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thevillainswhore · 3 months

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New Tricks: Celestial Heavens

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 9.4k

Summary: Life couldn’t seem any better — your life long crush, and the football star of your fantasies is now your boyfriend, and your relationship is running smoothly. It’s a dream come true. But when Bucky admits he’s ready to take things to the next level, you’re anxious to make sure losing his virginity is an experience he won’t forget — for all the right reasons.

Which means, a first date is in order.

A night beneath the stars brings the two of you closer together, where emotions run high and confessions sit on the tips of tongues.

Warnings: College AU, Smut, kissing, grinding, dirty talk, praise, reassurance, fluff, fluff and more fluff, pet names, swearing, teasing, first dates, Bucky is a smooth little shit, cute astronomy puns.

Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day my loves 🥰 here is the highly requested part two for New Tricks 🥹 the support I have received for part one has been so overwhelming and I want to thank all of you who expressed your love 😭

Beta and divider graphic credits go to @rookthorne - I can’t thank you enough for spending hours of your time helping me bring this AU to life, you’re incredible — this one is for you ❤️

I hope this follow on lives up to your expectations and does our favourite college babies justice. Once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Happy reading my lovelies 💜

New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾

New Tricks Playlist 🎵

‼️ Small disclaimer ‼️- while I have done some research, I in no way consider myself to be an astronomy expert. If any of the facts or information I have included are wrong, I apologise profusely.

Standing outside of your brother’s apartment, you hum a tune to yourself while waiting for the door to open.

The impulse to knock again after only a moment of waiting is overwhelming and your impatience begins to wane. You grip the canvas strap of your tote bag which is full to the brim with notepads and books, when the door suddenly swings open to admit you.

“Hey–! Oh, it’s you.” Disappointment sours your tone upon seeing Steve in the doorway. You push past his broad frame and enter his apartment to look for the true reason you are there, paying no mind to the scoff that falls from his lips.

“Yes, hello sis. So good to see you, too!” Steve stays by the door, unmoving and starts conversing with himself. “How am I? I’m great, thanks for asking—how about you? Come on in, we’ll have a drink.”

You shake your head, huffing a laugh while you scold him playfully, “Oh hush, Stevie, don’t be so butthurt.” From down the hallway, you see a light casting shadows along the floor — the source coming from a slither of an open door. A flicker of red hair disappears around the door frame. “Huh,” you muse, a smirk dancing on your lips. “You should know by now I’m not here for you. Where is he?”

Steve sighs. “He’s–”

“Buttercup!” Bucky’s shout from his bedroom interrupts Steve, and it snaps your focus towards the direction of his voice. “Baby!”

The heavy thud of his rapid footsteps echoes down the hallway towards the living room, where you currently stand waiting for him, and you can’t help but giggle with amusement at his excitement.

He appears in a blur, skidding into the room with grace akin to a drunken swan — a pink blush dusts over his cheekbones and the boyish charm of his eager smile makes your stomach flutter. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, and he covertly attempts to catch his breath from the sudden burst of excitement.

“–There,” Steve finishes, lamely.

The bright, pretty smile on Bucky’s lips and how his eyes grow wide when he sees you makes you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. “Hi, Buttercup,” he breathes, and the pure innocence of his greeting melts your heart.

You can’t help but copy his smile as you make your way towards him, where he positively vibrates in place. “Hi to you too, handsome.” The cotton of his shirt is soft under your palms, and you meet his lips with a small kiss. The brush of his plush lips against yours makes you sigh against his mouth, and his hands sneak around your waist to grip your hips, keeping you in place against his chest.

He wasn’t going to let you sneak away with just the one kiss — he never does.

A more insistent press from his lips makes you part your own, and he runs his tongue over your bottom lip.

“Guys,” Steve whines, “Get a fucking room — I don’t want to see that shit!”

The effort to pull away from Bucky’s lips is beyond tolerable, but you refuse to turn and look at Steve as you say, “Sorry, bro,” with little to no remorse for his fragile disposition as the older brother. Bucky does not tear his focus from you, rather, his lips quirk in a playful smirk at your snark.

Unbeknownst to you and behind your back, your brother’s mouth upturns in a smile; the two most important people in his life finally together and so sickeningly in love.

As of a few weeks ago, Bucky and you started officially dating after a shy, whispered question during the late Sunday morning of your first weekend together.

Bucky’s small, timid question of what the two of you were once he dragged you back to bed — after the clean-up from a spilled gift basket in his haste — set the butterflies in your stomach aflame.

Of course, there was no other answer but to rid the doubt in his mind and reassure him.

From then on, the two of you lived in your own bubble of bliss. You, over the moon to finally be with your long-time crush; Bucky, unbelieving of the reality that he has and is deserving of the girl of his dreams, who loves and nurtures all aspects of him.

The only way to describe you both during this honeymoon phase is inseparable — spending every single spare moment through college life with one another.

But no matter how badly you wanted to be with him, and spend more time staring at his handsome features, your art finals were also crucial business — as was keeping Bucky’s GPA intact. The scholarship he revered depended on it.

Steve’s voice brings you from the torrent of memories and back to the present where Bucky held you fast against his chest still. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

You reach around Bucky’s neck and twirl your fingers through his hair before whispering loud enough for only him to hear, “Ready to go, Puppy?”

The red flush of his cheeks and the part of his lips has you trying to hide the satisfied smirk that threatens to pull at the corner of your mouth — his new nickname borne from a quick-witted quip you thought nothing of, truly is one of your greatest accomplishments to date.

You remember it perfectly.

Bucky leaned against the headboard, his lips in a full pout, and arms crossed tightly across his chest. The bare expanse of skin was shadowed by the low light of your bedside lamp. “No,” he grumbled, furrowing his brows with his sudden, foul mood.

“Bucky— come on, we have to eat something,” you reiterated for the umpteenth time.

“No.” The dramatics of his brooding had you struggling to rein your laughter in.

“We’ve been cuddling for three hours,” you insisted, deciding to reason with the stubborn idiot. “I literally heard your stomach rumble an hour ago. You need food.”

Bucky sulked. “No. Only need you.”

“Oh my god,” you giggled, “you look like a kicked puppy, Bucky.”

There was a deep, impatient huff, and then he stared at you, an expression of longing covering his features. It only exaggerated his puppy eyes.

A bright idea came to you then, the comparison may just be what you needed to make the boy move… “Here, boy,” you called, patting your thigh with one hand and snapping your fingers with the other. “Come on, who’s a good boy? Huh? You want a treat, baby? Do you wanna be a good pup for me?”

Bucky’s reaction was more than you could have ever hoped for — his entire body became deathly still for a moment, then his arms slackened to fall onto the bed and a deep flush of blotchy red trailed up from his chest and up to his neck.

You would have been worried about overstepping if you hadn’t spotted the dazed, glassy look in his eyes, darkening the cerulean to an Aegean blue.

Bucky liked it.

The praise, humiliation, spliced with a pinch of demand — the entirely accidental recipe for how to break him.

Ever since then, Bucky’s new nickname causes the most visceral reaction he so desperately tries to hide, with very little success. The quiet hitch of his breath has you trying to keep your composure, and if only to tease him a little more, you wink at him.

In the present, he chokes on a sharp intake of breath and coughs.

There’s a quiet, short bout of laughter behind you from Steve, but you focus on Bucky while he catches his breath, still beet red. “You ready to go, Buck?” you repeat, squeezing the back of his neck.

The rapid semblance of composure did nothing to hide the effect your words have. He blows out a breath, and stutters a determinedly stoic, “Y–yeah— almost, just gotta— um— run and g–get my jacket.”

You hum and bump your nose against his before stepping back to let him breathe, “Okay, Buck. I’ll be waiting by the door.”

Bucky wastes no time in spinning around before taking off like a shot down the hallway towards his bedroom. As he disappears, you chuckle to yourself and wonder how embarrassed he will be when he realises that he is already wearing a hoodie.

“You’re wicked.” Steve stands with his arms crossed and a raised eyebrow. But by the small smirk upturning his lips, you know he’s just as entertained with Bucky’s fumbling than you are. “He’s so whipped.”

Before you have a chance to retort, a honeyed, feminine voice calls from your brother’s room. “Steve, stop hounding your sister and leave her be! You promised me a foot rub.”

“Oh?” It's your turn to cock your eyebrow, and you watch, all too righteously, while his cheeks turn bright red. “Remind me who’s the whipped one again, hm?”

Steve flounders in place, his mouth opening and closing while he searches for the words to no doubt put you back in your place, but another voice beats him to it by calling out to you from the hallway. “Flower, you have no idea! Last week I got him to–”

“Okay! That’s enough of that,” Steve interrupts, quick to shut down the reveal before it knew the light of day. He stalks down the hallway towards his bedroom, and as he goes, he yells over his shoulder at you, “Enjoy your time with Buck, sis, please don’t break him, we’ve got training tomorrow. Love ya — see you next week!”

The door slams shut just as Bucky appears around the corner, clad in both a hoodie and a jacket, and his eyes dart everywhere around the room but at you. The realisation must have hit him, and he was far too stubborn to come back empty handed.

Decidedly, you don’t question him on it. Instead, you hold your hand out to him and say, “Come on, handsome, we’ve got some studying to do.”

And just like that, Bucky’s face lights up and he bounces towards you to interlace his fingers with yours. He follows you with ease while you lead him out his apartment to the elevator, the doors opening for you instantly for the both of you to step in.

The floor numbers descend on the screen, and a companionable, comfortable silence floats in the air. Until you turn to the side when you feel the stare of your boyfriend.

Bucky’s blue eyes shine brightly while he looks you up and down, taking you in once more, and your heart flutters against your chest with the soft smile pulling at his lips. “You look beautiful today,” he whispers, a line of worship that makes your stomach flip. While holding your gaze, he lifts your hand up to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of it.

If the heart eyes from the cartoons were real, then your boyfriend takes the gold.

You barely fight the urge to squeal out loud with the show of heartfelt adoration. “Thank you, baby.”

The elevator doors open with a swoosh as you reach the ground floor. Squeezing his hand gently, you begin to lead him out the lift and towards the exit. “Let’s get going — we gotta make sure you ace this test.”

In the beginning, it took a while to process that you were Bucky’s girlfriend — an ease unlike any other helped you both fit together so seamlessly, as though you had been dating for far longer.

That same ease also makes itself known in your shared sexual compatibility.

Ever since that fateful movie night back in Steve and Bucky’s apartment, the two of you went no further than making out at every opportunity that presents itself (or that you make) and grinding against each other until you both came — though it didn’t stop you both from doing it a lot.

Sex for the first time is a big deal. Bucky’s admission of still being a virgin, and his comfort being your priority, you take every old and new venture into pleasure at his pace. But your hesitance is met with an unprecedented hunger that leaves you breathless with need, every single time.

Bucky’s eagerness to feel you against him, the heat of your bodies intermingling as best they can between the layers of clothing always made him feral with want, and each time he ventures closer, further than he did before in his exploration of your body, it grows with such passion it scorches your skin.

You were going to wait on his signal no matter how long it took. But a few signs were telling you, however, that Bucky wants it.

Recently, your boyfriend has been a little more desperate, more so than usual.

His whines and whimpers turn from breathy and high, to deep, animalistic sounds that send shivers up your spine. Bucky was already putty in the palm of your hands at the best of times, and to witness him let go of his inhibitions was addicting — you wanted more of him, and you have the inclination that he longs for the same.

And although the both of you swore to one another that you would head to the campus library to focus on your studies, somewhere along the way, your feet took you straight back to your dorm room and into your bedroom.

Your giggles and sighs echo off the walls, along with the rustling sound of your bed covers. “That tickles!”

Bucky, the clever, sly boy he is, figured out far too quickly where the sensitive spots on your neck are. “‘M sorry, baby,” he whispers against your neck, his breath hot and fanning over the delicate skin. His sweet, tender kisses start to turn heated — more passionate and intense as his hands begin to wander over your body.

“Fuck,” Bucky breathes against the curve of your jaw. “You smell so good, Buttercup — could jus’ eat you up.”

You softly moan in reply. The sudden hunger in his tone makes a shiver run down your spine and settle heavily between your thighs.

“C’mere,” he growls, and he rolls his body over yours, forcing you to lay flat against the mattress. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist as he trails sloppy kisses from the curve of your mouth and down the slope of your neck. “Atta girl, good girl.”

The feel of his lips against your skin makes your eyes flutter closed, and it’s entirely impossible to withhold your upper body rising with the arch of your back, pushing your covered breast up against his chest.

You can’t help but think of how confident Bucky has grown in such little time — his boldness only adding fuel to the fire.

Bucky firmly grips your waist in his hands with a thready moan, and he slowly, torturously inches them up towards the bottom of your tits. You feel the brush from the tips of his thumbs through the fabric of your bra and shirt, the pressure of them indescribable.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” He squeezes his eyes shut as he tests a roll of his hips into you. The high moan that tumbles from your lips jolts him, and he thrusts forward with a small, disjointed groan — the heavenly pleasure of grinding his cock against your clothed cunt almost too much for him to bear. “Feel so good, Bee — holy fuck.”

You grin up at him, squeezing your knees against his hips. Another thing Bucky grew confident in: being vocal in the bedroom. His litany of curses and range of vocabulary comes to life if he loses himself enough; bold in his actions, he takes charge more and it leaves you a wreck every single damn time.

“Gotta keep going, baby,” he pants into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, “don’t make me stop, please don’t make me stop.” The desperation in his voice is as addicting as the pleasure he so freely gives, and you moan loudly to the ceiling. His pure, feral need to take what he wants only sends you closer to the edge. “Fuck–”

Your whines and pleas for more mix with his deep grunts on every grind into you. “Bucky, don't you dare stop,” you gasp, grabbing at his shoulders and wrinkling his shirt in your grip. “Oh my god, please don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop,” he promises as he pants against your neck. “Not gonna stop till you fuckin’ cum for me, Buttercup.”

You grab onto the back of his thighs, forcing him to rock against you faster. Harder.

Bucky’s whimpers only serve to drive you crazier and with wild abandon, you buck your hips to meet his thrusts. “So close, baby. Almost there— oh, fuck,” you cry.

Bucky bites the skin of your neck, causing you to gasp loudly and moan.

“Fuck, doll,” he groans, and he swallows your whines with frenzied need, his tongue laving over yours. The harsh pants for air when he pulls back to speak send you into a whimpering mess. “Drivin’ me crazy, Bee. Need you so bad, you got no idea—”

“Keep going, please, keep going!”

“—Gotta have you,” he grunts. “Need these fuckin’ clothes off — wanna see your perfect body.”

It’s hopeless to keep your moans at bay. His ferocity has you on the edge and your thighs shake as you balance on the precipice. “Gonna— gonna cum.” You tangle your fingers into his damp hair and pull. “Bucky, baby—”

“I know, pretty girl,” Bucky coos. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry—”

“Please, please, please!” you frantically beg. The knot in your stomach is wound tight; the fast rhythm of Bucky’s thrusts pushing it to the point of shattering.

With a slight shift in angle of Bucky’s hips, the tip of his cock rubs against your swollen clit through your leggings, and you scream from the sheer ecstasy that flows through your veins with your climax. “Cumming! I’m cumming— oh my god, I’m cumming!”

Bucky’s hips falter, and he chokes out a raspy moan, “Fuck!”

The shattering of built-up tension rushes over the two of you; harsh moans fall from Bucky’s parted lips while he rides out his high, his hips continuing to grind against you.

It all falls on deaf ears while fire still runs through your veins.

“Holy shit,” Bucky whispers, finally slowing down his breathing and stopping the faltering, aborted thrusts of his hips. The growing wet patch that stains the crotch of his sweatpants no longer makes his cheeks flush with shame.

Quiet whimpers and gasps for breath leave you unable to speak, to utter just how wrecked you feel beneath him.

“Holy fuck,” Bucky repeats, and he gently rests his lower half against yours while carefully keeping his upper body propped up on his elbows. “That was–” Hot breaths fan over your lips as he rests his forehead against yours. “So fuckin’ good.”

You laugh breathily and squeeze his shoulders, the press of your fingertips meeting hard, strong muscle.

It’s a peaceful moment; a serene bliss you only find in the comfort of Bucky’s arms. It feels right to be cocooned in his warmth — your boyfriend always making you feel safe.

“You’re so beautiful,” Bucky says softly, placing a quick kiss to your nose, then a lingering, passionate one on your lips. “I can’t– fuck, can’t believe you’re mine.”

You smile brightly up at him, lost for words, and with a tired huff, he rolls off of your body to lay beside you. Your chests rise and fall in a soothing sense of synchronisation.

The slow drain of adrenaline from your body erupts in a sudden fit of giggles.

Bucky blinks, then smiles hesitantly, a confused quirk of his lips. “What’s so funny, Buttercup?”

“I just–” You bite your lip in an attempt to stop your laughter so you’re able to respond to him. “Sorry– it’s just a little crazy to me how you’re not as shy as you used to be.” A teasing smirk pulls at your lips. “You’ve gone a little rogue, Pup.”

Heat creeps up Bucky’s neck and covers his cheeks with an adorable red flush. Even if your man has gained a lot of confidence, he will never be able to rid the bashful puppy inside of him.

“I should be worried,” you tease. “You’re giving me a run for my money.”

“Right, that’s it.” Bucky suddenly shoots up and climbs over you, pinning you in place with his hips and thighs. One of his hands snakes up your arm, then the other, and you shiver with the ghost of sensation, only, he smirks. “I’ve got you now.”

Your wrists are suddenly together, unable to move from the top of the bed and in the grip of his hand. “Hey–!”

There’s a wicked, playful glint in his darkening eyes as he looks down at you. “You’ll learn, Bee, that I’m not a man to be teased.” The hand he has free begins to flit over your ticklish spots.

“Bucky,” You warn as you nervously chuckle, trying to edge away from his touch. “Don’t you even think about it.”

That doesn’t deter him though. He runs the tips of his fingers, a feather light touch, underneath your tank top. “Oh, no– no, no,” he tuts. “I have the upper hand now, baby.”

“No!” you loudly squeal, trying to kick your feet to dislodge the weight of Bucky’s athletic build over your lower half, but it’s of no use.

You burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter — tears start streaming down your cheeks while your boyfriend watches in cruel amusement above you. “Where did all that fighting talk from earlier go, huh, Buttercup? Where did it go?”

“Okay, okay! I– I lose, you w–win!”

With a satisfied sigh, Bucky yields and lets go of your wrists to bring one hand down to your waist, closely following with the other as he starts to gently stroke the exposed skin of your middle.

“You’re too easy, baby,” he chuckles, fondness bursting over his features.

“Yeah, well,” you sigh in defeat. “You played dirty. Best believe I’ll get you back, big guy.”

A comfortable silence stretches between you both while you breathe heavily and close your eyes against the exhaustion overtaking your limbs. The rush of endorphins and all manner of happiness still flowing through your veins.

Until, “Did I go too far?” Bucky asks suddenly, his voice timid, small.

The tone of his question indicates a sense of duality — he’s not just asking only about the tickle fight.

You open your eyes to the view of his long hair hiding the two of you from the world; your room obscured by the curtain of it. The bright, shining blue of his irises steals your breath with the depth of emotion swimming in them — keeping you firmly within the bubble the two of you created in your passion.

“Oh, Bucky,” you whisper soothingly, bringing your hand up to cup his cheek — the soft strands of his hair against your fingertips sends an unprompted shiver down your spine. You move your hand from his cheek so your index finger could press against his nose, then up to smooth over the furrow between his brows. “Not at all, handsome.” An effortless smile pulls at your lips, one that he hesitantly returns. “It was perfect, I promise.”

Though he doesn’t seem to settle. Something is on his mind, that was obvious — his tells are easy to decipher from the time you spent studying his expressions. When he is unsure, hesitant, the tip of his tongue runs over his bottom lip; when anxious, his shoulders hunch inwards in an attempt to make himself smaller.

Bucky swallows thickly.

You frown. “Are you okay, Puppy?”

The soft lilt of your voice soothes his worries, and he takes a deep breath before responding with a wavering, “I think I’m ready.”

The implication of such a comment makes your eyes widen slightly — while the possibilities are endless for what he could possibly be referring to, you’re almost certain you understand exactly what he means.

As though he suddenly realises how it could be interpreted, he barely whispers, “I w–wanna have— have sex.” There’s a slight tremble in his voice despite his courage to confess.

You blink once, twice, hesitating only for a second before opening your mouth to reply, to question him, but Bucky rushes to add, “With you.”

It’s your turn to swallow — despite the harsh dryness coating your throat. In the past, you had partners, summer flings. Few stayed, and even fewer were worth the trials and effort of a proper relationship. And through those couplings, sex became something that didn’t faze you.

With Bucky it feels different.

The connection is far more meaningful to you than any casual hookup from a club, and to know he is in a space where he is comfortable enough to place such vulnerability in the palms of your hands… It is not lost on you, the importance of his choice.

You look deep into his eyes while you seek his full consent — if only just to quell the doubt that swells within yourself. “You’re sure about this?”

“One hundred percent,” Bucky confidently assures. “I want all of you, Buttercup. And I wanna give you all of me.”

Fuck, you curse to yourself. You didn’t deserve him.

You nod, then say, “Alright, baby.” Bucky grins at you, and this time you rush to add, “Let me do this properly though, okay? I want to take you out; treat you like you deserve.”

A sudden sheepishness clouds his expression, and his eyes dart downwards to your lips while he licks his own. “Mhm,” he mumbles quietly, “Y–You can do that if— if you like.”

You take both of his cheeks in your hands, and you tilt his head up to place a soft, loving kiss to his swollen lips. When he makes direct eye contact with you, you whisper against his mouth, “You deserve the world, Pup — nothing less. So yes, I would love to.”

The night of the long anticipated date night arrived faster than you realise — after classes, study sessions, and accompanying Nat to the boy’s football training to cheer them on, time flew by in a blur.

As much as Bucky begged you for a scrap of a hint or clue for what you planned, you kept it under tight wraps; a lock and key that will not budge for even the sweetest of pleas.

It hasn’t been an easy task to stay strong against his wide, puppy eyes — on more than one occasion, you almost let slip. But with severe determination, you successfully keep it a secret.

And by god are you proud of yourself for such an achievement.

You know for sure that Bucky is going to enjoy himself tonight — every last stop pulled, and with the help from your brother for the venue, you feel confident in the plan.

That is, until you smooth over the invisible wrinkles of your dress for the umpteenth time while you make your way down the hallway towards their apartment, your stomach roiling with anxiety of the unknown. Will Bucky truly like it? What if he hates it–?

A hand with perfectly manicured, blood red nails grabs yours, and pulls your fidgeting fingers away from the seam of stitching to the pockets of your dress. “Babe, please stop panicking.” Natasha’s soothing tone brings you back down to earth. “You look incredible — Bucky isn’t going to know what hit him.”

After hearing of your plans from your brother, she was quick to offer her help with your makeup and hair, which you graciously and gratefully took her up on. You were desperate for some feminine support, and Nat came in the form of an angel sent from the heavens.

The way she worked her magic left you unable to believe it was you staring back at yourself in the mirror; hair flawlessly styled and makeup ethereal. A shaky sigh escapes you. “You really think so?”

All in all, as you walk down the hallway to the door that hides your date from view, arm in arm with your guardian angel, there is not one reason for why you are so anxious — though the pressure you place on yourself to make sure this date is perfect is among one of the chief suspects.

You meant, wholeheartedly, what you told Bucky before — he deserves the world, and you crave to hand it to him. “I mean–”

“Listen to me,” Nat says fiercely as she steps in front of you, blocking your path to the door of the apartment and stopping you in your tracks. Her hands grip your arms, tethering you to reality. “I know for a fact that boy is going to positively die when he sees you.”

The tension releases from your body with her comforting words, but Nat still goes above and beyond to bring you out of your spiral. “Hell, if I wasn’t already with your brother, I'd have snatched you up myself.”

You can’t help the small smile that quirks your lips for her instilled confidence, and she winks.

You’re grateful that Steve has found someone so genuine who you easily get along with. Natasha is a beautiful woman both inside and out, faultlessly honest and loyal — traits that are hard to find in a person, yet here she is, extending her help with little thought or expectation of it being returned.

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying to convey how much you appreciate her. “Y–You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Maybe not.” Her hair bounces as she shrugs. “But us girls gotta stick together — especially now that we’ve got two helmet heads stuck to our back.”

“Come on.” Her arm hooks around yours, and she pulls you along. “Let’s go get your boy.”

Before you can blink, you are standing outside your brother’s apartment, and with a deep breath and moral support of the redhead on your arm, you bring your closed fist up to the wood. “Here we go.” Three, firm knocks ring through the silence, and you step back to wait.

The anticipation doesn't last very long at all before the door swings inwards with a flourish.

Steve stands in the entryway, his back turned towards you while he shouts into his apartment. “Hurry your ass up, Buck–!” You lightly switch your weight between your feet, waiting for him to turn around. “They’re at the door!”

There’s a clattering bang and more curses from inside the apartment, when Steve finally turns around to greet you. “There’s my favourite girls—” He freezes in place, mouth slack from shock, and his eyes trail up and down your body. “Flower,” he gasps in awe. “Oh sis, you look so beautiful.”

The sincerity in his words immediately brings tears to your eyes, and Nat hisses at her boyfriend, “Hey, don’t ruin her makeup!”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says slowly, still taking you in. “I just– you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you.”

Nat hums happily while her hand rubs your shoulder. “Isn’t she? I said Bucky’s going to die when he sees her.”

“Guys,” You whine, the hot flush of embarrassment leaves you feeling utterly flustered.

Steve ignores you though, readily agreeing with his girlfriend as he opens the door wider to let you both enter. “She’s right, Flower. It suits you perfectly.”

A surge of giddiness hits you — after a time of intense deliberation of your wardrobe, you chose one of your favourite sundresses to wear for the special night, a spaghetti strap in a soft, cornflower blue. A small surprise and homage to someone special. “Thanks Stevie, I really appreciate–”

“Okay, okay, wait–” Bucky rounds the corner from the hallway as he enters the living room, interrupting you. “What about this one?”

The cufflinks on his navy blue button-up steal his whole attention, while his long, chocolate hair conceals you from his view. He struggles fastening the cuffs with the subtle shake of his fingers, and you can almost hear his inner frustration when he huffs an annoyed breath, blowing strands of hair from his face. “Dammit, I swear–”

You stand there with thin lips to contain your laughter while waiting for him to look up.

“Steve?” Bucky asks frustratedly after he doesn’t receive an immediate response. “Do you think Buttercup will like this outfit or not–” His head tilts upwards, hair falling either side of his handsome face that is painted with exasperation at being ignored, and his words falter.

Blue eyes widen in surprise to find you standing there next to his best friend.

“Oh– fuck,” Bucky gasps, and his jaw slackens with the gravity of your presence; truly awe stricken by the sight of your opulent outfit and appearance. His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps uselessly around his inability to speak.

The click of your shoes against the floorboards doesn’t snap him out of his daze let alone register in his mind, so deep in his fixation of you.

You take the chance to admire his appearance.

The navy, button-up shirt clings to his broad shoulders, accentuating the definition of the muscles all the way down to his forearms, and with each movement, the material tightens sinfully. The top few buttons of his shirt are left undone — a choice you’re most thankful for because of the tease of his bare chest. Black slacks fit snug to his hips and grip his thick thighs.

On any normal day, when Bucky wasn’t out in the field in his football gear, he normally stuck to his casual clothing of an old t-shirt and sweatpants — comfort over presentability, not that you ever complain about the sight of him in sweats. But this is the first time you’ve ever seen him remotely dressed up.

You walk towards him and grab his hands with yours, stopping his absentminded fidgeting — gravity keeping him routed in place.

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous, Bucky,” you say, gazing into his eyes while you wonder how lucky you are to hold his attention in a room of his favourite people. “If that answers your question.”

“My god, Bee,” he whispers, finally able to give a voice to the flock of thoughts circling his mind. “You look stunning, baby — ethereal.” He laughs, a little deliriously. “You’re kinda killing me here.” His large hands encircle yours, bringing them up to hold against his chest.

There’s so much emotion in his eyes as they dart over your figure like there’s not enough time in the world for him to take you in.

“Give us a spin!” Nat calls into the charged air while she clings onto Steve’s arm, who watches on teary eyed.

Bucky takes one of your hands and lifts it into the air, encouraging you to twirl. The skirt of your dress fans out around your thighs, and you can’t help but grin wide as your boyfriend whistles low. “You're a goddamn dream, Buttercup.”

He guides you back into his hold, before gently gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger to bump his nose against yours. “And all mine.”

The way Bucky’s stare burrows deep into your soul and makes a home where he rightfully belongs — it takes everything you have to not blurt out the three words residing on the tip of your tongue, but something has you biting your lip against the impulse.

Instead of declaring aloud what your mind and heart feel, you settle with another truth, “And you, Bucky Barnes, are a sight for sore eyes.”

A dusting of pink spreads high over his cheeks, and you take pride in being able to fluster him so easily — your adorable Pup would never lose his bashfulness.

“What did I tell you, honey?” Natasha bumps her hips against Steve’s as she snickers into her hand. “He’s practically drooling over her.”

You join in with their laughter while Bucky pulls you close and buries himself into your neck, even more flustered from the insistent teasing, and he grumbles low into your ear, “Great, now there’s two of them.”

Leaning back to better look at his flushed face, you assure him, “I think you’re adorable, baby.”

His eyes twinkle with a spark only you could ever bring out of him. “I’m excited for the night, Bee,” Bucky declares, honest and sweet.

“Me too, handsome,” you readily agree while you step back, the small hops of uncontainable excitement making Steve and Nat chuckle. “Are we all set to leave?”

“Oh!” Nat cries, “Before you forget—” She slips out of Steve’s hold and rushes into the kitchen, coming back a second later with a wicker basket full of food, the very same that she insisted on when she first found out about your date. With a wink, she hands it to you. “You can’t leave without this.”

“You’re an angel,” you praise, walking towards her and holding your arms wide for a hug. She readily accepts it and kisses you on the cheek. “Thank you so much for this.”

Just as you step back from her embrace to grab her offering, Bucky swoops in and grabs the basket before you can even touch the wicker handle. “Hey! Excuse me, Barnes,” you scold, frowning at him. “I am more than capable of carrying that.”

“I know,” Bucky teases while he walks backwards towards the apartment door, a devilish grin on his lips. “But I don’t care for a picnic basket gettin’ in the way and ruinin’ the view of my girl in a pretty dress.”

Your jaw drops from his suave words, and you stand there, flustered as you watch his retreating form. Without looking, he opens the door with his free hand and bids farewell to his best friend with a nod, then he smiles at Nat.

Bucky then looks to you. The flick of his hair as he nods towards the hallway pulls you from the reverie. “Come on, beautiful. The night is young; the possibilities endless.”

Where the hell has he gotten his silver tongue from? your mind questions.

“He’s gotten too smooth for his own good,” Steve comments as though he read your mind, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You don’t say,” you reply easily. To get to the door, you walk past your brother, and he slips a folded piece of paper into your hand while Bucky is walking into the hallway, his back turned. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Steve grins. “Have fun, Flower — you deserve this.” Naturally, it wouldn’t be a traditional sibling farewell without a departing shout of, “And make sure you wear protection, shithead!”

The Brooklyn streets are aglow from the overhead lights while the moon creeps up the horizon, watching over you and Bucky holding hands. He blindly follows you towards your best kept secret.

“Let me get this straight.” Bucky swings your arm with his gently. “You’re telling me I can’t have any clues about where you’re taking me?”

“Nope,” you respond, staying strong to your oath of silence. “We’re a couple of blocks away, you dummy. You’re going to find out in five minutes — be patient, I know it’s hard.”

“C’mon, Bee,” Bucky begs. “You don’t wanna put a poor man out of his misery?” He lightly tugs on your intertwined hands to spin you into his chest.

“Hey–” You look up at him to find his eyes hooded with barely restrained lust.

“I almost died already after seeing you in that dress for the first time, and now you’re torturing me, I have to watch you walk in front of me in the damned thing.”

Oh, you laugh to yourself. He’s really turning the charm up.

“Puppy,” you whisper breathily, intentionally running a hand down his chest. The action and your touch makes Bucky shudder. “Believe me when I say I could make you do a lot worse.”

A deep flush of red paints his cheeks and spreads blotchily down his neck, and his breath hitches when you cup his jaw in your palm. “Be good for me, and be patient,” you warn, the fan of your breath over his lips only worsening his flustered state. “I promise the wait will be worth it.”

“Y–Yeah, okay–” He clears his throat and sets you back onto your feet, though he does not release your hand.

A flash of mischief darkens his eyes when you pull him onwards, and you look over your shoulder at him when he says, “Yes ma’am.”

That is something you could get used to hearing. “Atta boy.”

The rest of the walk is quiet but calm — a mutual contentment stretching between the two of you where words aren’t needed.

You know that around the next street corner lay your surprise, and Bucky still has no idea what is in store — the piece of paper that Steve gave you begins to burn a hole in your dress pocket.

The exclamation of surprise that falls from Bucky’s lips when he lays eyes on the museum makes all the effort worth it, though it grows to a state of clear confusion from the furrowing of his brows. “Wait, it’s late — isn’t it closed?”

“Come on,” you say in reply, and instead of going to the main entrance, you lead Bucky towards an alleyway where Steve told you the back entrance for staff is situated.

The crinkle of paper is louder than the cheering crowd at a football game, and you grip the invaluable information as you near the locked door. Steve’s offering rings in your mind: It will get you into the main foyer, from there, you’re gonna need to get sneaky.

Bucky’s hand squeezes yours in an attempt to get your attention. “Bee?”

You’re too homed in on the memory of Steve talking to you about your plan — one of their teammates works within the museum, and he was able to pull a few strings and call in a couple of favours for the gold mine in your hand.

You determinedly walk towards the keypad built into the wall next to the door and unfold the note. In the process, you let Bucky’s hand go — you instantly feel the loss of connection.

“Um— Buttercup,” he chuckles nervously, glancing over his shoulders to spot any onlookers. “I think this is classified as illegal trespassing right now.”

“I mean,” you say, then you stick your tongue between your teeth as you work the six-digit code from the piece of paper to the keypad. The low tone press of each digit covers up the shuffle of feet behind you. “Bucky, it’s okay — it’s safe.”

“But–” He hesitates when the mechanism clicks to signify it's open.

You look at him and suddenly grasp the idea that he is anxious — his football scholarship and prospective future could be ripped away from him within the hour should the two of you get caught by the authorities.

“Hey, hey, we’re good — no one’s gonna catch us, I swear,” you assure. Though he still looks on edge. You don’t want Bucky to feel apprehensive for the sake of his headspace or the rest of the evening, and your only option is to offer him your most sincere form of faith. You hold out your hand, palm up. “We’re gonna be okay. Trust me?”

There’s a small, nervous twitch of a smile on his lips, and then, finally, his tense shoulders and posture relax as he steps forward and sets his hand into yours with an ease that shocks you, only strengthening the solid connection you have.

“Come on.” Bucky follows behind you, a slight laugh on his breath as you all but run into the museum.

Different eras of evolution pass by in a flash; hundreds of exhibits dedicated to all corners of the world go ignored in lieu of taking Bucky to one place that, normally, was not an easy area to walk through and explore, given how popular the exhibit is.

By the time you reach the doors hidden behind a set of double, velvet curtains, you’re out of breath. “O—kay,” you pant, hands on your hips as you slightly bend forward. “We’re — we’re here.”

Your boyfriend, the teasing bastard he is, chuckles while he extends a hand to your shoulder, “Are you okay?”

The bastard hasn’t even broken a sweat.

“Fine — I’m fine,” you gasp, and you gesture at the curtains. “Come on, I can’t hold it in any longer–” The heels of your shoes click over the floor, and you push aside the curtains to reveal the door — only then do you turn around and smile at Bucky. “Here we go.”

The doors fly open with a flourish and reveal a domed planetarium with the signage above a giant moon: A Journey Through The Stars.

It is a coveted event within the science community, and only after you hear of it through whispers in the halls of your dorms and classes did you realise it was perfect.

Darkness cloaks and envelopes the two of you as you step inside — Bucky moving slowly in his daze of amazement. On strings and platforms above and lining the dome ceiling are twinkling lights and stars, the only source of lumination to show the wonderment in his cerulean blues.

You watch from a distance with bated breath while Bucky stares to the ceiling, mouth agape, taking in the moving three-dimensional hologram above him and everything it has to offer.

The galaxy, with its swirls of pinks, purples, and blues among millions of stars, are brought to life before his very eyes. Planets thousands of times bigger than the two of you cross and circle one another above your heads, closer than either of you could have ever thought possible, and yet, still only just out of reach — the concept achieves the impossible.

In the end, you realise as you stare at Bucky, your heart swelling with the love that courses through you, that you have gone beyond the very goal you were desperate to attain; to give Bucky Barnes the world.

He spins on the spot, eyes bright with a childlike awe you have only ever seen on the mornings you've woken up in his arms. The glow of the celestial wonders captures in that second, a memory that will last forever — the sight of your man, the centre of your world, underneath the stars.

Ever so slowly, Bucky delicately brings his gaze back down to earth, and notices the distance between the two of you. His voice echoes across the room, off of the planets and stars as he asks with a waver in his voice, “H–How did you know?”

You smile. “That you’re kind of an astronomy nerd?”

Bucky only nods his head, still at a loss for words. Strands of his neatly tucked hair fall over his eyes, and you take a deep breath and steady your own voice. “Do you remember our first movie night with Stevie and Nat?”

There is a small hum of acknowledgement from deep in his throat.

“Well,” you continue, “I remember the two of them were arguing, it took them ages to settle on a film choice. I was beginning to lose my tether.” The recollection of the memory — their voices and banter make you chuckle. “Anyway, a trailer came up on the TV for an upcoming film about an astronaut getting stuck in space — the Martian, maybe? I’m not too sure.”

He is purely focused on you as you speak, and you begin to recall your favourite part of the memory with a fond smile, ignoring the slight lump in your throat from the overwhelming flood of fondness and adoration. “But I watched– I watched as your head snapped up instantly. You were enamoured, Bucky — I’ve never seen you so hooked into anything more in my life.”

Time freezes as Bucky stands there, unmoving and speechless. The lack of reaction from him makes your stomach twist with nerves, and you rush to fill the silence, rambling on, “Then I noticed the smaller things. Your stack of astronomy books on your nightstand, the NASA merch I find when I steal one of your sweaters.” A small laugh escapes then at his incredulous expression. “And so, I went out on a whim, piecing everything together, and I– well, I thought I should try my chances.”

“You really—” Bucky swallows the lump stuck in his throat. “You noticed all of that?”

“Of course I did, Bucky,” you tell him with reverence. “How could I not notice something you’re in love with?” The colours of the night sky shimmer over his face and over the sheen in his eyes as he stares at you. Hesitantly, you ask, “D–Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” He repeats, huffing a breath. “Do I– do I like it–?”

There’s a thud as the basket he was holding falls to the floor, and you gasp while he storms towards you and picks you up around your waist to spin you around in the air.

His grin is wide while you squeal with shock. “Damn right I like it!” he shouts with pride. “My girl is the fucking best!”

“Ah–! Bucky!” The skirt of your dress flutters over your thighs as you hold onto his shoulders.

He whoops and yells his happiness, and after a few rotations, he carefully places you back down onto the floor, only he doesn’t stop his persistent touch — kisses scatter over your face, never lingering in one place for more than a second.

“You’re — so — amazing.” His lips move downwards from your face to your jaw, then your neck. “Can’t — believe — you’re — actually — mine.”

The ache in your stomach flutters from your laughter, though you are on cloud nine and find it difficult to care when the boy you’ve had a crush on for so long is kissing your face like there is no tomorrow.

Eventually, Bucky begins to calm down, settling his forehead against yours while wrapping his hands around your waist. “This means everything to me, Buttercup.” He grants you a slow, final kiss to your lips. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome, sweet boy.” You move closer into his chest and peck him on the lips. “Now let’s have that picnic.”

The two of you sit under the largest planet, and you dive into the contents of the picnic basket to find Natasha has packed a whole range of finger foods from sandwiches, mini cakes, to strawberries and grapes. A small bottle of your favourite drink is tucked into the side of the basket, next to two glasses.

After a toast, “To what the universe has planned for us,” you both bask in one another’s company — two tiny specks of the universe coming together as one.

You listen intently as Bucky excitedly rambles about the different planets, as well as his love for Mars in particular. The gesticulation and smile on his face is priceless, and you only wish you had thought to bring a camera.

Bucky continues endlessly — listing interesting facts about each planet and star he knew, and he goes into detail about any active NASA projects or upcoming ones he’s been keeping track of.

Not only is he an avid storyteller, he makes sure to involve you in the conversation, engaging you with silly questions on whether you believe in other life out there, and any of your thoughts you have about historical space ventures.

It is easy to fall into step with his passion, and you know that you could stare all night as his whole face lights up, especially his eyes, while he talks about something he thought no one noticed before.

But you did.

The highlight is when Bucky begins to talk about star constellations — his love and adoration surpassing that of anything you had heard from him before.

He sits behind you, legs resting either side of your body while he holds you to his chest with one arm, the other pointing up towards the dome ceiling. “You see that one there, Bee?” There’s a cluster of twinkling stars in the direction of his gesture. “The large rectangle one — that’s Orion.”

The soothing rumble of his voice against your back is remedying — home.

“It’s also known as Orion The Hunter,” Bucky explains further. “A Greek name, but its true origin is believed to come from the ancient times of Babylon.”

“It’s beautiful, Bucky,” You sigh happily. The cluster and the whole of the night’s sky is truly beautiful — once they were just a pattern of lights in the sky to you, now they hold far more meaning.

“Yeah,” your boyfriend agrees. You don’t see how his eyes flicker down to you, rather, you only feel his cheeks rising in a smile. “It is.” He clears his throat. “The constellation includes two of the brightest stars in the sky.”

“Really?” You hunch forward a little to look upwards.

“Mhm,” Bucky confirms with a hum.

With a huff of effort, you push yourself up onto your feet, and walk closer to the constellation until you are directly underneath the pattern of stars. It’s with a new appreciation you stare up at the twinkling lights that you didn’t have before — admiring the complexity of the placement but the simple beauty of it.

The reflection from the dome ceiling illuminates onto your skin, tattooing patterns of a realm that will never be discovered for its full existence.

Bucky, however, focuses entirely on you — his girl, in a reality the two of you once never thought possible.

A shuffling of feet comes from next to you, and Bucky stands and makes his way towards you. He places both of his hands onto your cheeks to tilt your head back down, to be back in the present with him. “Maybe not the brightest. But that’s okay, because that one is only meant for me anyway.”

It’s sudden, but it consumes you whole — mind, body, and soul — of the realisation that Bucky Barnes is the love of your life.

You fight the tears threatening to bubble to the surface, though it’s futile — a few escape and trail down your cheeks to collect on Bucky’s thumbs. Those three pesky words fight to spill from your heart and out into the open, to hang in the closing distance between Bucky and you.

But somehow, it doesn’t seem like the right time. A fragile moment that while you know could truly never break, uttering those words feels like it will shatter the last of your resolve.

And so, you save them; sealing your mouth closed with a sworn promise to let them go soon.

Seconds go by as you collect yourself, and then you manage in a choked voice, “My, my — What have you done with my Bucky?”

“He’s still here,” Bucky vows. “You just make me so dizzy — so goddamn fuckin’ dizzy — that I’ll spill whatever comes to mind.”

That makes two of you.

You place your hands over his, still encapsulating your face. “Well, you certainly know how to make a girl swoon, handsome.”

His lips turn upwards in a lopsided grin that shows a slither of his pearly whites. “I would find a way to pull the moon out of the sky if you asked me to, Buttercup.”

There is no doubt in your heart over that — Bucky would go to the ends of the earth for you. But you didn’t need that, you have everything you could wish for already in the palm of your hands. “Lucky for you, I’ll only ask for a dance underneath it.”

Bucky’s lopsided grin turns into a thousand-watt smile, as bright as the stars above you both. “Now that is something I can make happen.”

There’s no music, no beat for the two of you to follow, but that doesn't stop Bucky from gathering you closer to his chest — his arms cross over your back to pull you flush with his front.

You turn your head to the side and lay your cheek against him, wrapping your arms around his neck to better hold him.

The steady rhythm of his heart guides the steps to your dance, the slow sway side to side of your bodies. You feel the brush of his lips at your temple, then he mutters something under his breath; a barely there string of unintelligible words that do nothing but add to the peace of the moment.

Bucky sighs and hugs you tighter.

The night is only just beginning.

Part Three

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undreaming-fanfiction · 3 months

Text

What I Wouldn't Do

This fanfiction is a Valentine's Day exchange gift for the lovely @henderdads. Cass, Eddie absolutely hates Valentine's Day, but for Steve? Well. He's willing to make an exception. Have an amazing Valentine's Day, you deserve it so much!!

Sometimes, it is difficult to reconcile several different truths in our lives.

Eddie currently has this dilemma.

Truth A: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson’s boyfriend, allegedly loves sappy romantic things, Valentine's Day included.

Truth B: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington's boyfriend, feels like if the world ever has to end, it should do so on February 14th, for this is the worst day of all days, the day of heart-shaped chocolate that tastes like crap, couples exchanging sweet words and bodily fluids, sometimes even semi-publicly, and don't even get him started about that horrible romantic music.

After swearing on the Munson doctrine he won’t sell his soul to consumerism for anything and anyone but Steve, Eddie Munson decides to ignore Truth B. Steve Harrington deserves the best Valentine's day in the history of this idiotic holiday and Eddie has a hunch, a massive, Everest-sized hunch, that in all of his previous Valentine's days, Steve was always the one to do all the work. His beautiful and brave people-pleasing boyfriend.

Then Eddie realizes another very uncomfortable truth. He has no idea how to celebrate Valentine’s Day. He spent the twenty one-ish years of his existence avoiding the holiday, so now he has to do some research.

He starts small. When they walk together in the Hawkins center, careful not to touch or hold hands because Hawkins still remains a backward hellhole, he notes what Steve looks at. If his eyes linger on a certain flower for a few seconds, he makes a mental note. A mental note means in Eddie's case that he repeats the name of the flower ad nauseum, quickly excuses himself and scribbles it onto his forearm not to forget. He even buys a permanent marker for this. He can't forget anything, not when it's important for Steve.

When Steve asks about the scribbles, he claims it's for the next campaign. He even draws a sword and a shield next to the notes to avoid suspicion.

He asks many questions, most of them under the pretense of helping Gareth with his dates. "I swear, Steve, when he's lovestruck, he gets completely stupid. Not stupid stupid, Gareth's smart, but he can't hold rhythm and we need him to hold it, he's our drummer! So save this suffering aspiring rockstar and tell me, what do you think is the best type of chocolate? Milk chocolate? Okay, and is that like, universal? Did your previous dates like it? I see, a majority then! Sooo...are you a part of that majority?"

Very smooth.

See, Eddie doesn't give a flying demobat about chocolate types, he's more into hard candy. He doesn't like cut flowers, they die anyways because you cut them, how is that fair to that flower, huh? To die for being pretty? And of course, he hates the whole EXPECTATION of Valentine's Day.

But the more he asks, the more he finds out, he doesn't see it as participating in the mindless machinery of lovestruck idiots. Instead, he sees the flush on Steve's cheeks when he talks about dark chocolate with dried raspberries and how his parents once brought it back from dad's trade conference, how it was love at first taste. He scratches out the idea for a bouquet of flowers when Steve mentions he’s always hated them because the flowers are so beautiful and vibrant, but they’re cut for an obligation in their prime. “It sounds stupid when I say it,” he chuckles, “but I want them to live until they’re ugly and withered, you know? They’re worth way more than their looks.”

Eddie could kiss him right there and then. And he does.

He brings it all together, prepares all of Steve’s favorites with a silly twist because it’s Eddie, and Eddie lives for silly things. It really needs to be his favorites because Steve once admitted to him that most people with the exception of Robin and Dustin don’t really know what he likes, they just assume. And Steve is happy that people even thought about him, he thanks them and treasures those things that don’t mean anything to him. To Steve, being thought about is enough.

Well, not to Eddie Munson.

He asks Steve not to plan anything for their Valentine's Day. Or more precisely, he asks him to stay free and available and not worry his beautifully hairy head. He knows that if he didn't say this, Steve would have gone above and beyond for him, he would have likely taken Eddie to a concert with music so loud he’d get a migraine, but he’d suffer through it. So Eddie has to stop that from happening.

On the actual day, Eddie prepares everything. He sends Gareth ("You owe me so much for this. SO MUCH, MUNSON. I actually wanted to watch this tonight!") to rent Steve's favorite movie and goes himself to get access to the Hawkins High with…almost completely legal means, just a little bit of bribing here, some promises for a lengthy D&D campaign there, and of course lots and lots of nougat.

He gathers everything in his van, waits for the kids and the janitor to get out and then starts setting the scene.

There are two more incompatible truths that Eddie Munson grapples with:

Truth A: Eddie Munson fucking HATES the Hawkins High. He wants it to burn down in flames, with only the theater room staying intact.

Truth B: Steve Harrington sometimes wistfully mentions how he wishes he could have dated Eddie Munson in high school. How they’d share lunches, trade secret kisses in the hallways. He wishes himself and the world had been different.

And so Eddie Munson grits his teeth, walks those cursed hallways he only managed to escape a few months back and counts on Robin Buckley to deliver his invitation with flair. “Extra points if you get him a trumpet solo, Buckley!”

Robin apparently delivers because only half an hour after the expected invite, as he is smoking his fifth cigarette - don’t blame the guy, he’s nervous! He’s got a big date! - Steve arrives with a smile that’s equally excited and nervous. He keeps running his fingers through his hair and overall looks just biteable.

Steve walks up to him and brushes his fingers against Eddie’s wrist, discreetly as they have established. It’s their own version of a kiss. “I thought you hated Valentine’s Day?” he asks and he looks so apologetic that Eddie promises to base all villains in his new campaign on all the people who ever made Steve feel he wanted too much.

Eddie glances around, deems it safe and pulls Steve into an actual kiss. "It might be Valentine's day for you, Steve. For me, it's the "Steve Harrington Appreciation Day." He winks at Steve and relishes in the slight blush that has crept into his cheeks. “The name is already registered and all. No changes possible or accepted. Follow me, big boy.”

Steve laughs when he sees a set cafeteria table with something that brings back so many memories. How did Eddie get two portions of school lunch?! The man has to be magical, he decides. They eat together, chat about their day, and then Eddie decides feeding each other is off the table because they’re giggling so much he almost stabbed Steve with the fork.

They walk the hallways together, hand in hand, and Eddie sometimes turns around, sticks his tongue out at an imaginary girl and sneers “back off! He’s mine!”.

Steve turns after Eddie and nods. “What he said,” he whispers and squeezes Eddie’s waist.

Eddie then hands Steve a sports bag he stashed in the changing rooms and winks at him. “What are you waiting for, Harrington? We have some balls to toss! Baskets to score. That.” And before Steve has a chance to protest, he gets his own bag and starts changing into those awfully familiar PE shorts in all their green and white glory.

Steve just watches him, mouth hanging open. “Now I get why I never saw you in these,” he mumbles as he also starts changing. “I would have realized I’m bi like, at that moment.”

But Eddie just laughs and pulls his hair into a loose bun. “Oh, Steve. You have no idea what those shorts on you did to the little closeted me. The thoughts they gave me.”

“Lucky for you, baby,” says Steve and pulls Eddie to his feet, “this time you’re allowed - and strongly encouraged - to both watch AND touch.” Then he cocks his head to the side and adds: “Well. If you score at least one point.”

Eddie tries. Fails. Tries again, even with Steve helping him. Eventually, they settle for a quick game of tic-tac-toe which Eddie wins and happily squeezes Steve’s butt.

Their final destination is the only class they ever shared, history. All desks are empty, except for one - the middle one in the second row, where Steve used to sit. There’s dark chocolate with dried raspberries, Steve’s favorite, and a pot of flowers. Yellow, another favorite.

“The lady in the flower shop said they should live, like, really long,” shrugs Eddie and moves the chair for Steve so he can sit down. “I forgot their name the second I got them, but Buckley knows and she was asked to deliver a booklet with how to care for them.”

Steve drags him down to his level and kisses Eddie, deep and long. He’s either crying or laughing into the kiss, maybe both. “I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into Eddie’s cheek. “All of this…is right. It’s me. You remembered.”

“Eh…kinda. Tried to.” Eddie gives up and lets himself be seated on Steve’s lap. “Actually, I had a small…cheat sheet. Let me show you.”

Steve watches as Eddie takes off his bracelet and watch and sets both on the desk. He gasps as he sees a coiling pattern around Eddie’s wrist, something that looks like a dotted or scratched tattoo all around, but that’s not it. Because then Eddie moves his wrist closer and he can read all the words on Eddie’s skin.

DARK CHOCOLATE WITH RASPBERRIES

NO CUT FLOWERS! YELLOW IS GOOD

COFFEE WITH ONE DROP OF MILK

NO ICE IN DRINKS - TRIGGERS MIGRAINES

BELTS AND SHOELACES - GOOD GIFTS TO WEAR

FREDDIE MERCURY

GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY

NO KETCHUP!

STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM

These and so much more. All of Steve’s favorites, all what made him feel like himself, forever preserved in Eddie’s skin.

He buries his head in Eddie’s shoulder and holds him so tight Eddie has trouble breathing, but then he decides that oxygen is overrated. “You’re so crazy,” sobs Steve into his shoulder.

Eddie laughs again into the quiet of their former school. “I know.”

“And I love you so much.”

He kisses Steve’s forehead. “I know. And I love you too. That’s why I had to do this, you know. Because even when I’m old and ugly, just like these flowers will be one day, when I’m senile and can hardly remember my own name, I will look at my hand and I’ll know all that is important.”

Steve holds him even tighter if that’s possible, but maybe oxygen is needed just a little. Eddie gently kisses Steve’s head again and whispers: “We’re not done yet, love. Can you let me go so I can play us a movie? Something nice.”

The arms crushing him loosen their hold and Steve briefly turns away to wipe at his eyes. “Sure. Sorry, I just…this is new for me. But good. So good.”

“You deserve the good. All of it.” Eddie means it. And if seeing Steve appreciated as he should have been all of his life is redeemed by something as mundane as ignoring some truths about himself? Eddie is ready and willing.

As he puts Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom into the VHS player, he realizes something terrifying - he’s actually LOOKING FORWARD TO THE NEXT VALENTINE’S DAY.

Oh well. Time to adjust the Munson doctrine. After all, it might become a Munson-Harrington doctrine one day, so it deserves some revision.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steve x eddie #sweetandspicyexchange

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doki-doki-imagines · 3 months

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You give them a gift for Valentine's Day

feat. Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Hyoma Chigiri

author note: as much as I dislike him, it's always thanks to Sae if I find inspo for bllk fics. This is such a hard life. Happy Valentine to you all!!

Michael Kaiser: -"I expected you to be the first today. Why are you late?" He asks mildly annoyed. "Look, now I'm full of chocolates from my fans." He points behind him. You don't see anything, ready to throw your gift at his face already tired of his antics. "Well, if you have already so many, I guess you don't care about mine anymore-" You turn around, not seeing a worried expression now on his face, blonde eyebrow raised. "I guess I'll give them to someone that will appreciate them more." "No-Wait!" Michael is on his knees, one arm hugging your legs to keep you still, the other tugging at your cute sweater. -Bingo. -You go fast and loose a bit more before you finally give him his chocolates. -"Finally-Now wait for me." He runs towards his car, where he pulls out an enormous bouquet of blue roses. "These aren't fake, but perfectly crafted by expert hands." He says with a smirk on his face, blonde strands framing his face as he leans down a bit towards you. "Just the best for the best." -You take the bouquet, and Michael kisses your forehead before ruffling your hair. Your dumbstruck expression makes him laugh. -You have to admit that he makes your heart skip a few beats.

Sae Itoshi: -His cheeks don't turn the same color as his hair, he doesn't stutter. -"Thanks" He says before giving you a brief kiss at the corner of your lips. -He pulls from behind his back a bouquet full of flowers; roses, daisies, irises all in the shades of red and orange. -Sae won't say he expected something from you, but for sure he would have been pretty annoyed if he didn't receive anything. -As always he doesn't show many emotions, but you are used to that. -Sae hopes you'll notice the soft gesture he does: opening doors for you, calling you soft pet names and trying to be nice for more than 10 minutes. -You notice how good-looking he is today. Sae is all dolled up and…is that lipgloss? -The idea of him wanting to make a good impression on you makes you feel warm all over your body. -"Thanks Sae, the flowers are wonderful." A hint of a smile appears on his face. "Just the best for you."

Hyoma Chigiri: -His eyes shine when you give him a cute heart package. -"Wait here!" He says, running up the stairs, you suppose to his room. -When he comes back a small bouquet of freshly picked flowers is in his right hand in the other there is a peluche. -A peluche of your fave character. -You almost scream with joy. Hugging him the instant your eyes meet his gift. -"Hof- I suppose you liked this." He smiles, the kind that reaches his rouge pink eyes. You nod, delivering a big kiss on his left cheek. -Thank God his sister reminded him that today is Valentine day! He has been so busy with blue lock he forgot about it. -But now with you in his arms, so happy and a bit dumb for love, Hyoma is sure he'll never forget about Valentine's Day again.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk headcanons #blue lock headcanons #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #chigiri hyoma #chigiri x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader

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beesspacedotorg · 3 months

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Romance is Doomed (Lie)

Summary: your parents tumultuous relationship has given you very little hope and expectations for your own. your boyfriend, Seungmin, seems determined to change that ... at least until he forgets an important romantic holiday. 4.2k

Warnings: angst. fluff. Kim Seungmin. porn. insecure reader. edging. no body type or pronouns mentioned. bad (?) parents. I wrote this based on a very sad conversation my parents had, so reader has mommy and daddy issues (double whammy). reader is insecure and at one point starts waxing poetic about being unlovable (????) but Seungmin calls them out on it so dw. This is my first time writing Seungmin so ... he might be a little ooc.

note: I don't really have an explanation for this. my parents made me sad so I wrote a fanfiction about Kim Seungmin to make me feel better. This is incredibly self indulgent, so if you don't like it that's okay. this is literally in my google docs as "This is for me and if you don't like it, sucks" so.

You know that it’s his job, so you can never get mad at him for it, not really. That would be irrational, and crazy, and you are neither of those things- or, not enough of those things to kick up a fuss. Still, when you hear him say it something in your chest pangs and you are left with a weird, hollow emptiness that you have no name for.

“Who’s your valentine?” Everyone is asking him, he’s an idol, it’s his job.

“Stay!” He smiles cutely and it squints his eyes slightly as he does. You can see his perfectly white and perfectly aligned teeth on your phone and you pause the video to switch to a different app instead, but your feed is perfectly curated to show you videos and pictures of your boy and his group, so all you see is him and that damned clip from that damned video.

You’re launched back to a conversation you’d had with your parents. It was in jest, you weren’t serious, but the tone of the day shifted drastically after you’d asked it.

“Mom, who’s your Valentine?” You were drinking the soda you’d just refilled and wincing slightly at the carbonation as you walked towards the car.

“No one, your Dad hasn’t asked me yet.”

“Dad, are you and Mom each other's Valentines?” He’s opening the door as you ask.

“No.” You can see your mom’s face fall, and for the rest of the day there’s a kind of gray cloud hanging over your parents. That moment sticks with you, and every year you think about it.

You and Seungmin are different though, you’re absolutely positive that he loves you. You’re absolutely positive that he cares about you and wants you around, you’re absolutely positive that if he wanted to get rid of you, he would. But he hasn’t, so you trust that he wants you around. But, this is his job. This is his job and you knew what you were getting into when the two of you started dating, so you can’t be mad at him, you won’t be mad at him.

“How are things at home?” You’re on the phone with your mother, you call her once a week. No matter what she’s put you through, she’s still your mother and you still love her, so you call.

“Oh, the usual. Your Dad is being. You know.” She sounds sad as she says it, and the worst part is that you do know. Crotchety and mean and in pain and cruel. So, you do know, and you feel bad for your mom when she says it. She is his wife, and he cannot spare her a drop of kindness.

The call ends, as it always does, with one of you saying something cutting and the other hanging up without responding to the “I love you” at the other end of the line. You look at your calendar. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and he still hasn’t asked you. Your mom says he might just assume that you two are each other’s Valentine’s because you’re together, you say that it would still be nice if he asked. Your mom tells you not to hold your breath. You tell her that you aren’t planning on it.

It took the two of you a while to get together, longer than it should have, probably. But, as in all things, you are naturally distrustful of the intentions of strangers, or strangers-turned-friends-turned-? so you avoided the topic any time he would try and hint at it.

“I have two tickets to the Giants game tonight!”

“Sick! Those are hard to come by, Seungminnie! I hope you and Jeongin have fun.”

“Well, actually-”

“Hey! Did I ever tell you about this thing I saw the other day?”

When you did finally stop avoiding it, he asked you why, and you told him it was stupid, and he said nothing can be stupider than the time he and Felix managed to over whip the eggs for their souffle pancakes, truly a feat considering the fact that the eggs they were using were cold.

“I like you a lot,” you’d said. “I like you a lot and it feels like the love I have for you is replacing the air that I breathe, and I know, one day, you’ll get tired of me and my sadness and my everything, and I’d rather not have to spend years of my life filling in the hole that you’ll leave with foam that’ll collapse come morning.”

He’d paused for a moment, and you’d looked at the ground.

“I don’t want you to get tired of me and leave. I don’t want to be afraid you’ll leave so I do it first and regret it days later. I don’t want you to get tired of me and stay only to make jabs at me until I am nothing but a pasta strainer masquerading as a person.”

He’d frowned at you.

“Do you really think that little of me?”

“What?”

“Do you think that I would walk away like that? That I wouldn’t put in effort to stay, or to make you stay? That I would hate you so much that I would share a bed with you and hurt you at the same time?”

“No, but-”

“Listen,” he grabs your hands, “I’m not entirely sure why you think the way that you do about these things, and I won’t promise that I won’t hurt you- I’m not that stupid. But I promise that I’ll try not to, that I’ll make it up to you if I do. But you have to promise me something too, okay?”

“What’s the promise?”

“Don’t think of me that way. I’m mean, sure, but I’m not evil.”

“It’s not that I think you’re evil-”

“But I’m the one doing those things to you, right? In your head, it’s me? Whether you deserve it or not, I’m the one doing it.”

“... I see your point.”

“Good, I was running out of emotionally intelligent things to say. If you hadn’t been worn down we would’ve had to rain check this conversation for another day.” You laugh at him and he holds your hand.

“Your whole speech was really poetic, by the way, how long have you been sitting on that?”

“How long have I been alive?” He laughs, because he was supposed to, but he places a kiss on your temple too. And there’s a moment where you think that romance isn’t doomed, and, maybe, neither are you.

The first time you and Seungmin have sex, you spend the whole time worrying if he secretly finds you gross and disgusting. Well, you try to, but at that point, he’s gotten pretty good at telling when you’re writing heavy prose in your head and he then does his absolute best at making you lose your mind with pleasure. He succeeds.

“What were you thinking about?” Is what he says while he’s testing the shower water to make sure it’s hot enough to keep you warm. You’d tried to find a happy middle once, while you were showering together (In the dark, because “your eyes hurt”. You just weren’t ready for him to see you naked.) and goosebumps had broken out across your skin almost immediately, you’d shivered so hard it sent your teeth chattering, and your lips had started turning blue. When the two of you got out and Seungmin noticed, he’d said that you two would just shower together at temperatures comparable to the lakes of hell and he’d get over himself.

You shake your head at him. He won’t like your answer. He asks you this often, when you shrink in on yourself, and when you tell him, he always looks a little sad. But you don’t like to lie, and it’s bad manners to keep things a secret from your partner, so you tell him.

“I was worried you thought I was like, I dunno. Ugly, or something.” He deadpans at you. You worry that he’s mad. He huffs and drags a hand down his face.

“I’ve never come so hard in my life and you think that I’m not attracted to you? I came so hard I nearly blacked out, came so hard I think I told you that I loved you and you think that I think you’re ugly.” You feel slightly chided. He grabs your hand and gently guides you into the shower.

“Just because you feel that way about yourself doesn’t mean that I do.” He’s looking into your eyes as he says it, tucking your hair out of the way because it doesn’t need to be washed yet while he reaches behind you to grab the body wash. You gape at him like a fish.

“Close your mouth,” he nudges your jaw shut gently, “you don’t want to catch flies.”

You have something new to think about.

241302 11:37 am

Seungminnie?

eunming

seunmind

no!

having trouble yoebo?

ah shit

haha! yoebo

-_-

what did you even want

I love uou

yoo

Jesus Christ

YOU

cringe

Your boy isn’t one for romance and displays of affection, you know that. But you’ve had such an awful and weird day that you can’t brush off what he says like you normally would. It’s not even noon and yet everything that could throw you off the wheel emotionally has. Like they all took turns, throwing you off, dragging you back in, and repeating it until you were a nice, buttery consistency.

He’s busy though, work and schedules and being an idol, so you reply with your usual sad face and nothing else and take a nap. Naps always fix things.

241302 11:45am

jagi?

is everything okay?

have fun doing whatever it is then

i enjoy being around you most of the time!

241302 1:27pm

hannie showed me this video

well

he didn’t show me per se

he showed linohyung and i was being nosy

but anyways

it was this cat that was very small

has an outrageous win/loss ratio for hunts

i think you would like it!

it’s called a

sorry i had to ask hannie its name again

the black footed cat he says

241302 4:15pm

hihi

you havent texted all day

are you gaming again kkkk

i was going to come over but i dont want to interrupt

should i just stay and game with yongbokkie???

maybe if we play genshin i’ll see you

we can finally co-op!

241302 5:27 pm

ahh

youre not on genshin :(

are you playing something else

jagi?

hmmm

make sure you eat and use the bathroom kkkkk

you always forget when you get sucked in

You’re jolted awake by a very loud and rough knock on your front door. Also by the sound of your phone ringing incessantly. You answer the phone first.

“Hello?” Your voice is slightly panicked, no one ever calls you save for when it’s an emergency, so you’re half expecting someone to be dying or dead when you pick up. You’re halfway out of bed and scanning your floor for a pair of pants when the banging on your door stops and you register the voice on the other end of the phone.

“Did you change your lock?”

“Did I- Seungmin, what?”

“My key doesn’t work anymore.” He sounds like he’s pouting.

“The building changed it recently. Something about security measures or whatever.”

“Ah. Come open the door.” You’re opening the door as he says it, rubbing your eyes and blinking at him.

“Were you asleep?” He’s toeing his shoes off. He has something behind his back.

“Yeah.”

“Explains why you didn’t answer your texts, then. I got worried.” He kisses the side of your face.

“Seungmin, what on earth is in your hands right now?” He looks down.

“Keys and my phone.” You stare at him.

“The other one, genius.”

“Yes, I like to think I am. Thank you.” You keep staring. He sighs. He hands you a thing of your favorite candy with a note that says “more to follow” attached.

“It’s come to my attention-”

“Was it Chan? Or Changbin, this time?” He glares slightly.

“It’s come to my attention, and I realized this all on my own with no outside help-”

“Sure.”

“With some outside help-”

“Better.”

“That tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and some people enjoy being asked by their partners if they will participate.”

“Is this you asking?”

“I’m getting there!” He takes your hands the best he can while you’re still holding the candy and the note and looks at you again.

“I am sorry I didn’t ask sooner. I will ask sooner next year and the year after that and the year after that and so on and so forth. But!” He gets down on one knee. You kick him slightly with your foot.

“Unless you’re proposing, you better stand back up.” He stands back up.

“Will you be my Valentine?” You can feel your eyes water.

“If I have to.” You roll your eyes for show. Seungmin stands still for a moment.

“Is that how I sound to you?”

“Sometimes.” He raises an eyebrow. “Most of the time.”

“I am hilarious.” You roll your still-wet eyes as you open the candy.

“That’s not the whole gift.”

“I gathered, there’s a note that says so right here.” He huffs at you, giving you that deadpan stare again. He told you once that you’re one of the few people he’s met who can give and take his sarcasm in equal measures, you told him that was the nicest thing he’s ever said to you, he hit you with a pillow.

He doesn’t answer, instead he pulls you closer by the back of your neck and kisses you. Kissing Seungmin is always an experience, it always makes your head slightly fuzzy and makes your heart stutter in your chest. You think that if it was possible to die by kissing, you would’ve done it the first time you and Seungmin made out. As it stands, you just feel a little unsteady on your feet.

Seungmin pulls away and you catch yourself staring at his mouth, wet and pink and swollen just enough that it reminds you of when he had braces and his mouth was always slightly pushed out. He grabs your hand and leads you to your bedroom, placing his gifts for you somewhere on your dresser before he nudges you onto the bed.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” His hands are winding around your waist, pushing your shirt out of the way, and he’s kissing you again.

“You’ve told me before,” you say it against his mouth, hands coming to tangle in his soft, fluffy, recently dyed hair and you can feel the sigh he emits from where your chests are pressed together.

“Can I compliment you just once?” You smile, cheeky.

“No. Never.” He grumbles something about you being impossible as he tugs your shirt off, leaning down to mouth at your chest. You tug his hair lightly and he shoots a glare up at you.

“What.”

“It’s not fair that I’m not wearing a shirt and you are.”

“‘It’s not fair that-’ Be patient.”

“I thought this was a Valentine’s day gift.”

“It’s about to turn into a Valentine’s day ungift if you don’t stop.”

“What the fuck is an ungift?” He shoves his hand down your pants to shut you up.

“You always have to be so difficult,” you interrupt his sentence with a choked off moan. “Can’t ever just be good for me, can you? Always have to fight me every step of the way.” You shake your head at him, denying it.

“Don’t lie, you’re doing it right now. You’re lucky today is a holiday, or I really would turn this into whatever the opposite of a gift is.”

The tone shift would’ve given you whiplash if you had enough mental facilities left to think, or if this wasn’t so on par with what you expect from him. Seungmin likes to keep you on your toes, sometimes letting you push without any retaliation, sometimes letting you get away with nothing at all. It seems he’s more merciful today, and you pull him close for a “thank you” peck that soon turns into something more.

“Seungmin, please-”

“Desperate. You’re always so desperate.”

“You’re being mean.”

“Am I?” The hand that’s touching you slows down and you whine at him. “Am I being mean to you?” He tilts his head to the side, falsely curious and fully condescending. He adds a fake pout for good measure.

“I’m sorry. I’m supposed to be apologizing after all. I should be nicer to you, shouldn’t I?” He’s cooing slightly at you, and you know he’s not being genuine, but you really just want him to go back to touching you like he was earlier, so you pout back and nod. He gives you a kiss on your downturned mouth and picks his pace back up.

Soon enough, you’re forgetting that he was ever being devious in the first place and then you’re spilling on his fingers. You’re brutally reminded when he keeps going, when he pins down your hands as they try to push him away, when he bullies his stupidly slender hips between your thighs so you can’t close them. It feels like your nerves are on fire, but at the same time you want more. You’re cumming again and tears spring to your eyes at the confusing sensation of too much and not enough and you can vaguely hear Seungmin mumbling empty platitudes at you through the sharp ringing in your ears.

There’s a brief pause where he shoves your bottoms and underwear off, mad about them being in his way, and then the confusing feeling is back again as his hand returns.

“Seungminnie, Seungmin, I can’t, I can’t.” You’re thrashing around hard enough that you’ve accidentally kicked the comforter off the bed.

“You can. I know you can. Just this last one, okay, baby? And then you can have whatever you want.” You know he would stop if you wanted him to, but you don’t really want him to. You want him to make you come a third time on his fingers and then you want to do it on his cock. His stupidly perfect cock.

Sometimes, when you’re busy waxing poetic about love and Seungmin and life, you think about how the two of you were most certainly made for each other. How Seungmin was made to fit you in all the ways that you were made to fit him and that whatever force brought you together made his cock with you in mind. The way it fits inside you and gives you that almost-too-full feeling without ever being too much always makes your head spin and you clench involuntarily at the thought of it even now. It doesn’t escape Seungmin’s notice, because of course it doesn’t, and he laughs a little at you.

He stops laughing when you come on his hand again, and eases you through it until you're twitching away from him and whining and then he’s kissing the space between your eyebrows and shucking off his own clothes.

You spend a minute just staring at him. He’s beautiful. You think he’s the most handsome and perfect man in the world and he has the audacity to walk around saying that he’s just “decent.” It’s moments like these where you finally understand what he gets all pissy about when you say you don’t like the way you look.

You’re drawn back into reality when you see him wrap one of his beautifully huge hands around his dick and you whine at him.

“What now?” The words are meant to be sharp but he’s too out of breath when he says them, so you brush it off.

“You said I could have whatever I wanted and I want your cock!” You sound petulant, even to yourself. “You can’t- Seungmin!” He huffs and drops his hand from himself and you can see his muscles tense with how hard he’s trying to give you what you want.

“Needy and desperate. You came three times and I can’t even come once before you’re begging for more.” He’s sliding into you as he says it, wincing as you tighten in sensitivity and stilling with the effort of not coming too soon. You nod at him anyways, finally agreeing to the things he’s saying. If he asked you to jump out of an airplane with no parachute right now, you’d probably say yes, as long as he would finally start fucking you.

“Mhm. Want you- want you all the time. Need you all the time.”

“Yeah? All the time?” His hips are sloppy and uncoordinated as he fucks into you, but you wouldn’t be able to handle much anyway with how sensitive you are, so you’re grateful that Seungmin has lost his composure.

“All the time.”

“Guess that makes you a slut then, hmm?” You huff, gathering as much of your shot coordination as you can to weakly hit him in the chest.

“No. Only want- I only want you.” He coos, softening.

“Yeah? Only me?” You nod. “Does that make you my slut then?” You shake your head. “No? What are you then, hmm?” You’re not sure, but you know that you love him, and the force of your love for him shakes every atom in your body if you think about it too long.

“I love you.” It’s all you can say, so it’s all that comes out of your mouth and Seungmin kisses your face because he can’t aim for a specific spot with how the two of you are moving and you know that he understands you because he always does.

“I love you, too. Love you so much. I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.” You let out a slight sob against his mouth and he shushes you.

“Pretty, you’re so pretty, baby. I love you so much.” He’s muttering it against your skin, hips meeting yours over and over until you’re tightening around him with an orgasm that’s almost too much to handle and he’s spilling into you too.

There’s a moment where the two of you just sit there, panting and breathing each other’s air, stuck together with sweat and cum and Seungmin’s dick that’s still inside of you and then your lip is wobbling and tears are spilling hot and fresh down the sides of your face.

“Woah, woah what’s wrong? My dick game isn’t that bad, is it?” You shake your head at him and tug him down for a hug. He lets out a noise as he’s flattened against you and his face is smushed against the bed. He has to move his head to the side to avoid suffocating, so his breath is hitting the inside of your ear and you move your head away because it’s very uncomfortable. He wraps his arms around you the best that he can from your position and when his dick slips out, you whine.

“Listen, I would totally love to still be inside you right now, but I think my dick might fall off, so just gimme a minute, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I thought you forgot.”

“Forgot- oh. About Valentine’s? I might’ve forgotten to ask you to be my Valentine, but I didn’t forget about the holiday. I was actually strong-arming Channie hyung into letting me skip out on our schedules tomorrow. I was- I am, gonna spend the day with you.” His voice is low because of how close he is to your ear, but yours isn’t when what he says makes you cry harder.

“Everyone always forgets.”

“Not me. Not me, baby. I have to live up to my title of most dedicated boyfriend, I can’t just forget about holidays.”

“Who even,” your breath catches because of your tears as you start to calm down, “who even gave you that title?”

“It’s not important.”

“Seungmin.”

“... it was Hannie.” You let out another cry, but you’ve calmed down enough that this one is for show.

“I can’t believe,” your breath hitches again, “I can’t believe you’re gonna leave me for Han Jisung, ace of Stray Kids.”

“Yeah,” he turns his face flat. “I am, unfortunately. Sorry to break it to you.”

“That’s okay,” you turn your tear-stained face to look at him, smirk stretching across your mouth, “I’ll just go and date Stray Kids’ best vocalist. Bang Christopher Chan.”

“Yah! You said you stopped having a crush on him!”

“And you said you wouldn’t leave me for one of your members!” He huffs and hides a smile in your shoulder as he moves to the side of you to hug you better.

“I love you. I really do,” he says. He’s moved your head to the side so you’re looking into his pretty brown eyes as he says it.

“I love you, too.” You do, you really do. You hope he can feel it from where he’s touching your skin. You hope he can feel it even when he’s nowhere near you. He smiles at you, and you think that he can. You think that he knows how much you love him and he loves you with the same sort of ferocity. You look at him and you think that romance isn’t doomed, and neither are you.

#bee blurbs #happy valentines day losers #ft.seungminnie #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #idk what other tags to add so this is all youre getting #seungmin x reader #seungmin smut

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aeyumicore · 3 months

Text

Love and Deepspace Boys Azure's Echo Day (Valentine's Day) Headcanons

♡ pairing: zayne x reader, xavier x reader, rafayel x reader

♡ genre: pure fluff!

♡ word count: 800ish

♡ content warning: none, just pure tooth rotting fluff!

♡ a/n: just some headcanons on how each of the boys act on v-day/azure's echo day! do they ask you to be their valentine? how do they ask? and what kind of bouquet do they get you. credit to my friend @/myusuchaa on twit for designing the cute ass flower cards below and coming up with the content as well. she is the most unhinged raf lover, go follow her!

ALSO the xavier smut is still dropping later tonight. but wanted to self indulge a bit and share with yall <3 HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY LOVES.

🌨️ Zayne

Does he ask you to be his Valentine?

Yes, he will ask you one week before the day, on the dot. Zayne might be blunt and sometimes abrasive, but he’s generous in affection for those he cares about, especially you, and incredibly perceptive. How do you think he climbed the medical ladder so fast? Also he won’t admit this, but he’s definitely taken mental notes on all the cheesy romance movies you’ve forced him to watch, so he’s learned a lot.

How does he ask?

Zayne is a simple romantic. But while his plan is simple, he pours over every little detail, no matter how minute. He’s had an appointment with his favorite florist for a month, and spends an hour hand picking each flower in the bouquet he’s planned for you. He will do his best to take the night off, though it isn’t unlikely he gets called in for emergency surgeries, to cook you dinner by candlelight even designing a whole ass menu for just the two of you. And only after you’ve finished dessert does he ask you if you’d do him the honor of being his Valentine.

What bouquet does he get you?

A custom bouquet of a few select blue tweedia flowers and cape jasmines. Simple and elegant, like him. It’s reminiscent of iridescent snowflakes amongst a flurry of pure white snow. He sprinkles a few of his own never melting snowflakes on top, but not touching the flowers as cape jasmines cannot tolerate cold or icy temperatures, and it’s truly picturesque. He’s created his very own beautiful snowstorm for you, capturing his essence like a snow globe.

💫 Xavier

Does he ask you to be his Valentine?

He doesn’t at first, not until Tara or Jeremiah ask him if he has, three days before Valentine’s Day. And once he realizes he’s supposed to, he's a panicked mess. But he will scrap his entire day of hunting and miscellaneous errands to formulate and execute a plan. He knows you deserve the absolute best and he’s kicking himself for potentially blowing this. Best believe he will never forget to ask you ever again.

How does he ask?

He goes missing all day on the 13th to find your favorite flowers and pastries from a bakery you two discovered on a past mission. It’s a whole day affair because he literally goes several towns over to get your pastries, and they always sell out within hours so he needs to go there the morning of. And then he arrives at your apartment door in a tailored white suit, his only one. With the most bashful grin and peachy pink face, he will ask you, his little star, to be his very first and last Valentine.

What bouquet does he get you?

You once told Xavier he reminded you of a Forget-me-not, and he remembers it to this very day. After all, the forget-me-not is known as a “star flower,” and you consider Xavier to be your very own shooting star, and he considers you his. So Xavier finds you a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots with a sprinkle of feverfew chamomile flowers amidst the sea of blue. It’s reminiscent of the glowing stars littered across the milky way, a view which you’d enjoyed with Xavier countless times.

🎨 Rafayel

Does he ask you to be his Valentine?

Yes. He asks a million times, starting on February 1st. And if you say no, a single time, expect chaos. Whining and screaming. Feet kicking. All the dramatics. Mumbling about how you don’t love him anymore. Even if you take it back and say yes he will still be a little baby about it. While he asks you many different times, his most “serious” ask would be the weekend before Valentine’s day.

How does he ask?

Even though you’ve said yes countless times, he plans the most extravagant date, which isn’t out of the blue since he’s often spoiling you with his wealth and affection. After a day on a little yacht on the sea, admiring the glimmering sun against the ocean current, he will literally get down on one knee to ask you to be his Valentine. We all know Rafayel is all for theatrics, but more than that he loves to tease you and render you speechless, so he does this especially to mess with you. He'll be on one knee: "Will you make me the happiest man alive......................and be my Valentine?" Truly insufferable, but we love him.

What bouquet does he get you?

Rafayel loves flame lilies; there’s always vases of them in his home. They’ve made several appearances in his paintings, and on more than one occasion has he randomly gifted you a bouquet of them. And with how much time you spend with him, and how much they remind you of him, they’ve become dear to your own heart. Eternal memories and final goodbyes, it’s the perfect symbol of everlasting, neverending, and tragic love. He pairs these with some baby’s breath to create a picture of innocence, purity, and new beginnings against the backdrop of fiery red passion. The bouquet encapsulates Rafayel himself.

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mo0nfairy · 11 months

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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART TWO !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 5.8k

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, sexual themes, stalking, gore, nightmares, weapons, breaking and entering, drugging/drug mentions, nudity, kidnapping, noncon touching, jill is a greasy rat basically lol.

jill valentine's yandere traits are . . .

possessive, dominant, & stalker

──── Jill Valentine hates the taste of coffee. Yet still, her kitchen cabinets are full of it.

Littered around her apartment, there are mugs stained with days-old coffee. The caffeinated scent clings to the walls and makes her stomach coil. A mess of documents sits on her cluttered desk. The October wind whistling through the window sends a few pieces fluttering down to the dirty floorboards. 3:57 AM is read on a digital clock in its neon red hues; the flickering lamp light on the desk illuminates the mess of broken pencils, coffee stains, and case files. With an accelerated heartbeat and heaving breaths, Jill hastily analyzes the CCTV footage on her jagged laptop.

Every person, every street sign, every single pixel on the screen. Maybe, just maybe, she'll find you among this mess.

Other tabs display missing persons' documents, reports from private investigators, and checkpoints on satellite imagery. Ms. 'I don't mind a little detective work' has spent every day of the past six years doing this exact thing. Weaving through any bit of information and manipulating every resource she could get her hands on. Everything she does is to try and find the one thing that matters more than anything to her.

Y/N L/N. The name she will never forget.

Jill remembers your sultry body, your delicious gratitude, your sweet blood staining her clothes; she will never forget how you sparked the beginning of her life in Raccoon City. She will always remember how she didn't know what emotion was until she met you and how Raccoon City was the best night of her life because of it. A raw flurry of fuzzy, warm feelings embraced her, as well as the cold fingertips of rage, envy, and fear. It was messy, but it was so, so beautiful.

There is nothing now.

Her worst fear had come alive. To continue to live every day just for the sake of living while desperately trying to fill the empty void within her — it had all come back in a flash. Just when she had wrapped her fingers around happiness, it was torn from her grasp like candy from a baby. And if you had asked where Jill thought she would be six years after that night, the image she would paint for you would be far more illuminative than the life she now lives. A rundown studio apartment infested with rats and cockroaches, but she'd be able to endure any germ-infested danger with the light of her life beside her. Every day would be spent deconstructing your facade and dissecting the beautiful person you are; every day would be spent dragging her fingertips along every inch of your body, blithely taking note of what makes you blush and squirm.

She would be happy. And you would be, too.

Jill is now stuck in a cave. Adorned in darkness and devoid of life. In a city she doesn't know, becoming a person she doesn't recognize — she can't fathom how disastrous her life had become since she lost you. She can't fathom the idea of you not being here with her, to begin with.

Skimming through the fatuous clues laid out before her, Jill takes a peek at the satellite imagery in one browser and something catches her eye. A habilitation, of some sort. Located in the middle of nowhere, overwhelmed with heaps of endless trees. She searches for any further information regarding this strange building, only to find there is no trace of this place even existing. It is certainly odd, yes, but does not relate to you in any shape or form. With that, she lets her curiosity go and occupies her time with more productivity.

Another hour drifts by. Waiting for a returning email from one of the numerous private investigators she hired, Jill reads through medical records in hopes of finding anything reminiscent of you. Maybe by some brush of luck, you'd still be treated for your broken arm six years later. However, this mysterious building still fogs up her mind. How could such a large structure be built with not a single trace existing? Surely, someone would have stumbled upon the property by now, right? Snuffing out her pride, Jill gathers the coordinates and sends them out to Tyrell. With his technology skills, he may be able to uncover something about the strange place. Even though Jill knows in her heart it's nothing but a dead end, it's still something, nonetheless. And after all this time of relentlessly doing the same thing over and over again, she has become desperate.

A sudden flare of lethargy envelops Jill. With her persistent intake of caffeine, this isn't anything abnormal. She's prone to just crashing at her bed, her desk, or sometimes, even onto the floor. With drooping eyelids, Jill folds her arms on the table and rests her head against them. There's no harm in a little shut-eye, right?

What she didn't expect is to be abruptly woken by a gentle tap on her shoulder. And she most certainly didn't expect to find you standing there beside her. Saccharine-sweet smile, skin clean of any zombie-induced grime — you're at her side wearing an old S.T.A.R.S. hoodie with your upper thigh peeking out of your sweatshorts (inevitably sending a flare of heat to Jill's core). In your hand is a cold beer, a prize for Jill after the hours of hard work she has endured at her desk. And she is just in pure awe at the sight of you. She discards the beverage in favor of pulling you into her lap. You swing your arms around her neck like a newlywed bride with that damned, heart-stuttering smile of yours growing from the sudden act of affection.

Jill's eyes peer down to your hips. Her rough fingers fidget with the elastic band of your shorts, subtly asking you to let her hands wander further. Her touch wanders beneath the hem of the ragged sweatshirt you were wearing. When her hand makes contact with the warm skin of your stomach, a gasp escapes her chest at the intimate contact. You gently place your soft hand atop hers, causing her vision to go hazy with clouds of lust, devotion, and rapture. You're here; you're alive. Her sweet, adoring, blue butterfly has returned to her and Jill can't handle the sheer euphoria that comes from the revelation.

It isn't until she feels your chest begin to stutter from silenced coughs does she finally return her focus to your face. Only to find your eyes had gone milky white, your skin growing purple in rotting hues, and decomposing gashes opening themselves all over your body as they gush out with puss. The wheezes protruding from you accelerate into harsh gags. A splurge of red-hot blood then spurts from your mouth and onto Jill. She has no time to revel in the burning fantasy of being covered in your bodily fluids, she can only stare in complete horror at what has befallen her beloved. You then push yourself off of Jill, to where you begin convulsing on the ground like a dying insect. It is horrifying. And to suddenly be without your touch after so long of hungrily basking in it — Jill hates to admit how badly it hurts her.

A sharp cry accompanied by a horrified gasp permeates the lonely air. Reality suddenly washes over her and Jill buries her face into her hands with a sigh of defeat. Another nightmare. Another fucking nightmare of millions. She should've known it'd be too good to be true; she should've known that a perfect life with you by her side was nothing more than a fantasy. And God, does it fucking kill her.

Stepping away from her disordered desk, she walks to the dresser sitting on the other side of the room. Jill digs through the unfolded mess of dirty laundry until she's finally able to dish out what she intended. The old S.T.A.R.S. sweatshirt you had worn in her dream. Despite the loose threads protruding from the hems and gaping holes littered against the fabric, you made it look like a piece of high fashion etched with velvet and silk. She wraps the article of clothing around her figure and snuggles into the article, pretending it's you she is holding in her arms. Jill then crouches down at the foot of her bed, plucking out a dilapidated shoe box from underneath. Inside is a singular item that has and always will remain the most important object Jill has ever possessed.

A bloodied bandage. Covered with dirt and riddled with age, this singular bandage was what she had taken from Kendo's first aid kit six years ago.

She remembers how your skin felt beneath her as she wrapped the bandage around you; she remembers how she slyly slipped the garment into her pocket when Carlos was caught up in tending to your broken arm. Jill presses the bandage to her cheek, pretending it's your comforting hand against her face instead of some tattered piece of gauze. If only she had known what the future had in store for her that night, she would have never let you step foot onto that train. Hell, she would have never let you step foot out of her sight ever again. Until the end of time, however, Jill will continue to search the world over and over again to find you. You are the only thing keeping her alive, after all.

The quick tune of an email alert brings Jill out of her lovesick, grief-burdened daze. She discards the precious cargo in her hands back to its home beneath her bed, then returns to her desk. In the three hours Jill had been knocked out cold, Tyrell had managed to bypass the security system that was "a bitch to get through" (his exact words). In the email, he provided several files that contain security system footage from cameras scattered around the area. Feverishly, Jill double-clicks the links and analyzes the pixelated footage. She knows what she is looking for, and despite the voice of logic on her shoulder whispering of what a waste of time this was, she still persevered.

A hallway filled with bustling doctors, a garden filled with meditating patients, and a cafeteria swarming with warm food and activity. Lastly, the final file shows a library. Unlike the others, the peaceful environment was scattered with little activity. The only form of life in the room was a few faces around who had their noses buried in books. A figure then ventures around the corner of a bookshelf, a stack of books held tight to their chest. Through the mess of pixels, a familiar face comes clear into frame.

You.

Something bright fills her chest. Hope, relief, elation. It bubbles in Jill's heart and paralyzes her entire body. The only thing she can do is stare at the screen with her jaw on the floor. You are her butterfly, beautiful and fleeting. She's been nothing but a worm trying to squirm its way through the soil and into the sky. Now, however, she can finally hold your hand in hers; she can finally fly with you at her side. Her teeth chatter behind her smile as she leans closer to the laptop, watching intensely. You merely bring the collage of books to a lone couch and flip open the page of a new book. Little do you know the sheer effect such a mild action would do to the woman you presumed to be dead. Her thumbs grasp the corners of the monitor, caressing the surface as if it were your skin beneath her.

"I found you... I found you...!" Tears seep from her eyes uncontrollably. Finally, this void within her is filled.

Pure laughter, a sound she hasn't expressed in years, bounces from her tongue with glee. It's as if a symphony of angels had invaded Jill's apartment, pervading the lonely silence with euphonious melodies. They sing and cheer for her success, promises of a new beginning filled with light and laughter tumbling from their lips. It appears as any other CCTV footage you'd see, but to Jill, she has never seen anything so breathtaking, so magnificent. Jill rewinds the footage for what may be the umpteenth time, just to ensure this wasn't another dream she'd inevitably wake up from. Fortunately, it is the truth. And she can't refrain the pure joy from escaping her body.

Despite her heart pulling at her strings in an attempt to give in to her desires, Jill knows she must learn more before she can finally get you back. As desperately as she wants to storm the place, guns-a-blazing and all, being messy with her efforts may send her back to square one. Alone, without the one she loves most. The thought itself sends a cold shudder down her spine. She pours herself another cup of coffee. This will be the last one, she guarantees. From thereon, Jill begins her research into this lion's den. Located directly in the middle of the woods, this mysterious habitat began its organization exactly six years ago. Mere months after the incident in Racoon City, to be precise. With a few more hours of digging, the truth practically slaps Jill across the face.

This "sanctuary" is just a facade for Umbrella.

Even after all these years, that damned corporation still has its bloodied claws sunk into every fraction of Jill's life. They had been keeping survivors of their personalized epidemic safe in this establishment, under the guise of 'healing them through these tough times.' In reality, it was to ensure they kept their mouths shut and Umbrella's mistake could be safely swept under the rug. Seething with rage, Jill asks herself: why not me? Why am I the only exception? The last thing she could ever want is to be held captive by Umbrella of all people, but to be locked up with you? That's a different story.

It doesn't take long for Jill to connect the dots. Her occupation gave her that extra layer of protection against Umbrella. So, she remains untouched. However, with your job as a cashier at a gas station, you weren't as fortunate as Jill. Otherwise, you and she would have spent every day of these past six years at each other's side in euphoric harmony. Jill is sure of it.

The sun begins to set after a long, exasperated day of breaking the immeasurable walls Umbrella had built to protect their precious organization. Jill, heavy-eyed and exhausted, has finally concluded the great mystery that is your disappearance. She takes every penny of her rent money and urgently gives it all to Tyrell in exchange for more security footage. When asked about her desperate efforts, Jill makes the excuse that it is the location of a potential crime scene. And in a way, she isn't wrong. It is about to be.

With footage from every camera of the past month (as well as some good spank bank material for later on), Jill has a firm layout of every nook and cranny within the building. She fawns over the videos of you meditating in the garden and reading the hours away in the library. She also tenses up with jealousy over the clips of you laughing with your friends in the cafeteria and bonding over shared experiences in group therapy. It should be her you're doing all these things with. With a pout, Jill then plans her route on retrieving you. Although she has enough anger within her to tear the entire premise asunder, she is humble enough to recognize the extensive security is out of her element. After hours upon hours of trying to find the best way to carry out her plan, Jill accepts defeat.

As much as she wants to, she cannot do this alone. So, she contacts an old friend.

A simple email that reads "I found them" and Carlos Oliveira is at the door of her apartment within hours. His face sheen with sweat, hands trembling at his side, eyes blown wide in crazed worry. God, it's almost like he ran the entire way here. It isn't until Jill sees his face does the all-too-overwhelming revelation settle. It's time to finally get you back.

Deep in the middle of the woods, Jill and Carlos have nothing but the brimming sunset and heavy-duty flashlights to illuminate their path. A maze of trees and tight security kept the establishment well hidden from any wandering eyes. With swift movements from the two military-trained individuals, they were able to pass all barricades with ease. Out of sight from any cameras and wandering security guards, Jill and Carlos soon make it to a single window that has been left slightly ajar. It was your attempt at enjoying the last gusts of seasonal warmth before Winter arrives. A tame smile forms on their faces at the prospect. You'll be able to enjoy every season forevermore with them at your side. Whether it is your skin glowing beneath the warm haze of summer's heat or cozying up with the other during the harsh chills of Winter. They'll make sure everything is perfect. Just for you.

An ear-piercing screech pervades the late October air as Jill pries the window open. They cringe, wait for the other shoe to fall and bring this plan to its fateful end. But, there is nothing. No blaring alarms there to jeopardize their schemes, no wonderful, perfect you there to run into the arms of your surprise guests and drown them in kisses. Nothing. Continuing attentively, the two manage to slip through the window, where they then find themselves in your bathroom.

Jill and Carlos become entranced with the mere sight of your bathroom and the utilities within. Rested by the sink is your toothbrush, sat beside a tube of toothpaste and accompanied by a clutter of skincare products. Jill shakily brings the brush into her hands, fingers hovering over the bristles with belated breath. Your teeth, your tongue, your spit. Your mouth has been on this item and Jill salivates from the idea alone. Before she can quaff out every bit of you she can garner from the toothbrush, she snaps out of her fantasy and shoves the brush into her pocket. For later use, she assures.

Carlos, however, is trapped tight in his own daze. By the shower, a cluster of damp towels had been leisurely swung upon a towel rack. He takes one into his hands, shivering at the idea of this cloth once making contact with your nude body. Squeezing, the water that seeps from the tight contact and down his fingers causes a pool of vehemence to form within him. Lips trembling in response, Carlos then brings the towel to his face. His warm breath wafted back onto his face as he heavily inhaled the scent still lingering upon the fabric. Oh, Y/N, how he worships you. Carlos imagines how your scent would sit in your body while he drags his lips among the skin of your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and then your-

A harsh smack to his arm brings his thoughts to an abrupt, depressing halt. Just when he was about to indulge his tongue in the taste of what was once on your wet body, Jill had to go and ruin his fun.

The dulcet tune of humming diffuses through the area like a soft fragrance. Whatever libido-stained hysteria these lovesick fools had found themselves in faded away as quickly as it came. Jill feels her heart bloom like a spring flower — your voice. One of your most important attributes her deadbeat brain had so frivolously forgotten. It has finally returned to her. And the way you fill the air with such heavenly sounds is something straight out of a fairytale, the two think to themselves. Like a siren, leading the people who love you more than anything to their inevitable demise. And if they're being honest, the sight of you after six years without you may kill them with its sheer force.

In a way, they were correct. Jill takes a step out of the bathroom and into your kitchen, peering around the corner of a wall to find you on a couch. Your back to her, headphones nestled on your head and book held tight in your hands. Nothing could have prepared her for such a heartwarming, yet gut-wrenching sight. Nodding your head to the tunes blasting in your ears, foot tapping in rhythm against the floor. God, how much more beautiful could you get? How much more can you do to Jill and her sanity by simply existing?

With a deep, shaky inhale, Jill continues with the plan at hand. She tiptoes past the threshold of your living room and ventures further into the kitchen. With gentle, yet expeditious movements, she opens every cabinet and searches through for anything of importance. On the very edge by the stove, Jill opens the cabinet door and finds shelves full of jumbled mugs and different tea flavors. Taking a paranoid glance behind her, she finds Carlos peering around the same corner she had stood behind moments before. And the man is just relishing in the pure sight of you. His eyes drooping and coated in a dreamy luster; his mouth hung agape with the corners curling into a weakened smile. She'd say how pathetic he looked if it weren't for the fact she was in his exact state just seconds ago. With a roll of her eyes, Jill returns to her work in your kitchen.

How clueless you are to what is happening just over your shoulder. Who knew that you catching up on some late-afternoon reading could conjure up such staggering emotions within Jill and Carlos? And who knew that the two people you presumed to be dead had crushed up sedatives and hid them in your teabags?

Mere minutes go by as the two reside in your bathroom, waiting for you to unintentionally complete the next part of their plan. The creaking sound of a door opening halts their enthusiastic exploration of your bathroom. A voice, one that certainly does not belong to you, pervades the air of your home. Apparently, you and this stranger have some plans to go stargazing? Jill and Carlos give a confused, knowing look to each other. Who the fuck is this? Jill buries her unkempt fingernails into the palm of her hand. Clenching her fists inevitably causes moon-shaped scars to form. They're mine, they're mine, they're mine. Her nails soon break through the skin, to where blood oozes into her hands. It seeps down her wrists and onto the white tiles beneath her boots. The faint drum of your footsteps prevents her from acknowledging how she has left a trace of her behind.

Through the crack of the door, Jill finds you entering the kitchen with a thick blanket draped upon your shoulders. Like clockwork, you tread to the cabinet at the far end of the room and begin to make yourself a cup of tea. For the second time that day, Jill gives a harsh smack to Carlos' arm to stop him from inhaling your towels like a depraved junkie and pay attention. The two now watch in trepidation and enthrallment as you go about your nightly routine. Sitting at your rickety kitchen table, watching the kettle steam upon the stove, strolling down memory lane. How can you be so perfect in such simplistic ways?

You inadvertently shape your future by placing the tea bag into the messily painted mug made for you by one of the younglings who survived Raccoon City. A fond smile grows at the thought of them while you pour out the boiling water. You have absolutely no clue what is in store for you by doing this. And to the people standing in your bathroom, it is so endearing.

Taking a small sip as you walk back to the table, a sudden wave of fatigue crashes over you. Your vision doubles, overlapping every perceivable object in front of you into a blurry, distorted mess. The mug falls from your weak hands. It shatters against the floor and the sound reverberates like a blaring alarm. You hear muffled voices, a sharp ringing, and your own panicked breathing. What the fuck is going on? Once your vision goes black, you can barely feel how your numb body splats against the ground. Your hyperventilated gasps decelerate into tame breaths when oblivion finally welcomes you.

The only thing you can do is lay here and hope that when you wake up, whatever welcomes you isn't anything reminiscent of the nightmare you faced six years ago. You hope so.

There are black holes in your memory. Collapsing in your kitchen to being nestled in the backseat of a car. Trying to piece together this puzzle was nothing short of a pipe dream. When you wake, however, you find yourself enveloped in a strange sense of warmth. The senses in your body awaken from your head and travel down to your toes. Almost as if it was rain cascading down a window; as if it was a teardrop coursing down your cheek. From your waist down, you can feel how your nude body is submerged in warm water. You inhale and are overwhelmed by the stench of body soap that perfumes the humid air. Candle lights flicker in their calm hues and bounce against your closed eyelids.

In an attempt to thrash around and escape whatever has taken you from the safety of the sanctuary, your body fails you in your attempts to move. You are completely and utterly paralyzed, much to your dismay. The only control you can accumulate is nothing but a choked whimper that you push out of your throat. The immediate cooing that purrs into your ear from someone behind you causes your blood to run cold. You then sense how your back is pressed against someone's naked chest. The strands of their choppy short hair stick to your sweaty face. Hot breath fans against you as they press long, gentle kisses to your neck.

A bathtub. That's where you have found yourself in. It is romantic, in a disturbing sense. You could almost be convinced this was nothing more than a fulfilling Valentine's Day. A pair of scrawny arms then tighten themselves around your form with possessive constriction. Their chapped lips trail down to your shoulder; their wet tongue adorns the expanse in an array of affection. The intimacy sends a shudder down your skin. Calloused hands grope your chest and indulge themselves in the feeling of your flesh touching theirs, seemingly drunk off of you. The graze of their jagged teeth against you causes a gasp to escape you. A hum of quiet laughter vibrates in the chest of your assailant in response.

"My butterfly, you have no idea how long I have dreamed about this..." The soft tone of their voice lulls you back to sleep. This is getting old, you think once more before unconsciousness envelops you once again.

Jill simply cannot believe it. At this moment, you are here, alone with her. She couldn't imagine a better fantasy if she tried. And in a way, the effect your mere touch has on her made all six years of suffering worth it. Only now, she can scrutinize you completely and thoroughly. As opposed to the zombie-induced nightmare being the only contact she had with you. And your physicality has haunted Jill. She traces the jut of your cheekbone, the curl of your lashes, the texture of your lips. More importantly, she indulges her greedy taste buds in the taste of your mouth-watering skin, your delicious sweat, and your candy-sweet saliva.

Your flavor — never has Jill known she could be transported to such paradisiacal heaven. And never has Jill known she could ever be so... vulnerable.

Vulnerability has always equated to weakness in the eyes of Jill for as long as she's been alive. Trying to swallow the lump in her throat and constrict the overflow of bottled emotions these past six years are certainly no strangers to her. Raccoon City, however, opened the floodgates to a tsunami of revelations. To bask in emotion, to revel in you. Most importantly, to feel you here with her right at this moment. She can discard the facade of a cold heart and thick skin, to where she can embrace the exhilaration that follows with your presence. There will never be a second where Jill isn't thanking the universe profusely for such a wondrous gift.

As much as she disdains the idea of breaking contact with you, the hour spent in such stifling heat would not be good for you. And the prospect of your deteriorating health causes her to persevere through her selfish desires. This doesn't refrain her from being a little too touchy while drying off your body, though. Jill then dresses your unconscious form in a fresh, newly bought pair of fuzzy pajamas (despite the incessant suggestions from Carlos to please have you wear his clothes). The sensation feels like a cloud against your skin that had just been massaged with warm water, loving hands, and ambrosial lotions. So cozy, so cuddly.

With easy effort, Jill nestles you into bed. The late-night brume and heavy rain complement the tranquility within the room, naturally soothing you into a deeper sleep. She then presses a long, sweet kiss to your forehead, whispering a promise of returning soon.

Her gaze and her hand linger on you before returning to the bathroom. While you are now sleeping, Jill sits on the tiled floor of the bathroom and rests her arms against the rim of the tub. Her fingers cascade among the still-wet walls of the tub, shivering over the prospect of your naked self touching the surface just moments before. She takes her index and middle finger into her mouth, lapping her tongue around the digits and cleaning them of any excess of you still left on them. The other hand is used to caress the parts of the bathtub you had sat in before as if she were touching you. And it is just heavenly. Having you beneath her, her tongue tasting every inch of you, all the sounds you would gift her in return. It practically makes her feral with desire.

Shakily sinking her hands into the lukewarm water, it pools in her hands before escaping through the slits of her fingers. Mouth agape, skin gleaming with sweat — the only thing present in Jill's mind is how your flavor has mended with the bathwater. With rapid movements, she scoops some of the water into her palm and slurps the liquid with fervent haste. Six years of her lust-ridden head overcome with these fantasies, Jill has finally come one step closer to turning this dream into a reality. Her eyes fall shut and she lets the reverie flood her body. Wrapping her lips around your sex and adorning it in a mess of her saliva and your essence; every whimper and moan that escapes your mouth making her slick with arousal. After turning your brain into mush, she would then wrap you in her embrace and soothe you to sleep, still preserving the taste of you on her tongue.

Oh, one day. One day...

Birds singing, rain dancing. Once again, it is the first thing you are able to scrutinize once you come out of your state of comatose. The sun has now risen, hidden beneath an array of stormy clouds. Daylight bleeds into the room you have awoken in. A bedroom, as it appears; you are in a bedroom you are oblivious to the location of. With its pristine environment, expensive comforters, healthy plants, and modern decoration scattered around, you can't help but be astonished at how gorgeous it is. A window takes up the entirety of two walls, displaying nothing but miles upon miles of endless forestry. You would assume this was a gorgeous retreat if not for the confusion staining your mind. Have I been kidnapped? The thought bounces back and forth in your brain like a ping-pong ball.

Your original idea of being held captive consists of a dank basement, restraints around your limbs, and a lone mattress on the dirty ground. If you had been kidnapped, it would be nothing as luxurious as this, surely. Had the sanctuary brought you to a new location? Had your friends taken you on some sort of a surprise vacation? What the fuck is going on here!? Trying to venture down memory lane to find out how on Earth you have ended up here, your efforts are unfortunately brought to no avail. All you had done was drink some tea and somehow in the span of twelve hours, it had led you here. The only thing you can do now, however, is find some answers.

Wobbling like a newborn fawn on legs, you try and catch your balance after you attempt to stand. A door stands to the right of you, which you stumble to. Using every fiber of strength in your exhausted body, you try and turn the doorknob. The wall is there to catch you when your body then gives up on you. With a few deep breaths upon collapsing, you fight to regain consciousness and continue to tread forward. You would not let yourself pass out again, you're determined of such.

Upon opening the door, a hallway presents itself to you. The scent of something cooking pervades the air. You only realize you had skipped dinner the previous night when the aroma of natural spices and flavors makes your mouth water. You hear the clanking of pots and pans, as well as the murmur of two strangely-familiar voices. The decorations in the hallway also grasp your attention as you stroll through, tip-toeing past any squeaky floorboards. Numerous other plants sit around the area and picture frames are placed neatly on the walls. The frames are all empty, ready to be filled. It causes a strange chill to course through your body. However, the only thing you should be concerned with right now is receiving some answers. As worrying as it is, the prospect of your kidnapper potentially filling these frames with new pictures of you is irrelevant right now.

Treading forward, you then find yourself on the threshold of the kitchen. And what you find within makes your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.

You catch sight of no other than Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira. At the breakfast bar is Jill, whose legs are crossed and resting upon the surface of the counter. Carlos stands by the stove, stirring something delicious in the pan before him. The conversation between them is cut short upon your entrance and the three of you all stare at each other like a group of deer in headlights. Silence sits like a thick stew.

You're the first to break through the quiet.

"What the fuck?"

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ RECURRING VISIONS

OF SUCH SWEET DAYS . . . ❞

for anyone wondering, this, this, this, this, and this are what i imagined jill and carlos' house to look like. also, i will delve into characters and whatnot in further chapters. so dw!! and thank u!

2K notes · View notes

mxtantrights · 3 months

Text

where you go, I go

a/n: okay so while I'm writing this whole series for azriel just know that I had this other recurring dream about a plot like this. I couldn't really make it a fully fleshed out story with a happy ending so I decided to type it all out and make it a one-shot with angst and not a lot of comfort (this is your warning, this doesn't end happily) anyways with all of that said, if you decide to read this please enjoy and tell me what you think! <333 also happy valentines day <333

azriel x assassin!fem!reader

5.1k words

The day court was home to many things. Vibrant colors, warm waters, ancient books and of course the very ancient and magical day blade. It's your job to know where that this is at all times.

You can't possibly understand why the shadow singer would try to steal it. Try being the operative word here. While you did sense him enter your court and break into the room where the blade was, it wouldn't have mattered.

Seeing as it is your job to protect the blade at all costs, it never leaves your sight. But that didn't mean you couldn't have fun with those who wanted so badly to get it.

In your pocket you feel a piece of paper appearing suddenly. You reach inside and unfold it. It's Helion. He's requesting your presence. You smile to yourself, this would be fun.

You leave your hiding place, the palace had many hidden rooms and hallways, and walk over to Helion's day room. As you approach from the hallway you can hear multiple conversations being had.

The door is closed so you open it slightly.

"There she is! Come in and greet my guests!" he says happily.

You make sure you face is kept neutral. You had an image to upkeep in this court.

The people respect you and fear you in the same breath. You don't go around killing people but you do often get justice in ways that aren't in the parameters of the law. Whether that be stringing up robbers and looters from their pants, or burning down the houses of dirty criminals.

You keep your eyes straight, not looking any of his guests in the eye. You walk until you are standing behind Helion who sits in his usual seat.

"I was just telling Feyre that I enjoy the new company. This is the inner circle." he says to you.

You nod once.

"She doesn't talk?" Nesta asks.

You know all of them. It's your duty to know The Who's who of the courts. The inner circle of the night court. High Lord Rhysand and High Lady Feyre-Curse breaker. Her sisters Elaine and Nesta. Rhysand's brothers Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan, past fiancee of Eris Vanserra. Amren, a mythical creature of serious power.

Helion laughs at Nesta's question. He knows you talk. He knows you very well, seeing as he practically raised you. But that information isn't public knowledge.

"She does, but not when theres something wrong." Helion answers.

You look at all of them now. How the girl closest to the shadow singer, Elaine, looks worried. And it's quick, you almost don't catch it, but you're so good at your job at this point.

"Trouble in the day court?" Rhysand says.

You lean over and whisper into Helion's ear about the blade. How the shadow singer came here to steal it, on a mission from his high lord. How he thinks he got away with it.

The room goes quiet as you pull back and Helion sits back in his chair. He loves the dramatics you pull off every single time someone tries to take the blade. The last person you caught was really delighted to be drowned in glitter, confetti and manure.

"Is there something you're forgetting?" Helion asks.

Rhysand looks at his inner circle with an incredulous smile. Then he looks to you, no doubt trying to read your mind. You can't imagine this will go over well either.

You can't feel it. The daemati powers that certain fae have don't work on you. You're not really sure why. Might have something to do with your unknown lineage. Or your overall hardheadedness-so Helion says.

Rhysand cocks his head to the side at your unmoving posture. He's still looking at you. You however are taking in the shadow singer. He's sitting there, not bothering to look at anyone. He must really think he got the blade.

"What would that be?" Feyre asks this time.

"Well, when you want something that another has you usually ask." Helion says.

At that everyone at the table grows grim. Caught red handed is what it seems like. You still manage to hide you smile though.

"Helion..." Rhysand starts.

"If you were anyone else I would have you locked up already. But lucky for me my security system is top notch." Helion smiles and grabs his glass for another sip of what could only be wine.

At his words the shadow singer now looks at the high lord. Your high lord. His face bares no emotion, like he can't afford to give a way a secret or smile.

You've heard about his reputation. But at this point that's all it is. He couldn't even steal from you correctly. This has to be the most interesting thing that's happened this year. You don't get around to much outsider business, you tend to stay out of it.

"I don't think it is." the shadow singer says.

Helion stifles a laugh. But you can hear it. And you know if you can hear it they all can. The room is big but not big enough that guests at a table can't hear things.

"Care to relieve them of their misery?" he looks up to you and asks.

You didn't really want to. But then again you'd have to play nice with them. Helion seems to like this group. Or most likely, his son is friends with this group and he wants to be friends with his son.

You sigh, "Take out the blade."

You watch in amusement as everyone at the table looks at each other. As if they all don't know what they really came here for. The shadow singer though, he's different. He's looking right at you.

His shadows materialize the blade right on the table for everyone to see. Cassian, gives him a look. But Azriel doesn't seem to see it or care.

"That's not the blade." Helion quips.

You call the blade to you with your powers. Being gifted with the ability to control sun made objects is fun most of the time. Most living things are sun made in a sense. So really you could control all things, to a certain extent.

The blade comes flying into your hand. As soon as it makes contact with your skin it transforms. The metal of the blade turns into a vibrant green stem. And the helm turns into the face of a sunflower.

Azriel seems to go through a range of emotions. First confusion. Then understanding. And then the last one, well you can't actually pin down the last one. You've gotten good at reading people but he's harder than others.

"The blade is safe in the day court, where it will remain until you ask for it." Helion says.

Rhysand lets of a breath, "I am sorry about lying, but we're short on time."

"And I thought our alliance was stronger than that. I am sorry too." Helion replies.

Helion stands from his seat, causing the others to match his actions. The sound of chairs on marble floors reaches your ears. You take a step back and cross your hands behind your back.

"We need the blade for a mission." Feyre speaks.

"It could be a simple mission or the end of the world. The fact that you have no respect to ask me tells me everything I need to know." Helion says casually.

You know that he is hurt by their lying. It's not deep, but it's there. He thought he could trust them. He thought because they had good relations with him before that they were better than the actions they are displaying right now.

Of course you know of the good bond between them. Which is why you don't understand why they didn't just ask. Unless there is a well justified reason. Why not ask the high lord for the blade unless he was implicated somehow.

How could Helion be implicated in a mission from the night court. He doesn't know anything, or he would have offered them the blade himself. No this is something he's not at the center of. But it still concerns him.

Lucien. You look at the guests around the room. He is no where to be found. True he's not part of the inner circle. He's an emissary. But if it was something the inner circle could simply ask Helion for, why not butter him up with his son?

Lucien may or may not know what going on.

"Where's Lucien?" you ask.

At you question all of the heads move to you. Right, you hadn't spoken to them this whole time. Well you weren't going to give them a smile and greet them kindly.

"What business do you have with him?" Nesta asks.

"He's in Spring. Managing relations." Rhysand answers.

You nod your head. Spring. If that answer can even be trusted. Let's say you do trust it for the moment.

The inner circle needs the day blade. They didn't want to ask for it. They didn't let Lucien come.

"Were you planning on returning it?" you ask again.

Nesta, rolls her eyes at your question. You can't help the giddiness you feel of getting under her skin. You hardly did anything to warrant it. But it felt kind of good.

"As soon as we were done." Azriel answers this time.

You don't ignore the stress he puts not he word soon. You also don't ignore the way his eyes seem to never leave yours.

"That blade is our most powerful weapon. We don't just give it out to anyone." Helion chimes in.

He maneuvers around his chair and stands behind you. When he grips both of your shoulders with his hands, you can tell he's smiling even if you can't see him.

"But I will let you use it," Helion continues, "on one condition."

"Go ahead." Rhysand says.

"Wherever the blade goes, she goes." Helion says.

"That won't be necessary." Nesta says.

At the same time Cassian says, "That's odd."

Helion shrugs his shoulders and lets go of you. He leans into your ear to whisper his next words very carefully. When you understand him and what he wants, you nod your head only once.

He grabs the sunflower from your hands as you uncross them from behind you. Helion stands next to you now. You watch as Helion brings the flower up to his nose and gives it a sniff.

"We agree to those terms." Azriel speaks up.

"Woah hold on-" Rhysand tries to cut in.

"Great. I think this will be beneficial to both courts." your high lord agrees.

You turn to face him now, your back towards the guests. Helion was looking at you with a very faint smile. You heard every word he whispered to you. And you understand the reason why: Family.

What you don't get it is why he won't just speak to Lucien himself. Why play nice with a high lord that knows his son when he can just reach out to him? Invite him to the day court or send him a letter.

Everyone in this room knows Lucien is Helion's son, except Lucien. And now your mission is to tell him so that he might finally have a true place to call home.

Helion wouldn't so easily agree to lending out the blade like this if it weren't for Lucien. And the night court wouldn't try to steal it if Lucien did know, because he could just ask on their behalf.

Your shoulders sag at the thought. You had no interactions with Lucien. You only ever heard of him from Helion and he only started referring to him as his son a couple of months ago.

It'll be you. You'll be the one to see him, come eye to eye to him, and tell him the truth.

You can see it in his eyes. The sadness. You'd do anything for him. He's a father figure to you. And you'll see this through, for his sake and Lucien's too.

"Promise me you'll smile a little bit during your trip." Helion says.

"The Sun Wraith doesn't smile." you answer.

"You're the Sun Wraith?" Cassian's voice asks.

You turn around and face the general. It's all over his face. The look of shock. It wasn't hard to become something of a legend in this court and the ones surrounding it.

"Even people in the night court are scared of you." Nesta says.

On her face seems to be another emotion. Not fear. Not shock. Something lighter amongst the surface. Admiration maybe? You aren't too sure.

"I'll grab my things." you say to no one in particular.

"And the blade." Azriel's voice sounds.

"I never go anywhere without it." you say, reaching behind you.

Grabbing the flaps of your yellow vest you flip it over and your hand wraps around the hilt of the blade. You pull it out for all of them to see.

"Best security in all of the courts." Helion jokes.

THREE WEEKS LATER

The mission has barely begun and you hate it here. You hate it in the night court. The days are shorter and you feel pale without even looking into a mirror most days. Nothing beats the sun of the day court on your skin.

Amren had told you it would get better. After your first meeting she had taken a liking to you. You were told by several members in the inner court that it was no easy feat. She talked to you the most out of everyone.

Second to her, came Nesta who was just curious about the things you allegedly did or did not do. You held off on telling her anything too juicy. It was funny toying with her with the details. She also likes your fighting style. Morrigan too.

Azriel talks to you. Sometimes. He's friendly to a point. Cassian is more friendlier than him but you're starting to understand it's just in his nature. Feyre and Rhysand are cordial. Elaine is, well you've been told that she's nice but you haven't really seen it. She greets you but that's it.

The inner circle didn't get on your nerves. But you also had your own mission. Deliver the news to Lucien that Beron isn't his father, Helion is.

Which is why though this whirlwind of a mission you're laying down on path of grass outside of the House of Wind. Weird. What was even weirder was the fact that Velaris, a secret city inside of the night court, has existed for so long with no one none the wiser.

You squeeze your eyes shut. Trying to turn your brain off. It wasn't working. The sun wasn't the same, it does't feel the same. You can't call off this mission either.

"Is this what you do in the day court?"

You'd know that voice anywhere. Which is weird to say as you've known the male for a couple of weeks now. But it's true. Azriel's voice was distinguishable from others. A bit low, but still soft. Clear.

"Yes." you answer.

"Is that all the explanation you can give me?"

"Yes."

You think he'll go away. He plays nice because you have the blade. He needs the blade, which means he needs you. Once he no loner needs the blade he won't need you.

When you hear the sound of him getting closer you want so badly to open your eyes. But you don't. You keep them closed. As much as you want to open them and see what he's doing.

The sound of him laying down beside you on the grass is one you weren't expecting. Also the feeling of soft cold tendrils nipping at your arm.

"It feels...nice. A bit cold." he speaks.

Of course he'd complain about he cold. Nesta had told you that Illyrians were whiny babies. You'd seen it personally when Cassian couldn't get a certain dish because there were no more potatoes for the day.

And now here his brother is. Complaining.

You hold up your left hand, the one close to him.

"Give me your hand." you command.

You half expect him to decline. To maybe even get up and leave. Or maybe say that he doesn't mind the cold. The other half of you expects him to just listen you-to see where it goes.

He takes your hand. You focus on letting the additional warmth you normally feel from the sun flow from your hand and into his.

Out of all the things you half expect and do expect, his laugh is something you don't plan for. It's deep. It comes from his core. It's gentle too. Which you wouldn't get just from looking at him.

"It's warm." he says.

"That's how the sun feels in the day court." you answer.

"I think you just spoke more than three words to me."

You scoff, "Don't get used to it."

"That was four words."

"Shut up."

"Two. We're regressing."

"Azriel."

"I'll be quiet now."

This is how you spend your time. If you are not training with Morrigan, Amren and Nesta. Or not eating with Cassian in the kitchen. You are laying out on the grass with Azriel in the sun.

It happens more times than you care to admit as the mission goes on.

ONE MONTH LATER

This place, Velaris, was starting to grow on you. You didn't want to admit that out loud, or in your letters to Helion. Or how well you were gettign on with Azriel. The trips into the city, the lingering glances and words with hidden layers.

You letters should only have on subject, Lucien.

He has been back from the spring court for two weeks now. You've taken that time to get to know him. You couldn't fathom unleashing the truth on him as a stranger. You don't need to be his friend. But he needs to at least trust the words coming out of your mouth when you say them.

Family dinner they called it. Even though only three of them were related to each other. But you guess that what makes their family unique. They choose each other, every day.

This meal was special. Seeing as you had finished the mission that Helion sent you on to protect the blade. There was a fae that needed to be tracked down and would only come out of hiding if he could see the sun blade.

Of course you didn't let him, but you did convince him that the fake blade you passed onto him was the real thing. When he found it wasn't after he revealed his intentions with it he got angry.

Angry enough to rain hellfire down on both you and Azriel. If it weren't for your fast thinking and powers you both wouldn't have made it out in one piece.

Now you're sat with the inner circle to celebrate your feat.

Someone clears their throat. This drags your gaze from the redheaded male to the dark haired one. The both of them were sitting in front of you.

How the mother is cruel and precious at the same time. One male is your mission which you planned for. The other male you didn't plan for, and yet...

"Az was asking if you miss home." Morrigan says from your side.

"Dearly. But its not bad here." You speak, not quite realizing what you just did.

You watch as Azriel's smile grows and grows on is lips. It hits you then.

"Wipe that smile off your face before I take it back." you say to him.

"No I don't think I will." he jokes.

You shake your head with a light laugh. You can pick up on his laugh too from across the table.

"Well if it means anything, you fit in well here." Amren speaks up.

Everyone at the table quiets down at that. You look over at her, peering around Morrigan. You nod once at the sentiment.

"You need to tell him." Elaine says suddenly.

You look to her sharply. She's gotten better about speaking to you. More than a greeting but still less than a conversation. It does weird you out some times but you let it go for the most part.

"Oh?" you ask rhetorically.

"Elaine I don't think we should discuss this here." Feyre starts.

"He needs to know." Elaine says again.

It upsets you. She is his mate. She is the one connected to him. She has known this secret longer than you. But you'll be the one to tell him? She doesn't want to get her hands dirty. None of them do.

"What do I need to know?" Lucien asks all of a sudden.

You look to him. Hoping nothin is being given away by your face. When no one answers him he scoffs lightly to himself and looks around at the table.

This is happening now.

"It's obviously about me, none of you can look me in the eye except for her." Lucien continues.

"I can tell you, in private." you offer.

He nods his head and gets up from his seat. You follow his lead and get up too. The two of you walk out of the dining room and onto the balcony. You pull the door close behind you.

"Before you say anything, do they all know about this?" he asks.

He can't be asking about Elaine. She's the whole reason you're having this conversation right now. No, he's talking about Feyre. His friend. Or who he thought was his friend.

What can be left of a friendship after a lie like this?

"Yes." you answer simply.

Lucien shakes his head, "Okay, you can tell me now."

You take him in. The tense shoulders. The bowed head. His hair is perfectly combed behind his back. In this light, he looks like Helion. Not too much, but just enough.

How do you up end someone's life?

"Lucien do you ever think about what it felt like growing up with Beron as your father?" you ask.

Lucien looks at you sharply, "It was unspeakable. I wouldn't wish that life on anyone."

"And it shouldn't have been yours either." you reply.

His brows furrow. Right in the middle like they want to meet so badly. You wonder if he's felt like an outsider before. If he's ever felt it amongst his brothers. The black sheep.

"When my mission is over here, do you think you could come back with me to the day court?" you ask softly.

His face goes from confusion to somewhat understanding. But you haven't told him enough for him to completely get what you're saying, what you're asking of him.

"A couple of times Eris tried to make me visit the day court." Lucien admits.

You nod your head at that. Of course. Ever the perfect actor. You knew him for a little slice of time in your life. A period in which you won't ever forget. He was your first kiss. You were young and kids, trying to figure out your own way in life.

Kissing Eris, the treacherous fox of the autumn court, was every bit exciting at your age. You gossiped, and word got around. But he didn't deny it. For all the lies and manipulation he pulled you thought he might say you were delusional, that you had made it all up. But he backed you claim.

Eris knew Lucien wasn't Beron's son. Eris probably protected him as best he could. In his own, Eris way. Whatever that means.

"You can invite him too." you say.

Lucien looks past you. No doubt at the inner circle lingering inside. If you were in his position you wouldn't even go back in there. You'd never talk to any of them again.

"I'll take my leave now, but thank you. For being honest." he says.

You give him a small smile, "To be clear I was to tell you the news in a gentle manner. What just happened was out of my hands."

"I get it. I'll see you around." he says.

You bid him goodbye. Then he's walking past you. You hear the door open and how voices inside seem to call his name. You don't hear him respond to any of them. You hear the front door slam.

With a breath you turn around and head back inside too. When you do everyone is looking right at you. It unnerves you. You hate it.

"I've done your dirty work now. I think I'll call it a night." you speak.

"He didn't deserve to find out like that." Feyre says.

"You're right, he deserved honesty from his friends." you retort.

"You were sent here to tell him the truth. Am I wrong?" Rhysand asks.

You turn to face him clearly. You can't believe he just said that. You cannot believe he formed the words with his mouth to say that to you.

Without saying another word you walk right out of the dinning room. You ignore Nesta and Amren calling out to you. And you ignore the shadow that walks with you right out of the room and into he hallway.

As soon as you get inside of your guest room the shadow disappears.

SUNRISE, THE NEXT DAY

You're skip training and packing for home instead. You wish you could pack faster but that isn’t possible. You don’t want to be here for another second. Not in this court, not among the inner circle.

When you throw in your last few shirts into the luggage a knock raps on the door. You don’t know who it is, but if it is Rhysand or Elaine you won’t open the door.

“Who is it?” You ask.

“It's me, can you open up?”

You go over to the door and open it. Standing there on the threshold is Azriel.

“I’ll be leaving soon.” You say.

His eyes seem to widen at that. You watch as he peers over you and takes in the bareness of the room, and the packed luggage. He straightens himself out.

“Why so soon? It feels like you just got here.” He replies.

Based on his words alone he doesn’t want you to leave. You can feel it too. How it’s only been a month or so but the two of you are comfortable around each other.

You sigh, “The mission is over.”

“And we’re back to this? Four word sentences?” He asks.

“Azriel.”

He looks down both sides of the hallway. His head turning left then right. Then he’s turning back to you. He looks nervous. Antsy. He doesn’t normally look that way. He’s usually so composed.

He takes you by surprise. He side steps into the room and closes the door behind him. At that you know your eyes go wide. He holds up his hands in defense.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry for that but I just—are you mad at me?” He asks.

You scoff, “Yes I am.”

“Okay I knew that, but I was also confused because on that mission you saved my life.”

“Hardly.” You answer simply.

He groans at your one word answer, “You made sure those arrows didn’t plant themselves in my wings. You made sure I was safe.”

“It was nothing.”

“No it was something.”

You’re catching on now to how tense he is. Tense or nervous you can’t tell. His eyes are frantic. His breathing is also uneven. And his shadows are fully out on display now.

You do the one thing you can think of. You reach out for his hand. He doesn’t even seem to notice it. When you make contact he looks you in the eye. “Please calm down.” You whisper.

He bows his head, his hair covering his face now. All of a sudden he sinks to his knees. The action catches you completely off guard.

“I’m sorry.” He says again.

You focus on sending him warmth from your hand. In a second you can see his shoulders begin to shake. From this angle you can’t tell just yet if it’s what you think it is.

So you bring your free hand to the side of his face. You feel it. In the palm of your hand you feel his wet cheek. He’s crying. Azriel the shadow singer is crying, on his knees in front of you.

“I could have died and for the first time in a very long time I felt this deep regret in the bottom of my belly.” He chokes out.

What would he have to regret?

Slowly you drag you hand down his cheek. You place your pointer finger under his chin. Titling his head up, you meet his eyes. From this close you hadn’t realize how many shades of brown they hold.

“Azriel, you’re okay. I promise you you’re okay.” You whisper.

He shuts his eyes, more tears flowing down his face now.

“I don’t think I will be.” He admits.

“Why?” You ask.

He opens his eyes again.

“Because you hate us now, you’ll never come back here.” He answers.

In a sense he was right. Not totally. You didn’t hate the inner circle. You just couldn’t stand what they did last night. How they acted, how none of them would fess up. Even though some of them had known Lucien for a long time.

But you didn’t hate them. You didn’t hate him.

“I don’t hate you.” You reply.

“I could see it on your face last night. And now, you’re leaving so quickly. You want nothing to do with us.” He adds on.

There’s silence between the two of you. The emotions Azriel is feeling right now feel heavy. Way too heavy for someone he’s only spent about two months with.

You had heard many rumors about him. But him being like this, wearing his heart on his sleeve like this? You don’t think you could have ever imagined it.

Remembering that he’s waiting for you to answer, you remember to speak.

“Yes I’m upset and I want to go home. But that doesn’t mean I never want to see you again. Azriel I really enjoyed my time with you.” You speak.

You don’t realize it but your hand is stroking his now.

He gives you a look you can’t figure out, “Why does it feel like that time is over already? Like I’ll never see you again?”

He reaches up and places your hand on his cheek again. You don’t emit the warmth from there but he nuzzles into your hand like you are. His thumb rubs back and forth on the back of your hand there.

“You talk like everything is set in stone. Like there is only one path.” You say.

“I can just, sense it.” He explains barely.

You shake you head, “Azriel I was always going to leave.”

“Not like this. Last night changed everything.” He says, but it comes out more like a whisper.

“Get up.”

He looks at you, a bit of shock. You watch as he follows your command and gets back on his feet. He keeps your hand pressed to his face the whole time. Your other hand falls to your side.

“You can come visit me.” You say.

He’s silent. Silent but he nods his head at your words. You’re not sure if he believes you fully. But it’s enough. He wipes the tears from his face. His wings perk up, off the floor now.

You wrap your arms around his body before you can think against it. Instantly you feel his arms around you. Pulling you closer. He rests his head on top of yours. It feels right. It feels natural. No, it feels like something else too.

It feels the exact same way the sunlight in the day court feels on your skin. Like it is meant to be.

part two here!

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel fic #azriel one shot #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fic #acotar one shot

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nyxiswrites1200 · 6 months

Text

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅, 𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏 𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒅𝒚

GN!Reader x Leon Kennedy

Warnings: NSFT, Minors DNI, Age Gap, Older man, Younger reader, praise kink, fluff and smut, slow burn, oral, penetration, committed relationship

Please be safe irl- this is delulu, older men can be mad creeps, but it's Leon, also this is kinda unedited

----

You had tried over and over to find a good partner, a decent lover, and yet you came up disappointed many times. A cheater, a liar, rude, poor hygiene, nothing in common, and so much more. There was always something wrong.

Nowadays, you don't even bother. Just going about life and working hard at your job. You’d recently been joking about dating an older man. However, they were all just creeps…right?

Then you met Leon Kennedy.

Older!Leon comes into the same coffee shop everyday just to order a hot chocolate or a black coffee. Not to mention the $20 tip he gives every time he sees you.

Older!Leon is always kind to you. He gives you a warm smile and asks how your day is going. His intentions are as pure as his pretty blue eyes.

Older!Leon who grabbed your hand by accident when you handed him his drink. He quickly apologized but you found yourself wishing he wouldn't have pulled away so fast.

Older!Leon who brought you flowers on Valentine's day simply because you mentioned not having anyone to give you anything for today. You insisted he didn't have to do that, but he only smiled and insisted that he wanted to.

Older!Leon who didn't know what to say when you offered to have lunch together. He smiled and accepted because he noticed how embarrassed you were from the way you looked at the floor. You were glad because your face was burning up with embarrassment.

The poor man didn't know what to say when you both stopped outside your door. Your face feeling warm, knowing this was the after effect of multiple unknowing dates.

Older!Leon who titled your head to meet his gaze and kissed you softly. “That what you want, baby?” He teased, now you didn't know what to say.

Older!Leon was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. Always thinking of you and bringing you things.

Older!Leon wants nothing more than to come home from a stressful day and see his pretty baby. The only innocent thing in this fucked up world, at least in his eyes.

Older!Leon who spoils the absolute shit out of you. In more ways than one…

Older!Leon who likes to give you kisses and holds your waist tight. Protecting his pretty thing from all the shitty aspects of the world, only wanting you to have the best.

Older!Leon who likes to hear you get all whiny while you grind on his thigh. He loves finally giving you what you want after teasing you. His age does, in fact, come with experience. You’ve never had such good sex before him. The way he gives oral is nothing like you've ever seen. His tongue works on you until you're gripping his hair tight between your fingers. Moaning for him as you cum into his mouth or onto his face.

Older!Leon who fucks that spot inside of you just right. Making you squirm and writhe beneath him as you cum on his cock. His praise only adds to the way you tighten around him.

“Such a pretty thing…Fuck, I can feel you tighten around my cock, darling. Good, doing such a good job f’me baby…”

Older!Leon who never forgets aftercare. Always taking care of his baby and making sure they're comfortable and cared for.

Maybe all older men aren't as creepy as you thought…

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duckwithablog · 1 year

Text

⋰ ⊹˚. ♡ Alone on Valentines? ⋰ ⊹˚. ♡

I was halfway done before most of this got deleted. I am going to scream cry and convulse on the floor. As it's way to late for me to be awake rn, I'll just do this in two parts, for the sake of my sanity </33

I know for a fact that most of us are probably gonna be spending this Valentine's alone, reading fanfic, and honestly same. But let's imagine for a second that that isn't the case.

The turtles react to you being alone on Valentines Day

GN reader, romantic, crushing/pining, fluff

Raphael

flabbergasted

like that's his initial reaction

i imagine that you guys would just be chilling in the lair, talking, and you slip out that you might be spending valentine's alone

he goes "oh, okay!" before he double takes and says

"wait- really?"

he honestly thought that you would've had a date for valentine's this year

because like... why wouldn't you? you're so attractive, and charming, and lovable, who wouldn't want to date you?

no matter how you feel about being alone (unbothered, sad, etc etc) raph will do everything he can to make you feel better

you don't deserve to be alone! no one does!

so he proudly states that "if you don't have anyone to spend the day with, then raph'll spend it with you! there! now you won't be alone anymore."

he says this all with this big smile

doesn't realize that he basically just asked to be your date

you realize it tho

ofc, you say yes, because who can say no to raph?

and raph just nods to himself, proud, before he processes what he just said

oh. he just scored a date with you.

jaw drops at this realization. OH. HE JUST SCORED A DATE. WITH YOU.

BY ACCIDENT??

vows to make this the best valentine's you'll ever experience

it might be hard, being a giant turtle and all, but by pizza supreme is he gonna try his best anyways

Donatello

bro you didn't even tell him this information

he literally eavesdropped on your conversation with april while he was nearby

pretends to be really engrossed in whatever he was doing while he strains to listen to what you guys are saying

is also confused when he finds out. according to his statistics, you have plenty of qualities that make you attractive. so why are you spending valentine's alone?

forgets that the data he used to make said statistics are based off of his experiences with you. He then considers that maybe not everybody got butterflies in their stomach whenever you were around

BRO HAD TO REMIND HIMSELF THAT NOT EVERYONE HAD A CRUSH ON YOU LMAO

when april leaves the room, he internally goes aha! an opportunity! and tries to make a move

he acts cool as he talks to you, but don't be fooled, he is internally combusting

not so subtly suggests that you should spend valentine's in the lair with him instead of being alone. tells you that not all love is romantic, and as... friends... you guys have a right to celebrate today as well

damn he is not making this easier on himself

of course, his brothers and april are gonna be there too!! obviously!!

you get to spend time with all of them.

... mostly with donnie, though. especially with donnie.

if you agree, he'd say "perfect! shall we call it a date, then?"

say yes. the look on his face and the growing blush on his cheeks is so worth it

#duckiswriting #rottmnt x reader #rise raph x reader #rise donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #donatello x reader #raphael x reader #rise mikey x reader #rise leo x reader #leonardo x reader #michelangelo x reader #gn reader #valentines day #tmnt 2018 x reader

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juyeonszn · 3 months

Text

I WANNA TIE THE KNOT

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.70k

GENRES fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, it escalates pretty fast ngl, fingering but there’s honestly no real foreplay, u tie hyunjae up with ribbon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap besties), cowgirl position, marking lowkey, scratching, hyunjae is a master at pillowtalk, creampie :P

SUMMARY that coquette bow trend on the internet really isn’t for the faint of heart. at least, that’s what you think when you decide to do it with hyunjae.

MORE 😂😂😂🔫 anyway. i actually wrote this in one sitting. in one night. bc i was insatiable for the coquette trend after a Very Passionate discussion with @kimsohn and @zzoguri <3 delusional sapphics 1, 2, and 3 back at it AGAIN! if u noticed, all 3 of us wrote something involving these godforsaken bows. this fic was a long time coming seeing as i wrote it a month ago but i remembered it was valentine’s day so,,,, here u go! pls dont forget to reblog if u enjoyed <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

“Can we try this?”

Hyunjae raises an eyebrow at you when you shove your phone in his face, scooting up higher from where you were laying on his lap. He watches the video with mild amusement.

“You want to tie a bow around my bicep?” He asks you, as if your request was so far-fetched and out of the ordinary. He had nice arms, he’d look cute with a ribbon wrapped around it. The whole coquette vibe matched well with his pretty face.

“Yeah, why not? It’s a cute trend. And at least I’m not suggesting the one where I tie your mouth shut,” you rest your cheek on his chest, blinking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Please, Jae? For me?”

It’s a little comical when you physically see the war waging in his head. He wants to decline, thinks the idea of you putting one of your ribbons around his fucking bicep is kind of stupid, but he could never say no to those eyes. Lee Hyunjae was a weak, weak man.

So he agrees.

Next thing he knows, you’re filming him flexing with the cute little bow on his arm to post on your social media. He should feel silly, standing still so you can record the perfect shot, but he doesn’t. You look so cute with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth, he feels his mind straying from the original plan.

He wraps his arms around your waist when you go to edit the video, preparing to post it publicly. You squirm as his lips make contact with the sensitive spot below your ear, kissing tenderly and sweetly. “Jaehyun….”

Your warning tone does not dispel his efforts to distract you, the tips of his fingers dipping below the waistband of your sleep shorts. The pads drag along your hip bones while his mouth travels lower on your neck, nipping at the soft skin visible beneath your top. “Yes, my love?”

“Don’t fucking ‘my love’ me right now,” you whine, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to the surface. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?” Hyunjae teases, thumb applying the slightest amount of pressure on your clothed clit. “Are you gonna let me fuck you with these pretty bows on?”

The groan you release is guttural, because god your boyfriend knew how to turn you on like a damn light switch. Your eyelids flutter shut and your head falls back on his shoulder, phone slipping out of your grasp and onto the floor. His finger moves in tight circles on the bundle of nerves, cupping the rest between the apex of your thighs. Fuck, he was starting to get the better of you.

“Y-Yes, but on— mmm— on one condition,” you force yourself to stay steeled, keeping your voice as stable as possible.

“And what is that?” Hyunjae nibbles your earlobe, teeth grazing the shell and sending goosebumps all over the expanse of your skin. His ring finger presses up on your entrance over your dampened underwear, making you clench around nothing.

Oh he was a dead man. You were going to make him pay.

“You w-wear the ribbons,” your breathing hitches. “Let me— let me tie you up. I’ll make it worth your while, Jae. P-Promise…”

He halts his motions, like he’s contemplating your words carefully. It’s not like much would change, to be honest. Hyunjae would still be the one in control after a certain point. You just wanted the excuse to bind the smug motherfucker for once. And to keep the bows on him, but around his wrists this time.

Hyunjae retracts his hands from your shorts to remove his shirt, the heat radiating against your back from his bare torso. Your chest heaves up and down as you watch him climb back to the head of the bed, sweatpants low on his hips. It takes a whole fucking lot of self restraint not to jump his bones then and there, but you manage, straddling his waist so you can tie his wrists to the bed posts with your pink satin ribbon. Your hands are shaky, like your breathing, but he doesn’t point it out, letting you have your fun.

A low grunt escapes his lips when you pull on the fabric, ensuring it’s tight enough to hold him still but loose enough not to leave a mark. It doesn’t help that he can feel you pulsating through your sleep shorts onto his abdomen, his muscles contracting underneath you.

You aren’t really sure if you can even keep up your own act, grinding down on his lap like a bitch in heat. It’s embarrassing how easy it is for him to work you up without so much as touching you. You knew if you didn’t stop now, you’d dry hump him until you were a quivering mess, fully clothed and all. Hyunjae knows you’re needy, too, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“Can we— god— can we just s-skip the foreplay?” You whine into the crook of his neck, hooking your fingers into his sweatpants. “Want you inside me already…”

“Of course, baby, you know I’ll never say no to you,” he coos, mouth finding yours to kiss you slowly, gently, passionately.

You push his pants and underwear down in one go, using your feet to kick them away so you can undress yourself as fast as possible. Your desperation is too strong to pretend it’s not there, so you give into your own carnal desires. Hyunjae hisses when your cunt hovers over his cock, so slick that it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside completely.

Every time you have sex with him, you feel so full, the weight of his cock so deep in you that you see stars well before he’s even moved. You support yourself with a hand on each of his shoulders, lips still molded with his as you begin to bounce meticulously. Your moans are muffled with his kiss, practically impaling yourself on his dick.

Your hips roll experimentally, throwing your head back with a drawn out moan and your nails clawing down his chest when he hits that particular spot inside your pussy. Hyunjae lets out a sound akin to a strangled moan, wanting nothing more than to get his hands all over your body so he can fuck you six ways to Sunday.

He bends his knees to make it a bit smoother for you, relishing in the way you’re losing yourself to your pleasure without him having to do a single thing. You’re just rutting against him at this point, legs beginning to give out this early.

“Don’t— mmm— Hyunjae, I can’t— ‘s too much,” your speech is already slurred, words blurring together and making hardly any sense.

“Let me get out of these, baby,” he tugs at the ribbons. “I’ll fuck you so good, my love. I’ll give you— fuck— what you want.”

You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to say anything remotely coherent. Thankfully, Hyunjae takes note of the lack of strength you currently have, not expecting you to untie the knots on his wrists without struggle. You watch with heavy lids and he pulls harshly, tearing the satin binding him to the bed frame. So much for them being secure…

Your top half collapses into his chest and he grasps at your waist roughly, having half the mind to flip you over and pin you to the mattress. Instead, he presses up into you, slow at first so he can regain his bearings after being tied up, and then he’s bucking up into your pussy like a jackrabbit.

“Thought you could take me—“ he cuts himself off with a groan. “Thought you could take me all by yourself like a big girl, huh?”

Whining in response is all you can do, almost on the verge of tears. The sounds of your cunt sucking him in, squelching echoing around the bedroom, are nearly enough to knock you over the edge. The coil in the pit of your stomach stretches more and more, teeth sinking into his collarbone and marking up his supple, sweaty skin like it was your day job. His blunt nails dig into the fat of your hips as a means of grounding himself, holding back from finishing before you because you were his top priority.

Your nimble fingers sneak between your bodies to massage your oh-so-sensitive clit, ring and middle digits working at double their usual speed. Hyunjae stares at you with hearts in his eyes as you try desperately to get yourself off. He thinks you’re gorgeous every second of every day, but for some reason, you look fucking breathtaking right now.

“My pretty girl, taking it like a champ,” he grits his teeth. “You love when I fuck you like a pornstar, don’t you?”

It’s when he connects your lips in a kiss so sweet it puts all the others to shame and so polar-opposite to the filth the two of you were committing, that you cum without warning, velvety walls constricting around his cock. Your head is empty and your vision goes white for a moment, static ringing in your ears. He follows immediately after, moaning into your mouth as he does so. You swallow the noises while your breathing stutters, the sensation of him filling you up with all he can give blindsiding your senses.

You stay sandwiched together as you both calm down, tired and achy from such strenuous activity. When you stop to think about the cause of these events, you snort until it morphs into an uncontrollable laughter. (Then you wince because Hyunjae’s dick was still inside of you.)

“What’s so funny?” He furrows his eyebrows, making no effort to move.

“That fucking bow trend led to one of the best orgasms of my life,” you’re still laughing, chin on your hands, which are folded over his chest. “It’s so stupid.”

“The bows are cute. Maybe you should let me try tying you up with them next time.” Hyunjae pecks your forehead, running his fingers through your hair.

“Trust me,” you giggle, a yawn threatening to push past your lips. “There will definitely be a next time.”

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #juyeonszn

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deformedcat · 1 month

Text

The 5 love language

pairing: artist male y/n x childhood friend oc

warning: vomiting, stalking, obsessive behaviour, gore, open ending, not proof read, v rushed 📣📣

Valentine's Day, a day to spend with your loved ones, something you didn't have.

Forget spending Valentine's day with anyone- you had work at the convenience store. Sure, you're an artist, but money won't magically appear onto your kitchen counter.

Despite that, it didn't bother you as much as the sight you saw around you that day. (though bother might not be fitting, more like envious) There were couples everywhere on dates, holding hand and showing their affection towards each other. Bleh. (translation: when is it my turn?)

Either way, you could complain all you want but life still goes on. Sighing, you walk towards your apartment, staring down at your phone to avoid the sights of couples. It wasn't until an envelope at your door caught your attention.

The envelope had a simple yet design with a heart shape sticker on it, you hesitantly take it and enter your apartment.

After sitting on your couch for abit, you cautiously and gradually opens the letter, wary of any potential pranks, but nothing happened.

"Dear y/n

Happy Valentine's day, well, it's not Valentine's day yet but it will be soon.

I've always had a big crush on you, but i never gotten the chance to confess to you directly. Truth to be told, i'm not a courageous person, but you give me the strength to do so today :).

You are the most strongest, admirable person I've met. Whenever i listen to your music, I'm hit in awe with how talented you are. I fall even harder everytime i see you. Your presence is already enough for me to keep going.

Do you know the saying "the 5 love language"? They are words of affirmation, acts of service, receiving gifts, quality time, and physical touch. I would love to know which one is your love language, but instead of asking, I want to let you experience all of them. I aim to make you feel loved in every way possible, starting with words of affirmation!"

..Ah.

A secret admirer,,?

You honestly didn't know something so cliche that would be done in a high school romance movie would happened to yourself, in real life.

The rest of the kettle had you fuming like a kettle, was this person a fan of poets? They sure had their way with words.

As sweet as the letter sounds, you couldnt help but feel crept out by this, how much does this person knows you? Do you even know this person?

You could only hope that it's not someone creepy, like a stalker.. You opened your phone and take a picture of the letter, sending it to your childhood bestfriend.

y/n:

photo.jpeg

hyeon:

what's this?

y/n:

love letter,

saw it in front of my

apartment

hyeon:

does someone have a lil crush on little y/n :0?

y/n:

hyeon:

Daniel's got a competitor 😄

y/n:

NEVER

im forever loyal to daniel

👎👎

hyeon:

haha

why are you showing me this?

y/n:

idk

felt a lil crept out

dont u think its weird??

how did they know where i lived? idfk who they are

hyeon:

hmm, thats true.

maybe it's a neighbour? they mentioned they could hear your music, they might be living around your area ?

y/n:

that make it even worse

hyeon:

lock your doors and windows, you wouldnt want to entice your little 'admirer' to break in do you?

y/n:

gtg, bye

hyeon:

i was just joking D:!

I'll be back from Russia soon, i promise <3

y/n

mm, maybe dont.

take care tho

A few days went by and nothing happened, you were beginning to wonder if the letter was just a prank from the kids around the area.

Regardless, you didn't care, you were to tired from your work ealier. Getting yelled at by your manager in front of the customers, for something rather silly. (you looked really tired but manager took it as "mf u dont like ur work isit) This was far fron the first time, and not the worst thing that had happened, but it didn't make it less draining.

you went into your apartment, turned on the light and fell right onto your couch. Rent was due in 3 weeks,, you were mentally preparing yourself to starve for the next few days to be able to have a roof under your head.

everything was tiring you out, and you just want a car to come running into you already, but the house isn't going to clean itself. You had to do chores because you have been putting off chores for a few days now. It's going to pile up the more you tell yourself "i'll do it tomorrow." so you pushes your body off the couch to start.

maybe you can start by taking out the trash.

problem was, the trash was missing. you stared at the empty, new plastic bag over the trash you didn't remember replacing. are you hallucinating?

you went over the sink to wash the dishes, to find them cleaned and kept neatly inside the cabinet. huh.

you must be going crazy, you were sure you did not wash those dishes nor keep them. even if you did, you wouldn't store them as neat as this.

are you going insane?

you quickly check the laundry, and sure enough, they were all done up. the dirty clothes were washed, the one that you didn't bother folding was folded and put away in your bedroom. Neatly.

was your landlord here this morning? Even if he was, he wouls never done something like this. He only ever told you to stop being so lazy and clean the messy apartment. He even once demanded you to clean everything up while be watched but thats it.

you hit your head against the wall, hard, to check if you had not actually fallen asleep on the couch and this was all just a dream. you winced at the pain on your forehead, that sure gave you an answer that youre not hallucinating.

maybe you're just overworked..?

you sat on your bed, noticing a familiar envelope with another sticker on your pillow.

what the fuck.

you opened the envelope, which in it read,

"dear y/n,

Surprise, it's an act of service this time! you're so hardworking that you tire yourself out,, so i decided to do somethinf to lighten the load for you. Remember to take a break when you need it okay?

I also cooked dinner for you, it's your favourite :). They're in the fridge, please enjoy, it's not healthy to starve yourself.

Eternally yours,

Your secret admirer 💌"

you wanted to kill yourself.

your stalker is in fact, a stalker.

how did they get in your house?

how did they know your habits?

you didn't even bother eating the food in the fridge, letting it sit there as you spend the night searching for cameras in your house.

y/n:

hyeon,

they broke in

the mf that sent the letter broke in

photo.jpeg

hyeon:

broke in?

how? didn't i told you to lock the doors and windows?

y/n:

idfk hyeon

they broke in and like

did my chores

and even cook dinner for me

saying its an act of service

hyeon:

are you safe?

y/n:

i dont know am i

i know this sounds weird af but im

not joking

i dont feel safe in my house rn

hyeon:

call the police.

y/n:

with what evidence

tell them that someone sent two envelope, broke into my bouse, did my chores and cooked a meal for me??

ill sound like a maniac

then they'll send me to a mental hospital

hyeon:

you'll never know unless you try,

y/n, this sound dangerous, your life could be on the line bere.

please just call the police and see if they can do anything about it.

do you still have that previous letter with you?

y/n:

yeah

hyeon:

show that to them, including the new one.

y/n:

ill try

hyeon:

okay.

i wish i wasnt in russia right now.

im so sorry, please wait a bit more, ill come back soon.

update me whenever you can.

y/n:

dont be sorry,

thank you.

you never had a peaceful sleep for the next few days, the only thing keeping you sane is messaging hyeon everyday.

you have been so worn out from what happened that night. you had gone to the police, but after they didnt found anything suspicious in your house besides the two letter, they then left and told you to contact them if anything happened.

useless. you texted to hyeon.

neither did the police nor you could find any hidden cameras around your house, but that didnt mean you were safe. they could missed them, or not search at the right place.

you were sitting on your couch, scrolling down your phone to distract what had happened. suddenly, someone knocked on your door.

you groaned, thinking it was your landlord, you got up, walked to your door and peek from the peephole. nobody was there.

you opened the door slowly, immediately notices the stench behind the door. sitting on the floor in the dark hallway were two boxes wrapped like gifts with a gold ribbon.

crimson liquid was seeping through the boxes, on top of one of the box was an envelope, the one you had received a few days prior.

you suppressed the urge to throw up as you felt your breath getting quicker and shallower. you opened your phone and called the police and messaged hyeon

y/n

hyeon

when the polices arrived, they opened the boxes and envelope. one of the polices seems panickes and quickly rushes to you bringing the envelope, making you read it.

"Dear y/n,

Two, the number of hands one would need to do a heart, i thought it would be romantic to give you two gifts. After all, what's Valentine's day without gifts?

I've seen the way those two treated you, i couldnt stand watching them mistreated you. How prideful that human trash must be to push all his mistakes onto you then punishes you? Just because he's a manager? You don't deserve that, dear, so, this is for you.

And that bastard landlord of yours, the way he stares at you and put his hand at you is so disgusting. If he's gonna look at you like that, he don't deserve his eyes. Just because he's your landlord, does not mean he can put his hand on you like that, so i cut them off.

i hope you enjoy the gifts, dear. I guess this can be considered to be acts of service too? I look foward to spending some quality time with you. I can't wait to finally have you in my arm.

ps. inside the hand of your manager is a necklace. <3

Eternally yours,

Your secret admirer 💌"

you glanced at the content of the boxes, puking at the side after seeing the blood hand of your manager and your landlord's head with his eyes gouge out.

you felt helpless.

you had nowhere to go.

you didnt wanna stay here anymore, you dont feel safe anywhere.

you just want to die.

as the police patting your backs and gives you a bottle of water, you receives a text message on his phone.

hyeon:

hey, i'm here now.

i'm sorry i couldn't reply to you earlier, i just arrived in south korea.

y/n:

hyeon thank god

please

can i stay at your place for a while

i cant stay here anymore

hyeon:

Of course, i'll pick you up.

when you finally met hyeon, you collapsed into the taller man's arm, letting the tears out you have been holding in as hyeon holds you close, embracing you in much needed warmth and comfort.

"here," hyeon placed down a plate of fried rice in front of you, coincidentally it being your favourite food but you dont have any appetite after what happened.

"i can tell you havent been eating well, it's all i have at the moment, but its better than nothing."

you appreciated him, but didnt wanna eat anything at the moment, the sight of your landlors was still fresh in your mind.

"thanks, but i feel really sick right now." you felt bad for putting hyeon through the trouble, only to turn it down in the end. "i'll heat it up and have it tomorrow."

"maybe you at least drink some water?"

"sure." Hyeon was already pouring a warm cup of water for you, you were glad you at least had hyeon to come to.

you two spent a while in an awkward silence, it was like hyeon would not ask what had happened until you were ready to talk about it yourself.

"do you have work later?" you asked to distract yourself.

No, hyeon had alarms around the house. He would be notified of any suspicious activities detected.

"no, my manager said he'll take care of it."

"oh.."

then the silence were back again, until hyeon opened his mouth.

"are you going to sleep now?"

"I.." you were sure you would not be able to sleep tonight, you do not know where that stalker was, what if they too breaks into hyeon's house? will you put him in danger as well?

Even so, you're still on edge.

"do you want to share a room?"

"what?"

"you don't have to sleep alone when i'm right here for you to cuddle with!"

you sighed, "hyeon-"

"no really, maybe im just overprotective but i really dont want to leave you alone. We can catch up on the past month, and maybe if i talk enough, it might put you to sleep?"

you cried into his arms for the second time that night.

you could not remember the last time you was help to sleep, you didnt think there was ever a time actually. when he slept besides hyeon, the latter would always wrap his body around you like a koala.

not that it surprised you, hyeon had always been handsy with you ever since the two was young, but only around him.

whenever they ate together, hyeon would reach his hand out to wipe a grain of rice or a drop of sauce off your face.

whenever they play fight, hyeon would always hug you as a way to "immobilize you". when hyeon suggested decorating the house for Valentine's day to take your mind off of things, he would hold your hand and guide you through tying ribbons and hanging decorations.

And when you still couldnt stop the anxiety from rising, hyeon would hold you so close, no matter what time it is, he would remind you to breathe, and prepare plastic bags for you in case you pukes.

Heck, he even made sure that you had fallen asleep first before he would.

you felt safe by hyeon's side.

On the morning of Valentine's day, hyeon was still asleep which was expected, he had waited for you to fall asleep the night before.

You carefully and quietly slipped out of hyeon's tight hold, and headed towards the washroom, you decided to clean hyeon's office then cook a meal for him.

walking toward hyeon's office, you noticed a few paperwork on his table. It seems like it was the paperwork hyeon's had been doing last evening.

His handwriting was exceptionally neat, it had been quite some time you last seen it, but you could remember envying the man for having such a neat writing.

you noticed a half opened file on the floor, you picked it up and read the content of the files out of curiousity

they were mostly a bunch of statistics and numbers, percentages and whatnot. you wanted to stop reading but you felt drawn in his handwriting. To you, it looked familiar, like you've seen it before.

you stared longer at the words until you realized,

realized why he found it familiar.

you flipped to the next page, why did hyeon have your landlord personal informations?

you felt arms hugging you from behind, "what are you doing, snooping around my work like that? what if it's confidential?'

you didnt answer.

"y/n?" hyeon seemed to noticed you tensing up, "sorry, did i scare you that badly? you just seemed so focused on those papers, i just had to-"

"Hyeon."

"Yeah?"

You didnt know what to say, you did not know what to ask. You didnt know how to ask him.

you wish you were just dreaming.

Because.. wasnt hyeon in russia all this time?

"y/n?"

Hyeon couldnt have been in south korea. He couldnt have went into your apartment. He couldnt have place those.. letters abd boxes in your apartment if he wasnt even in the same country as you

ah.

"y/n, are you okay?"

"hyein,, can i take a look at your passport?"

"my passport? why?"

"i just want to.. confirm something."

Hyeon looked at you for a while, before letting go of you "sure, let me go get it."

As he went back to his room, you held ontobthe table tightly to avoid collapsing.

its okay.

you just had to look into his passport, then you would realize how dumb you are to suspect hyeon, the person that sheltered you when you had nowhere to go. the man that's your childhood friend who would sacrifice anything for you-

Hyeon returned, with his passport in hand. "here you go." you were about to take the passport from hum until you saw it

or more like the lack of it.

instead of handing the passport to you normally, hyeon had flipped it to the latest page. Hyeon had supposedly flew to russia first of december last year.

The last time he travelled, according to the passport,

was back in june.

"you were wondering about this, werent you?" hyeon stepped closer towards you, "when did it click?"

"your handwriting you bastard."

"ah right, that was my mistake, but dont you think it took too long for you to notice?"

Hyeon took the papers one by one, putting them together neatly, as if he was having the most normal and mundane conversation.

As if he wasnt the one that sent you all of that letters.

As if he was not the one who broke into your apartment.

As if he didnt sent that severed head and hands to you..

"i guess i should expected that, after all, i'm never the one whom you'll ever have eyes for, am i?" he smiled bitterly.

"Hyeon.." you wanted to be proven wrong, you wanted to be wrong so bad.

you wanted to believe hyeon was not capable of this.

you wanted to believe him, your closest friend, would never do such thing.

instead, you received a hug that felt so cold.

you wanted to strangle hyeon so bad. you wanted to strangle yourself.

you just felt so weak.

as much as you wanted to avoid it, the clues were all right in front of you, mocking you.

there was no one in the world who had heard and appreciated your music, who observed and knew so much of your lifestyle and habits besides ivan.

when the puzzle started coming together, you could feel yourself falling apart.

"so y/n, please tell me:

what is your favourite love language?"

you just want to die.

[draft messages]

y/n:

thanks for taking me in

im glad i hv u in my lufe

you better not tell anyone i said this,

but i dont think theres anyone else i trust

anyone else more than you

thank you.

a/n: zzzzz goodnight (disappears)

#male reader #male yandere #bottom male reader #x male reader #iwanttosleeppeladw #sub male reader #mayi'swriting—

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bloodmoonmuses · 3 months

Text

stray cats, cold spaghetti | mark lee

genre: mark lee x reader, meet cute, friends to lovers (this is unedited, so forgive any typos! happy valentine's day!)

warnings: mentions of food!

summary: your cat introduces you to your new friend, mark. he's a bit more similar to an actual cat than you initially realized.

You didn’t understand the attachment people had to their pets until this stupid cat showed up. She was a stray, with mangled fur and callous eyes, who popped up some months ago. You had checked for any postings about missing pets, and even asked a few of your neighbors, but no one claimed the ratty thing. It’s not that you disliked animals entirely- you’re not a sociopath. You just aired more on the side of nonchalance.

The cat could sense this, ever since the first time you two crossed paths. You remember that night so vividly. You couldn’t sleep. You laid on your couch, staring at the ceiling, hoping slumber would whisk you away sooner than later. Just as your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard whining. Visceral, pained whining. At first, you tried to ignore it, but when you heard a sound that suspiciously sounded like a young child, you figured it’d be better to survey the situation just in case. When you opened your door to a begging cat, you sighed. Damn the neighbors for feeding this thing. Now she thinks she owns the place.

“I bet you’re hungry, huh.” The cat bore into you with bright green eyes, tilting its head as if to say, “Duh!”

So you re-entered your home, Googled “What human food can cats eat?”, and came back with canned tuna and half a carrot. The brat looked right past the carrot and inhaled the tuna, this being its first real meal of the day. In between scarfing down food, the gray cat looked at you inquisitively. “Any more where that came from?” her eyes said. She sidled up next to your leg, purring and rubbing her head against it.

“That’s all I got,” you had confessed.

You named her June, since that’s the month she came into your life. Now, you’re best friends. June is actually pretty chill. She likes watching movies with you and, strangely, likes going on walks. After getting her groomed, she’s kinda cute too. You hated to admit it, but you love June. You imagine this is how people felt about their kids- without the initial reluctance of course. June comes and goes as she pleases as if she’s still a stray, but always comes back by dinner time.

When June isn’t back at her usual time one day in October, you get a bit nervous. She never does this. Before breaking out into a full out panic, you remember she’s got a collar and a tracker from the vet now. No biggie. Opening the app that’s connected to June’s tracker, you meander down the path you usually walk with her when it’s warmer out. When you’re a few blocks from your place, you see her, relief flooding your system. Then you realize there’s a man petting her.

“Junie! June!” You run up to her, taking her into your arms. You snuggle her into a tight embrace, planting a kiss on her head. You’re so caught up in your reunion with June that you forget about the stranger standing in front of you. Oh yeah. You should probably say something. His hair is somewhere in between auburn and brown, making his face look incredibly warm. You hold June a bit tighter.

“Cute cat,” the stranger says. His voice is a bit hoarse. “Thought she was a stray before I saw the collar.” Um, okay? June’s a little rough around the edges, but she’s clearly cared for.

“Yeah, she’s mine. Do you, like, follow strays around in your free time?” you ask with a bite to your tone.

“Do you let your pet wander around like a stray in your free time?” Fair, you think, but still rude.

“She’s a free spirit,” you contest.

“So you let her wander.”

“This is the first time she hasn’t come home for dinner. Our relationship is built mostly on my ability to provide her food- which works for me.” You’re not sure why you’re explaining your relationship with your cat. Who cares what this guy thinks?

June jumps out of your arms, back to the ground, and walks up to the stranger’s legs. He bends down to resume petting her. From his crouched stance, he looks into your eyes. The eye contact makes you shiver.

“She’s sweet,” he says. “What’s her name?”

“June. She’s a charmer- and incredibly manipulative. She probably thought she could swindle you out of some food.”

“Do I look easy to take advantage of?” He asks.

You assess him. Oversized hoodie, baggy pants, sneakers covered in scuffs... Maybe he’s a dancer. Or skateboards. You’d be into that, you think. Skater boys weren’t really your thing, but they could be- as long as it’s him. If anything, the guy just looks… cozy, all bundled up like this. There’s a tinge of red on the tip of his nose from the nippy air. He’s smirking to himself at his (flirtatious) question, making his cheek look plump. You want to pinch it.

You want to make him as warm as his eyes make you feel.

You realize you’ve probably been staring. Geez, what was his question? Oh yeah. “Yeah. Like a pushover,” you say. “In the best way, of course.”

“Ouch.”

“Only a real sap would fall victim to June’s powers. She can sense lackeys. No offense.”

“I’m gonna choose to believe that means you think I’m a nice guy.”

“Nice enough.”

“I’ll take it.” The two of you stand in awkward silence for a few moments, June having finally grown bored of her new friend. The guy stands from his crouching position and sways a bit as he awaits your next move.

“Well, like I said, this little lady was late for dinner. So if it’s okay with you,” you pick up June, then continue your thought, “We’ll be heading out.”

As you turn to walk back home, the stranger says, “I… didn’t catch your name, by the way.”

Right. You introduced June, but not yourself. Go figure. “Oh. I’m ___.”

“Cool. I’m Mark.” He looks like a ‘Mark’-boyish and chipper.

“Nice to meet you, Mark. Well, have a nice night.” You start to walk again, but Mark interjects yet again.

“The sun’s setting,” he blurts it out like he’s trying to rid his mouth of the words as quickly as possible. “Can I walk you home?” Then he amends, “I live nearby, so I know it gets kinda dark in this neighborhood. Not many street lights.”

You think about it. You’re not getting any serial killer vibes, plus he’s already passed the June test. (And if you're being honest, he's very cute.) “Um, sure. Thanks.”

The two of you walk in silence, save for June’s purring. When you make it to your apartment building, you stop. Your gut is twisting, mind fixating on the warmth radiating off Mark’s body. Your fingertips are whirring with electricity. You have a bad idea.

“Would you maybe… wanna come in for dinner?” Mark turns to look at you. “I never really learned how to cook for one person, so I always have a bunch of leftovers.”

It’s a lie, but not entirely. You like to cook enough food for the entire week. Mark doesn't need to know this, you conclude.

Mark nods to himself. “Uh, sure. I could eat.”

As soon as you place June down in your apartment, she sprints to her food bowl. Silly girl.

“Sorry about the mess. Wasn’t expecting company,” you say. “I hope you like spaghetti.”

“Love it,” Mark responds. (You’d later find out this was a lie.)

“Perfect.”

That’s how you and Mark became friends- similarly to how June came into your life. You fed him. In all honesty, he wasn’t that fond of your spaghetti. He just liked the way you smiled each time he took a bite. The two of you continued to get to know one another while making food. Neither of you are great cooks, so you usually team up. It’s become a love language of sorts, sending recipes back and forth to try. You look forward to eating with Mark more than anything these days.

You’re more than aware of your underlying feelings for Mark, but you’ve managed to temper them. You don’t want to scare him off, but the tension is relentless. You’re making tiramisu and your shoulders touch. You’re piping flowers on a cupcake while Mark pulls tendrils of hair away from your face. You’re whisking meringue into stiff peaks while Mark hums to June in the living room. It’s heart achingly domestic.

Oftentimes you imagine Mark as your husband. In your daydreams the two of you are wearing matching aprons, flour dusting his nose. He kisses you, a fit of giggles attacking your system. You’re absolutely smitten and unabashedly so.

In reality, today is Valentine’s Day. Mark suggests he comes over and makes pizza. You don’t think Mark realizes what day it is until you suggest making your pizzas heart shaped. He says he forgot to buy his friend Jaehyun a birthday gift.

“This is, like, kinda romantic.” If being covered in pizza sauce and flour is romantic, then yes. This was very romantic. You have a nice spread here- fresh basil, mozzarella, alfredo sauce, vodka sauce, roma tomatoes… It smells so nice. Mark keeps sneaking chunks of cheese into his mouth. He looks like a little mouse. June is fast asleep on the couch. You’ve finally perfected the heart shape of your dough, and begin to spread alfredo sauce on your pizza.

“Your parameters for romance are very strange, Mark Lee.”

“If you close your eyes, it’s like we’re in Italy.” When he says things like this, they only fuel your daydreams. You blame the flush of your face on the preheating oven.

“Venice, I hope.”

“Of course.”

Mark’s pizza looks more like an anatomical heart than the kind you’d doodle in a notebook. He scoffs when you tell him this, feigning offense.

“Should I remind you of how your cinnamon rolls came out a few weeks ago?” They were awful. At a certain point, you had given up and rolled them into balls.

“My cinnamon rolls/balls were innovative and transcendent.”

“I don’t even know how you messed them up,” Mark says as he puts the pizzas in the oven, “We bought pre-made dough.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

When the pizzas are done baking, the two of you sit at the dinner table. It’s a different feel for the two of you, seeing as you usually eat together on the couch. You take a bite of your pizza, savoring the taste.

“Not bad. Wanna taste?” Mark nods. Instinctively, the two of you swap plates, trying each others’ creations.

“I think you’re better at making savory foods.”

“I agree.”

You and Mark continue to eat your pizzas, taking gulps of your respective drinks in between bites. Beer for Mark, white wine for you. Jazz plays softly from your shitty phone speaker, and June’s snores fill in the gaps of silence. After a bit, Mark’s face goes red from the alcohol. You liked seeing him tipsy. He gets all wavy and fluid, unconsciously swaying side to side like a daisy in the wind. Your face feels fuzzy from the wine and you find yourself biting your tongue.

You’ve had to be more conscious of your alcohol intake around Mark lately. It felt as if at any moment, your love for him would simply become unbearable. Recently, it’s been hard to just look at him- even while sober. Tonight, apparently, you threw caution to the wind.

“Mark?” you say.

“Hmm….” He’s drifting away, lethargic from the food and beer. You repeat his name again, this time getting his full attention. When his glassy eyes meet yours, the force behind them knocks the wind out of you.

“Yes?” says Mark. He takes another sip of beer.

You can’t do this, you think, backtracking entirely. The lie escapes as a garbled mess of words: “Forgot what I was gonna say.” You take a nervous gulp of your wine.

Mark slams his fist on the table, in a drunken stupor. The sound startles you, but there’s no malice behind his motion. In fact, he’s laughing to himself. “Bullshit.”

“I really did lose my train of thought. Maybe it’ll come back to me.”

“I know you’re lying. Like you lied about that cold ass spaghetti you used to lure me in!” he says, referencing the night you met. The spaghetti wasn’t that cold…

“I really did make too much spaghetti that night! Plus, you kept June safe. It was the least I could do!”

Mark begins to gather your plates and cups, walking over to the kitchen to place them in the sink. As he stands, he says, “I won’t force you to say it, but I know you’re lying.”

Then he moves to run the faucet. The rushing water fills the silence like TV static, buzzing and itching in your ears. Your throat is burning. You want to talk to him openly, honestly- but something’s stopping you. Mark washes the dishes wordlessly. With his back turned to you, his words hang heavy in the air. Mark never pries but simultaneously knows you so intimately. You love being known by him. You love knowing him.

You simply love him.

“Why’d you walk me home that night?” Your voice barely pierces the air. The question practically squeaks out of you.

“What?” Mark turns off the facet and dries his hands on a towel, turning to look at you.

“The night we met. Why’d you walk me home?”

He contemplates the question for a moment, closing his eyes to visualize the night. Then he says, “Wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

The moment is delicate and fragile. You’re scared that if not nimble enough, if not cradled with the utmost gentleness, it will shatter. You proceed with caution.

“Mark?” At the sound of his name, Mark returns to his seat at the dining table.

“I think… I love you.” Mark chuckles. “Don’t laugh!”

“You think?” he says, now breaking out into a full-bodied laugh.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“I love you too.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “...I think.”

“Very funny, asshole.”

Mark reaches over the table and places a chaste kiss upon your lips. “Okay, I think I’m a little more sure now,” he says.

“Need some more reassurance?” you ask. Mark nods.

You lean in to kiss him this time, and just before your lips touch, you hear whining. You pull back to look down, seeing June curled up beneath your chair. Her timing is always impeccable. The two of you giggle, sealing the moment with a fervent kiss. You melt into his touch, the elation coursing through your veins. When you come up for air, you meet Mark’s eyes.

“What?” he says. “I’m a better kisser than you thought?”

“I was just wondering… you’re still gonna wash the dishes, right?”

#bloodmoonmuses #nct 127 #nct 127 fluff #mark lee #mark lee fic #mark lee fluff #mark lee x reader

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ieatkeyboard · 3 months

Text

What Obey Me brothers do for Valentines day

Note: I have a love-hate relationship with Valentines day but it's a really cute holiday! Hope you guys have fun :] Warnings: Sappy love, fluff

Lucifer: - It's cannon he's been in many relationships so I don't think it's his first rodeo - He cleans up your room while you're at work. Washes your bedding+other laundry, makes your bed and folds your laundry, does some vacuuming. -He doesn't go through your drawers or anything just tries to make it a bit neater so you can come home and not worry about cleaning up - He gets you gifts based on things you like. If you like to make jewellery he'll get a couple kits from a hobby store to make together. If you like comfy clothes, he'll customise a set of pyjamas for you, etc. - He'll jot down notes of things you like all January. He makes sure to ask at the beginning of January what your dream Valentines day activity would be in hopes you forget about it over the month - I feel like he wouldn't ask for what he wants but he enjoys doing things together. He's a bit of a sap so he uses Valentines day to show it more. - I feel like he'd be a sucker for roses. Get him white and red roses with a little note and he'll never forget it. - He might get you some little things on Valentines day if it's on a week day and use the weekend to do more. - He'd love make dinner with you but he has your favourite restaurant on standby in case Beel walks in- - Watching movies together in his room cause his bed is bigger, taking your blankets and pillows into his room cause you're spending the night there. -He tears up a little at the end of the night, when you're sleeping in his arms. He hopes this is the most memorable Valentines day you'll ever have

Mammon: - He's a sap but in the "idk what I'm doing" way - Anything he knows about you leaves his brain - He gets you flowers and chocolate and sprays his cologne on a hoodie for you - He'll probably take you for a drive and show you all his favourite places (Spoiler. It's the places you first met, took your first date at, had all your firsts at) - He'll cry remembering how it started. how you ended up in his life and all the things you've been through - He takes you through a drive through and you eat in the parking lot. He has your shared playlist playing quietly in the background while you both talk about your days and your memories together - I feel like he wouldn't need anything. He just wants you - But if you got him a new sweater or watch he was looking at, he'd be extremely happy. - I also feel like he likes sunflowers

Leviathan: - He's never had a Valentine before, he also would be too scared to ask - He'd slip a note under your bedroom door that says "Wanna be my Valentine?" and when you agree he gets really happy but also nervous that you're kidding or are doing it out of pity - After much reassurance you set up plans together - You guys watch your favourite anime together, build the anime figurines Levi's been putting off together, play games, order food - You probably sneak out later to go walk to a convenience store to get snacks and drinks and go fuck around at a park - I think he'd buy your snacks for you and pick up a stuffy for you - He isn't overly sure what you like in the flowers and such department but he tries - I feel like he isn't a big flower person tbh

Satan: - Romantic slut man - He makes you a goody bag. He writes a love letter with references to the books you've read together, makes a kiss print sweater like the ones on tiktok (Got the idea from Asmo sending him stuff of what to do for you), got you the snacks you like, a gift card to the places you like and a lamb stuffy that reminds him of you - He likes lavender for sure - I feel like getting him a nice lavender room spray to help him relax while he reads, a cat stuffy, the book he's been dying to read but is always in use at the library and a new blanket would be perfect for him (I am absolutely projecting, and what) - Making a blanket for with him and watching the movie adaptations to the books you like is everything. Go to a cat cafe to get lunch before going shopping and putting the gift card he got you to use

Asmo: - Oh lordy lord - Bath bomb, rose petals, wine, your favourite show, the kiss print sweater but I feel like he'd do matching pants (You'll NEVER guess where he put the kisses!!!*REAL* *NOT CLICKBAIT*), spa day, a cute lunch and dinner date, SO MANY PICTURES - He wants to spoil you. Give you everything romantic he could possibly think of - He likes lilies. lilys? Idfk you get the idea - He also would love to make stuff together! I also feel like Asmo draws up a little map of all the places you had your firsts and put little Polaroid pictures of those days next to the spots - Taking him shopping and getting to go home, do a little fashion show, try all the new makeup he got one each other, make the teddy bear you got him smell like you, get him new blankets/candles/decorations for his room. He'd be so happy - I feel like as much as Valentines day is the day of love and he'd flirt a lot, he'd keep sex out of the plans (Unless you want it but than after the fact he'll complain about needing to catch up on the other plans he made lol) - He loves you for so much more than your body and especially cause he's the Avatar of lust he want to prove it's not just his sin getting in the way

Beel: - He gets you comfy clothes, snacks, and other stuff you like! If you have your ears pierced or have other piercings he'll get you cute jewellery, get you a necklace to match. If you like cats, he'll get you a sweater with cat ears and a cat stuffy - He worries about getting you flowers because if they smell good he'll want to eat them- - On the note he for sure likes edible flowers like hibiscus, rose, lavender and chamomile. I'd recommend getting him flowers in the way of getting flower flavoured things - He would appreciate ordering food from all the places you've been on dates so you can have a trip down memory lane while eating (He absolutely asked Asmo for that idea) - I feel like he'd ask his brothers and your friends for ideas cause as much as he knows you, you probably admit to like different or more stuff with friends - He asks you to show him all your favourite movies, current and childhood. He wants to know how you became the amazing person he fell in love with - He wouldn't want much for Valentines day. Candy and like I said, flower flavoured things would be enough for him. If you get him anything else please do not make it food related he will chew on it. Getting him new clothes and stuff based off his movie would make him really happy

Belphie: - Blanket, both of the fluffy and weighted variety. Cow stuffy. New sweater. -I would try and steer clear of stuff to make him sleep harder but he's a comfy kinda guy so it's hard - Star themed pyjamas and hair clips. Or bleaching his favourite constellations on a black hoodie. He'll wear it everywhere - I feel like he'd like white roses and dahlias - His ideal date would be getting food, going to the planetarium and talking, listening to music, looking at the stars, etc. And than going home and napping with his new blanket and in his new pyjamas. - He'd get you snacks, a hoodie and shorts that are your favourite colour, get you a new pillow that he'd test out first to make sure it was comfy. - And ofc he'd get you stuff you like. Your favourite perfume, stuff based on movies/shows/anime you like. - He'd get a little sappy and tell you he's so glad your still with him. That you're his

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me leviathan #lucifer fluff #mammon fluff #leviathan fluff #satan fluff #asmodeus fluff #beelzebub fluff #belphegor fluff #valentines day #RatwRitesThings

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starrynights-sunnyskies · 16 days

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as the flowers bloom, my heart does too ⋆*·ﾟmisa x putellas!reader, social media au, (5/-)

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when your relationship ends and all you want to do is hide and cry, flowers suddenly start to appear on your doorstep.

or; misa hating to see a pretty girl cry and suffer and going out of her way to cheer her up while staying anonymous

fic: coming

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yourusername: feliz día de san valentín 💌 Liked by alexiaputellas, albaps9, bff3 and 3,927 others

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janafernandez3 I knew you were smiling more than usual lately!!!!

ingridengen Congrats, sweet girl! 😘

ona.battle Yaayy!

marialeonn16 Bambiiii, yes! 😭

salmaparalluelo Have the sweetest day!

bff3 At last 😉❤️

mikkykiemeney cuteee 🎀

marisabel_rguez Lucky girl! ↳ yourusername me or her? ↳ marisabel_rguez Uhh, trick question? liked by yourusername and 15 others

bff1 about timeeeee. i'm so happy for you 💃🤗

username1 the bracelet???? ↳ username2 THE M!! ↳ username3 the m! 😱 ↳ username1 who else do we know she hangs out with that starts with M that doesn't rhyme with visa? ↳ username4 mapi 🤣 ↳ username2 let's not pretend we don't know who it is lol

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Direct Messages marisabel_rguez Happy valentine's, mi querida. I've got a surprise for you. ↳ yourusername another one?? you spoil me too much 😠 ↳ marisabel_rguez As I should, please let me!! ↳ marisabel_rguez So, are you coming? ↳ marisabel_rguez Don't keep me waiting, guapa. ↳ yourusername fuck, okay Seen

alexiaputellas Hey hermanita, I know you were hesitant to tell us about your love life a little while ago, not wanting to jinx things and taking that time together to explore things in private before making things official.... but we will always love you no matter what and we want to love who's made you this happy too. So whenever you're ready, okay? Follow your gut and heart. I'd love to meet your special someone and learn everything about how she makes you happy, how you met, what she's like. I promise to be nice! 😉 Te quiero mucho, ardilla. Delivered

albaps9 yn i'm not going to lie, i'm hurt you've kept me out of the loop after i helped you get through it all. especially when i had to find out myself through instagram posts?? i always like to believe that you know you can come to me for your lows and your highs, so it hurts when you don't. i know you deal with these kind of things differently, especially after all that's happened, so i'll get over it and push my pride aside. but we'll still talk about this, kay? i just hope that you can let us in on your happiness once you're ready. and please don't forget that you deserve this and everything else you haven't even thought of. albaps9 btw, i'll keep my mouth shut for now like you asked, but i don't like keeping things from alexia and mama so it's best they hear it from you instead of connecting the dots as well. i won't lie to them if they ask me directly. i know you're hesitant to start anything new or to tell us so that we won't worry again. i get that you want to keep it private until you're sure it's serious, but we're here for you either way. no judgements, no standards. we just want to see you at your happiest and be there to see you like that. okay? vale. also, i love you, you fucking turd. Delivered

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↳ 21h ago: yourusername added to their story

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↳ 56min ago: yourusername added to their story

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Direct Messages

leilaouahabi Boooo, wrong equipo! ↳ yourusername you don't even play for barça anymore 🤣 ↳ leilaouahabi Once a culer, always a culer!!! Which you SHOULD KNOW! ↳ yourusername 😛 Seen

albaps9 lol alexia is sooo gonna interrogate you over this. good luck. i've kept my mouth so far but you're making it veeeery hard on yourself, little one. Seen

claudiaapina Just... why?! 😱 Seen

janafernandez3 Not cool 😣 ↳ yourusername sorry, lovely ): Delivered

alexiaputellas Que pasa??????? Yn...? 😟 alexiaputellas Oi, don't leave me on seen on this one!! Seen

marisabel_rguez You liked the match? ↳ yourusername sorry, what? was too busy ogling the goalie the entire match. still thinking about her, frankly. ↳ marisabel_rguez That's all I needed to hear. ↳ marisabel_rguez What about her are you thinking of exactly? ↳ yourusername well, what time she'll come back to the hotel, for example? ↳ marisabel_rguez Few hours or so, she just told me. Don't miss her too much in the meantime. ↳ yourusername welp... that's going to be hard! i need her here ): ↳ marisabel_rguez Keep the bed warm for her then. Think you can do that? ↳ yourusername on it. but tell her to not make me wait too long. ↳ marisabel_rguez Or? ↳ yourusername the door will be locked and i'll have a mighty entertaining evening all by myself... ↳ marisabel_rguez Y/n... 😫 ↳ yourusername 😊 Seen

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yourusername: found her. my missing piece 🧩 Liked by marisabel_rguez, marialeonn16, leahwilliamsonn and 4,287 others

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bff1 but you fucking hate puzzles. lockdown proved that. ↳ bff3 Because we couldn't find the missing piece for weeks, then found it in the couch!!!!!!! ↳ yourusername if i had known that’s where she’d be hidden away all this time, i would’ve deep cleaned the apartment waaaay sooner liked by 13 others ↳ bff3 🥹 ↳ yourusername that unfinished puzzle still haunts my dreams btw ↳ bff1 i too have nightmares of jigsaws, but i think that's a different sorta jigsaw entirely 👹🔪 ↳ bff2 who are you and what you have done with our friend for you to ignore that last slide @/bff1 ↳ bff1 the one time i behave and it's not appreciated? ffs ↳ bff3 I hadn't even noticed that one holy heckkk, yn!! so cute!! 🤩

albaps9 okay i see you, that’s why your door was locked from the inside ↳ bff1 be happy that it was 😬😂 ↳ yourusername um hello? can't a couple take a sweet bath together? ↳ bff1 um hi? sweet bath... my ass! ↳ albaps9 um HELLO? i'm still here?! 🤮

bff1 cheeseball ↳ yourusername only saying it how it is 🤷‍♀️

username1 still no tag?? 😫 ↳ username2 omfg leave them be ↳ username3 No need when the answers pretty clear ↳ username4 brb zooming in on that tatted hand 🕵️‍♀️

alexiaputellas Yn, everyone can see this ↳ jennihermoso You're just pressed that YOU saw it. And this was so tame. ↳ alexiaputellas Still my little sister. ↳ jennihermoso Part two: you're just pressed you don't know who she's snogging. ↳ alexiaputellas Can I dislike a comment on here, too?

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↳ 45min ago: yourusername added to their story This story is no longer available

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Direct Messages

albaps9 did you forget mama follows you too? she did NOT get the goalie joke and took it very literal albaps9 this one landed so wrong for ale too, she immediately called mami to call you 🤣 albaps9 ynn mami’s just asked me about it again. told her to text you, have fun with that. i love you but i'm not fixing your mess 🙃👋😘 Seen

alexiaputellas Y/n disculpe, but you posted it on your public story. And even if you'd posted it to your closed friends... I'm on there as well. Can I at least meet who you're seeing before I know, well... you know. Delivered

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Text Messages

○○○○○○○ mama 🌷(ICE) Why don't you pick up, laelia? mama 🌷(ICE) Mi hija... let me tell you something. mama 🌷(ICE) In relationships, some things are meant to be kept between the couple. To keep it special and protected. mama 🌷(ICE) If your story talks about what I think it does, you omg no mami, let's not, por FAVOR. i deleted it already!! mama 🌷(ICE) Vale, but seems I needed to say it to you, didn't I? You put yourself in this predicament. I see what you post too, linda. mama 🌷(ICE) Now, don't be embarrassed. When two people really love each other, that's just how things go. I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to show that side to one another. you please don't, i will ignore you. mama 🌷(ICE) Y/n, there's no need to feel weird. You can talk to me about everything. About sex too. I'm your mother, I'm supposed to help you navigate these things in life. It's important to feel comfortable during intercourse with yourself and your partner and to both enjoy it. It's not good to learn everything from the internet nowadays and I would never want you feeling insecure or worried about something when you can just talk to me about it. Nothing is too crazy, vale? you ○○○ mama 🌷(ICE) But it so happens that your sister is well-known and that means that some of her audience finds your internet pages too. I'm sure you didn't mean it in a bad way, but think of it next time, okay, querida? mama 🌷(ICE) And I just want to add, a healthy sex life is important, so it's good that you have that and can talk about what you like or don't like with each other. But I'd prefer not finding out you do from the internet. Or before having met your girlfriend. This goes for Alexia, too. She didn't like it. I want my first impression of your girlfriend to be a little different than knowing what she's good at, so to say. I know, no judgements from me, but you're still our niña pequiña, laelia. you ○○○ you ○○○ Read

Text Messages

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you you free right now? albaquerque 🌼 nope. still at work. why? you ack, you butt, you're texting me rn aren't you? albaquerque 🌼 bc when my tiny munchkin of a sis needs me, i'm here. it wounds me that you still don't know that </3 albaquerque 🌼 no seriously why? you buy a shovel after work and please, PUH-lease, help and bury me alive. albaquerque 🌼 jajajajaja mami?? you si, i want the ground to swallow me whole albaquerque 🌼 well i don't have time to come and help you, but maybe your gf will help you dig it with her bare, good-working, skilled and strong hands? or are you going to say she's even better with her tongue now? 😂😂😂😂 you vete a la mierda albaquerque 🌼 now for the love of god, go and tell ale before it's too late. she knows it's a goalie now, it's only a matter of time, yn. after that i'll help you shovel both your graves. seeing as misa will likely need one too. it'll be sooo romantic being next to each other even in death 😍 Seen

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username1: Well, the match just ended and... that was intense? Wanna guess what they were talking about before the ref sent them apart? I also want to know what Alexia quickly yapped to Misa after the goal because whatever it was, it wrecked her up for the rest of the match 😬 1...2...3.. go! Liked by 120 people

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username1 rip misa ouch, she looked so hurt ):

username2 ✨welcome to the family✨

username3 Yeah that didn't look too friendly but still personal 😬

username4 i just knew alexia was waiting all evening to wipe the smug smile off misa’s face the second they all shook hands before the kickoff lol

username5 First run-in with the in-laws already 😆😆

username6 misa’s strong for still staying with yn after this, i would’ve ran and cried, tail between my legs if alexia had done this like yes ma'am, okay ma'am, sorry ma'am.

username7 this was prob just the initiation to the putellas fam 🤝

username8 “Yn babe? Do you think your sister likes me?” :

username9 Awwwkwarddd...

username10 not yn making it worse by going to misa first after the match 🤣🤣🤣

username11 alexia the entire time: 🤨😐 ↳ username5 fr if looks could kill 🥴 ↳ username10 yn would be girlfriend-less

username12 yn come get your woman

username13 Bark bark.

username14 MISA! BAD! ↳ username10 exactly, misa’s down bad 🤪

username15 Would've killed to be a fly on the wall in that locker room and hear the goss

username16 well, looks like they were having a great time 😳

username17 not the camera panning to yn momentarily ↳ username18 the camera operator is one of us 😭👏

username19 knowing misa, no appropriate words came out of that mouth tho 🤣🥵

username20 claws out 🥊

username21 "You fuck my little sister? I'll fuck up your saving ratio! ☺️"

username20 okay no, if my gf fought in my honour and looked this good while doing it, i’d swoon ↳ username18 she didn’t save it tho 🫠 ↳ username20 it is the thought that counts!!!

username22 Wait, what happened between them? I thought they were such good friends? They used to have all these sweet moments together. That entire pk situation seemed so hostile... ↳ username15 Misa's allegedly dating Alexia's youngest sister. But no idea why they seemed so sour.

username23 everyone always talks about enemies to friends, but what about friends to enemies🤣

username24 Who cares?? Forca Barcaaaa!

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Text Messages

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you proud of you 🖤

m 💌 Shit game, but I could hear you cheer me on multiple times. Gracias, querida.

you yeah? you did?

m 💌 Yes 😘 It probably wasn't easy for you to cheer on both teams, but thank you for having my back.

you ofc, my love. always.

you i'll always be your favourite cheerleading wag 🤩

m 💌 My only one! And you look really good doing it.

you too bad you didn’t save that pk tho, bc i would’ve screamed your name

m 💌 ○○○ m 💌 ○○○ m 💌 We still have tonight, no?

you ○○○ you ○○○ you ○○○ you ○○○ you no. you not before you apologise to alexia. you i know you said some things to get her that irked

m 💌 I’m just mad she’s mad. You're finally happy and now she's not. We told her and the first thing she did was walk away and ignore us for two weeks. That hurt. I tried to mend things during camp, but she was cold the entire time. She's making me feel like I'm not good enough for you. I know I shouldn't let my insecurities talk, but I also didn't like how her reaction to us made you go back to your ways of internalising and such. I don't like seeing you like that. And maybe she wouldn't have reacted this way if you were dating someone she didn't know, and then she wouldn't have had this reaction towards you either.

m 💌 And I've been feeling this mad since that very first moment, so I guess it just came out. I feel even worse now, because I never wanted to put you in this situation or make things with her even worse.

m 💌 Dios mio, and your mother was there too. I'm so sorry, Y/n.

you it's okay misa, you're a passionate person and are loud and fierce when you love. never apologise for it, because it's the very thing i love about you. i would never expect you to change your ways for anyone. i know you've been upset, and i'm sorry that it's not something i could control. but alexia has every right to feel that way, we should’ve handled it differently... told her sooner. i could see it hurt her when she realised mama and alba already knew. we've owned up to our mistake, but she needs some time to come around and forgive us, accept this is happening. she will, in time. that's just her. she's known you for a while and now i'm with you... she needs time to adjust not only seeing you as her friend, but as my girlfriend too. she feels a little awkward. i don't know what you said, but that probably didn't help her feel comfortable about the entire thing. no matter how much it worked me up seeing you that way.

m 💌 I'm not that kind of person to talk that way about women. Or about you.

you i know, amor. you but what did you say to her?

m 💌 I asked her if she was ready to take it, if she was sure, just normal talk to get her off focus, you know? It wasn't meant as anything personal, but then she returned the question, but about you. Asked me if I was sure about taking it while you were watching. I said that it would only help me do better. Then she asked me if I was sure I was good for you.

you you are, please don't ever doubt yourself. you so so so so are.

m 💌 I tried to, but it just hit me the wrong way. So then the whole tone changed but everyone was watching so we tried to keep it lowkey, but it was so hard. I asked what kind of sister would say such a thing when you're clearly happy with me. Probably got a little cocky and said you'd come to me when I saved it, not to her, especially after her recent behaviour with you. I might have implied something would happen tonight between us if I saved it, though. That you were mine now. And I hate myself because I keep hearing the way I sounded while saying it and it disgusts me and I made it worse and I would never talk or think about you like property but the way she looked at me and said those things I just really wanted to hurt her back and I knew that would do it. I fucking hate and regret it.

you easy, misa, i know, love. it's okay. i know you don't see me that way, you've never treated me as such. but it's happened, don't dwell on that. we can think of how to fix things now, okay? you but what did she whisper in your ear when she collected the ball from the goal?

m 💌 It's fine, don't you worry about it, querida.

you you don't have to protect me from it, you know? it's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but i'll ask ale about it either way. i want to know what hurt you so badly, and don't even deny it. i know you. whatever she said, don't take it to heart. not going to lie, you probably hit some vulnerable spots. i'll explain later why alexia's extra aggy about it all. but we need to talk about this, the three of us. and you two need to make up too. i'll coax up to her first or things might get even worse. going to her and olga's place rn.

you listen to me, everything will be okay, babe. vale? i love you.

m 💌 Yo tambien ❤️ you you can make yourself welcome at my place. dinner's in the fridge. you oh WAIT m 💌 Patiently 😇 you DON'T eat my cannoli!!!!!!!!!!!!!! m 💌 I was kind of planning on doing exactly that tonight... with your permission, of course 😉 you fuck you i love you 😩 m 💌 I love you more.

you and about that me being yours thing, if you ever say that again, i will jump your bones.

m 💌 You better hurry up then.

m 💌 But be safe.

m 💌 You're my everything. And I really love you. Can you please never forget that?

Delivered

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↳ 49min ago: alexiaputellas added to their story

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Text Messages

○○○○○○○ ale🐻 Home? you home! ale🐻 Safe? you and sound ❤️ ale🐻 Wish you could have stayed a little longer but today was... overwhelming and I'm spent. you it's okay, ale, everything's good again, yea? ale🐻 With you, always. Just give me a little more time. It still hurts a little, I wish I had known sooner. For what it's worth, I think you've found yourself both a best friend and a lover in her. I'm happy for you. you really? ale🐻 Yes, of course. I'm sorry my behaviour lately has made you question that. ale🐻 I realise it wasn't fair of me to not give you the freedom to decide your own life. You're your own person, no longer the little pigtailed pipsqueak hanging onto my neck with all your million questions all the damn time jaja. you don't think the pigtails will make a comeback, but i'll happily tackle your back for piggyback rides again? ale🐻 Please ❤️ ale🐻 But when you got so hurt last time around, we lost you. Lost the smiley you. The giddy you. The hermanita we knew. We couldn't reach you and that was really scary. I didn't know how to help and was not always around because of football. It's still one of my biggest regrets. I guess I'm just scared of you ever losing yourself like that again because someone broke your heart, so anyone who gets close to you like that... well, I don't like them or want them around you. But that was never fair of me. Because that was also going against what I want, which is you at your happiest. ale🐻 But when Misa made that comment before the penalty, she just sounded a lot like... you my ex. ale🐻 Si. I hate how I accidentally heard your ex talk about you like that, but then I hate it even more that that was normal for you... day in, day out. And then I hate myself again for not realising sooner and having pulled you out of that environment the second you started dating. If only I'd been around, I would've seen through her the second we met. I'm so sorry. you Don't be. She played it well. But I don't want to talk about that. What's done is done. I'm sorry you felt like that. ale🐻 Don't apologise for someone else's behaviour. ale🐻 Anyway, it was stupid for me to take out my frustration on Misa. If I hadn't, she wouldn't have caught my bait. I know Misa's not like that. It was just a little bad-mouthing to get the nerves up. But she hit me exactly where it hurt. Don't think she realised. you she does realise. she doesn't know why it hurt exactly, but she feels bad and wants to apologise. face to face. can she? not tonight of course. go get your sleep now. you just, one of these days? please. you i want you two to get along again. i don't want our relationship to ruin your friendship just as much as i don't want you to hate my girlfriend. ale🐻 Vale. ale🐻 You love her, and I've loved her as a friend before she meant something to you. I'll try, okay? you you sound a lot like mama you did she give you a lecture after the game? ale🐻 😣 you how are your ears? still hurting from the pinching? 🤣 ale🐻 I'm too tall for that now , she can't reach me😁 ale🐻 But it's okay. Go to sleep, laelia 😛 ale🐻 I love you. you i love you too you and i'll never not look up to you ale🐻 And I promise that from now on, I'll never not be here for you 😘

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enjoy your week lovelies 🌻

#misa rodriguez x reader #woso social media au #woso x reader

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