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#his peace sign tattoo always makes me happy
me-gongoga · 2 years
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ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ | ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴍᴜɴꜱᴏɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
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Summary: back home in Hawkins for spring break, you get roped into a game of 'never have i ever' by your friends. but the night takes a turn when eddie accidentally stumbles upon a secret you've been keeping for months
Pairing: eddie munson x reader (gender neutral)
Word count: 4.2k
Tags: aged-up characters (early 20s). fluff/angst, friends to lovers, alcohol use/drug ref, happy ending, no use of y/n
It’s tradition. Every break from college, you head home to Hawkins and meet up with your old crew. Not everyone always makes it, but whatever rag-tag group gets scrounged together is usually more than enough. With graduation on the horizon, you’re happy to see anyone in Hawkins these days.
Tonight, it’s almost a full house, schedules and school breaks aligning. Seven of you are cramped around the old coffee table in Nancy’s basement, laughter abundant and drinks in hand.
Steve proposes ‘Never Have I Ever’ after getting absolutely tossed at darts three times in a row by Robin. And Nancy—three deep in the same room with two of her exes—more than hastily produces a handle of vodka to reward each round’s ‘winner’.
Jonathon and Steve sit at opposite ends of the table, while three girls pile onto the couch—Vickie getting sandwiched between Nancy and Robin. Across from them, you’re sunk happily into an old bean bag while Eddie sits beside you, already asserting he’ll be the champion of the game.
You snort at his proclamation and try to disguise it with a sip of your drink. Eddie catches you anyhow and delivers a swift shove to your shoulder that’s enough to slosh your beer. You glare at him as you wipe up the mess on your mouth, but Eddie only grins back and soon you find yourself smiling too.   
He’s the one person who makes you promises and always delivers.
Eddie picks you up from the train station every time you come home, your favorite from the Hawkins Diner in hand. And while you stuff your face, he regales you with the latest drama from his tattoo apprenticeship and shares weird anecdotes about the more questionable pieces he’s worked on. Sometimes you burn whole days of break just sitting in his trailer and catching up, cross-legged on the floor of his room while he aimlessly plucks chords on his guitar. And sure, you call him while away at school, but nothing compares to actually being at his side and seeing the crinkle in his eyes when he laughs at your jokes. It reignites the warmth that you work so hard to keep contained while away. A heat that’s burning in your chest as you sit beside him tonight.
The first couple rounds of the game are quick and dirty—everyone getting their bottom-of-the-barrel pulls out. The third round is where things actually start to pick up and the admittances get odd.
“You gotta be kidding me, Vickie,” Eddie exclaims, putting down another finger. “You’ve never smoked a cigarette?”
She only shrugs, freckles dotting her dimpled expression. "I don’t like tobacco. Weed on the other hand…”
“Cheers to that,” Jonathon says, raising his beer can.
Eddie hurriedly grabs his own to join.
“Everyone still in?” Robin checks, eyes darting across the group.
Eddie clicks his tongue, voice all too smug as he speaks. “Already down to two again.”
“Yeah, well I’m right there with ‘ya, Munson,” Steve counters, waving his peace-sign count at Eddie.
You settle nice and low in your bean bag, flaunting your index finger. “Better hurry it up, boys. I’m already at one. I can pretty much hear that room-temperature Smirnoff calling my name.”
“You guys know it’s not exactly impressive to win, right?” Robin asks, looking skeptically between the three of you.
Nancy shrugs and crosses her legs with a flourish. “Let them duke it out if they want. I’m still sitting pretty with four fingers.”
“Thanks for the reminder, Nancy,” you say with a nod. “Because, never have I ever, shot a gun.”
The curly-haired woman scowls at you, putting down a finger. “That was uncalled for.”
“Oh, I think it was called for,” Steve argues, down to a single finger now as well. “I mean really, Nance, you should probably put down your whole hand for that one.”
Nancy only waves him off and takes another sip of her drink.
“You’ve tied us all up,” Eddie says to you, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Unfortunately, doesn’t look like I’ll get to win this round.”
“I don’t like where this is going,” Vickie mutters, her eyes narrowing at Eddie.  
“Never have I ever,” Eddie says, pausing to give the room a good, long look. “Kissed anyone who’s here tonight.”
And for an amazingly elongated moment, the room stills into a stunned silence—eyes wide and mouths agape. But when the discourse descends, you can only sit in shock.
At first, it’s just a rabble of frustration that breaks out—Eddie still looking smug as hell with himself in his old folding chair as Nancy shakes her head and Robin shares a pointed look with Vickie. But then Steve’s voice cuts above the din, everyone else falling in line.
“He still doesn’t know?” The brunette asks, looking directly at you. “I thought you were going to tell him!”
“What the hell are you on about, Harrington?” Eddie complains, eyes darting between you and Steve. 
Jonathon groans and runs his hands over his face. “This is painful.”   
“I told you he just didn’t remember,” Robin whisper-yells all-too-loudly from the couch as she waggles her eyebrows in your direction. “I told you!”
Eddie shakes his head, looking incredulously around the table, before settling back on you. “Remember what? What the fuck are we talking about?”
You’d give anything in this instant for the bean bag to suck you up whole and eject you into nothingness. Hell, you’d even stick it out in the Upside Down if it meant you could avoid this conversation. There’s a reason you haven’t brought it up before. Of course, you’ve thought about it—tried even, to tell Eddie. But that was easier said than done. And now your own cowardice had backed you into a corner.
“We made out on New Year’s Eve,” you spit out, before anyone else can describe it more… creatively.
Eddie’s face goes pale, dark eyes blinking down at you. “W-what? No we didn’t. Why would we—"
“Dude, we all saw it,” Steve cuts in, running a hand through his hair. “You had your tongue shoved so far down their throat that even I was impressed.”
“Gross, Steve,” Robin and Nancy chide in unison.
“What? We were all thinking it!”
You clear your throat. “You were blackout, Eddie. I mean, we were all sloshed.”
He looks at you, mouth agape as his eyes trail down to your lips. The beer can in his hand crinkles under his grip as you see his Adam’s apple bob against his throat.
You still remember Eddie’s lips colliding against your own—the memory locked away in your mind like an a painting in a vault. Midnight. It was dim lights and streamers and loud music and unbridled joy and warmth and happiness. It was Eddie picking you up and swinging you around, pinning you up against a wall, and kissing you like his life depended on it. It was you holding onto him with all the fervor you’d bottled up since high school and giggling like a teenager as he whispered things in your ear.
Like all beautiful moments—it was fleeting. An hour later, you were holding back his hair in the bathroom as he threw up every Jell-O shot Nance had handed him. And, when you woke up beside each other on the floor of Steve’s living room the next day, Eddie didn’t even remember the clock striking 12. No, he didn’t remember any of it at all.
Or maybe—just maybe—he didn’t want to.
And that was not something you could handle confronting.
So, you asked the others to drop it—to pretend it didn’t happen. Told them you’d take care of it eventually. Took the photo Jonathon developed of you two and buried it in a box in your bedroom.
You wonder what exactly Eddie sees as he looks at you now. Disappointment? Disgust? You tear your gaze away with a nervous smile, not wanting to dive any deeper.
“Welp, guess, we’re gonna need more glasses,” Nancy thankfully announces, digging herself out of the couch and skuttling over to an old cupboard.
“Are we counting that? Really?” Jonathon complains.
“I mean, why not?” Robin asks with a shrug. “Guy clearly doesn’t remember kissing this hottie, so he’s not exactly lying. I say his bad memory earns him and everyone else a reward from the Wheeler’s liquor cabinet.”
Steve laughs at that, leaning over to slap Eddie on the thigh. “Looks like you get to ‘win’ after all, Munson.”  
“Shit,” Eddie finally mumbles, still sounding a bit dumbstruck. “Guess it’s only fair.”  
Nancy dumps an eclectic collection of glasses on the table, quickly pouring alcohol into each one and handing them out.
“Here, here,” Eddie says, raising his shot to the other ‘winners’. “To making out with your friends.”
You raise your own, catching his eyes again as you clink glasses. “Here, here.”
And then, like a weight off your chest, the night just… keeps going. More drinks, more games, more laughter. And Eddie—seemingly—isn’t even acting differently towards you. Things are normal. And normal is good.
Eventually, the evening starts to draw to a close. Vickie and Robin are passed out, tangled together on the couch, while Nancy sits on the floor between Steve and Jonathon—the beginnings of what has to be a ‘will they, won’t they’ saga playing out.
When you announce your departure, Eddie is quick to join you.
The cool night air feels good in your lungs after sitting for so long in a musty basement. Eddie marches past you down the driveway, taking a dramatic stretch and revealing a dark trail of hair down his midriff. You avert your eyes, trying to take casual interest in the gardening equipment scattered in the lawn.
“So,” he begins. “Did you still wanna come over? Watch a movie or something?”
You rattle the backpack slung over your shoulder; polyester material plastered with patches he’s given you over the years. “Didn’t bring a bag for nothing, Eds.”
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Eddie mutters as you approach him, all too casually snatching the backpack from you. “Let’s go, smart ass.”
You smile and begin the tipsy trek towards Eddie’s trailer. He pulls out his cigarettes, offering them to you first as he always does.
You click your tongue and slip one from the pack. “Vickie would be appalled.”
Eddie chuckles, closing the gap between the two of you to lend a light, his hand cupping the flame in the breeze. You’ve always found him handsome, but when he’s up close and personal like this, fire in his eyes, it feels like you could drown in his good looks, and it would be a welcome death.
“Thanks,” you murmur, taking a long drag, as he pulls away.
“You got it,” Eddie mutters through his teeth, lighting his own.
The two of you walk in comfortable silence down the usual route, enjoying the soft crunch of concrete and gravel beneath your boots. Even with the full moon hanging overhead in a clear night sky, you’re thankful not to be stumbling home alone in the dark. Since experiencing the Upside Down together, Eddie always went out of his way to get you home safe or offer you a place to stay. At first you thought maybe it was just safety in solidarity. But now it was familiar. Comforting.
“So,” he says, voice raspy and sudden. “Can we talk about the five-ton Oliphaunt in the room?”
You swallow hard and decide to play dumb. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that we, uh,” Eddie clears his throat. “Kissed, and I don’t even remember?”  
You chuckle, trying to ease the tension in his voice despite your own discomfort. “Sure, if you want. But there’s not much else to say. We were just trashed.”
“Yeah, but how did we even get there? Us?” He says motioning between the two of you. “I mean, come on, we’re— we’re just—"
“Friends,” you say, finishing the sentiment for him, the word bitter on your tongue.
“Right,” he mutters back, smoke billowing from pursed lips.
“I dunno,” you admit honestly. “Too much to drink, probably. Besides, Eddie, if I had known how gone you were, I wouldn’t have agreed to it.”
“Agreed?” Eddie says, attention piqued. “So, what—I asked you to kiss me? And you said yes?”
You chew your lip, shoving your hands into the too-tight pockets of your worn-out jeans. “I mean, it was New Years, y’know? You probably just wanted someone to kiss at midnight. Everyone does it.”
Eddie scoffs. “Right, because if there’s one thing about me, it’s that I love to follow the crowd.”
You only shrug, clueless on how to respond when you barely have answers yourself.  
Silence falls between the two of you, relief slumping into your shoulders as Eddie’s barrage of questions seems to subside. You kick yourself for admitting you chose to kiss him—but at least it wasn’t entirely strange.
You and Eddie had admitted to finding each other attractive on more than one occasion in the past. Why deny such obvious truths? You had both simply agreed that you were most definitely not romantically compatible.
Though you never hashed out the details on why that was.
“So,” Eddie grumbles, voice like sand paper in the quiet. “Was it bad or something then?”
“Huh?”
“The kiss, idiot,” he says, swinging the bag into your shoulder. “Is that why you never told me about it?”
You shake your head, heart palpitating at the memory of Eddie pressed against you. “No, nothing like that.”
“Then why hide it from me?” Eddie asks, rasp edging into his voice again. You can feel his dark eyes on your profile. “Seems like you went through a lot of effort to keep it under wraps.”
His words sound almost accusatory. Suddenly you’re scrambling for something to offer him—anything other than the truth, really.
You drop your cigarette and stomp it out, watching as the bud smolders to nothing on the ground. “I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
It takes a second, but laughter erupts from his chest, carrying into the night with an ominous echo. “Right, like you’d ever pass up the chance to hold something over my head.”
That’s true enough—it was part of how your friendship operated. One time he admitted to having a wet dream about the bartender at the Hideout, and you had used it to blackmail him into free drinks for half a year. Eddie gave as good as he got, of course. He knew you had used the Arcade’s backroom to hook up with more than a few people—some more questionable than others—and he had Keith on speed dial should you ever not supply him with free tokens during his visits. All of that was good fun. Platonic.
But New Year’s Eve… the kiss… that mean too much to you just to be played as a gag.
Exasperation grips your voice. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
You really don’t. And maybe Eddie senses that because he doesn’t respond.
It’s quiet as you pace on together, only the soft buzz of Hawkins’ electrical lines filling the empty void, unsettling and cerebral in your ears. It almost makes your body itch.
You’re thankful when Eddie speaks again, even if his tone is surprisingly somber.
“I think I get it.”
Your heart sinks into the depths of your chest. “You… get it?”
You watch the mass of brunette curls bob as he nods slowly.  “You’re ashamed that you made out with me, right?”
His voice is so serious it ties your stomach in knots and stops you in your tracks. He was so painfully, awfully wrong.
“I mean, I can’t say I blame you,” he continues. “Poor, directionless, loser that I am. Just good-for-nothing Eddie Munson. Who would wanna be caught dead kissing me?”
“Don’t say that,” you hiss at him, hands balling into fists. “It’s not true. Not fucking true at all.”
He pauses his stride and turns, chest rising and falling steadily as he stares at you in the night. “I’m just kidding.”
“Are you?”
Eddie runs both hands through his hair and shakes his head before flicking his cig to the ground. “Forget I said anything, okay? Let’s just hurry up and get back to my place.”
“No,” you reply, marching up and attempting to rend your bag from his shoulder. “I’m going home.”
But he only tightens his grip on your backpack, eyes meeting as you pull against him. “Please don’t.”
You scowl at him and give the bag another strong tug.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Eddie stutters, grabbing your wrist. “Now will you please stop trying to rip my shoulder off?”
You want to bottle up the frustration and anger at his careless words and hurl it back at him. But the stubble on his jaw, the scent of his aftershave, the look in his eyes—it’s too intoxicating. Whether he’s acting insufferable or not.
“Fine.” You let go of the bag and Eddie releases his grip in turn though the heat of his hand lingers unwarrantedly on your skin.
You’re supposed to move—supposed keep stomping back to his trailer. But instead, you just find yourself tethered to the asphalt, unable to tear yourself away.
Eddie stares back at you, still and expectant in the night.
Then words are tumbling so quickly from your lips, you hardly hear yourself speak.
“I was too scared.”
He blinks at you, dark eyelashes fluttering beneath loose curls. “Scared?”
“That’s why I never brought it up, Eddie,” you mutter, heart pounding in your ears. “I thought maybe you did remember kissing me and just... didn’t want to.”
His eyes widen, plush lips parting. “Why would I ever want to forget that?”
You shrug, boozy uncertainty welling in your eyes despite your efforts to fight it off. “Because it was me, Eddie. It was me, and not some hot bombshell you could brag about making out with. It was just me. And I’m—” 
“Perfect?”
Your face scrunches at the word. “Don’t make fun of me.”
But he seems to only find humor in your disgruntled expression, his face alit with laughter in the dark. “For someone so smart, you really are damn dense sometimes.”
Before you can protest his comment, Eddie’s pulling you against his chest, your face colliding with the denim of his jacket, musky scent of cologne and shampoo flooding any sense of reasonable thought from your mind. Strong arms slide over your shoulders and snake around your neck as you feel him rest his head atop your own.
“What I said earlier—I’m scared too.” Eddie confesses, a rasp to his voice. “Scared that once you graduate from that fancy-pants college, you’ll get some cool big-kid job that’ll take you far away from Indiana and you’ll forget all about little shithole Hawkins. And... forget about me.”
His admission hits you like a bolt of lightning.
Eddie is the only consistent in your life. Rain or shine, hell or highwater—he’s always there. So how could he think himself anything close to a footnote in your story?
“Never,” you mumble, relaxing into Eddie’s chest. You wrap your arms snug around his waist, trying to impart every bit of your heart with one embrace. “How could I ever forget such a sloppy kisser?”
Eddie cackles unexpectedly, his chest reverberating pitched tones against your head. “Oh, come on. You’ve gotta give me another shot.”
Your heart flutters at his words. “Yeah?”
He relaxes his grip, creating just enough space to greet you with his deep, chocolate eyes. The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile as he stares down at you. “I mean, I can’t say I’m totally sober, and it’s not New Years, so I really have no excuse…”
“But?”
“But,” he repeats back. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna kiss you right now.”
Your eyes wander to his lips—the very same that you’ve fantasized about so frequently and experienced only once. And now, standing under the flickering, orange streetlamps of Hawkins, he was offering them to you again.
“You’re sure?” You ask.
Eddie nods. “Listen, I don’t know what exactly got into me that night—”
“Wheeler’s Jell-O shots.”  
He cringes at the word, sticking out his tongue in mock disgust. “Ugh, that’s right. I still can’t even look at anything close to Jell-O.”
You giggle at his perturbed expression. “I know. You nearly fainted when Dustin made us fight a gelatinous cube in that one-shot yesterday.”
He shakes out his head like a wet dog, wringing more laughter from your chest.
“What I was trying to say—before you so rudely reminded me of my gelatin-aversion,” Eddie says with a pointed glance. “Is that I’m glad that some part of me worked up the nerve to do what I’ve spent years contemplating.”  
“You mean throwing up in Steve’s pool?”
“Okay, come on,” Eddie complains, rolling his eyes. “I’m trying to do this whole, romantic-ish situation here and you are just fucking t-boning it at every turn.” 
You’re smiling like a maniac now, starry-eyed and hopeful. “Sorry, sorry—go ahead.”
But Eddie just shakes his head, planting a warm, calloused hand under your jaw. “Nope. I’m just gonna kiss you before you say anything else to ruin it.”
And though you try to retort one final time, Eddie’s reflexes are too fast for you to counter. In a split-second, his mouth is pressed up against your own. He pulls you flush against his hips, encouraging collision as your fingers wind through his hair. His lips are as soft as you remember, but this time they seem intent on savoring every inch of your flesh, dangerously disarming as they elicit moans from your throat.
Your sounds only entice him further. He nibbles at your lower lip and hums with satisfaction as your mouth parts for him, vodka and tobacco crashing across your tongue as he eagerly explores you. The taste of him conceives a delirium in your mind like no drug you’ve ever consumed, thoughts drifting away one by one. He’s warm and perfect and good—so fucking good.
There’s purpose as Eddie holds you—kisses you­­—for the first real time. The happiness is overwhelming, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as Eddie brands you with the heat of each kiss. Your knees quiver under the elation, all of it nearly too much to handle.
As if sensing your imminent collapse, Eddie lifts you up into his arms, your legs wrapping naturally around his waist. You squeal out of sheer surprise, his lips curving into a smile against your own. He gives you a gentle spin to provoke more laughter-hiccupped kisses, his mouth trailing to your jaw and down your neck, his stubble tickling your skin with each peck.
You open your eyes as he starts to slow, watching him intently as he draws back, hunger still hanging in his eyes. He carefully returns you to the ground.
For a moment, you just stare at each other in silence, the buzz of the power cables now but a peaceful ambiance.
“Shit,” is all he manages to say, lips still plump from your attention. His arms are immovably hooked onto your hips.
“That bad?” You tease, struggling to catch your breath, heat still consuming your chest.
Eddie shakes his head, disheveled hair bouncing as he beams at you. “Seriously not sure how I could ever forget something like that. Wow, babe.”
“Yeah well,” you mutter, thoughts dazed by his affectionate words. “Don’t jinx it. I… can’t handle going through that again.”  
Eddie’s expression falters as he studies you, brow creasing. “I’m sorry. God, if I had remembered—well, I would have done a lot of stuff different.”
“I should have just told you—I should have known that you wouldn’t… it doesn’t matter. I’m just glad we’re here now.”
“Tell me about it,” he says, squeezing your waist.
“You better remember in the morning this time, Eds,” you threaten, poking him in the chest.
Eddie smiles and drops dramatically to one knee, crossing an arm over his chest with all the ceremony of a squire about to be knighted at the Ren Faire. He clears his throat before reciting what seems like a well-rehearsed proclamation.  “I, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, hereby pledge that from this moment forward, I will never—fucking ever—forget anything when it comes to us. So help me, Lolth.”
In return, you raise your arms up to the sky. “Praise be to our Demon Queen of the Abyss!”
Eddie laughs and stands back up, grabbing you by the waist and spinning you around once more. “God, I fucking love you.”  
“Yeah?” You ask, starry-eyed in his arms.
He nods, folding ring-adorned fingers around your hand and planting a kiss just inside your wrist. “Yeah. And you?”
You smile at him. “Never have I ever loved anyone more than you, Eddie Munson.”
2K notes · View notes
loadedberetta · 5 months
Note
Berry baby🖤
I hope you're doing well and *remembering* to hydrate.
I was just talking with a friend and i find i slip into other languages expressions while I'm speaking or even typing - I'm a polyglot (I know a good few languages) including South African Sign Language. It certainly takes alot of people by surprise since it's not something I go around speaking about.
How would TF141 + Alex Kelle react with this given they never were explicitly told about this skillet before hand?
I hope you enjoy your festive season and find yourself surrounded by the most peace and happiness Love🥀
hi lovie!! (sipping on magnesium water as we speak!)
having dipped my toes in language learning too, I bow to you, polyglot friend~ holidays are hard, thank you for the encouragement, same goes to you! decided to turn them into drabbles, it was much fun, thank you for the req! alright, here is (my first req stuff ever)
141 + Alex react to: polyglot Reader
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rating: M (language, light flirting?)
warnings: smoking, interrogation [military inaccuracies]
[series with random headcanons about specific situations (involving the reader) and how CoD characters would react to them; mostly the 141, but Alejandro and Rudy, Laswell, Farah, König, and others will make appearances too]
other parts: [tattoo] [pregnancy] [knife tricks] [drawing] [foreign language]
find me on ao3 // masterlist
Price
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A small note was attached to your file that Price seems to have overlooked in the year and a half since you were under his command; in Laswell's handwriting, which John knew already from the countless similar notes she left for him throughout the years. Yet, this one stood out; sign language? And how many languages again? He made a mental note to ask you over grub the next day.
Breakfast was always fast; after first drill, but before the day really began. And always with your mates, switching languages with ease to accommodate new members and brothers passing through, just on transfer at the base.
Price always ate at a separate table, always. Sometimes alone, sometimes with some higher-ups. But this morning, he sat by your table, which opened up a seat for him. Everyone's body language shifted to accommodate him among you. He didn't speak, and the conversation between you and a temporary transfer settled back into a comfortable flow. His ears perked up to each sound he didn't seem to have heard from you, as they weren't part of the English phonemic system.
He himself muddled in French and some Arabic and harboured a basic understanding of Spanish since his time in Mexico, but your confidence and knowledge shone through the effortless speech. You and your speaking partner seemed to share a lighthearted conversation in a language he could only guess.
Soon, you let yourself notice his glances in your direction, often settling on your lips for short moments. Smiling to yourself, you finished your coffee as your deskmate excused themselves from the table, having emptied their tray.
Instead of turning to another group being taught foreign swearwords by a new recruit (to which you had to resist the urge to share your favourites), you lifted your gaze to meet Price's.
"Enjoying yourself, Captain?"
He chuckled, raspy.
"How did this never come up?" He asked without much sugarcoating.
"What exactly?" You chuckled.
"That you know about a dozen languages, including… South African Sign Language?"
A small smirk formed on your lips, proud of the recognition and attention to detail.
"I don't go around flaunting it." You stated plainly. "It's not even on my file, it's… just something I do, as a person; it's not for the military or anything."
"Hm." That was all he replied to that. "-but…"
"Yes?"
"Could be useful."
You could see he was pondering something.
"What if I told you I have a spot for you on officer training, hm? They're looking for… intelligence."
Ghost
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( I cannot resist using this gif--)
Finding yourself behind a counter, taking orders from businessmen, assistants, and university students; not exactly how you imagined life in the big city. It was a second job of sorts, only part-time, as you couldn't squeeze in anything else besides the academy.
It was a busy morning, your shift covering the entirety of it before classes began that day. The line was only growing, and the other shiftie beside you was struggling; some foreigners complained about their order, and another pair of customers speaking a third language just rolled up to him, totally overwhelming him. Calling out a name for an order, you waved to the next in line (a sweet old immigrant lady, with whom only you could chat out of the whole team, easily overstepping the language barrier), and told her to just hang on for a moment.
You addressed the complaining couple in a well-mannered way, quickly sorted out their issue with a complimentary muffin and a cookie, and switched languages with ease, freeing your shiftie partner from the agony that was speaking any other language than English for him.
The rush died down just the slightest after a few more hectic minutes, and the shiftie went for a break when you noticed a familiar figure standing by the counter as you turned back with another order.
He gave your unit a few lessons this semester and remarked on your capabilities in strategy and urban warfare. You remembered him, and it seemed like he did too.
The usual balaclava he wore when instructing was replaced by just a black cloth mask hooked behind his ears, revealing a few more details about his face than you'd seen before.
"Sir." You addressed him, conveying you respected the civil setting, yet communicating your respect toward him considering your short but memorable history. "What can I get you?"
"Didn't know you were fluent in that many languages." He remarked after describing his simple order, making your cheeks heat up at a moment's notice.
"It's nothing, really…" You tried brushing his words off with words that came out shakier than you meant to sound.
"How many do you speak?" He asked with a small tilt of his head.
His eyes widened for a moment at your answer. "…and South African Sign Language."
A chuckle, something you'd never heard from before stuck in your ear for a good few seconds, drowned out by the milk frother.
"I don't do lesson plans, you know?"
"What?" You lightly shivered with excitement at the fact how interested he seemed in your knowledge.
"Would you mind, you know… Doing a lesson? Sign language is a valuable asset. I can give you some time next Friday."
"I…" You stuttered a bit at his proposition.
"Nothin' fancy, don't worry, darling. Just some basics."
"Alright…" You found yourself saying after a moment when the light ringing in your ears faded.
"Maybe even tell your story… I'd be interested for sure."
And with that, he grabbed his coffee from your hand, putting some coin on the counter with the other, and was out the door before you could say anything else.
Alex
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He didn't talk. Not to ULF soldiers, and bravely (maybe stupidly) not even to Alex. Farah's request for you to get to the scene was… interesting. She stated her presence was required in another part of the country, and in her encrypted message, she explicitly voiced how your assistance might help ULF break the man.
So you came. Alex greeted you on the airstrip with a smile and a hug, his frame towering over yours.
"Alex, a pleasure to see you." You smirked as the two of you walked back to the nearest building.
"Can only say the same." His tone was warm and welcoming, a staple to him. "You hoping to crack our guy?" He asked you directly about the matter at hand. The small carrier that brought you here whirred into the air in the distance.
"Exactly."
"And how's that gonna go? We haven't even gotten a word out of him, let alone information."
"That's why I'm here now."
"The stage is yours." He opened the door of the large building to you and ushered you inside.
A few hours later, he stood by your side, as you tried to find a crack on the prisoner's tough shell. After many unsuccessful attempts, the tired captive let his head fall, a small curse leaving his lips. Your ears perked, and Alex could only watch the scene unfold in front of him.
In a language he only heard on the TV before maybe once, you asked the prisoner something, to which he immediately lifted his head in confusion. Pressing on, you visibly exerted yourself to gather as much as you could on the man before he would shut down again.
After a few exerting rounds of questions, you stood up abruptly, and nodded for Alex to come with you. Closing the door to the room, you turned to him, but he spoke up faster than you did.
"What is and where." He crossed his arms and awaited your answer with a bite to his lip.
"I don't know yet, but he talked about a car rigged with charges, but he's going to shut down soon, fuck…" You clicked your tongue, exhausted from the rusty pieces of knowledge forced to work in your brain at high speed.
"Hold on… He had a detonator on him when we apprehended him… Are you sure it's a car?" He backed away, looking as if he was about to bolt somewhere.
"White, small, local model." You shouted after him as he disappeared down the corridor.
You stepped back into the room and closed the door behind yourself.
A day later, you were there as Alex switched the trigger, and the car about a mile away from your position, deep in the desert blew to pieces as the two of you watched.
"How the hell did you know from a damn single word?"
"It's a local dialect, where I happened to have stayed for a while, it's not important…" You dismissed the seemingly unimportant detail with a wave of your hand.
"So we just happened to luck out on this one?" He chuckled and turned to you.
"Well, I could have tried about half a dozen more languages, but hey, if this one worked…?" You looked up at him, a small smile tugging the corner of your lips up.
"And Farah knew this?"
"Her hunches are never wrong." You shrugged.
"Yeah… You're right about that."
Gaz
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You and Kyle bonded during selection. Both of you were younger than most of the cadets, and yet, somehow competed for top scores. It wasn't even a test of endurance, it was a test of who could beat the other. DS were amused by how easily you passed hurdles, just to be better than the other one, paying no attention to other competition.
And after that, the two of you became inseparable. Like people who'd known the other since childhood or had been good neighbours for years. Phone calls when oceans separated the two of you were very common, and sometimes you found eachother in inopportune situations; yet these calls only strengthened your friendship. Keeping each other company, and slowly growing to know more and more about the other.
It was a spur-of-the-moment trip, catching the first plane when you finally got your leave. A country you've only seen in books so far, but a language you'd already mastered.
Kyle called you when you were out on the first morning, trying to fetch food from a market.
"Good morning, Kyle." Your chin was visible in the frame of the phone, and the blue sky above you.
"Morning yourself, except it's the middle of the afternoon. Where are you?" He asked in a surprised tone, his face coming closer to the phone, trying to discern some landmarks around you, to no avail.
"In a market. Got on a plane yesterday, and--" You quipped, looking down at Kyle, who was visibly confused about your whereabouts.
"Jesus wept, bug, you're insane…" He shook his head, almost missing as you started haggling, faint voices breaking through the line.
He quieted down and leaned forward on his couch to listen. For a good minute, he couldn't understand a word you were saying, only listening to your voice flow, lips dancing in unique patterns. Soon, you held your quarry up to the camera, something bundled in white wax paper.
You sat down and finally positioned your phone to show your face and upper body, and a bit of the busy scenery behind you.
"You're a wizard, you know that?" He laughed and lounged back again.
"A party trick if you will. I know a few more." You shrugged, and bit into your breakfast.
"Few more?" Kyle repeated, chuckling in disbelief. "What else, like, sign language?"
"Actually…" You laughed, somewhere in the background a bell tolled distantly.
"No fucking way." Kyle licked his upper lip and looked away. "I thought I knew ya."
"There's always more to know, friend."
Soap
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Sharing a room with Soap was… an experience. He was a sound sleeper, not causing much fuss at night, so you were content in that regard. The other departments, however, not much.
He was unruly, to say the least, and it took some time to get accustomed to his schedule. One of you being a morning shower type in opposition to the other being a night shower person caused some friction in the beginning, but like everything else, it settled after a while. After all, this was supposed to last only the three months the unit was stationed at this base.
You hadn't known eachother that well before, but that changed at around the one-month mark.
Having been given a few hours of phone time by Price days before for this afternoon, you set up to call your best friend, a few thousand miles setting the two of you apart. You haven't talked in way too long, and before you knew it, you'd already spent an hour talking and laughing over Facetime, phone propped against the metal grate by the foot of the bottom bunk, you sitting on the mattress.
You acknowledged Soap coming in a few times for his notebook, cigs, or to grab his coat from the back of the chair, but didn't pay it much attention, being so absorbed in the conversation with your favourite human on the other end of the line, confined to the little screen by the foot of your bed.
It was already dark outside, when Soap burst into the room, and put his finger to his lips, signalling you to be silent.
Looking down at your best friend "I need to be silent. Wait a bit."
To which they replied with an "Okay, I'll wait."
Soap flicked the light off, and a few moments later, a few people passed the room; you could hear the footsteps.
"Random inspection." He whispered as he climbed up into his bunk, trying to remain silent.
Praying your room wouldn't be chosen, as you were still in uniform instead of nightwear, you settled on your mattress too. An idea flashed through your head, and turning the brightness on your screen to high, you continued your conversation over Facetime in silence, your best friend quickly catching on to what happened, as you explained the situation in sign by the dim light.
A few minutes later, Soap climbed down from the bunk and switched the light on.
"Gaz texted, they moved on to the next building… what are ya up tae?"
He looked back at you, as you caught his glance too while signing.
"Sign. South African Sign Language. I'm talking to someone."
"Right…" He chuckled bemused, and headed out again, probably for a cig with some other delinquents, to which you shook your head with a smirk on your lips.
Later that night, when you settled to sleep for real on your back, his overgrown mohawk poked out followed by his head from above you, overlooking you on your bed.
"'eard you speakin' earlier… And that sign language too… So… Mind teachin' me some?"
(alright that's all, hope you liked it, goodnight)
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stevetonyweekly · 3 months
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SteveTony Weekly - February 11th - Week
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I’m traveling this weekend for my niece’s quinceanera so I’m sharing a list of my favorite fics that I posted on twitter last year. It’s still some of my favorite fics of all time, so this week go show them some love or send me some of YOUR favs, and I’ll be back next Sunday with our regularly scheduled weekly reading. 
~*~ 
Open Field in Front of Him by orphan_account
Steve Rogers's football season is functionally over after a loss to Rutgers, but he finds a distraction in Tony Stark (yes, THAT Tony Stark). A college AU Stony fic.
In Trouble Deep by FestiveFerret, SirSapling
"Whoever did this has a reason, and Stark needs to be with someone who can protect him. He won’t exactly be able to protect himself like this.” Fury looked at the baby consideringly. “No, it’s you, Steve. Besides, he likes you. Suck it up, soldier, you’re stuck with him.”
The Twice-Told Tale by arysteia
For someone he'd hero-worshipped for so long, Steve Rogers in the flesh is a pretty big disappointment. For one thing, he keeps looking at Tony as though he reminds him of someone else, and even if he never says anything, Tony's pretty sure it's his father. A lifetime of not measuring up to Howard's expectations is more than enough, thank you very much, and he's certainly not going to make an effort to live up to any of Steve's. Steve's pretty clearly failed to live up to his expectations, in any case, and that's not hypocritical at all.
Bulletproof by foxxcub
At age fifteen, Steve Rogers had been in love with Tony Stark.
By age twenty, he’d (mostly) gotten over it. And then he promptly became Tony Stark's fuck buddy.
dick drunk by mistymountainking
“I’m going to fuck you stupid,” Steve says, pulling away only a fraction of an inch to say it, a promise as deep and certain as the look in his eyes, “and you’re going to take it. Aren’t you, Tony.”
Tony wants a drink. Steve gives him something else.
Sixpence In His Shoe by scifigrl47
Steve and Tony should really read the fine print on what they're signing. Then again, some mistakes are not really mistakes.
Straight on till Morning by Sineala
Tony Stark resigned his commission in Starfleet five years ago, after a disastrous away mission, and he swore he'd never go back. He just wants to be left alone to build warp engines in peace. But the universe has more in store for him than that, as he discovers when Admiral Fury comes to him with an offer he could never have expected and cannot possibly refuse: first officer and chief engineer aboard the all-new USS Avenger, a starship of Tony's own design. What's more, the Avenger's captain is Steve Rogers, hero of the Earth-Romulan War. Believed dead for over a century, Steve is miraculously alive... and very, very attractive.
But nothing is ever easy for Tony. As he wrestles with his secret desire for his new captain and his not-so-dormant fears, another mission starts to go wrong, and Tony becomes aware that Steve has secrets of his own -- and the truth could change everything.
For the Love of a Dragon by Captain_Panda
If it was between you and your dragon, who would you save?
Deep in the Heart of Me by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)
Veteran single dad Steve runs a tattoo shop. Pepper arranges for Tony to get that tattoo he always wanted, and he winds up with the mother of all crushes instead. Jumping out of airplanes is one thing, but love requires real courage. Steve struggles with letting someone into his life. Tony tries to keep his heart intact while Steve works on his issues.
Craving a realistic depiction of a romantic relationship featuring PTSD, mental health issues, and characters who discuss their problems? This might be for you. No magic fixes here but a happy ending is guaranteed!
Never Too Late for Love by Sineala
Steve has always believed that a soulbond is a blessing -- a rare and beautiful miracle, joining the thoughts and feelings of two people forever, from the first time they touch. Steve knows he's not going to be one of the lucky ones. He knows Gail isn't his soulmate. But he loves her, even if they're not soulmates, and he's going to do right by her. After the war's over, he's going to marry her, and they're going to settle down. They'll buy a house. They'll have children. He'll see his family again. Maybe Bucky will live next door. It's going to be a good life. He doesn't need a soulbond. He'll be fine without one.
Then Steve wakes up sixty years in the future to find that his wonderful life has moved on without him. His family is long dead. His fiancée married his best friend. And the only purpose he has left is leading the Ultimates, a misbegotten team of superheroes with flaws too numerous to count. Steve hates everything about the future -- but most of all he detests Tony, flashy and flirtatious, who embodies everything Steve hates about a world he never wanted to live in.
And, oh, yeah, Steve has a soulmate after all: Tony fucking Stark.
Toy Soldiers by copperbadge
When Steve Rogers, five foot four and a hundred and ten pounds, met Tony Stark in a bar, he didn't expect it to lead to a relationship. Or that Tony would find out he's not an art student during a SHIELD rescue mission in Afghanistan.
there are still beautiful things by meidui
The day Tony takes Steve home from the New York Army National Guard is the best day of his life.
I've got you under my skin by sirona
Five times Beijing 2008 Olympics Gold Medalist Tony Stark thinks it's going to be no more difficult a job to get ready for London 2012, than what he has just achieved. That is, of course, before Coach Fury comes to visit, and offers him a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be a part of something much bigger than himself. Swimming AU.
The Foodieverse by copperbadge, scifigrl47
It's an AU where everyone works in the food industry. That makes total sense and is definitely not wildly irrational on any axis.
do you fondue? by calciseptine
Tony has done crazy things in the name of food, but falling in love with Steve Rogers really takes the cake.
Homefront by copperbadge
Steve Rogers is a capable leader, a kind and cheerful man, a good friend, a strong role model, and a loyal soldier. He's also teetering on the edge of suicide.
stress relief by romanoff
They don't love each other. They barely even like each other.
The Jar by Sineala
The Avengers are ridiculously competitive people, and what starts out as a silly late-night team discussion quickly becomes a contest: their names. Not the code names -- the nicknames. Who can go the longest without using them? They pledge to spend a week not nicknaming each other, and they'll pay up every time they mess up. This hits Tony the hardest, and not just financially. Tony's got a lot of nicknames for everyone, but most of all for Steve -- and when Tony can't use the names he's already got, the names he uses reveal feelings he had no idea he had.
Celestial Navigation by sabrecmc 
Celestial Navigation: 18 year old Omega!Tony finds himself Bonded to Captain Steve Rogers. He isn't happy about it until he is.
By request, here is CN in one place without other stories and artwork.
ad astra by Areiton 
The first time he kissed Tony Stark, the stars danced overhead.
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fletchysohot · 10 months
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X.
Le grand rendez-vous
Who hasn't wanted a romantic italian summer romance with Kai Havertz?
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WORD COUNT: 2.6K
The Italian riviera is exhilarating, from the way the sun makes the sea glisten the most beautiful shade of turquoise, bleeding into bright white when waves hit the cliff beneath the road, to the way white birds swoop in and out among white boats, with sails that disappear and reappear along the horizon like tiny meteorites in an endless sky. Driving along the coastline where the mountains meet the depths of the sea makes your breath hitch at every turn Kai takes on the small roads built into the rock walls of the cliff. You feel your knuckles turn white every time you grip into the handle of the door or edge of your car seat and your stomach drop whenever the car takes a sharper turn, grazing the pebbles of the road side. 
You look over to Kai as the wind plays with his hair, his features framed by a pair of dark vintage frames and a black tshirt that hugs his torso perfectly, his tattoo peeking out when he moves his arm. He looks like a heartthrob plucked straight out of an old movie. Like he will turn to you and feed you a line just for it to be followed by a million women swooning and fainting. You are mesmerised by the way his hands steadily hold the wheel of the vintage BMW cabriolet, guiding the car, traversing it between the cliffside and rock wall. You admire the way his face is not showing any sign of worry or concentration, as if one wrong move would not send the two of you tumbling straight into the mouth of the sea with glistening white teeth of the crashing waves a hundred of metres below. The way the corners of his pink lips curl upward resemble those of a cat laying in the perfect spot of sun, you think, content and happy - a man at peace. 
If you consider the past six months you don't think you have seen Kai look this way in a long time, his mind always torturing him about could-have-beens and should-have-beens. Even after games that he's won his mind would always trap him in a spiral of self pity for not doing better. It is almost as if you are not sitting next to the same man anymore, this Kai is not pale from the constant rain clouds and time spent indoors, instead his skin is glowing a light olive colour, reflecting the warm summer rays. 
“You're thinking again,” he chuckles.
“I just don't like looking at the sea right now.” You throw your eyes over your shoulder and your stomach drops as he nears the edge of the lane again to pass an oncoming car. 
“We'll be done with this road soon,” he soothes you, “schatz.”
You know he adds the last part to make your worries trickle away. He only uses that nickname on special occasions, in fear of it somehow wearing off, of becoming less special. Even though he is aware of the effect it has on you. 
“You called me schatz.” You smile at him, letting your cheek fall onto the headrest as you look at him dreamily.
“I know I did,” he chuckles, not taking his eyes off the road.
“You look happy,” you observe. 
“Yes, I'm with you, of course I'm happy!” He chuckles and the way his face lights up makes your stomach erupt in butterflies.
“I like you happy,” you sigh contently, “I like it so much.”
The car goes back to being silent, the italian radio station mixed with the sound of wind whizzing over your heads. You keep sneaking glances at the man next to you, your attention drawn to the fleeting views passing by the car.
The apartment you are staying in is small and quaint and humble in contrast to your spacious and luxurious house in England. The building is old, with old creaky floorboards and pale blue walls in the kitchen and living room faded from the decades of history that the bones of the home carries. The rooms are connected by heavy wooden double doors on rusty old hinges. The bedroom, much like the living room, is adorned by big windows framed by white linen curtains moving slowly in the breeze, beyond them a balcony overlooking the town below and the beautiful sea beyond the lively streets. The air of the space is heavy with the evening heat and humidity that mixes seamlessly with the smell of saltwater and wind that has seeped into every wall of the apartment over the decades. The distant bustle of the streets floats in through the open window making the apartment fill with life and warmth. 
“Do you like it?” Kai's soft voice startles you.
You turn to look at him, your mind trying to find the words to encompass how everything, the trip and apartment, feels. 
Even though the apartment is a stark contrast to what you would expect a professional football player to book as a holiday getaway, it is somehow perfectly Kai. Simple and humble, yet beautiful and extravagant in its own way. Special and one of a kind. You see him in every nook and cranny of the place. From the walls the colour of his eyes or to the sturdy and reliable furniture. A treasure tucked away from prying eyes. 
And there he is, standing in the midst of it all, in a loose white t-shirt and a pair of simple shorts, hair still messy and windswept from spending all day driving a cabriolet, illuminated by the aura of the apartment. As if he was made for this place. This moment. Made for you only. The light from the cheap bulbs and windows illuminating him like he is something sent from heaven. An angel that has been cursed to walk the world until he finds his true love and now, here, in this moment, he's looking right at her. His eyes glisten in the evening glow filled with love and care and excitement. 
“It's perfect Kai,” you say. Perfect seems like such a dumb and bland word to describe this place. You scramble for more words - superb, magical, breathtaking. None of them would describe the way you feel. None of them live up to the moment. 
He doesn't reply instantly, taking his time to walk towards you, slowly, to let his eyes take you in. Finally he cups your cheek with his palm, slender fingers tracing shapes on your cheek. You lean into his touch the same way a sunflower always finds the sun. Kai slowly reaches down and kisses you. Your lips move slowly, lazily, both of you aware that you have nowhere to rush, nowhere to be. You tangle your fingers in his ebony hair and his hand cups your lower back as a cellist would hold his beloved cello. You feel his muscles ease against your body bit by bit, Kai melting into your body, finally letting himself relax. 
“I think it's pretty great too.” He smiles pullin back and looking down at you. “I was thinking we could maybe go get dinner and explore the town?”  
“Only if you hold my hand the whole time,” you tease him.
“Who said there was any other possible way of doing this?” He kisses your nose letting his hand slide from your cheek, down your shoulder and arm finally finding your fingers, intertwining them.
You try to find words or a stupid question, to stay here, in this moment, not to leave this perfect bubble of love. To have him kiss you again in your perfect safe haven from the world beyond the doors. To lock him away from prying eyes and sharpened tongues that make him doubt himself. To protect him. 
But you know you cannot. He is not yours to lock up in an ivory tower, or in this case a small apartment by the sea in a small Italian coastal town. The worry lines on his forehead will come back and his muscles will tense again, this Kai in front of you, right now, is all but a mirage, smoke and mirrors. A sight only occurring once in a blood moon. A fleeting image that you are desperately trying to catch before it fades.
And then, like clockwork, as quickly as it appeared the air of peace and relaxation is gone. Even if he tries to hide it his shoulders become more rigid and the hints of self doubt and pain sneak back into his eyes. Your heart breaks seeing how easily, like it's second nature to him, Kai slides right back into the role of the tortured and haunted prodigy that will never live up to the expectations set on him by the world. Like Sisyphus always trekking up the hill just to be knocked down again when he thinks he's reached the summit. Never giving up or giving in - determined to bring every ounce of glory home to his team and family and friends.
“You ready to go?” you ask him, kissing his cheek. You are scared that if you stand here for a moment longer, look in his eyes for a second longer, you will break down. Fall to your knees sobbing. Beg for him to give up football. To move here. To run away with you. So the vultures can't get him. So he is safe. 
“Yes ” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you, as soft as before. His touch feather light against your body, like a warm summer breeze. 
The streets of the town are lined by citrus trees, the smell of oranges and lemons mixing with the warm sea air sends your head spinning. Kai swings your hands between the two of you as both of you exit the little pizzeria, bellies full of cheese and bread and wine. Cheeks already sore from smiling and laughing.
“That wine was amazing!” you say to him as you near the seaside. 
“It was phenomenal,” he exclaims, bringing your hands to his lips and kissing your knuckles.
Phenomenal. Another word that seemingly loses all its magnitude and weight if you were to try and use it to describe this place and feeling. It feels too overused and mundane if you were to use it as a verbal expression of your feelings. Many things are phenomenal - meals, songs, films or football games. But if you tried to describe the smell of the fruit trees lingering on the nightly streets of this city or the way waves crashing against the rocks by the seaside create a perfect symphony of background ambience to your walk it would not be phenomenal. It's too much of an overused word for that. 
“Do you wanna go in here?” he asks, pointing at a small outdoor bar, swallowed by flower vines and adorned by metal tables, music playing from the speakers, people milling around the courtyard. 
You nod enthusiastically. The place looks like pure magic, out of a movie. The kind of place people go to fall in love. 
You find a place to sit while Kai goes to fetch the two of you a bottle of wine and glasses. As he walks through the crowd you sigh happily. It's the way his face can't help but light up at the sight of you, every millimetre of his features filled with pure unadulterated love and joy. He slides into the seat next to you and pours the wine. The two of you begin to talk about the surroundings, looking at the people passing by. You tell him about how you think you should plant roses like these at home, a reminder of the trip always with you, growing and wrapping around the sleek and seemingly perfect terrace of your England home, breaking up the sterile feeling that the home has even after years of living there. He tells you about how the two of you must find out who makes this wine before you leave so he can import it, so there is always a piece of Italy with you, because never has he tasted a better wine ever. You debate about whether you should stay here another night or move on to Lake Como. Both of you captivated by the sheer beauty of the seemingly meek town that has rooted itself into your hearts.  You take turns picking the bottles of wine and making a game of it. 
Currently you are on your third bottle watching an old italian couple slow dance to the upbeat music. Both of you grinning at the seemingly oblivious pair, lost in their own world, moving to a beat completely opposite of the current song.
“You think that's going to be us in a few years?” you ask, chuckling.
“Definitely,” he says when you look at him, he isn't watching the elderly couple, instead his eyes are glued to you. 
“Kai...” you chuckle, blushing.
“Come on! I'll give you a taste!” He says getting up.
“Kai...” you laugh.
“Come on!” he laughs gripping your wrist. “I want to dance with you!”
He pulls you up from the seat grinning like a maniac, and you don't protest. His eyes are dark like the sky above, the light from the lanterns above illuminating them with flicks of light like stars. You let his limbs pull you after him, the two of you soon moving to the rhythm of the song. Suddenly the air around you is light and time doesn't matter. 
“What are you thinking about in that head of yours?” You ask him.
For a moment Kai forgets the missed penalties, the goals that should have been, the booing of fans at away stadiums and fans dressed in blue. His muscles relax and briefly his heart is not weighed down by worries and pain. In the moment, under the moon in this small quaint Italian town, he is not “Kai Havertz - football player”, he is just Kai, a man from Aachen, dancing with the love of his life under the starry skies, not worrying about tomorrow. The way she looks at him makes his heart skip a beat, as if she saved him from himself and nothing matters anymore, he's not pushing a rock up the hill just for it to tumble down again. He's not searching for glory, tripping and falling over his feet. Having her look up at him like he put the stars in the sky and pulled down the moon just for her, makes him feel like there is nothing he can't do. Having her in his arms, knowing she doesn't hate him, even if the whole world does, and knowing she is always in his corner is enough to bring him to his knees. She was sent from heaven above to save him from himself. 
“Just how much I love you…” he smiles. His smile is different. Brighter, more genuine. “What are you thinking about?”
“Just how much I love you.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, kissing the warm skin earning a laugh. The kind that makes even the deepest parts of his chest rumble. 
In that moment you feel like nothing matters, like no one can ever break this moment. Like in one of those postmodernism books your mother used to read on holidays, time is a construct, and you and Kai have briefly become timeless. Stuck in this moment that is filled with love and calmness, passion and excitement. Excitement for the future and what stands before the two of you. You realise that the magic is not hidden in the apartment, or growing in the vines of flowers everywhere or even bottled and corked here, it is instead rooted between you. Like a secret only you and Kai are in on. Finally the word comes to you. Finally you find words that describe the place, the moment, the feelings. Everything and everything and everything. It's all - Kai Havertz.
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plisuu · 3 months
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happy friday Sterling! For Revalas, "honestly, i’m always there. in my head. the scars on my body might’ve healed but i never really walked away from it." from the for the damaged prompts?
Ehehehe thank you for the food! Here's Revalas and Bull having a chat about the Tal-Vashoth :)
wc: 650 @dadrunkwriting
Revalas lay on the cold stone of the ramparts, watching the moonlight filter through his fingers, the backs of his hands crisscrossed with scars and the branches of Mythal in delicate brown ink.
“It’s not easy.”
His voice was soft, quiet in the darkness. He felt the sharp gaze of The Iron Bull on him. The Iron Bull. Another name. Another title. Another role.
Kothaari. Ben-Hassrath. Hissrad. Tal-Vashoth.
Revalas.
It wasn’t so different, was it? To take a different name, a different role, and to make it your own.
“But… it’s not that bad either.” He chuckled dryly, rolling to his side. “How’s the wound? Saar-qamek, yeah? That’s rough.”
Bull grunted a reply, and Revalas raised an eyebrow. ‘A courtesy,’ The Iron Bull had called it.
What he wouldn’t have given for a simple courtesy, back in Seheron. Not that it mattered now, with the tattoos of the Dalish across his face. He recalled, vaguely, how once as a child he had tried to use vitaar, to try and be like the Qunari warriors, and mindlessly let his hand drift over the pitted scars it left across his cheek.
“Could be worse,” he continued, filling the space with idle chatter. What could be worst than being Tal-Va-fucking-shoth? “Could be stuck in Par Vollen or something. Even the swill Cabot serves is better than some of the crap there.”
Bull only stared at him, expression unreadable, and Revalas swore at himself internally. He used to be good at this—good at talking, good at smoothing over conflict and settling the minds of those who suffered Asala-taar, those that needed soothing and reassurance, and to be re-assigned within the Qun. Kothaari. One who brings peace. ‘Ben-Hassrath. Glorified re-educator,’ he reminded himself. He tried not to think about it too hard.
“Listen,” he started over, pushing himself onto his elbows as he laid on his stomach. “You’re still you, no matter what you call yourself. You aren’t any different than you were yesterday, or the day before that. No offense, but you were basically living as Tal-Vashoth anyways.”
Was this helping? He wasn’t sure. The corner of Bull’s mouth twitched. That was a no, then. This was different, a lot different than filling a role. This was his life now. Their lives, now. Creators, he hadn’t thought about the Qun this hard in years, but there it all was, all of the information, all of the knowledge and the language and the culture and laws, all still filed away neatly.
“It doesn’t matter to me, at any rate. I know, big talk coming from a fellow Tal-Vashoth, but there’s still life after the Qun, you know. It’s not all murder and banditry. Promise.” He winked, and Bull sighed, shaking his head.
“I killed hundreds of Tal-Vashoth in Seheron,” he finally said. Revalas shrugged.
“And I punched Skinner in the face last night, if we’re making confessions.”
“Probably deserved it too, the bastard.”
Silence settled over them again, as Revalas watched Bull carefully, and Bull watched him just as carefully back.
“You know what I think?” Revalas continued. “I think, Qun or not, Tal-Vashoth or not, you’re still a damn good spy, and captain of the Inquisition’s mercenaries. Sure, Seheron fucked us up pretty bad, but we’re here now, doing other things, being people. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good man.”
“Thanks,” Bull eventually replied. His eye crinkled, the signs of a small smile creeping into his expression. “You’re not so bad yourself. You know, for a Tal-Vashoth.”
Revalas laughed as he stood, brushing gravel off the front of his breeches, and turned back towards the door the Herald’s Rest.
“See? There you go. Now, lets head back inside and get something to drink. I don’t think I can listen to Rocky tell the same story for the tenth time this week while sober.”
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getosubaru · 2 years
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𝑔𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒹𝑜𝑔
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ryomen sukuna x gn!reader
best friends to lovers drabble series; based on these prompts
wc: 639
tw/notes: small text only for description; no curses AU; sukuna & yuuji as twins; choso as their brother; violence (not @ reader); reader gets cheated on; everyone’s 21+; as fluffy as you can get for sukuna
prompt: punching the guy that broke your heart
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He might scowl when others call him your bodyguard, but there’s an air of truth to it.
So when you burst through his door in tears, his previous guests flee with a look of terror on their faces.
Everyone knows better than to fuck around with you.
Everyone, it seems, except the piece of shit you’ve been dating for a few months.
Sukuna gets the story out of Yuuji, quick texts sent while you bawled into his ratty t-shirt.
The waste of carbon decided to cheat on you with the coworker he swore was just a friend.
You only found out because you stopped by his apartment to grab your gym bag.
Sukuna’s always been careful to keep his temper away from you, never wanting you to see him go off the deep end. You knew about the bar brawls, the street fights, the run-ins with the cops. But you’d never actually seen him strike anyone.
He locks all that away with you. Your calm, gentle presence humanizes him in a way that he had learned to crave. You bandaged his knuckles, paid his bail, and never asked for more than he could give you.
He wants to give you everything.
But never at the risk of damaging you with his own brutality.
Sukuna waits until you’ve exhausted yourself crying into his chest. Yuuji accepts your weight when his twin passes you to him, nodding at the barely contained bloodlust on his face.
“Choso’s got eyes on him,” says Yuuji. “I’ll text you when Sleeping Beauty wakes up.”
Their eldest brother flicks his finished cigarette away when Sukuna approaches, gesturing at the packed bar across the street. “Megumi and Maki are taking bets over who’s going to be the one to hook the fish.”
“What are the odds on Maki?” asks Sukuna, voice bored and at ease. The only sign of his building rage is his fists buried in the pockets of his hoodie.
“Good enough that Megumi will be paying for most of my back piece.” Choso holds out a collapsable baton, only for Sukuna to shake his head. “Tsk. You’re the one who’s going to have to explain your fucked up knuckles.”
True to form, a grinning Maki leads your ex out of the bar by the hand. He’s a dead man walking, but he hasn’t quite figured it out yet.
Sukuna is happy to catch him up to speed in the alley behind the bar.
“If I ever see your face again…” He punctuates the threat with a kick to the man’s kidneys. “If I ever have to even hear your name again…”
He’s idly aware of Megumi and Choso arguing in the background, his twin’s boyfriend more than a little put out about how expensive Choso’s tattoo artist is.
Sukuna draws your ex up by his bloodied collar and shoves him against the wall. The fucker probably won’t remember any of this, but he’s going to make his point.
“Death will be a mercy too good for you. Understand?”
His answer comes in the form of blood and booze vomited on his shoes.
Sukuna showers the night off, wrapping his hands once they’re disinfected. You’ll scold him if he just lets them heal without anything.
Yuuji’s washed your face and swapped out your tear-stained shirt for one of Sukuna’s old band shirts. The neon horror printed on the fabric is comically contrasted with the peace you radiate in his bed.
You roll over when he climbs in next to you, arms reaching out to pull him closer.
Sukuna thinks you’re still sleeping, still lost in a hazy dreamscape as you nuzzle into his chest and trace your fingers over scars you’ve long since memorized.
“Thanks, ‘Kuna,” you mumble.
He might be the one dreaming when you kiss his chapped, split lips.
“You always protect me.”
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tagging a few friends ilysm: @73sorcerer @bunnaccino @satorhime @xo2dee @abberant-butler @muertasanta
a/n: i got way too attached to this little AU so i might come back to it. lmk what characters y'all wanna see next and throw me an ask if you wanna get tagged!
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corrodedcoughin · 2 years
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Dropping back in with another magical!au. I’m literally obsessed with the idea of Steve being an accidental necromancer. Like just obsessing over Eddie’s death, never accepting it, always thinking about what could have been if only he had more time. One way or another Eddie being reanimated as Kas. Eddie having an odd attachment to Steve(for context in DND necromancers have some control over the undead).
Sorry I just have ideas asgdjakab
DONT APOLOGISE COME BACK AND TELL ME MORE!!!!
Maybe Steve having a little bit of a thrall over kas Eddie??? But eddie had one over Steve by nature of his new form so they kind of cancel each other out???
And in Steve’s extensive research into necromancy and revival he found sigils and signs and Incantations. Which is how Steve’s torso ends up being covered in tattoos and scarification, majority of which are shared with Eddie. Steve didn’t plan it that way, he actually got the tattoos because they helped him feel closer to eddie and remember him but in doing so, he was actually engaging in necromancy rituals.
Sometimes he feels guilty and Shame for bringing Eddie back, should he have left him in peace? He’ll never know. But what he does know is that Eddie is here with him now, yeah he’s a little different and has some new tics but he’s happy and enjoying some of the strange benefits to being ‘revived’ (they don’t say back from the dead, it makes it too harsh, too real)
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witchthewriter · 1 year
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Hi there lovely! Here’s my information for the Sons of Anarchy Ship/Match-up
Features: I’m a female, standing at 5’6, I possess long light brown hair with a tint of redness in the sunlight. My hazel eyes change each day from green/brown to brown/gold. I have the sun and moon tattoos on my thighs, a shark up my side torso on my ribs, half an arm sleeve and a neck tattoo revealing my zodiac sign – Gemini (which I often hide) I’m slender with curves.
Hobbies: I am a workaholic; it becomes my hobby at times. I work in the funeral home, removing the deceased from the POD. I enjoy my free time spent with my dogs, my fierce Doberman and my lovable, motivating exercise collie partner. I enjoy reading all things Stephen King and James Patterson and playing any horror related video games. You guessed it, I’m a strong advocate for the horror genre, and Freddy Krueger will always have my heart. I watch SOA and SPN religiously whenever I tilly tally around the house.
Personality: Often seen as an outgoing, happy go lucky, eccentric lady (This is from first judgement from people I know) When really, I’m rather introverted and possess way too dark humour. I collect knives, different types ranging from a replica of the SPN demon blade, to a jungle machete. These are all encases in a glass shelf, only used for display. I love to make others laugh, and I’m incredibly loyal to those I care for. I don’t practice religion (I support others who do) as the only thing I believe in, is the reaper.
Aesthetics: Not sure if this is a term but my house is very much cabin like. Wooden beams, brown features, brown clocks with black accents. I love this kind of theme, heavily decorated with green plants and fish tanks.  
Likes: Lover of being at home, with my man and the dogs. Also a lover of all things spooky. I enjoy long hot showers with my candles lit in the shower itself, It’s so peaceful. I love to read, whether it be books in my hand or online. Sadly, I am a smoker, so my time alone on my patio having a cig is therapeutic to me. I adore time spent with my little family or my close friends whether it be going to the pub for a beer or shopping at Walmart for new bedding 😊 Coffee is my best friend.
Dislikes: My biggest dislike in this world, is seeing animals mistreated. I am that person that buys the near dead betta fish at the pet store and brings it home to treat and watch thrive. I dislike SNAKES. They just scare me, but don’t wish any ill will on them. Hypocrites are my triggers, can’t stand someone who preaches to the choir about wrong doings when they’re actively just as guilty. Own your shit is my motto.             
Brief fun facts about me!
Used to train canines for search work, in areas such as narcotics and explosives. My closest friend is my grandma. I love to wear black. My go to perfume is good girl. I play COD often – I’m competitive in nature. I wear the SONS rings as I got them custom made, and it’s my favourite accessory!
I put way too much into this post, but hopefully it’ll help lots with finding my best ship! Thanks for taking the time to do this 😊  
Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈
You LITERALLY sound like a character from Supernatural?!?! Are you sure you aren't Bobby's long-lost daughter or something?
Also being a canine trainer?! Um... are you the coolest person in the goddamn world? I think so.
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𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏
𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑶𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒏! I think you guys would be such a perfect match. In a way, you remind me of a cool-ass version of Donna? You seem very strong - emotionally, mentally and physically. Opie is a quiet guy, very loyal and genuine. You don't have to worry about him being manipulative or having underlying motives. He practically wears his heart on his sleeve but does his best not to show it.
𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔
・You’d both be very level-headed and know you can trust the other. Opie is incredibly loyal, and if you showed to him the same loyalty, then nothing could come between you. 
・I think Opie would put on a brave face to watch horror movies, and he finds some scenes funny. Although he gets tight-lipped when there’s a lot of gore (feels a bit guilty?)
・He’d actually like one of your favourite horror movies, and love getting themed gifts from you
・Opie would love staying at home with you - you two would move in together and make your home a paradise. You both have a similar aesthetic. Cabin, rustic, and cosy, Opie would absolutely adore your dogs. 
・I think you would fit in with the club very easily. Gemma would be wary of you at first, but realise you aren't someone that's easily pushed around. You would definitely grow on her without realising it.
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bhristyy · 4 months
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To my new aquaintance, a 30 year old gay man;
We casually speak to each other as if we have met at least once before. Out of boredom and pure curiosity I asked him for his zodiac sign followed by finding out his lifepath number. He was a Leo and his lifepath number was 4. I was very familiar with this type of person.
My ex boyfriend whom I dated for years, towards the end of high school, had a significant importance in my life at the time. I told my new aquaintance that lifepath 4’s are extremely disiplined, like stability, routine, and structure. Extremely hardworking people, that like to set goals. Outside of that, I told him that I admire how much Leos love unconditionally and being a lifepath 4 is such an overlooked mentally strong person. Someone that can lose it all today and rebuild everything again. Once things go extremely wrong, I admire the fact that they can start from scratch and rebuild their lifestyle. He ended up crying in my arms in public because he had never felt so heard and so seen. He admitted that he use to be too busy pouring into other people’s cups that he felt empty and in order for him to fully love another person again he has to fully love himself.
Why Leos are my favorite sign:
This took me back to a time where my ex and I were together and we had fond memories. He was a very good partner and a loyal friend. I use to visit my friend’s house every day who lived down the street…
My ex was always there because they were bestfriends. He was someone who almost all the girls at my school had a crush on. He was 5’10, mixed with black and asian, toned with abs, built arms, tattoos, a deep jawline, quiet, and very calm. At a glance, I could tell he was good looking, just normally not the type of men I went for. He was a pretty boy.
Gradually we became closer, we started to sleep next to each other, and became more touchy. We ended up becoming friends with benefits because he expressed attraction towards me. He asked me out and we became a couple. I could already feel his love towards me growing everyday as we got to know each other. He had severe mommy issues. His mom ended up kicking him out and I took him in. He was forever appreciative of this. I was still very young at the age of 17 and he was 19. Living together made us know everything about each other. I had undiagnosed BPD. I was extremely moody, sad, anxious, jealous, angry, happy, and unhappy all in a matter of hours. I often took things out on him, because I was so broken and so hurt from childhood trauma and wounds. He made things at home as peaceful as he could. We would shower together, cook for each other, go on dates, and watch movies together. He always gave me half his paychecks, bought me my first car, paid for my upkeep, and helped me with my homework. I felt very taken cared of. He always remembered every holiday, birthday, and more. He did whatever possible to make life easier for me and always kept his word.
He truly loved me for who I was. He came home one day with my name tattooed. I felt really special and adored. We spent most of our days going to work, cooking, playing video games, and enjoying our time together. Being so young, I still wanted to hangout with my friends. We hung out with mutual friends, but it wasn’t the same. We both grew very jealous hanging out with the opposite sex. He thought I loved male attention, bruh-girls definitely didn’t exist in 2012. I guess it didn’t matter to me whether I went out or not, but I also felt like I was missing out on life.
We eventually had to move away from each other and both of us lost the ability to make effort or stay in touch, I suppose. I don’t remember our ending too much. I just know we tried to get back together again and we just didn’t feel the same. I mostly only liked him as a friend. I wasn’t able to feel for him romantically.
What I learned:
As much I think I wasted time, I actually didn’t. I learned so much from this. I learned how to appreciate the small things in life more and how to love. Us being together kept both of us safe from nonsense. We built together, worked together, and reached personal goals. I did not have immediate family emotionally there for me at the time. Later, when I helped him make amends with his mother, his family treated me like family. He showed me the love and loyalty I never got. I appreciate all of his efforts for being there for me. I wish I felt the same way towards him, but I didn’t and just couldn’t force myself to. However, I wish him the best sincerely and hope life treats him as well as he once treated me. We do not follow each other on social media and I do not have feelings for him, but part of me wishes maybe some day I will meet someone and will be able to give them a love so selfless, unconditional, and pure. I hope that he is doing well, married and with the children he always wanted.
P.S. I am sorry I never loved you in that way, but thank you for being in my life and showing me something I didn’t know I needed.
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servin-up-surveys · 1 year
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survey #091
(taken december 18th last year; uploading surveys taken while gone)
Have you ever shared a house with a significant other? Not legally, but I stayed in that apartment way, way too regularly to be considered a "guest" by that point.
How are you feeling today? Happy, sad, or anything else? I am super fucking at peace, Girt stayed last night and the one before that and it was great. Roman and Cookie both slept with us, and it was just a sound, cozy night. I woke up when he did with his alarms to go to work and we were both super cuddly and it was just cute. After work he comes straight back here to stay again, and I am ACTUALLY considering trying to make dinner out of something for us so I can feel like a proper adult and helpful partner. Idc, I wanna do something nice and adult-y.
Who was the last person that made you upset? What did they do? I am FULL prefacing this with the fact this was dumb as shit and I was absolutely being a brat, but I got frustrated I wanna say three nights ago when I was venting the tiniest bit to Girt and he took 'til like, midnight, when I was asleep, to reply. It's embarrassing to even share, like holy shit he has a life and responsibilities and also free time and such. He proves a million times over he cares and is absolutely always there for me, that night just sucked so pretty much everything was hurting me.
Do you have a crush on anyone? Tell me about them. "Crush" doesn't even begin to cover it. Been there for me consistently more than any friend I have ever, and I do mean ever, had. He's never lost faith that I can do great things and conquer what I'm afraid of. He makes me cry from laughing when I don't even want to smile. I feel like I can tell him pretty damn much anything. He's genuinely the most doting boyfriend ever and besides probably my mom of course, my biggest fan there is; he will hype me the fuck up over anything and supports me endlessly. He really appreciates and values my advice and opinions. He SOMEHOW acts entirely unashamed of me. I need to stop, I am too fucking emotional lately and am crying/fighting not to sob lmao jesus, he's just great.
Have you ever had something signed by someone famous? What and who? No but bitch I wish, there are some signatures I would frame lmao
Have you made out with anyone in the last 2 weeks? Yeah.
Have you shaved your legs in the past three days? No. I want laser hair removal on my legs so fucking bad, my legs humiliate me but for multiple reasons regularly shaving them just is not reasonable, or maybe even not possible right now.
Does anyone hate you? Probably. Quite sure there are people who do.
What bugs you about the last person you dated? She is, honestly, one of the biggest liars I have ever met, and has been SINCE we met. Among other things.
Have you ever felt replaced? Oh yes.
Have you ever played a drinking game? Which ones? No.
Did you ever play Neopets when you were younger? Oh yes, I was obsessed. Honestly, it started my computer addiction, I'm pretty sure. Omg I actually recently saw this tattoo featuring a sick tiger Neopet with the quote "we are all God's Neopets, and he forgot the password" and BOY I fucking CONSIDERED lmfao
Do you regularly check anyone’s profile online? Nope.
Have your parents ever worked in medicine? My mom was a pharmacy tech for quite a while.
Do you have any silly nicknames or pet names? I guess "Twinkie," which is the nickname my mom has used for me since I was a baby; she gave all her kids sweets nicknames, lol.
Are you any good at drawing? I guess, wish I was better though.
Is there anything unusual about your house? Uh I don't believe so.
Do you find it hard to talk to strangers, even people who work in stores? Yes, to such a debilitating degree that it has majorly affected my ability to work/find work I can function through.
How many wigs do you own? Zero.
Are your maternal/parental instincts strong? No, but more than they once were; I've helped my mom babysit my nieces and nephew so much that I guess they just naturally started to grow. Like I DO know I get way more upset when a baby cries than in the past, especially if they ARE my niece/nephew, like I get this desperate urge to fix whatever's wrong and I really feel like my heart hurts. It's weird, historically I've had stronger maternal-ish (major emphasis on "ish," don't make this weird) protection instincts over s/os, I've found especially if they're sick.
Do you feel confident in your body image? My self-confidence is in the fucking negatives and it's been getting to me even more than usual (which is already severely) the past few days.
Do you like country music? I hate it. In very rare instances, I'll hear a song I enjoy, but in general? I cannot stand it.
What was the last essay you remember writing about? Toxic masculinity. I wish I still had access to it, it was probably one of my favorite academic things I have ever written. My teacher loved it and used it as the example piece the following semester.
In your dream kitchen, would the worktops be marble or steel? Marble.
Who is considered the “black sheep” of your family? Why? Me. I am pretty starkly different from the general vibe and interests of my family.
What’s something you’re so good at that you take pride in your skill? I'm genuinely proud of my writing.
What’s the worst/best thing you’ve done without your parents knowing? My mom would probably kill me if she knew certain places I "did things" as a teen lmfao. Best, uhhhh... that's hard dude, my mom knows so, so, so much. I'm stumped enough to give in and also say the same things that qualified for "worst" kms 🥴
What’s a random funny scene from a movie that has stuck with you? Honestly a lot from White Chicks, that movie is so fucking memeable and I love it.
Would you date someone who still lived with their parents? I do that now, so yes. Although in Girt's situation, it's for his mom versus she housing him; she has mental health problems and couldn't work for many years, so she came back to Girt all the way from like Indiana or something and stayed with him because he's a fucking saint. He's basically run the place for he and Shelia for many years on his own, but she's now had a stable job for maybe like a year now and he's very READY to move out, the housing market is just so wordlessly insane right now that doing so is very unreasonable, so for right now they stay together.
Would you have to sleep with someone before marrying them? No.
Do you think there is life on other planets? In some form, absolutely. It's like, impossible for us to be the ONLY life-sustaining planet in an infinite space.
Would you enjoy a night of playing video games? Hell yeah, those with Girt are the absolute best.
Would you watch a porno with your partner? No, porn grosses me out personally. I don't want to see two totally random people going at each other. I would get absolutely nothing but a disgust reaction from that. It's totally fine if others are into it (just not to an addiction level obviously, that's problematic), I'm just not.
Do you like gummy candy? Yeah, it's a texture I like more than most others.
Do you know what the person you have feelings for is doing at this moment? He's at work.
How many brothers does your father have? I'm quite sure he has none, or he just hasn't talked about him like, at all.
Are any of your relatives vets? Not that I know of.
Who cleans the most in your house? My mom.
Do you have any current or past teachers on your facebook friends? Quite a lot, and I doubt they're happy with me. 🥴
Have you ever seen the last person you kissed cry? No.
Do your parents vote? I know Mom does, idk about Dad.
Who's the most romantic person you ever went out with? Jason.
How would you react if your best friend was pregnant/got someone pregnant? That would be Girt so that would be a VERY quick breakup if it wasn't me. If it was me, I'd be fucking devastated, terrified, and get an abortion as absolutely soon as possible.
Have you ever seen the last person you kissed dressed up fancy? Possibly in high school on his senior picture day, but I don't remember it.
Did you have a dream last night? No, last night's sleep was totally peaceful.
What’s something you’ve always wanted to say to your ex? I haven't *always* wanted to say it, but for years now I've just wanted to tell him I'm so sorry.
What would you do if you saw a guy hit a girl? My VERY strong instinct says that I would absolutely storm over to them and deck him dead in the face. I very literally think I would. And then call the cops.
What is the last state you were in besides your own? Virginia.
What two breeds of dog do you think would make a really great puppy? Maybe like... an akita and chow-chow. I looked it up and apparently they're legit and I'm in love.
Who is the best person you’ve ever “met” online? That's too hard. I have met THE greatest people through the Internet.
Describe your elementary school in 10 words or less. Very invested in their students, extremely friendly, bright, fun.
What is the greatest kids’ show ever and why? Okay don't judge but when I'm watching my niece with Mom, she LOVES the show Bluey, and honestly it is absolutely adorable and shows you such an ideal but also realistic picture of a good, honest, just picturesque family.
The best album ever made is ______ because _________: Ozzy's Black Rain because you skip NO song. EVERY single one fucking slaps.
Did you ever see a scorpion in the wild? No, they're not native here.
What is the newest thing you’ve learned? Two nights back at Girt's, we were talking about their old dog Charlotte and how much she fucking adored Donald; both Ashley and Shelia said that she did not just love him, that dog was in love with him. Apparently Charlotte's ashes were buried next to Donald because that's what both would have wanted. ;___;
Name a state you have never been to, but would like to go to. Arizona, probably surprisingly. There is a number of native animals there I would REALLY like to see.
Name a word that people use locally that outsiders probably can’t pronounce. Conetoe. You said it wrong.
Describe your world in 5 words. CONFUSING, stressful, poetic (not in all ways, but I'd say definitely in many), melancholy, but mine and one of a goddamn kind so I'll take it.
What time did you go to bed last night? Uh it was before 12. We played Jackbox Party Pack games for a few hours with some of his online buds, but he also tried excruciatingly spicy ramen, more than he should've because the psycho didn't wanna waste it but also to "build up [his] heat tolerance" and I was like BUT WHY?????? is that necessary????? Thankfully he knew I was right so didn't finish it and then he just wanted to go to bed lmao, he felt like shit.
Who did you last ride in a car with? Girt. Bless him, it's a 30 minute drive to his place and he was BELTIN shit which I usually don't mind at all, but between driving to his place and back, I got such a bad headache lol.
Are you currently heart broken? No, my heart is fuller than it normally is.
Do you know how to change a diaper? I mean, to be completely realistic I could probably figure it out, but immediately? No. I have changed ONE diaper in my entire life and never will again (and that one wasn't even very dirty).
Would you be tazed for a million bucks? Yes.
What is the most annoying thing that your parents do? My mom is always 100% certain she's right. Disagreeing is disrespect. My dad can be weird and sometimes rude to people, and he has no concept of "there are people who can hear you other than me" in public.
Do you completely trust the person you’re dating? Yes.
When was the last time you received a hug? Who was this hug from? This morning, Girt.
Are you one of those people who like The Nightmare Before Christmas? I do, but nowhere near obsessively or even as much as people seem to think I do. The movie is fine, but it's nothing amazing, honestly. Coincidentally, both my phone's lock and home screen are scenes from the movie, lol. Just for the holiday.
What is your favourite type of nut? Idk, I really don't like nuts very much. I guess cashews, I can handle them fine in like, nut/grain/etc. bars.
Where did you eat the best pizza you’ve ever eaten in your life? Guys I am not fucking kidding, it was literally at an indoor trampoline park sort of place that hosts parties, lmao. We went there for Girt's nephew's party, and that pizza, everything about it, was BOMB.
Did you ever watch The Rugrats when you were a kid? Oh yes, loved it.
Do you know anyone who smokes in their car? Dad and Kim.
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emometalhead · 3 years
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✌🖤
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natsukitakama · 3 years
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Headcanon : Attention feat Kazutora Hanemiya
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author note :  I was obsessed with this TikTok and couldn’t kick it out my mind, now I’m not sure if it’s actually his Seiyuu who is dubbed it but it sure felt like it. I can’t breath anymore lol. It feels good to be able to write ngl. Enjoy ♡ 
-->If you’re curious you can find the TikTok right here 
Warning : SFW but I can make a NSFW version if you’re asking for it / It’s not Spoiler-free so  if you didn’t catch up with the manga you’ll be spoiled I’m sorry but stay safe ♡ 
Masterlist
i do not own those pictures they came from Pinterest so credit to their owner
it's kinda short to my apologies I would do better next time
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Kazutora Hanemiya 羽宮ハネミヤ一虎カズトラ
I can’t see him dating anyone before the time skip, even if we got proof that he was interested into people (we all see the way he was looking when he was at the beach). But during this time, he was a teenager more over he already a family, people who he cared about. He just didn’t feel the need to add a significant other, he has his family, he had Toman.
Now I’m not saying that he wouldn’t date anyone when he was a teenager but he was so focused on Toman on his family than I can’t believe he got time to date someone, especially since he was busy kicking ass with his friends Baji.
But no matter if you met him during his teenage, after he left the juvenile prison or when he left prison. You’re going to need some patience with him. He has lived a lot of things. He is still a broken man who is this close of loosing his entire mind.
I believe that I first you would be the only one working on this relationship, I mean you would do the whole flirty thing and at first he’ll barley interact with you. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t feel proud for your compliment and that he isn’t happy that you are interested in him. It just that everytime he felt close to someone, they either die or just left him.
He wasn’t sure if he was mentally, physically, emotionally ready for any kind of relationship
So yeah at first you would be the only to text/call first, you’ll be the only who is taking news might be the only one to think about where to go out together.
Most of the times you would feel insecure, after all he was so handsome maybe he just didn’t care about you ? Maybe you were bothering him ? Maybe he wasn’t interested in you and was just giving you a favor when he was answering back.
You would feel as if he didn’t care all as if your love was unrequited
But don’t worry about it, this situation wouldn’t last as long as you thought it would will.
His walls will finally shattered down and he’ll feel like he can finally be himself with you, showing you his insecurity, providing you all the love his broken heart got.
When this will happen, my my, you signed for the clingiest boyfriend of all time (top 3 at least)
I’m not kidding I just feel it, the boy got a lot of loves and needs to give and receiving (especially receiving).
You know those cliche movie where the boyfriend climb into your house so he could reach your bedroom ? He will do it, especially if he got free times and he felt lonely. Kazutora will just randomly climb into your bedroom and will knock at it with a lovely smile as if everything was normal (for fuck sake use the damn door baby boi).
He loves hugs whether he is the one who is been hugged of if you’re the one, either way he is fine as long as he gets close to you. Your warmth tends to relax him. He might even fall asleep if you’re stroking his hair or his neck (bonus point if you’re tracing the ink mark of his tattoo)
I feel like he loves kissing you too ? Like he just can’t stop kissing you ? He is an addict kisser. Like one day you were visiting him at the petshop dropping him a bento because you wanted to spoil your boyfriend. Even though he claimed to Chifuyu that he wasn’t tired 5min before you were here, suddenly he felt like he needs his 10min break. Guess who finds themselves being pushed against the wall as their boyfriends was kissing them deeply ? You. And he just didn’t kiss you once, no no that would be too simple, he will kiss you again and again one hand holding yours against the wall the other would be either on your cheek or on your neck. Good luck to find your breath after that. Believe me when I say that even when you were about to leave him so you could go back to school or whenever you were expected, Kazutora will take your hands in his to bring you against his chest to steal you a couple of kisses before finally leaving you.
Like I said he is an addict.
I can see him as the type to sometimes grab both of your cheeks with his hand and then kiss you, again and again.
He jus loves being close to you, so when you two are out for a date or just because you got the chance to meet him while you were going home. Kazu won’t hesitate and hold your hand stroking it with his fingers.
Holding hand is a minimum for him to best honestly
If he could he’d rather spend all of his time in your arms humming your smell getting warmth against you. But he can’t, so he is going to appreciate every occasion he got to get you close to him.
Since you’re his significant other Kazutora will be extra protector when it came to you, not afraid of threatening anyone that might be a bother to you.
Also he is jealous, he knows he shouldn’t feel like this especially since you’re always giving so much love and attention. But he can’t help but feel insecure, he knows what he is capable of, he knows his past, he knows what he has done, he is not perfect and certainly does not deserve love coming from such a piece of heaven like you. Yeah there would be time when Kazutora might be sad, feel down, and even though he’ll work on it so you won’t see it (afraid that you might be disappointed and will leave him) but you can tell that he is not feeling well.
Please, hold him tightly, tell him you love him, reminds him of much you cared about him, show him that there is no reason for him to be afraid. He just needs reassurance that you are here for good and that one day he wouldn’t wake up without you by side.
I just feel like he loves sleeping next to you, just the thought of sharing the same bed as him and getting the chance of waking up with you next to him is just his definition of heaven.
I also feel like is a tease, not on Mikey’s level, but I feel like sometimes out of nowhere Kazu will tickle you or whispering you something just to get to see your face turning red and then chuckle.
He is also the type to always give you his sweatshirt/coat, you don’t even need to be cold, if he noticed that you had been looking at his cloth or if you just compliment it boom its around your shoulder. It can be a way to show his possessiveness, like everyone would know that you belong to him who knows ? At least you won’t be cold.
He also the type to lay down on your bed and look at you with a loving smile, whether you were sleeping or not he doesn’t stop him from slightly stroking your cheeks bone, your cheek or even your lips loving the feeling of his hand/finger on your skin. It’s so smooth and soft he just can’t help.
Sometimes especially when he is sleepy, he will whisper things into your ear, kiss your all over your face.
A sucker for worshiping (do it for himself too)
Also he is not afraid to tell you he loves you, he might be not the first one to confess but once he knows that you love him. « I love you y/n » would be the first thing you will hear while waking up also the last thing before sleeping.
I think he might like the thought of you styling his hair even if all you’ve done was putting some cute clips on his hair he likes it and will even let you take picture. He is a sucker for your smile
Buy him jewelry and he will never take them off especially ring or necklace he just loves seeing you marking your territory.
As I stated before he is probably the type to overthinking a lot, like one day if you didn’t give the smile you used to give him, he is 100% you’ll dump him at the end of the day. Sometimes it’s not as bad as that, like you called him by his last name to tease him, he’ll just pout at you and then give you kiss all over your and won’t stop until you called him either by his name or by a nickname. But yes sometimes if you’re acting a little bit too cold to him he’ll think that your relationship is over, and will start to panic no knowing what to do to keep you by his side.
That’s the think with Kazutora he loves you more than he loves himself so he knows as a fact that he will be lost without you (not the only one to be honest but that’s for another headcanon)
So obviously you’ll need to be careful but since you’re still a human keep in mind to check him after if you’ve done something that let him think you guys were over.
Also, I can picture him to sometimes disappear. Like no one know where he is, not even you. He never left for too long (worst case : he leaves for a day), but sometimes he feels like he needs to be alone, like really alone. So he isolated himself for everyone, no one will know where he left, what he has done. But when he came back he always got that peaceful smile, the one where is eyes got nothing but regrets in them.
You feel like he spent his time in front of Baji ans Shinichiro’s grave, cause even years after this incident he couldn’t forgive himself for what he’s done to them. He can’t forgive him. Since he is lucky to be alive, sometimes he needs to see them in order to give him some strength in order to stay alive.
All the time when he is zoning out, you know he is thinking about all the bad things he has done to the people he cares the most, and even though he is working hard to be a better person what was done can’t be undone. Again hold his hand, stroke his hair do whatever you can to help him staying safe and not falling into his old demons.
Protect him at all cost.
Tag : @kshira
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taechaos · 3 years
Text
No More
from Textbook Love drabble series
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pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader
genre: dark romance, college au
synopsis: Perhaps love isn’t all you need to be with Jungkook. Maybe it's a sign you and him weren't meant to be.
warnings: fluff, daddy kink, public sex, degredation, mild angst
word count: 6.7k
a/n: dedicated to a good old gemini, known as pretzel anon. happy birthday! this was shit! 💞 can someone let me know if i made a stupid mistake i was really high while writing this lol
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If every couple goes at their own pace, how does one know if the relationship is rushed or a slow burn? What is considered a date, and how many do you have to go on to stop calling it a date? Maybe there’s a book called Dating for Dummies.
Jungkook has taken you out once: a fast food meal on the curb across your campus. Romance is subjective, so you thought it to be very romantic when he fed you a french fry under the streetlights while you were too stuffed to finish your food. “I paid for it,” he’d said, “so you have to eat it all.”
“I’ll eat anything from your hand,” you’d replied bashfully. He got a bit awkward after that, and you regretted saying it until he began feeding you and even holding your drink to your mouth. It was a successful first date, but you wanted it to last longer; feel your heartbeat out of rhythm with every smile he threw at you until the sun came up. Unfortunately for you, he walked you to your dorm a little after dinner.
Luckily for you, you know that wasn’t your first and last date. You’re going to ask him out for the second one because it’s a beautiful day outside and you’ve studied all morning for your finals to clear up your schedule for Jungkook. A walk in the park sounds nice, then a picnic, maybe he’ll even hold your hand! Is it too soon for another date though? It’s only been less than a day… 
You’re wearing your favorite outfit for the occasion: a pale blue floral dress that has a rectangular collar on the chest—without cleavage, God forbid—and sandal heels to match. You even styled your hair, and hopefully dressing to impress works; you don’t want him to say no. The current issue is finding Jungkook, and you don’t want to be that person, but you’re avoiding calling him in case you bust him with another girl by searching instead. It makes you guilty for having trust issues, but infidelity has its impacts.
Regardless of your internal concerns, you’re happily humming as you skip on the sidewalk, checking every corner for a certain someone. So far no such luck, and if he isn’t in his dorm, and if he doesn’t go off campus on Sundays, where could he be? In someone else’s dorm…?
“Stop,” you scold yourself with a roll of your eyes and continue your hunt. Next location: the back of the building. The front is cleared out, so is the dorm; what’s happening in the most secretive area? “God,” you sigh. Is this how your thinking process has always been? You hope it is.
The beat in your steps has gone missing when you’re rounding the exterior of the building because of your reluctance. You’re contemplating calling him until you see the back of a man with a girl in front of him by the benches, presumably kissing from the smacking noises. You clench your phone in your dress pocket as you watch them, hesitant to find out who the guy is.
“Jun–” Your voice goes quiet when you see the tattoo of a dragon on his shoulder, peeking out from his black loose tank top. It’s not Jungkook’s tattoo. You bite your lip and ignore the relief in your tight muscles; he’s dating you now, that’s what he said. It’s different, so there’s no point in worrying about his loyalty. 
You shake your hands off and walk faster to the taboo spot. There’s no point in worrying, there isn’t, not when he told you he would make it up to you. There’s no reason for your heart to race from expecting the worst when you make the final turn.
A shaky breath leaves you and a small smile follows when you see him smoking with his friends by the back exit. There are four people with him, Taehyung included, who is sharing a cigarette with him. He notices you first because he’s facing you whereas Jungkook is facing the clear forest across. He waves you over with a wide grin, his eyes lighting up.
“I see a pretty girl at 9 o’clock,” Taehyung says and Jungkook turns his head, the rest following his lead. You take tiny strides while approaching them and bite down on a shy smile.
“Hi,” you greet in a small voice. Your eyes immediately lock with Jungkook’s, who looks baffled.
“Hey yourself,” Taehyung greets back. “Care to share?” He holds a burning cigarette out to you with a slight bow, as if offering you a rose.
“She doesn’t smoke,” Jungkook answers for you without looking away. Is he displeased?
“Have you ever tried it?” he persists before inhaling the stick and blowing it in your face. You cough and hold a fist to your mouth, shaking your head. Jungkook slaps the back of his head before taking the cigarette from him and putting it out on the wall he’s leaning against. “You owe me a whole pack now.”
“Care to introduce us?” a guy you don’t know asks curiously. 
“Oh, right–”
Jungkook cuts him off before putting names onto the three strangers’ faces, Namjoon being the one who asked for the introduction, and when he comes to you, he says, “Meet… my girlfriend.”
“Thought you said she was a lousy nerd, Taehyung,” Yoongi comments before chugging from his flask. “Doesn’t look like it to me.” Taehyung chuckles uncomfortably before rubbing the nape of his neck as you tilt your head at him, the glint in your eyes never fading at Jungkook’s words.
“I didn’t get a close look at her before, didn’t know she was a real beauty,” he recovers with a flirt. Another slap on the back of his head. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” Seokjin diverts the topic. He appears very nice and seems to be the only one not smoking. His friendly smile puts you at ease and you politely tell him, “The pleasure is all mine.” Good first impression on all of Jungkook’s friends: check.
Your boyfriend ignores the interaction and stares at you until you gaze at him as well. “What are you doing here?” You can’t read his expression.
“I wanted to ask you…” you play with your fingers nervously, “if you wanted to go to the park with me?”
Jungkook quirks a brow as Namjoon and Seokjin wiggle their brows, Taehyung frowns, and Yoongi smirks. Quite brave of you to ask him out in front of his smoker friends, and it’s impressive that you play into such a role of textbook love: only caring about what your crush thinks. When Jungkook peeks to see their reactions, more or less weighing their judgement, he’s satisfied when he realizes none of them give a flying fuck about him being with a girl next door; someone outside of his type of rather than a free escort, really. 
He doesn’t care about what they think when he smiles down at you and says, “Let’s go.” You bounce on your heels when he swings his arm over your shoulder and walks away from the scene. The unsteady heartbeat is back for the same reason as last time, but you’re waiting to request something else.
The park near the university is peaceful with groups of friends hanging out; couples sitting on benches; the sun shining down on the trees and grass as you aim for the ice cream stand. You try to muster up the courage to ask him first, but you’re feeling courageous as you pull away from his arm and instead latch onto his hand and intertwine your fingers. You glance at him with a blush to see his reaction, but he doesn’t look at you and only squeezes your hand nonchalantly. His grip is tighter than yours. Maybe it’s from the heat, but his cheeks are tinted in a light pink shade. 
You stumble on your heels when you stare at him for too long, but you recover from a fall last second. He holds onto you anyway, furrowing his brows at your shoes. “High heels? Are you trying to reach my height?”
“You like them,” you giggle and continue your struts more carefully. When he frowns, you worry, “Do I not look good in them?” 
“Why would I like them if you can’t walk in them? You look pretty in flats too.” 
After a whole afternoon of eating ice cream, blushing at anything nice Jungkook said, listening to his music while sitting under the sun, the evening has come. Throughout the day, you were dreading the end of it because every second with him is so enjoyable. The warmth of his hand when you play with his fingers is a feeling you never want to forget, and you didn’t notice the little smile on his face when you were lying on his chest as he watched you do the most endearing and innocent thing one could think of. 
“So precious,” he’d thought. It makes the argument from yesterday feel all the more terrifying when he remembers how close he had gotten to losing this moment. It’s nothing he’s ever experienced or even seen before; plain jackpot.
You’re off the school grounds as you walk on the streets passing cafés with Jungkook, hands locked and feeling perfect. You wonder if he has ever done this with anyone before, but then he’s never been in a relationship. Who are the people that comment in his Instagram posts then? A question strikes you, and you admire his side profile as you ask, “You don’t like it when people call you– Ah!” Your balance wavers as you stumble again, this time falling on your knees after your ankle bends. With the pain tolerance of a baby’s, your eyes instantly water and you let go of his hand as you hold onto your ankle. It’s sprained.
“Shit, are you okay?” He crouches down and picks you up bridal style before sitting you down on a nearby chair. The café’s lights allow him to see the scrape on your knee and the bump on your ankle. “Hey, hey, don’t cry now,” he rubs your injury soothingly as he cringes at your tears. He doesn’t know how to comfort you as you whimper and sniffle. 
“Damn these heels,” you cry quietly. 
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your wording. “This is my second time hearing you swear. Swearing apparently helps with pain though. Say ‘fuck’.”
A chuckle leaves your mouth, but you decide to try it anyway; the throbbing muscle hurts too much. “F-Fuck.”
“Fuck these heels,” he encourages.
“Fuck these fucking heels,” you level. Maybe the theory is correct, because it feels slightly better when he laughs at your rare vulgarity. A minute passes with you trying to keep your tears at bay while he lightly massages your wound.
When he notices you calm down, he asks, “I don’t like it when people call me…?”
You sniffle and rub your eyes before saying a few seconds later, “Daddy.”
He blinks, stares at you, and his heart skips a beat. With your soft pout and red nose, you look so little to him. “... Yes?”
“Huh?”
“Oh,” he smoothly snaps out of his shock, “I don’t have that kink… Um, say it again?”
“Daddy?” 
It sounds different hearing it from you. Without the drawn out whine or the eggplant emoji next to it, and with your voice, it actually sounds cute. “What does that word mean to you?” he shifts the conversation with a subtle blush.
“I don’t know. You call a fatherly figure daddy, right? A man who takes care of you. People say it during sex too. You’re being a daddy right now.”
“Stop,” he warns lowly, “we’re in public.” He stands up from his kneeling position and picks you up in his arms again. “Have you ever called anyone that?” 
You clasp your hands behind his neck as he walks with ease, as if he isn’t carrying anyone in the first place. “No. My dad walked out on my mom when I was little, and I haven’t met anyone who treats me like you do.”
“Wait, you… think of me as your… daddy?” His eyes are wide and he’s gaping at the path in front of him with knitted brows. He looks so intimidating when you scrutinize his features, but you know he’s just flustered. You timidly nod against his shoulders. “Christ. Why?”
Your answer isn’t immediate because you don’t want to come off as too strong, but he’s impatient as he squeezes your waist. “I know you don’t want people to call you that,” you whisper understandingly, “but you’re so mean to others, and you hurt anyone who upsets you.” He rolls his tongue around his cheek uncomfortably. “Whether it be with words or actions. But you’re so sweet to me… You can be really rude, but you care a lot too. You don’t even smoke around me,” you laugh lightheartedly. 
“I mean, you are a baby. You make it difficult to not treat you like one,” he jokes with a hint of truth. You snuggle into his neck with a lopsided grin and your breath fans his tan skin. “I don’t like being an asshole to you, but I’m not exactly a nice person either.”
“You’re carrying me to my dorm,” you point out as a counter.
“I’m only nice to you; somewhat. And… I don’t like being called daddy by horny women, or men for that matter. I’ve never liked it, so I’m not exactly sure why I’m hard right now.” You tense against him. “Something about your sweet, innocent voice calling me daddy is really fucking hot.” He sighs to collect his thoughts; he can’t wait until he’s in your room. It would just be torture. “Did you get on birth control, baby?” He keeps his volume low in case of someone eavesdropping.
“Yes,” you mumble and grow nervous at what he’s thinking.
“Good girl,” he exhales and swiftly enters an empty alley between two restaurants. “Quite the slut too, telling me all this in a crowd.”
“I’m sorry,” you breathe as he presses you against the wall and has you wrapping your legs around his waist. He’s so thoughtful, carrying you even when he’s shaming you so you don’t put pressure on your injured foot. The shadows casting from the walls in the narrow space limits your vision, but you don’t need to see anything when he’s doing all the work by rendering you immobile from the press of his hips.
“Good choice with the dress,” he says while pulling out his belt and releasing the buckle. You hold onto him tightly without the security of his hands. He pushes his jeans down and has you towering over him by adjusting your position from the back of your thighs. Your breathing is quick and shallow from the anxious anticipation of the raw stretch, but he’s so nice to you today: he shoves your panties to the side and rubs your folds to collect your arousal as lube. He’s being thoughtful by relaxing your walls with his fingers first, and you bite down on a moan at the sensation. He’s still taking care of you by silencing you with a bruising kiss. 
“Thank you,” you sigh against his lips. His two knuckles are deep inside you as they curl and scissor. As nice as he is, he’s also very impatient and it’s not long before you feel his tip lightly poking at your entrance. 
“Ideal for a quick fuck.” He flashes a dazzling smile before it falters in order to concentrate on positioning himself. He closes his eyes and bites his lip as he slowly enters you, a lot more gentle considering the setting and knowing how vocal you get. A hum rumbles in his throat as you gasp when he’s halfway inside. When he bottoms out, he waits a few seconds for you to adjust before his rough nature returns. “You gonna stay quiet for me, little girl?”
“I’ll try.” Your heart is pounding in your chest when he leans in your ear, his breath tickling your neck. 
“You know that’s not what I wanna hear,” he whispers. He isn’t going to fuck you until you say what he wants, and your diffidence doesn’t make an appearance when his fingers are digging so hard into your thighs, his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s completely nestled inside you.
You lean into his ear as well, and meekly say, “I’ll try my best, daddy.” You can feel him shiver under your hands and hear him grunt, “God,” before he starts moving. Fast. You’d think he’s in a rush from how his pace picked up so quickly—roughly—but he may have just discovered his new kink. 
There’s no point in being quiet when the slam of his cock is enough noise deep in the alley, and he realizes that before you do. You’re bouncing in his arms, mouth open in a silent scream with only huffs leaving to not expose your doings, until he growls, “Say it again. Again and again.”
The chilly breeze from the night weather doesn’t affect you when he has you flush against him, and heat creeps all over your body not only from his hard and impatient thrusts but also from his words. “Daddy,” you whine, the same drawn out whine that he used to hate hearing; it makes his abs contract and clench now, a groan catching in his throat. He sounds almost animalistic, and your eyes screw back in pleasure. 
“Quiet, you fucking slut,” he reminds with a following moan. 
“I-I’m sorry, daddy,” you whisper in a strained voice. You can’t keep your vocal cords steady when he’s knocking the breath out of you every time he hits your cervix so deliciously. Jungkook’s a total paradox when he’s being so aggressive yet sweet at the same time, but it feels too good for you to complain. Your head is in the clouds when he bites on your shoulder to practice what he preaches: being quiet. 
“Do you love me?” Maybe that’s not the way you should go on about asking to hear his sweet nothings, because he bites you so hard that you feel his teeth break your skin. 
“The fuck kind of question is that?” he snarls. He licks a drop of your blood off of his lips when he faces you, but the bruising pistoning of his cock doesn’t differ; maybe slams into you even harder. “Hm? Answer me, dumb little slut.” He pinches your thigh cruelly, emitting a pained gasp from you.
 “I just want to hear you say it, please daddy,” you mewl. “I love you so much.”
“Keep fucking begging.”
You initially thought Jungkook became more honest and affectionate when you’re being intimate, but it seems that one word brings out a different side to him: wild and sadistic. Perhaps there are two sides of him being a daddy, one not so much of a fatherly figure. Controlling, dominating, and violent. You’ve received too many bruises in one night.
“Please, please, please, pretty please,” you comply in a cry and hug him tighter.
“Missing something,” he tuts with a breathless laugh. “I love you, stupid girl, more than anything.” He stops ramming into you, and the drag of his throbbing length loses its pace but not its strength. “So, so fucking much,” he strains before slamming into you one last time for his release. With him stuck brushing against your sensitive spot and his shaky moan, your lashes flutter and you clench down on him with the intoxicating wave of your orgasm coursing through your trembling figure. You whimper his name as his cum fills you, the warmth coating your walls while you lose your sense of awareness. 
“Stand on one leg,” he breathes. You know he’s referring to your safe foot, so you disentangle your legs from his waist and stand. The only sound aside from the drown out dialogues from the restaurants nearby is your panting. Though he’s just as drained of energy as you are, he adjusts your dress and underwear for you, even fixing your hair before he pulls up his pants and lifts you. “Don’t call me that around others by the way– especially Taehyung.”
“I promise,” you assure with a chuckle.
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The next day, a dreadful Monday, is not so bad when you get to link with your boyfriend and other friends by your usual spot on the benches. You don’t have a lot of lectures throughout the day, and you sit next to Jungkook who’s chatting with Taehyung and Yoongi after your long morning lecture in the afternoon. You peck his cheek as a greeting with a lovesick grin, and the former annoyed look on his face vanishes when he sees you. Soyeon and Minnie are close by, and thankfully there’s no tension between anyone. You’re forgiving, but you aren’t going to forget.
“So you two are actually back together, huh?” Taehyung says with a mocking smile. “What goes around comes around, Kookie.”
“Taehyung, you’re not making this any easier on yourself,” Yoongi murmurs.
Jungkook scoffs and rolls his tongue around his cheek—an irritated habit. “Well then Tae, I’m going to be polite and ask you to not be a homewrecker.”
“I have been hanging around Soyeon too much lately…” he jokes with a tilt of his head.
“Don’t turn this on me,” she says with a quirked brow, tone as soft as Jungkook remembers. You sit back and sigh at their bickering. “I didn’t know his name, you have no excuse to be flirting with her.”
“He isn’t–” You can’t get a word in when Jungkook agrees, “She’s fucking right, you know. Stop tailing around me to get a look up at her skirt.”
“I am not–"
“Oh for God’s sake,” Yoongi sighs like you do. Both of you share a guilty look, apologizing on each other’s behalf. It’s only when you start tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s arm that he finally looks at you.
“You like it?” he asks, a bit smugly. You nod with a tiny smile. His tongue darts out to lick his lips before he pecks yours, and says, “I’ll add your name to the collection. Thinking of inking my knuckles.”
A blush from his kiss, and a bashful smile from his idea graces your face when you cutely pout, “No…” He laughs at your very obviously fake denial and closes in on you, teasing in a whisper, “Yeah? You like that?”
“Look at you two being so adorable,” Taehyung interrupts with a dreamy sigh, “but I want ice cream.” He holds his hands up by his elbows on the oak table and leans his face on them with fluttering eyelashes. “Kookie? Ice cweam? Pwease?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jungkook winces at the disgustingly cutesy face he makes, and you release a humoured breath at the friendlier banter. “Go buy it yourself, moron.”
“I don’t have money and I want her tea on how you two made up,” he flutters his lashes again with his fingers intertwined; begging so silly. “Pretty please.”
“Now I’m definitely not going to leave you alone with her.”
“Baby,” you interject, and his eyes widen at the nickname. “I want ice cream too.”
He flashes a quick glare at Taehyung, easily giving into your needs with a sigh. “You’re paying, fuckface.” He snatches his wallet the moment it’s out of his pocket and walks off while spinning it between his fingertips.
“He stole my fucking wallet,” he frowns without offence. “Oh well. So…” his eyes trail to you with a mischievous glint, “you never smoked before, right?”
You shake your head, a bit curious—albeit amused—as to where he’s going with this. 
“You wanna know something? Jungkook reeeaaally likes smokers,” he stretches his hands for emphasis. It piques your interest, and you raise a brow. “I can teach you. We have to do it fast, before he comes from the store. Okay?”
“Um… okay,” you laugh as he switches seats from across you to Jungkook’s spot. 
He takes out his pack where his lighter is also stuffed as he speaks, “So what I’m gonna do is teach you how to shotgun.”
“You can’t do that with a cigarette,” Yoongi states in boredom, a plain contrast to Taehyung’s hyperactivity. “Don’t listen to him. He’s lying to you.”
“Oh, shut the fuck– okay, sorry, didn’t mean to say that.” He turns to you with glimmering excitement, “It’ll be easier on you if we do it with a shotgun.” You merely shrug because you don’t even know what that means. He sticks a cigarette in his mouth before holding up a hand to his lighter, inhaling until the tip burns. Smoke flies past his lips as he explains, “You inhale from the filter, but don’t inhale too much. You’re going to cough, maybe feel a little lightheaded since it’s your first time, but try to hold it in, okay?” 
Taehyung peeks behind Yoongi before shifting his attention to you. He takes another drag from the cigarette but doesn’t exhale. “Okay,” you say with a nod, sharing his excitement at a new experience that Jungkook could potentially approve of. You can rely on Taehyung’s honesty, though the bad memory from before leaves a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you’re ready to create better memories with him. He flips the stick until the filter is between your lips.
He wraps his lips around the tip and your eyebrows shoot up at the proximity. He holds your face between his large palms, and the cigarette is hidden behind his hands. He leans closer and nods at you, and you take the cue to inhale. You hear Yoongi blow out a deep breath just as you take in a shallow one. The urge to cough strikes you instantly, and you hold it in the best you can; your cheeks puff out as you slightly wheeze, and smoke leaves from both your mouth and nose. That’s when Taehyung pulls back, the intense eye contact gone, and you hear Yoongi scoff and the heavy footsteps of someone else. You cough into your hand when Taehyung slips it out of your mouth and holds it under the table.
“What the fuck?” Jungkook asks incredulously and throws three wrapped popsicles on the bench. You feel slightly dizzy when your small coughing fit ends, and you grow confused as to why your boyfriend is glaring at you with such intensity as his eyes flicker back and forth between you and Taehyung.
“Had to take you up on the homewrecker offer–” Taehyung’s sentence is cut off when Jungkook pulls him up by his collar, hesitates with his fist flying midway, then forcefully pushes him onto the pavement instead. He’s also confused– frantic, and doesn’t know what to do.
You’re semi-conscious of what he’s doing, but consuming nicotine for the first time leaves you feeling quite strange. You feel like you’ll stumble if you try to stand up, and slur if you speak, so you just wait it out.
“What– Why are you just sitting there?” he asks you with violent gestures. “What the fuck?” He holds onto his head, and all of your friends are quiet as they watch him. They must have missed you smoking for the first time. Yoongi waits for him to stop pacing.
“It’s not what you think, Jungkook,” Yoongi calmly tells him. What is he thinking though? “I know it looked–”
“The fuck it did! Right fucking in front of me? How the fuck are you so calm?” he yells. 
“Hm?” you say. He watches you in astonishment: bottom lip jutting out and brows scrunched. If he didn’t see you shamelessly kissing Taehyung out in the open, he would be doubting his own vision because of how unbothered you seem. It bewilders him; why aren’t you reacting at all?
“They weren’t–”
“It took almost one fucking week of dating for you to resort to this?” Taehyung is still on the ground as he sends you a warning glance, Yoongi is unbothered by the ordeal because he’s constantly interrupted, and Jungkook is fuming at you while you just sit there.
“I was just curious,” you relate to the cigarette that is still lit beneath the grass next to Taehyung.
An astounded laugh is his only response as Taehyung smiles at you, but you’re only looking at Jungkook. “And here I thought, like a fucking idiot, that you were the only girl unlike my mother. And you,” he looks at his old friend with menace, “show your face around me, and I won’t hold back again. God, I need to kill someone,” he sighs before storming off. So he doesn’t like cigarettes?
When the fog in your mind begins to clear up, you stand to go after him just as Taehyung blocks your path. “I need to tell him I won’t smoke again,” you try to push him aside, but he doesn’t budge.
He laughs. “It’s not about that. He thinks you and I kissed because I made it look like it.” Just as you’re about to confront him, he clarifies, “Listen, I just want his reaction on this, okay? Don’t you want him to feel how you felt when he kissed your friend?”
“I’m over that.”
“Are you though?” No, you aren’t. “Aren’t you paranoid? All nervous when he’s around other girls? Or even when he’s just not around you?” Your silence prompts him to continue, “You’ll truly forgive him if you take revenge. You know he won’t do it again if he feels the same way you felt.”
“But that’s cruel…” you try to reason.
“And what he did wasn’t?” 
Like the little devil on your shoulder, he enters your mind and reads it for his own agenda. What is his intention? Do what he couldn’t do with his ex? Is he… helping you? What he did was bad, so why aren’t you calling him out for it?
“What do I do?” you dodge his question. He knows the answer anyway.
He smiles with satisfaction. “Let’s talk it over a few cigarettes, hm?”
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Back to square one– no, square zero. At square one, you could at least interact with Jungkook, do his homework and have him kiss you when he was satisfied; you don’t have anything to do with him now. Taehyung warned you of this, told you Jungkook would start seeing other people and avoid you unless he wanted to hurt you. How he knows him so well is beyond you, because that’s exactly what happens in the next four days.
You watch him from afar like before, see that scowl on his face that you haven’t seen in a long time after you met. Only two aspects have changed: the eye contact and Taehyung’s lack of presence around him. Jungkook’s eyes are always on you, filled with so much disdain and hatred, even when he’s kissing another girl. Smoking stops you from crying because of how dizzy you get, and Taehyung is always with you – waiting. Both of you are waiting for Jungkook to do something, and it’s a surprise Taehyung still hasn’t been beaten to a pulp for just talking to you.
Maybe it’s a sign that you and him weren’t meant to be. In the span of a short while when you were together, only problems have surfaced. So much misery and anger in a relationship isn’t normal; it’s toxic. But you wait anyway.
“Look at him glaring at you with a girl on his lap,” Taehyung chuckles before lighting up his cigarette. He’s leaning on the wall next to the campus entrance with you.
“Nothing new,” you croak and take a drag from yours, coughing again. It’s déjà vu, if anything. One has to learn from their mistakes to reach success, right? This situation is just one of them for the better of your relationship. Has to be. 
“Worldstar,” he sings with a laugh. “I kind of miss hanging out with him, though; and the rest of my friends.”
“Yeah.” You can’t exactly pay your utmost attention to his words when you’re having a staring contest with Jungkook, who is practically devouring the unidentified girl’s mouth. It doesn’t sting as much as long as he has his eyes on you because you know what it means now: he’s trying to make you jealous. You didn’t know that before, but you didn’t know Jungkook as well as you do now before either. 
“I know what you’re thinking.”
“You somehow always do.”
Your reply humors him. “You want to go up to him, tell him what I did. But you know I’ll stop you.” His eyes squint as his cheeks hollow to inhale the nicotine. It’s a Marlboro Red, not exactly fit for a starter like yourself. You hate that you can’t even stand without using the wall as a leverage, but the effect is a necessary distraction.
 “Why are you… so invested in this?”
He shrugs. “It may not seem like it, but it’s going to help strengthen your bond. It also gives you enough time to stop liking him and fall for me instead, but that’s just a plus.”
“What?” you slur. The cigarette is hanging on for dear life between your fingertips because of how weak you feel.
“We should kiss– for real this time,” he blurts. “He’ll talk to you sooner. God, I really want to kiss you.” He drops his stick before grabbing your face and softly crashing his lips against yours. You don’t close your eyes, you don’t really do much of anything while he does what he wants. It goes on for twenty seconds before he slowly pulls back. “He’ll talk to you tonight,” he exhales. “You’re welcome.” He pecks you again.
You finally close your eyes and your head hangs limply. “You’re the real problem,” you murmur, “you keep tearing us apart. The villain.”
“That kiss was on me,” he admits, “but I’m just making you face reality. Sometimes you have to be the bad guy, right? Only reason I can smoke with you is because Jungkook cares a fuckton about me. I’ll make it up to you as well, when your relationship isn’t a fucking lie.”
Couples go at their own pace, don’t they? Maybe this is how long it’s supposed to take for you to be one with your betrayed boyfriend. This is the real beginning; Taehyung is just the catalyst. 
You see it when Taehyung is gone and Jungkook isn’t kissing back anymore. He isn’t even glaring. He’s just blank.
Perhaps love isn’t all you need to be with Jungkook.
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It’s late in the evening and the nicotine still hasn’t worn off. You haven’t moved an inch from your spot and neither has Jungkook from a distance, still on the same curb across. The girl left when she didn’t receive any responses from him for a minute straight. An emotionless “fuck off” was enough for her to angrily storm off.
You have no idea where Taehyung went and you’re sitting on the ground with your knees to your chest and hands on your sides. Jungkook is staring at you from the bench. You just need to wait because he’s going to approach you like his friend told you.
People aren’t in the yard so it’s mostly empty in the open space. The lights from the streets and inside the building you have your back against don’t allow you to see your boyfriend clearly enough. He doesn’t have an issue with making out your features though. That kicked puppy expression on your face is drawing him, but he hasn’t been cruel enough.
It’s been difficult treating you like shit, so he doesn’t bother. It’s pathetic anyway, more pathetic than having smeared lip gloss on his mouth that he hasn’t wiped off. He knows he shouldn’t be so immature – he’s twenty years old. He’s old enough to be able to communicate, but no one’s been making it easy for him.
He has to decide whether he wants to be with you or just end it all before he feels any worse. 
As the saying goes, no pain – no gain.
Jungkook slides down the wall and sits next to you after trudging in your way. It’s silent at first, and he doesn’t return your gaze when you look at him. You wait, and so does he. But he’s more impatient than you are; more hurt. 
“What did you see in him, for God’s sake?” His voice is tired; words merely a sigh. You stay patient. “I mean, right after I opened up to you? Why?”
“I was paranoid,” you croak quietly, as if you’re about to faint, “terrified of you being with someone else. Maybe if you felt what I felt…”
He lightly shakes his head. “No, you didn’t think of that on your own. You didn’t kiss him either.” You lean your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t want to smoke, didn’t want any of this to happen. What are you doing, my love?”
You sigh. “I didn’t do anything. I don’t do anything.” The issue is that you let yourself be manipulated and molded into anything Jungkook likes, but he’s never told you what he likes. “All I know is loving you. That’s it,” you shrug tiredly, “that’s all I do. Everything I do, I do for you.”
“I’ll ask you for one thing– okay, two. Scrub your fucking lips and never talk to that piece of shit again. I’m not friends with good people,” he turns to you, “I don’t want you around them. I’m stuck in a constant cycle of toxicity and you’re the only good fucking thing in my life right now. I don’t want you to smoke or talk with my friends.”
“Then why do you?”
He stammers, “I-I’m used to it, I don’t fucking know. I know how to protect myself, but you’re too… untainted for them. Look at us, we don’t even fucking dress similarly. You and I have nothing in common.” He huffs to himself and looks up to the sky. “If you know what’s good for you–”
“You are good for me,” you interject.
“Don’t fucking lie to yourself,” he scoffs at you, “I’m anything but good for you. Do I give a fuck though? No. I’m selfish, and I don’t want to lose you. But if you–”
“I don’t.”
“Okay.”
Another moment of silence passes. He’s the one to break it again. “I don’t want to have an issue like this ever again. No more infidelity, or whatever the fuck, no more silence. Communication, right?”
“Right. And no more getting involved with your social life.”
“Thank you,” he bows his head and licks his lips with a sigh. “I can’t deal with this again. I don’t want to leave like my dad, whore around like my mom; I just want to have normal fucking relationship problems.” His anxiety translates to his body language: nibbling, knee bouncing, cracking knuckles. He doesn’t like to talk about his family, friends or even you. You’re calmer in comparison. “Tell me… we’ll start over.”
“I’m not resetting my love for you,” you playfully nudge him.
The corner of his mouth curls. “Not like that. Let’s go back to you doing my homework.”
“Really?”
“I missed a fucking assignment today, okay?” he laughs. “I want to forget about all of this sad shit, you ever meeting my friends, Sooyen or whatever, all of it. Just you and me, okay?”
“Set our own pace,” you add with a nod. “No one interfering with our… bullshit.”
“Don’t fucking swear,” he puts a hand over your mouth and pushes your face with a wide grin. You giggle with him. 
Now that Taehyung and Soyeon’s over, there’s nothing left to chance with the involvement of someone else. Trust blooms instead, and it’s not so bad when Jungkook shares a cigarette with you as you take tiny puffs per his instruction. You are safe with him; not dizzy, lightheaded, manipulated, nothing. 
You’re happy, and so is he. Maybe that was the intention, but it means nothing. Taehyung sought vengeance through your relationship, and that’s that. No one can hold Jungkook against you when he’s in the palm of your hands, ready to tell you more than anyone else can offer. 
Jungkook’s love and trust: check.
When he flicks off the ash of his cigarette, you snuggle into him and whisper, “I love you daddy.” His ring glimmers under the moonlight as he pets your hair.
“Love you more, babygirl.”
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double-aa-batteries · 2 years
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Fic Rec Fridays - Week 2 - AUs
If you want to check out any of the other 3 fic recs you can find the master post here
Andreil
the sound by jemwrites on AO3 here (17k, 5 chapters)
The cottage looked unassuming and quaint, with a wooden ramp up to the front porch and rose bushes beneath the windows. A little sign was nailed above the door, reading The Foxhole. It seemed peaceful. Quiet
Its patrons, however, were neither of those things. Neil could already hear the raucous lot from where he was stood outside the door. Having never spoken to anyone outside of rare, whispered words to his uncle, or his cat, or his mother's grave, Neil knew this would be interesting.
A blond woman opened the door with a smile and glittering eyes. Neil's stomach rolled over itself. He hoped this wasn't a dumb decision.
TW: mentions of neil’s past and kevin’s. some minorly graphic descriptions of past abuse
its always you series by justdk / @dkafterdark on AO3 here (5 parts)
andreil high school au in a series of short  fics where neil is still on the run, squatting in abandoned houses, when he meets andrew. he hadn’t planned on staying in town so long but things get more complicated when feelings become involved
read tags in each part for TWs
you kind of do though by Rory_writes on AO3 here (4k, 1 chapter)
Unspecified alternate universe where neil and andrew meet later in life.
Someone breaks into Andrew's house one night, drunkenly looking for his friend and instead finding a cat and, well, Andrew. (+trans andrew)
no trigger warnings, mostly fluff and crack
Kandreil
Listen, all these kandreil fics just absolutely wrecked me and in my opinion are absolutely worth the read
the shore we'd come to find by JayJFox on AO3 here (17k, 4 chapters)
Kevneil are hiding from Riko after running away and break into someone’s empty house for the night. only...it isn’t empty. They meet andrew and stay with him, getting comfortable, until Riko makes moves and kevneil become worried for their own safety as well as andrew’s.
This is just. Fucking pure angst (with a happy ending). it wrecked me.
TW: Riko and Nathan and riko and nathan adjacent trauma
a brick to the stomach; a bullet between the eyes by fluorescencx on AO3 here (5k, 1 chapter)
Roommates AU
A 5k roller coaster of pure angst and neil pining for the two people he loves but can never have.
But could? have them? no. of course not.
it’s stupid, but he dreams about it anyway.
no trigger warnings, only angst and pining.
Nicky/Erik
i knew you were trouble (when you broke in through my window) by neilwrites on AO3 here (1k one shot)
AU where Nicky didn’t meet Erik in Germany
Nicky’s drunk and goes to the wrong apartment. Lucky for him, the person who lives in said wrong apartment is German and extremely cute.
no trigger warnings
Jerejean
farmer's almanac by cloud talking on AO3 here (3k, 1 chapter)
Soulmates AU
soulmates know everything that their other knows, excluding who they are. jeremy knox knows his soulmate is in danger and the world will burn as he changes that.
TW: Riko. takes place in the nest. but less trauma and violence than canon. knives
Kevaaron
picture perfect by officialstarsandgutters on AO3 here (22k, 1 chapter)
photography aaron and model kevin au
Freelance photographer Aaron Minyard gets a gig doing fashion photography for a catalogue, where he meets Kevin Day, typical arrogant haughty model asshole. Or so Aaron thinks.
More fluff than enemies to lovers, but enemies to lovers adjacent. Listen, this is just romance. These boys love each other. (+non binary Kevin)
TW: riko and riko adjacent things. graphic torture scene involving knives that is easy to be skipped if needed. kidnapping and drugging, talk of past riko regarding trauma and abuse. scars and talk of kevin’s broken hand. it’s all the usual until the near end where you needa watch out a bit
r u mine? by alex_wh0 on AO3 here (2k, 1 chapter)
Tattoo parlor AU
After two years of unrelenting silence, Kevin comes back into Aaron's life. Andrew is PISSED, Neil is secretly thrilled. And Aaron — Aaron doesn't quite know what to do. (+genderqueer kevin day)
TW: Riko. Again. That rat bastard. recount of kevin’s broken hand and talk of Kevin’s time at the nest
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my ultimate guide to thiam fic !!
( as a new teen wolf stan )
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the classic post war, long ass (multi chapter) fic !!with great development that genuinely made me laugh out loud, they have the best friendship in this & i love it very much. ( like theo teaches liam to drive and i just *happy sobs* ) a fundamental in thiam fanfiction !! all stans have probably already read it but if you haven’t this is in fact a threat ,, go show this vv iconic story some love !!
Airplanes - Captainmintyfresh
Summary: After the Anuk-ite and the hunters are dealt with Liam needs a break. Cue Theo and a road trip that Liam should know better than to think will be peaceful.
Not Rated, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, 43/43 Chapters, Words: 236,875 (236k)
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okay okay so this one is also post 6B !! but ,, now we introduce fighting monroe & the hunters again ,, so we get the boys & a new mission !! so if you like an intresting plot 11/10 would recommend !! just to be clear this ISN’T complete ,, if that turns you off i understand but definitely give this one a read !! it litterally have theo doing crossword puzzles & fighting zombies
Vacancy Signs - LovelyLittleGrim
Summary: Theo and Liam are in Manhattan negotiating a pack allyship when the zombie apocalypse breaks out. Now, the two of them have to find their way back to Beacon Hills without getting eaten by zombies or killing one another.
Rated: Explicit, Graphic Description of Violence, Not Completed, 15/17 Chapters, Words: 89,605 (89k)
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Royalty AU !! I REPEAT ROYALTY AU !! a fantastic au where i stan their moms more than i stan them !! genuinely so good at the childhood rivals to lovers trope !! i’m genuinely obsessed with this one. has made me cry more than once ,, hurts in a good way <3 the ending is just *chefs kiss* also one of the tags is genuinely: # theo and liam make bad choices for over 130k straight !! if that doesn’t sound appealing i don’t know what does !!
Artificial Love - songbvrd
Summary: Prince Theo and Prince Liam are forced to spend every Summer together from age five onwards. They hate each other, and usually find ways to make each other miserable as much as possible in their six weeks together. But when they're reunited because of intended unions as adults, things change. They're both supposed to be married to noble women, but neither of them is as interested in anyone else as they are with their childhood rival.
Rated: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, Completed, Chapters: 32/32, Words: 172,935 (172k)
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so if you are in the mood for a crack fic that’s not explicitally a crack fic this is for you !! okay so i’m really hit or miss with AU’s ,, sometimes i feel like they don’t quite capture the characters right but this story have the BEST dramatic liam i have ever seen in my life !! basically they all live in the same apartment building & it’s fantastic !! i saw this one floating around a lot but the summary didn’t really unrest me until i have it a shot !! so go read it rn !! also nolan & brett are genuinely fantastic and make me wheeze ,, LIKE ACTUALLY VERBALLY LAUGHING !! all i’m gonna say is that my fav characters are scott & the beetles but that won’t make actual sense until you read it !!
The Neighbors Song - TheodoreR
Summary: “I always hear you singing on your balcony every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?”
Or the one where Theo annoys Liam every morning with his awful singing until he doesn’t anymore and Liam is even more annoyed. Liam hates every single thing about his mornings -the fact that they happen in the morning alone is enough. The thing Liam hates the most about his mornings though is the terrible voice of the guy who lives below him. He can’t sing for shit and Liam tried to politely let him understand that by throwing flour and water on his balcony, and also by shouting it to him, you can’t sing for shit!, and then by writing it into a note he proceeded to attach to his door, but this Raeken guy just keeps doing it, every single morning, like a fucking rooster. Liam did nothing to deserve this. He probably didn’t do anything to deserve better either to be fair, he doesn’t expect to open his window and be welcomed by some angelic voice singing him good morning, he’d just be happy with nothing. Silence. That’s something Liam can appreciate in mornings. Just some bark from his dog and the sound of his misery and that’s it. But no, god forbid the new guy lets him have that.
Rated: Explicit, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Wanrings, Completed, 8/8 Chapters, Words: 42,814 (42k)
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me: i’m not a big fan of AU’s ,, proceeds to talk about ANOTHER au… OKAY BUT THIS ONE !! it’s not complete but the author has been updating regularly ,, vv slow burn !! but in a REALLY intresting way !! i lOVE LIAM IN THIS SO MUCH ,, he is such a diaster of a person and it’s wonderful !! they have a great dynamic & i’m sucker for general puppy pack content ( and erica reyes being a badass ) !! also theo plays lacrosse in this & i really like it ahhhhh ,, also liam is just being an artic monkeys stan the whole time & theo is like *que confused repressed gay noises*
Inglorious Roommates - honeyscape
Summary: A roommate is defined as “a person with whom one shares a room.”
Theo would say a roommate was more along the lines of, “The person who's the bane of his existence. The weirdo that sleeps for days. The spaz that exercises at 3am. The guy with a revolving door of annoying friends. An insufferable human being that Theo has no control over living in his room.”
Example: Theo hates his roommate Liam.
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okay okay i hate myself but i have another WIP for y’all !! this one is jUST FANTASTIC. i’m genuinely so upset it’s most likely not going to updated again *incoherent screaming ensues*. for this story ,, it’s very theo-centric bUT thats bc it ends right before liam becomes a concrete member of the story !! ANYWAY: basic plot = theo & acquiring not one but two children ,, so #dad theo but he is still crusty & homeless and i love him very much. it’s just so GOOD !! just read if you want to experience my fav theo coming out story & him etching high school musical
Look who's talking - Captainmintyfresh
Summary: Theo had been labeled many things in his life. Evil, failure, monster. He'd never thought Father would be one of those things but as he looked across the table to a six year old with blue smears of bubble gum icecream across her face trying to coax the first words out of her sister. Finger jabbing towards Theo's face as she repeated 'Daddy' again and again he couldn't bring himself to dispute the label.
(Theo accidentally adopts two young werewolves)
Not Rated, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings, Not Completed, Chapters: 16/?, Words: 48740 ( 48k )
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so here me out: post-canon ( poetry like angst ) summer get away !! just the boys doing cute little domestic things together whilst pining !! theo’s guilt in this is just so powerful & aGjffkgkkfkvkdlv !! i think it’s so interesting to see how they interact in this one, it’s just very heart warming !! and it features one of my favorite niche teen wolf tropes of theo being great with like seven year old girls- it’s just so good ,, very much a wonderful little one shot that just makes your heart happy.
(next time i see you you'll show me) a hundred different ways to say the same things - cherrysprite
Summary: “...You deserve good things,” Liam says eventually. He makes sure not to look at Theo even though he can feel his eyes turn on him. Somehow he can already tell that Theo doesn’t believe him.
Liam instantly makes that the goal of this summer - making Theo believe him.
Rating: Teen and Up, No Archive Warnings Apply, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 28875 ( 28k )
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okay so this next section of fic recs is a bit different !!
two of my favorite authors !! and a compilation of fics i’ve read by them both !!
for context: these two have written some genuinely gorgeous fics, like pure poetry, they explore the real gritty & scary side of our boys relationship in such a wonderful way. they’ve both used some of my favorite tropes & i love them very much !!
whenever i need something soothing but so genuinely intresting & enticing these are my go to !! ( also they both write a lot of good nolan angst & some vv good fics with hayden )
go check out:
eneiryu
as well as fallingforboys
here are some of my favorite fics by them ~
darling i want you here in my arms (kiss the pain away, i know you can) - fallingforboys
even before you touched me, i belonged to you (all you had to do was look at me) - fallingforboys
memories linger like tattoo scars (but your touch on my skin is just as permanent) - fallingforboys
skin, bones, a stolen heart, and an ugly creature lurking underneath -fallingforboys
i don't know how to breathe in the place i called home - fallingforboys
whisper your gossamer truths into the shadow, maybe you'll find the answers you're searching for - fallingforboys
between the mountains and the valley we built a monument to our regret - eneiryu
cracked the hinges of the cage and waited for you - eneiryu
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okay and finally: since i am a self centered whore
my own fic: an rendition of the # elevator scene
it’s basically my version of post canon if we did get the kiss in the elevator. we got a classic liam pov in which he is has 12/10 for extreme bi diaster energy even whilst being shot at !! so go him ig…
Fuck Off, Fuck This & Fuck It! - nefelibata_peach
Summary: Liam thought to himself heart rate climbing, they were bound to be dead by morning. So he thought with everything but his brain and he kissed him.
Where Liam Dunbar is very confused, slightly traumatized, and just a bit scared but hey, aren't they all! Bad decisions ensue as two boys fight in a war they never did sign up for.
Rating: Teen and Up, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Chapters: 1/1, Words: 3558 ( 3k )
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Love Delivered To Your Doorstep
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Evan Buckley x Reader
Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context) 
Category: fluff for the most part. 
Word Count: 3.9k
Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do. 
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Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication. 
Letters had always been more of your thing. 
Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him. 
When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30. 
You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter. 
You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving. 
You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment. 
September 30th.
‘Hi baby! 
Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon. 
I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ? 
Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :) 
I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.
Write me back soon, I love you. 
Yours always, y/n’
You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.
October 22nd. 
‘Hi y/n,
This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure.  I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.
Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back. 
Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor. 
Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming) 
Peace out, 
Evan.’
To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.
The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind. 
November 4th. 
‘Dear Evan, 
I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you. 
To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status
Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter. 
Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up. 
Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer. 
Anyways, signing off for now. 
Yours always, y/n. 
ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.
Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’
Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet. 
December 21st. 
‘Hey y/n, 
Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me. 
I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now. 
How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun. 
I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now. 
Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description. 
well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ? 
Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n. 
Peace out, 
Evan. 
ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’
January 13th. 
The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it. 
Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.
‘Dear Evan, 
Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ? 
I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go. 
How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories. 
As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had. 
But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah) 
I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present? 
I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.
Yours always, y/n.’
He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country. 
February 12th. 
2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it,  a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name. 
‘Hey y/n!
Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas. 
My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me. 
Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell) 
Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ? 
So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it. 
The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it. 
Peace out, 
Buck’ 
The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash. 
‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n
Love, Buck.’ 
You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there. 
*4 years later*
A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August. 
4 years had blown like nothing.
It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it. 
Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now. 
He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall. 
She must be his new neighbour.
He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that. 
Except, she was still busy. 
She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile. 
Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n. 
---
Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties. 
A fresh start. 
It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into. 
It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates. 
Buck’s last letter to you. 
You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing. 
‘Dear Buck, 
I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change. 
Guess where I decided to go ? 
Did you guess yet? 
No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ? 
LA! 
Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.) 
Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ? 
I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first. 
Yours always, y/n.’ 
Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye. 
It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor. 
The unit number was the only difference. 
There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in. 
You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address. 
Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall. 
Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years. 
The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you. 
Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door. 
Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up. 
“Sorry, did I wake you?” 
“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door. 
“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?” 
“I am, who are you ?” 
“Y/n.” 
You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled. 
“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar. 
“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer. 
“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter. 
“Water’s fine, thanks” 
He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you. 
“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile. 
“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?” 
“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose” 
“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums. 
“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before. 
“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?” 
“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact. 
A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer. 
“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?” 
“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.” 
“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles. 
“Buck, we live in the same building.” 
“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other. 
“Okay.” 
----
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