#but sometimes people act like admitting there’s a single good thing about a person who’s been shitty is impossible | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceruleancattail · 9 days

Note

I see your requests are open and I haven’t made one in a long time. Feel free to not write about this because I am a sucker for only one or two aus🥹I’m just boring like that. I feel like I’m a regular at a cafe that asks for the same thing- I’m so sorry😭🙏

Firstly, HOW ARE YOU and take your time with these requests💖🫶 may I ask for a Nightfall Leona and Floyd? Maybe diving deep into their relationship with the reader? Or how about reader catching them in the act (of their evil deeds perhaps👀) how would Leona and Floyd react?

Nah you’re good! It’s like having a familiar face drop by and I already have the order ready to go. It’s a comforting thing, like a set routine? Please don’t feel so bad about it! I really took my time with this oops-

Nightfall Au

General Headcanons for Leona and Floyd

Leona x reader, Floyd x reader

Tw: death, gore, kinda yandere because it’s a Ceru fic, of course it is-

Leona Kingscholar

The boss of Savanaclaw.

He’s very practical in the way he runs the gang. Moving men around with a hooked finger, shifting them like pieces on the chessboard. Unfortunately, he does value each and every one of them, which makes him such an interesting person to work with.

He’ll never admit it though. Always muttering about doing things with the least amount of effort needed in his part… although his operations always seem to have the least causalities as well.

Leona knows the names of every single person who’s in Savanaclaw. He’s memorised them, actually. However, if you ever mention it, Leona’s face takes on a more sober shade.

“Ain’t nothin’ much. At least I’ll know what to put on their tombstone.”

How did he discover the Lantern?

Leona has made a habit of wandering about at night. There aren’t too many people out and about then, and those who are, were normally too drunk to care about him. For a while, Leona’s just another person on the street. It suits him just fine, really. He’ll pick a lonely corner shrouded in shadow, watching people stagger by silently. Quietly observing, taking note of each person’s pace, the way they carried themselves.

As tiresome as people were, reading them like a book was something that came naturally to Leona. Although like with every skill, it has to be practised and honed, lest the blade of talent turns dull.

Sometimes, he gets a little peckish. Walking about in the dark does that to a person. By chance, he walks by the Lantern. A 24 hour cafe, lights still twinkling from within glass doors. He pauses in front, watching the person manning the counter. How hardworking, they seemed to be. A little anxious as well, rearranging pastries over and over again. It was a rather adorable sight.

You’d piqued his interest, rather you like it or not.

Relationship with Him

It feels like he exists just to frustrate you, sometimes. Leona takes forever with his orders, dragging a crooked finger across the menu. He often has the most ridiculously convoluted orders ever, with a seemingly endless list of requirements. He likes watching your lips curl in frustration, as you mutter his order quietly under your breath.

How you’re so clearly annoyed with him, but you’re still rushing around the kitchen all the same, determined to fulfil whatever he says. It’s almost as you take it as a personal challenge.

Leona likes to watch you bustle around, pouring out your very heart into the meal. There’s a passion burning behind those eyes as you busy yourself with his order. There’s little he misses, especially if it’s about you. Your little habits in the kitchen, the way you hold your utensils… Leona sees and remembers it all.

He also doesn’t miss the gleam in your eyes and you place his order before him, beaming at a job well done. That pride you take in your work is rather respectable. Your smile then is also pretty cute, honestly.

As much Leona likes to tease, you hardly feel any malice from his actions. It’s almost as if you’re being batted around softly by a cat’s paws, a treasured possession. Something to amuse him, for a while. Yet there was a warmth behind his expression, whenever you met his gaze. An almost tender look.

Ever since Leona started frequenting your cafe, tools haven’t seem to be breaking down as often. Heck, you don’t even remember having this much silverware. It’s almost as if they multiply by themselves every week… how strange.

Probably nothing much… right?

If He’s caught in Red-Handed

Leona doesn’t take drastic measures to appear like a normal citizen. Lying to you would be too much of a bother, so what he does is to mislead you. If you question about his occupation, Leona just says he runs an organisation. He’ll not elaborate much, only keeping things to short sentences and grunts, neither confirming nor denying any of your questions.

Although if he’s finally caught in the act, it would probably in the name of protecting you or the cafe. Calmly shooting someone who dared to attempt a robbery in the Lantern point blank, without even so much as a change in expression. Leona would simply call up some of his men to clean up the mess.

Don’t worry, no crime will be linked back to you, so don’t worry your lil’ head, herbivore.

If you’re shocked, he’s just going to laugh at the way your eyes widen. Did he ever tell you what he did? No? So why are you surprised by this? Whatever expectations you have in your head, dash them.

He’s a murderer, and that’s what he’ll stay as.

Chuckling coldly, he’ll simply tuck his payment under his cup, before walking off into the night. Having people target the cafe means that you’ll be in danger. So Leona will simply take his leave. Let those ruffians chase him instead.

He’ll still keep tabs on you, watching from building rooftops, from within parked cars. Leona’s still staring wistfully into the kitchen you roam within. Even after all his big talk, he’s the one who can’t leave you.

Although if you were the one who was attacked, you’ll get to see the brutality of Leona Kingscholar. A shot to the head was too merciful for scum like them. Leona’s arm snakes around your waist, yanking you closer to him. While he fires round after round into the attacker’s thighs, rendering them immobile. What happens next? Leona wouldn’t let you see.

He’ll yank you into his coat, shielding your eyes from whatever gruesome scene awaits before you. A part of him feels a pang of pain at the way you shiver and tremble within his grasp. You’ve been led to believe the great big cat who frequented your store was docile. Now, you’ve seen his fangs.

For once, you’re afraid of the lion.

You won’t have any say, if this happens. Leona’s dragging you into a car and taking you… somewhere. Somewhere “safe”. Everything you need from your house? He’s sending men over right now to grab everything they can. You were almost murdered on Leona’s watch. You can bet he’s worried to death about your safety now.

You’re just some herbivore, after all. If he wasn’t there… no. He was there. And he’ll always be, from now on.

You’ll never leave his side ever again.

Floyd Leech

The famed loose canon of Octavinelle, Floyd Leech. Dual wielding a pair of destructive guns, he’s famed for the absolute blood baths he leaves behind. He’s who Octavinelle sends whenever they want to make a statement. Whether it’s to threaten rival gangs to return what they’re owe, or to destroy them entirely, Floyd’s the guy for the job.

The only problem is that he’s a little too unpredictable for fine operations. If you make him wait too long, he’s stepping on the gas and leaving you far, far behind in the dust. Not the best trait you’ll want in a getaway driver.

As crazed as people make him out to be, Floyd can be reasoned with. He actively ensures that whatever deals he deals are “fair” in the loosest sense. Both parties have to gain something, in order for it to be called a deal, after all.

If something’s a waste of time, Floyd would tell you that straight up. Was it him being kind, or could he just not be bothered to lie? Nobody really knows.

How did he discover the Lantern?

He was probably hungry. For those who lurk within the shadows, the night is the best time to work. After all, it’s called the “dead of night” for a reason. It’s already dead, so what’s the difference of adding more deaths to that phrase?

The problem is that not a lot of stores are open at these ungodly hours, and Floyd’s pretty sick of eating instant meals. Sure, they’re tasty, but if you eat enough of them, they just feel… dry. Empty, in an odd sort of way. Also, if he eats too much, he’ll feel sick, so no thanks.

So he’ll drag himself from street to street, searching for something to satisfy his grumbling stomach. Until he spots a light in the distance, and the heavenly scent of freshly baked bread waft into his nostrils. His gaze flickers up to a signboard before him.

The Lantern, huh? The worker’s kinda’ cute. Scampering here and there like a lil’ shrimp caught up in the currents. Hey, maybe he’ll call them shrimpy.

Guess he could give this place a try. Anything’s better than eating out of a plastic box again.

Relationship with Him

Floyd pesters you all the time. Leaning over the counter, fiddling with the bell until you come out. Even then, you have to physically pry the bell out of his hands for him to stop ringing it. He’s stubborn, though.

So both of you end up in a wrestle for the bell, fingers slipping and pulling away. Floyd plays dirty, though. He’ll hold it high above your head so you’ll have to jump and try to reach it. He’s laughing all the while. Yet there’s a weakness in that tactic you exploit daily.

His sides. You’ll jab and tickle him until Floyd’s laughing hysterically, and the bell will drop. These little tussles add some colour to your day, at the very least. After a shift of standing idle, a playful fight helps to get some blood pumping. As much as you grumble about it, you have to admit that it’s fun.

Floyd always seems to pop in at odd hours, so most of the time it’s just you and him. While you’re whipping up his massive order (how can one guy eat that much?), Floyd’s doing some redecorating. Pushing all the tables together to form one big table, arranging the chairs so there’s two of them, facing each other.

Sometimes, if you’re shorter than him, he stacks up the chairs as a personal jibe at you. If you’re taller than him, now he’ll stack up his own chairs, so he towers above you.

Floyd always shares half of what he orders with you. Even if you refuse, he’s grabbing you by the wrist and forcing a spoonful of desert into your mouth. How is it? Isn’t it so good? Y’know, Floyd does really like the cooking here. He does appreciate the effort you put into each and every single thing you serve, so what better way to thank you than to encourage force you into taking a break?

Besides, there isn’t anyone else in the store now. Just you and him. Aw, you went all red when he said that. Hopeless romantic, huh?

That’s cute, shrimpy.

If He’s caught Red-Handed

Floyd’s another guy who would simply not care. Ask him no questions, and he’ll tell no lies. He effectively hushes your endless inquires with howling laughter, before his voice drops:

“Do you really want to know?”

He’s not against telling you what he does for a living, but Floyd wouldn’t want to scare you away… too soon, at least. Although, he drops a few hints here and there sometimes, just to see that flicker of panic flitter over your expression. Allowing you to catch a small glimpse of his holsters, rolling up his sleeves to reveal arms filled with tattoos swirling around his arms.

Sometimes, he’ll come to the Lantern all battered up. Nothing too drastic, only a few cuts and scrapes all over his skin. He’ll throw his arms over your shoulders, whining about how much it stings, how much it hurts until you cave in and give him some attention.

Floyd loves it when you tend to his wounds. Every touch gentle, pressing softly into his tender skin. Even your chiding sounds melodious to his ears. Man, you’re really worried about him, aren’t you?

He’s silent during those times, content with watching your hands wash and dress his wounds. Your fingertips brush against his hands sometimes, a warm caress. It’s gone all too soon, warmth vanishing into the air. Floyd’s left craving for more, long after your hands leave his skin.

Your warmth, your touch, your love… Floyd just wants it all. But he’s not rash. He’ll wait patiently for you, until the lil’ shrimp wanders into his clutches themselves… then he’ll engulf them in his embrace then. He’ll wait.

Of course, that is if you’re safe.

For Floyd, no matter whether it’s the Lantern or you that’s attacked, he’s seeing red. The Lantern was your workplace. It could have hurt you, killed you-

There’s no reasoning with Floyd on this. He’s not even going to bother with calling backup. He’s holding up both of his guns, sending bullet after bullet after the attackers with a deathly calmness. Floyd fires again and again, until the click of his guns alert him to the lack of bullets within.

Oh, if they attack you? Floyd’s pulling out all the stops. He wouldn’t even bother with a gun, effectively tackling the attacker with his arms alone, disarming them with a sharp slap to the wrist. A sadistic grin spread across his lips, you’ll have to close your own eyes as he snaps the poor attacker’s arms.

It’s messy, it’s gruesome, it’s cruel.

A pair of wet hands grab at your hands, staining your fingers a bright crimson red. Hey, why are you looking away? There’s no need to be scared now, Floyd took care of it. They were going to do so much worse to you, Y’know?

His arms snake around your torso, pulling you gently towards his torso. Floyd’s doing his best to be all soft and gentle to you, and you know that. But it’s hard not to be afraid of those same soft and tender hands, once you’ve seen them quite literally rip a person apart.

Aw, you’re trembling, Shrimpy! Relax, Floyd’s going to bring you somewhere safe. Somewhere that’s just you and him.

Isn’t that just so nice of him?

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halfagone · 7 months

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Is Good Parents Maddie and Jack Fenton even possible?

Specifically, would they be able to change their mindset after over twenty years of bigotry and scientific curiosity?

If they saw their human son turn into Phantom, would they still think of him as their kid? Would they love him, accept him and support him?

I, personally, can't see the canon reveals as anything but a kid friendly compromise of giving the viewers the satisfaction of a reveal and keeping the status quo of the light-hearted show going.

But with everything the Fenton parents did, said, and invented... is it possible for them to turn their backs on their research and start from scratch? To admit that they were wrong after decades of being called quacks, crazy and idiots?

The only thing they were right about was the existence of ghosts, but now they endangered the whole world by building their portal that half-killed their son and traumatised millions of people.

So. Is it possible to write a Good Parents Jack and Maddie fic that doesn't shy away from all the awful things they did and how would you go about it?

Thank you for your time!

The short answer: Technically? Yes. Realistically? Probably not.

The long answer: Everyone is capable of change but not everyone will. For all intents and purposes, they are capable of growing as people and learning to recognize their mistakes and biases and leaving those behind... It just likely wouldn't be a simple flick of a switch. At the same time there is reason to believe that the Fentons wouldn't change their minds.

You said it yourself, over twenty years they've acted like this and so logically you would begin to assume that's just how they've always been and always will be. That shows this goes far beyond their parenting style and skills, and has everything to do with who they are as people.

(Buckle up, this one's a long post.)

We don't actually know all that much about the Fenton parents in canon. We don't see any grandparents or relatives other than Aunt Alicia. Although we have headcanons as a fandom that Jack and Maddie have ghost-related trauma, or it's a family tradition from the Fenton side with Jack Fentonightingale, to explain why they've always been like this, that is still no canon confirmation. (Fentonightingale was a witch hunter, not a ghost hunter after all.)

As far as we are aware, for one reason or another, one day Jack and Maddie started to believe ghosts were real and not just real but malicious. I may not be a scientist by career but even I can tell you they've failed in their duties as scientists the moment they chose their hypotheses over the evidence. That is literally something they teach you in high school science class; you ask a question and then research for evidence supporting that question. (Otherwise known as the "if... then" statement.)

Sometimes that means your first assumption was incorrect, but the evidence cannot be changed. So to me, the Fenton parents aren't ghost scientists, they're ghost hunters and those implications have connotations all of their own. And those connotations reflect poorly on them. And this isn't even to mention their general lack of workplace safety.

When we look at their friendships- they have no friends. They had Vlad in college, but they fucked up that relationship and don't even seem too broken up about it. They hadn't spoken to each other in twenty years until the reunion, and they obviously knew he'd made something of himself; Jazz recognized his name from Billionaire of the Year I think the magazine was supposed to be or something.

When Jack explains what happened to Vlad in "Bitter Reunions", he literally mentions how he thinks Vlad has forgiven him now. So obviously he acknowledges that what happened between them was due an apology.

Do you know something that's noticeably absent? A single apology from either Jack or Maddie. Yes, Jack might be more at fault in his accident, but Maddie ignored him for twenty years too. Vlad can talk whatever crap he'd like about Jack, but Maddie is just as culpable in his 'abandonment' as her husband is. We have proof from "Masters of All Time" that Maddie isn't afraid to go behind her husband's back and do what she wants. If she truly cared about him, she would have made an effort and she never did.

But of course, now we have to talk about them as parents. That's where things get... a lot more complicated.

In "Maternal Instincts" at one point Maddie is shown carrying Danny piggy-back style. It's never explained, it's not played off as a joke. Danny isn't injured and neither is he faking an injury. It's literally just something Maddie did, probably with the idea that she's taking care of and protecting him. And Danny isn't embarrassed by it at all, even when he's been shown to be ashamed of some of his parents' other antics.

In "Girls Night Out", Jack takes Danny fishing as a father-son bonding activity. And I mean that literally, he got the idea from a book called 'Father/Son Relationships For Stupids!'. That might imply that he's a bad parent but that also goes to prove that he's aware of his shortcomings as a father and is genuinely trying to do more for his son. Not everyone comes to parenthood naturally, so for Jack to actively search for advice- even if it comes from a book- says that he wants to do this parent thing.

But in my opinion, the episode that best reveals how the Fentons function as a family is "The Fenton Menace" (and no, that's not just because my blog description references it lol). In that episode, we see Jazz's failings as a supportive sister almost from the very start; in her opening narration, she talks about how she knows his secret and yet when he insists through and through that he sees a ghost, she still thinks she knows better/otherwise. We also get a touching moment where Maddie talks about spending quality time with the people you love (which is a line almost word for word from the show, by the way).

However, there are two things that stand out the most from this episode. This is the episode where we get the line: "Whether it's air, land, or sea I won't stop until we capture a ghost and tear it apart. Molecule by molecule." In response to this, Danny gets visibly upset. It is probably one of the most damning pieces of evidence in the entire series that his parents' behavior genuinely bothered him. He makes jokes about them shooting or experimenting on him, but humor can and often is used as a coping mechanism. After that quote? Danny didn't try to hide his reaction until later on when Jazz asked him. And even then he dismisses it with a quip.

The second thing from this episode also so happens to feed into my main point for this entire argument: This is the episode where Jack and Maddie attempt to 'spin the crazy' out of Danny. That kind of behavior is something you'd find in places like Arkham Asylum, which is notorious for their inhumane treatment of its patients. Decidedly not something you expect to see from supposedly loving parents. That absolutely constitutes as cruel and unusual punishment and yet it's not even meant to be a punishment.

They sincerely think that they're trying to help him by doing this. And that's the heart of the issue, in my opinion. Jack and Maddie don't think about other people. They don't think about their feelings or their safety or their privacy. They are so caught up in the idea that they are doing good that they never stop to think that they're part of the problem. Or the entire problem altogether.

The only time that we get some decent self-reflection is during Reality Trip, when Danny's identity is revealed by Freakshow and the Fenton parents and Jazz are taken as hostages. While they're stuck and trapped, they question why Danny had never told them his identity before, which is when Jazz comments about the poor way they used to treat his ghostly side. It's only then that it clicks for them that oh yeah we did that. That's what it took for them to recognize that their actions have consequences and even with good intentions, you are capable of hurting the people you love.

And I think that's one of the best ways to go about it. You need to give them the time and opportunity for that self-reflection and reclamation. Jack and Maddie are- naturally- a shoot first and ask later (if ever) type of people. One way or another, there needs to be a way for them to pull back and sit and look around for once.

There are many ways to address this too and make way for the possibility of Good Parents Jack and Maddie. One of the fics that immediately comes to mind for me is @akela-nakamura's Not Everything Is As It Seems. In this one we focus on Jack's perspective, and this fic made me So Unwell with its quiet gravitas, I can never recommend it enough. But if you want something from Maddie's perspective, then you can read @peachdoxie's incredible Trust Your Instincts fic. It is 36 chapters, already completed, and it's this beautiful journey through Maddie's Outsider POV.

As for me personally, I explored the subject in Chapter 51 of my fic lex luthor's ascent from supervillainy to fatherhood, Interlude III: Dynasty. We actually get two different reactions from the Fenton parents, one that is more from a 'Good Parent' and one from a 'Bad Parent'.

I think the most important part is to never shy away from talking about and exploring all the horrible things they did and have done. It's difficult to discuss, but the subject is complicated and to address it as anything less than complicated wouldn't be fair to those moments where the Fentons genuinely did want to be there for their children.

Does it make any of their behavior right? No. Does it prove that they can change? Yes. Will they? ...That will have to be left up to each individual writer.

If you found yourself in a similar family situation, of course you're gonna want your family or your parents to grow or choose you. Because you love them, and you want to keep them in your life. But at some point you have to think about yourself and your own safety and health. That doesn't mean you give up on them, but you protect yourself from the fallout in case they don't change.

Every person is capable of it, but not every person is willing to. The Fenton parents are no different in that regard.

#halfagone replies #bad parents jack and maddie #danny phantom #character analysis #i guess???#character study #that's more like it

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atxxzist · 3 months

Text

a choice to be made | c.s, c.jh

summary: between the one who came first and the one who came later, there's only one choice to be made

pairing: choi san x f!reader, choi jongho x f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, love triangle-ish?, smut, etc

word count: 11k

(ao3) if you don't like lapslock

jongho's known you for a long time.

he's known you since the fourth grade when he found you huddled in the corner with doe and scared eyes after the teacher sent all you nine years old to go find a partner for a small assignment.

watching as your much smaller hands curled together at the front, all kinds of nervous and uneasiness on you playing for him as a witness that he couldn't help but to feel extremely bad.

so quiet and reserved you were; he hadn't even realized you were in his class until the very moment.

he had politely excused himself from his friends, telling the two they were fine to partner up without him and made way toward your smaller frame, the pout on you as if you were about to give up on anyone asking until you caught him in a short staring contest.

"would you like to be my partner?" he asked, even from that age conscious of the fact he had to be gentle as to not scare you away--contented when you nodded with the lightest smile gracing your lips.

"what's your name?" he tried breaking the ice, sitting at the desk beside you that the teacher had told the kids to put together.

"y/n..." you answered, short of a whisper and so shy, you refused to look him in the eyes which made a giggle bubble out of him as you could only stare at the kind boy who saved you.

"nice to meet you, y/n. i'm jongho."

and you had surely thought that it would a one time thing; that after the task of having to name a bunch of a things based on categories with him doing 70% of the work was finished, he would never want to speak to you again.

but jongho with his determination to get to know you and become friends, never left you alone a single day in your life after the first meeting, his persistence to start small conversations or include you in everything never failing because you started coming out of your shell bit by bit.

by the time you two entered fifth grade, you were practically friends even if you wouldn't admit it at the time, jongho could see the new changes and eagerness that wasn't there before.

he saw smiles you would try to fight and laughters with attempts to hide them, sometimes even courageous enough to return snarky replies that took him by surprise in the greatest way possible.

he knew he wanted to be friends with you for a long time.

you weren't only full of surprises, but you were genuinely a good person. someone he wanted to be around despite some obvious differences as humans, nonetheless, able to be held together by similar morals and ethics that carried the relationship to high school; the starting realization that you understood and got him even more than his friends.

you became a safe space for him; a place of comfort where he never felt judged or like he had to be perfect.

he would cycle his lunch and free times between you and his friends, often than not favoring the time spent with you because you were still too shy around people who wasn't him, but mainly because he was tired of hearing his friends' teases and remarks.

comments about him having a crush on you that he would passionately deny every time, trying to persuade his friends and himself to an extent that he only saw you as a friend and no more.

even going as far as to disagree with them you looked good the day you started to put more efforts into your appearance just so he could prove a point and show you didn't have an effect on him.

unfortunately much to his dismay and failed act, he wasn't even offended his friends called him a pussy, his mind unable to rid of the statement that was only said in a lighthearted manner that if he doesn't step up his game, he's gonna be sorry for it one day if someone else comes along.

so maybe the thought scared him a little to the point he could admit he liked you; such thing never crossing his mind because he never really felt threatened, especially with how you were.

your nose always rather in a book and boys never on your mind, jongho hadn't ever heard you talk about them a day in your life that by the time college entrance exams rolled around, it was as if he was worked up and worried for nothing when four whole years went by and nothing practically changed, except his feelings for you that only solidified and grew stronger.

it wasn't that he wasn't ever gonna ask you out. he was just scared of what could go wrong and what it could mean for the friendship if you didn't return the same sentiment, the bond built with you too precious to possibly ruin at the moment.

you two talked and shared college goals and which university you both wanted to get accepted to, studying every waking moment together because it would be great if you could attend the same one.

then came the acceptance letters, your mom running with yours one morning with a teary but proud look in her eyes and screaming at the top of her lung that you had gotten into the university of your dreams.

you couldn't wait to tell jongho, mostly because you knew if you got in then he must had as well considering his marks were better than yours by a smidge, and you both spent that afternoon celebrating and excited for the new chapter of your lives.

when it was time to pack and head for the new city, you both reminiscent and talked about the small but dearly hometown you grew up in and all the people you were gonna miss, especially your guys families and jongho's friends who had different things lined up for them.

the sight of the new city and big campus mesmerized both you and jongho, the life and people so different compared to the smaller town.

unable to help but to be excited and scared as the two of you walked past groups of college students and every welcoming signs and banners on the way to the dorms, the reality finally starting to set in and making you on edge.

feeling nervous about your roommate because of the endless possibilities of who you were gonna have to spend the next few years with, having to share a living space and see each other every day, so you hoped it was someone you could at least tolerate.

but your worries were put to rest when a girl with a friendly smile greeted you, telling you she goes by chaewon and was also equally concerned her roommate was gonna be a creep, but relieved after to find you are very much normal.

jongho on the other hand, didn't have any problems befriending his older but much quieter roommate, kang yeosang, who he had to admit was one of the most striking people he had ever seen.

it wasn't just the boy's looks though that made jongho want to admire and respect him; his kindness and friendliness something that made him incredibly easy to like.

after barely settling in, the semester was approaching fast, leaving hardly any remaining time for you and jongho to talk and share class schedules before the first week started.

and in that first week, a chemistry class that is a core requirement, is where he meets san.

bumbling into the classroom out of breath almost 30 minutes in after lecture already started, jongho can't hide the amusement he gets from the male succeeding with a deep bow and charming smile toward the professor that he swear made her slightly blush before the unnamed boy starts heading jongho's way. the seat next to him one of the only two available.

"hey bro, mind if i sit here?" he asks, the chair already pulled halfway.

"you're good," he replies, the boy quick to nod and take a seat, quietly thanking jongho with a smile.

within the next few days and dragging onto the second week, jongho learns punctuality isn't san's strong suit. he's never on time or even just 5 minutes late. jongho's known to not expect him until the 15 minutes mark where he'd show up casually and the professor wouldn't even bat an eye.

"he like--talks a lot and i'm sure, probably has no idea what's going on in class more than half the time," jongho tells you of his remarkable seatmate after you passed a simple question of how things are going.

the both of you seated at a table in the corner of the library, far enough from the public's eye to gossip and chat.

"maybe he wants to become close? i think it's good to get to know a couple new people around campus," you say, looking up from the notes you were writing, because no one has even talked to you if not for class obligations other than your roommate.

"i doubt it," jongho disagrees, "if you met him, i think he'd tired you out."

because while jongho is more outgoing and willing to step out compared to you, he's still selective, choosing only from a small pool to hang and have long, winded conversations with.

but san--he seems to talk to just about anyone and everyone. the man able to start and continue a conversation like he's known the person for years, capable of just spurring words after another without it being awkward, jongho can't help but to almost admire him for it.

how, there's really just people like him walking around and having it so easy due to their charms and charisma. because though it definitely annoys him to an extent; the professor having to shush san and him twice mid-chatter, it was also the undeniable welcomeness that made him already comfortable by the fourth week.

"91 out of 100. not bad for the first exam," jongho mumbles, holding up the test he just got back; all the studying and sleeping at 3 a.m. paying off.

"fuck."

he hears the boy next to him curse the same time a look of frustration befalls his seatmate now somewhat friend.

"a 48, are you shitting me?"

and it's then that jongho finds out this is san's second time taking chemistry, already having dropped the class last semester when there was no way he was gonna pass even if he did well on the last exam.

"but you have to promise."

"okay okay, i promise i won't be annoying," san eagerly assures the younger boy after he agreed to tutor him with the exception that he's to be on his best behavior because you're gonna be there too, usually writing notes or working on assignments and they can't be distracting.

you already know what to expect that monday, jongho warning you ahead of time but you're surprised you can already hear them within earshot before even reaching the table. the first voice an unfamiliar one followed by jongho's response.

"no cause why would you accurately assume i got in due to a sport scholarship."

"because there's no way someone who doesn't even know what fucking h2o is would even get in."

"uh... hi," you awkwardly interrupt, not intending to but having no other choice but to introduce yourself.

the both of them snaps to you and immediately drop the topic--the conversation starting in the first place because jongho was appalled his friend could throw a ball but apparently not get some of the most simple questions right.

and maybe it was this exact moment where jongho's senses and alerts started going off, because seeing san freeze up at the sight of you and you getting taken aback because you didn't think san would be so handsome; it brings a queasy and sickening feeling to jongho that he can't shake off.

watching san greet you with a simple 'hi' and gaze unable to leave you, too entirely fascinated, and your own that makes him even more nervous because he can see the twinge of shyness in them caused by the older boy.

"don't mind me. you won't even notice i'm here," you say, breaking the quick silence and taking a seat.

but it isn't just the first meeting that makes jongho think san might take the slightest interest in you, because if he isn't struggling with the materials, he's either stealing glances or trying to make you laugh so he can see your pretty smile.

"this is the last time i am tutoring you stupid jocks," jongho sighs in annoyance, but his tone rather teasing and lighthearted.

san scoffs and lifts his head up and toward your direction.

"if you quit, i'll just ask the pretty girl then."

the compliment making your cheeks burn a shade of red, startled by san's bold and daring personality, but jongho has to laugh off the sight to jump in.

"don't be silly. i helped y/n pass most of her science classes in high school."

"y-yeah," you manage to say. "i'm not that good at science."

but the boy currently sending a strangely tight feeling to your chest goes on to smile that dimply one you've seen a couple times by now, seeing the deep indentations on his cheeks that you think are so cute on a grown man.

"first thing we have in common," he coos softly, your heart almost taking a leap at that, jongho only able to stare in apprehension because you don't look disgusted or creeped out by his friend's shameless behavior at all.

judging by your reaction, he's sure you like it. your fluttering eyelashes and nervous twitch because san's starting to crack you open the same way jongho did so long ago.

each passing day at the library together, jongho can see your walls slowly coming down every time the older boy will ask a question or say something just so he can talk to you.

so when san quietly passed a mention of you during class and start coming into the library even on days jongho isn't tutoring, he knows san has more in mind than just trying to pass chemistry.

and when he finally drops the bomb one day in the confidence of the hushed and peaceful corner because you haven't shown up, jongho wishes he didn't see it coming.

"i like her," san tells him, jongho sitting across and far enough to be grateful that the older boy doesn't hear how fast his heart is beating.

but san's sure of it. maybe he still doesn't know much about you yet, but he wants to. you're way too endearing, cute, and shy and he wants you to be his. he just has to make sure of one thing first because he doesn't want to be that guy.

"but if you like her too, i understand, you know? it's all good. just thought i'd ask you first."

because san thinks, with a girl and boy hanging out and becoming friends, there's just the smallest chance one of them will eventually develop feelings and he respects that if it's the case.

"me? nah. it's cool, bro. you go ahead," jongho brushes the assumption off with a blow, but he regrets it as soon as he finishes, but unable to take it back because he went into panic when it seemed like san was able to see through him.

see that he has the fattest crush on you and has liked you for a long time, but so afraid of ruining everything if it's to come out because you've never shown even the slightest possibility of feeling the same way.

he's uneasy for the rest of the day, the conversation at the library always at the back of his head and bringing upon a sense of doom and anxiety because though san makes him want to pull the boy's hair out, jongho admits that he can be really sweet and just exactly what you need.

always grateful and thanking jongho with either his kind words or money for tutoring him and improving his grade in the course. the man's not exactly book smart but he does have a heart of gold that jongho can't help but to think if you're to ever date anyone, he's glad it's gonna be san.

you were just on your way to your next class when someone pops from behind to beside you, his shoulder knocking into yours lightly and taking you by surprise, but more so when you realize who it is.

"hey," san says, a smile on his face as he looks down at you.

"hey!" you return, never having seen him outside of the library before, or next and walking with you. "you heading this way, too?"

he shakes his head.

"i came looking for you."

you can't control the way your eyes swell at the statement, feeling both flustered and weirdly flattered but honestly impressed at san's confidence and how he's able to just say things for what it is without feeling embarrassed, ever.

"oh?" you raise a brow, your steps slowing and san giggling at the confusion. "how did you know where to find me?"

"i asked jongho about your schedule," he answers, catching just how creepy and invasive it sounds a second after and attempts to save what he can. "hope that didn't came out too weird."

you chuckle, looking to the floor and shaking your head.

"not too much. i don't think so."

"okay, good."

the air's met by silent giggles from the both of you after, and a smile on your lips that san can tell you're trying to fight even with your head down and focus on the books clutched to your chest.

"so, have you checked out every place on campus, yet?" he asks, snatching the perfect chance to be with you and bring you somewhere.

you hum a low denial before replying, "not yet. the size's a bit overwhelming."

"oh i understand," he says, tone shortly switching to mischievious and cunning. "you want to?"

you shrug in response.

"well, it would be nice. get familiar with the campus and whatnot."

"if you want, i can show you. whenever you're free," he offers casually, yours and his shoulder bumping into each other along the walk and in a manner san can almost call shameless flirting from his side.

"i mean, i wouldn't want to bother you," you say lowly, voice soft, sweet and empathetic, and why san is so drawn to you. there's almost a hint of eagerness in your eyes that is held back by the shyness and proper courtesy.

"are you kidding? it would be a pleasure," he beams, volume upping and loud enough for even the passerbys to hear. "just let me know when you're free and we can arrange something."

you watch him pull his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you, both your steps halting that second.

"you may put your number down and i'll text you?"

you hesitate, not because you don't want to but because san makes you feel a certain way and now that he's inviting you to actually do something, it's as if you've been put on the spot.

but eventually, you nod and take up the offer, typing out your number and giving yourself a contact name before returning his phone.

"i'll text you." he smiles.

when friday finally arrives; you telling him that's the day you'll be available, of course you're nervous.

not only did jongho refused to come along, but this is gonna be your first time out with someone else without him; let alone another boy. and a cute and kind one at that who gave you the first real experience of butterflies in your stomach a few weeks ago.

you both meet up in the library because it's the only place you're somewhat familiar with, the boy showing up so handsome and welcoming, your palms already sweating and you feel like you're gonna make a run for it.

"hey," he greets, and you try your best to return it without all the turmoil showing itself that you have been very obviously deprived of any interactions with the opposite sex (besides jongho) for who knows how long.

but san does such a good job of settling your nerves, his willingness to answer every and any questions you have throughout the tour calming most of your doubts until you realize you were overreacting.

he stands tall next to you and you still can't believe he's taking the time out of his day to spend with you, but you feel a lot more at ease because san is incredibly easy to talk to, you can see how jongho and him came to form a bond so quickly.

before you know it, three whole hours already went by and the tour's come to an end, san having shown you everything from every department buildings down to where students usually try to pass time.

"big school, huh?" he starts, the two of you stopping right in front of the girls dorms and you nodding in response.

"pretty insane."

he snickers and you try not to stare at the dimple provoking you because if that isn't your favorite feature of him. your thought soon interrupted by his mellow voice spurring a rather questionable remark that makes you think twice.

"but that was a good first date," he says, hands in his pockets and not a single shame on his face, instead biting back a smirk.

"first date?" you repeat, your feelings a mix of nervous and surprise... not in any bad ways. you can't say you don't enjoy the flirty and coyish tone that's starting to set in, even if you have no idea how any of it works.

he smoothly recovers, "i mean, if you want it to be?" as if he wasn't the one who started it in the first place. "but you know, if you don't, i respect that."

you're silent for a quick second before confessing, "well, i-i've never been on a date before." to which you immediately want to face palm after because you're not sure why he needed to know.

once he giggles and really look you in the eyes, you feel like you're gonna have a breakdown because the entire day has really been an overload of san that's gonna make your heart explode. and now he's staring at you like he wants you.

"then it should be done properly. how about a real first date?" he tilts his head slightly, hands now out of his pockets and delivering such bold words with all the confidence and cheekiness in the world.

you can only swallow and gulp, breaking the tension with a serious, "are you asking me out?" that's the last thing in pushing san to a laughter because he might enjoy messing with you a little too much.

"i am," he says once he can look you straight in the face and not have the urge to start laughing at how cute and clueless you really are.

but in spite of his endless teasings and your uncertainty (not your feelings for him), you do eventually say yes. now that you're out of high school and is an adult, you want to push out of your comfort zone a little and actually go out and do things.

see if it's gonna work out because ever since meeting san, you've been experiencing emotions and symptoms you've never had before.

the date takes place in a small and cozy cafe down the street from the university, san having said because it's the first, it's important to get to know one another before deciding on anything grand.

you show up in simple jeans and a blouse with your hair and makeup done, and san's in a black sweater looking effortlessly just as good as he did the last time you saw him.

the conversations and atmosphere not as awkward or bumbling as one would expect a first date to be since you've already become a lot more comfortable due to previous encounters.

you two talk over breads and two cups of cappuccino, san laughing and poking fun at you again when he sees the line of microfoam on top your lip, reaching out with his hand to clean it and bringing a light blush to your cheeks in the process.

unsure how a date's supposed to go and play out exactly, but following san's leads because it just feels so right with him.

and on the way back to the dorms, he catches you by the waist when you miss a footing, time suddenly stopping when he keeps his grip there with you two staring into each other as if in a melodrama; san sealing the relationship with a kiss before the end of the night when you said yes to being his girlfriend.

still scared and inexperienced but so sure that you want it because you have a good feeling about san and how you can't wait to tell jongho the next day because you know he will be happy for you.

jongho still can't wrap his head around the fact even almost two weeks later. that you and san are dating now, and it's not that he isn't happy for you--because he respects and knows very well that it was your choice.

he just hasn't gotten used to it; the sight of san snuggling so closely by your side in the library or playing with your hair affectionately, because the truth is--he isn't used to you being with anybody else ever. especially not this intimate.

"guess what, babe," san squeals, seeing your arrival and pulling you to the seat beside him that instant, jongho can only stare as you go on to mutter a "hmm" at your boyfriend.

"i passed the second exam," he tells you so happy and excited, shoving the laptop screen in your face displaying the score of an 83 on exam 2; his antics met by an endeared giggle from you.

"congrats," you say.

he smiles in response, pushing the device away and supporting his elbow on the table to lean in and mumble, "i think that deserves a kiss." before flying in to steal a quick peck on your cheek that barely misses your lips, making you swat at him in return.

"san!"

you wouldn't be so flustered if it wasn't a public setting, with jongho blatantly sitting right across, blinking and watching the entire time.

it's almost a daily occurrence at this point, jongho toughening his heart up because he knows you're gonna get kissed or teased and it's gonna make him feel a little restless.

he thinks san is a good man, the way he treats you full of love and regard puts jongho at ease because you deserve nothing less than that. the past week and a half with him already doing you some good, small changes on the surface from being with someone as upbeat and positive as san.

you laugh and smile more, and you've gotten more confident now that there's someone to tell you how beautiful you really are every day.

jongho is happy for you. he just needs more time to process everything, especially the changes.

after all, it's not like he became friends with you in hopes of only taking the relationship further. you are still his friend first and foremost.

"he wants me to meet his friends, and i think it'd be better if you come, too? so we can all go, you know," you tell him over the phone, on the topic of a party san's gonna take you to.

"it's fine. you guys go ahead. i'm gonna work on catching up with assignments," he replies, not lying exactly but it's the first thing to come to mind that he could use.

you pause before returning a disappointed, "oh, okay. maybe next time?"

"yeah. next time."

because you do think it would be funner with your best friend next to you, you and him usually experiencing lots of first together and you wanted him to be there when you walk through the house of your first ever college party. but it's fine since san's gonna take you and he promised to be by your side the whole night.

when the party's arrival comes, just the outside already loud and overwhelming enough, san takes you by the hand intertwining his fingers with yours and guiding the way into the house. your other one slightly wrapping it around his arm because you don't want any chances of separating from your boyfriend.

the inside is stuffy and definitely reeks of alcohol, feeling yourself picking up the pace and huddling even closer to san, prompting him to suddenly stop and turn to you, his head over his shoulder.

"how you feeling?"

"alright," you answer. "just a little overwhelmed."

he reassures you with a smile, mumbling out "almost there" and pulling you just a few more steps until you can hear piercing laughters even through the booming music, followed by an array of voices.

"ha! you fucking wish it was you!"

"shut the fuck up wooyoung. i don't see you having song credits to your name at the mere age of 20."

"wow, hey guys," san breaks the banter between his friends, all three of them snapping their neck to him that second. "such classy introduction."

you can only gulp and stare at the three men in front of you, all of them just as good looking as san and a bit intimidating the way they're staring you down.

"guys, this is y/n, and y/n, these are the three musketeers," san quips, the remark swooping a tiny smile from you.

"pfft," the boy who spoke second earlier blows, his striking red hair is the first thing to catch your eye. he's the shortest among the group as if missing a centimeter the one across from him has. "cut the shit, choi."

"ah! y/n!" says the one who spoke first--wooyoung, you think, the one currently sounding the most playful and loud. "so you're the girl who gave san a hard-on in the library. we've heard a ton about you!"

it's from how tight san's grip has gotten that you know he's tense, and you're grateful for the dark lighting because you can feel the heat radiating off your cheeks from the comment.

"wooyoung! you can't just say that!" the red-haired boy reprimands, while the one in the middle as tall as a mountain and hard to miss just chuckles it all off, not a single word fallen from his lips once.

"sorry about my friend," he continues, reaching out to offer his hand for a shake. "i'm hongjoong."

"y/n," you say, amid the exchange though san's already put your name out there.

"mingi," the tall one in the middle finally speaks, his voice an unexpected deep. and then wooyoung jumping onto the train because he can't break the pattern.

"well, you are definitely a lot cuter in person though san already couldn't shut up about it," another remark leaving wooyoung once again, the only one to be spilling everything and saying it without an ounce of shame or embarrassment. and you thought san was the most shameless person you know.

"thanks," you reply, your current dilemma between the urge to laugh or keep a straight face. "he didn't mention you guys were a little loud and chaotic."

"ooh okay, i like her already," says wooyoung, a playful smirk settling on his face.

"--and embarrassing," san adding once he's finally able to pull you away from the nosy boys and to a part of the house more discreet.

they wouldn't stop asking questions or retelling you san's past relationships and how pathetic or yearning he gets once he's fallen for someone.

"sorry, babe. maybe bringing you to meet them the first party was a mistake."

you shake your head, a small giggle bubbling out.

"no, you're fine. they were interesting."

chaotic and just as extroverted as san can be, but also like him, you were quick to warm up to them. their loud personalities made it easy to join conversations and feel invited.

"want a drink?" he asks, nodding his head off the direction behind you. your back pushed against the table with the party drinks, you just noticed.

you shake your head. "maybe later."

but he goes in to grab one anyway, keeping it in his hand while staring down at you.

"try it. it'll loosen you up." he smirks, and you don't want to but san has a way of tempting you into doing things you usually wouldn't.

"is it alcohol?" you softly ask.

"yeah. beer."

"oh."

and when you still keep quiet, he starts again, "i'll go first and you after."

"well that's unfair. you've been here before," you whine, a pout crossing your lips without notice and san has to resist the urge to kiss you right there.

"no. i don't even like alcohol," he defends himself, tall and true because yes, he's been to lots of parties but he still cannot take it, his body and face turning a red flush like none others so really, he's not sure why he's so adamant in making you drink as well.

"hmm," you hum a suspicious tone, but san's already pouring the cup down his throat before you can finish, watching his eyes go round before passing it to you.

"try it."

and you do, the liquid barely touching your tongue when you can already taste the foreign citrusy and earthy flavor to the drink, your face twisting in response that makes san laugh.

"oh you love it," his teasing and sarcastic comment earning a scoff from you.

"why do people drink this stuff?" you say, the taste still lingering and passing the cup back to him.

"well, according to wooyoung: to have fun."

he's quick to pour the remains into the sink before tossing it to a nearby trashcan, his head prancing around looking for something to do.

"wanna dance?"

you follow his gaze to the dance floor, the confident and bold partygoers with their moves intimidating you a bit.

"i don't know." you look him in the eyes and his blank expression melting into a tender smile.

"come on. you're gonna have fun," he squeaks, pulling you by the wrist and to the dance floor, the strobing light hitting your eyes and making you squint.

"i don't know how to dance," you yell over the music to a slouching san attempting to hear you out, and when he does, a snicker escapes his lips before whispering into your ear.

"i'll teach you."

you don't get the chance to protest or hurl another complaint about your dancing skills (or lack thereof), san already spinning you around until your back's flushed against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder and arms wrapped around your waist as his breath ghosts the tip of your skin.

"just move along to the beat," he whispers, the goosebumps on your neck raising because of the position. the two of you never this close and sensual before.

but you do as he say, rocking slowly together in a romantic manner to the upbeat pop song but it is nice and brings upon a certain arousal between your legs.

everything with san has been like a dream, from the way he's so perfect you can't help but to question if it's real he's really your boyfriend, to how he treats you as if you saved a planet in the last life.

he really is everything you could ask for in a partner. funny, respectful, and just so fun, there's never a dull moment.

the two of you have been spending lots of time together, whether in between passing periods or just laying around in the dorm when chaewon's out--each day riskier than the one before with san's comments and remarks more daring and uncensored.

"how can i not have a boner when you're so pretty and hot, baby."

you were just laying on his chest in his bedroom and house that he's finally brought you around to, the place big and with a richness you've never seen before, when one of your knees accidentally brushed over his crotch area and you immediately questioned the bulge growing in his pants.

you've come to embrace his rather pervertedness than to shy away, now that there isn't much to hide between you guys; sometimes getting the itch yourself but much better at keeping it together in comparison.

"well, keep it in your pants," you tell him with a playful and dismissive tone, a smirk at the corner of your lips and going back to your phone.

"can i keep it inside you instead?"

the innuendo makes you lower your phone to shove his chest lightly as you yell out his name, his heaving chest from the laughter felt on the palm of your hand.

"just kidding. whenever you're ready, baby," he assures, pulling you closer by snaking one arm around your body and snuggling into the top of your now blonde hair that he helped you with.

it's really all jokes and passing comments at first, san not in the rush for it if you're not ready, and you not thinking much because you just like being with him and there's no pressure to get to that stage yet even though you know it's coming.

but you trust and believe in san enough at this point that if he wants to, you figure you'd give yourself up for him.

"we were just too different, i think. but it's okay. we ended it on good terms and there wasn't any bad feelings," he recalls the story of his ex after you had asked, your ears and eyes intrigued while sipping the cup of pepsi in your lap.

san had gotten a new car, gave you an entire tour on it although you lacked any knowledge besides the fact it's a sports car and said he wanted to go driving around.

after almost a whole day of sightseeing and places he wanted you to see, almost every restaurants closing except fast foods, you two stocked up on burgers and sodas, driving to a cliff overlooking the city and now just chit-chatting.

the current topic crossing your mind because of what his friends said just piquing your interest, and you're honestly just a little nosy.

"but we're different too, no?" you blurt, lashes fluttering at the fact, because you two are different. he's so much more extroverted and carefree, and you're well... you. but your next comment more lively and lighthearted. "does that mean we're also doomed?"

san chuckles and shakes his head.

"but we're a good different," he says with a soft smile. "me and her, we were a kind of different that was never gonna work out. but you, you try for me even if it's out of your comfort zone."

the compliment makes you detach from the straw to return a heartwarming smile, but all of that gone the second you ask the next question.

"is she the one you lost your virginity to?"

and san can't control the snicker that rolls out; the view of you so serious bringing him a form of amusement.

"well, yes. my only other girlfriend was freshman year of high school."

"ooh..." you mumble, nodding and shifting in your seat and san thinks it's the last of it until you're hurling out another one. "how was it?"

he scoffs, but you're dead serious, he don't know whether to laugh again or be amazed at how actually willing you are to talk about it.

"i'm not gonna talk about sex with someone else right in front of my girlfriend," he counters, head shaking but tone amused. "y/n, you cuck."

you roll your eyes at the name, sitting up and shrugging to mutter a response that gets a quiet chuckle out of him.

"just wanted to know how it's like."

"then go watch porn."

"they're too unrealistic and exaggerated," you reason. "the fake moans, crazy positions, and the fact everything always go perfectly."

san smirks, jumping the gun to tease you, "well how would you know, you never had sex before."

"pfft," you huff, the next sequence of words leaving without much thought. just that you want to win the banter. "that's 'cause you won't fuck me."

san stiffens in his seat immediately, both taken aback and aroused by what had just fallen from your lips, throwing a "woah!" that settles the reality for you as well.

"i'll fuck you, alright. if you let me, i'll fuck you good."

and he's only kidding, though a bit turned on, not actually expecting for you to go silent as if having to make the toughest decision ever, only for you to blurt out the green light that takes his breath away.

"t-then do it," you say, nervous and shaking a little, but also confident that you're ready and want to give yourself to the man in front of you, the food and drink between your thighs forgotten at this point.

"y-you're serious?" it's his turn to stutter, the turnout of the entire situation a bit unbelievable. "because if you're just playing with me, i think i might cry. you've already given me blue balls one too many times."

you giggle at the desperation and almost denial crossing his face, assuring him you're being truthful, but the man still won't stop talking as if he's a caveman finally securing the chance to get laid.

"no because you're so mean if--"

you cut him off with a kiss, the silence thickening and finally pulling away to his blinking and innocent lashes before something else entirely comes over him. the thin line on his lips turning to a smirk.

"you don't know what you just did," he mutters, deep and sinister and so sexy that your knees can't help but to go a little weak before he pulls you right back for an even messier kiss--tongue and all.

when you feel the food faltering, the drink now even colder and wetter against one of your thighs, you push him back lightly by the chest, mumbling a "wait" as he watches impatiently for you to remove the obstacles so he can resume the kiss.

it's immediate and happens fast, his lips connecting yours again with your fingers dipping around his shirt to find a place to rest, your breath taken away at this point by how eager he's moving that by the time he finally lets you catch your breath, it must've been a whole minute.

"just gonna come over to that side," he tells you ahead of time, your equally desperate body and head nodding before he climbs over and pushes your seat back, adjusting it just enough for you to be in an almost sleeping position.

and one thing leading to another, the night long gone and something else in yours and san's heads; for you, the fact you're about to lose your virginity in his new car and so sure but also shy of it when he's moved on from kissing to wanting to eat you out, but stopping when a sudden realization hits.

"are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, voice soft and eyes full of warmth unlike the person he was just five seconds ago.

you nod, muttering, "i'm sure."

"alright. then we're gonna have to go get condoms," he informs. "to be safe."

it's always a little embarrassing and flustering even for san although it shouldn't be, but a mere glance and reminder of you makes the awkward encounter at checkout worth it.

"should we go somewhere else more... private?" you voice concernedly, the car no longer secluded and with a view of the city but now in the parking lot of the 24 hours convenience store.

san swipes a few glances out the window and shakes his head.

"should be okay. there isn't anyone," he says, tone calm and not at all fazed unlike the current expression you have on that brings out the tiniest smirk from him. "why? scared someone's gonna see?"

he's cocky and annoying and kind of hot at the same time, you just roll your eyes.

"don't worry about it, babe," he assures once more, the softer and slight playfulness gone the next second. "now can i eat you out?"

and you've gotten accustomed to his blunt personality; how he just blurts and say things without a filter, but your face still gets a little hot and your cheeks still turns a blush pink.

you don't say anything except nodding your head slowly but surely, a minuscule smile on san's lips before crossing to your side again to settle on his knees as he stares up at you through the faint car lighting, his hands holding no hesitation to grip the end of your skirt while you widen your legs for easier access.

a whimper's followed by the biting of your lower lip when he's managed to bunch your skirt all the way up to your hips, the skin on your legs now more exposed than ever and feeling all kinds of naked under the eye of san's hungry gaze.

"no safety shorts?" he teases, that cocky tone making a comeback. "you want it quick and fast, don't you?"

you'd probably hit him if not for the fact he's right, the itch you have dying to be fulfilled by only him that all you can do is whine a pathetic, "h-hurry" never have a single word satisfied san so much to this extent.

with a smirk and eager pull, your panty's on the floor of the car and your bare flesh on display for san and he's sure he already came a little.

when you start growing insecure, never in your life have you reveal and give this much of yourself to someone before, san is quick to jump in and comfort you, mumbling the word 'beautiful' as he kisses up one of your thighs with his hand on the other until he's close to your entrance.

with one suck of his breath and grips spreading your legs apart, the loudest moan yet falls from you when he dives in, his lips dancing on your vagina already sending you into a frenzy.

your legs can't help but to jolt in the air instinctly from the pleasure, more hot moans befalling when he sucks on your clit.

"oh fuck," you curse, lower lip now caught in between your teeth again because your boyfriend can eat pussy, his tongue and skill continuing to prove the point as it generates more moans and prompts your grip to rest on his hair, groaning and looking up into the ceiling of the car.

he finally pulls away after a few more seconds, your already fucked out face and harsh breathing feeding into his ego, going to cockily say, "like that?"

you nod, still trying to recover from the high and seeing a smirk overtake his lips.

"i think you'll like my cock even more," he says, sly and teasing, reaching for the condom and ripping the packaging under your watchful eye.

his arms are shortly wrapped around your body after, flipping and switching position till he's the one being seated and you're sprawled all over his lap, knees guarding his legs and poking the cushion underneath, just up and gawking at him as if waiting for the next instruction.

"can you be a good cowgirl?" he whispers, looking you in the eyes so smugly and boldly.

"guess we'll find out," you mumble, trying the utmost best to sound like you're not just the tiniest bit intimidated by having to stuff his entire cock inside of you; and especially scared when he unzips his pants and it springs out immediately as if screaming to get out the entire time.

it's veiny and thick and san can see through the doubts in your head, a giggle rushing past to hopefully lighten the situation.

"take your time, baby," he comforts, soft and heartwarming unlike the monster in his pants. "i'll help you."

his hands travel down to your ass and lifts you up, both your grips now on his shoulders and attempting to line your entrace to his tip, a moan flying from san when his tip just touches one of your folds, the silent curse from him so sexy and stimulating.

it's your turn to giggle at the slip-up, the man doing his best on self control tonight when he really was ready to start ramming the instant you gave him the go, but because you're new to all of this and inexperienced, he has to take it slow; let you know that there isn't a single thing to be rushed.

you can feel the warmth of his flesh when you finally lined up, throwing your arms around his neck and burying your head into his chest as the attempt start; something inside you both nervous but also excited.

the first half is met by moans from the both of you and a burning sensation at the stretch, but still so persistent to take all of him. make you and him feel good and ride him; his passing comments only fueling more of that determination.

"shit, baby. y-you're so tight," he puffs, his clutch on you getting tighter the lower you go, until he's fully in you and you're both breathing out signs of relief met by a quick silence shortly after.

you remove your head from his chest to look him in the eyes, his features always the perfect mix of sharp, handsome, and cute; when he swipes at your forehead to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear, your stomach still flutters with butterflies despite the current position.

"you can move when you're ready," he says, breath against the tip of your skin when he presses his forehead to yours and take you in for another kiss. this time more messy and desperate, tongues clashing like it's the last time you're ever gonna kiss.

and once the makeout settles you in, the confidence and passion heating up, you start moving slowly with san's help, the pace picking up each time the kiss gets even deeper; moans and whimpers filling the air of the car until the fear's all gone and only replaced by the need for pleasure.

it feels good, and even better when he lands a slap to your ass while his other one squeezes at your breast, the seat creaking underneath but both too busy to care about anything else.

when your high's finally on the edge after a few more bounces, you tell him ahead of time, detaching from his lips and to his neck in preparation, your walls clenching and hitting its max just shortly after that also sends san into his climax from the sensation.

you pull back after catching your breath, staring into san's softer eyes before smiles and laughters take over the scene, san going on to ask, "how was it?"

"good," you answer. you can't believe you both just had sex in his new car.

mostly everything is still good; passing all your classes and still absolutely in love with san, every day learning something new about the other person as well as taking the time to explore what each other likes in bed.

mostly everything because you can't even remember the last time you had a proper conversation with jongho.

just a few weeks before the end of the semester, he already started coming to the library less and less until he just stopped showing completely.

his texts now always short and infrequent, nothing like the boy he was in high school when he'd send memes or daily complaints just to rack up your notifications.

every invitations to hang out or go somewhere with you and san always met with rejection. he's either busy with school works, has a club meeting, or already made plans with the members he met from the club.

you're happy for him and glad he's meeting new people, but you still can't help but to feel on the occasion that maybe he doesn't want to hang with you anymore now that he's met much cooler people; a bowling invitation yesterday that he also said no to although it's summer and you're sure he could spare just an hour or two.

because you love being with san and you're glad for chaewon's girl presence providing you an understanding and relatability neither san or jongho could, but you miss your best friend.

you miss having long discussions about the chosen movie of the night, sharing inside jokes and just talking about things only the two of you would get because he's been there for you since the fourth grade.

on the tuesday you have nothing to do in particular, you thought it's the perfect time to catch up and do something, even if just talking over slices of pizza.

you had texted him to make sure he's in the dorms and when he replied saying he is, you thought it'd be better to just walk the distance between the girls and boys dorms and ask him personally.

after all, he couldn't have too much on his schedule if it's summer.

but when the knock on his room isn't answered by him or his roommate who's hard to not remember, the disappointment that floods your system from seeing he has company is defeating.

"y/n?" you hear his voice from behind the much taller unnamed boy before his head peeks out.

"hey," you say, attempting your best to sound as normal as you can, and not like you're disappointed because you thought you were gonna get to spend some time with him.

"what's up?" he asks, face and body calm as if he hasn't been trying to avoid you. "you texted me. did you need anything?"

and you just panic then. all four boys staring you down and you can't possibly ruin their guy time by pulling your friend away just because you miss him.

"uhh--yeah. was just wondering if i can borrow your laptop. i'm gonna have to take mine to a repair shop tomorrow," you lie through your teeth, jumping onto the first thing that comes to mind.

"yeah, sure," he replies, turning his back on you to grab the laptop in his bag and handing it over once at the door again. "anything else?"

"ah--no," you stumble, retrieving the device and stumbling out a 'thank you' almost too awkwardly as a permanent smile stays on his face, but as if he's also waiting for you to be done with.

"well, i'll see you then," you mumble, hiding just the tiniest bit of sad behind your voice.

"i'll see you, y/n."

san said he will text you once he's on his way, so your head's currently against a pillow and scrolling through endless social feeds to pass time when the knock at the door gets you on your feet.

you half expect it to be chaewon because she forgot something, but the sight of your best friend takes your breath away a little, because maybe he's finally realized just how long you two have been apart.

"hi. i came to get my laptop."

your growing smile's wiped off that instant, only watching as jongho walks past you into the room with wandering eyes as you close the door.

"it's true girls are cleaner than guys," he comments, yours and chaewon's things neatly placed and arranged to the belonging side, nothing like his and yeosang's.

but you don't reply nor react to the comment, instead pulling his laptop out of the drawer that's been there since yesterday and still untouched because yours is completely fine, figuring you'll just try one last time.

"you know, you should really come bowling with me and san," you say, the same time you return his laptop.

you can see the exact moment he tenses up at your words and all composure from him before now gone.

you can also see the wheel spinning in his head and scrambling for an excuse because it's almost like despite asking, you knew he's gonna say no.

"eh, it's fine. i gotta catch up with some of the guys anyway. seonghwa's making us come up with a list of possible club activities for next semester."

it's a plausible and reasonable excuse, but still not good enough because you don't want to think about how much a semester of college's already drove the two of you apart.

"but you guys have fun. maybe another time," he tells you, completely unsuspecting to the apprehension on you or the conflict running round in your head.

"and when is that gonna be exactly?" your surprisingly abrasive tone stopping him before reaching the door, jongho turning around and meeting your unamused eyes.

"you always say the same thing whenever i ask," you add, the atmosphere scarily shifting when it all dawns on jongho how serious you are.

"it's true, though? i really can't today."

"i asked you two days in advance. you couldn't at the very least try and make some room?"

you're fast and filled with hurt, jongho's struggling to process the sudden hostility. he thought he was doing you a favor, to be fair.

"i didn't think it was gonna be this big of a deal?" he says, pitch high and confused almost like a question, because it isn't his intention to make you feel like he doesn't want to hang with you anymore.

"when was even the last time we did something together?" your voice a kind of disbelief because you feel you have the right to complain considering how long it really has been.

but jongho still looks rather unconvinced, like he doesn't understand why you're bringing it up and turning it into something to argue about.

"i didn't think it mattered all that much whether i was with you or not since san was there."

since you looked so happy with him and he could do two times more for you than jongho could, he didn't see it a problem if he let you guys be while he took some time for himself. to process the changes and come to terms with everything.

and it's obvious you weren't expecting the response by how you kind of just freeze up momentarily and swallows down before eventually finding something to say.

"of course it matters. you're my best friend, and it'd be even better if you could be there, too."

"but i can't always be with you," he counters, appreciative that you never forget him, always asking him to tag along with you and san but you also don't seem to be processing the changes as well.

all the perks that comes with being in a relationship and how jongho just can't stick and follow you like a lost puppy because you have someone else to be directing all the love and attention to.

he adds, "i only said no because i thought it'd be better for you to spend time with san alone. the dude's cool and all but i think even he'd have a problem if i was to tag along with him and his girlfriend all the time."

san already saw through him once and jongho doesn't want any chances of reviving his suspicions.

"you could've just told me that, you know... instead of avoiding us," you say, after a few seconds of silence because it felt like the entire thing could've been made much less dramatic if he did.

"yeah..." he mutters under his breath, "i'm sorry."

"it's fine," you dismiss, swallowing the knot in your throat. "but i hope you know... just because i'm with san now, it doesn't change anything between me and you. you're still someone special to me. someone nobody else can be. i do love san, but he also isn't you..."

san can't seem to get your words out of his head.

"but i hope you know… just because i'm with san now, it doesn't change anything between me and you. you're still someone special to me. someone nobody else can be. i do love san, but he also isn't you…"

it wasn't in his intention to snoop or listen in, his arrival coincidentally just in time to hear the voices coming from the room and even more surprised when he heard jongho's.

"i only said no because i thought it'd be better for you to spend time with san alone. the dude's cool and all but i think even he'd have a problem if i was to tag along with him and his girlfriend all the time."

it was jongho's initial response that took his attention, not wanting to listen any further on a conversation that he wasn't meant to hear, but now intrigued and curious because he didn't think it'd be him who was the topic.

each second feeling the thickening tension even though he was just a witness, but it was clear you guys just had an argument. and when he decided he'd just go wait for you in his car until you text or call back, he didn't expect your mumbling voice and words to hit so hard.

"i do love san, but he also isn't you…"

words that makes him sit in his car and just contemplate because it was exactly what he was afraid of: possibly taking you from jongho when he likes you as well.

you and jongho have a chemistry and bond even he's a little jealous of. the boy with the upper hand because he's known you since forever so it's natural you would be the most comfortable around him.

san understands and acknowledges that, but if it doesn't make him insecure at times, he'd by lying. and now for you to say that, it only heightens his worst insecurities.

hey, i'm sorry. something came up. but i should be ready now. are you in your car? ❤️ - y/n

yeah 🙂 - san

he greets and kisses you upon arrival like any other day, your pretty presence getting in his car and him driving to the bowling alley a couple blocks from campus.

but how you know something's bothering him is how easy he is to read. always so loud and chaotic but now all of a sudden so quiet to the point you're doing most of the talking.

and by how much of his balls are landing in the gutters, it only confirms the thought; carefully thinking of how to bring it up once you two finally gets back to the car, you asking a soft, "you okay, baby?" that snaps his head towards you.

even his response a bit dazed as he tells you he's good.

"if something's bothering you, you can tell me," you assure him, sympathetic and loving eyes his direction.

san isn't very good at holding back even if he tries, his heart always on his sleeves and his emotions big and reactive. he's never been one to be afraid at expressing himself so he doesn't see the need to be now.

he lets a low sigh escapes first, not exactly scared of telling you what it is, but of your response.

"i heard what you said to jongho," he breaks it, voice sharp and a bit grumpy.

"oh," is the response that slips because you had a feeling, his text from 20 minutes ago showing on your lockscreen when jongho finally left, but the conversation wasn't exactly of any importance to yours and san's relationship... at least you don't think.

"did i say something wrong?" you ask, nerves beginning to tense because you would never do it intentionally.

"i don't know if wrong's the word, but it definitely hurts to hear i'm not the one despite being your boyfriend," he says, a mix of sad but also cute with a pout, you can't help but to find it a little endearing because you love him so much and don't know why he would ever think that.

"i would never say that," you barely defend, causing the pout on him to be paired with angry brows because he don't know why you look like you want to smile. he's in a literal crisis.

"but you did. you said you love me but i'm not jongho, so i don't know how anyone's supposed to interpret that?''

he's puzzled when you just giggle instead, shaking your head.

"san," you say his name with a certain fondness and love, "yes, you're not him. but he's also not you. you both are so different but special to me in your own ways, i meant to say that... if only you had stayed longer."

you watch the apprehension on his face turn a calm one at the realization; his droopy lips settling to its normal shape again as he lets out an, "oh."

"yeah. but i do love you. as my boyfriend and partner." you smile as you see him try to fight an even bigger one at your consolation.

"i love you too," he returns, his heart now fully rested and relieved.

jongho thinks about what you said to him. how much love you have for him and how much he means to you... as a friend.

and as he watches you get out of san's car, a sight he wasn't really meant to see but more so an overlap he just so happened to come from the library the same time--he's happy you're in the hands of someone like san.

he knows he will treat you right and make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

and one day, jongho will find someone who he can give the love san's given you, and it won't hurt anymore.

taglist: @moonchele @svintsandghosts @imcoenffl

#take a shot #for every one of my fics #where i mention san's dimples #choi san x reader #san x reader #jongho x reader #ateez angst #ateez x reader #ateez smut #san smut

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girl-named-matty · 9 months

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Random Sebastian Sallow Headcanons

Random Sebastian Sallow Headcanons by me! Seriously, its very random, a huge jumbled mess.

He’s super cocky. From his teen years and on he’s always been cocky and really competitive.

Huge ego but willing to admit when he loses.

He’s a very passionate lover without a doubt, like 100%.

He’s also a very dedicated lover. He remembers every single little detail about his significant other; what they like, how they act around certain people, etc… He’s got it all stored in his head and he won’t forget them.

Definitely the kinda guy to sneak out in the middle of the night.

Very protective. Whether you’re his friend, family, lover, someone he’s close to in general, he’s always got your back.

Very loyal (need I say more?)

His favorite classes are Defense Against the Dark Arts, Arithmancy and Potions without a doubt.

Spends hours and I mean HOURS in the library or even just reading. When he’s not fooling around, he’s got his nose in a book trying to learn something he doesn’t already know.

He likes reading romance and fiction. Yeah, sure, he loves the real stuff he can learn but who says you can’t learn a thing or two from romance and fiction??

Has the most random pickup lines. But not an awkward random, like an “incredibly cryptic, takes you a few minutes to understand what he’s tryna say” kinda pick up lines. But surprisingly they work really well.

Would be a Ravenclaw if not in Slytherin .

His Amortentia would HAVE to do something with the scent of books, there’s no way it wouldn’t.

His love for knowledge and reading definitely came from his parents and the fact that they were professors.

As stated earlier, he remembers a lot, but he tends to remember the smaller things rather than the big things. He’ll remember what time he was reading a certain book and when but he’ll forget he has a test or a paper due the morning of as if he hadn’t been studying for it for the past few days.

Has the cutest and most creative date ideas. Usually nothing big but it’s so much more worth it since he’s put so much thought into them.

He definitely wants kids but he wants to make sure he is ready to be a father. He didn’t get to grow up with a good father figure in the most crucial times of his life and so he doesn’t really know how to be a dad but he’ll definitely learn. He wants to be the best dad he can.

Always losing quills, like ALWAYS. Good thing he has backups otherwise he’d be screwed.

Sometimes he sneaks into the restricted section purely to piss off Madam Scribner. Like he won’t even go down there to read, he just wants to be a lil crap and annoy her.

He has school rivalries but he won’t let that get in the way of his personal friendships/relationships with that person. Slytherin and Gryffindor have the biggest rivalry in all of Hogwarts but he still has good friendships with plenty of Gryffindors.

This man LOVES using analogies. All the time. And then he finds himself rambling on and on after that. But who can blame him when he just has so much to think about?

Has some of the best grades in school. Even with his detention record and his reputation of being a troublemaker, he’s still dedicated to his education.

Let me know if you guys want a part 2 of this because I have plenty more!

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hl #Sebastian sallow headcanons #Hogwarts legacy headcanons #headcanons #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #Sebastian sallow fanfiction

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haunted-xander · 6 months

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The scene w the twins held hostage in Tertium is probably one of my favorite scenes in the entire game (which says a LOT). It's a very good portrayal of their characters and their dynamic to each other.

The scene starts with Alisaie trying to kick the door open, despite knowing she's better off staying put until we get them out. Point 1: Alisaie is reactive. Alphinaud then responds to this by explaining that, while he also hates this situation, they're better off staying put like we told them to. Point 2: Alphinaud internalizes.

Alisaie walks to sit by the wall like he is, and then kinda shyly scoots closer to him after realizing she's sitting too far away and he's not moving any closer, and puts her head on his shoulder. Point 3: Alisaie displays affection more freely (if a bit embarassed by it sometimes lol) while Alphinaud is a bit more reserved with it, typically waiting for others to initiate.

Alisaie starts to vent about her frustration regarding both the current situation in Garlemald and with Fourchenault(and the Forum as a whole), while also understanding where it all comes from. Alphinaud responds by looking at the people in questions views and feelings on the circumstances, while still agreeing that yeah, it sucks. Point 4: Alisaie is openly emotional (frustration being her typical form of expression) and tends to personally involve herself with most things, while Alphinaud takes things from a more distanced and factual point of view (while still expressing his own thoughts in a polite and professional manner).

After this they start to discuss the focal points of their respective characrer developments. Alisaie remarks that one's will and wants should be their own and not an extention of anothers, in the same way her character arc revolves around her finding her own reason for wanting to help the people of Eorzea, which she later admits that she has found. Alphinaud talks about how Varis' ideal of a single, united nation bereft of dividing factors was similar to his own ideals in the beginning, which he now admits is pure ignorance and will solve nothing but doom everyone to misery.

They make affirmations of their shared conviction and such, but the part that really hits this whole things home, is Alisaie asserting that she will stand by Alphinaud as he takes the lead. Because she has her role as an activist, she is the one who acts on what needs to be done and does it, whereas Alphinaud's role is as a leader and politician, to make it so that what needs to be done can be done. Alphinaud is a bit unsure if he can do it, because he's already failed so many times, but he won't give up and neither will Alisaie let him. She states as much with her typical dose of gently scolding love sprinkled in there.

The scene packs in so many details of them in such a nice way. Alisaie is outwardly emotional, typically unleashing her feelings in the moment and then calms down afterwards, while Alphinaud internalizes everything, holding on to his feelings for a long time and let them simmer down to a more managable level. When Alphinaud expresses his feelings more clearly, Alisaie is typically the more collected one(this is shown a lot in stb, like when we first meet Hacock and Alphinaud is instantly defensive, while Alisaie is the one to suggest at least hearing him out) and vice versa.

#they are actually very similar at the core but the way they react to things and express themselves are pretty opposite #one thing ive also noticed throughout the game #is that alisaie talks to wol with strong familiarity whereas alphinaud tends to be more professional about it #which isnt to say he doesnt show his affection or anything he does!#but hes like. extremely polite about it. as he is all things #techniaclly theyre like that with basically everyone #but i find it particulatly notable with wol due to how close they both are with them #i love them a lot #alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud leveilleur #final fantasy #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #ffxiv #xander rambles

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ltbarnes · 2 years

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Braces Are Breaking

Summary: Peter Parker does not have much family left, and the small part he has he protects fiercely. When he suspects someone is dating his sister, he’s determined to find out who it is. What he doesn’t expect is to do so under such dire circumstances.

Word count: 7.9k

Pairing: Peter Parker x adoptedsister!reader, Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Warnings: explosions, mentions of blood and minor injuries, mentions of sex, Peter being a little shit for a good moment

A/N: good of me to not post anything for almost two months just because I couldn’t finish a single story. i have more WIPs than what is acceptable at this point

Masterlist

Peter Parker does not have many people in his life. Not close ones, at least. Or now he does, maybe, with everyone at the compound and the team. But you were first—his sister. It doesn't matter that it's not by blood, he has not known anything else for as long as he can remember. His parents raised you as their own, and Peter loves you no less because of it.

And maybe it is because he used to have so few loved ones, people that he cared about and cared about him just as much back, that he holds onto you so tightly. Now, you're the only family he has. And yeah, Peter can admit that he's started to grow a makeshift family with the people he lives and works with. But you're his sister and that kind of bond is just a tad stronger than anything he has with the rest of them.

You've devoted so much of your time to him, neglecting yourself in such ways that Peter can't imagine ever repaying you for what you've missed out on. Interests, friends, your safety. He wants to make sure you're alright. Not only because he feels like he owes you and your parents that, but because you're the most important person in his life. He can't handle losing anyone now that his parents and May are gone.

You both were young when they passed away. And even with Aunt May taking you in as her own, she couldn't always be there. Taking care of two kids cost money that she previously didn't have, and more often than not she worked late nights that left you cooking on a stove you could barely reach just so Peter wouldn't go to bed hungry.

Not many people can blame him for feeling responsible for your safety and happiness. Even if he's your little brother, he protects you with a fierceness that overpowers the one an older brother would have. You're careless sometimes and often forget that you deserve what people crave of you too, maybe more than what all of them take without thought.

There came a time when he grew up for once, when he realized what you had sacrificed everyday for your younger brother. When Peter put on that mask, he was no longer depending on your care, and instead he could let you lean on him for a little while.

In the beginning, right after his newfound abilities revealed themselves to him, he would make things easier around the house in any way he could. With time his small acts of kindness developed from fetching your bag of chips from the kitchen without moving an inch to saving you from speeding cars and robbers. That was only once though, because since then Peter has forbidden you from walking alone at night even though you clearly disregard that ban. You're more careful though, he knows that.

You've known what he is for years. And maybe you don't really like him putting himself at risk like that, you even threw a shoe at his head during a particularly loud screaming match after the whole Vulture thing, but you've always been supportive. Too supportive sometimes, to the point where he had to give in and let you force him into moving to the Avengers compound when Tony offered him a place.

It's been hard on him, having you at a college campus hours away while he lives safely secluded in upstate New York. The security measures he nagged at Tony to install at your place did help a bit, he can admit that, but mostly he worries about wether or not you come home safely after walking home from a late class, if people are nice to you, if a frat guy has put something in your drink at some stupid party. Mostly he's scared that his enemies will find you, take you away from him for the purpose of hurting him. Only MJ can take away his worries, and that's just when he has a chance to see her ever since she started her classes at MIT.

Sometimes you come up to the compound for the weekend. Everyone notices how Peter's shoulders become a little less tight, his frown a little less prominent. Peter Parker loves his sister and not a soul has escaped that knowledge. Even Tony can admit, but only to himself, that he feels more at ease too when you're visiting because the goddamn kid can't stop fidgeting during the times you're not around.

Like now, for example, when you've just taken the drive back to campus after spending the Friday and most of the Saturday at the compound. Peter's been sitting quietly at the kitchen island, silently watching Wanda cook while Steve and Tony bicker on about some boring protocol.

"You lost in there, kid?" Tony asks, interrupting his conversation with the Captain abruptly.

Peter's eyes flicker hastily over to the man, clearing his throat from the thickness his hour of overthinking has brought. Not a word has been uttered, which is scarily abnormal for the young man. Usually the kitchen would be filled with seemingly endless descriptions of the latest version of some video game Tony could not give a damn about.

"I think Y/n is seeing someone," Peter blurts out.

A soft 'what?' escapes Wanda's lips, turning around with a wooden spoon in her hand, dripping tomato sauce into the pot while Steve raises an amused eyebrow. They share a look, a knowing one, that Peter misses entirely because he is focused on the warm evening light flickering outside of the window.

"What makes you think that?" Steve asks, clasping his hands over the counter.

Peter shakes his head, trying to rid himself of his frown. He does come across as a pouting child right now, he's aware of that. A kid crying for his mother when she's paying attention to someone else.

"I don't know, she's just...different. Like it's—sometimes she spaces out when we've talked the past month, but it's like she has this dreamy look on her face. She's thinking of someone," Peter forces out of himself, earning a warm chuckle from the red headed woman at the stove who's abandoned her cooking.

"Could help for her to get some. About time," Tony mutters, dipping his finger into the simmering sauce before Wanda has a chance to stop him.

"Don't say that, Mr. Stark." Peter scrunches his nose, closing his eyes.

Hands are held up in feigned innocence, raised eyebrows accompanying Tony's expression. "No harm done, kid. Was just a matter of time, having her around a bunch of horny college kids. You got a pretty sister, Parker."

"Tony," Steve sighs, sending a warning glare towards the man after seeing Peter's jaw clenched so tightly he's afraid the kid might shatter his teeth.

"I don't wanna think about that," Peter mumbles, gripping the counter in front of him.

Wanda clicks her tongue, uncrossing her arms over her chest to lay a gentle hand on his shoulder. "She is a grown woman, Peter. You have to let her make her own decisions," she says. "It's okay to look after her, but there comes a limit where you're crossing boundaries that should not be breached. And I do think she has learned how to handle herself by now."

"I just don't want her to be hurt."

"If it comes to that, we'll help you kick the punk down. But don't judge the guy before you meet him. If there even is one," Steve adds.

Peter nods, running a hand over his face, breathing in deeply. The guy who's stolen your attention better be a goddamn saint. He'll make sure of that.

The rooftop is cold, brisk and windy, as the golden evening light slowly fades into purple skies. You like sunsets, the endless pictures of them in your phone should work as proof enough, but right now all you can think about is the way your skin prickles with the breeze.

Your breath hitches in your throat, a soft yelp escaping your mouth, as strong arms wrap around your waist and lifts you from the ground. Cold metal seeps through the fabric of the sweatshirt you borrowed from him last night, palm splaying underneath the navy sweater over your skin.

"You scared me, Bucky," you say through a giggle, tugging at his arms to let you down.

He spins you around with both hands splayed out over the small of your back, greeting you with a soft smirk that he only reserves for you. Up until two months ago you believed he was incapable of being anything other than miserably grumpy.

Bucky nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply with a hand on the back of your head pressing you into him.

"Missed you, sweet girl," he mumbles, letting his left arm grip your side just a little harder.

"It's been a few hours, Buck. Saw each other during lunch," you say with a soft smile on your lips, because in reality you have no objection against the feeling of Bucky's hands on your skin.

He groans in answer, pressing his lips to your forehead before letting his palms wander up to your face. Your eyelids flutter closed, basking in the gaze of Bucky Barnes that can be warm when he wills it to. It always is around you.

"Hard having you around without laying my hands on you. That punk brother of yours really that big of a problem?" he mutters with a soft grin that tells you he's only half-serious.

"Are you kidding me? You know how he is. I think if he had his way no man would be allowed to approach me before I was thirty," you say.

"Wouldn't object to that," Bucky answers.

"You not included?" You smile.

"Me not included," he says with his lips hovering an inch from yours, turned up into a grin.

And there's nothing more you can revel in than the feeling of Bucky Barnes kissing you with a fever that leaves you weak in the knees and questioning if rom-com love really does exist after all. Bucky Barnes is yours entirely, and if he had his way he would plaster a sign on your forehead that tells everyone that you are his girl, and his only.

It is rather unbelievable, that the hot war veteran from the history books is currently holding you to his chest on a compound rooftop. Your sixth grade best friend would screech in excitement if she knew what you were doing right now. And the media would have a heart attack if they found out that the former assassin with a constant glare on his face can be the most beautiful man on the planet. That he can be so sweet, so tender and loving and gentle that you fear you might cry sometimes.

James Barnes is perfect in the way that he is just enough for you. In reality he is far from perfect as a person—he is rude, stubborn, impatient, self-deprecating, slightly violent and quite impulsive. But with you, for you, he is perfect. The only mishap in your relationship is the inevitable disapproval your little brother is going to have with it. You're quite sure it won't matter that much, the fact that it's Bucky who occupies your mind and time constantly, but more so the fact that any man is doing so.

"I can't believe I'm hiding on a rooftop from my little brother. I was supposed to have left half an hour ago," you say, gazing up at him with your arms thrown around his neck.

"I'll gladly show you off if you say the word," Bucky answers.

You shake your head, a soft smile on your lips that unwillingly betrays the ounce of fear you hold. Peter means everything to you, and it does scare you that he won't approve. He's so overtly critical of everything concerning your safety, including relationships and what not. A man with the history Bucky owns, and his many more years of life experience, could be factors that will leave your brother unhappy with it.

"Let's get you home, huh? Got a long drive ahead of us," he says, interrupting your momentary retreat into your thoughts.

"Us?" you ask.

"Ain't a chance in hell that I'm letting you drive in the dark all alone. Need my best girl safe." Bucky let's his arm travel upwards, over your shoulders before squeezing you to his side. The moment is awfully reminiscent of his days out on the town with a bunch of 40's dolls, a sense of sentimental normalcy that he's not sure he wants back. Having you is much better.

"You're such a sap, Barnes."

Now, Peter wasn't really sure about his predicament about your alleged secret affair. Or calling it an affair would be to exaggerate, and misguide, but secret it was. When he told the people in the kitchen about his worries, they were more of a hypothesis than something sure. But now—now Peter is sure of it.

The way you giggle like a school girl each time the phone calls leaves no doubt in Peter's mind that his sister has a big fat crush on someone. The person even sent you a letter. A letter. He saw it while visiting your place a few days ago, your name written in fine cursive on the envelope. And yeah, maybe it was shitty of him to read it, but what kind of little brother would he be if he didn't snoop through your things?

God, sweetheart, you have stolen my every thought and replaced them until there is none but the picture of you. I long for you each night your head is not resting on my chest, warm and soft in my arms. My beautiful, sweet girl. I have not found, and will never find, the words for what wonder you are.

Who even writes that? He's not sure what kind of person you've got pining after you but it sure as hell isn't someone from this century. Peter didn't read everything because there came a point where he was too grossed out with the lovesick thing going on, and you would surely murder him if you caught him red handed.

He's safe now, though. The whole team has found themselves out on the field behind the compound, engaged in some kind of made up sport with a ball and a bat that in the beginning was supposed to be baseball but quickly lost every rule when no one could agree on them. Granted, it's hard combining 21st century rules with both 40's and Asgardian variants in one single game. And you insisted on avoiding any form of running for as much as you possibly could, resulting in Steve eliminating the element for participants who wished not to.

It's messy and Peter has dirt on his clothes and he's pretty sure there's a stick nestling in Thor's hair. The game has been going on for a good hour, but no one seems to want to stop anytime soon. Most likely the day will end with a bone or two broken and maybe a concussion. He's kind of worried about you, because it seems no exceptions are made for none-Avengers when it comes to sports brutality. If it wasn't for Bucky grabbing a hold of your arm at the last second, Thor would have barged right into you.

"Hey, watch your step, Odinson! Almost knocked over her!" Bucky shouts, a large hand still holding onto your shoulder while you brush away grass from your leg with a chuckle.

"It's fine, James," you say, gently stepping away from him before the effect of his touch starts being much too noticeable.

Thor turns his attention towards your figure, allowing a sorrowful frown adorn his usually carefree face.

"I apologize, Y/n. It was not my intention to, uh, 'knock you over'," Thor says, nose scrunching when he tries to correctly rephrase whatever words Bucky used to describe the near accident.

"You don't have to apologize, Thor. 'S only grumpy man over here with the problem." You nod towards the scowling soldier behind you with a teasing smile.

You spot your brother chuckling from twenty feet away, abandoning the trio you've found yourself in to return to your post. Maybe you're just paranoid, but in moments like these you feel like Bucky's care for you becomes blatantly obvious. So obvious that Peter will notice something is going on between you and the 100-something-year old man.

"C'mon, let's get the game going again!" you shout, jumping in your place not out of excitement, but for the reason that you're growing increasingly cold in the wake of dusk setting upon the compound grounds.

A thoroughly hard ass game of constant need to display overconfidence in one's ability to run a lap around the field and competitive brawls of strength play out in the next twenty minutes. You're all sweating and panting—even Natasha who you never thought got winded. Quite frankly, your lack of superhuman abilities or any kind of sportsmanship is evident on your crouched figure in the middle of the field.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Bucky whispers, barely even leaning down enough for you to hear.

"Yeah...yeah, just a little tired," you breathe out. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom."

Bucky glances out over the still excitable players of the evening, assessing wether or not anyone would miss him if he came with you. He's missed having his hands on you the entire day, all because of your punk of a brother constantly popping up whenever he has a sinful thought of you walking around in his sweatshirt. And he never likes leaving you by yourself, wether or not it's for a mere two minute walk to the bathroom.

"Alone," you stress with a smug smile on your lips as you start walking backwards, letting your fingers brush his for just a second.

Bucky's face falls, a glare growing that normally isn't reserved for you but comes out in moments like these, when you deny him time with his precious doll. But for the sake of your wishes, he schools himself with a glance that he hopes sends the message of 'you're gonna pay for this later'. No matter how much he whines jokingly about the secrecy of your relationship, he really does understand your hesitance. After all, he hasn't found the courage to tell Steve yet about the woman he's head over heels for.

Maybe the jerk has noticed the slight change in mood whenever you're around, and the way an anxious night of thrashing and nightmares still comes with an okay day after, or how he has responded with a murderous growl at each of Natasha's attempts to set him up. Bucky understands that in those moments, it might be obvious how fucking whipped he is for someone, for you. Back in the days his charms were temporary and a means of having a pretty dame on his arm wherever he went, but rarely did it ever manifest as real affection.

Perhaps that is why he can't help but follow your figure becoming smaller with each step, already feeling the nervous tick in his limbs that comes with each of your absences. Those never really disappear until he can have his arms wound tightly around you, squeezing your soft flesh, trailing his lips over your skin, pushing himself inside of your tight heat. He's never as at peace as he is when you're near. It's torture knowing that whoever and whatever can hurt you when he's not there to protect you, and in that context he guesses he can relate to Peter.

Sometimes he feels guilty for worrying so much, being so unbearably overprotective that the constant nagging you hear is only a sliver of what runs through his mind. It's never that he does not believe you can take care of yourself—because you're so intelligent and kind and lovely, determined and frightening when you want to be. There hasn't come a time where you can't hold your own, and he beams with pride each time you get a chance to stand up for yourself.

Things have changed during his lifetime, and what used to be a man's duty is now merely an option. But whatever he feels for you, what rage and fury grows inside of him at the thought of your safety being severed, is not the result of societal expectations for what a man is to be for his woman. It's instinctual, a need and want that he does not think could ever disappear. Not even if you went and did the worst thing imagineable. Not even if you went with another man behind his back or shouted at him that you wish he was dead. Not even if you weren't his anymore.

And for a minute, Bucky gets lost in the game, in the brawl he has going with Sam about wether or not the latter cheated by running before Nat could hit the ball. He forgets for just a minute that you're not there, until the unmistakable sound of an explosion echoes throughout the grounds. It penetrates his skin, waves crashing into his chest as his heart stops beating for just a few seconds. The sound halts the game, forces nearly a dozen of alert gazes towards the buildings.

Wood clashes against ground as bats are dropped and playful happiness turns into guards risen, defense ingrained into the very cells of the people sprinting towards the compound. And maybe some of them have everyone's safety on their minds—the agents, cleaners, Tony, secretaries, Pepper. Any other day, moment, and Bucky would think about that too. But you're not here.

Lungs burn after seconds much too few for someone like Bucky to feel winded. Perhaps it's the growing panic, festering in his chest and eating away at the air that used to reside inside of him. He doesn't even see what passes him by, who follows him or keeps up or where people are going. The compound turns into a white tunnel, last streaks of sunshine coloring the walls pink and orange and Bucky doesn't see it even though you would stop a whole conversation just to point it out because you're not here.

You're not with him, instead somewhere inside of the smoke and splinters and inevitable fire that must have turned everything to dust. The thought is the only image inside of his mind, displaying so clearly that he's not sure if he's just imagining the worst or if the picture is what he sees in front of him. Not even the faint sound of your younger brother swinging past him registers, because Bucky is pushing everything and everyone out of his way as he accelerates towards the bathroom in the common area.

The fire alarm blares loudly, red lights coloring the hallways until it looks apocalyptic. Guns are raised in front of agents, careful movements and guards risen as they sneak through the compound in search of the source. There has never been an infiltration for as long as the construction has stood. Endless protocols have been worked through, demonstrated, picked apart. Every single person in the compound knows their role in the situation of an attack, but it seems everyone is a little out of place.

The smell of smoke creeps into Bucky's nose before he sees it. Coughs, deep and raspy and painful. Hushed talking and a shout. A nervous chuckle, but it doesn't matter to him because his ears are only searching for your voice. Black-clad strikers round the corner, attempting to hinder him from venturing any further. He can't hear what they're saying, and he doesn't give a single fuck wether or not he's allowed when you're not by his side.

"Y/n!"

His screams roar through the hallways, tears through the increasingly thick air that brings tears to his eyes and threatens to draw coughs out of his lungs.

And he keeps screaming, he shouts your name as loudly as he can because you're not answering and he can't find you. The trail of smoke grows thicker with each step, until he's closing in on the sterile white laboratory that he never steps a foot in because places like that hold too much weight in his memories.

It's empty, glass shattered and a small fire brewing and he sees that the explosion happened here but he still can't let himself calm down enough to reason. Angry shouts from the hallway, muffled by the blaring alarm, are pointed at the soldier as they desperately try to get him out of the area.

It takes a minute for him to sweep through the entire wing. And maybe he would have felt relieved if he didn't know that whoever caused the explosion is still out there, still amongst the walls of the compound. It forces him out, past the guards and towards the living room in the residential area.

And when he hears the voice of his friend, the friend that he's been forced to drag around for a century, it does nothing to calm him down, and nothing to ease the fear that you would already be too far gone to save.

"Buck!" Steve shouts, sprinting through the hallway towards the manic soldier. "They're in the living room!"

His light jog slows down as he nears Bucky, putting a warm hand on his shoulder before leading him out of the smoke. And perhaps Steve notices the tension in Bucky's shoulders, the incessant beating of his heart that has nothing to do with his frantic running. He makes no move to mention it.

Steve is much more at peace than Bucky. The latter has no room to think about the reason behind it, he only sprints towards where he only hopes he can find you. He needs you to be there, actually.

And then he enters the living room with frantic eyes searching through the small swarm of people gathered, searching for you. Some rookie agent is pushed out of his way harshly, in the way that Steve will scold him for later, but Bucky quite frankly doesn't give a damn about that right now. He'd take any scolding from the punk if it meant getting to you faster.

You can hardly breathe from the tight hold Peter has around you. Sometimes he forgets his strength, you do every now and then too, but in moments like these you allow him the reassurance he craves. If it means squeezing the air out of your lungs for him to wind down, you will gladly give it to him.

"I thought you were in there," he mumbles, clinging on just a little tighter while you try to suppress a wince.

"I wasn't. I'm okay," you whisper.

"You're not allowed to go anywhere alone now. Always gotta have someone with you," Peter adds, much to your dismay.

"It was an accident, Peter!" you exclaim, distancing yourself just slightly. "You're goddamn stubborn, d'you know that?"

The pouting glare on his face tells you much more than any words would, luckily, because Peter is ripped away from your line of sight and pushed aside before he has the chance to defend himself from your accusations. You barely perceive the offender before cold and warm arms wrap you up against a hard chest, a deep shudder escaping his lips while the scent of your shampoo takes over his senses.

"Hey!" Peter shouts, throwing his arms up in the air.

Bucky makes no move to acknowledge the now upset youngster. No, Bucky grabs your face and presses a wet kiss against your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw. His lips on your skin draws a faint giggle out from your mouth, nose scrunching in that gorgeous way Bucky can't get enough of.

The blood trickling down your forehead doesn't register until a few seconds later. A frown so deep it just might become permanent carves onto his face, letting his hands tilt your head until the wound is clear in front of him.

"You're bleeding," he says through a quiet growl. "You're hurt."

You gulp, letting a second pass by before your soft palm comes up to Bucky's cheek.

"I'm okay. I just bumped my head into a corner when I heard the explosion," you say softly. "It was just an accident in the lab, no threat. Everyone's okay."

Bucky barely listens to the words you're saying. All he sees is the indentation in your skin, taunting him with his presence somewhere else than by your side. He doesn't give a damn wether it's a paper cut or bones protruding out of your flesh—it's not supposed to be there.

His thumb runs over the small wound, collecting the drops of blood through a quiet wince from your lips. It smears on your skin, inching up towards your hairline.

"I need to clean up your wound," Bucky says mechanically, like he's retreating further into that place in his mind that festers on his misery and tells him that everything is his fault.

"What the hell?"

A collective mumble sounds through the room, eyes turned your way that you don't even have to ignore because Bucky takes up your entire line of sight. You see his glazed over expression. Your lips are pressed to his cheek the following second, fingers running softly over his stubble.

"I'm okay, James. I promise," you whisper, leaning your forehead against his and he flutters his eyes open.

"Oh my god," Peter gasps. "You fucking—you're dating my sister?!" he shouts, turning around abruptly with a groan.

"Hey, language, ladybug. There's seniors you gotta respect around here." Tony gestures around towards the two super soldiers, one entirely too engrossed with the presence of you in his arms to take offense.

It's Sam's desperate attempt to keep his laughter at bay that forces your gaze away from Bucky. For just a minute you forgot the presence of everyone else in the room, forgot that what the two of you have was supposed to be a secret. Somehow you haven't avoided the effect, the one that throws you into a space only you and the person in your arms can reside in.

"You're dating Bucky?" Peter asks, gesturing wildly to the man.

Your boyfriend's arm draws you into his side just a little closer, because while his reason tells him to lay it off for your brother's sake, there's another voice shouting at him to show everyone the pretty dame he managed to lure in.Who he belongs to.

"Buck?" Steve speaks up, a surprised look on his face that can be taken for neither displeasure nor happiness.

"Uh..." you breathe out, covering your eyes with your palm for just a second before you force yourself to meet the eyes of everyone in front of you.

Somehow everyone who's permanent residence is located somewhere else than the compound have been chased away from the room, leaving only the people who's taken your brother in like family.

"I guess...yeah," you nearly whisper. Why you sound so uncertain in the piece of your life that holds the most of your confidence is beyond you, but having a dozen of observing stares on your figure might just do that to someone.

"But he's—Y/n, he's old. It's Bucky, you can't—" Peter stutters, clenched arm on his hip with the other still pointing towards the now offending man with his hands on your body.

"Better get on with it soon, Parker," Tony says with an eyebrow raised.

What happens next you're not sure anyone could have predicted. The white strings fly through the air in a speed your eyes can't comprehend. It's not until the web forces Tony's arm to slam against the wall behind him that you register what Peter just did.

"Oh my god. Peter!" you scold, slipping from Bucky's hold with eyes bursting out of their sockets. You can't fucking believe he just webbed Tony to the wall like a petulant child.

"Well, that's a new side of you," Tony mumbles, breaking out of the sticky nets with the help of Steve, who casts a disapproving glare Peter's way.

The boy has the decency to look just a little embarrassed, with flushed cheeks and ears on the verge of red, but you can see it clearly on him that he doesn't regret it. He would probably do it again, because you know that boy and right now he's most likely finding it hard to control his feelings. He'd probably punch someone if he had the chance.

"Hey, kid," Bucky says, taking a step forward and it's evident that the move was a mistake. Peter inches back with a hardened frown on his face, jaw clenched so tightly you're slightly worried over the state of his teeth.

Your brother shakes his head, dropping his gaze to the ground. "I just—I need a minute," he mutters. "Sorry," he says bitterly before walking out of the room.

The place falls into painfully tense silence, silence that you can't stand. Everyone is either trying to avoid your gaze, pretending like the wall in front of them is a beautifully constructed artwork that deserves just an extra minute of observation, or blatantly staring at the two of you with a question mark above their heads. The latter is solely reserved for Mr. Stark, of course.

"How long has this been going on?" Sam speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest with a content smirk that he can't quite hide. Gods know how much the jerk has been nagging on Bucky to take a girl out for once, all the while he only longed to get home to you.

Bucky clears his throat, taking a step away from you to lean against the table behind him. You miss the warmth of his presence as soon as he leaves your side, exposing you to the awkward atmosphere of the room. No one is mad, you can see that clearly, more curious with the dramatic circumstances you've found yourselves in.

You hear Bucky tell the awaiting audience with a grumble in his voice. Mostly your mind is thinking of Peter. His reaction is the one you feared, that look of betrayal on his face. It doesn't feel right standing here before you've talked to him despite wanting to prolong it for as long as possible. Peter Parker is a sweet boy most of the time, but there's a temper hidden underneath the surface that comes out every once in a while.

"I'm gonna talk to Peter," you whisper in Bucky's ear, leaning up on your tiptoes.

He gives you a nod in answer. Not much is worse than having all the attention on himself, contrary to the attitude he kept 80 years ago, but he knows you despise it more. He refrains from pressing a soft kiss to your temple, watching you pad across the floor until he's left on the makeshift podium by himself.

It takes you a while before you find your brother rummaging around in the medicine cabinet. His hair is ruffled, he's run his hand through it a few times too many, but the tensing of his back, the straight posture, shows he's not made much progress in calming down.

The doorway is harsh against your flesh as you lean against it, digging into your side and you think it only feels that way because your nerves are running amok. However nerve wracking a presentation in front of the entire class is, it's no competition against talking serious feelings with your brother. Especially not when that brother is Peter Parker.

"What do you want?" Peter seethes, back turned while reading the label on a brown glass bottle.

"Peter, don't be that way. Please," you say softly with a sigh.

He shrugs, shaking his head so subtly you almost miss it. He's stubborn and it will take a lot of pleading from your side to get him to understand. It's always been that way, bargaining and comprising. Ever since you were a child you've been folding for his sake.

"I don't think you're wrong by being upset. I know you—you've always been protective, I know that." You gulp. "And James is older, he is. But not much, not so much that it makes a difference."

Peter grips the bottle in his hand, letting his movements come to a halt as he stares right down at the small letters inscribed on the back of it.

"He's the loveliest person, Peter. He's so good to me," you whisper, unable to stop the corner of your lips from quirking upwards. "I hope that—I want you to see that."

He gulps, tightening his hold on the counter while flexing his arms, rocking back and forth on his heels before shaking his head once more.

"Sit," he tells you without turning around.

"What?"

"Sit down." He nods towards the counter on the other side of the room. Your eyebrows furrow, but you make no move to disobey his sudden orders.

Your legs dangle as you hoist yourself up, glancing towards your brother as he pulls out cotton pads and band aids from the cabinet above him.

"You don't have to do that. It doesn't hurt," you say, running the pads of your fingers over the blood that's slowly drying.

"Just...let me do this," Peter says through a thick gulp, still avoiding your gaze as he pours sterilizing alcohol onto the cotton in his hands.

It stings as it touches your wound, lurching you backwards just an inch. Peter has a concentrated frown on his face as he cleans away the blood with a gentleness not many people possess. Despite the upset and anger, he finds it in himself to be soft. That's maybe what you love the most about him.

"I'm not mad at you," he mumbles after a good three minutes of silence.

Your eyes flicker up towards him, awaiting for any kind of continuation of his sentence.

"I've known you've been seeing someone for a while now. 'S just...weird knowing that someone else gets that much time with you. Bucky's fine, I guess. Still think he's too old for you, and he's trouble, you know I've told Tony that before—"

With a sigh you lean against your brother, wrapping your arms around him with a squeeze a bit tighter than what's comfortable even for an enhanced person like him. Cutting off his words before he can delve further into the "I like him, but" train. It's the sentiment that matters, right?

"I love you, d'you know that?" you say.

"Debatable," Peter manages to wheeze out.

A soft knock on the doorframe tears your attention away from him, letting your arms relax until they're resting by your side once more. You can't help but gaze lovingly at the man leaning against the doorway. Peter notices. He wants to puke into the trash can a few feet away. Maybe punch the guy staring at you just as warmly back.

"Am I interrupting something?" Bucky asks, crossing his arms over his chest while glancing over at the now tense Peter.

To your surprise, Peter is the one to answer the question before you even have a chance to formulate a coherent thought in that cloudy mind of yours.

"No. Actually, can I talk to you for a bit?" he asks, stepping away from the counter while nodding out towards the hallway.

Bucky gulps, giving a single nod that follows the furrowing of his eyebrows. However doubtful you are of your brother's intentions with the conversation, you let a giggle slip out when Bucky sends a pleading glance over his shoulder with a whispered 'help me'.

"I heard that," Peter shouts from the hallway.

Leaning against the wall closest to the door, strings of nearly comprehensible sentences single out through the murmur of voices. Words are heated and oftentimes not, exchanged with sincerity and an underlying bitterness that fades with the topic.

It's bad to eavesdrop, you're well aware of that, but you can't help from it when the subject of the conversation most likely is you. The fact that your little brother is trying to threaten your twice as big and almost old boyfriend is hilarious and very endearing, if it wasn't for the truthfulness behind Peter's words.

A good two minutes in, the hit you took to your head really starts to be felt to the point where your sight blurs just an inch. With a hand to the wall guiding your steps, you make your way back towards the counter where you previously sat. Listening in is no priority any longer when you desperately try to will away the stinging pain of alcohol in your wound and the throbbing ache in your forehead. Besides, the conversation is private after all.

Bucky tries and succeeds in keeping a smug smile away from his face as Peter talks with carefully chosen words and an underlying apprehension lurking behind them. After all, he does care about what Peter thinks of him more than anything, but the concern that comes off as anger means that you only have one more person who cares about your well-being. He can't be irritated with that, despite how much he's wanted to throw the kid out of the compound grounds the past few months.

"Look, kid," Bucky speaks up, uncrossing his arms from where they were resting on his chest.

"Don't call me kid," Peter mutters, glancing back towards the room you're in.

"Sorry, sorry." Bucky puts his hands up innocently. "Look, Peter—you're doing a damn fine job of taking care of your sister. I had sisters too, you know, back in the days. And I would take out the punks they were seeing out in the alleyway behind our house and hold them against the wall. Wasn't as peaceful as you, I guess."

Peter raises his eyebrows just slightly, because he doesn't want Bucky to see the amusement in the moment when he's supposed to be intimidating. Instead he crosses his arms, biting down on his inner cheek.

"I understand. And Y/n, she's—she's a little reckless and can be damn stubborn, and I know that you only want what's best for her." Bucky breathes out through his nose, shaking his head while looking down at the ground. "I want that too, more than anything. I'm head over heels for that girl, you know. 'S my whole goddamn world."

A thick gulp passes through Peter as he avoids the other man's gaze.

"Being with me is a tough job. Have loud nightmares and half the world hatin' me, but your sister—she takes it like a champ. And I would never put her in danger. 'S the last thing I'd ever do. She’s the best thing I got going for me and I don’t want you to think that I’m not doing everything I can to treat her right.” Bucky swallows the thin air, glancing up at Peter through his lashes, waiting for some kind of response.

"You never talk this much," Peter mumbles after a few seconds too long of silence.

A harsh puff of air escapes from Bucky's nose, head leaning back against the wall with a nearly invisible smirk of amusement on his lips.

"Yeah, sure don't," he says.

"I just get scared, you know?" Peter whispers, looking down at his feet. "My whole family's gone."

Bucky nods slowly. The two of you have been through more grief than a couple kids should be able to endure. Sure as hell ain't gonna let neither you or Peter fall ill again.

"It's not you. I think—I think maybe it's a little weird. But you're a good man. I know that," Peter tells him. "But if you ever do anything to upset her, and I mean just forgetting to text her good morning or something, I'm not gonna be this nice."

"Well, get in line, punk. Have a whole team of people waiting to beat me up if that ever happens," Bucky says. "They care about her too, you know. You have a whole dozen looking out for her. Doesn't always have to be on your shoulders."

Peter nods reluctantly. It's something he knows deep down—that he's too overbearing sometimes. Everyone is not out to get you. And if they are, there's a whole bunch of scarily strong people there to protect you and the little family he has left.

"Just don't—don't, like, kiss her in front of me or anything."

"Can't promise that," Bucky answers. You walk in looking all gorgeous and there's not much he can do about it, little brother there or not.

"I'll send that letter you wrote Y/n to every newspaper in the country if you do that," Peter threathens.

"Letter?" He furrows his brows, standing silent for a good ten seconds before he realizes to just which letter Peter alludes.

A sudden thump and the sound of clattering against floor can be heard through the hallway, tearing them away from their conversation and into the room beside them. The sight of you leaning over the counter, a sway in your stance, draws Bucky up to your side in a second.

"Hey, hey. Are you okay, sweetheart? You need to sit down?" he asks, hand resting on your back while taking on the full of your weight against his side.

But when you gaze up at them, it’s not with pain or helplessness on your face. No, you’re fuming. Peter is taken back with the rare expression of anger, so much that he stows away the realization that Bucky genuinely do care for you more than he’s seen anyone care for someone before. Even more shocked he is when a punch, though weak in comparison to what he usually receives, reaches his shoulder.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” Peter shouts, staring down at the target of your anger before sending a murderous glare your way. It has never been more obvious that you are siblings.

“You read Bucky’s letter?!” you say, hitting him again with Bucky’s hand resting on your shoulder, holding you back with a poorly suppressed smirk on his lips. “That was private, you asshole!”

The color drains from the young man’s face, turning his brown eyes into comically wide orbs. He takes a step back, averting his gaze from yours. If he knew you were listening in on them, like the little shit that you are, he would have never even mentioned it.

“You know what? Great to see you two. Lovely couple,” Peter stutters out, backing towards the door. “Approval granted. Have I mentioned how beautiful you look today?”

His voice fades out with the distance growing, until Peter Parker is entirely absent from the room. A chuckle rumbles from the man behind you, earning a soft swat to his chest as you lean against it, letting his arms engulf you from behind with a smile on your face.

“Glad to know he’s coming around,” you say.

Your Bucky laughs, muffled by your hair against his lips. And so do you, because how could you not when the warmth nearly spills out of his mouth?

“My beautiful, sweet girl,” he mumbles. “Still haven’t found the words to describe what wonder you are.”

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