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msgexymunson · 1 year

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Rumour Part Three: Roles

Description: as you and Eddie establish your relationship, it seems like no one can get in the way of it. Or can they?

Warnings: NSFW minors DNI or I'll poke you with a sharp stick, a trifecta of angst, fluff and smut, male oral receiving, fingering, slight switch dom!older!pierced!eddie x slight switch sub!fem!reader, unprotected sex, slight pain kink

A/N: I'm so glad you lot are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it, makes me very happy to see all your comments and reblogs, thank you!! Also I apologise to anyone called Estelle or Matt ;)

❤ If you enjoy this, please reblog the hell out of it, pretty pretty please! ❤

5.6k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Lying in bed with Eddie was everything. It was two in the afternoon, and neither of you wanted to get up just yet. A warm glowing bubble had settled over the both of you and you were loath to break it. Eddie's wearing a pair of black trunks, you're in an oversized t shirt and no pants, since Eddie had pulled them down three times last night and it seemed an exercise in futility to put them on again.

Your legs were tangled together comfortably, like a pair of puzzle pieces finding their perfect match. Stroking your hand over his chest, you were tracing the lines of his tattoos.

"How many do you have? Tattoos I mean," you clarify, circling a devils head and horns just by his mass of chest hair.

"Pass. I've no idea sweet thing. Dozens. A hundred? I dunno." His hand travels to yours, helping you trace around a scorpion on his abdomen, muscles flexing underneath your touch.

"Well, which ones the oldest?"

He shifts to show you his arm. "See these bats?"

You nod, fingers whispering over his skin to rub at the flock of faded bats on his forearm.

"Got them when I was 17. No real reason, just thought they looked metal." He snorted a little laugh at his past self.

You smile at the glimpse of the past he's allowed you to see. Gazing up at him, you ask "what's your favourite one?"

He grins and winks at you. "Oh that's easy. Shift over a little?"

You move backwards a bit whilst he switches positions to lay on his side away from you, displaying his completely tattooed back.

It's the only tattoo he has in colour. A full back piece of a monstrous dragon with five heads, wreathed in flame. The art is incredible, so intricate and beautiful. You run your hands over it, marvelling at the details.

"Its pretty awesome Eddie."

He rolls back over to face you, fingers fluttering over your figure.

"I love it. Its Tiamat, the five headed dragon Goddess, from Dungeons and Dragons."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You nerd."

He chuckles back. "Yup, 'fraid so."

Nuzzling his face into your side, you hear his muffled voice "what time is it?"

Nearly 2:15."

"Urgh, I need to be in the shop at 3:45." He sighs into your shirt, then sits up.

"I'm gonna take a shower." After pecking you on the cheek, he swings his muscular legs off the bed and makes his way to the bathroom.

You sigh in contentment at the empty room, then pad your way out to the kitchen area to make some coffee for the pair of you. Once the pot is done you pour one for yourself.

Busying yourself in the kitchen, seeing if there were enough ingredients to make pancakes, you hear Eddie's voice from the doorway.

"Oh you made coffee, thanks sweets."

"No problem baby- oh."

Well fuck me.

There he stood, completely naked, roughly rubbing a towel through his wet mane of hair. Body glistening, steam rolling off his skin, tattoos darker and gleaming wet. His muscles shone in the light, taunt frame perfectly on display. Damp chest hair dripped deliciously down to his happy trail. Your eyes were inevitably drawn to his impressive length hanging between his legs, slightly pink and heavy looking, piercing glinting, inviting you over.

Glistening in front of you, so effortlessly, he looked like some sort of heathen God. You'd happily get down on your knees and worship him forever.

"What you staring at? Something you like sweet thing?" Eddie tips his head at you, smug smile creeping across his face.

Your mouth is hanging open. Snapping it shut, cheeks glowing, you walk over to him.

"We had sex like, three times last night and you still blush at me naked? You're too cute." He chuckles at you.

He stops laughing when you reach him and drop to your knees, hands trailing up his thighs.

"Woah, pretty girl, what are you doing?"

You take his member into your hands, running your palms over his length, feeling it harden quickly from your soft touches.

"I wanna, I wanna give you head."

He smiles softly at you. "Sweets you don't need to do that."

You keep running your hands over him, one dipping to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your hand. He lets out a shaky breath.

"You always take care of me, you never let me." You frown. "But I want to. Please Eddie?"

He moans, eyes rolling back. "Always so fuckin' polite. Shit."

Running your tongue up the length of his fully hard cock, you cover it with open mouthed kisses, licking and gently sucking at his shaft. Eddie hisses; you hear the towel he was holding flump to the floor, large hand coming to rest on the back of your head, engulfing your hair.

Taking his tip into your mouth, you trace around each cold steel ball with your tongue, swirling around either end of the piercing, swallowing pre cum. Eddie groans loudly, thumb rubbing the back of your head with encouragement.

Rubbing your tongue back and forth over his slit, you use your hands to work his shaft, dribbling spit to help glide across him. His slippery hard length is pulsing in your hands.

"Holy shit, pretty girl, that's- fuck, that's really good."

You moan around him, humming at the praise, doubling your efforts. You need him to come. He makes you feel so good all the time and you need him to know.

Trying your hardest to please him, you take him into your throat as much as you can. Granted, it's only just over halfway down his dick, but from the noises he's making it's enough. You feel the strange bump of steel at the back of your throat. Using your hands for the rest, you stroke him firmly. Each movement conveying just how much he means, how much you want to worship him.

"Oh sweet thing, God that's- oh fuck, hmm." Eddie's lost the power of speech which you take as the highest compliment. He's listening to your prayers.

Releasing him from your mouth, you stroke him with your hand and gently take one of his balls in your mouth, suckling gently, running your tongue all over it. Eddie was clearly not expecting it; you feel his legs shudder and a high pitched whine expel from his mouth. You smirk, taking the other in your mouth for the same treatment whilst firmly stroking his dick, endeavouring to show him your devotion.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna- shit, please- let me cum in your mouth" he's breathless and twitching, flushed red, practically quivering at your reverence.

You take his cock back into his mouth and hollow your cheeks, bobbing up and down his length quickly, squeezing his balls in your hand.

"Oh fuck, I'm, fuck-" as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and swallow around his length, not stopping until he's whimpering, empty, his fill of your worship well and truly taken.

Halting your movements you behold him through damp lashes.

"Was that ok?"

"Fuckin' hell sweet thing, it was a little bit more than ok. Jesus H. Christ, I've got to go to work. Fuck, how am I this lucky?"

You blush and stand up, placing a kiss to his full lips.

"You want your coffee now?"

"Yeah, and a cigarette, before I do anything else." He crumples onto the couch, grabbing the towel to hide his modesty.

You get his coffee, add sugar and creamer, and bring him his cigarettes. Beaming at you, he takes you into his lap.

"What's this all about? Being all sweet to me."

You hide your head in his chest, suddenly shy. No matter how much confidence you portray in the world, the minute you get a look from Eddie it dissolves.

"I dunno, I just, I wanna take care of you Eddie."

He flashes an soft grin and holds you close, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "You already have sweet thing."

********************

Later that evening you're wiping down tables at the bar and collecting stray glasses.

"Hey, you may as well go, I'll finish up tonight, it's dead anyway." Your manager shouts over to you.

"Thanks!" You deposit the glasses in the dishwasher, hanging up your apron.

You check the time, 11pm. I wonder if he's still at the shop?

Eddie works late sometimes, he never wants to get up before noon so his client base tended to be night owls like him. Deciding to take the risk, you throw on your jacket and march into the chilly night air, walking the couple of blocks over to the tattoo shop.

Turning the corner, you see the shutters are down but the light is still on upstairs. You give it a minute, stopping to smoke a cigarette that Eddie had pre rolled for you. As you smoke, you hear voices, and a woman's laugh, clear as a bell.

Your stomach drops out from under you. Feeling your heart skipping a sick thud, then rushing blood, faster; faster than should be possible whilst standing still.

Ok calm the fuck down.

You take a breath, trying to calm the anticipated anger that's buzzing in your system and clouding your brain. It's stupid, you know, entirely unwarranted. It doesn't stop your mind leaping to the worst possible outcome.

Suddenly the door swings open and some Hollywoodian goddess swans out the door, all blonde mane, bust and teeth. Eddie walks out with her, giving her an embrace.

"Thanks Eds, you're the best!" She keens; shooting you what can only be described as a Look, then sways off on her too high heels.

"See you sweetheart!" He waves. The nickname forces an angry blush to the tips of your ears. Eddie turns to go back inside, then sees you and looks surprised.

"Hey pretty girl! What you doing here?" His grin is sugary and warm at your unexpected presence, settling the angry rolling feeling in your stomach. The rage is still there; no longer an explosive boil, but a simmer.

"Came to check, see if you were still working. I got off early."

"Come in then sweets, I gotta tidy up before I leave." He takes large strides back inside and you struggle to keep up with him.

Making his way back to his workstation, he's throwing away leftover bottles and paper towels covered in ink splotches, whilst you try and act as normal as possible.

"So, who was that?" Voice quivering ever so slightly as you take your coat off.

"Oh that's Estelle, finished her lower back piece today." He says, not even looking up, removing his gloves.

Ah, tramp stamp, I knew it.

"There's a band playing tomorrow night, at a bar not far from here, she said. Not too heavy, you should like it. What do you think sweet thing?" He looks up at you, eyebrows raised.

"Huh? Oh sure, whatever. Sure she's got great taste," Shrugging at him, you look around the walls of the shop at the various artworks hanging up.

"Woah, you being a bit judgy pretty girl?" He smirks.

"Why? She a librarian or something?" You bite back, eyes narrowing.

He laughs, "no she's a stripper."

"Oh course she fucking is," you mumble, cheeks burning.

He perches on the leather chair, arms out. "Hey, c'mere."

You huff, but move closer, allowing yourself to be hugged, arms pinned at your sides.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He brushes your cheek and you flinch, jaw clenching. Concern fills his eyes, brows heavy with confusion.

"Don't call me that. You just called her that."

You see realisation dawn on that stupidly handsome face of his, and his gaze grows softer.

"Oh, pretty girl, are you jealous?"

You look down at your own hands sandwiched between the two of you, unable to meet his eye. A firm grip holds your chin, pulling you to face him, smooth smile with a hint of smirk pervading his features.

"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. That woman's got more silicone in her than a Barbie doll. Not my thing." You giggle slightly, a small smile threatening to push your mouth corners upwards. "I call everyone sweetheart, it's nothing."

You pull away from him, eyes narrowing. "Yeah? Why call me sweetheart then?"

He holds his hand to his chest, miming being hit. "Ooft, you got me there. Force of habit."

He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles.

"I don't call her sweet thing." He pulls you closer, "or pretty girl." His hands begin stroking up and down your sides. "Those are reserved for you." Slow, soft kisses are planted on your neck. "I don't call her my good girl. I don't call her my girlfriend."

Girlfriend.

He's not asked. And why would he, what are you, twelve?

"I'm your girlfriend?" You look at him with wide eyes and a wobbling lip.

"Well I fuckin' hope so, I've said you are to everyone I've seen today. I think Estelle was pissed at me for not shutting up about you to be honest."

You can't help but giggle triumphantly at that. Staring at him, you look at his neck, the side untouched by tattoos. Mischievous look adorning your features, you bend and kiss into his neck. Softly, at first, so he melts into your touch, then you grip him, and suck.

"Pretty girl, oh fuck, what are you doing?"

You release his neck with a wet suck, looking pleased with the purplish mark that's beginning to blossom.

"Marking my territory."

He puffs out a laugh "oh my little jealous girl," and strokes your head.

Somehow that's makes you madder. You're not a jealous girl. You're a woman.

You shove him a little. "Lie back."

He smirks at you, but he listens, lying fully in the reclined tattoo chair, eyes trying to work out your next move.

Clambering on top of him, you tug at the hem of his t shirt. He pulls it over his head, exposing his torso. You run your fingers down, finding spots to suck bruises into, taking small mouthfuls of whatever exposed, ink free skin you can find.

"What you doing sweet thing?" He chuckles.

"I'm trying to find blank bits to hickey!"

He laughs out loud at your frustrations. Until you sink your teeth into his soft flesh.

"Oh pretty- oh fuck!" He practically yelps, hips thrusting upwards.

You gaze down at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, round eyes and heaving chest.

Oh.

"Wait, does that turn you on?" You raise your eyebrow at him, fingertips ghosting his sides.

"Is it that much of a stretch to think I've got a thing for pain?" He says it confidently, gesturing to his inky body whilst cockily smirking; yet this appears masked, false. Looking in his eyes you can tell how much you've affected him

Not saying anything, you merely pinch one of his nipples and twist it lightly. Eddie's mouth falls open, pretty little moan escaping those full lips, eyebrows knitted.

Grinning deviously, you bend over him and take the other nipple into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it, before nipping at it and pulling with your teeth.

"Jesus H. Christ! Fuck."

You look up at him. Eddie's flushing the prettiest pink colour, mouth practically drooling, eyelids heavy with lust. You've never seen him like this before, losing control. Wait, that's not it. He's relinquishing control, giving himself to you.

You stand up and he huffs at the loss of contact, until you begin stripping off your clothes. He hurriedly pulls his jeans and boxers down, not even bothering to take them off, just bunching them at his ankles. His dick looks painfully hard, almost dribbling, angry red at the tip. Swinging your leg back over you straddle him, sliding your pussy over his length, back and forth. Your nails drag harder down his chest than you ever would have dared before, leaving scarlet paths joining up his inked frame. He bucks, shaking underneath. You continue to glide your sopping heat over him, grinding over the shaft, relishing the tingle of his piercing when it flits over your clit.

"Please, sweet thing." His whole demeanour has changed, begging you, pleading with you. An idea pops into your brain.

Leaning forward, you whisper low and quiet in his ear, "are you gonna be a good boy for me?" The low groan he releases resonates from his chest and into yours, firm hands coming to settle on your hips.

You take his hard length in your hands and guide him into you, slipping gently onto him inch by inch. No matter how many times, it still feels like the first time. Your face scrunches up, discomfort evident.

"You ok sweets?" Eddie's rubbing your hip in consolation.

"Yeah, just... really fuckin' big baby."

He smirks, as always. "Never get tired of hearing that."

Stroking your hands down his chest, you hold onto his sides firmly, possessively, rocking into him. Each movement, each flick of your hips produces a ripple of pleasure. You grind down, rocking hard, back and forth, building up the rhythm, the pressure in your stomach building, your throbbing want intensifying.

Once you start bouncing up and down Eddie's done for. You see his face, desperately trying to keep some measure of control whilst he stares at your tits bouncing right in front of him, at his dick being swallowed up by your hungry cunt.

The noise of squelching sex surrounds you, moans and whines adding to the pornographic soundtrack. You can tell Eddie's barely holding it together, as he quickly reaches for your clit, rubbing almost vicious circles, eager for you to come before he does.

The tell tale tingle grips hold of you, a buzzing through your core and up your spine. The shattering of nerves; a delivery of white hot light spills from his fingertips and into your being, filling you to the brim with his rapture.

You throw your head back at the intense feeling, letting out whimpers of devotion to him, rocking back and forth, willing the moment to continue. You're barely aware of his own release, only realising when you finally snap your eyes open to see his slam shut, tensing beneath you, letting go in a gun shot, tension ripped from his body by your gripping walls.

Leaning forward, hot panting breaths mingling with each others, you press your lips into a searing kiss.

In between pants, Eddie manages, "not that I mind, but fuck, what's gotten into you today, pretty girl?" He chuckles, stroking your cheek with a rough thumb pad.

"You're mine." You simply say, protective hand laid onto the middle of his chest, over his heart. He grips your hand in his, and smiles.

********************

The next evening you're perching on a stool at a moderately busy bar, twisting a napkin in your hands. Nerves have you in their grip whilst you wait for Eddie to arrive, bubbling away in your tummy. It seems strange, but this is technically your second date, the first being when he took you to lunch. Eddie hadn't exactly courted you, he claimed you. If you were honest with yourself, you were his the first time he laid eyes on you.

Still wanting to impress him, you'd decided to dress up. Kitted out in a short black dress with a cute cherry pattern, lower cut than you would usually dare, fishnet hold ups and ankle boots, you were confident he would be pleased.

You had certainly attracted the attention of a few men dotted around the bar, lone sharks circling. Paying them no mind, you sipped your drink and waited on Eddie.

It was a pretty decent looking place, certainly nicer than the dive where you worked. The ceilings were high, with huge light fixtures hanging almost like art pieces, letting out twinkling light, bathing the crowd in spots of colour, sparkling on the red linoleum floor. The atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming band, people smiling, waving at friends, rushing back and forth to the bar to get drinks. You sat on a stool at the end of the bar, neatly tucked in a corner. The light was good here, and it was opposite the main entrance, perfect for spotting Eddie when he eventually got here.

Looking up to check the door again you lock eyes with another man. He smiles and starts walking over.

Well that's typical.

You roll your eyes, but as he gets closer, you breathe a sigh of relief. It's one of the regulars at your bar. At least you may not have to wait for Eddie alone.

"Hey Matt!" You smile as he walks over, giving you a brief hug.

"Hey darlin! Never see you in here, you're always working!" He grins at you. Matt always chatted to you when you were on shift, checking how you were doing. Objectively, he was a handsome guy. Broad shouldered, with a mop of messy ashen blonde hair and perfect teeth. He looked like he was around his mid twenties, and definitely a former jock judging by his physique.

You usually saw him with his girlfriend, an almost frightening replica of him in female form. In your head you'd nicknamed them the Cheer Clones since they reminded you so much of the cheerleaders in your high school.

"Where's-" don't say cheer clone, don't say cheer clone, shit what's her name-

"Jessie? We broke up." He frowns, looking down for a second, then waves at the bar tender.

"Oh, so sorry to hear that, you ok?" You pat his arm in consolation.

"I'll be ok, really. You want a drink?"

"Sure, bourbon and soda please."

He orders and pays for the round, sitting on the bar stool next to you.

"So, hot date?" He asks, waggling his eyebrows.

You giggle, hiding your face in your hands, "yeah how did you know?"

"Er, girl, you live in jeans! He must be pretty special." He grins at you.

You flush at the mere thought of Eddie. You can't deny, these past few weeks had been pretty spectacular.

"Wow, you've got it bad, huh? Pleased for you." He says, sipping his beer, looking just over your shoulder and flashing a small smile.

Before you can turn, an arm is thrown over your shoulder; rough stubble and soft lips touch your forehead.

"Sorry I'm late, sweet thing."

"Eddie!" You smile, looking up at him, but his stony glare is cemented on Matt.

"Baby, this is Matt, he comes to my bar. Matt this is Eddie, my boyfriend." You gesture between the two.

Matt sticks his hand out. Eddie looks at it briefly as if it offends him, before staring back at Matt's eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you." Matt puts his hand down but still flashes a winning smile at Eddie.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too Mike." And he motions his hand at the bar tender, immediately getting his attention and ordering a beer, arm never leaving your shoulders.

"Its Matt, actually-"

"Yeah, sure thing champ." Eddie says dismissively, slaps a note down to pay for the beer, and nearly drags you to your feet.

"Bands about to start, let's go my pretty girl."

You move, being pulled by the wrist, and mouth a 'sorry' at Matt. He just smiles and salutes you as you go past.

Eddie stops once you are free from Matt's gaze, stepping back to pull your arm in the air above you, making you turn for him so he can admire your outfit. You cannot help but admire his.

Eddie's dressed up for you. The first thing that grabs your attention and refuses to let go is the fact that your very sexy boyfriend is wearing eyeliner. That fact alone has you weak at the knees.

He's wearing a black button down, undone to the point of unholiness, exposing his chest tattoos and a thin silver chain just kissing the tops of his pecs. His black jeans are tight, hugging every muscle, leading down to chunky army boots. There's no other way to describe it; he exudes sex. It's as if every fibre of him was made to ooze this animalistic aura; you could nearly smell it in the air.

"You look really great Eddie."

Meeting his eyes, you see his pupils are blown, drinking in every ounce of your figure with blasphemous intention.

"Sweet thing, you look incredible." He pulls you close to wrap his arms around you. "Remind me never to let you wait for me inside a bar again."

You laugh, love drunk eyes roaming his face, "you jealous Mr Munson?"

He kisses you full on the lips, a fiery kiss, hot and messy in its delivery, tongue chasing yours. When he breaks away, you lean forward in hope, missing the contact.

"Why should I be? I already have you." He winks, then pulls you so your back is flush to his chest, manoeuvring you both to face the band who have just come on stage.

The band are indeed decent, and pretty soon the heady atmosphere, the bourbon, and the warm glow of Eddie's arms around you have you grinning and swaying to the music. You're moving your hips, ass against Eddie, enjoying the moment.

Eddie's large hands never leave you. If he's not wrapping his arms around your neck, he's holding you protectively by the hips, keeping you close to him. If anyone in the crowd got too close or rowdy, he was there, keeping you safe.

The band takes a break and Eddie whips you around to face him, hands rubbing up and down your sides, predatory gaze fixed on you.

"If you're gonna keep dancing like that pretty girl, I may just have to take you home." He smiles, biting his lip.

"Hmm, I think you can wait a couple hours." You throw your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips.

"Ok, I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he fishes out a note from his pocket and hands it to you, "go grab us some drinks on me."

You take the money and peck him again, scooting your way back over to the busy bar.

The crowd has merged and flowed, making their way to the bar, dam about to burst with the influx of people wanting the same thing.

You queue, waiting for service, when you notice a friendly face next to you.

"Hey Matt, how's your evening going?" You say, touching his arm.

"Great thanks, the bands really good. Look, sorry if I upset your boyfriend there."

You giggle and roll your eyes "don't worry about it."

"Seriously, I didn't mean to offend him I just-"

Suddenly, Matt has disappeared and you are staring at Eddie's torso.

"Come here sweets. Say goodbye to Mark."

You here a small voice say "it's Matt, actually-"

"Whatever kid" Eddie growls, leading you away from the bar.

"Eddie, what are you doing I haven't even got drinks yet-"

"Just come with me."

You allow yourself to be lead, pulled helplessly by the wrist. Eddie snakes around the crowd, leading you past the backstage area and into a small bathroom. It's strange that he seems to know the layout of the place so well. You stop him in his tracks, annoyed by his behaviour.

"Eddie, seriously what's up with you? You know I'm not just gonna leave you right?" Soft eyes meet his.

"I know sweet thing," and he presses you against the wall so fast it makes your head spin.

"I just need everyone else to know that."

Without further warning his hand is stroking up your thigh, fingers grazing your clothed pussy. Given his urgency, his clear need for you, his touch is soft. His other hand snakes to the back of your neck, forcing eye contact. The eyeliner only focuses how intensely he looks at you, dark circles drawing you in.

"Can I make you feel good sweet thing?" Fingertips fondling your heat, hot breath asphyxiating. Eddie overwhelms you, exuding heat, passion making it difficult to breathe.

"Yeah" you manage breathily, devastated by his presence, trying to keep some semblance of self. It's so difficult to when Eddie tears you apart by simply being there, in your space.

Rough fingertips pull your underwear aside and massage across your slit, finding your clit immediately. Your breath catches in your throat, shock of delectation pervading your senses.

Eddie slides two thick fingers deep inside you making you gasp. He rocks them into you, setting a ruthless rhythm, eyes never leaving yours.

"Now, I'm going to make you come pretty girl, twice in a row, and you're gonna enjoy it, ok?"

You mumble some semblance of yes, ability to concentrate considerably lessened by the sure movements of his hand. He curls his digits into you, hitting the spot inside you that makes your toes curl inside your boots.

"Eddie, fuck, yes" you keen and writhe against the wall, eye contact stripping you of any modesty, any thought.

Eddie's relentless movements continue as he sucks bruises onto the tops of your breasts, purple colouring blossoming against your chest, a blooming floral display of blood soaked skin.

"Oh my God Eddie," you moan, his sure hands coaxing pure bliss from your core, sopping wet noise of your arousal echoing through the small space.

"That guy out there, your friend, what's his name?" Eddie's eyes bore into yours, hand not stopping.

You're pulled out of the pleasure pit he's thrown you into, visibly confused. "You- you mean Matt? He's just-"

Eddie doubles his efforts, curling his fingers into you harder, palm rubbing hard against your clit, reigniting the fire in your belly.

"Oh my God Eddie, fuck-" you grind yourself unabashedly against his thick fingers, immense feeling towering over you, threatening to topple at his very command.

"You gonna come pretty girl? My pretty girl?" He says, dark eyes piercing into your very soul, "come then, come on my fucking fingers."

His gravelly voice and confident manoeuvres are pushing you over that edge, emphasis on his swear word singing through your nerves and into your cunt. Unable to process such feeling, such unbridled ardour, you moan loudly into the air without a care of who could hear you.

Your release pushes through you with all the force of a natural disaster. Whipping through your soul like a hurricane of sensation, cunt throbbing with the complexity of feeling. It rips away any insecurities, making you moan as loud as your body needs without fear of repercussion.

But it doesn't stop, not yet. Eddie's not through with you. His movements continue, coaxing you through the orgasm and into the other side, relentless and unabating.

"Fuck Eddie, please, its too much-"

Eddie's free hand grips your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

"Do you want me to stop." The question is real, but your commitment waivers, enjoying the relentless hold he has on your pussy.

"No, please-" you moan, your flower continuing to open to him, flesh yielding and soft as putty in his hands. A fuzz settles over your brain; you mind clouded, filled with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your eyes roll back, unable to control your gaze. Eddie shakes you lightly by the chin, forcing you back to reality.

"So what's that guy's name?"

You look at him through damp lashes, tears building in the corners of your eyes, utterly incapable of speech.

"I said, what's that guy's name?"

"Eddie, fuck I- wha?" Words a slur, body limp against the wall; the only thing keeping you upright is the burly hand firmly between your legs, fingers deep inside; your Eddie's marionette.

"Good girl. That's what I thought." Eddie smiles smugly, running his thumb over your clit in swift motions, fingers continually hitting that spot inside you.

Your second release feels even more powerful than the first, ripping a passionate whine from your throat. The noises you're making are incomprehensible as your whole body seizes up and your slick shoots out, coating Eddie's hand, your thighs, and even the floor.

"Jesus fucking Christ you are the devil." It comes out as a rush, almost one word.

Laughing deviantly, Eddie moves his hand and you nearly crumple to the floor. He catches you, pushing you against the wall with his body. Your eyes are drawn to the deep v in his shirt, to his inky muscled chest.

"Eddie?" You look at him and he stares back, faces impossibly close.

"Yes sweet thing?"

"You've ruined my underwear."

He laughs deeply. "What can I say, it's a talent. Can I take you home my little super soaker?"

You flush with embarrassment, hot cheeks aflame. "Eddie!"

Straightening your clothes and attempting to sort your hair out, you look down, taking in your love bitten chest for the first time. Purple red welts adorn the swell of your breasts in a low necklace of ownership. You'd be mad at him if it didn't make you throb inside.

He leads you back to the bar and towards the main entrance, attempting to get you home as quickly as possible to finish what he's started, when you're stopped in your tracks by cloud of perfume and blonde hair.

"Hey Eds!"

"Hey Estelle, you good? This is my girlfriend I told you about."

You smile at her dutifully, and spot a familiar face yet again, hovering by, his eyes trained on the marks on your chest.

"Estelle, nice to meet you! Hey, have you met Mark?" You gesture at him to move closer while Eddie snickers next to you.

He sticks his hand out to her "it's Matt actually."

Oops.

Masterlist

Tag list part 1- rest will be in the comments

@angelsarecallin @cutiecusp @pxrxcxa @spencerinmydrawls @munsquinns @sillypurplemurple @tiannamortis @walleloveseve @sinczir @biblichornerd @frogers @lauraasiain @madiisixx @leftdonkeygothgoop-blog @rafestarkeysblog @kittykatvenom @southside-serpent-bae @psychedelicsandsunsalutations @biblichornerd @angelina16torres-blog

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daechwitatamic · 11 months

Text

2. Retrograde || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 2: Retrograde

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, underage drinking, a broken bone, angst, kissing, implied protected s*x/ kind of the immediate aftermath to it, TIME JUMPS WC: 9.5k

Part 2: Retrograde

Retrograde: (noun) when celestial objects appear to travel backwards

You broke your wrist when you were ten.

You were riding your bike around the dead end. Minji and Jungkook were away at a cousin’s house. Seokjin was down the street, on his skateboard, trying the same kickflip over and over again. Sometimes he made it. Sometimes he didn’t. You weren’t riding together.

You don’t remember hitting the curb. You don’t remember what had distracted you. You don’t even remember flipping forward over the handlebars. Just the sickening burn that began at your wrist and pulsed in sluices up towards your elbow.

Seokjin had run to your house to get your dad, the forgotten skateboard drifting by itself towards the run-off drain, where the wheels snagged and it stilled.

Your dad had picked you up and carried you, sobbing, into the backseat of his sedan, buckling you in. Then he’d turned and looked at Seokjin, who was standing, stone-faced, behind him.

“Your dad’s not home,” he’d said, not a question. “I don’t want to leave you home alone - you can ride to the hospital with us. I’ll call your house when we get there and leave a message to explain.”

No one had cell phones yet, back then.

Every bump of the car jostled you and made you cry harder, holding your injury close to your chest. You weren’t even embarrassed to cry in front of Jin - it hurt so bad it eclipsed any other emotion.

And then Jin had reached out and held your uninjured hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Hey,” he’d said, and then put on a heavy accent. “What be a pirate’s fav’rite letter?”

You’d thought about it. “Arrrr,” you guessed, proud to have figured it out.

Seokjin had grinned at you across the backseat. “You’d think it’d be ‘R’,” he cried, amped to get to deliver the punchline as intended, “but his true love be the ‘C’.”

“Good god,” your dad groaned from the front seat. But despite the unrelenting burning in your arm, you’d smiled.

–

The summer you were twelve, you’d played hide and seek outside at night. The idea came on out of nowhere. Jungkook - eleven, that year - had a few friends sleep over one night, loud boys named Taehyung and Jimin, and someone had suggested it. You remember thinking your parents wouldn’t allow it, but Mr. Kim had said it was okay as long as you stayed out of yards if you didn’t know the family that lived there, didn’t leave the dead end, and came back inside by ten o’clock.

The neighborhood felt different at night; it felt different to be set loose like this - free to run and shout and hide as the day’s sticky humidity faded into something comfortable.

You’d split up, everybody running in separate directions, dark figures darting under streetlights and plunging into the shadows. You stuck close to the houses, trying to stay out of open spaces. You left your own yard, creeping two houses down, curling up in a ball next to someone’s shed.

I am a rock, you thought, hugging your knees as tightly as possible, making yourself as tiny as you could. I am just a rock. The dirt beneath you, gritty, dug into your knees and shins. In the distance, you could hear both trucks on the highway and the chorus of frogs in the streams behind the neighborhood. Sweat trickled between your shoulder blades.

I’m just a rock.

You heard someone’s footsteps approach you, in the dark, and then pause. You held as still as possible, trying to barely even breathe. Don’t see me, you thought. I am just a rock.

The moment stretched, tense, and whoever thought you might be a rock decided to move on, their footsteps carrying on down the sloping yard. You released a breath, unfolding a little, looking around. Seeing no one, you stood, brushing dirt and pebbles from your legs.

Seokjin appeared out of nowhere from the other side of the shed, and you’d stepped backwards instinctively, pressing your back against the grainy wood of the shed, holding your breath for the second time in minutes.

He spotted you, clearly - he froze, feet away from you, looking at you through the darkness. You didn’t move a muscle, hardly dared to breathe. It was so dark that you couldn’t make out the features on his face. He was all shadow. But somehow you knew - knew - that his eyes were on yours.

“You don’t see me,” you’d whispered to him. “I am just a rock.”

You’d heard him laugh, low, the surprised sound leaving his lips without permission.

He should have tagged you out. But after a moment, he’d carried on, leaving you to hide again in peace. “Goodbye, rock,” he’d said, barely louder than a whisper.

—

You were fifteen the first time you got drunk - really drunk - in Minji’s basement. You shouldn’t have - none of you should have been drinking in the first place, being underage. But Mr. Kim had gotten called into work and… it just sort of happened.

Seokjin had a friend over and they’d holed up in the basement with a handle of vodka the friend had hidden in his duffle bag. You and Minji and Jungkook had been on them like buzzards, trying to get in on the fun.

“Absolutely not,” Seokjin had told Jungkook, more serious than you’d ever seen him. “You’re only fourteen. You can hang out with us if you can keep your mouth shut, but you don’t get any.”

“Hyung -”

“No,” Seokjin had stayed firm, and Jungkook had caved.

“You two,” Seokjin had said, turning his gaze to Minji, who looked back at him innocently, like she was ready to follow every rule and would never put a toe out of line, “can have a little.”

Three hours later, you made it up the stairs to the kitchen barely alive, using your hands to help you balance on the steps. You’d gone up for water, but as you stood over the kitchen sink you were distracted by your reflection in the window. And then, the backyard beyond your reflection.

Somehow, you made it outside, tripping down the wooden steps to the grassy yard, spinning and landing heavily on your back. The night sky swirled above you, the stars laughing at what an idiot you were. The grass beneath you tickled, but you gripped it in your hands, desperate to make the spinning stop.

Somehow, Jin appeared next to you in the grass, a few feet to your left. “How’s the yard?” he asked.

“Spinning,” you told him thickly.

He reached out a hand and patted your arm twice. “It’ll stop.”

You stayed there in silence, watching the stars, clutching the earth beneath you, hoping you wouldn’t get flung off the ride.

“Sometimes,” you heard yourself say, your voice seeming to come from the constellations themselves, the moons too far away to see, “I feel like everyone looks right through me.”

You felt Seokjin’s eyes on you, but he didn’t say anything.

You nodded, licked your dry lips. “Yeah,” you said, like he’d asked you something, like you’re agreeing with something he’d added on. “Like maybe I’ll be see-through forever.”

–

You almost got a boyfriend when you were sixteen. There was a guy from school - you’d talk on the phone late at night, sit together at lunch, share answers to homework assignments before the first bell rang.

On a particularly rainy Saturday, he’d taken you on a date to the nearest shopping mall. It had been okay - you’d had pretzels, wandered through a few department stores.

It had been okay - until you ran into a bigger group of kids from school. You’d joined them for a while; they were his friends, and he jumped in their conversations easily, someone who belonged. You, the see-through one, smiled and listened. Always on the outskirts.

And then he’d said, “Hey, we’re going to go back to J’s dad’s house. You’ll be okay?”

It had taken you longer than you were proud of to realize he was leaving with them, leaving you alone. It had taken longer than you were proud of to feel pissed, to realize you should have done anything except smile and nod.

He’d been your ride there.

Your parents had been working. You’d called Jin - your emergency adult.

“Y/N?” he’d sounded confused. You’d never called him before.

“Are you busy?” you’d asked him, the shame crawling over you, burrowing under your skin and making you want to rip it off. “I need a ride. I’m stuck.”

“What?” His voice was sharp. You could hear background noise stop, like he’d hit mute on what he was watching or paused the game he was playing. “Where are you? What happened?”

You lowered your voice, giving him the shortest version of the story possible. You were met with silence, stretching so long that you pulled the phone away from your ear to check your service, to see if you’d dropped the call. “Jin?”

“I’ll be there,” he’d said, something tight in his voice. “Wait for me by the food court.”

“Okay,” you’d whispered, and hung up.

Outside, it rained in sheets. You stood and watched the waves of rain move left to right across the parking lot. People jogged in from their cars, hoods on or umbrellas aloft. When Jin’s car pulled up to the curb, you ran through the rain, trying to shield your hair with your hands. It didn’t work at all. By the time you slid into the passenger seat, you looked half-drowned.

“Thanks for coming,” you’d said, eyes on your shoes as Seokjin put the car back in drive and pulled slowly back into traffic.

“It’s fine,” he’d said, still terse. It was unlike him. He was so rarely serious, so rarely not making bad puns, so rarely not laughing like a windshield wiper. It made these moments feel… heavy, somehow.

He drove in silence for a little. You stewed in the passenger seat, sifting through embarrassment and anger and also - somehow - happiness to be here now, with Jin, even if it was at the cost of every cent of your dignity.

Then, he seemed to notice the shopping bag on the floor of the car, tucked between your sneakers.

“What’d you get?” he asked, voice light again.

“Shirt,” you told him, reaching down to pull the top from the bag and hold it up. “Cute, right?”

“Snazzy,” he agreed. “I think I should get one. You think they have my size?”

You laughed despite yourself. “You’re so lame,” you told him. “Besides, this totally isn’t your color.”

“Please!” he blustered. “I can look handsome in anything. I’d look amazing in that.”

You were really laughing by then. Minji used to get so annoyed that he made you laugh when he got like this - you were encouraging him, she said - but you genuinely found him so funny that you couldn’t help yourself. You always had.

“Sure, okay,” you told him, stuffing the shirt back into the bag. “You keep telling yourself that.”

As you neared your neighborhood, though, your mood sank again.

“Jin?” you asked, looking over at him. He raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes on the road.

“Could you maybe… not tell Minji? About today?”

He didn’t answer for a while, not until he came to a red light and could turn and look at you completely. “Why?” he asked.

You could feel it as your face reddened as you had to put words to your embarrassment again. “She… was right about this guy. I should have listened to her. I just… I’m not ready to hear I told you so.”

Seokjin stopped in front of your parents’ house so you wouldn’t have to run across the street in the rain.

“I never saw you,” he promised you solemnly. “But Y/N? You shouldn’t let people treat you like this. That guy’s an ass.”

You gave him a tiny smile before extracting yourself from your seatbelt. “Thanks,” you’d said, and then darted through the rain like it would melt you.

–

Jin left for college at the end of the following summer, weeks before you turned seventeen. You watched through a gap in your living room curtains, curled up on the couch in your pajamas, as Mr. Kim and Jungkook helped load Jin’s boxes and bags into Mr. Kim’s car.

It felt unfair, that he got to leave, that he got to turn right out of the dead end and have a life - and you were still trapped here.

When Minji came out of the house, giving her older brother a reluctant hug, you rose, feet taking you unbidden on a course in their direction.

Minji had grinned at you. “I’m glad you’re here, you can help me move my shit into his room.”

“Yah!” Seokjin had protested, pushing her shoulder lightly. “No one said you could have my room!”

Minji stuck her tongue out at him. “You won’t be here to stop me!” She started back into the house, then turned over her shoulder and called to you, “Come on, the bed will take forever to move!”

She disappeared into the house, leaving you and Seokjin alone next to Mr. Kim’s sedan, which was packed to the brim.

You didn’t look at each other; Seokjin leaned against the car with his arms crossed, eyes on the ground. You faced the car, and him, the house on the other side. You watched the reflection of his profile in the car’s window.

What could you even say to him? What words could you pull out of your soul that weren’t a total cliche, or completely inappropriate, or both?

Don’t have too much fun.

Don’t forget me.

Please, don’t go away and fall in love without me.

I really don’t want you to go.

In the end, you told him, “See you at Christmas?” and he’d nodded silently, and you’d said, “Okay, then. Good luck with everything.”

Then you’d slinked into his house to help his little sister commandeer his bedroom.

–

That’s only part of the story, though. If you’re flipping through moments you’d shared with Jin… there was one you skipped. You avoid it, give it a wide berth, like if you step too close you might knock it from its pedestal. Like you might get sticky fingerprints all over its protective glass just from looking, somehow.

Mr. Kim had thrown Jin a graduation party in June, two months before he left for college. It had been wholesome while the sun was up - the Kim men had taken turns at the grill, little cousins had run barefoot through the yard, a table had been laden with gifts and cards, blue balloons had been tied to the porch railings.

At night, though, it seemed like both children and adults disappeared, leaving only you in-betweens. Blind eyes had been turned to the cases of beer stashed beneath the sodas in the buckets of ice. Cars full of kids parked up and down the dead end street, unloading loudly and entering the even louder house.

You’d stayed close to Minji, hadn’t even had that much to drink. But the house had been packed with people, too loud, too hot, and you’d found yourself slipping out the kitchen door sometime around one in the morning.

The lights from the house cast squares onto the driveway. Past them, a figure sat on the ground at the end of the driveway, long legs stretched out in front of him.

You’d made your way over slowly, warily. Not sure if you were wanted, not sure if you were intruding.

He’d turned to see who it was when you approached. You think you probably imagined the way he’d softened when he saw it was only you.

“You good?” you’d asked.

“‘Course,” he said - which should have been a clue that he might not be. A one word answer? From Kim Seokjin?

You paused next to him, still a bit unsure. “You sure? You’re… sitting on the ground alone, outside your own party.”

Jin huffed out a laugh at this. “I just needed some air. Some space.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling instantly like you were ruining the space he’d been craving.

“You can stay,” he’d said quickly, reading your response correctly. “I mean… I don’t mind if you’re here.”

Relief flooded you. You’d leaned against the side of the car parked there - not Mr. Kim’s sedan, you didn’t know whose car it was - and eyed him thoughtfully.

“Are you scared?” you asked. Something about the question felt right, felt like you were zeroing in on the problem.

Seokjin laughed again, a little sarcastic. “Me? Never.”

You smiled at his back, seeing right through his bravado. “About what? What’s the biggest thing?”

He’d shaken his head, pushed himself to his feet, brushed gravel from his hands, then his ass. He’d turned slowly, walked back towards the house, paused just a foot from you.

It was always you and Seokjin, in the dark.

You were always more honest with each other in the dark. Inside, he’d be all dad jokes and video games, kitchen skills and skateboard tricks.

You needed some shadows to get any idea what he was thinking. It had always been that way.

“I dunno,” he’d said, hands in his pockets. “Classes. Dorms. Not having my dad around. Not being here to watch out for Jungkook.”

“That’s more than one thing,” you’d pointed out.

He’d nodded seriously, but his lips twisted in irony, like he was thinking a very clever joke and holding it in.

“Okay then,” he said. “Let’s go with: losing my place, here. Coming back and finding out that everyone just… moved on without me.”

He’d brushed past you then, reaching out to touch your elbow lightly on his way by.

It’s been over a decade since that night, and you still don’t know if he meant his family, or you.

You’re mad at yourself the second you’re back in your car. You’d gone there uninvited, you’d cooked for him. Obviously it meant something - neither of you were stupid enough to think it didn’t. So why had you run the second he’d tried to talk to you?

You berate yourself the whole way home. And you’re not the only one who’s pissed. Jin texts you before you’re even out of the neighborhood, though you don’t see it until you park at your complex, grabbing your phone from the cup holder where you’d tossed it.

[11:28 AM] Jin 😎: im confusing YOU? [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: im not the one who came to cook you breakfast and then bolted the second it got serious [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: THAT’S confusing

Defensiveness rises up in you like a wave. Where does he get off lecturing you after the shit he pulled two years ago? Hands shaking, you fire back, “no, you bolted BEFORE breakfast. the second you got your jeans zipped, if i remember correctly.”

You throw your phone onto the passenger seat like it’s burned your hands, closing your eyes and pressing your head back into the headrest, breathing out slowly through your mouth to calm your racing heart. Fuck, those had been fighting words, for sure. But you’re pretty convinced he deserves it.

When you get brave enough to pick it up again, he hasn’t answered. You’re not sure if you’re relieved, or more worried. With a sigh, you collect your things and head inside.

“Roomieeeeee!”

You’d barely unpacked since returning from Christmas break your freshman year of college, your suitcase open on your dorm bed, a small pile of dirty clothes on the floor next to you. You’d been about to move it all to the hamper, it just hadn’t happened yet. Your college roommate, Sheyla, had just burst through the door, crowing happily when she saw you.

You got along well with Sheyla - you’d probably stay friends after college. But no one could take Minji’s place. When you and Minji decided to go to the same college, you’d agreed to live separately, to preserve your friendship. You both knew you needed breaks from each other to maintain the love.

“Hey!” you called back, flapping a hoodie out of the ball you’d scrunched it in and smelling the pits. Into the dirty pile it went. “How was your Christmas?”

Sheyla tossed her bag on the ground and flopped backwards onto her bed, fingers reaching to turn on the fairy lights you’d strung up together.

“Honestly? Boring. No one lives home by me, it was old people central the whole time. How about you?” She looks at you, suddenly sharp-eyed. “Did you see that guy? Your neighbor?”

You glanced at the door in alarm, as if Minji could have possibly materialized there, just in time to overhear.

Sheyla clocked this and laughed. “She can’t hear us! I told you your secret was safe! So, did you?”

It had been your first holiday break going home, your freshman year of college. You’d seen Jin sparingly over the last two years - two winter breaks, two summer breaks, and the odd weekend here or there if he had things going on.

You hadn’t had a conversation in that whole time; you’d been to the house to see Minji, but you hadn’t crossed paths. You texted each other on your birthdays, maybe once or twice if something interesting happened.

It had been weird, feeling things shift, noticing him slowly become someone who used to be in your life.

“Yeah, his family came to my parents’ Christmas Eve party,” you admitted. “But we really didn’t talk. He didn’t even come sit in the same room as me and Minji.”

It was true; you’d stayed in the kitchen for most of the party, wanting to avoid all your parents’ work friends, who were going to ask you about how college was going, and did you like your classes, and had you made new friends, and did you have a boyfriend yet and - you were just too tired for it.

You and Minji had sat on the kitchen counter, crossed ankles dangling, sipping at beers and watching people pass by the doorways - one out to the living room, one out to the dining room.

Seokjin hadn’t come into the kitchen once - but you knew he was out there, because you could hear his wild laugh, his high-pitched complaining as he scolded Jungkook for something he’d probably started in the first place, his voice bouncing over the low tones of the others.

Jungkook had slunk into the kitchen near the end of the party. “Jinnie wants a beer,” he’d told Minji, reaching out a hand, somehow knowing you two had a six-pack behind you.

“Why can’t he come get it?” she demanded as she reached back, fingers closing around a glass neck.

Jungkook shrugged. “He told me to get him one.”

Minji narrowed her eyes at him, the way she does when she’s assessing, deciding something. Then she handed him a second bottle. “That didn’t come from me,” she told him, and he gave her a salute before grabbing the beers and scooting back out.

“Are you and Jin fighting?” you asked, leaning back against the wooden cabinets behind you.

“Not unless he’s fighting without telling me,” she laughed. “If that’s the case, I’ll hear about it later, I’m sure.”

It had bugged you, that he seemed to be avoiding you. Then you’d glanced out into the living room, and there he was, the beer in hand.

He was standing facing Jungkook, but his eyes weren’t on his younger brother. They were on you - and Minji - but they seemed… far away. Wistful, somehow. Then, he’d noticed you looking and he’d pulled his gaze back to Jungkook fast. But the redness took over his ears and crept down his neck almost instantly.

You still weren’t sure what that was about. The most hopeful, foolish, idiotic part of you hoped it had a guess.

“Well,” Sheyla had said with a sigh. “There’s always next time.”

You’d slept over at Minji’s that night, the two of you cramming into her double bed now that you were too old for sleeping bags on the floor. In the morning, you’d rummaged in the kitchen for something to drink - something with bubbles, preferably, but water might have to do - when Seokjin had shuffled in behind you.

You’d turned, surprised, a cold can of seltzer in your hand. “Oh,” you’d said, suddenly very aware that you were still in pajamas, hadn’t bothered with a bra. You crossed your arms, hoping for nonchalance, and tried not to eye the grey sweatpants Jin sported. “I didn’t think anyone else was up. Morning.”

He’d stretched, the movement exposing a strip of belly between the sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. “Morning,” he’d answered, voice gravely from sleep.

You’d watched as he started the kettle. He kept his back to you, turning over his shoulder to see if you were still there after a minute. You wanted to ask him - well, lots of things. How was college, how was he, why was he avoiding you, why was he being so fucking weird?

His back, wide and solid, said don’t. So you’d taken your seltzer and retreated back to Minji’s bedroom, wondering if you imagined the feeling of his gaze burning on you as you fled.

–

You were twenty when Seokjin graduated from college. You were home, too, most of your school stuff yet unpacked the morning they took his graduation pictures in the front yard. Jungkook looked barely awake, rubbing his eyes sleepily as Minji fussed over trying to get his hair to lay flat. Seokjin stood in the center of the yard in his cap and gown, and you could hear him in your head complaining that they were taking too long and could they please just hurry up and take the picture. You smiled over your cup of coffee and then removed yourself from the window before you could get caught watching.

He’d had a graduation party that night. You really considered not going; it had been four years since Seokjin had left for college, two since you and Minji had, and in those four years you’d barely interacted - just the niceties when your paths had to cross, when your orbits swung you too close together again. It seemed pointless to show up when you wouldn’t even talk, when the days of stealing quiet moments away from everyone else were long gone. It seemed pointless to go, just to spend the night cataloging all the ways things had changed in four years, getting your feelings hurt for no reason at all.

Jin had said he was afraid of everyone moving on, but he’d nudged you on your way - so, really, you ought to just go.

Minji hadn’t understood. How could you explain it? “I don’t think he really wants me there,” you’d tried, sticking to the most basic truths. “Jin and I don’t really talk these days.”

“Since when did you and Jin talk in the first place?” she’d demanded, half right. “You’re there as my friend. Now come on, get changed!”

The sun was setting when you finally let yourself out the front door, calling goodbye to your parents, and making your way across the street. It was log-jammed with cars - a rare sight - and people milled through the front and side yards, red cups and plates of food in hand. It felt a bit like deja vu - you’d done this for all three Kim siblings for high school (though you and Minji had a joint celebration) and now you’d go through the cycle again as you four finished college in waves.

Despite Minji’s needling, you’d felt a little off-kilter, a little out of place. The feeling had sent you into the backyard to look for the drinks before you even found Minji.

As always at their summer parties, there was a keg tucked under the deck - you had to know they put it there, or else ask someone. You’d never find it on your own as a first-timer. You threw your shoulders back to cast off the squiggly feeling in your stomach and made your way down, grabbing a plastic cup and feeling around for the spigot.

You heard a familiar sound across the yard - Jungkook’s voice, whining that he was out of beer.

“Hyung will do it,” Seokjin said, and before you knew it he was sidling around a group of moms with their toddlers to reach the keg - and you.

He stopped when he saw you, then ducked his head and came closer, Jungkook’s empty cup in hand. His ears were tinged pink and you weren’t sure if it was from standing in the sun or… something else.

“Hey,” you’d said, taking your thumb off the spigot and watching the foam on your beer slowly fizz away. “Congrats on graduating.”

“Thanks, I guess,” he’d said, sending you a sideways grin as he pulled the spigot from your hand and started filling Jungkook’s cup.

“You guess?” you squinted at him. That grin was disarming, devious.

He shrugged. “I don’t feel like I really did anything that special. Showed up for class, turned in my homework.”

“You’re right,” you deadpanned. “I rescind my congratulations, effective immediately.”

His grin widened as he laughed, pleased that you were playing along. His gaze lingered on you before he checked on his beer again, making you warmer than you’d been walking through the almost-setting summer sun.

Things felt… charged, suddenly. Energized. You were used to Jin feeling comforting, like when you were kids. You were used to Jin feeling like an emotional black hole, everything inside you gravitating towards his center, as you did as a teenager. But this… this was new.

“Are you done at school?” he’d asked, shifting slightly closer. He released the spigot, letting the foam on his beer start to settle and you picked it up again, filling the top of your own where it had settled and left empty space.

“One more final, but it’s online,” you’d said.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Jin watch you. You wondered what would happen if you said it - told him how you felt, or told him you’d felt like he didn’t want to be near you the last few times you’d seen each other, or told him how badly you wanted your hands on him.

“What’s taking so long?” Jungkook shouted from across the yard, starting to make his way over. When he saw you at the keg, his steps slowed, understanding crossing his face.

“I had to share,” Jin explained, waving a hand at you. You handed him back the spigot, finished.

“Minji’s inside?” you asked them both, stepping out of the shadows and back into the sunlit yard.

“I think so,” Jungkook said, and you’d given them both a quick wave and headed in. You didn’t miss the way Jungkook nudged at Seokjin’s ribs, causing him to spill the top-third of his beer.

Long after sunset, after the food had been cleaned up, after the families with little kids had said goodbye and headed home, you found yourself wandering through the backyard again. Minji had gotten a phone call from the guy she was dating and went into her room to talk - you could have sat in there with her, she wouldn’t have minded, but it kind of gave you the ick to listen to her being so sickly sweet and moonstruck.

Instead, you combed the house for a familiar face. Jungkook had a whole group of friends over, and they were playing a drinking game in the basement. Your parents, who had joined the party in time for the food, had told Mr. Kim goodnight and headed across the street, telling you to text them if you decided to stay the night with Minji. Most of Jin’s college friends who had come from out of town had filtered out.

You finally found Jin, nearly at midnight. He was in his room in the dark, lit up by only his phone screen. His door was mostly closed, and you hesitated in the hall, deciding to leave him alone and go back to bugging Minji in her room.

You hadn’t even turned around to retrace your steps when he called your name. Heart thumping, you’d pushed his door open a little further, hovering in the doorway. He was laying on his bed, on top of the covers, his phone screen casting his face in blue.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, turning his head sideways to look at you.

“Minji’s on the phone with the boyfriend,” you explained. “I needed to escape.”

Jin laughed, a little sputtering.

“What are you doing?” you’d asked, taking one tentative step over the threshold. You’d been in Jin’s room very rarely in your years growing up here. It seemed like new turf.

He told you the name of the webtoon he was reading, flashing the screen at you so you could see.

You had nodded, silent, stuck in the middle of his room. You didn’t want to leave, didn’t know how to leave.

“Can I… read with you?” you asked, tentatively. You didn’t think, didn’t plan, didn’t map out how this would work or look; you just wanted to stay with him, just wanted to get closer.

Seokjin surprised you; he immediately shifted over on his bed, closer to the wall, making space for you.

You had to tell yourself to move, had to beg yourself to move before you stood still so long you made it weird. You’d never been in or on Jin’s bed, and you’d never laid that close before - certainly not since you and Minji were little kids, all laying on the floor together to watch a movie. Never in context like this.

You lay next to him gingerly, afraid to break the spell, afraid the moment would burst like a bubble on a child’s sticky, eager fingertip. You felt exactly that way: like you wanted it so much, but you knew if you touched it, it would be gone.

Your head rested next to his, close enough that you could hear his even breathing, but your bodies stayed a good foot apart.

Still, even with the space between you, you could feel his warmth. His bed smelled like him - something deep and smokey. It could have felt thrilling - it could have felt forbidden. Instead, inexplicably, it felt comforting, peaceful. Like home.

And eventually, as you stayed there, you settled in. Your breathing slowed, your pulse calmed, and you actually got caught up in the comic on the screen. Jin held his phone above you both, waiting patiently until you murmured, “Okay,” before scrolling each time.

You don’t remember falling asleep. What you remember is waking up slowly, immediately unsure where you were. The early morning light was unfamiliar, grey. You stretched, feet reaching for the end of the bed, and then went stock still as you felt someone shift beside you.

Oh god. Had you hooked up with someone? Uncommon, but not impossible.

You took a steadying deep breath, bracing yourself to face your potential mistakes, and cracked one eye open.

Seokjin breathed through his mouth, eyelids fluttering in sleep, just next to your face. You had a split second of absolute alarm, your brain making the equivalent of !!!!, before it came back to you.

You’d fallen asleep reading on his phone. Nothing had happened. But his arm was over your side, fingers resting lightly on your stomach.

You stayed as still as you could, trying to make your brain stop making sounds like a broken motor, hoping Jin wouldn’t wake before you were ready to function like a human. You considered, for a moment, leaning into the situation - rolling into the cuddle, closing your eyes and sinking back down into fuzzy darkness, your face buried in his shirt.

You closed your tired eyes, ready to do just that when your brain suddenly began operating again and your eyes flew open, one hand slapping the mattress in panic.

Minji. If you were in Seokjin’s bed, that meant you were in the Kims’ house, which meant Minji was on the other side of the wall - could catch you, had possibly already caught you.

Heart pounding practically in your throat, you slipped slowly out from under Seokjin’s arm. He had stirred, rolling a little, tucking that arm closer to his chest now that it had nothing to hold. He didn’t wake. You breathed a sigh of relief and started hunting around for your phone. You found it on the ground - it must have fallen off the bed in the middle of the night.

When you checked it, your question was answered -

[1:52 AM] Minji: did you go home??? [2:07 AM] Minji: you could have said goodbye!!! 😠

You press your phone to your chest out of sheer relief. She hadn’t found you, hadn’t peeked into his room on her way through the house last night, hadn’t spotted you two spooning of all things.

“Christ,” you’d muttered, frustrated with yourself for the close call, for falling asleep, for being so stupid over Seokjin even now when you were grown and had separate lives.

You had slinked out of his room on tiptoe, had scooted through the house as quickly and silently as you could, scarcely breathing until you were safely behind the walls of your own house across the street.

You and Jin never talked about it. A precedent, really.

–

The path of your orbit swung you out again - back to college, away from home, back into your world of classes and dorm life. The pieces of your adult life started to click into place as your senior year spun by - grad programs, internships, hints at a life in a different universe than the one you’ve known.

You and Minji graduated, returned for the summer.

There was a night you’d laid across from Minji on the swinging bench in their backyard, her feet in your lap. You two swang gently, eyes on the constellations above you, listening to music play from Minji’s bluetooth speaker.

“Next year’s gonna be weird,” you said, because it was all you could think about, then. You’d gone to college together, but you wouldn’t be together for grad school.

“We’ll be fine,” Minji had murmured, eyes closing.

You’d nudged her with your foot. “Don’t go to sleep. I’m trying to talk to you. I’m nervous.”

She had opened one eye, nudged you right back. “We’ll be fine,” she repeated, more firmly. “It’s not like we’re going to live on campuses in different states. I’ll be right here. You won’t be far, either.”

You lapsed into silence again. The swing tilted you back and forth, lulling you half to sleep.

“I broke up with that guy,” you muttered, half hoping she wouldn’t hear you. Instead, she sat straight up, almost overbalancing the swing and dumping you both on the ground.

“You what?” she asked. “Why?”

“I just wasn’t feeling it,” you explained. You were twenty-one that summer, starting to look at apartments you’d be able to afford while working part-time around grad classes. “Honestly, I was just bored.”

“You always say that,” she accused flatly. “I’ve never understood this about you. Everybody bores you. No one… sticks.” Her voice softens and she adds, “I worry about you.”

You laughed, once, and struggled to sit up. “I’m fine, Minji. None of them were… right. Someone will be.”

“But how will you know?” she pressed. “If you don’t give anyone a chance, how will you know when it’s right?”

Your chest clenched. Because I know what it feels like when it is, you thought, but you couldn’t say that.

“I just will,” you’d muttered, not an answer. You’d gotten up from the swing, heading for the house. “I need some water.”

As soon as you open the kitchen door, Jin jumped a mile. He’d been standing at the kitchen sink… next to the open window.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Were you listening?” you demanded.

Jin had flushed pink before you even spoke, telling on himself. “No,” he said hotly. “I was just here, and the window happened to be open, and -”

“And you eavesdropped,” you finished.

He faced you, lips pursed thoughtfully. “How come no one sticks?” he asked.

You honestly thought you heard him wrong. “What?” you’d uttered, sure he’d repeat himself and say something else entirely.

“Why,” he said again, more slowly, “haven’t any of the guys you’ve dated lasted?”

There was a roaring in your ears as you stared back at him.

“What am I supposed to say to that?” you countered, your voice suddenly a whisper. “Jin, what do I say to that?”

He stepped closer, looking down at you, suddenly dangerously close to being in your space. He murmured your name, reached for your hand. His thumb stroked the back of your hand once, his eyes on yours imploringly.

What were you supposed to say - “because none of them were you”?

The kitchen door opened with a slam and you leapt apart, Seokjin dropping your hand and wheeling around to face the kitchen sink again. With shaking hands you reached for a cabinet that held cups and glasses, rummaging like you were trying to find a good one.

“Get me one of those, please,” Minji asked, poking you in the side as she passed you, before plopping into a kitchen chair.

“Sure,” you’d said, praying that your voice wouldn’t give you away. Seokjin slipped away, down the hall, into the shadows.

–

“What do you think of the wine?”

You were in spanx, a black velvet dress Minji had bullied you into buying, heels that made your ankles swell, and a lipstick called Pretty Petunia.

The wine was too sweet for your liking.

But for the sake of your date, who’d made you reservations at a fancy Italian place, you’d smiled and demurred, “Not bad. What do you think?”

You barely heard his answer. It was your third date, and you’d been more bored at each one. He hadn’t made you laugh even once.

As the candle flame between you flickered and danced, you downed two more glasses of the too-sweet wine and did serious damage to the bread basket. When your date asked you if you wanted to go back to his place for a nightcap, you lied and said you had an assignment due by midnight for grad school and needed to get home.

When he dropped you back at your parents’, you showered and got into sweatpants. You climbed on your bed and pushed your curtain aside just a few inches, leaning your arms on the windowsill and laying your head on them. Your phone buzzed by your leg - the date.

You didn’t answer.

You kept your eyes on the window, on the Kims’ house.

Seokjin had moved out earlier that day - really moved out, taking everything with him to an apartment a plane ride away.

You hadn’t told him goodbye, hadn’t snuck out to the moving van for one last moment. He hadn’t texted you, hadn’t looked up towards your window.

He’d just left, and you’d sat here and watched him go.

You rotated in place, wobbling as Seokjin slipped further from your life. You adjusted to the procession. Life hurtled on.

–

The first time you brought a boyfriend home, you were twenty-four. Three years had passed since Seokjin moved away, two since you moved out of your parents and into your “swanky” apartment, one since Minji had moved to her own place not too far from you.

You didn’t have any expectations for your parents’ Christmas Eve party - the three Kim kids were around some Christmases, but not all. You hadn’t seen all three of them on the same day since before Seokjin had moved out. You knew Minji was coming - you’d texted. The boys? Who knew.

You were excited to see Minji for the first time in a while. You were nervous to bring your boyfriend around your extended family. You were trying desperately to keep Seokjin from even crossing your mind. You weren’t excited to see him. You weren’t nervous to see him. You tried to keep the Seokjin part of your brain perfectly blank as you led your boyfriend, Daniel, up the front walk of your parents’ house, careful to point out the ever-present icy patch near the front door.

Your parents greeted Daniel warmly. You’d been dating about two months, and he’d met them not that long ago. He was a nice guy, at the end of the day.

“Come on,” you murmured to him, after you’d hung up your coats and taken off your shoes. “I have to introduce you to my aunts. I’m sorry in advance?”

He’d look at you wide-eyed, nervous. “Why are you sorry?”

“They’re just… loud,” you’d said, already steeling yourself for the squeals and hullabaloo.

Daniel held up surprisingly well, smiling genuinely and repeating everyone’s name back to them to make sure he remembered it. He was a nice guy.

Christmas Eve dinner went smoothly. You sat near Minji, the two of you catching up in quiet voices as the loud conversation flowed around you. Daniel, bless him, kept up with the larger conversation, taking a more active role with your family than you were.

After the meal, people floated around the house in groups. Someone put on a Christmas movie in the living room, you helped your mom put desserts out in the dining room.

You were standing in the living room, leaning against Daniel a little, chatting with Minji and watching the Christmas movie over her shoulder when the front door opened, shooting a blast of winter air through the room. That’s what made you look up - the chill.

Seokjin came through the door with his eyes down, working his feet out of his boots before the door was even shut behind him.

“Jinnie!” Minji cried.

A few things happened in quick succession. Your chest clenched, your stomach dropped.

Seokjin’s gaze followed his sister’s voice, then found you. You watched it on his face as he processed - seeing you, recognition and affection flickering to life, then confusion as he took in the stranger behind you, and then his face went absolutely unreadable.

Daniel wrapped his arm around you, hard, pulling you against him wordlessly. He’d never been so assertive the whole time you’d known him.

Later, he’d asked you, “Is there history with you and Minji’s brother? It seemed, when he showed up…”

Weeks later, when he ended things, bitterness caused him to spit, “Call Minji’s brother and cry about it.”

So much for a “nice guy”.

You’d wished you could call Minji’s brother to cry about it. He would have made you smile again.

–

Jin’s shoulders were under your fingers, his ragged breath in your ear, his lips on your jaw. Nothing existed but him. Everything you’d spent almost your entire life hoping for was right here, within grasp - he’d called you beautiful, he’d pressed his lips to yours like he’d die if he didn’t, he kept you safe in the space between your arms if only for a few moments.

Then, he’d stepped away carefully, holding you up a bit until you were steady on your feet again. You adjusted your skirt as he zipped his jeans and stepped away towards the trash bins - to deal with the condom, you realized. Then he was back, close enough that you could see him in the dark again.

You didn’t know what to say to him. You didn’t know how to ask if this was what you hoped it was - if he wanted you, really wanted you, wanted to be with you. You didn’t want to look stupid - stupider - if this was just sex, nothing else.

“You probably shouldn’t come in right after me,” Seokjin said. Was there something glum in his voice, or were you paranoid? “Minji will sniff that out so fast.”

“Yeah,” you said. Your voice sounded warped to your own ears. “Got it.”

Got it. This didn’t mean a thing.

You stayed there, pressed close to the house, hiding in the shadows long enough for your pulse to calm, long enough to start to shiver. You hadn’t gone back inside at all - instead, you’d crossed the street and entered your parents’ house, falling asleep in your childhood bed.

It was fitting. You’d cried yourself to sleep as a child and teenager plenty of times in that bed. Might as well do it again.

In the morning, New Year’s Day, you’d texted Minji, “what’s up at your house?”

She’d answered, “dad just took jinnie to catch his plane. why? whats up?”

You’d played it off, said something like “just wondered if you were as hungover as i am”. You laid on your childhood bed and stared at the ceiling, tracing the bumps and cracks you knew by heart. You reminded yourself that you hadn’t asked Jin for anything, hadn’t told him anything. You had no right to be upset with him.

The only move was forward. So, that’s what you would do. You’d move on, and so would he.

Which doesn’t explain why now, two years later, you’re furious again.

You avoid the neighborhood, try to slip back into your old habits and old routine.

Your mother, of course, calls you out.

“Haven’t seen you in a bit,” she says to you on the phone, a few days after you’d made Jin hangover soup. She keeps her voice so innocent, but you hear the unsaid - you were here so much and then you stopped.

“Want to go out for dinner?” you suggest. “I’ll treat you and Dad to somewhere good?”

“I already started cooking for later,” she says. She sounds sorry, but you’re beyond sure it’s all a trap. She proves you right by adding, “You could come here for dinner, though. I made your favorite.”

Of course you did, you tricky devil, you think darkly.

“Okay,” you say, long-suffering. “I’ll come for dinner.”

“We’ll see you at seven,” your mom says, and hangs up.

You feel entirely like you’ve been hoodwinked. You’re just not sure how yet.

When you arrive for dinner, you walk in warily, half expecting an unpleasant surprise of some sort. But you find just your parents, delicious food, and a quiet house.

You eye your mother suspiciously through the whole meal, but nothing out of the ordinary happens. You help your dad wash the dishes when you’re all done, spend a little time sitting around chatting. Eventually, you eye the clock and tell them you should get home. You give them quick hugs at the door and step out into the night, pulling the door shut behind you.

Across the street, the Kims’ house is all lit up. Minji’s car is parked in the street, not far from your own, which means she’s there too. You wonder how many more days Seokjin will be in town, before he fucks off back to his own city again. He’d said he’d stay for a few weeks, and you’re already nearing the halfway point.

You were stupid to even talk to him again. You were stupid to go to their house, knowing he was there. You were stupid to let him flirt with you at the bar, to nearly let him kiss you. You were stupid to show up, uninvited, and fucking cook for him like a goddamn girlfriend. You shouldn’t have done any of it. You should have stayed away.

You’re all worked up, thinking this, as you stalk through your parents’ front yard, pushing the button to unlock your car. You open the driver’s side door, still fuming, furious at yourself.

The door is jerked out of your hand as someone slams it shut.

Seokjin faces you darkly, one hand still on your car.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you scold him. “Seokjin, what the fuck.”

“We have a conversation to finish,” he says, ignoring this.

You close your eyes, lean sideways onto your car. You don’t have the energy for this. “I have nothing to say,” you tell him, opening your eyes again to look up at him. “I’m sorry I threw a cheap shot at you. All that… it doesn’t matter now.”

“It doesn’t matter?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

You shake your head. “It was so long ago, and it didn’t mean anything… I shouldn’t have even brought it up again.”

His brows furrow. He murmurs your name, the same way he had in the back hallway at the bar. “I don’t think you mean that,” he says gently, and it makes you even angrier, angry that you have to stand here and feel foolish while he gets to pity you.

“Which part?” you snap. “It was two years ago, we haven’t talked in those two years, and bringing it up has been completely fucking pointless, so where’s the lie?”

He grimaces, shaking his head a little. “I wondered for months if I’d hurt you… if you were upset. I was really hoping you weren’t. But, clearly…”

“Fuck you,” you tell him, a derisive laugh edging its way into your tone. “You don’t get to show up out of nowhere and feel bad about it two years later. I’m over it - I’ve been over it. I just never got to tell you to your face that you were an asshole, and now I can.”

“I was in a bad place that night,” he says, trying to explain. “I only -”

“I don’t want your explanation,” you snap, cutting him off. “Believe it or not, Seokjin, I’m not, like, dying to hear the list of reasons why you were out of your head enough to make a mistake like me, that night.”

He literally steps away, eyes wide, his hand falling from your car and slapping the side of his leg as it lands. “Mistake?” he echoes, horrified. “Is that what you think?”

This trips you, knocks you completely off the furious track you’d been barreling down. “What?” you say, unconsciously trying to buy yourself time to process, to formulate a response.

He steps back toward you, closing the space between you. One of his hands comes up and rests on your cheek. For some reason, you let it, staying still and allowing it. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers. “It didn’t mean nothing. It wasn’t a mistake, and I should never have let you think differently.”

And then he’s kissing you, slow and gentle, nothing like the fiery kiss you’d shared two years ago. His thumb strokes your cheek so gently it almost tickles. You open for him, letting him take you deeper, tilting your head back to give him more room as he shifts to press you against your car. Your mouth moves against his, his tongue teasing at your bottom lip. Then he’s sucking lightly at it as you sigh against his lips. Your hands are clutching his jacket, your hips pushing against his like they’re asking for trouble.

And then you’re opening both hands and pushing him away, scrambling to get your car door open again. He looks at you, bewildered, your name a question falling from his lips.

“I can’t do this again,” you tell him brokenly, as honest as you can be. “I can’t do it again. I think it’ll kill me if I do.”

You drop heavily into the driver’s seat, tug the door shut, and pull away. You buckle up as you drive away, Seokjin getting smaller and smaller in your side mirror, standing in the middle of the street in the dark, watching you go.

You drive five more blocks and then pull over, pressing your hands to your face as you gasp for air through shuddering, stomach-clenching sobs.

Seokjin was seventeen the first time you got drunk at his house, really drunk.

He felt responsible, since it had been his own fault - it was his friend Yoongi who’d come over with a handle of vodka. He’d been the one to tell you and Minji you could have a little. So when he watched you use hands and feet to climb the stairs and head up towards his kitchen, he’d followed, to make sure you didn’t fall down and get hurt.

He knew you’d gone outside because you’d left the kitchen door wide open. He’d followed, silently, closing the kitchen door behind himself. You were laying on your back in the yard, hands clutching fistfuls of grass, eyes on the sky above.

He’d laid next to you, a few feet away, asked you how the yard was.

“Spinning,” you’d told him, the word so badly slurred he almost couldn’t tell what you’d said.

And then you’d flopped your head towards him, those eyes swimming with something he thought he could understand, and you’d said, “Sometimes I feel like everyone looks right through me. Like maybe I’ll be see-through forever.”

Seokjin had reached across the grass, taking your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. He’d given your hand one squeeze, and you’d closed your eyes, turning your face back up towards the stars.

“I can see you,” he’d assured you. He didn’t know if you’d remember in the morning or not. But it had felt important to make sure you knew.

He could see you.

He had always been able to see you.

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ehehehehe i hope you liked this update!!! a little peek backwards :) thank you for reading and i hope you continue to enjoy!!!!!

i'm taking a week off of posting because I am traveling for a Family Event (send help) so part 3 will post on Friday, June 16th. thank you for understanding!

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padawansuggest · 1 year

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Hey so if you’re new here and haven’t been around longer than ten minutes you might not know that my fave fave fave tropes ever are 1: time travel and 2: Obi-Wan getting adopted by Mandos, so whenever I find a time travel fic where Obi goes back in time and is promptly adopted by Mandos I get so excited trust me there are a lot but rn what I really really really want is a fic where I combine one of my fave headcanon type things that I like to put in fics with my second fave trope being Force Sensitive Jaster Mereel and then combined with Obi-Wan and Anakin (and probably Shmi too lmao let’s have a force sensitive babies party here) as force ghosts with Jaster and suddenly one of them comes back all ‘YALL I KNOW HOW TO GO BACK IN TIME I FIGURED IT OUT’ and so they all go back in time with the pure goal of saving their peoples (Mandos, Jedi AND slaves okay we makin a trifecta of people who got the worst bullshit in Star Wars two of which got all the blame when literally all of it was Sith and slavers faults) and Jaster goes back in time to Korda 6 and looks around for Jango so they could retreat only for little grunts of ouchies I fell to happen and he looks over to see a small pile of toddlers Obi-Wan, Anakin, Shmi, (Boba and like six other clones you know I have to) and is all ‘oh shit. Please be potty trained please be potty trained please be potty trained’ and now he has to go find Jango to call them back to their ships and tell Jango he in fact has a bunch of new vod’ika all of whom still have adult memories and also can you hold Boba please he’s a crying mess he just wants Jango nvm you can be that one’s Buir he bites lmao NO DONT HOLD HIM LIKE THAT JANIKA I RAISED YOU BETTER and now they’re back to Mandalore and Jaster is all ‘shit. We made this plan to save ALL our peoples. Well fuck.’ And now he’s all wait a sec and calls up the Jedi (yes they had him on hold for 3 hours and he kept bouncing between departments it was very annoying with Obi-Wan’s little fangies teething on his vambraces making the most annoying sound ever the whole time) and now he’s able to sorta blank for a solid 30 seconds before blurting out that they have force sensitive babies and the Jedi can’t have them and then Anakin HANGS UP ON THEM YOU LIL SHIT THAT DIDNT SOUND GOOD and the Jedi sorta like text him back all ‘??? Good for you???’ And now Jaster has to call them again and explain that he needs help with these lil shits teething on his armor and throwing people into walls when they sneeze and the temple is all ‘listen we can send out a master with docs but we’re a lil busy looking for a Stewjoni initiate that disappeared from the nursery’ ‘oh you mean this one?’ *holds up Obi by an ankle who’s chewing furiously on a vambrace’ and says they can’t have him back the kara gave him that baby!!!!! So now they have to send out a team whereupon Plo and Dooku are suckered into a -three way with Jaster- a deal upon which the Mandos will help the Jedi leave the Republic who use them like attack dogs and then they can stop slavery together and raise babies!

Anyways. I just think that would be neat.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #jaster mereel #time travel #shmi skywalker #boba fett #jango fett #deaging #baby wan #tinywalker #plo koon #master dooku

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john-laurens · 9 months

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Today, on the 241st anniversary of John Laurens's death, @ciceroprofacto and I completed a trifecta of site visits related to Laurens's life and final days.

Site 1 (top 4 pictures): Sunrise at the Combahee River and surrounding lands

In the early hours of August 27, 1782, John Laurens fell in the Battle of the Combahee River, one of the final actions in the Revolutionary War. He was initially buried at the nearby Stock Plantation and was later interred at the Laurens family cemetery at Mepkin Plantation. We based some of our routes around these maps previously provided by @ouiouixmonami and @my-deer-friend. We couldn't directly access the point labeled as Tar Bluff as it was surrounded by private roads, but we were able to access a nearby boat launch. We also traveled through the Donnelly Wildlife Management Area as this may have been around the site of the previous Stock Plantation. It is located near a modern-day road called Stocks Creek Road.

Site 2 (middle picture): The Gibbes Museum of Art in Charleston, SC

Charles Fraser painted the shown portrait of John Laurens in 1805. Although it was not painted during John's life, it is my personal favorite Laurens portrait (out of the...3-4 that exist). It is not always on display, so I was excited to finally see it in person.

Site 3 (bottom 3 pictures): John Laurens's grave and surrounding landscape at Mepkin Abbey in Moncks Corner, SC

As previously mentioned, Laurens's body was moved from the Stock Plantation to his family's property at Mepkin Plantation. The property is now a Trappist monastery. There was only one other visitor when we stopped by, so it was very quiet and peaceful. The cross and American flag were already present at Laurens's grave. The land overlooks the Cooper River.

We have many more pictures that will probably be posted in multiple subsequent posts, but I wanted to post a concise compilation to commemorate Laurens's death.

#Marry someone who will get up with you before sunrise to drive down back roads that are not maintained #While also trying to avoid trespassing on private property #To take pictures of a river where a guy died almost 2.5 centuries ago #John Laurens #photo #Barely getting this posted on 8.27 but we did it

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shinneth · 9 months

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#Conway Day

Surprised this didn't survive the purge. This is Trifecta related, of course. During the trek from Veilstone City to Snowpoint City (covered in chapters 8-10), I was determined to make these two wear ACTUAL appropriate winter clothing for the journey. Sure, arguably Paul's default outfit could be adequate, but I added a lot of extra dangers to the long, arduous route up north. And Conway sure as hell wasn't getting there in his sandals!

Fun fact: Conway's goggles are in fact prescription goggles, so they are functionally the same as his glasses.

#conway day #my art #conway #pokemon conway #paul #pokemon paul #kohei #shinji #pokemon kohei #pokemon shinji #travels of the trifecta #pokeani

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theoutcastrogue · 4 months

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The Port & the City

Buenos Aires, photo by lasgalletas (Creative Commons CC BY-NC 2.0)

Introduction

City of witches and of asphalt, port with no exit to the sea! — La Portuaria, from the port of Buenos Aires

Some cities have a port, and some port cities have a port culture. That's how I call it, anyway. It's a very special thing. It's created by the furious economic activity that concentrates around the coming and going of ships, cargo, and people. A port needs to cater to all of that, the ships and the cargo, the shipowner and the dockworker, the captain and the deckhand, the tourist and the sailor and the fisherman. And that transforms the entire city.

Where a port city meets the sea, there's shipping companies, travel agencies, imports/exports, truck companies, posh hotels, shitty hotels, fancy bars, seedy bars, brothels, strip clubs, theatres, restaurants, casinos, bookshops, tool shops, souvenir shops, fishing supplies, and fresh fish. There's peddlers and businessmen, porters and accountants, all sorts of people, and they all mingle. They have to! The port's there!

Port cities have their own landmarks and geography, with docks, wharfs, piers, depots, gates, shipyards, and people can orient themselves by relation to the water.

New York City, photo by Kari Nousiainen (Creative Commons CC BY-NC 2.0)

Crime

My gold watch and my pocketbook and lady friend were gone And there was I, Jack all alone, stark naked in the room — the port of New York City

Port cities attract furious criminal activity. Firstly and obviously, everything that's smuggled will be smuggled through here, from cocaine to counterfeit handbags to guns to oil. (I mean crude/refined oil, though with the prices we've seen lately, olive oil is equally plausible.) Port authorities, customs, shipowners and workers, all can have a hand in the pie, a little finger or both hands shoulder-deep, depending on how high up the ladder they are.

Second, ports are always full of newcomers, sailors and passengers, and all newcomers are potential marks. Con artists, scammers, and grifters of all sorts can ply their trade here. There's also a lot of shilling for more or less legitimate businesses (come buy this, sir! rent a room here, ma'am! oh but you must have a drink there, buddy!), and peddling less then legitimate goods (may I interest you in a fine watch? Rayban glasses, I have Rayban glasses! 100% genuine!). And then there's good old pickpocketing. Although in most cases, pickpockets are not allowed to operate within the port itself: it's bad for everyone else's business, and unlike cops, "everyone else" can actually enforce that.

And third, there's the entertainment sector: the trifecta of night life, sex work, and gambling, all going hand in hand with the sale and consumption of drugs and booze. Expect the port city to be much more entangled in all that than other cities, and the port itself to attract the bulk of it, or the worst of it. Things that are theoretically illegal might be tolerated here, things that are heavily regulated elsehwhere might follow their own rules here, and things that are otherwise unheard of can be found here. What are you into? Step right up but beware: the large print giveth and the small print taketh away.

The upshot of all this is that people in the port's vicinity (not the whole city, though) are more likely to be involved, or at least personally know someone who's involved, in profoundly shady and/or illegal business. And that certainly affects the culture. Breaking the law is more "eh" than "oh my!".

Clydebuilt Museum, photo by Paisley Scotland (Creative Commons CC BY 2.0)

Politics

All my life I've lived beside the waters that they call the Clyde I build the ships and watch them glide down the Broomielaw, sir Trudge to work in sleet and rain, labour for another's gain know yer place and don't complain, that's the rich man's law, sir — Alistair Hulett, from the shipyards of Glasgow

A port displays furious political activity. Unions are strong here, because labour is not only working, it's working hard, manually, in the same spaces (so they can talk about it!), and facing the same dangers to life and limb. Working on the docks, handling cargo containers, and ship-building and maintenance are very hazardous jobs (scrapping even more so, I'd say dramatically so), and under these conditions, it's easier to spot the enemy. Not automatic though. Port cities are traditionally, but not unconditionally, strongholds of the left.

Today, it's extremely important for the left to take the ports, because if it doesn't the fascists will. The workforce here has significant ethnic diversity, coming both from inland (immigrants and local minorities) and from the sea (sailors who go around the world sometimes end up working in random ports). So basically, this either goes "proletarians of the world unite" or "foreigners are stealing our jobs", no middle ground.

By the way, if all your knowledge about port unions comes from The Wire, or worse (for our older readers) from On the Waterfront, please be aware that these are slanted depictions, and you don't actually know anything. [They're not equally slanted, The Wire is nowhere near the other one's level of shameless propaganda, nor so completely divorced from reality. I mean yes, unions can be involved in shady business; so can literally everyone else in the port. But On the Waterfront, without the slightest exaggeration, is to American organised labour what Birth of a Nation is to Black Americans.]

Valparaíso, photo by [o] Rolando Vejar (Creative Commons CC BY-SA 2.0)

Culture

Amo el amor de los marineros que besan y se van. Dejan una promesa. No vuelven nunca más. — Pablo Neruda, from the port of Valparaíso

The port's culture seeps through the rest of the city. This is where sailor lore gets created and spread, and a port by definition loves travel and the ocean. Many non-sailors fall for it hook, line and sinker, and write poems and sing songs and their heart swells at the mere thought of sailing. But their fascination is often rose-tinted, whereas people who make a living from the sea typically have a love/hate relationship with it.

Maiden voyages are important occasions in shipbulding ports. A ship's last voyage, before it goes to scrap, is also memorable. If the ship regularly docks there, it will be the talk of the town, and if it's a passenger ship [this assumes a geography with regular passenger runs], a whole mess of people will be sharing stories and memories, waving it farewell, shouting, applauding, crying a little. It can get very emotional.

There's also a silly sort of localism/professional pride going on, where even the port's accountants, who've never set foot below decks IF they've actually boarded a ship, feel like they're a different species of accountant, inexplicably tougher and saltier than their more, er, inland colleagues. No matter who you are and what you do, it's badge of honour to say you're from and/or work at the port, like you're automatically endowed with tenacity and street smarts. It doesn't make sense, but there you have it.

Rotterdam, photo by MaxAmy Photography (Creative Commons CC BY-ND 2.0)

Desire

In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who dies Full of beer, full of cries, in a drunken town fight In the port of Amsterdam there's a sailor who's born On a hot muggy morn by the dawn's early light — Jacques Brel (in David Bowie's adaptation), from the port of Amsterdam

A port is filthy, grubby, and hopelessly romantic. If it faces somewhat west, it's on fire every sunset. Silhouettes of gigantic cranes are framed by red clouds like alien tripods. The sun sinks into the ocean, and tell me, in the whole wide earth, is there a sweeter sight? Ships approach like sea beasts, and dock in their usual place like old friends.

A port carries the whiff of grease and petrol, the cool sea breeze, and the incessant sounds of waves and engines and – most of all – people. A port IS people, passing. And tell me, in the whole wide world, is there anything more exciting and heartwrenching than people passing? A port city can fill you with wanderlust and feel like a prison, or a warm welcome, or a devastating farewell.

And if you point a gun to my head and force me to describe a port in a single word, I'll have to say: desire.

Love me, leave me, hold me tight, walk away, forget. Look at how I broke inside, and how the sea has swelled! It's pouring out a riot of colours, scents, and lights, and in the city's gutter it's building paradise. — Ξύλινα Σπαθιά, from the port of Thessaloniki

Thessaloniki, photo by Arend Kuester (Creative Commons CC BY-NC 2.0)

La Portuaria - Un dia cualquiera (El bar de la calle Rodney) | the port of Buenos Aires

Ξύλινα Σπαθιά - Ρόδες | the port of Thessaloniki

Tom Waits - Step right up

Finbar Furey - New York City girls | the port of New York

The Dubliners - Go to sea no more | the port of Liverpool

Alistair Hulett - The Old Divide and Rule | the shipyards of Glasgow

The Dreadnoughts - Roll Northumbria | the shipyards of Tyne

The Longest Johns - Fire & flame | the port of Halifax

Maria del Mar Bonet - Merhaba | the ports of the Mediterranean

Cesária Évora - Mar de canal | the port of Mindelo

Susana Baca - Los marineros | the port of Valparaíso

Παντελής Θαλασσινός - Άσπρο καΐκι στη Νέα Πέραμο | the little port of Nea Peramos

Jacques Brel - Amsterdam | the port of Amsterdam

Social Waste - Kasbah | the port of Algiers

Πάνος Κατσιμίχας - Ο πιλότος Νάγκελ | the port of Colombo, so far from Lofoten

Ξύλινα Σπαθιά - Φωτιά στο λιμάνι | the port of Thessaloniki

#the city speaks #theory #trs #the ramblin' rover #pirate #booze #booze et al #no tears for the creatures of the night #smuggler #pickpocket #mixtape #prison ballads #ONE of these days I'll learn to be concise I swear #also I ain't translating Naruda to english #the Rogue's school of translation gives exactly zero fucks #but there's a limit #look it up it's called ''Farewell''#also I didn't include a planned section on immigration #because I got too fucking upset to write words

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runningkitten · 1 year

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It was a busy week @spartanracegreece. I got my Trifecta #19 🙌🏾🥳. My Trifecta #13 qualified me to the shield 🛡 in Greece. Love the backing on the shield, different from 2018 shield. The trifecta weekend medal was super cool 😎🙌🏾 Sharing a few items I received and or bought in Sparta, Greece. For my lifetime trifectas @spartan gave a lifetime shirt, cap and a patch. #MywaytoSparta #spartangreece #sparta #greece #spartan #spartanrace #spartaneurope #spartanwomen #trifectatribe #trifecta #spartantrifecta #ocr #salvadorena #salvi #americansalvi #spartanwomen #strongspartanwomen #medaladdict #travel #comraderie #spartancommunity #buildfriendships #goodvibesonly #europe #yolo #spartanstrongwomen #comraderie (at Spartan Race Greece) https://www.instagram.com/p/CkyneHEPJ36/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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meiliarotten · 10 months

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Trifecta

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairing: Medic x Heavy x Fem!Reader

Summary: How it started didn’t matter. The point was, what began as a joke that you all played along with for laughs had evolved. A few lewd jokes turned into barely concealed flirting. Then there were semi-serious discussions, which soon became very serious propositions. (Aka the self indulgent HeavyMedic Threesome Fic TM)

Tags: threesome, riding, size difference

Word Count: 3.4k

The Masterlist

None of you were sure who suggested it first. Honestly it just started as a dumb jokes between the three of you as you slowly became closer, both on and off of the battlefield. Perhaps it wasn’t even one of you who made the first quip. You wouldn’t put it beyond some of the other mercs to make some lewd remark about what you, Heavy, and Medic may get up to at night behind closed doors.

Of course now, how it started didn’t matter. The point was, what began as a joke that you all played along with for laughs had evolved. A few lewd jokes turned into barely concealed flirting. Then there were semi-serious discussions, which soon became very serious propositions. Which one of you three first suggested it seriously was also a matter of mystery. But you couldn’t bring yourself to worry about all those specifics, not right now.

The three of you entered Medic’s private quarters together after making sure the other mercs were either asleep or out of the base for the night. You glanced around anxiously. Heavy and Medic stood just a few steps behind you. You knew what you came here to do, and you definitely wanted it, but you had also been nervous from the very beginning.

Now, confronted with the privacy of the room, the bed, and the two men standing expectantly behind you, your anxiety seemed to have increased tenfold. So you froze up, waiting for a cue, a hint, or any other form of instruction as to what was supposed to happen first.

It was probably only a minute at the most, but it felt like an eternity until Medic finally approached you. He placed a hand on your shoulder gently, reassuringly.

“Do you still want this, dear?” He asked, smiling down at you softly.

“Yes, I do,” you said, taking a few breaths to steady your nerves.

“We will take care of you, девочка,” Heavy said. “No need to be nervous.”

You calmed down at the reassurance from the two of them. Medic kissed your forehead before moving to your lips and eventually to the sensitive skin of your neck. You sighed as his hands traveled down your sides until they reached your pants, quickly pushing them down until they fell to the ground.

You stepped out of them carefully, kicking them to the side so as not to trip on them. You heard Heavy come up behind you and soon felt his hands begin to explore your body as well. You relaxed into the touch, thankful that things were finally heating up. Heavy ran his hands over your thighs and paused near the waistband of your underwear, considering them for a moment. However, he ended up passing them up in preference for tugging up the hem of your shirt.

Medic, who was still occupied with your lips, only broke the kiss when Heavy began to lift your shirt up and off of you. You shivered as your skin was exposed to the air, now standing in just underwear and a bra.

Realizing you had been letting Medic monopolize you for a while, you turned to face Heavy. Now that he was so close, you could see how much larger than you he was. You practically had to crane your neck upward to look him in the eye. A slight sense of intimidation ran through you as he took one of your hands and guided you over to the bed in a manner that was almost gentleman-like.

Heavy sat down on the mattress, and only then did you lean in to kiss him as well. Attempting to do so before would have required him to awkwardly lean down to your level. Even with him seated on the bed and you standing in front of him the two of you were just barely at an equal height.

You heard fabric rustling behind you as Medic got undressed, simply laying his clothes on the ground as he approached the bed. You shuddered when you felt him behind you, leaning over you and pressing rough kisses to the nape of your neck, grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin and making you whimper softly.

As content as you were to simply bask in the shower of kisses and attention, the arousal between your hips was slowly growing more intense. Pressing your thighs together wasn't going to quell it forever.

It wasn’t long before any lingering nervousness was smothered by your arousal. You climbed onto Heavy’s lap, startling the larger man. Medic simply made a small noise of interest, not so different from the hums you had heard him make in a laboratory setting when observing an especially interesting specimen.

Heavy’s hands fell to your lower back as you squirmed, grinding your hips firmly against the bulge beginning to form in his pants and eliciting a soft grunt. He was surprisingly quiet, the complete opposite of how he was on the battlefield. You gasped softly as you pressed yourself against him, desperate for any kind of stimulation.

Your breath hitched when Heavy suddenly held you by the waist, forcing you to stay still. He grasped you gently, like he was afraid to break you, but it was enough to keep you from writhing against him, no matter how much you wanted to. With his strength, he probably could break you, but that wasn’t your main concern at the moment. Why did he make you stop?

“Is everything okay?” You asked, genuinely worried that you may have done something wrong.

“Yes, is just…” Heavy trailed off, glancing around nervously until his eyes landed on Medic, who had climbed onto the surprisingly spacious bed next to the two of you. “Doktor should go first.”

You didn’t even get a chance to ask why. Medic began to run his hands over your thighs, gently pulling you off of Heavy’s lap and into his arms. Heavy watched as Medic grabbed your hips, letting you grind against his thigh and stifling your whimpers with rough kisses.

You and Medic were on more equal footing when it came to how clothed the two of you were. His vest and shirt lay on the floor, but he still wore pants. Not for long, you decided, reaching to unbuckle his belt, pulling his pants down in a quick motion and freeing his erection.

Although he had insisted that Medic go first, Heavy apparently wasn’t going to just sit back and watch without participating. You jumped slightly as you felt one of his hands run down your back until it reached the waistband of your underwear, pulling the fabric down. You hopped off of Medic for just a moment, allowing Heavy to remove the garment completely. The moment they were off and tossed to the floor, Medic pulled you back onto his lap.

Aroused and surprisingly impatient, you didn’t waste any time sinking down onto his cock with a grateful moan. Medic allowed you to bounce on top for a few moments, but it wasn't long before he took charge, pushing you back and thrusting into you faster.

As you leaned back, you realized you weren’t lying back on the mattress. You were leaning against Heavy’s chest, essentially sandwiched between the two men.

“Don’t be shy, mein Heavy,” Medic groaned, “Go on, touch her.”

You looked back at the larger man with a blissful smile, encouraging him to do what he wished with you. Heavy tentatively occupied himself with the upper part of your body, as it was currently pressed firmly against him.

Realizing you were still wearing your bra, Heavy went to remove it. After a short struggle with the clasp- small clasps didn’t exactly mesh gracefully with large hands- he finally managed to take it off, leaving you completely naked.

Now with your chest exposed, Heavy rested his hands on your breasts, running his fingers over your sensitive flesh as Medic continued to fuck you against him. Heavy’s hands were massive, much like the rest of him. They practically covered your whole chest as he caressed you, groping softly at first, but soon growing a bit more rough as he began to give in to his own arousal. You yelped at a sudden rough squeeze, and he immediately backed off.

“мне жаль,” Heavy whispered, and although you couldn’t quite recognize the words, you recognized the apologetic twinge in his voice.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It actually felt kind of nice- fuck!” You cut yourself off with a moan when Medic thrust against an especially good spot. Noticing your reaction, he grinned and quickly made a point to keep hitting that area, turning you into a whimpering mess quicker than you thought was possible.

Heavy turned his attention back to your chest, eager to make you feel good too. After a few caresses he found himself holding onto your waist to keep you steady as your orgasm overtook you more suddenly than expected, your body writhing against him as you rode it out. Medic thrust harder into you, following soon after with a groan.

Heavy pressed soft kisses to your neck as you relaxed, your breathing gradually steadying. As you leaned against him, you became aware of something pressing against your back, reminding you that you weren’t done yet.

Still riding the euphoria from your previous orgasm, you turned to face Heavy with a smirk. With just a glance you could tell he was even harder than he had been before, his cock straining obviously against the fabric of his pants.

“It doesn’t seem fair that you’re the only one still clothed,” you said with an impish tone. Medic chuckled softly at how bold you were. Heavy laughed as well, albeit a bit more nervously.

“Perhaps you should do something about that, liebling,” Medic suggested, guiding your hands to Heavy’s belt. It didn’t take you long to remove it.

“Doktor,” Heavy said, with some slight concern in his voice, which didn’t really register in your mind as you eagerly unzipped his fly and pulled the waistband of his boxers down.

Oh.

Holy shit.

“Impressive, isn’t he?” Medic’s voice brought you back to reality, and you realized you were staring. Still, you couldn’t help but sit in stunned silence as Heavy shifted back to remove his pants and boxers completely, dropping them to the floor to add to the growing pile of discarded clothing. He glanced to the side, avoiding eye contact as if he was the one who was nervous.

It dawned on you why Heavy had wanted Medic to take you first. There was no way you were going to be able to take that without some kind of preparation. You still weren’t sure if you’d be able to, even now.

“Wow,” you whispered, mostly to yourself as you finally regained your ability to speak. Heavy’s face was flushed. It was humorous to see the large man looking so bashful.

“I understand if you do not want to,” Heavy mumbled, reluctant to look you in the eye. “I know size can be intimidating.”

“Oh no, I can do it,” you quickly stammered. Medic let out a small, incredulous laugh, which you tried to ignore. You placed a hand on Heavy’s face, leaning up to kiss him. You weren’t intimidated. Nope. Not at all.

“Go on then, liebling,” Medic whispered, “Climb on top.”

“Yes, that is best. Would not want to crush you, tiny girl,” Heavy said, leaning back to let you climb atop him.

All right, maybe you were a bit intimidated. Of course you only admitted this to yourself once you had positioned yourself over Heavy. Before you could make a move a soft ‘ahem’ brought your attention back to Medic, who held a small bottle up in front of you.

Lube, of course. You barely kept yourself from face palming for forgetting that. Removing the cap, Medic poured a generous amount of the bottle’s contents onto his hand before reaching around you and grasping Heavy’s cock, spreading it and eliciting a soft moan from the larger man as he did. You watched, your arousal heightening once again at the sight.

When Medic finally decided everything was ready, he put the cap back onto the lube with an affirmative hum. You took that as your cue to go ahead. With a deep breath, you began to lower yourself onto his cock.

Heavy groaned softly as you progressed. You, on the other hand, cursed quietly to yourself, maybe a bit louder than you meant to. Even with the lube, it was quite the task.

“Careful dear, there’s no need to rush,” Medic cautioned, placing a gentle hand on your back.

“I’m fine,” you gasped, rocking your hips in a desperate attempt to adjust as you finally took him to the hilt. It honestly took all of your willpower not to sob. It felt like your nerves were on fire, a conflicting combination of pleasure and pain that threatened to bring you to tears.

“She is very tight,” Heavy said, obviously concerned.

“Just try to relax meine liebe,” Medic whispered, continuing to stroke you back reassuringly. “It will feel good soon.”

“I know, just give me a moment. You can start moving if you want,” you said, your voice strained and not very convincing at all. Not to mention there was no hiding the somewhat pained expression on your reddened face. Heavy shook his head in response.

“нет. I do not want to hurt you, любимая,” he said.

“Here fraulein, lean back on me,” Medic said as he pulled you into his embrace. “Deep breaths, just like that.”

You leaned into Medic’s touch, letting the soft rise and fall of his chest soothe you until the pain began to fade into a pleasant stretch. He pressed soft kisses to the back of your neck, and you felt him smirk when you started to squirm, desperate for some kind of friction now that you had adjusted enough for it to feel pleasurable.

“There, isn’t that better?” Medic whispered, his lips brushing against your ear and making you shiver.

“I will move now, девочка, but will go slow,” Heavy said, sitting up, and carefully maneuvering the two of you into a position that offered him a bit more leverage. He looked down at you expectantly, waiting for permission to go on.

“Yes, please,” you moaned, nodding enthusiastically.

Heavy started off slow, just as promised, with long and gentle thrusts to carefully test your limits. You were grateful to see that he wasn’t the kind of man that thought his size would do all the work. He was very attentive, paying attention to your responses and taking note of what angles made you feel especially good.

It seemed that Heavy eventually decided that you were aroused enough to tolerate a slightly faster pace. It was only a small increase of speed, but the fact that he happened to be angled right towards your g-spot when he decided to pick up the pace had you moaning with abandon.

“Is this good, девочка?” Heavy asked, a bit startled but your stronger reaction, but eager to see more of it.

“Yes, please just keep moving like that!” You begged, trembling as Heavy managed to hit that sweet spot repeatedly.

Medic chuckled at your reactions as he began to take his time with your upper body, caressing your breasts as you writhed against him and gripped at the sheets below.

“That’s it, now it’s really starting to feel good, ja?” He asked as he teased you with small nips and bites along your neck and collarbone.

Any kind of response you had was cut off by your own desperate moans when you suddenly felt Heavy grasp your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts even more while holding you steady. It seemed he was finally ready to get a bit rough with you, and the pleasure made your head spin.

“Yes, that’s what I thought,” Medic said, laughing softly at your failed attempt to answer him. “You see, mein Heavy? I told you she would be able to take you. And she seems to be having just as good of an experience as you are.”

So, they had previously discussed this on their own.

“Da, she is very, very good,” Heavy gasped between hitching breaths and soft grunts. He gasped softly, every so often moaning a word or two in Russian.

You were a mess, moaning and frantically clutching at the thin sheets beneath you as the pleasure began to build. Medic seemed to find entertainment in simply observing all of it, every move, every shudder, and every obscene noise that fell from your lips.

“Oh, you are enjoying yourself, aren’t you?,” Medic teased, knowing that the answer was obvious. Yet, you still nodded in response, just out of habit and politeness. He chuckled at that. “Such a good girl, taking him so well. Perhaps with enough practice you could take both of us at once? Do you like the sound of that, schatz?”

A shiver down your spine, and you felt a slight thrill at the thought, a bit of intimidation, and a whole lot of anticipation. The idea of somehow being stretched even more than you already were brought you even closer to the edge, nearly toppling over it.

“Doktor,” Heavy moaned, cutting off Medic’s plethora of teasing remarks. “I am very close,”

Heavy shuddered, his thrusts growing uneven as he approached his climax. He was looking at you with a desperate gaze, clouded with pleasure. It was most likely a mirror image of your own expression.

“I believe she is quite close as well. Aren’t you, liebe?” Medic asked, still unable to turn off the teasing even for a moment. “You don’t even have to answer. I can tell by the way you moan and writhe against me. You’re going to come very soon, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes please!” You gasped, those three words alone being the only ones you could formulate at the moment.

Medic reached around to the front of your body, his hand traveling down slowly until he was rubbing circles around your clit as Heavy thrust into you. That was all the push you needed to send you tumbling over the edge. Heavy shuddered as you clenched tightly around him, his soft groaning contrasting with your shrill cries as he reached his climax as well.

You bucked your hips weakly, chasing those last aftershocks of pleasure before you went limp, breathing harshly and letting Medic run his hands over your body, soothing you as you came down from your high. Heavy rolled to the side, reaching out one of his hands to rub your waist, where red marks were beginning to form; the results of his grip tightening as he got rougher with you. It was so gradual that you hadn’t even noticed any pain, but now you could tell that you would probably have some bruises come tomorrow morning.

Medic, probably the least fatigued out of the three of you at this point, maneuvered your body between himself and Heavy. Even with the bed being larger than average, you were still pressed rather tightly between the two men. It may have been uncomfortable in any other circumstance, but you were so spent that you could have slept soundly on a pile of rocks.

Heavy unceremoniously threw an arm over both you and Medic, and you hummed contentedly at the sense of security it gave you.

“Medic?” You said softly, wanting to ask one last thing before you let yourself give in to exhaustion.

“Ja, liebe?” His voice was heavy, as if he was just about to fall asleep.

“About what you said earlier,” you paused, your face flushing. “Do you really think I could take both of you at once?”

Medic chuckled, suddenly sounding much more alert, and you felt the low rumble of Heavy’s laugh in his chest more than you heard it, making you turn even redder.

“Hm, tell me, liebling, are you open to doing this again?” Medic asked, not yet answering your question.

“Absolutely,” you said.

“Well then, I suppose it’s only a matter of time before we find out for ourselves exactly how much you can take,” Medic whispered deviously, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You smiled, excitement mingling with fatigue as you thought about what was in store for you. However, exhaustion would win out, at least for now. You let your eyes drift shut as the three of you fell asleep in each other’s secure embrace.

#merc x reader #tf2 x reader #medic x reader #heavy x reader #heavymedic if you squint #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #tf2 #medic team fortress 2 #medic tf2 #tf2 heavy #tf2 smut #minors dni

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cactusspatz · 6 months

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September recs

Get in, bitches, we've got small fandoms this month! Murderbot, Nine Worlds, and KJ Charles' Band Sinister for your reading pleasure. It just got cold here, so curl up with a hot drink and enjoy!

[note: the last Nine Worlds rec has SPOILERS for At the Feet of the Sun, so don't read it yet inmyriadbits! I stuck it down at the bottom so they're more avoidable.]

After Hacking by gamebird (Murderbot, gen)

Murderbot is not paid enough to deal with this shit. (It's not paid at all, which is definitely not enough.)

Series of short works at the period between Murderbot hacking its governor module and the first book. Varying quality, but a great look at its developing personality and sneaky skillset, and a number of sharp, painful dilemmas of the 'do I help and maybe blow my cover or do I let this shitty corporate thing happen' variety.

The mysteries of a marriage by scintilla10 (Band Sinister, David/Amanda)

Five times David consulted in a medical capacity on Amanda's gothic novels.

Adorable look at their marriage.

Variations on George Penn by beautifulduckweed (Band Sinister, George/Ned)

George Penn and Ned Caulfield: their lives and love viewed through a glass, darkly.

Lovely glimpse of a background couple from the book, with excellent use of outsider POV by way of fake excerpts.

Emerald Truth, Three Ways by toffeecape (Nine Worlds, Fitzroy/Kip)

Three ways truth serum could have been deployed during the Emerald Conspiracy case.

Very fun trifecta of scenes, and a mix of funny, tropey, canon-typical pining, and competence. Delicious!

Tell me what your heart's been through by alfgifu (Nine Worlds, Fitzroy/Kip)

The spear butt struck the side of his face, knocking him to the smooth marble floor. He was tired enough to lie there, gasping, until one of the guards hooked their hand into the loop of his arms where they were bound behind him, and hauled him back to his knees. “We will try that again,” said his interrogator. The man was wearing the full panoply of the Imperial guard and an incongruously friendly smile. “What is your name, barbarian?”

Truth serum AND time travel AND hurt/comfort AND Kip being a fucking badass AND fanoa feels to the max! I adored this.

#murderbot #band sinister #kj charles #nine worlds #fic rec #monthly recs

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fatecantstopme · 2 years

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Save Me From Myself

Pairing: BBF!Bucky x reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend get into a fight and he beats you. You go to your brother’s house for support only to find his best friend and roommate, Bucky Barnes, instead. Bucky is furious when you tell him what happened and he takes care of you.

Warnings: Angst, fluffy fluff. Domestic violence/assault. Use of pet names. Bucky being insanely protective.

A/N: I'm thinking I'll make a part 2...so, there will be eventual smut.

Part 2

Tears streamed down your bruised cheeks as you tried to drive the 5 miles to your brother’s apartment without crashing your car. You were silently praying that you wouldn't drive by any cops, partially because you were speeding and partially because you weren't sure if you were driving in your own lane. It was dark, your left eye was swelling, and the tears clouded your vision. It was a trifecta ripe for disaster.

By some miracle, you managed to get to his apartment in one piece. You parked your car and quickly made your way up the stairs to his third floor apartment. You banged on the door as loudly as you could.

After 15 seconds of no response, you knocked even louder and yelled your brother's name. "Steve! Open the door!"

A few moments later, you heard a man's voice yell a response. "Hold on, I'm coming. Sweet Jesus." The door swung open and you were met with your brother's best friend and roommate, Bucky Barnes.

"Where's Steve?" you asked as you pushed past Bucky into the apartment.

"Well hello to you too, (Y/N). Steve's staying the night at Peggy's."

"Damnit," you said angrily before dropping onto the couch with your head in your hand.

The moment Bucky saw your hands, concern flowed through his body. "What happened to you?"

"It's nothing. I just want to talk to Steve," you mumbled.

Bucky sat down beside you. "Well Steve's not here, but I am. Talk to me, (Y/N)." He reached up and gently pried your left hand away from your face. He gasped at the sight of your swollen eye and he lifted your chin to get a better look at you. "Who did this to you?"

You could hear the anger in his voice and it sparked a whole new wave of tears.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, don't cry," he said in a much softer voice. "Let me get something to clean you up with, okay?"

You nodded and wiped the tears from your eyes as Bucky rummaged through the closet in an attempt to find the first aid kit he was pretty sure was tucked in there somewhere.

A few moments later, he emerged triumphant, first aid kit held up in his metal hand. When he looked at you again, the smile slid from his face. He took a moment to really look at you and he began calculating all the injuries you had. Your legs appeared to be okay, but they were mostly covered, so he couldn't be sure. He couldn't see any obvious injuries to your torso, but he could tell you were in pain. You were cradling your right arm and your hands were bloody and bruised. His eyes traveled up to your face and he felt a mix of heartbreak and overwhelming rage. He pushed both emotions aside and focused on you instead. Your normally beautiful eyes were surrounded by black and blue bruises and the left one was swollen shut. There were several small cuts on your face, a split lip, and a large gash across your right cheek. Your hair was disheveled and your clothes looked haphazard. Normally you were always put together, so it was obvious that something bad had happened to you.

Bucky wanted to believe that no person would ever do this to you, but he had a bad feeling he knew exactly what happened. He knelt down in front of you and opened up the first aid kit. "You wanna tell me what happened?"

You shook your head and kept your eye trained on the front of Bucky's shirt, avoiding his eyes with your one good one.

Bucky didn't say anything as he started to gently clean the cuts on your face. The large gash on the right side looked deep, but not 'needs stitches' deep. You winced and inhaled sharply when he touched your face. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I don't want to hurt you. Maybe we should just go to the hospital."

"No," you said insistently. "No hospitals."

Bucky sighed. "Alright, doll. No hospitals. But I'd really like to know what happened."

You opened your mouth to lie, but decided against it. You just sat in silence as Bucky wiped the blood from your hands.

"You don't have to tell me, but I'm all you've got right now. I just want to help you."

"It was nothing, Buck. I just fell."

Bucky's jaw tightened and you realized that lying to him was not a good plan. "You fell. Into John's fists?"

You winced at his tone and started to deny it, but there was no point. Bucky knew you too well. And unfortunately, he knew John too well too. "He didn't mean it," you whispered.

Bucky let out a sound that was something between a growl and a curse. "That piece of shit means everything he does, (Y/N). I'll kill him for hurting you."

"You're not going to kill anyone, Bucky."

He looked up at you and suddenly you had a very different feeling in your chest. He was completely serious. "He deserves it."

Your eye widened as much as it could. "Bucky, what good would that do? It won't change anything."

He sighed and let go of your hands. "Fine. But if you go back to him, I swear..." he trailed off, his expression hard.

You didn't say anything and Bucky got angrier. "(Y/N). He's going to kill you if you stay. You have to know that. You're too good for him. You deserve the world."

You made eye contact with him and tears threatened to push their way out of your eyes again. "I know, I know. But where am I supposed to go, Bucky? We live together."

"You'll stay with us until we can get you a new apartment. I'll sleep on the couch and you can have my room."

You shook your head. "I'm not going to kick you out of your room, Bucky."

"You're not. I'm offering." He squeezed your arm and you yelped. "Shit, doll! I'm sorry. What's wrong?" He moved your arm to inspect it and you gasped in pain.

"I think it's broken," you said softly, voice laced with pain.

"We're going to the hospital, (Y/N). No excuses." You started to protest and he cut you off. "Either you walk with me or I carry you. You decide, but we are going to the hospital."

You could hear the seriousness in his voice, so you decided to stop trying to fight him. What good would it do? You followed Bucky to the door and he opened it for you to walk out ahead of him. He guided you down the stairs to his car, opening the passenger side door for you to slide in. Just that small act was kinder than John ever was to you. It surprised you slightly, but Bucky always treated you that way. Like you mattered.

Bucky drove in silence to the hospital; shooting glances over to you to make sure you were doing okay. His heart ached every time he looked at you. It broke his heart that you were in pain and that someone had done this to you. You were the best person he knew and he adored you. More than he'd ever tell you. Every instinct he had was screaming at him to keep you safe and to beat the ever-loving shit out of John. "You still with me, sweets?" he asked softly.

You nodded and attempted to smile at him. You winced in pain as the action made your split lip throb.

Bucky winced. "Maybe let's keep the facial expressions to a minimum, yeah?"

You nodded again. "Probably best," you mumbled.

Bucky pulled into the emergency room parking lot and helped you out of the car. As you walked through the front door, people turned to look at the two of you. When you reached the front desk, Bucky began to explain what happened, but the nurse asked him to step back and beckoned you to the side.

"Miss, what happened?" she asked.

"My boyfriend beat me," you whispered softly, shame covering your face.

"Is that your boyfriend?"

You shook your head. "He's my brother's best friend."

The nurse nodded. "So he didn't hurt you?"

You shook your head again. "No, he's the one who insisted we come here."

"Good. We need to make sure you don't have any serious injuries, okay? Go ahead and have a seat. We'll be with you soon."

You and Bucky took your seats and he leaned over to ask you what the nurse said. "She wanted to make sure you weren't the one who hurt me."

He nodded. "I would never hurt you. Never." He said it with such conviction that you were a little surprised.

You didn't have to wait very long to be seen by a doctor. When your name was called, Bucky tried to follow you, but the nurse told him he had to wait in the waiting room. Panic lit up your face and you said quickly, "I need him."

The nurse glanced at you and she could see the anxiety on your face. She nodded her head and gestured for Bucky to follow.

Once you were in a room, the nurse took your vitals and preliminary information. Eventually, the doctor came in to begin her exam. "Hello, Miss (Y/L/N). How are you feeling today?"

"Not great," you said softly.

The doctor nodded. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I got in a fight with my boyfriend." The doctor glanced over at Bucky, but you shook your head quickly. "Not him."

The doctor relaxed a little and turned her attention back to you. "What started the fight?"

"We got into an argument. He accused me of cheating on him and he got really angry when I insisted that I wasn't. He'd been drinking. He was just really angry," you trailed off.

"Angry or not, he shouldn't have hit you. What exactly did he do?"

You were clearly uncomfortable, so Bucky stepped forward and took your hand gently. "Just go slowly, (Y/N). It's okay. You're safe."

You relaxed slightly. "He hit me in the face several times. He wears this big ring on his right hand and it cut my cheek. He pulled me by my hair and dragged me onto the floor so he could kick me. I think he got my arm when I tried to protect my stomach. Then he just walked away and left me there." You paused. "When I felt strong enough, I got up, grabbed my keys, and drove to my brother's apartment."

"This is your brother?" the doctor asked.

Bucky shook his head. "No ma'am, I'm his roommate. Her brother wasn't home, but I thought she needed to come to the hospital."

"That was a good call. Especially if he managed to get a kick into your torso. We want to make sure you don't have any internal injuries. And it sounds like your arm might be injured as well." She stood up and got a closer look at your face. "Your face appears to look worse than it actually is, which is good. Just some bruising, swelling, and minor cuts. We'll make sure they're nice and cleaned up before you go so we can reduce the likelihood of an infection."

"Bucky already cleaned them a little," you said softly.

The doctor smiled. "It seems like you've got yourself a good friend."

You looked at Bucky. He looked nervous, but he shot you a warm smile. "Yeah, I think you're right," you murmured.

The doctor picked up your right arm and you gasped. "I can't be sure if it's a fracture or a break until we get an x-ray. I'll go order that and be right back."

You took a deep breath and watched as the doctor left the room. "Thanks for brining me here, Bucky."

"No way was I gonna let you out-stubborn me." You laughed for the first time all evening and it made Bucky smile. He'd always loved your laugh, but it was a rare sound lately. He actually couldn't remember the last time he'd heard it. "I miss that laugh."

Surprise lit up your face and he blushed slightly. He hadn't intended to say it out loud, but when your lips curved into a small smile, his heart started beating normally again. "I kind of miss it too."

"Ever since you started dating John, you've just seemed...sadder, somehow. You were always so bubbly and fun when we were kids."

You shrugged. "I guess I didn't really realize how much I'd changed until it was too late."

"It's never too late."

You looked up at him. "I don't feel like myself. I haven't for years. I don't know if I'll ever get that back."

He squeezed your hand gently. "You will. Steve and I will help you. We're the ones who know you best."

The mention of your brother's name brought you back to reality. Bucky was your friend, sure, but that was it. That's all it had ever been. You were his best friend's kid sister. Nothing more. A part of you had always had a crush on Bucky, even while you were with John, but that was something you would never act on. It would be too awkward for your brother if his best friend rejected you.

"Hey sweets, where's that head at?"

You shook your head to clear your thoughts. "Sorry, I was just lost in my thoughts." You were saved from having to explain more by the entrance of a hospital tech.

"Hi, Miss (Y/L/N). I'm here to take you for your x-ray."

Bucky promised to be there when you returned, so you allowed the tech to lead you to radiology for your x-ray.

30 minutes after the exam, you had your results in hand, your cuts cleaned, and a prescription to prevent infection and help with the pain.

Bucky helped you into the car before sliding into the driver's seat. "At least it's not broken," he said gently.

"It's fractured in two places, Buck," you mumbled.

He sighed and looked at the brace they'd put on your arm. It was just to help support the bone as it healed, but it would serve as a reminder of what happened to you for a long time even after the bruises had faded and the cuts healed.

When the two of you arrived back at the apartment, Bucky insisted once again that you take his bed. You tried to refuse, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. "You're the one with several injuries, (Y/N/N). I will happily take the couch."

You sighed. "Fine, but I'm only agreeing to this because you're so damn stubborn and I'm too tired to argue."

He grinned. "I'll take the win." He gestured for you to follow him to his bedroom. "You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in."

You blushed slightly and prayed that he didn't notice. The idea of wearing his clothes warmed your whole body. You watched him pull a t-shirt and sweatpants out of his drawer and set them on the bed. "These are definitely too big for you, but I hope they'll work for now. Steve and I will go to your place and pack up your stuff tomorrow."

"These will work," you said as you picked up the shirt. "Thank you." You stared at him in silence for a moment before he caught on.

"Shit, sorry! I'll leave so you can change. Just yell if you need anything."

When he walked out of the room, you couldn't help but chuckle. For such a smart man, he could be dense as hell. You started to try and take your shirt off, but you gasped as pain radiated down your arm. You tried lifting your arm again, but the pain only intensified. You sighed angrily, realizing you weren't getting the damn shirt off without help. The last thing you wanted to do was ask Bucky to take your shirt off, but you didn't have another option...unless you wanted to cut the damn thing off.

You poked your head out of his room and called his name softly. "Bucky?"

He appeared quickly from the kitchen. "What'cha need sweets?"

"I um...I can't get my shirt off," you mumbled uncomfortably.

His eyes widened and a slight blush colored his cheeks. "Oh, um. Do you want me to help?"

You nodded. "It hurts my arm too much, but I wanted to get a shower before I go to bed, so it has to come off."

Bucky looked nervous, but he agreed to help you. He followed you back into his room and you turned away from him in an attempt to have more privacy.

"Umm, doll?"

"Yeah?"

"You kinda have to face me...your arm is in the front."

You froze for a second before turning around. "Right..."

"Hey, I'll keep my eyes on your face, okay? I just need to get it over your arm first," he said in an attempt to put you at ease.

You nodded your head and lifted your left arm over your head for him.

"Okay, sweets. I'm gonna have to move the right arm. I'll go as slowly as I can, okay?"

"Just do it quickly so I can get it over with."

He sighed. "Alright, on three. One--" He quickly lifted your arm into the air as gently as he could while simultaneously pulling your shirt up and over your head and arms.

You gasped in pain, but Bucky was lowering your arm immediately after the pain registered in your brain. Your shirt was on the floor and you were standing before the guy you'd had a crush on since 6th grade in nothing but a bra and jeans. The embarrassment brought a dark blush to your face.

Bucky's eyes never left your face, although he really really wanted to look down. He cleared his throat lightly. "Need anything else, doll?"

You started to shake your head when an uncomfortable realization came over you. "I uh, I can't--I mean, I umm..."

He raised an eyebrow as he watched your face. "Yes?"

"My bra..." you whispered. "I can't unclasp it."

"Oh," he said, his cheeks darkening. "Umm...turn around." When you turned your back to him, he finally let his eyes slide down your body. His heart clenched at the sight of several bruises on your back that appeared to be in various stages of healing. With dexterous fingers, he quickly unclasped your bra and then turned away from you so you could have privacy. "You can turn around now. I'll be in the living room if you need anything, but before I go, I need to know something."

"Okay..." you said softly as you turned to face his back.

"How many times has he hit you?"

You realized you probably had old bruises on your back, along with a couple scars from various "fights" with John. You sighed softly. "Too many to count, Buck," you said honestly.

His back tensed and he let out a low sound that you could only equate to a growl. "Does Steve know?"

"No. I never told him. I never told anyone."

Bucky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Don't keep shit like that from me anymore, okay? Don't keep it from Steve either. We both care about you and there is no way in hell that either one of us would have allowed John to remain above ground if we'd known."

"I know," you whispered.

He could hear the tears in your voice and he desperately wanted to pull you into a tight hug, but he knew it would be awkward given your half-naked state. "I'm going to hug you when it's less awkward, but I just want you to know that I care about you, okay? A lot."

Your heart skipped a beat and you closed your eyes. "Thank you, Bucky."

He nodded. "Okay, I'm gonna leave the room now. Go get your shower and then I'll help you with whatever you need."

"Okay, thanks." He left the room and you slowly stripped off your remaining clothes before climbing into the shower. You stood under the spray, letting the hot water sooth your sore body. You would have happily stayed in the shower for hours, if the hot water hadn't turned to luke warm.

You sighed as you turned off the shower and slowly dried off as best as you could given your current state. Your arm was aching, but at least the pain meds had finally started to kick in. You went back into Bucky's bedroom and pulled his sweatpants on easily. When it came to putting on a shirt, however, your arm once again acted as a painful obstacle. You refused to ask him for even more help, so you pulled on the shirt as slowly as possible, biting your lip to keep from crying out in pain.

Once you were fully dressed, you stepped out into the living room in search of Bucky, and maybe something to eat. Bucky was sitting on the couch watching something on TV and he looked up when you walked in. His eyes widened slightly and his jaw went slack as he looked at you. He didn't say anything for a moment and you started to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Umm, you okay Buck?"

He realized he'd been staring and he shook his head and cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. Sorry, sweets. I was--umm...did you enjoy your shower?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I could've stayed in there for hours."

Bucky was still looking at you oddly and you weren't sure why. You were tired and achey, and you couldn't help but ask him what was up. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"There's just something about seeing you in my clothes..." he trailed off.

Your eyebrows raised and you stared at him in silence. You didn't know what to say to that or exactly how to interpret it.

Bucky clearly realized what he'd said a moment too late. His face blushed dark red and he looked away from you. "Sorry, I uh, I shouldn't have said anything."

You moved further into the room and sat down on the chair across from him. "You didn't really say anything, so it's okay."

Bucky looked at you in surprise. "Did you miss what I said?"

You chuckled lightly. "I think my ears are the one thing that still work perfectly." You paused. "Was there more to your statement than I thought?"

Bucky looked away from you again. "I don't know if we should be talking about this right now."

"You're the one that brought it up. I could use something to take my mind off of everything anyway."

Bucky sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Steve's been my best friend since we were little kids. I've known you basically my whole life. I always thought you were fun and sweet, but you were Steve's little sister, ya know?"

You nodded, not entirely sure where he was going with this. Or maybe you just didn't want to get your hopes up.

"But then we went to college and you graduated high school and things changed. I started looking at you differently. I wanted to say something to you when you graduated college...but then you started dating John and I just...I hated it. I hated him. And that was even before I knew what a jackass he was."

"You warned me, but I didn't want to listen," you said softly.

Bucky sighed. "I know, but it's a little more complicated than that, isn't it? Love is blind."

"Is it? Or was I just ignorant?"

"Maybe both, but you're still the smartest woman I know."

You chuckled. "I love the compliments, Buck, even if you're full of shit."

"There's that laugh again. My favorite sound in the world."

You inhaled sharply and he blushed. "Your favorite?"

Bucky nodded. "You're my favorite, so it's not too far of a stretch..."

You just looked at Bucky in silence, mentally begging him to continue.

"Look, I know this is terrible timing, but I can't sit here and pretend that I don't feel what I feel. I've adored you for years, (Y/N). You're my favorite person in the entire world, even over Steve. Seeing you in pain is the worst thing I've ever experienced. Just knowing that John did this to you...it makes me see red. You deserve the world, (Y/N/N)."

Tears had formed in your eyes while he spoke. "What are you saying, Bucky?"

He looked at you with warm eyes. "I think you know, doll."

"I need to hear you say it," you whispered.

Bucky took a deep breath. "I love you, (Y/N). I've loved you for years. I loved you before I even really knew what love was. Seeing you with anyone else broke my heart, but seeing you with John...I don't even have words, (Y/N)."

You stood up and walked over to him, kneeling on the ground in front of him. You took his hand in yours and squeezed it. "I wish you would have told me sooner."

"Would it have changed anything?" he whispered.

"It would have changed everything."

He looked at you in surprise, blue eyes filled with hope. "What...I mean, do you...?"

"I think you know," you said softly, echoing his earlier words.

"Please, doll." He sounded scared to have hope.

"I fell in love with you a long time ago, Buck. My feelings for you have never changed."

He touched your face as gently as possible. "I'm dying to kiss you, sweets, but I don't want to hurt you."

"Just be gentle," you whispered. "I don't want to wait for it to heal."

He leaned forward and placed his lips against yours with the gentlest affection you'd ever received. He held the kiss as long as he could without moving so he wouldn't hurt you. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. "I've wanted to do that for years, but I promise you I'll kiss you breathless once you heal...if you let me."

You nodded your head, "I would love that."

He smiled and kissed your forehead sweetly. "How about we get you in bed, huh? You need to get some rest."

You nodded and allowed him to help you up off the floor. He guided you to his room and helped you into the bed. He kissed your cheek, avoiding the cut that remained there.

"Goodnight, doll. If you need anything, I'll be on the couch."

He started to leave, but you grabbed his hand with your good arm. "Please stay," you whispered.

He looked conflicted. "Are you sure, doll? Last thing I wanna do is make you uncomfortable."

"I don't wanna be alone. Please, Buck."

He never could tell you no, so he crawled into the bed beside you and reached over you to turn off the light. You rolled over so your back was to him and he laid still beside you, afraid to touch you, despite your earlier conversation.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah, sweets?"

"You can touch me."

He laughed lightly and rolled over so his front was against your back. He slowly wrapped his metal arm around your waist. "Am I hurting you?"

You shook your head and settled back against him, ensuring his body was flush against yours. He kissed your shoulder and whispered, "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For saving me from myself."

He kissed your shoulder again. "Always, (Y/N/N). Always."

#brother's best friend!bucky barnes #bbf!bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bbf!bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfic

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