his mom? He wasn’t sure – he sure couldn’t pinpoint them right now anyways. He tried to shake it off and focus on the game, though quite a bit of time was spent explaining the rules to Hinata who apparently had thought they were just playing Mario Kart.

When you were 12 laps into it, it seemed that you were set to win with your four stars and 121 coins. Kenma was right behind you with three stars and Hinata and Kuroo had been left in the dust with zero stars. You had stolen Kuroo’s first (and only) star early in the game, so he was plotting his vengeance in quiet but was getting afraid that the game would end before he could do anything to you – but just as his hopes were at the smallest during the last round of the game, you were put in the same team as him in the last mini game.

Kuroo had a wide smirk when you cheered and said, “this’ll be easy then!” because no, it would not be easy for you. If he had to go down in order to take you down a notch, then so be it. He’d rather Kenma win than you did with stolen goods!

The last mini game was “Tow the Line” where two players were put in a sewing box shaped with nine dots as a grid and two players tied together with a string and the objective was to make the shape with the string as shown in the middle of screen. As soon as the whistle sounded, Kuroo lowered his hands and stopped using his controllers, all with a big grin on his lips.

“Kuroo, what the fuck! Get moving, we’ve started!” you yelled at him as Kenma and Hinata won the first round, signaling the next round began, Kuroo started whistling and looking away from the screen, to which you got up from your seat, “fine, I’ll just take your controller and do it myself!”

Kuroo put his arm with the controller behind him, “nah-ah-ah! You’re not winning this, fiend! That’s what you get for stealing my star!” He grinned up at you with his eyes closed as you stood with your hands on your hips, “come on man! I stole that star in the fourth round! Kenma stole a star from me as well!” you tried, “maybe he stole the one that was yours, who knows! Get over it so we can win!”

But as soon as you’d said that, the third round had just been won and you sighed and flopped down on your seat again, “not cool Kuroo, not cool. I’ll remember this!”

You both laughed as the game made ready to announce the winner, Kenma and Hinata entertained by your antics.

“You can’t avenge something that I avenged in the first place! I only did it because you did me wrong, you know!”

“You can’t use logic on me, it doesn’t apply!”

To no surprise, you won the entire game, even winning one of the two bonus stars given at the end of the game.

After the last sequence and a bow from you there was a quick break before you decided to play some Mario Kart for Hinata’s sake, since his argument was that he lost due it being Party instead. You played quite a few hours and after another toilet break you had switched places with Hinata so Kenma could cuddle up against him. You yawned, drinking the last of the wine in your glass and said, “I should head home, I have a friend coming over for lunch tomorrow.”

Hinata and Kenma both started to get up to say goodnight but you waved at them with a smile, “I can walk out myself, it’s fine!” But Kuroo had already gotten up from the couch as well, so you walked with him towards the hallway where you put on your shoes. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you, which Kuroo noted and scowled a bit - he might have only known you for less than a week but for some reason he felt like it had been a lot longer, like you were old friends – it felt strange, to be so close with a stranger. He didn’t know anything about you, really. He knew your name, your job and how you liked some of your vegetables and which meat was your favorite, he knew you also loved cats but didn’t have one (he couldn’t remember if he knew why) and he felt pretty sure he would recognize you in a crowded area – why it was so intense, he was unsure of, he hadn’t tried meeting someone this way before. It had also seemed like having this game night had made you considerably more relaxed in his presence, even joking around with him instead of being polite, which made Kuroo somewhat giddy, though it didn’t really make sense to him as to why.

“I hope you had fun,” Kuroo said awkwardly, as if he had been the host and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah, I did! I’m sorry I stole your star, though,” you laughed, buttoning your jacket.

“Nah, no worries, as they say, all’s fair in love and war, right?”

You giggled and picked up your bag from the dresser while Kuroo opened up the door for you. As you exited, you turned around with a bright smile, “well, thanks for toni-”

Everything ended up a blur, too bright, too much, too noisy, too… colorful? Kuroo was still looking into your eyes as all that went through him, completely blindsided. As he took a proper look, he could see that you looked just as surprised as him, your eyes wide but still never leaving his either.

“Is… Is this? Are you? Is…” You asked after what felt like both days and milliseconds, I could stare at them so much longer, he thought to himself, the colors only making your face more clear to him. Had you really not had eye contact at all? Had you seen each other for several hours – more than a few times, without looking each other in the eyes at all? Kuroo was more baffled by this happening so late than the fact that it was happening.

He was about to say something, anything, when you promptly turned around, nervously yelling, “I-I uh, I gotta go! Goodbye!” as you hurried out of the driveway and down towards the subway.

“W-wait!” Kuroo belatedly and unhelpfully yelled out as you turned a corner, too late. You were gone. A hand was dragged down his face as a sigh left him, what the fuck had just happened? He obviously needed to talk to you about this, but he also needed to gather his thoughts about all of this, so he slowly closed the door and went back towards the living room, greeted by Hinata and Kenma who looked up at him curiously, “why did you yell?” Hinata asked with his head tilted.

“I think I just found my soulmate.”

[mostlyscenarios]

Knee Pads (18+)

Summary: Bokuto always looks forward to you being at his matches, you being there gives him a confidence boost and something to look forward to after the game. 

Characters: Bokuto X Reader, short features of MSBY. 

TW & Tags: 18+, PWP(I mean, it doesn’t just dive in?), smut (blowjob)

Word Count: 2k+

A/N: gn!reader. Cosmos SA is a completely made up name, I looked at a picture on my wall and thought of it. I had to take multiple breaks while writing this because I was getting horny. There has got to be a better word for balls and I will find it. 

Please don’t not repost my work anywhere or use any part of it! Likes and reblogs are appreciated. 

After almost every game Bokuto played, there was a reward waiting for him, regardless of whether he won or lost. Knowing you were waiting for him was the best motivation there was, and the reward including you on your knees for him? He could hardly control himself. Trying to keep focused on the game was no problem, he knew the sooner he finished the game the quicker he could get to you. That was his thought process at least, but this game seemed to be taking an exceptionally long time. The MSBY team was going up against Cosmos SA and they were entering the third round. The last two rounds had been thrilling, the team they were up against was a good challenge for them. What MSBY "lacked", their team was skilled in. Maybe under different circumstances the thought of being unskilled at something would be upsetting for Bokuto, but now he enjoyed the rivalry it led to. His teammates didn't have time to deal with him upset like Akaashi did, so his so-called emo mode only happened after a lost game (which you would quickly fix with a good hug and positive affirmations). His character growth since he got out of high school was impressive.

Before the third round had started, Bokuto started searching for you in the crowds. Due to being at a different arena, your usual spot was taken by the opposite teams fans. He found you towards the front row, waving your hands to catch his attention. He swore he saw the glimmer of your silver ring that matched his own. He had to take off his before every game but as soon as got off the court he put it back on. Since you to had started dating and gotten married, you had only missed 4 games total. You support kept him going (yes, even the hyperactive man got tired sometimes). He waved in your general direction, trying to not to call any attention to you in the crowds. Taking his place on the court, he tuned into the team in front of him- ready to win the game for you and his team. 

MSBY won after a series of spikes made by Bokuto went unblocked. He celebrated after each one, glancing in your direction making sure you saw him. That had gone unchanged since you started dating, he wanted to make you proud. After giving thanks to their supporters, he escaped to the locker room, avoiding the reporters hoping to ask them questions. He normally would stay around and answer a few questions but right now he needed to see you. By the time he had got to the locker room you were already in the hallway waiting for him. 

“Kou! You did great out there babe!” You wrapped your arms around him, giving him a kiss on the cheek at the same time. 

“Did you see my spike get through the one block?! Even Sakusa looked impressed.” 

“I did, I’m proud of you.” You could practically see him inflating, he lived for being praised- especially when the praise came from you.

Bokuto started to lean down to give you another kiss but before he could, the door slammed open. “That damn Atsumu, he could have at least warmed me before that fan hugged me,” Sakusa shuttered, not even noticing you and Bokuto by the lockers and going straight to the showers. 

Bokuto rolled his eyes dramatically and finishing what he had started seconds ago, he found your lips quickly giving you a sweet kiss. “I’m gonna go shower, you can wait here if you want.” 

“I’ll wait outside, I’m sure the other boys will be in here any minute.” 

“Okay,” Bokuto took his shirt off quickly, “I’ll be 5 minutes tops.”

You walked out of the locker room and caught Atsumu’s eyes, “did you two have any fun yet?” Astumu knew about your little adventures in the locker room with Bokuto. He had once caught you getting up from your knees and it didn’t take much to put it together, he had teased you ever since. He tried to tease Bokuto about it too but Bo just got proud and wanted to talk about his sex life and how good you were to him. 

“No, and no you can’t join us.” You answered him, remembering the time Atsumu had half jokingly asked once if he could join you sometime but you rejected the idea without a second thought. 

“Aw man, you got any cute friends you could set me up with?” Atsumu asked, leaning against the wall. 

“I’ll have to think on that. Now go shower, you smell horrid.” You pinched you nose, exaggerating. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Atsumu waved before walking into the locker room, where Hinata and Meian followed only moments after him. 

A few minutes later Bokuto walked out in a fresh outfit, his hair still a bit damp from his shower. He was handsome as always. You could tell that he used the body wash he had got with you after mentioning you liked the way it smelt. 

“I think that was record time Kou. Do we have somewhere to be?”

“No, I just wanted to be with you.” He leaned into you, giving a quick suggestive kiss on your neck.

“Hmm, are you sure you don’t just want something from me?” You grinned letting him wrap his arms around your shoulders. 

“Maybe…” He trailed off, looking around to see if anyone was there. “They will probably be out of the shower soon, you know Sakusa takes a long time.” 

“Follow me.” You grabbed his hand, pulling him to the staircases which were supposed to be staff only. “I think we can entertain ourselves here for a bit.” 

Maybe using the word entertain at this time was not a good idea since Bokuto was getting eager. 

“Why can’t we just do it here?” Bokuto said realizing the secluded staircase was empty, prompting a quick (gentle) slap on his chest. 

“Shush! There may be people around, I don’t want to take any chances.”

“...can we make out then?”

“Koutaro…” You started but changed your mind, “fine. But only a little.”

Thank goodness you two didn’t start your real activity because a couple of staff members walked through. They recognized Bokuto even without his uniform so they didn’t say anything to him about being in the employee only area. Before long about 20 minutes had passed of you chatting, time flew when you were with Bokuto. He chatted about the game; how spiking made him feel, and how great his teammates were. You listened attentively the whole time, and giving him input along the way. He asked you about your morning and apologized for leaving so early. Bokuto always made sure to give you a good cuddle before finally leaving to go to his warm ups. He just loved you so much, he wanted to give you the world. As you talked he started to focus on your lips, a bit shiny from your chapstick. 

He couldn’t help his growing arousal, and you noticed his fidgeting. When you said everyone should have cleared the locker room by now Bokuto literally swept you off your feet. Pushing the doors open, you quickly thanked the higher power(s) for letting the locker room be clear since he hadn't bothered to check before bursting in. He sat down on the benches towards the back of the room; just in case if anyone came in you had some protection. You were still on his lap, lips attached to his, then his neck, his chest, until you slid down on the floor to work your way down to his gray sweatpants. 

“You did so good today baby.” You murmured, gripping the sides of his sweats to set him free. 

“Wait a minute.” He put his hand in front of his crotch and you quickly pulled away; albeit a bit confused. He leaned back to dig in his duffle bag with his gear, then he pulled out his knee pads that he wore in todays game. “Put these on, I don’t want your knees to hurt.”

“Thanks Kou.” You gave him smile and pulled the knee pads up on each leg.

“Anything for you.” He replied, shifting a bit so you sit easier between his legs.

You got back into the same position, but this time comfier thanks to the knee pads. “Now, where were we?”

“Here.” Bokuto was quick, lifting his hips up while you pulled down his sweatpants. Licking your lips, you gently squeezed his thighs making sure to add a few kisses along the way- but still not where he wanted you to be.Trailing your hands over the seems of his briefs, you decided to leave them on a bit to tease him. First cupping him and then kissing his length through the fabric, you made your way back up to his lips pulling him to you so you didn’t have to leave your sitting position. He was getting the full treatment today, he was so patient waiting for the locker room to be cleared out. He could have easily taken you to your shared car and gotten in the backseat, but he know there wasn’t much room (though you two had made it work in the past).  

“No more teasing, please.” He begged, feeling his briefs dampen just the slightest from his precum. After hearing him, you made eye contact with him. He immediately jutted out his bottom lip to give you a pout while giving you puppy dog eyes. 

You wanted to giggle at his pleas but you were in the zone and didn’t want to break your concentration. “Patience Kou. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 

Despite your words you gently tugged his briefs down, showing you his cock in its full glory. Feeling the cool air against him was a crime when he could be inside your warm mouth. Thankfully, you answered his wordless plea and put the tip in your mouth, rubbing it with your tongue in a circle then down the center getting a taste of salty precum. Pulling away he let out whine that got quickly cut off when you licked a straight line down his length before taking him in your mouth. 

The sounds made by your mouth while taking him were so erotic it took all his self control not to buck his hips. Using your lips to cover your teeth, you went down again this time taking him all the way. You gagged slightly but held you position. Bokuto hated to see you cry, he would always immediately wipe away any tears that fell. However, the tears forming in the corners of your eyes were nothing but seductive, he liked it. 

“Your doing so good, I promise I’ll treat you when we get home.” You made eye contact with Bokuto as he praised you. Running out of breath you pulled away, making sure to keep a good suction on him so you could make that pop sound he liked to hear. Saliva strung from your lips to his cock, dripping down. Shifting a bit lower, you positioned yourself to get easy access to his balls. You placed the hand that had your wedding ring on top of his thigh to prevent him from moving, and with the other you gently cupped his balls giving them a squeeze before taking one in your mouth. You made a pattern of all the motions he liked, sucking his cock up and down, using your hands as help when you weren’t deepthroating him, lapping the tip like a kitten, cupping his balls- giving gentle squeezes. The way your worked your mouth and hands drove him crazy. Although it had been long since you gave him his first blowjob, you always made him feel like a lovestruck teenager. 

 A loud moan came from Bokuto as you deepthroated him once more. Surely anyone who passed would know what you were up to, if the slick sounds weren’t clue enough. Hearing his moan made a heat light up inside of you that you had been avoiding- wanting to only focus on Bokuto. Bokuto knew he was close, all the pleasure building up as you kept working your mouth. 

Giving into himself, he gripped your chin encouraging you to take his whole length again only moments after you pulled away to give yourself a breath. Taking the hint, you allowed him to guide you exactly where he wanted you to be once more. His hand moved to the back of your head, where he held you firmly as nodded you head back and forth. 

“Y/N,” He moaned, “Let me finish in your mouth.”

You nodded the best you could from your spot, and not even a minute later his cum squirted into your mouth. Bokuto sighed from relief, if you looked at him closely you could see the sweat droplets forming on his head. Removing his hand from your head, your looked in his eyes making sure to open your mouth showing his collected cum. 

“Your so hot, you know that? Wait don’t swallow yet, please let me take a picture.” 

You nodded, giving permission for pictures and Bokuto got out his phone opening the camera app. You had tasted his cum so many times the taste no longer bothered you, and although you weren’t sure if science confirmed it or not, his healthy diet probably helped.

He took a picture of you with your mouth wide open with a peace sign up, then instructed you to smile and say cheese. “Good, you can swallow now.”

Quickly swallowing you wiped your month with the towel Bokuto had gotten out when he retrieved his phone. “Send those to me, will you?” 

“I love you Y/N.”

“You better after that! Cum doesn’t exactly taste great you know.” You teased, getting up from you spot and sitting next to him on the bench. “Let me see pictures.”

Bokuto handed you his phone, the first two pictures were a bit blurry but for some reason it worked. You admitted you definitely did look hot like that.

“We should make a video next time.” You said, cuddling into his side and still catching your breath.

“I have an old tripod, I’ll get out today.”

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Steve Rogers, The Man On Fire

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

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

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

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

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

Word count: 5.1k

Steve Rogers came out of the ice angry.

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

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

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

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

No one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How about best friend?

How about partner in crime?

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

It’s the final straw— Steve loses it.

“Anyone got a marker?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s all so fuckin’ wrong.

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

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

Apparently being a good man isn’t good enough.

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

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

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

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

Scratch that— he definitely doesn’t care anymore.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who knew, right?

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

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

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

Who is he kidding; he knows he wouldn’t.

Not then and certainly not now— not when Bucky isn’t here to defend himself against everything Steve has been reading about. That’s exactly why he doesn’t stop talking. Someone has to defend him and who better of a person than him? So, yeah, he keeps going, even when he hears footsteps behind him.

“You wanna’ know who I did save it for? James Barnes, that’s who I saved it for! You see, just around that corner there is a bookstore. Rickley Books. That was my boyfriend's favourite bookstore. You know, the man who gave his life to stop a train in Austria from reaching the enemies? Yeah that was him. That train was filled with supplies. Had it reached their headquarters, who knows if we’d be standing here today. If there would be a New York at all. Not that you would know that. But who cares about that dead sergeant from the 107th, right? There’s plenty just like him.”

Steve shrugs nonchalantly— a move he picked up from the very man he’s speaking about— but he spits his words at the reporters with enough venom to cancel out any peace that the action brings. That’s his own move.

He keeps going. “You know who else I saved it for? His mother. Yeah, his mother Winnie Barnes. Wonderful lady. She used to run a soup kitchen a couple blocks from here. Kept the rift raft like myself from going hungry most nights— I was a brawler, you know.”

A couple of reporters in the crowd laugh at that and Steve flinches, his vision tinting red as he cranes his neck, seeking them out.

“Oh you think that’s funny, do you? You think I’m joking? I’m not. You ever been backed into a corner, son? Had people hurl slurs at you that I can’t even repeat today? Ever been beaten up for loving your best friend? No, I bet you haven’t. You weren’t a queer kid in the thirties. That’s hard— that’s borderline impossible actually. I only made it because of people like Winnie Barnes. That woman was a saint but nobody talks about her either.”

Steve has to take a deep breath, clearing the rasp in his voice that rises as he dwells on the woman he called his second mother for so long. She wasn’t just a saint, she was an angel. He can’t cry here though, not now. Not even as his throat begins to tighten.

“Winnie was the type of lady who didn’t let anyone walk over the little people. She used to sit me down and say Stevie you gotta’ fight for what you want because ain’t nobody gonna’ give it to you. She told me that I shouldn’t have to but that there were going to be people who would try to tear me down just for being me. And she was right— just like her son— because that was the era, you know? But now, here in the twenty-first century, you’re all still trying to tear us down.”

A hand lands on his shoulder, small fingers tugging at where his suit has begun to tear. Natasha Romanoff. He meets her gaze quickly, neck craning to stare down the red head, and in the few seconds their eyes meet it’s like Bucky is next to him. Somehow the blue in her irises catches the falling sun just like his used to. Steve can hear the gruff of his voice in the depths of his mind. Back down, bruiser. The sentiment is echoed across Nat’s face.

Steve shakes her hand off him, turning back to the reporters— don’t they know that he can’t?

“You all say you care about me, huh? That I’m a hero? You know nothing about me— you don’t want to. Before I was a soldier I was a kid. A queer kid. I said that already but let me repeat it. Queer. Did you write that down? None of you certainly did before. That’s how I know that you don’t care— because in an age where being queer is infinitely more accepted you still don’t bother to write it down.”

He pauses for another breath, shutting his eyes against the blinking red lights of the cameras. They’re like little demons, always watching his every move. Recording. Everything’s always recorded these days. Will he ever be used to that? Bucky was the technology guy, not him. Not then and not now.

When Steve picks up again— eyes open and shoulders freshly straight— it’s on a new note— a clear note.

“You don’t care about me— you certainly don’t care about the real heroes of the war because if you did you wouldn’t erase our history. Do you know how much it would have meant to Bucky to see our relationship accepted? The man who died for you? How much it would’ve meant to his mother? You can’t just pick which of our stories and our sacrifices are worthy and which aren't.”

He hasn’t spoken this much since he’s woken up, not all at once at least. Maybe he should have, though— maybe if he had then he wouldn’t feel like ripping the heads off everyone in front of him right now. Call it fight or flight. Call it revenge. Hell, call it whatever you’d like because it doesn’t really matter. Either way he feels like a kid again— again— backed into a corner behind the deli with his fists up and his teeth bared.

He feels feral again.

“So now you just want me to save the world like I did— like Bucky did— all those years ago— or maybe jus’ New York— as if that’s any better— and you don’t even bother to write a proper article about me? Hell, I never even asked for an article, let alone a whole exhibit! I’m just a soldier— and before that I was just a kid. If there’s never another article written about me I’ll be grateful. But now that I’m here, standing in front of you, I’ll say this—”

Just as Steve’s voice is cresting into a shout that would no doubt be heard regardless of whether or not the microphones were in front of him, Natasha tries one more time, her fingers slipping between his.

Her voice is a dull buzz compared to his, only reaching his ears by sheer will. “C’mon Stevie— we gotta’ go now.”

Like before he’s stunned but this time instead of seeing Buck— instead of hearing him in his head— he hears Winnie.

You fought good, honey. You fought good for us. You can rest now.

It’s jarring and it’s not lost on him the handful of awkward seconds that it takes for him to respond. That’s just the effect Winnie had on people though— still has, apparently. Steve shakes his head— I know, mama. But I gotta’ finish this fight.

“No, Nat— I’ve got to say this.” Steve mumbles— voice just beginning to waver despite how hard he clenches his jaw— before sneering at the crowd one last time.

“If I ever read an article from any of you that discredits Bucky Barnes, our relationship, or myself just know that I’ll come for you. I’ll come for this city. Don’t you ever forget who I saved it for. James Barnes, Winnie Barnes, and every queer kid who’s ever felt erased because of people like you. The bigots in the forties couldn’t stop me. The Nazis couldn’t stop me. Not even the Atlantic Ocean could stop me. So don’t think for a second that any of you could either. Have a good day.”

With that Captain America turns, marching off the impromptu stage and beginning the trek back to his apartment. He doesn’t bother looking at his team as he passes them— he can imagine their stunned faces well enough on his own. No doubt he’ll be getting another assignment from Fury soon enough to make up for this ‘outburst’ too. Still, he feels a little bit better. There’s an ache in his shoulder, and one under his ribs too, but he still smiles as he passes Rickman and Sons Books. That must mean something good.

The last time Steve Rogers burns he doesn’t burn the way he’s expecting to— he doesn’t vandalize his own name or blow up at a reporter. No, the third time— the final time— that Steve Rogers burns it’s with nostalgia— and with a damn good cup of coffee in his hand.

“I had no idea this place was even here.” The girl across from Steve muses, tiny hands shifting the steaming cup back and forth.

Her name is Ellie, he learned that back at the museum after asking for a copy of the video she took. He barely knew how to use his phone back then, let alone his email— hell, both still confuse him more often than not— but she had been patient. A little awestruck and a little riled up too but he took it in stride— easily. It’s not hard being nice to the spitting image of him.

“I’m glad I’m good for something other than making the news.” Steve chuckles and this time he means it— there’s no malice or ill intent, only humor. “O’Malley’s ‘s been here longer than I have. Looked a little different then—” he takes a moment to let his eyes wander the old coffee shop and it’s new appliances— a moment to feel his age catch up to him— “but I guess I did too.”

Ellie’s laughter joins in there and it’s strange— strange that he hasn’t laughed with another person in seven, almost eight, months; strange that her laughs sound so much like Bucky’s when they were younger; strange that Bucky isn’t here to hear. Here to laugh, too. Because he would have.

He would have called Steve an old man, would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders, would have asked— no, demanded— that Ellie try the plum cobbler. They always made the best cobbler. Bucky always had the best laugh. All grit and breath and him. Steve feels warm just thinking about it.

“Well thanks for letting me in on the secret, I’ll make sure to guard it carefully.” She even has Bucky’s warm sarcasm.

Maybe it’s not so much like looking in a mirror as it is looking at what he wishes he and his boyfriend could have been back then.

“And thanks for letting me interview you—” Ellie continues, setting the cup down but not before nodding at it, her eyes wide— “wow. You weren’t kidding about the joe, huh? Anyway— thanks for scheduling this. I know you’re probably super busy— and that there are more well established people you could have gone to.”

Steve sets his own mug down too— if he hadn’t there’s a possibility it would be more puddle than porcelain. “Well established means nothin’, kid. Not when you don’t have heart. They’re parasites, all of ‘em. The press couldn’t care less about me.”

Ellie nods, lifting the lid of her laptop. It’s a little bit dented and slathered in stickers, not quite the newest model— he would know, he has the newest one and it’s still sitting in his apartment in the box. Yet another testament to how little the people around him truly know him.

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, can I get you a side of classism with that commercialism?”

Now she sounds like Winnie too.

“Say, has anyone ever told you that you’re funny?”

She shrugs, tilting her head, a lopsided grin glued to her face. “Once or twice— I never know if they mean it or if they just want me to shut up. I never do so I guess we’ll never know.”

Steve sputters out another laugh because; “I guess we’re the same then— never give them a moment, kid. That’s the best advice I can give you.” He pauses— again— he supposes it’s going to be a day of pausing— he supposes it’s about time he pauses— before adding, “Bucky would’ve scolded me for saying that.”

Ellie’s fingers, swift and deft over the machine— Steve hadn’t even seen her begin to type— pause too as her smile softens. “What would he have said instead?”

Her question shouldn’t catch off guard— this is why he asked her to meet him; to finally, properly write his story— their story. Still he pauses— Steve’s empty hands feel hot, his shoulders warm; bare— what would he have said? It doesn’t take long to hear his boyfriend’s voice, not there but somehow loud in his ear all the same.

Just relax— they aren’t worth it. It’s too nice out to care about anything but the water— are you coming in or not? Summer doesn’t last forever, you know?

It’s impossible but Steve can feel the sun on his back and on his ears again, like he’s there— like he’s back, sixteen and on fire. Those were the days where everything made him cold. The days where his skin burned no matter the season but especially in August which was when the ocean was warm enough to swim in. It never stopped him from joining Buck— nothing could have stopped him. His cheeks warm, too, at the thought.

Steve blinks, his own smile— perhaps a little lopsided in it’s own right— shaping over his mouth. “He would have told you to relax— and to try the plum cobbler. It’s fantastic.”

With another giggle— and a reiterated comment— has anyone ever told you you’re funny, Steve?— they fall into a conversation, just a kid and a relic, about life. It’s not an easy conversation— but then again those kinds never are. It’s real, though, and unedited. Unfiltered. Just the way Erskine and Winnie and Bucky would have liked it— the only way Steve wants it. It’s not perfect but, hell, Steve has never been perfect.

He’s never wanted to be.

Maybe Steve doesn’t know everything his boyfriend would say— and maybe he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t blow up once or twice after today— but he can confidently say that he gave Brooklyn a run for her money— twice— and lived to tell the tale. He can say then when it mattered, he burned. That he still burns. That he will until he doesn’t— until he’s extinguished.

But, hey, though Summer doesn’t last forever, not even the Atlantic could extinguish the flame that is Steve Rogers.

That’s what he writes— in Sharpie— on the card he writes to Ellie— the one attached to the computer he knows he’ll never use.