#I feel like the tea/coffee thing has been said before so sorry if it has but I literally do that too

[finnpeach]

Someone who always drinks coffee and only drinks tea when they feel unwell being found out by an observant work crush.

Person A coming into the office one morning, expecting to see their attractive work crush B with their usual coffee order (iced oat milk latte, two pumps of caramel), but instead sees them steeping a bag of tea in a mug.

"What's that?" A asks, taking note of a tissue poking out of B's pocket.

"Oh, it's, uh... tea." B looks a little embarrassed.

"Uh-huh. You feeling okay? You only drink tea when you're sick." A knows them too well.

B clears their throat. "Just a little cold out today, is all."

A nods, deciding to drop it, and sits diagonally across from B to start work.

As the day drags on, B's cold makes itself more apparent. They're snuffling into tissue after tissue, whisking off to the hallway to blow their nose. And the sneezing. It starts as soft, rapid stifles: "H'NDKT'uh! H'GXTsh! Hihh... H'GDTShh!" That leave their nose streaming, sniffling, and with a pounding headache. They always catch them off guard and never seem to have time to cover. A blesses them each time, wondering how long B is going to last with this miserable, snotty cold.

After lunch, B returns looking absolutely exhausted. They have given up trying to stifle and have decided to wear their scarf in the office even though the heating is on. The sneezes come practically every two minutes like clockwork, followed by liquid sniffling and tired nose blows.

They're both in the middle of the same web meeting when the next round of sneezes hit. A is able to watch B, both on the screen and in front of them at the desk, as they rush to hit the mute button and succumb to the fit.

"H'uSSHhhiew! Hh'ITSShhh'ih! Huh'iTSSHhh'ue!" They're too late for the tissue and sneeze uncovered towards their computer, creating a contagious mess. The sneezes are wet and spray the keyboard, the desk, everything around them. Person A is absolutely mesmerised by their sneezy cold and thanks god that this meeting is recorded. B blows their nose into a tissue and drench it immediately. A watches them on the screen and counts three, no, four tissues until B is finally done.

They privately message B, 'Bless you x' to which B blushes and hearts the message. B writes back 'Don't bother, I'm going to sneeze again soon 🤧', and true to their word they sneeze again ten seconds later. "H'ihhSHHhhiew!"

At the end of the day, when they're packing up to leave, A stops by B's desk and leans against the desk.

"Are you ready to admit you're sick yet?" A teases, watching the feverish flush on B's face burn brighter.

"I... mbay have caught a little cold." They sniffle and rub at their nose, looking sleepy and exhausted. "I really dod't feel good."

A pencil rolls off their desk as they pack away their laptop.

"You don't say." Person A crouches down to pick up the pencil, and is nearly face-to-face when B's breath starts to hitch. There's no time to move out of the way.

"Huh'uSSHhhh'ue! H'utsschhiew!" The warm, sickly spray hits the lower half of A's face as they rise up. B doesn't seem to notice, too exhausted to do much more than sneeze and snuffle as they dig out a tissue. Their breath hitches erratically, eyes pinched shut. "H'UDTSShHhhue!" The final wet, unrestrained sneeze is only halfway caught in the tissue. A few droplets spray A's arm. Any hope of not catching B's cold is completely gone now.

"Doesn't sound like a little cold to me," A chides, helping them stand up. "C'mon, I'll buy you another tea before you go home. And I better not see you in the office tomorrow." With how contagious their sneezes are, A doubts that they'll be in tomorrow either. They walk together out of the office and to the nearest coffee shop, B sneezing and sniffling as they go.

[womenloverlmao]

Baby - Spencer Reid Blurb

Summary: Reader calls Spencer ‘baby’ for the first time.

Growing up in the South, you were used to being called things like baby, sugar, darlin’, sweetheart everywhere you went. You ended up picking up on that habit, too. You would call everyone around you things like that, sometimes people wouldn’t understand it. That was a specific problem when you moved up North.

Virginia was the fine line between south and north. Too northern to be southern, too southern to be northern. They were friendly enough, but not that friendly. Especially with you, and you were relatively young. It was kind of unconventional for you to do that.

You generally didn’t care, unless someone told you they didn’t like it. If they told you to stop, you would! You were friendly.

All that changed when you started talking to Spencer. He had never really been in love before, and you didn’t want to scare him away. He got flustered when he heard you say his name, how would the sweet boy react when you called him a term of endearment? He would be a goner.

That’s when it slipped out.

You were a few weeks into your relationship, he wouldn’t technically be called your boyfriend, but you had gone on a few dates and his friends at work were starting to notice the change in his behavior. You spoke a lot. Almost constantly (ignoring when both of you were at work), you were either on call or something like that.

When you got invited to his apartment for the first time, you were so happy. (He was hella anxious though and rushed to clean everything up immediately worried about screwing things up with you.) You wore a cute enough outfit that didn’t look like you were trying, but enough so that he didn’t think you were a bum.

He made himself coffee in the middle of the day, and brought you tea, remembering that coffee made you feel nauseous.

“You remembered?” You asked. Of course he remembered, he has an eidetic memory shawty 😭

“Well, yeah. But it makes sense, I guess, coffee is…” he then proceeded to explain something that would make your aversion to the drink make sense.

“Wow, that’s… cool. Thank you, baby,” you said, without thinking.

He immediately turned red, and looked down.

“Shit, im sorry, I call everyone that,” you tried to explain.

“No- uh, don’t- don’t be sorry- it’s, it’s- uh, I liked- um, I liked it. I’d- I’d actually- actually like if you did it, uh, again.” Leave it to Spencer to stutter like that after just the smallest sign of affection.

“Fucking hell, I thought I was gonna scare you off, Spencer…” you almost laughed.

“Scare- scare me off? how?”

“Baby, you turn into a puddle when I say your name. I imagined that you wouldn’t even be able to function, and you wouldn’t know what to do if I called you anything else. I guess I was right in some way though…”

You would add the name in occasionally throughout the rest of the time there, and every time you said it he would turn red. He would get all smile-y though, because he knew something you didn’t. He wasn’t just baby, he was *your* baby.

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Imagine Zuko is working at the Jasmine Dragon and you are a regular :)

I love the small town coffee shop/ cafe feel, and when you throw in a romance trope- I will smother that MF in butter and eat it for my final meal. I love my grump x sunshine tropes, if you couldn’t tell. 

This one isn’t really following a proper timeline or story, cuz I’m not using Zuko and Irohs fake names and they really are just chillin in that tea shop for this story, BUT just a fluffy idea I really like. Anywho, fluffy and some steam ;) that gets steamy. (WINK WINK)

WC: ~2100 words

So let’s imagine…

Age of Admission: 18 and Wrinkled

Zuko is a server at the Jasmine Dragon tea shop owned by his Uncle Iroh. It became super popular very fast and you thought you would check it out. You walk in one morning and come to meet the owner, he introduces himself as Iroh. He is very kind and as you two talk, you find it is only himself and his nephew who work there. Iroh points out his nephew and when you turn to look where he motions, a figure disappears into the back. You thank Iroh for his kindness and say you cannot wait to come back. You would end up becoming a regular that would come in and read for a long time when the shop was quiet but leave when it got busy.

When you would come in, Zuko was always conveniently the one to help you. He would take your order, he would give you your tea and come by your table to check if you needed anything. He was nonchalantly cold to you but… not…? You would always smile and thank him and try to make small conversation, but Zuko never really engaged, he wasn’t rude and would agree with you then quickly move on. But over time, you noticed Zuko never stopped at any of the other tables to check on them, only yours. 

Over time it is very apparent that Zuko has the biggest soft spot for you but tries not to show it. He constantly stares at you, but glances away before he gets caught. Iroh obviously takes notice fairly quickly and tries talking with Zuko, but it is short lived. Iroh comments “You two would complement each other quite well. Not to mention the smile she brings out of you, now that's quite the achievement.” Zuko only rolls his eyes as he walks into the back. 

On another day you had been sitting for almost an hour finishing your second cup of tea, in the last few chapters of your book, Zuko was glancing at you from behind the counter as he dried a teapot. Iroh tried again, “You should talk to her.” Zuko visually tenses, “What?! No! What would I even say??” He said in a harsh whisper. “You are overthinking nephew, she always tries to spark a conversation, just let your conversation rivers flow and intertwine!” Zuko looked at him blandly, Iroh gave a soft smile, “A compliment can go a long way.” Iroh patted his shoulder and went to walk among the tables conversing with the customers.

One day you had stayed particularly later than you had thought as a rush didn’t happen and you were very into your book. Eventually Zuko walks over to you and places down a small dessert, it was some sort of pear tart. You smiled up at Zuko and thanked him for the kind gesture. “Yeah, we are closing soon and there happened to be some left that didn’t sell.” Zuko said. You shot up, not noticing the time, “Oh! I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize the time. Can I take it to go?” You say standing and gathering your things, you start apologizing for holding them up but Zuko was only half listening as he looked out the window at the dark street. He was worried about you being out so late and walking home alone. He cuts you off and insists it's fine and to wait till after they close and he would walk you home. Your heart flutters as it was something you knew you wanted but didn’t realize how badly. You smile and nod your head in thanks, but Iroh had overheard and insisted that Zuko could head out now as he could close himself. 

Zuko and yourself walked along the main street, the night was dark but the street lamps lit your way. You hold your book with both hands in front of you as you talk about what happened in the many chapters you read tonight. Zuko and you walk side by side, you smile as you explain the events, Zuko listens but is watching around for anything to be cautious of. You both make it back to your apartment and you thank Zuko for the kind gesture and offer him to come in. To your dismay he declines, you were sad as he turned away and waved goodnight, knowing it was out of good chivalry. After what felt like the longest walk home of his life, Zuko returns to the tea shop. Iroh welcomes Zuko back and asks how it went, Zuko snapped “Do you stick your nose into everyone’s business, or just mine?” Iroh looked at Zuko for a moment, “She asked you to stay, didn’t she?” Zuko scrunched his nose and didn’t reply, he walked back to his room.

You had come down with a cold and didn’t return to the tea shop for a couple days. But little to your knowledge, through those couple days Zuko found himself waiting for you to walk through the front doors. He found himself looking at the door every time someone walked through but disappointment cooling his veins when it wasn’t you. 

After almost a week goes by you show up again, Iroh welcomes you back warmly and insists your regular order will be out swiftly before walking into the back. You smile and take a seat, pulling out your book, not long after Zuko is at your table with your tea. Zuko makes a comment about your absence and you explain how you had gotten a cold and then tease him about missing you. Zuko starts to try and back track his comment, you can see a bit of embarrassment peek through as he tries to cover up his feelings that showed through his concern of you missing. You decide to take a leap and try to show him it's ok. “Well, I missed your company too.” you said warmly, as Zuko composed, someone walked in and up to the counter. Zuko added it was nice to have you back before heading to serve the customer.

A rush started that afternoon so you marked your place in your book, paid and left. You spent some time in the market and on your route home you passed the tea shop. You walked by slowly to see Zuko sweeping by the front door, he looked up and questioned why you were out so late. You smiled and explained about the market, told him about the shops and liveliness. While you were talking Iroh pops out from the back mid question for zuko, but pauses when he sees you. He exclaimed how nice it was to see you again with a warm smile walking to you and Zuko. You return the gesture and brief him about the market that you explained to Zuko. Iroh agreed it sounded fun and insisted You show Zuko, all closing was basically done and could finish up by himself. 

You and Zuko made your way to the market and walked around, there were many food stands, flower stands, jewelry stands, fabric stands, anything you name it was probably there. As you both walked and you talked, a cool breeze started setting in so you looped your arm through Zukos and walked closer to him, commenting on his warmth. Zuko only hummed and continued on with you, even though his heart was totally a butterfly exhibit at that moment. Once the market was fully explored, Zuko offered to walk you home again as it was very late and he should get you home.

Once again you both ended up on your apartment door step. You thanked him for a great night and him walking you back, you unlocked and opened your door, offering again for Zuko to come in. Zuko starts to insist he leaves but you cut him off with a kiss. Zuko was surprised for only a split second, but kissed you back, placing his hands on your waist. You pull away and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Please, stay for a bit”. He looked at you, “Are you sure?” he asked, keeping his hold on your waist, your shirt parted slightly from your pants and the warmth of his hand hummed against your skin. You held his gaze while you grabbed his hand, taking him inside. 

Once you were both in, you handed Zuko the keys, he closed the door and locked it. The second he turned around you moved in, you placed your hand on his jaw and chest. Zuko lavished in your kiss and put his hands on the small of your waist, bringing you in as close as possible. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, but craved more. You grab the bottom of his shirt and pull up, Zuko releases you and grabs his shirt, yanking it off quickly, returning to your lips. But this time his hands didn’t fall on your waist, they reached to the back of your thighs, hiking you up with ease as pleasant yelp of surprise from you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. The kiss was so hot you pulled away, your head falling to the side as Zuko moved to kiss your jaw and neck. “Zuko…~ah!” He hummed in response, “Zuko, bedroom… behind us…” Zuko promptly moves to the door you mention, pushing it open with his foot, stepping in and swiftly closing it with a firm but gentle kick.

Zuko set you down on the bed, you eagerly took off your shirt and you laid chest bare, not having worn underclothing today. Zuko’s hands were immediately on your torso, and chest. As Zuko kissed along your neck and collar bone, you scrape your nails down his shoulders and slide your hands along his arms, feeling the lean build of his muscle. Zuko asks if this is ok, what you both were doing, you wasted no time in confirming you were more than ok with it. You grab the waist line of his pants and pull him close, he grunts and pushes himself further against you, you gasp. Zuko goes to remove your pants, you raise your hips to quicken the process. You now laid bare before Zuko, everything for him to see. You could feel the vulnerability creep in and the natural urge to cover, but you knew you were comfortable and this is what you wanted. Your hands worked his trousers and slid them off. Zuko stood proud as he hovered over you, laying between your legs. Anticipation slid around your stomach, you kissed deeply, you could feel Zuko at your entrance, you gasped. He leaned back and looked down at where you met, grinning. Pushing forward slightly, his head pushing against your kitten. “~mmh… ah!” You moan out as he pushes further in, Zuko lets out a breath as he rests on elbows over top of you. He pushes in all the way and an audible gasp leaves your mouth as you could swear he hit an organ. He pulls out and slides back in, in the most devilish way of feeling like he is hitting deeper with every thrust. Your eyes roll back as his hips move in the perfect way, feeling his skin against yours, his muscles move against your body. Zuko puts his arms under your knees and spreads your legs wide and pushes them up, giving him better access as well as deeper penetration, which is baffling to you in that second until he continues. Now nothing is going through your mind except Zuko's breath and your moans in the air. You felt a knot in your stomach form, you tapped on his shoulder and told him you were close. He groaned and kept going as you fell apart under him, almost reaching his peak as you became so sensitive you couldn't contain the moans coming from you. But before you could think, he was about to climax. Zuko cursed and pulled out, cumming on your stomach. You both are absolutely racked from the events, Zuko takes a deep breath in, kisses you and says he will be right back. He comes back with a towel, cleaning you up and laying next to you. 

You lay on his chest and relax, both being out of breath, Zuko said something that shocked you. He exclaimed how he missed you the week you were home sick, and not at the tea shop. You smiled sweetly and cuddled closer to his warm body, explaining how everyday you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.

[blimpintime]

a jar of wind

part two

Wynnie Lara is a fairy that was saved from a jar from Amarantha's reign of terror, but is soon figuring out that her time of peace is coming to an end.

warnings: none besides being slightly unedited.

word count: 1.4k

4 months later 

Dearest Wynnie Lara,

I hope you are doing well, we miss you very dearly in the Night Court but understand you leaving after such harsh things were spoken to you. I wanted to invite you to Nyx’s first birthday celebration. He does miss you so much. (As do we).

After finding out what Azriel and the other two had said to you I almost blew up their homes with the help of my sisters. 

Elain misses you very much, even though she writes letters to you weekly, you and her seemed to help each other heal after everything happened to you both. She won't tell anybody where you have gone so I will be handing this letter to her in hopes it reaches you. 

We miss you so much, and I hate that the boys said those harsh things to you for no reason. You are not a bother, or suffocating, you light up every space you go into which is so refreshing, I do not want you to feel forced to come home (Nesta feels otherwise, she misses you so much she almost started a war with another court in search of you.) But we do want you to know you do have a home here. No matter what. I know Rhys feels devastated with how the situation turned out, even though it is partially his fault.  I want to make it clear how sorry we are for their actions and that we adore you. 

Lovingly, 

Feyre

I crumple the edges of the letter with tears streaming down my face, with a shaking breath I fold the letter gently and put it back into the envelope. I set it with the piles of letters Elain has sent to me on my coffee table. I wipe my face and head over to my rough looking door of the tree house that I am living in and latch it. This area of the Autumn Court has always been on the poorer side but it was home. Growing up with no family and moving around as a fairy was never safe, so before Amarantha’s reign I settled in this area of Autumn. 

Having not been to this home in two years it took a while to get it back into shape, cleaning and removing critters that have turned it into their home while I was gone. I have wind chimes and wards surrounding this home just like my other one, the difference here though is the Autumn wind is much more soothing for me then in any other court. It’s almost like my soul knows it's safe here. 

I have my wind playing soothing music with the small instruments placed around the open room. Candles lit and windows open for the utmost ambiance while I research different wind patterns.

I hear one of my chimes go off near the front door that catches my attention, I get up from the table and walk back to the door.  Frantic knocking is what I hear once I get to the door itself, I rip it open to see what is wrong. 

“Miss Wynnie!” with a sob, and I look down to see one of the kids I help take care of from the children’s shelter near my tree house. Little antlers poke through his red hair, and tears stream down his tanned face as he launches towards me. 

“Oatie what is the matter?” I say and crouch to his level. I put my hands on his shoulders to sooth him and look him in the eyes.

“Those mean guards are back at the shelter, they are demanding more money.” Oatie is a twelve year old boy who had to grow up quickly due to being an orphan partially under Beron’s rageful reign, but he was still a gentle soul. Things have started to get better slowly with the new High Lord, but it is a slow process when the court has so much hate built in. 

“Okay sweet boy, it’s going to be alright. Go curl up on the couch with a book and some tea and I will go take care of this okay?” I tell him with a soft voice. He nods and heads off that way. Once he is settled on the couch I fix my dress, and re-braid the two long braids under my bob and fly off the balcony.

When I arrive at the shelter there are two guards yelling at the volunteer on duty at the shelter. With a burst of wind I separate them from the worker, and land in front of them. I motion for the worker to go inside.

“What is the issue here?” I bark at them, their heated eyes turn to me.

“They owe us money for protection.” The one on the right says with a grunt.

“That’s your job. The High Lord literally pays you to protect the people. So that was the wrong answer, do me a favor and try again.” I say while rolling my eyes and shifting my weight to one hip. 

“You bitch.” One says and I let out a laugh with a clap of my hands. I know I probably shouldn’t egg them on but it’s so easy. As I am about to respond they both seem to stiffen and look behind me.

“Well that’s no way to speak to a lady.” I turn to face the new voice, which belongs to High Lord Eris, who recently has had his hair trimmed since the last time I saw him. 

“She is barely a lady, my lord.” One said with a snicker. I respond with a glare and a large gust of wind knocking them both over.

I turn to face Eris completely and give him a graceful curtsy grabbing the edges of my green dress. To which I receive a sucking of the teeth sound from him.

“Wynnie dear, stand up please. You don’t have to bow to me, we are old friends.” He says with a soft smile. The two guards seemed to have disappeared leaving the two of us alone. I straighten and glow a soft pink with a cheeky grin say,

“Yes, well, I have to show my respect My Lord.” He chuckles and makes a small lunge toward me, so I float backwards and he narrowly misses me. 

“You’ll have to be quicker than that to catch me sir.” He grunts a small breath and lunges towards me again. And I am suddenly reminded of when we were younger.

“Eris! Where are you?” I yell knowing he is hiding behind one of the trees with his hounds. 

“Got you!” I hear from behind me and feel my waist being pulled into someone's chest. I look up over my shoulder and see Eris with a wide grin. I pout at him. 

“That’s not fair.” I whine. “You know I am afraid of your pups, they think I am a big bird waiting to be hunted.”  He laughs in response. 

“I would never let them hurt you Wynnie Lara, I would never let anyone hurt you.” He said softly. “You are my only friend in this wretched court. I will burn it down to protect you.” 

“Eris that is sweet but, you are an heir would that not be counterproductive?” I ask teasingly but my skin glowing a bright warm orange with endearment. 

“Not for you Wynnie.” He says.

“I can’t stay in this area long, but I did want to invite you to dinner soon.”  He tells me when we both are sitting on the forest floor. Me on a rock with my wings glowing and him leaned up against it. My hands naturally find his hair and gently run my fingers through it. 

“I would love to.” I tell him, “I might visit the Night Court here soon.” I say with a whisper.

“Oh?” He asks me softly.

“Nyx is turning one and I miss the girls a little bit.” I responded.

“Yes, that's understandable. I still am beyond livid for how you were treated there.” He says back with a huff. And I laugh a little, “You and me both.” 

“I will have to send you with a gift, hmm?” He tells me. 

“That would be very kind of you, my lord.” And in response I get him standing up and pinching my sides. 

“Mercy! Mercy!” I say in between giggles. 

“Alright Wynn. I will send a letter for dinner when you return. Be safe and have a good night.” He tells me with a pat to the head and soft voice. 

a/n: soooooooooooo what do with think???

I am a sucker for soft Eris omggggg. Please if any questions please let me know!

I am trying the taglist I hope it works lmao

taglist: @cazrielsfairygf @buckyloki888 @litnerdwrites @the-fandom-ness @booksbypisces @nerdyalmondlawyerauthor

[sugurufic]

The Girl at the Cafe

Fushiguro Megumi x F!Reader

(megumi is such a babygirl and i love the violin scene so here it is)

Word Count: almost 1k

Content Warnings: none, just fluff

masterlist

Megumi has been seeing this girl daily now, sitting in the corner with a tea in her hands, looking out the window. Megumi sees you daily, and you see him too, but he has never had the courage to ask your name. He thinks you look beautiful, and now he has been looking forward to seeing you in your spot rather than his black coffee.

Today is no different, he enters the cafe and sits down in his unassigned-assigned place and turns to catch a glimpse of you. But today, you aren't there. He checks the time on his phone, he is there at the usual time. Maybe you were running late, a hopeful part of him thinks. Maybe you have already left, the pessimist in him thinks.

He orders his usual coffee and a pastry to pass the time, but it's been over half an hour and there is still no sign of you. After an hour, he leaves the coffee not tasting the same without having you to steal glances at.

Right as he steps out, he spots Yuji and turns away, not wanting him to see his usually antsy face upset over nothing. 

He is glad he does, because he bumps into you - well you run into him - but he is delighted to see you though his face still has the signature frown.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you say, and Megumi is mesmerised by your voice, already feeling it seeping into his dreams. 

“It's alright,” He says, hands involuntarily reaching out to steady you. 

“Isn't it later than your usual time?” You ask. He can see the curiosity in your eyes and he is delighted that you recognize him - else he'd be making a complete fool of himself.

“Yeah, school,” He says with a sad sigh. “You're late too, what a coincidence.” Megumi opens the door for you, letting you pass before entering again.

“Fushiguro, Megumi,” He says when you give him your name. He tries saying it out once, loving the way it rolls off his tongue.

Megumi takes another pastry and his black coffee, not worrying about the sleep it is going to steal from him. It's not like he could sleep tonight either. The barista gives a knowing smile but she doesn't say anything. 

Conversation flows easily between you two, and you are quickly done with your beverages and pastries. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door again as you exit a shy smile on your face.

He's asking how you are going to go just as two pairs of arms are swung around him, embarrassment filling his whole body.

“Fushiguro-kyun!” Yuji and Nobora smother him with embarrassing questions about things that never happened, about the nights they shared together about the nice things he has said to them. He wishes the earth would split open and swallow him, he's sure he's red in the face and cannot bear to look you in the eyes. What kind of man would you take him for, after these idiots? He's fuming and ready to lash out at his friends only to be beaten to it again. By Gojo Sensei, of all people.

“Could you not touch him so casually, please?” Gojo says in a soft voice, before yelling, “You homewreckers!”

“Ah, well,” Megumi accepts his fate, ready to never show up in this cafe again, ready to disappear out of your sight and never seek anyone else out.

Gojo is standing elegantly, his blindfold gone and sunglasses in their place - his glowing blue eye teasing from under a lens. “Megumi-chan has violin practice with me now.” He says with all the dramatic flair he is known for. “Let’s go home, Megumi-chan. Today I will have you master Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

He is ready to split the sky and fly away, but then you start giggling at their theatrics. He thinks it is the prettiest sight he has ever seen, seeing you giggle like that, he wants to make that sound come from you all the time. It's a strange feeling, for he has never had the urge to make people laugh.

“You've got wonderful friends, Fushiguro.” You say, sounding out of breath. Your eyes twinkle with laughter and he knows he will never forget it.

An embarrassed smile makes its way to his face, and Yuji, Nobora and Gojo all step back, staring at him in horror.

“Megumi?” They whisper under their breath, eyes dancing between the two of you.

“Same time, tomorrow?” You ask, holding your hand out. Megumi is a little confused, but Gojo says, “Phone number, Megumi-chan,”

“Oh, right!” Megumi takes your phone and dials his number, a shy smile on his face. “Same place?”

“Do you have any better suggestions?” You ask, eyes sparkling. He cannot bring himself to look away, wanting to drink in each second he has with you.

Megumi watches you walk away, he thinks you have an amazing walk - taking the runway straight to his heart. He's so blissed he's even forgotten his embarrassing friends, who had been suspiciously quiet all this time. The satisfied smile on his face quickly turns to a scowl as he turns, Yuji, Nobora and Gojo all with wide grins on their faces. And suddenly he can feel all his fury returning.

“What the hell was all of that?” He demands, not quite loud, but still sounding outraged. And he's surprisingly vocal about it too. “Gojo-Sensei, violin?  Really? Do you even play violin?”

“Fushiguro's got a girlfriend!” Yuji ignores all of that, right back to his bubbly self. Megumi hates Yuji so much at the moment, and his resting face reflects that, but he also thinks, if you two were to date - you’d better get used to his friends' antics.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | Changes

What do you do when the person you once were becomes the person you miss being the most?

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, no smut in this I'm sorry pls still read it :( there's some tension tho!!

Length: 6.5k words

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"Thanks for picking him up." Taehyung sighs, his son happily in the living room, taking a nap from school as he tucks himself in on the couch while his favorite show plays on the TV.

"I would've asked her, you know, but I feel like I'm relying too much on her again." The young father sighs. "I'm basically treating her the same as I did years ago, just without the pay."

"I heard about that." Jungkook says, drinking his coffee at the kitchen table where he sits across Taehyung. "She used to nanny while you lived separately from your wife, I think it was." He hums, setting his cup down. Jungkook isn't on bad terms with Taehyung's wife- but he tends to not say her name, because he honestly harbors quite a bit of distaste towards the woman who refuses to properly take care of her own child.

"Well don't you seem to know a bit about her now." Taehyung squints his eyes in suspicion. "What happened to 'she's too young for me anyways' huh?" He teases, and Jungkook sighs.

"Well, things.. happened. And we talked." He shrugs. "We're not.. really a couple, but we agreed to spend time with one another." He explains.

"So you're friends with benefits?" He wonders, drinking his tea while Jungkook leans back.

"No." He shakes his head, even though deep down, it does kind of feel like that to him, now that he thinks about it a bit more. "It's.. a bit more complicated than that. We're simply talking, seeing where it goes." He says.

"Hmhm." Tae nods. "Just don't break her heart. I still got basically nightmares from her last relationship." He mumbles a bit angrily to himself, clearly a bit irritated even just by the thought of it.

"I.. wondered what happened." Jungkook says. "Dae said he was a drinker?" He wonders, and Taehyung nods.

"Drinker, druggie, abusive asshole." He huffs, crossing his arms. "It's the main reason she moved away when Daehyun was younger. She wanted to protect him- make sure he won't get hurt."

"Was he violent?" Jungkook wants to know, because honestly, he has a hunch that that might've been the case. Taehyung seems on edge now, clearly torn between probably saying the truth, and respecting your privacy. "I was intending to ask her anyways. But she seems like the type to downplay her problems in order to make things seem less serious, so I thought you might be more honest." He adds.

"Yeah, she is like that." Tae agrees softly. "I'm not too sure what exactly went down. But I do know that she.. distanced herself out of fear that Daehyun might get hurt." He tells his friend. "Greg started to pick her up every time she'd babysit Daehyun at my house, even after I told him I didn't like that. He still did, still argued, turned up drunk multiple times at my doorstep." The young father remembers. "I kept her with me, of course. I'd never let her drive home with that alcoholic- but I guess something must've happened because she just.. suddenly cut contact." He shrugs. "Sent me a text, changed her number, moved out her old apartment."

"When did she come back?" Jungkook wonders.

"According to Yoongi, a few weeks before the aftershow party." Taehyung responds.

"So that's why you didn't recognize her?" He figures, and Tae nods.

"She changed a lot. Not just visually. She's.." His eyes lower to the cup in his hand. "..a lot more quiet. Cautious. Jumpy." He informs his friend. "And at the same time, she seems to mask a lot of it- get's irritated easily. She's trying to be who she was, but it's obvious that something changed, and whenever someone notices, she becomes defensive."

Jungkook doesn't really know what to think. Looking at Daehyun on the couch, he can absolutely understand your standpoint back then to get away from Taehyung's family in order to protect them- but that means there must have been at least some form of fear against your former partner to make you believe that he could potentially be a danger to the young boy and his father. It could also just be jealousy, of course- but Taehyung is right. You are a little odd sometimes.

And he doesn't know if he wants to know exactly why, or if he wants to let sleeping dogs rest.

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Jungkook leans back in his office chair, headache already almost too unbearable to him, especially considering the woman who's making her way up in the giant corporate building to see him.

She wants money again, he knows it. Evelyn only ever visits him if there's something she wants, after all.

"One might argue they'd know me by now." Evelyn huffs as she enters the office, hair a bit wet as she throws her coat over the chair in front of his desk, before she sits down. "How're you doing?" She wonders, and Jungkook doesn't look away from his laptop's screen whatsoever, still looking through his e-mails. He doesn't have to put too many thoughts into this conversation after all- she's most likely just here to leech off of him again.

"Cut it." He simply says. "What do you want?" He asks, phone on his desk vibrating and chiming with a new notification.

'I can just drop something off for you? I just got off work myself, so it's no hassle.' your message reads, an answer to a former rant from him about his headache, and the fact that he's 'locked in like a dog' in his office and without any proper food ever since this morning. It makes him softly smile a little, the fact that you want to bring him something to eat even though you're probably exhausted from your shift as well is something he's not used to. And he didn't even have to ask for it.

'Only if it's really not an issue for you' his answer reads, and you send a thumbs-up emoji as an answer, before you finish typing your proper answer.

'DW, is anything okay or do you want something specific?' you question, and he immediately types a response.

'Just whatever, really. Nothing too spicy though, please.' he offers, when a hand knocks on the table in front of him, the woman in his office dragging him back into reality with force. He signs, locks his phone before he puts it down, opening a chat with the front desk downstairs to let them know to bring you up when you arrive.

"You know, this was always the issue, Jungkook." Evelyn whines, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed. "You're so consumed by your work, it's crazy." She shakes her head.

"That wasn't work, actually." He bites back with a monotone voice, not really offering her any emotion whatsoever- there's nothing left in him anymore he could offer anyways. She took it all, sucked it out of him like an insect, and now she's constantly upset that he's empty inside.

"Anyways, I got this letter recently stating that there was an issue with the bank transfer?" She says, giving him the letter to read- which he does, flying over it just to remember why that bank transfer did not go through. "I told them that they'll get their money by friday." She hums, leaning her face on her palm while he gives her the letter back.

"What do I have to do with it then?" He asks, and she sits upright again, tilting her head a bit in irritation. "You said they'll get their money by friday. Good. Why are you here then?" He asks, arms crossed, office chair squeaking a bit as he leans back into it.

"Well, it's your bank account!" She laughs a bit unsure. "I don't even know why there was apparently not a sufficient balance on it." She argues.

"I resigned the automatic transfer rights." Jungkook tells her, face not moving an inch as he breaks the news. "The letter doesn't mention an insufficient balance at all, Evelyn. It states that there's no bank account set for the automated transfer option at all." He informs her.

"What the fuck Jungkook?!" She barks. "And you didn't even tell me?!" She yells, standing up to slap her hands on his desk. "You can't just make these changes and not inform me about it! Do you know how expensive that was?!" She accuses, and he shrugs, noticing something move behind her, milky glass front of his office hiding what's going on inside and outside, only letting shadows be seen if someone's close enough. "I'll text you the invoice later, and you better fucking pay, you asshole!" She says, when she whips her head around, someone opening the glass door.

"Thanks." You tell the office lady having let you in, before your eyes widen, door closing behind you and instantly drowning out all noise except the very slight sound of the fan in the corner of the room.

"Ah, there you are." Jungkook sighs, suddenly feeling a lot lighter as he looks at you. "Come here- is it still raining a lot?" He wonders easily, taking the white plastic bag from you to set it on his table, before giving you a small hug to greet you. "I think that was all you wanted, wasn't it?" He asks Evelyn, who hasn't even gotten up from her seat, instead clearly studying you now.

"Actually, no." She tells him. "And it's kind of private, so it would be real nice if your assistant would leave." She tells you with a smile that reminds you of a snarling dog.

"Then come back a different day." Jungkook answers her however, offering to take your coat from you to hang next to his own on the wall close to the large windows. "Right now I'm really not in the mood for whatever it might be. Especially not with my girlfriend in the room." He bluntly says, and something seems to flash over her face at the mention of your alleged role in his life.

She slowly stands up to take her coat from the back of the chair, movements a lot slower now, a glare sent into your direction. "Don't get your hopes up, sweetheart." Evelyn tells you, slipping into the sleeves of her coat. "His first love will always stay his job." She almost threatens, before she takes her purse and leaves through the door, leaving a confused you, and a clearly exhausted Jungkook behind.

"Please, sit down." He offers, and you do so, watching how he leans back in his chair, hands running over his face before he sits up again. "I'm sorry. That timing couldn't have been worse." He sighs.

"Ah, here. Do you have water here?" You wonder, and he nods, pointing towards a water dispenser in the room. "Oh, fancy." You laugh, walking up to fill a cup to put in front of him. "I take them myself, they usually help really quickly. Not trying to murder you." You tease, and he chuckles, taking the medication and the cup for himself.

"Thank you, really." He sighs out before taking the pill, washing it down with half of the cup's contents before he closes his eyes for a moment. "God I hate her so much." He suddenly breaks out laughing, before he shakes his head, digging through what you've bought for him.

"I assume that was your ex wife?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I'm also really sorry for telling her you're my girlfriend when we haven't even talked about that yet." He tells you a bit.. shyly almost, while you pull the bag closer to take something out for yourself.

"It's fine." You shrug. "Got a nice ring to it, you know?" You joke, and he smiles, starting to eat.

It's quiet, but not oddly so. He enjoys this a lot, this company without any pressure, no eerie sense of something being about to happen. You're clearly here because you want to be, there's nothing you want from him, nothing you need, nothing you could gain from this. It's just what it is, nothing else, nothing to red between the lines.

"You can ask why she was here, by the way." He offers you, wiping his mouth with a tissue.

"I don't have to know." You say, however. "It's got nothing to do with me- right?" You ask, and he nods. "Then it's none of my business. You can rant to me about it, sure, but I can't really give you any opinions on it since I don't really know her, or the situation around you and her." You tell him.

Jungkook watches you for a moment, before he nods. "You're right." He agrees, letting go of the topic entirely for now. He know it's only fair to talk to you about it at some point- but right now is not the time for that, he decides. "Do you want me to drive you home later? I really only have to answer this one E-mail and then I can clock out." He tells you between bites, wiping his fingers before he taps away on his keyboard.

"If it's not a bother, sure." You shrug. "You said you got the weekend off, right?" You ask him, and he nods a bit absentmindedly. "Then how about you stay over?" You ask, and that definitely seems to catch his attention.

"Stay over?" He asks, just to make sure he heard it correctly, and you nod.

"Yeah." You nod. "It's, you know, what boyfriends do with their girlfriends." You tease, making him roll his eyes. "We could cook something, watch a movie. Oh, and one of the lightbulbs in my kitchen broke, so maybe you could fix that for me?" You chirp, and he suddenly smiles brightly to himself, clicking something on his laptop before he shuts it down. "What's that grin for, mister?" You ask, and he just shakes his head.

"Nothing, really." He tells you. "I'm just really happy." He confesses, and you smile the same, now a bit shy.

"Well, what's your answer then?" You wonder, watching him pack the leftovers back into the bag, before he walks to get both his and your jackets, helping you into yours.

"My answer is yes." He says, voice very close to your ear as he leans over your shoulder from behind you, hands on your arms for a second. "I'd love to stay over and fix that lightbulb too, of course.-"

"Since I heard that's what boyfriends do with their girlfriends."

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"There we go." He says, slowly climbing down the plastic kitchen chair you're holding onto just in case. "Anything else while I'm here?" He genuinely asks, and you shake your head, moving the chair back to the small kitchen table.

"No, that was all. Thank you, really." You say, before you move to open the fridge, taking out some things while he stands around with his hands in his pockets. Your apartment is pretty small- living in it together with you would most likely prove to be way too much, but he still thinks it's better than his own, in terms of.. quality.

His own home feels empty. There's nothing in it, it's way too big for a single person, and the view from so high up above the clouds has long lost it's charm to him.

He sits down at the kitchen table, leaning on it a little as he watches you wash some vegetables before you grab a cutting board and a knife. "Daehyun said you're a little lonely without your dog." He says, and you giggle a little, smiling to yourself. "Have you considered getting another one?" He wonders, but you just shrug.

"I'm too busy at the moment." You deny. "I used to bring him to work with me, since he was a very quiet and calm dog, which fit perfect into our office." You remember. "He'd always sleep under my desk, right on my feet. Always kept them warm." You softly say, and he notices that he might've struck a still hurtful topic if only from the sound of your voice becoming somewhat tighter.

"I can imagine. I always wanted a dog too-" He sighs, leaning back. "But.. Evelyn, the woman you saw today, she doesn't like them. So it was out of the question."

"Really?" You wonder, cutting up the vegetables. "I mean, I guess, if both of you were really busy then it probably was for the best." You hum, tension leaving you again. "Gotta look at the bigger picture."

"Yeah, maybe it was for the best." He agrees. To be honest, Evelyn would've probably fought over the dog as well, just like she did over the apartment, and other more petty things like fucking furniture. She wanted to ruin him, if financially then emotionally, and somehow, she somewhat did.

It's quiet again, when you, surprisingly to him, cut into a topic he did not expect.

"His name was Greg." You say, filling a small pot with water before you place it on the stove, turning it on. "You probably talked about him with Taehyung."

"I did." He admits. "But there's not much I know." He offers. "And like you said about my situation, I don't have to know about things that don't concern me. However-" He begins, getting up to now stand closer, find your gaze that's turned downwards onto the cutting board. "-I don't want to accidentally do something that might make you uncomfortable due to past experiences." He says.

"What a tactful way to ask me if I've got any trauma from that guy." You chuckle, moving to put the cut up vegetables in a bowl before you continue the preparations for dinner.

"I'm trying to be gentle here." He attempts to lighten up the mood, and you indeed smile at that.

"And I'm very thankful for that." You offer him, before you sigh, setting down the knife. "I don't.. think we're at a point where I should be dumping all of what happened onto you." You inform him, and he nods, accepting that. "I don't like yelling. If I feel uncomfortable, I'll probably try and get myself out of a situation by any means necessary-" you admit, turning a little to look at him. "-and that will probably include some nasty words thrown your way, if that get's you away from me." You tell him. "And I don't like alcohol. Even if you hand me full on medical evidence that you can't even get drunk, the moment I smell it- I just can't trust you." You say, and he nods.

"Alright, I respect that." He nods.

"I'll also get pretty clingy over time." You add on, making him nod. "And I can be annoying. I'll text you a lot." You continue, and a small smile sneaks itself onto his lips as he shrugs, crossing his arms. "The moment you invite me into your home I'll practically steal half of your closet contents-"

"Is that what he told you?" He wonders, and you grow quiet, eyes avoiding him. "I'm obsessed with my work." He begins his own rant, standing up to walk closer to you. "I never have time for anything else. I'm boring. Sometimes rude, and immature. I'm a perfectionist, but I'm also lazy. I snore, and I work out too much to the point where I'm sweating buckets. I'm a little messy." He tells you, hugging you from behind, though not very intimately- giving you a clear way out if you so want to.

"…is that what she told you?" You answer, and he smiles.

"Let's just agree on getting to know each other just the way we are, not the way someone else described us in the past." He offers, and you nod.

"Alright." You hum, before you push him a little playfully. "Now go and let me cook in here, boyfriend." You tease, making him grin impishly, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he does not walk away from behind you, hands now flat on your ass. "Hey!"

"What? I'm out of your way like this." He tells you almost innocently, hands moving to hold your waist now.

"Sit down there and let me cook!" You laugh.

"But we wanted to cook together, no?" He wonders. "Like.. boyfriend and girlfriend." He leans his chin on your shoulder.

"Well, boyfriends let their girlfriends cook in peace." You threaten, making him chuckle as his fingers squeeze your hips a bit.

"Not if their girlfriend is this attractive." He purrs, making you roll your eyes.

"Jungkook…" You wonder, suddenly way more serious, making his stand up straight again so you can face him. "Is.. that what we are now?" You ask, and his lips part for a second, unsure of his own answer. "I mean, it's fine if we're just playing around. Just.. I'm scared that we might end up in some.. unnecessary drama down the line if we're blurring the lines too much without properly discussing things first." You say.

"What do you mean?" He asks, and you sigh.

"What if you end up calling me.. your girlfriend just as a joke? But I start believing it at some point- thinking we are something serious when we're not. Or the other way around." You explain. "I don't want us to get hurt again. Neither of us."

Jungkook takes a deep breath, and from this close proximity, you can make out two odd dots near his bottom lip you're not too sure of. You might ask him about them some other time.

"Let me take time off of work. Next week, three days." He offers, catching you off guard. "Let's go on a trip. Together. Someplace no one knows us, and we don't know either." He tells you.

"I mean- I would've had friday and the weekend off anyways but-"

"Okay, great, perfect. I'll cancel my Friday meetings." He tells you, hands moving- at first, they seem to attempt to hold your cheeks- but it's like that feels too intimate yet, so he settles for your shoulders. "Let's get to know each other. The real you and me that got.. buried at some point." He offers.

"Why on a trip?" You ask.

"Because it's perfect." He chuckles. "Close proximity of the hotel room we'll share, stress of navigating the unfamiliar environment, the tension of not being able to just 'escape' any uncomfortable situation right away forcing us to talk things out as they happen-" He begins, and your mouth shapes an 'o' as you realize what he's talking about.

"It's a stress-test." You say, and he nods, grinning.

"Exactly." He nods.

"…to be honest you're already stressing me out." You jokingly reply-

Jungkook laughing, and you have a feeling he's not done that in a long time, with the way his ears turn red and his hand covers his mouth in embarrassment of that outburst.

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When Taehyung opens the door, he instantly greets his son who Jungkook has put down the moment he'd noticed the young father arriving at the front door to let him in.

"Oh wow." Taehyung laughs as Jungkook walks in, almost nervously running a hand through his hair. "Is the world ending? Apocalypse? Or am I high?" He jokes, making Jungkook roll his eyes. "No, seriously! I didn't even know you could still put those piercings back in!" He laughs, taking Dae's school backpack to take out his lunchbox so he can sort out the leftovers and wrappers from his snacks.

"It was a bit tricky, I won't lie." He laughs a little. "But they didn't really close all that much since I had them for so long, so it wasn't a big deal." He shrugs.

"What's the occasion?" Tae wonders, throwing the wrappers of Daehyun's snacks in the trash. "You most certainly don't look like you're gonna go to a meeting like that. What happened to 'I'm not in my twenties anymore' huh?" He jokes.

"I'm honestly not sure." He answers, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Just.. felt like it. And I'm not going to the office- I took time off." He confesses.

"Okay, are you running a fever?" Taehyung asks, and Jungkook laughs to himself. "Are you gonna meet up with your.. friend?" He air-quotes, and Jungkook nods, checking the silver watch on his wrist.

"Yeah- we're meeting up later, she's currently packing her things last thing she texted me." He nods. "Our flight is in about three hours from now, but it's her first time flying, so we wanted to be there a bit early just in case." Jungkook shrugs.

"Oh, fancy." Taehyung laughs. "Why though?" He wonders, washing the colorful lunchbox of his son in the sink.

"Stress testing." Jungkook offers. "We just want to see if we can handle each other under pressure." He says, and Taehyung sighs.

"My god Jungkook, can you just once try and not make everything more complicated than it has to be?" He worries. "Just spend time with her. Go out for a coffee or something, watch a shitty movie at home and let her suck you off during the commercial break or something, you know, like NORMAL people!" He whines. "You're acting as if this is some million-dollar business discussion. It's really not." He huffs out in frustration. "Listen, I know Eve fucked you over bad, and honestly you've always had a shit-taste in women to begin with because holy fuck if I think back to Lucy-"

"Can you get to the point?" Jungkook complains, a little embarrassed as his friend brings up his admittedly terrible dating history.

"-yeah, sorry." He laughs. "But, trust me-" Taehyung says, drying his hands before he puts them on his friend's shoulders. "-she's honestly perfect for you. Once you help her get her confidence back up, trust me, you've got yourself someone who's not a raging cunt for once." He finishes his rant, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.

"You think?" He worries, and Taehyung nods.

"I do." He says, patting his friend's back before he leads him to his front door. "Be yourself. And I mean, your real self. Be that goofy dude who cries during disney movies and folds his laundry to Depeche Mode at 3 am."

"Why would I do that?" Jungkook cringes, thinking his friend is joking- but he's surprised to find Taehyung with a soft gaze instead, an encouraging smile on his lips.

"Because that's the Jungkook I know." He offers, a somber look on his face.

"And I miss him."

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"Let me take that." He offers, taking the suitcase from you. It's small, scratched up, and he can't help but notice the stickers on it. "You good to go?" He wonders, and you nod, closing the door before locking it, walking next to him out the apartment building towards his by now familiar car, his own luggage already in the trunk where he puts yours now as well.

The moment you sit next to him inside, is when you notice how.. different he is today. Not only from looks alone- but it feels different, oddly enough. Lighter. Not as serious as he usually is. "I wondered what those.. spots were." You say, looking at him from the passenger side, and he raises his brows while stopping at a red light, turning his head towards you, who points to your own lower lip.

"Ah, yeah." He chuckles, a bit bashful. "I.. got them done in my early twenties. Took them out though, because.. I don't know." He shrugs.

"You don't know, of do you just realize that the reason was stupid?" You giggle, and he sighs, with a smile on his lips however.

"Caught me." He confesses, changing lanes as he makes his way to the airport.

"Why'd you put them back in?" You ask, leaning against the car door a bit.

"Because I wanted to be myself." He explains. "I.. like I said. I want you to get to know me. And not the person I became to please others around me." He tells you.

"I assume your.. ex wife didn't like the piercings?" You ask, testing how far you can pry into his past and how much you can poke until he tells you off. But much to your surprise, he seems rather unfazed by the topic.

"She hated my tattoos as well. Wanted me to get them removed constantly." He chuckles, and you're intrigued.

"You've got tattoos as well?" You ask, and he nods.

"Maybe I'll let you see them later?" He flirts, and you grin to yourself, adjusting your legs a little as you stay quiet. "Either way, Evelyn didn't like a lot about me."

"Then why did she marry you?" You ask, noticing too late how mean that question could come off.

"Probably for my bank account." He simply laughs. "I was.. stupid. I thought she was fixing me." He shakes his head. "I thought she only had my best interest in mind." He says, setting his turn lights to enter the airport parking area. "But she always hated me. Still does." He sighs, searching for a proper parking spot.

"Well, I don't hate you." You tell him.

"Yet." He mumbles, before he finally parks the car, turning off the engine. "Do you have your passport and everything on hand? Don't wanna have to unpack everything in a rush later at check-in." He tries to change the topic, but you look at him with eyes so soft that he becomes scared of them.

"Jungkook." You say his name, and he hates how kind it sounds. "As long as you're not like him, I won't hate you. Honestly, I don't even hate him." You tell him, and he nods a bit stiffly, before practically escaping the car, instead putting on his jacket before helping you take out your suitcase and handbag.

Inside the airport, he notices your nervousness, hand constantly reaching out but never holding on to him at all, in any way. It makes him chuckle a little as he watches you fight with yourself for quite a while, before he helps you check in.

You're clearly a bit overstimulated by everything going on around you, looking around anxiously, biting the inside of your lips constantly, even as you both sit down to wait for your gate to open for boarding. "Hey-" He reaches out to tug your lip from your teeth with his thumb, before he smiles in reassurance. "Okay?" He wonders, and you nod, though you're not looking at him. "Come here. You can hold onto me, by the way, if that helps you." Jungkook suggests, and you move your arms to wrap around one of his, body scooting closer to lean your face against his shoulder, sweater soft against your skin. He moves his arm around your shoulders to keep you closer, hand offering itself for you to hold instead, and you do so, fingers cold. "What's that scar?" He wonders, thumb running over a faint scar over the palm of your hand.

"A shoelace." You say, a little quietly.

"A shoelace?" He repeats, and you nod.

"Yeah." You confirm. "I had.. I was in the midst of changing the laces of.. Gregory's boots, because the dog had chewed them. But he got mad anyways, and pulled them out of my hand." You remember. "It happened really quickly, but I remember that it hurt badly." You chuckle. "It was an odd pain. Like my body couldn't decide whether or not I was burned or cut."

Jungkooks hand on your shoulder starts to move a little in a soothing motion, fingers circling around. It's his first confirmation that something did indeed happen, and he's almost convinced that what you just told him was probably not an isolated incident, but simply one of many that went down during your entire relationship.

"I didn't want him to get mad at Yogi. He already hated the poor dog enough." You sigh, closing your eyes as you settle against Jungkook's side. He enjoys this close proximity, the domestic feel of this moment, even though it's out in public and for everyone to see. He doesn't care.

"You can heal with me, you know?" He says, and you look up at him from where you're leaning against his body. "I can't promise you that.. our time spent will be all smooth sailing, but I can assure you that it will be nothing like what you've experienced." He hums towards you.

And you smile warmly, sighing. "Don't worry-" you giggle, closing your eyes.

"-It already is."

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The hotel room is spacious, expensive looking, nothing like you've seen before.

Usually, you only really get to see things like these on vacation photos your friends show you- you yourself don't really travel, you technically don't take time off at all, rather always asking to have your off-days paid out instead if possible. You've got no reason to treat yourself with anything, be it time off or a full on vacation.

Your sense of self worth has shriveled up like rotten fruit over the years, now thrown out like the garbage it is.

Jungkook meanwhile clearly has a routine in him, as he walks through every room first to check if everything's okay, just to then place his bag somewhere near the bed, a big yawn escaping him as he opens the balcony door wide, letting the air of the seaside in. It's odd to see him dressed rather casual, simple but expensive sweater stretching over his broad back. His face still shows the clear stress he's accumulated, and it makes you wonder.

"Do you.. go on vacations often?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.

"No, usually I only fly out for business trips." He explains, watching you sit on the edge of the twin-sized bed. "I originally thought I should book two single beds, by the way. I just.. thought it might be more intimate like this." He tells you, leaning against the small balcony's edge outside, glass door open, as the wind blows through the curtains a little.

"It's okay like this." You nod, making him smile softly.

"Do you want to rest a little?" He asks, and you shrug, unsure. You only have three days- if you sleep now, it's probably annoying to him since he most likely planned something on this trip for you both to do. He at least comes across as someone who likes to have everything set out and structured- not like you, who dives in head first without any real plan. You don't want him to stay hidden inside the hotel room just because you're tired from the flight. "Hey." He asks, and you didn't even notice him squatting down in front of where you sit, his hands on your knees as he finds your eyes from where he's looking up at you. "Don't hesitate to speak your mind. If we want this to work, we need honestly, first and foremost." He encourages, and you nod.

"I'm tired- but I don't want to be boring." You worry.

"How would taking a nap be boring?" he chuckles. "I'm actually glad you're tired. I didn't want to come off as an old man who needs a break because he can't keep up." He laughs, standing up before he moves to lay down on the bed, patting the spot right next to him.

You lay down where he wordlessly suggested, taking in a deep breath while focusing your eyes on the collar of his sweater for a moment. It's when your gaze roams around that you notice something poke out on his wrist as he turns back around from removing his watch from the other arm. Your fingers curiously lift the fabric of the sleeve, making him chuckle quietly, before he moves to push the fabric up to his elbow, exposing different colors of ink underneath his skin.

What was Jungkook like when he was younger? Has he always been somewhat like this- or has he changed into this instead?

"Got them done in my early twenties too." He explains quietly. "Just.. lineart at first. Black and white." Jungkook remembers as he watches you trace some of the lines with your finger. "Then it got more. Over time, it looked a little messy- so I added color to it, this time actually going to a professional who specifies in forming sleeves." He tells you.

"Do you regret them?" You wonder. "Like.. your piercings and your tattoos?" You ask, and he shakes his head.

"It's not like I regret them." He denies. "I still like the look of them. The aesthetic of it. It's just.." He sighs, inked hand turning around palm up, and you put your own on top of his, making him move to compare your hand sizes palm to palm. "..they don't feel like me anymore." He shrugs.

"Maybe because they aren't." You offer, now holding his hand with both of yours, your eyes on the blurred ink underneath the skin. "Maybe.. you changed. Even though you didn't want to."

He did. He knows that he did- but what he struggles with, is the question if he can even go back now. He wants to, but at this point, he feels like he's crossed that line by now, too far to step back and take a different path. Most people around him nowadays only now this Jungkook, not the one he used to be. If he just reverts back to who he once was, will he lose every friendship and connection he's made after he married?

Marriage. The moment he changed.

Love can make someone truly blind to a lot of things. He overlooked so many warning signs, pushed old friends and even family away just because they saw what he did not- or more so refused to. He's not spoken to his own parents in years, by now too ashamed to admit that he'd been wrong for the entirety of his past relationship, that his mother was right about her. What would she think about you?

She'd like you, he's very sure about that. His father would probably be a little suspicious of the age gab, and his brother would most likely tease the living daylights out of him, but he knows you'd fit right in. Do you have a good relationship with your parents? What would they think of him?

He wants to ask you, but the moment he becomes aware and snaps out of his thoughts, your eyes are already closed, breathing even. You're still holding onto him, and he realizes that he's never actually had a moment like this with Evelyn in the past, not even when they were just a regular couple, and definitely not after they got married. He feels.. free. No pressure on him, no obligations awaiting him, nothing needed or expected from him. You're simply sleeping, and yet the act itself makes his pride swell, because of your display of trust towards him.

He knows you've been hurt. He knows that he's been hurt-

And maybe, just maybe, together, you can finally begin heal.

Change once more, for a final time, into a happier version of yourselves.

[two-white-butterflies]

invisible string | m33 | part two

Description: You face a career-ending injury, that forces you to give up your childhood dream. 7 years later, you return to the paddocks as a guest - and as the Team Principal of Prema Racing. What happens when feelings are too difficult to hide?

Pairing: max verstappen/racer!reader

part one | part three

(2022, PARTY AT THE HORNER YACHT.)

"L/N is such an overrated driver, she had one of the most successful engines - anyone could've piloted that thing." Christian chuckled while pouring his guests another round of wine. Max absentmindedly laughed at the joke - he didn't really hear the joke but he figured that it must've been hilarious for all the people around the table to laugh.

Kimi Raikkonen's eyes narrowed - searching the boat for drivers who didn't agree with Horner's statement. "It takes a hundred female pilots to be one man." Horner shrugged and the table erupted into another chorus of laughed. This time, Max wasn't laughing.

itsmee_yn: If suddenly you forget me, do not look for me - for I shall have already forgotten about you. (Pablo Neruda)

912 comments 321,238 likes

oleole: this is totally about max's new interview 😭 - whispersme9: WHERE? - oleole: the one w/ daniel in the redbull yt

ynworld: Some people deserve to be in the past, mother. - itsmee_yn: totally !

selenagomez: ❤️

nicorosberg: Let's talk about it over coffee? - itsmee_yn: you only talk to me when there's tea :(( - - nicorosberg: You know me so well haha

maxverstappen1: What's going on?

192 comments 126,283 likes

ynandmaxuniverse: the hoes are fighting 😭

danielricciardo: I DID NOT START THIS. 🤲🏼 itsmee_yn liked this comment.

formulaonegirlie: ya'll imma need a full article on what the fuck is happening 😢 ALSO QUOTING TAYLOR SWIFT? WHEN SHE'S Y/N'S FAVORITE ARTIST AND FRIEND.

itsmee_yn: Had so much fun with this family ❤️ I'm legally changing my last name to Raikkonen.

912 comments 238,212 likes

kimimatiasraikkonen: 👍🏻 - itsmee_yn: that means so much to me king 👑

nicorosberg: and you didn't invite me? - itsmee_yn: WHO R U? - - nicorosberg: You're new best-friend since the last one got evicted. 🤯 - - - itsmee_yn: NAH

sebastianvettel: Let's catch up soon! - itsmee_yn: u r automatically invited to my house sir

nicorosberg's story

caption: sometimes i wonder if she really hates the man, or if she really hates how she loves him. 🤦🏼‍♂️

replies

itsmee_yn: UR A 37 YEAR OLD BULLY 💀 itsmee_yn: U SHOULD LITERALLY GET OFF SOCIAL MEDIA nicorosberg: Why is your message blank? itsmee_yn: I'M TELLING KIMI THAT YOU'RE PUBLICALLY BULLYING HIS 1ST BORN DAUGHTER nicorosberg: publicly* itsmee_yn: GRAMMAR POLICE

itsmee_yn: 3 days before the Hungarian GP ✨

394 comments 458,238 likes

danielricciardo: You coming? - itsmee_yn: I have free tickets 😍

landonorris: OMG QUEEN WE HAVE TO MEET UP - itsmee_yn: ❤️

maxandynlover: Is the war over? CUZ... 😁

maxverstappen1: looking forward to it 😱

sabrinacarpenter: I was rooting for you sis 🙁 - ynprivateaccount: He has me weak on my knees 😭 - - sabrinaprivateaccount: old habits die hard 😢

(2022, HUNGARIAN GRAND PRIX)

"So, are you going to explain?" you placed both of your hands on your hips, staring at him with a glare that told him he wasn't going home scot free. "I talked to Kimi," he mumbled sheepishly. "I know that this isn't an explaination, but I want you to understand that I never meant to disrespect you in that way." he explained.

"Kimi told me what Christian said about you, and it wasn't funny. I shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry." he apologized, taking another step closer to wrap you in an embrace - but you step away. All your life, you've been told that a woman didn't have room in Formula One - and to hear your best friend laugh at those jokes? It was worse than losing your career.

"Am I supposed to believe you?" you frowned, unable to comprehend that he was telling the truth. "You don't have to - but I'm sorry." he breathed with sincerity in his tone. You wanted to believe him, but you needed more convincing.

danielricciardo's story

caption: who u talking to? @itsmee_yn

replies itsmee_yn: secret no clue danielricciardo: 🤣

taglist: @laura-naruto-fan1998 @eternalharry @milaeth @msliz @lifesuckslife @ellamae021 @1-800-simpingcowbaby @trashcanrat @ccallistata @shouq @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @georgeparisole @allenajade-ite @eternalharry @messwithtess21 @benbarneslut @withyoutilltheendofthismess @omgsuperstarg @stillbreathin @mishaandthebrits @lemonsinpanic @styles-sunflower @cassiesworldsworld @1655-1485 @hachrinnen @luanasrta @fdl305 @reidsworld @sarahedwards16 @peargasleeeee @imsorare @sinofwriting

COMMENT TO GET TAGGED

[slickfordain]

Can you do a genshin impact sagau headcannon where the reader has a cute sneeze and how everybody would react? Like imagine being in snezhnaya and sneezing because of the cold and the Tsaritsa and he harbingers blushing cuz our sneeze is so cute.

𝐀 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐳𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫

I’m sorry if Pantalone’s scenery was either short or smth,,, trying to get used to doing an F/O I really love x reader— I apologize man. It sorta aches my soul. Also,, you don’t really sneeze cute— it’s just the Harbingers finding your sneeze adorable. 💀

You were currently warming yourself up in Tsaritsa’s hideout currently. Why? And how?? Well, darling reader;; it’s because you wanted to test stupidly of how cold was Snezhnaya over the time you stood there with your winter clothes. Knowing Russia probably has the coldest areas, this shouldn’t be too different to affect you… And it did. Had it not been for Arlecchino and Tartaglia’s bickering whilst walking outside and then notice you, it would’ve ended up with a disaster of you turning into ice completely.

So, here you are, inside the “palace” and just… Curling yourself up in your blankets in your guest bedroom with your phone. You didn’t really know how you got infinite WiFi and battery, but hey, not like you’re complaining. It’s the best thing rather than having nothing. Right? And while you coze yourself inside the place of Harbingers, you made a deal to hangout with them since they seem so devoted to you. Which they are but… They take it sometimes, to the extreme.

Perhaps, let’s say you cuddled with Columbina once as she sung you a lullaby, with you playing on your phone. She thought this was your way of watching Teyvat, since you were playing “Games” she thought was your other “worlds”. Jealousy, she wraps arms around your waist more tightly, and nuzzles against your neck to make you heat up in embarrassment. Either you die of heated flushed face or pay attention to her. Columbina doesn’t even like noises, it’s so bothersome unless it’s your voice. But your phone… It is nothing but a holy object that makes her jealous. So, presently, if you come out of your room;; she will kiss your lips longingly. Searching for what is ticking her hunger. She knows you’re just doing what’s best for Teyvat, but she wants your attention too, sweetie.

With Arlecchino, God forbid any of the Harbingers to place you next to their seat. You will always sit next to Arlecchino, whether it’s in between Childe and her, or Pantalone and her. Either way the two said boys will argue who gets to be next to the lovely divine. (Arlecchino almost killed them) And it’s not that Arlecchino gets easily jealous either, she understands your boundaries and respects. She’s just, very overprotective. If you’re not in time on the meeting… She’ll bite her nails aggressively like she lost someone special to her.

Okay, I’m getting too detailed into this, but the Harbingers are the same. Dottore examining your blood, Pierro making you sign off paper lists for agreements which he is happy with, Capitano inviting you for tea / coffee, Pulcinella making sure you had enough pillows… Call this rather intimidating, but even in the dead, Signora haunts your soul and is deeply obsessed. Even if she died, she will have you.

So yes, the night was going so smoothly right now. With you alone in your little imaginary world, before feeling your nose starting to itch. Flinching slightly, a fast reflex of your head turned to the right and used your arm that’s covered by your clothing, and began sneezing hardly into it. Sneezing into it, it wasn’t any “cute” nor “adorable” kind of sneeze… More like a sick sneeze that had you realizing maybe you should’ve made hot chocolate before entering the bedroom.

And the Harbingers, even if the walls were wall-proof, heard you. Eyes widening in awe with the sound of your sneeze erupting into their rooms… How fascinating! Your sneeze is more louder than their walls! How amazing is that? Tsaritsa may not even seem impressed however. She is rather more concerned of your well being, so she decided to send the Harbingers to your room… After all she… She can’t simply let you know her feelings. It’s too complicated. You’re the divine! She’s just your creation. A loyal one.

The Harbingers all huddle up to your door with Dottore angrily pushing Childe away to get the lead, since he was obviously the doctor you needed. The doctor you created. Silently opening the door, eyes peered to you, seeing your sickly figure cuddling against the blankets for more warmth;; your phone making lovely music from it, that had the villains in love. Archons, I think their pupils just turned into hearts.

Childe was desperately pushing everyone out of the way much to their anger that made them want to chop the lil’ ginger’s head off— seeing him instantly sitting eagerly onto the edge of your bed and lifted you up to hug your waist. Childe was a family person, isn’t he? So he knew exactly how to take care of a sick person. Childe gave you some medicines he stole from Dottore when making his way here, that had Dottore jaw dropping to the floor.

Pierro didn’t recognize the medicine at first, but once he did, he furiously stormed his way into the bedroom to stop Childe’s antics. This ends up with him and Capitano dragging the boy out;; who whines and cries your name out which you just… Slept from. You were heavily asleep, and you’re one heavy sleeper.

Columbina watched everyone scolding the eleventh Harbinger, scolding him and making fun of him. This makes a smile curve into her lips, as Dottore made his way finally into your bedroom with the door shut. Columbina noticed, and hated it.

Dottore was treating you now, softly sliding his hand to your [Skin color] skin, making sure he savors it before pouring the real medicine into your cup Pantalone had taken to him. Once he finished making the medicine ready for you, he glances down, and hums in wonder if you would ever want to… Be a Harbinger… The leader. The divine. Tsaritsa would love to work under your spell… Anyone would love to work under you.

Truth be told, even if you weren’t the creator and a friend of yours was, they’ll still be obsessed with you. One glimpse of you and they’ll fall for you. All over again. It doesn’t matter. They want your perspective and view, your soul. Whatever form you take, they’ll take it.

… Ah. You started sneezing again against the blankets, causing Dottore to grimace into a crimson red blush. Goodness, you’re going to be the death of him… Although as much as he’d like to stay and … Just watch you, he knew that Columbina’s rose-red eyes were watching his soul, wanting to tear him apart into the most gruesome tangled object she could imagine. And the two were rivals, striving to one-up one another to see who was the better strongest Harbinger. If they can’t beat Capitano, the strongest one amongst the Harbingers and Pierro the leader, they’ll just go at each other’s throats instead.

So stay, won’t you? Sneeze all you want, they’ll be in love with you. They don’t care how… Odd it sounds;; they’ll find it cute one way or another. Let Tartaglia make drinks for you, let Arlecchino make biscuits or snacks, let Dottore care for you and treat you with speciality, let Columbina draw poorly for you as she sings a tune.

If the Archons were to find you, they won’t back down from trying to get rid of them. After all, they’re under Tsaritsa’s care. Tsaritsa, with Gnosis, she surely can beat them. So it will be easy as ever~ Wouldn’t it?

This is shorter than I intended it to be. Maybe because I don’t really like “cute” sneezes— 💀 Idk man doesn’t sound realistic to me 💔 I tried tho. Also I didn’t add Scaramouche because well,,, he’s forgotten, isn’t he???

Also really excited to finish the Dreaming Freedom Fan-Fic, so I’ll post it shortly after~

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hi friend! I love your writing!! Could you do a headcannon/blurb for Ghost and Price (not poly) with a reader who has trouble opening up emotionally? When they do open up they feel like a burden and feel like they have to “earn back their love” through facts of service? Just angsty fluff :)

Oof I can kinda relate lmaooo

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s pretty closed off at first, and he’s quite aware of it, so he won’t push you or force you into opening up if you’re not ready

You’re both waiting for the other to make a move because you’re too nervous to make the first move yourself, so he steps out of his comfort zone and decides to make the first move

You two are laying in bed, watching videos on your phone when he starts talking about his family. (His timing is a little awkward with these things) His heart is beating so hard and fast in his chest, he feels like he’s about to throw up. You’ve shut off your phone and you’re hanging off of every word, tears prickling your eyes, chewing over his words as you contemplate sharing your own

He bit the bullet and so can you. So you do. You share some of the things that have been weighing in your heart, thoughts that have been plaguing your mind, but before you share too much, you bite your tongue and put a tourniquet on your heart before you overstepped your (imagined) boundaries

He was so relieved you saw fit to open up to him that he drifted to sleep for the first time in ages, and it was a peaceful sleep. Morning came and he was woken up by the smell of coffee and breakfast, he groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and rolled out of bed

“What’s all this?” He asked walking past you and kissing the top of your head as he grabbed the cup of tea you made for him,

“I just wanted to thank you for listening last night, I hope I didn’t burden you.”

“Burden? Love, you’re jokin’” He held the cup close to his lips but set it down as soon as you said that,

“Well, you’ve got your own stuff to deal with and I’m just adding to it and I feel bad.” You said dismissively as you went back to the eggs in the pan,

“Sweetheart, you’re never a burden.”

“I’ve heard that one before.” You chuckled bitterly with a roll of your eyes,

“You callin’ me a liar?” He turned your head to look at him with just a finger under your chin, and those eyes that you loved so much held nothing but the utmost sincerity

“N-no, it’s just,” the words struggled to form, your arguments suddenly moot as they turned over in your head, “I’m sorry.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead,

“Don’t be. I’m here for you. Always.”

John Price:

I’ve said it time and time again, John is a patient man. He’s also known Ghost for years, so a bit of emotional closed off-ness isn’t foreign to him. He’s dealt with it, he knows how to handle it. He also knows that leading by example tends to work best in those cases.

He can see that you’ve been bottling something up, he can practically hear you chewing your lip in an attempt to keep whatever it is inside, he hates seeing the torment in your eyes so he takes initiative, he sees that you’re almost at your breaking point so he pulls you away from your task and sits you down in the living room, he’s holding your hands, deft fingers massaging the tension away

He recalls a time when struggled, when he was falling apart at the seams but felt obligated to keep it together for the sake of his men. It ate away at him until it manifested into poor self-care, almost to a point of causing permanent harm to himself. Until he’d met you and you welcomed him and all his troubles with open arms.

You argued that what you were dealing with was nothing like that, it was insignificant by comparison and you went on and on without realizing that he had succeeded in getting you to open up to him. And then you realized it and gradually managed to reel it back in. You dried your tears and happily returned his kiss.

“I’ll always be here listen, alright?” You nodded and kissed him again

He’d stepped out to smoke until he was cut short by the incredible and enticing smell of your cooking brought him back inside. He walked over to you in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind,

“What’s all this about?”

“Just my way of saying thank you.”

“What for?”

“Well for letting me dump all that on you.”

“Sorry?” Despite pulling away slowly, it felt more like recoiling after being punched in the stomach,

“You’ve got a lot on your shoulders already and here I am adding to it. So I’m just making up for that.” You shrugged, he sighed and put his hands over yours, turning you away from your task at the stove,

“Two things love, one, don’t ever feel the need to thank me for listening, two, nothing you ever do could possibly make you a burden to me. Remember that.”

“But-” a lump formed in your throat and he shook his head, taking the utensils from your hand and gently pushing you to the side. He stepped in front of the stove and leaned over to you to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

“No ‘buts’, love. Now, tell me what to do next.”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Personal Time [2]

Steven Grant X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info

Personal Time Series Masterlist (You don't have to read it to read this)

Summary: Steven orders a strap-on.

A/N: @lonelyisamyw-0love this is especially for you 💚

This is unbetaed (like all of my fics) I have read it over a few times, but my head just isn't in the game at the moment and I feel like I'm just not chatching errors. I appologise that there are probably more here than normal. Also Downward dog is a yoga position.

Warnings: oral (both m and f receiving), fingering, pegging, anal sex, sucking on a strap, praise kink (I’m sorry), the term ‘good boy’ used, begging, ermmmm kind of an exhibition kink?, typos, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning.

Word Count: 4967

________________________________

Steven had spent the better part of 24 hours researching. Not all at once mind you. 

He hadn’t meant to fixate on this, it had just sort of… happened. 

One thing had led to another and another, and another. But he’d finally found a strap-on that he thought would tick all the boxes for both of you. 

He had ordered it online, after checking fifteen times that the delivery would be with discreet packaging. There was no need to give Mrs Thompson on the second floor anything to get all gossipy about. Especially when she managed to churn up enough ‘scandal’ about the block’s private lives anyway. (Quite early on in your and Steven’s relationship Mrs Thompson had engaged you in conversation in the lift. And when she had noticed what floor you were headed to, had promptly filled you in on all the ‘juicy titbits’ about the ‘odd gentleman’ that lived in flat 502 and his two ‘unusual brothers’. You had struggled to keep a straight face and had blurted the whole story out to Steven the second you saw him.)

The discreet (ordinary) packaging was the main reason why Steven had just dumped the parcel on the coffee table with a couple others when he got home from work. He’d had a shower and gone as far as slicing open the brown parcel tape when you’d knocked at the door. 

“Hi Steven.” You smiled as he held the door. “How was work?”

“Hi love,” he grinned and kissed your cheek before standing back to allow you to come in. “Good, good, shit actually, but good.” 

You snorted as you took off your shoes and hung up your jacket. 

“Do you want a drink?” 

“Aw, thank you, just water.” 

He grinned again and waited until your hands were unencumbered before he gave you a proper hug and a kiss. “Hello.” 

“Hello.” You echoed as he held you tightly. 

“Jake has been driving me fucking insane.” 

You laughed as he broke the hug. “Why?” 

“Why?” He pulled a face, mock exasperation that you knew was a put on just to amuse you. “His current obsession with Mrs Thomspon.” 

You giggled and Steven gestured for you to take a seat on the sofa as he went into the kitchen to get you a glass of water, and himself a cup of tea. 

“What’s the latest update in the saga?” You said as you sat down, noticing the three large parcels on the coffee table, one partially open. 

“He baked her cookies.” 

“Cookies?” 

Steven leaned back so that he could stare at you dramatically. “Cookies.” 

You laughed again. “How did she react?” 

Steven rolled his eyes and went back to making the drinks. “She loves him! You know that already from her most recent lift update to you about, ‘that strange Mr Grant, his odd brother, and that lovely Jake.’”

You couldn’t stop your giggles at his impression of Mrs Thompson. 

“I know Jake said he was going to kill her with kindness, but really.” He tutted. “He’s just doing it to annoy me. And to get all the gossip about everyone in the building.” 

You smiled. While you were sure that Jake did enjoy hearing about the little mini-dramas that were going on in the block of flats, you knew that he had originally spoken to Mrs Thompson after the first lift incident as a precaution. A safety check. Just to see what the woman had been saying about them to other people. 

He had ended up in the 77 year old's flat being fed tea and biscuits and had fixed her bathroom window, which hadn’t been closing right.

The kettle clicked off as it boiled.

“So what’s with all the boxes?” You called. 

“Oh!” Steven answered excitedly, “I think they are the books I was telling you about!”

You chuckle. “Did you buy a library?” 

“Pretty much!” 

Your smile widens. 

“I just had to get the full colour edition of the history of Iraq, because the photos looked amazing! Have a look!” 

You paused for a second, a little ball of impoliteness prodded at your mind even though Steven had just given you express permission to look in the box. But you shook the feeling aside and opened it. It was silly to be worried, it was just…

Ah. 

Steven came back into the room and paused at the look on your face. “Love?” 

You looked up at him quickly, trying to hide the smile that wanted to take over your entire being.

“You okay?” 

“It’s not your book in that parcel.” 

He frowned. “It’s not,” then he sighed. “Have they sent the wrong bloody thing?” 

You took the strap-on out of the packaging, all neatly sealed in its own very posh looking box, and held it up to him. 

“Oh, yeah.” Steven blushed but he was grinning. “That’s not a book.”

“I didn’t realise you could also order these from Waterstones.” 

He snorted. “No, that was definitely from a different place.” He gave you a sheepish smile as he put the drinks on the table and brushed his curls out of his eyes. 

“I didn’t realise you’d ordered one.” 

“Well,” he shrugged and sat down next to you, fiddling with his fingers ever so slightly. “I just, I wanted to make sure it was alright first.”

“You were gonna use it without me?” You teased.

“No,” his eyes shot up straight to yours, relaxing only when he saw your playful expression. “I just wanted to make sure it looked comfy for you.”

“For me?” The sentiment touches deep within your heart. “Steven, surely, I mean, it’s going in you. Your comfort is much more important.” 

He pulled a face like you’d just told him that the sky was orange. “Don’t be silly, love.” He shifts a little closer to you, his knee resting against your leg. “So,” he points to the box in your hands. “I did some research to find one that was good for beginners and each party.”

“You did some research?” You tease gently and he nods.

You can’t help yourself as you rub your legs together. Unable to stop the thought of Steven hunched over his laptop on his desk, his glasses on the tip of his nose as he read in depth reviews. Had he worked himself up? Gotten all hot and bothered thinking about you fucking him again? Had he desperately relieved himself at his desk? 

“Do you want to try it out today?” You ask tentatively. 

“Now?” He asks eagerly.

“Now’s good.”

.

He had happily let you lead him to bed, your lips fastened to his as if he was your only source of oxygen. His tea long forgotten and growing cold. 

You had drunk down his little moans, softly pushing him back onto the mattress and stripping him of his clothes. You bit his lip gently every time he tried to take off your own and he giggled. 

When he was naked, at last, you took a moment just to admire him. The flushed golden hue of his skin, his beautiful dark eyes, the way his mouth parted with every breath. 

Languidly you trailed your hands up his legs, placing gentle kisses on his inner thighs and smiling against his skin when he jumped and squirmed. His cock was already hard, twitching against his stomach and leaking. Desperate and waiting for you. For the smallest touch or caress, for anything you’d grace him with. 

It was dizzying sometimes, the thought alone making your head spin, how much faith and trust Steven gave you, putting every single part of himself in your hands as if it was as natural as breathing. 

You kissed his balls, nuzzling into them before licking them all over. 

Steven swore, his back arching ever so slightly as he pushed himself closer and spread his legs wider. 

You happily obliged him by licking a board, flat stripe up from the base to the very tip of his cock. Moaning slightly when the beaded precum at his head touched your tongue. 

He groaned, trying to bury the sound behind his hand, “Love… please.” 

You took your mouth away from him and he whimpered, a look of betrayal flashing across his features. 

His pout made you smile. 

You kissed the base of his length, running the tip of your nose against the thick vein that ran up the underside of his cock. Your smile widened when he shivered. 

“Can you grab the lube out of the drawer?” You asked quietly and broke into a laugh at how quickly Steven moved. As if he had been struck by lightning.

He partially rolled over, carefully not to whack you with his thighs, and fished around for a second before pulling out the bottle and placing it into your waiting hand. 

“Thank you.” You said in a singsong voice. 

Since finding his dildo and your recent escapades with it, you had made it your personal mission to learn how to work Steven open yourself. Savouring every moan and clench of muscle. He’d seemingly become quite addicted to it. 

You poured a generous helping of lube onto both of your hands. Then positioned your left hand around his cock, pumping him in lazy strokes, while you slide the fore and middle fingers of your right down his balls and pressed them lightly at his hole. 

Steven’s breathing hitched, his hips bucking ever so slightly into your touch as he fought with himself to stay still. 

You gently eased both of your fingers into him. Yours weren’t as thick as Steven’s own, and you knew from previous experience that he enjoyed that slow, tortuous stretch at the start. Happy to take two or three in the first breach, as long as they were well lubed. 

He moaned, shuddered, and swore, fisting his hands into the sheets beside him and pressing his head back, exposing the tendons in his neck. 

“Nice?” You asked as you moved your fingers, stroking them perfectly against his prostate. 

Steven gasped loudly, nodding, his eyes screwed up tight at the sensation. “Yeah, yeah, yes, good, nice, really good!” He rushed all his words together, the syllables becoming a blur. 

“Good.” You muttered. Heat swam in your lower belly, pooled at your core just from watching him. His pretty little sounds hypnotic. 

You scissored your fingers lightly, just enough to stretch his tight ring of muscle before going back to your tortuously slow, deep strokes.  

His thighs shook slightly, his muscles twitching as he fought with them to keep them still. 

You lean up, moving slightly so that you can swirl your tongue over the tip of his cock. 

Steven whines and you sink down, taking him deeper into your throat, and the action breaks him. 

“Fuck!” He hisses between his teeth, grabbing hold of your shoulder and bucking up into your warm, wet mouth and then grinding down onto your fingers. He can’t stop himself now, the last of his resolve breaking so easily under your touch. 

You let him writhe under you for a minute, let him buck and moan and sob as nonsense falls from his mouth. 

Incoherent pleas of, ‘love’ and ‘good’, and ‘more’. 

You keep one arm pressed against his hips, stopping him from thrashing too much. Slowly you start to avoid his prostate, just skim along the edges of it, until he whines. Almost delirious under your touch. “Looove!” 

You chuckle, pulling off his cock and chuckle before going back to stroking and stretching him wide. 

“Shit, ah, thank you, I-” He swallows, gasping for air and then quickly his hands are on your shoulders, pushing you back. “Wait, love, wait, too much, sorry.”

You removed your fingers instantly, sitting up as panic chills your veins. “You okay?” 

“Good,” he breathes in deeply, “really good. Too good.” He gives you a lopsided smile. “Didn’t want to cum.” 

You smile back as his words soothe you. “I thought I’d hurt you.” 

His eyebrows pinch together in concern. “Oh love, no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” You give him a kiss and he chases after your mouth as you pull away. 

You giggle. “I’ll be right back.” You quickly move away to the bathroom to wash your hands. 

When you come back Steven has moved a little, now sitting more fully on the bed. He grins at you. “You’re wearing too many clothes.” 

“Oh?” You mock surprise as you approach him. “Am I?” 

“Yes,” he grabs hold of you playfully and pulls you into an embrace as he kisses all over your face and neck. “Far too many.” 

His hands are so warm, and you giggle as he slips them under your clothes, removing them like he was unwrapping a gift. He kisses your chest, lavishing attention on each breast before pulling you back down on top of him. 

You let out a little squeak of surprise as he gently manhandles you into the position he wants - your thighs on either side of his head. 

“Steven-”

“Hmm?” He asks innocently, pushing down on your hips so that your knees slide wider and your pussy inches closer to his waiting mouth. 

“This is meant to be about you.” Your voice comes out weak and breathless. 

“Oh, it is.” He whispers, leaning up and running a board, flat lick across your centre, and moaning loudly. The vibrations run up and along your clit. 

You bite your lips together, trying to gain some kind of control over yourself as your toes curl and eyes roll back at the slow swipes of his tongue. 

“Good job this is what I want then, isn’t it?” Steven mutters, his eyes dark and hungry before diving back to your folds and pressing you down to his waiting mouth.

“Steven,” you bite your lips together to hold back a moan, your right hand flying to the headboard, your left hand to his soft curls. 

He wraps his arm around your waist, pushing down on your hips and rocking you back and forth against him, urging you to buck and grind on his tongue. 

You can't help yourself, your muscles moving on instinct as you obey his commands without thinking.

Pleasure sparks low in your belly as he swirls his tongue over your clit, lightly scraping at you with his teeth before he curls his tongue through your folds and slips inside. You gasp, following his hypnotising rhythm as the familiar heat begins to build. 

There’s a dull scratch of his stubble against your thighs as you ride him.

The bridge of his nose presses against your clit as he fucks his tongue deeper into you, groaning at every pull of his hair and every sound that falls from your lips. 

His fingers dig in and bruise your skin, trying to bring you closer, urge you nearer despite the fact that you are as physically close as possible. It’s never enough for Steven, always hungry and desperate for more. More of your sounds, your taste, your warm, soft skin against his.

If you let him, he’d never stop. Would be content to spend the rest of his days with his head between your thighs. 

Your toes start to curl, muscles clenching as the heady build of your orgasm begins to crest. So close, so close, so close. But you don’t want it yet. 

You push on his forehead with the palm of your hand, moving your hips back and away from him. “Steven,” you breathe as his mouth chases after you, your words sounding indistinct from sighs of pleasure. You push against his head harder. 

“Steven.” You try to inject some firmness into your voice, managing it barely. 

He stops, his grip on your waist and thighs still tight, but he flops his head back against the pillows as he stares up at you. His eyes dark and hooded with lust, your slick covering the bottom half of his face. He’s breathing deep, his eyes dark, and his dick throbbing against his stomach. Hot and needy. 

“You okay love?” He swallows as he asks, his chest heaving and you can feel the strain in his arms, the twitch of muscle as he fights with himself not to pull you back down onto his face. 

You give him a sickeningly sweet smile, “Good, really good. Too good.” You repeat his previous words back at him. “Didn’t want to cum.” 

“Love-”

“Wanna cum with you.” 

He groans, biting his lip as his eyes roll back. He swallows and nods rapidly, almost as if he is afraid to speak and voice his deep-down urges. 

You grin as you wiggle free of his grip, placing a quick kiss on his lips as you get off him and stand by the bed. 

Steven sits up to watch you put the strap on, his eyes fixated on every movement. “Is it comfortable?” He breathes when you’ve adjusted it. 

You nod.

He smiles, a little pinch of anxiety loosening. 

You go to reach for the lube, but Steven clears his throat. 

“Erm, love?” He waits until you look at him to continue. “Could I, erm, I mean, you can say no, if you don’t want to, I mean, could I maybe…?”

You stay quiet, not wanting to interrupt him. But you gently place your hand on his cheek, softly stroking his skin. 

He swallows. “Could I suck it?” 

A little smile pulls at your lips. “You wanna suck it?” 

Steven nods, fiddling with his fingers. 

“Get on your knees then.” You whisper, your voice low. 

He moves fast, quickly scrambling off the bed and to his knees on the floorboards. You chuckle, stepping back slightly to give him some room. But Steven’s hands go to your hips, reaching around to knead and squeeze your ass and pull you closer. 

He licks his lips, staring at the strap, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Slowly he places a kiss to the very tip before ducking down to the very base and licking back up to the head, something you realise he has learnt from how you please him. 

He takes the tip into his mouth, easing down slowly and bobbing back up. A low groan building in his chest. 

“Fuck.” You whisper under your breath, almost too quiet for Steven to hear. Something about him there, on his knees, just does it for you. 

With a little more force than you intend, you take hold of a handful of hair at the back of his head and push him deeper. 

Steven moans louder. His eyes immediately snap open so he can stare up at you, lustful and cock dumb as salvia drips down his chin to mingle with your wetness that is still covering his skin. 

He pushes against the strap ever so slightly, purposefully grinding the base of it against your clit and you gasp. 

His dick twitches at the sound. 

He swallows around the strap, easing further down, the silicon disappearing into his throat. 

You pull him off with a harsh tug on his hair, a string of salvia connecting his mouth to the tip as he gasps for breath. His eyebrows pinched together. 

“I get to fuck you now.” You growl and Steven nods his head swiftly. 

He leans back and grabs the lube off the bed and hands it to you as he stands. 

“How do you want to do it?” You ask as you pour a generous helping all over the length. 

“Well,” a slight blush graces his cheeks, touches the tips of his ears. “I was reading,” another flash of Steven furiously jerking off at his desk in front of the laptop as he was ‘researching’ plays behind your eyes, “and there’s, erm, this position that’s meant to be really good.” He shifts his weight back and forth for a second before moving. 

He places both hands on the edge of the bed, spreads his legs on the floor, and leans forward like he’s doing a slightly adapted version of a downward dog. “And, I was thinking-” His sharp intake of breath cuts off his words as you pour more lube against his entrance. 

“You want me to fuck you like this?” 

He nods, his lip back between his teeth. “Uh huh.” 

You lean forward a little and his shoulder blade. “I think we can do that.” 

He groans at your words, the sounds growing in pitch as you press the tip of the strap against his hole. 

“You okay? You need me to warm you up some more?” 

“No, please, I’m good, keep going, keep,” he pushes back against you, trying to work the dildo into himself on his own. 

You chuckle a little at his eagerness, sliding your hand down to his right hip to steady him as you painstakingly slowly thrust forward. It sinks into him. Steven lets out a satisfied moan as the bulbous head inches past his tight ring of muscle. His hands fist at the bedsheet. 

You can take your eyes off how it just disappears into him. The way he stretches around it, completely split open. You swear quietly under your breath and pull his cheeks apart ever so slightly so you can experience the full view as he greedily swallows the strap. 

“Fuck, Steven, you look so good like this.” 

He moans in response, his eyes screwing up in bliss, feeling so full. The thickness of the strap in him, your hands on him, the heat of your skin as the front of your thighs kiss against the backs of his. It’s almost too much. 

His cock throbs painfully hard, heavy, and pleading for relief. So persistent it’s almost maddening. 

Finally, you bottom out, your hips flush against him. You ease out again slowly, savouring the torturous pace as you pull back until the tip is barely inside before sinking in. 

“You look so good like this Steven,” you praise and delight in his little whimper. “So good taking all of this for me.” 

He nods rapidly, eyes screwed shut. He shifts a little as you slide back into him, dropping to his elbows against the bed. 

“Next time, shit,” you start to move a little faster. The press of the strap against your clit burning deliciously. “Next time, I’m gonna take photos of you split open like this.”

He moans wantonly. 

“Gonna take a video of how well you take me. Of what a good boy you are.” You slide deeper, brushing against his prostate and Steven keens, his back arching. “Gonna watch it every day, gonna touch myself and cum looking at you,” warmth spread along your veins, tightening in your core. 

“Oh fuck, please, please, please,” he grinds back into your every thrust, needing you deeper, harder, craving anything you would give. Words pile up in his mind, so many that it’s practically impossible for them all to fall out of his mouth. He wants you, needs you, everywhere. Everything you could possibly do to him. He’ll suffocate without it. 

Pleasure sparks up from the base of his spine, tightening his muscles and he’s so, so close to just falling into it. 

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease,” he slurs, “take videos of me,” he whines, too cockdumb to have any verbal filter. “Split me open, fuck, post them online, I want everyone to seee- Ah!” He sobs as you thrust particularly deep, and you focus all your energy on hitting the same spot over and over. 

“You want everyone to see Steven?” You lean forward, hissing in his ear. “You want everyone to see how well you can take it?” Want them all to cum looking at you.” 

“Ohshit!” He can’t help it, the thought of it, it’s too much. He tenses, moaning loudly. Every muscle clenches as he cums, spilling thick ropes all over the side of the bed and floorboard. Splashes hitting his stomach. He had intended to warn you when he was close, but now he just can’t stop as he convulses through his orgasm, the pleasure twisting and building impossibly in his stomach. 

You kiss his shoulder blade and start to slow your hips. 

“No, no, no, no,” he reaches around to grab hold of your hips, moving back against you. “Please, please, keep going, I think I can, ah!” He rocks on the balls on his feet as you start thrusting again. “I think I can cum again, please.” 

You groan at how he leans back into you, his breathy, needy, desperate whines, all of it combines to make you lightheaded. 

Steven grabs at your right hand, his eyes half closed, mouth hanging open. For a moment you think he just wants to link fingers but he quickly moves it to his head. 

“Pull, pull my hair, please, pull me back, just- fuck!”

You do as he asks, taking a large fistful of hair and yanking him towards your chest. He moans loudly as you pull, his spine arching, his throat bobbing as it bends under your grip. He barely manages to keep hold of the bed with both hands, his thighs shaking with the effort of keeping himself upright. 

It’s like there’s a snap in his abdomen releasing bliss and pleasure overwhelms every thought.

He sobs out your name as he cums again. Every nerve shaking. And while not much more than a dribble shoots out of his aching cock, he cums harder than he thought possible. It’s like liquid gold explodes along every cell, coating and purifying every single part of him. 

He doesn’t remember blacking out for a second, but he must have because the next thing he knows is that he’s in your arms. Your muscles hold him steady and stop him from falling back and smacking his head against the corner of the bedside table. 

“Steven?” There’s a tiny pinch of panic in your voice that makes his chest hurt. The idea that you’re worried about him, that he caused your worry is almost too much in that moment. 

“I’m fine love, sorry,” he moves to stand fully, taking his weight off of you. “That was so amazing, I just…” He breathes deeply. 

You keep your arms around him, keep up that steadying hold. “Are you sure you're-” You yelp, the rest of your sentence lost as Steven turns quickly, pulling the strap on out of himself with a wet pop. 

He kisses you deeply, his hands on your cheeks as he slides his tongue into your mouth and groans. 

It’s so sudden that you barely register his movements before he’s turning you around and pressing you back against the bed. (Purposefully avoiding the wet patch he left, with mumbles of how he’d change the bedding later.) 

He unbuckles the strap hastily, his short nails leaving shallow scratches before he throws it to the side. 

“Steve-”

He kneels, dragging your hips to the mattress's edge and spreading your thighs wide. 

Without any pause he quickly slides two thick fingers into your aching heat, groaning low in his chest at your wetness. You gasp as he curls them, finding that perfect spot instantly as he strokes your walls. 

“Steven, you don’t have to-” Your moan cuts off the rest of your words as he leans forward and presses a board, flat lick across your clit. Timing the movement with the caress of his fingers. 

You squirm against his touch, already so worked up, and fight the urge to clamp your legs around his face. 

Steven looked up at you, large puppy dog eyes dark and hungry. 

Heat builds rapidly in your core, the sound of your wetness echoing around the flat. 

He dips his tongue down, slipping in through your folds and into your core just above his fingers. He moans as your muscles tense, never taking his eyes off you. 

His name falls from your lips like a prayer as your rock against him, trying to chase that tantalising pressure. Needing more. 

The movement of his tongue and fingers overtakes and outshines any other possible thought as all you can do is mindlessly buck against his face as you near your high. 

Steven presses deeper, slipping in a third finger and nudging the bridge of his nose against your clit. And fuuccccck.

You cum against him with a wail you’d be embarrassed about if you could formulate thoughts. Every possible thought is overtaken by the sudden wave of pleasure he pulls out of you, drowns you in. Stars dance behind your eyes as your muscles shake. 

Steven laps at you steadily, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible until you are gasping, tears in your eyes from the overstimulation. 

You place a hand on his shoulder and he slowly withdrawals his fingers, groaning at the white, creamy mess you left on his digits. 

He presses a kiss against your knee as you breathe hard. 

“I think the strap was a success.” He says, quite matter of factly, as if you had just managed to find a slightly quicker route to work. 

You giggle as he glances up at you and pulls a silly face. “Definitely.” 

He pauses for one moment, nuzzling against your thigh. “I, erm, maybe we don’t upload videos of me online though.” He blushes a little and you lean down, kissing him deeply. 

“I know that was just sex talk, those are all for me anyway.” 

He chuckles and kisses you again. “Didn’t… weird you out or anything?” 

You shake your head. “I loved it.” 

“Good.” He leans into your embrace as you wrap your arms around him. 

“Though, if we did upload videos of you,” you tease, “I’m sure we’d make so much money, you could buy all the books you wan-”

You yelp and giggle as Steven tackles you back onto the bed and kisses you roughly. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[sithbvcky]

.02: SLEEP ALONE

As the adopted daughter of Tony Stark, your role becomes even more twisted and entangled when you meet and fall in love with one James Barnes. Unbeknownst to you, your world is about to flip upside down. Bucky x Stark!Reader Word Count: 2,146 Warnings: mentions of death, dead body *this was an anon request*

.01

Since that fateful meeting, you spent more and more time with James. You hadn’t booked a return flight from Bucharest, not until you found what you needed. You hadn’t pestered him anymore about his metal hand, which he had elaborated was actually his whole left arm. And he didn’t treat you any different after knowing of your powers. You simply started finding comfort in each others company. Daily coffee runs turned into shared dinners and discussions over tea. He had one more place he wanted to investigate that your mother might have stayed in and this time he conceded to your insistence on coming along. 

It was what looked to be an abandoned warehouse about an hour from the city. James had explained that some people used it as a halfway house on their way out of Bucharest. It’s roof was still intact and it was large and spacious, lots of places to hide if you didn’t wanna be found. 

“I’ll go first.” James said, which you appreciated. Even though you had what felt like the power of a nuclear bomb underneath your skin, this was unfamiliar territory and the last thing you needed to do was bring down a giant cement building. You could already see the headlines and the disappointed phone call you would be receiving from your father having to clean up your mess. 

You followed close behind James as he entered the warehouse. You weren’t expecting to find anyone here. Every other lead had been a dead end but you weren’t exactly ready to give up either. The main room of the warehouse was empty, nothing but abandoned tents and scraps left behind by whomever came before. You sifted amongst the trash with your foot, to see if there was anything of potential value. James wandered off into one of the adjacent rooms as you continued looking. A moment later, James returned looking as if he’d seen a ghost. 

“What’s the matter?” You asked, abandoning your search through the trash. 

“There’s a body in one of the rooms back there.” He started, looking down at his feet and shaking his head. “I didn’t look too closely at it but it seemed to be female.” His blue eyes met yours and they seemed to tell you “Don’t go in there.” or did you read his mind? 

You pushed by him and began marching towards the room he came from, 

“Y/N.” He called out for you, jogging to catch up with you. 

“I have to see. I have to know for sure.” You stated sternly and continued your momentum. When you entered the room, you saw a pile of blankets in the corner. James was right behind you, you could feel his soothing presence as you crept closer to the blankets. There was long brown hair sprouting from the top of the pile. Carefully you knelt down and slowly peeled back the blankets, revealing the still face of a woman. A woman who eerily looked like you. Same hair, same face. James stood a small distance behind you, giving you space but remaining close enough if you needed him. He was silent but observed your every move. 

As you looked at her, you noticed something that looked like the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from the jacket she was in. Carefully, you pulled it from the body and found your name written on it. With shaking breath, you unfolded the paper and read the handwritten note. 

“To my dearest Y/N, 

If you’re reading this that means he found me. I am so sorry for all the pain I caused you, I only ever wanted you to have a normal life. Last I heard you were adopted by a very important man who has given you everything I never could. I hope you are happy. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy, which is why all of this started. If he hasn’t already, he will try to come for you. He hates people like you but you are a miracle. A magnificent and beautiful creature with endless capabilities. Never forget that. 

 Please, protect yourself however you can. I will be watching over you, I love you. 

Your mother.” 

You paused for a moment after you finished reading, standing up to your feet. 

“Are you alright?” James asked softly. 

“Someone killed my mother because of me.” You said through gritted teeth, you could feel the power surging in your veins. In every fiber of your being. White hot and begging to be released. James took a step closer to you. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“Sorry won’t bring her back. Sorry won’t change what I am.” You eyes were locked on your mothers body. 

“Y/N, it isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself for this.” James reached to place his flesh hand on your shoulder but you spun around pushing his hand away. 

“Don’t patronize me! Don’t try to understand how it feels to know you are the reason your mother is dead in a warehouse!” You shouted, red sparks emanated from your fingertips. Something was waking up inside you. 

“Y/N.” James called gently, as you fought the sobs trying to escape your throat. Let me out. The power within you cooed. Let me free. 

“Y/N, look at me.” James’ voice was stern but you barely heard him over the roar in your ears. You began to hyperventilate, as the power continued to grow within you looking for a release. 

“Y/N! Don’t!” 

James’s voice was the last thing you heard before a scream erupted from your lungs. A scream so anguished and broken. Filled to the brim with pain. Then everything went black. There were flashes as your mind flowed in and out of consciousness. Smoke and rubble. The feeling of strong arms wrapping around you. James’ muffled voice so close you could feel the vibration on your skin. 

When you came to, you were back in your apartment. James was sitting at the coffee table wringing his hands together. When he noticed you stirring he jumped to his feet to be at your side. 

“Y/N. Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes scanning your face anxiously. You brought a hand up to your head and winced, 

“I think so.” You mumbled. “What happened?” 

James looked down for a moment, 

“What do you remember?” He asked. 

“I remember finding my mother and her note and then feeling so much anger and pain and then nothing.” You answered, looking to him and seeing the worry in his eyes. 

“What did I do?” You asked urgently. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. 

“James, tell me, what did I do?” You insisted. 

“You brought half the building down on top of us. I pulled us out of the rubble.” He admitted. You let out a deep sigh, 

“Oh my god.” You winced, exactly what you didn’t want to have happen. 

“It’s alright, it was an old building anyways no one will think anything of it.” James assured. “What matters the most is that you’re ok.” He added. You began rubbing your forehead, racking your brain to put together those lost moments of time but it only started giving you a migraine so you gave up. 

“I’m sorry, James. I try so hard to keep it under control but-

“No, don’t.” He shook his head. “You don’t have to do that with me.” 

“Do what?” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. 

“Don’t have to explain yourself. What you are.” He hesitated before pulling a crumpled piece of paper from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.

“I figured you would want to keep this.” He said, changing the subject. You took your mothers note from his hand and felt the tears welling in your eyes. James moved to stand up when you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him leaving. He looked down at you in surprise, after the events of today he assumed you’d be done. On your way back home and he’d go back to being alone. But something changed when you grabbed his hand, you felt it and you pushed that feeling through you to him. 

“Don’t go.” You whispered with a shaking voice. “I don’t like sleeping alone.” You felt vulnerable saying it but it was true.

“Neither do I.” He admitted but he made no move to join you in bed. “But I don’t think you’d want to share a bed with me.” He slid his hand from your grip and stepped back over to the coffee table. You sat up, propping yourself on your elbows as you watched him. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked, observing him intently. His body language had changed, he was stiff and you could feel him closing you out. 

“I’m not a good man, Y/N and if you knew everything I’d done.” His voice broke for a moment and he shook his head as if to collect himself. At this revelation you pushed yourself all the way out of bed and walked over to stand before him. Pulling his head up to look at you, 

“I may not know every thing about you, you’re right. But I know enough to know that you aren’t a bad man.” You said, gazing into his eyes. 

“No, I’m not. Not really.” He pulled his head away from your hold but you pulled it right back. 

“Listen to me.” You stated, holding his head between both of your hands. “I get to decide who I want in my life and who I want to share my bed. No one else. If you think I won’t still love you because you have skeletons in your closet, after I nearly killed us both. You are out of your mind.” 

His eyes widened at your accidental declaration. Love might’ve been strong but you felt something more than just affection for him. He didn’t try to pull away again so you released him, letting your hands fall to your hips. 

“If you want to leave because you don’t feel anything for me, I will understand. But don’t tell me it’s because you don’t think you’re worthy. That just isn’t true.” You swallowed hard, waiting for him to push past you and leave but he didn’t. He simply stood still. So you reached down and took his left hand, slowly slipping the glove off and throwing it the the floor. You held his metal hand in yours, inspecting it delicately 

“Is this why you don’t think you’re worthy?” You asked. James furrowed his brow and blinked as if recalling a painful memory. But he didn’t pull away. You interlocked you fingers with his, 

“Whatever you did before, whatever it is you don’t want to tell me. I don’t hold it against you. And I never will.” 

James blinked rapidly, holding back the tears you could see threatening to spill over. With your other hand you caressed his cheek and he leaned into your touch. 

“You saw the worst side of me and you stayed anyway. What makes you think I wouldn’t do the same for you, James.” You said, leading him to sit on the edge of the mattress. As you sat down, you helped him shrug off the jacket he’d been wearing all day. His mechanical arm was more exposed now, just a cotton sleeve protecting it from your eyes. 

“I’ve hurt a lot of people.” He spoke, his voice hoarse. He rolled up the sleeve to reveal more of his arm. “This arm has done nothing but cause pain until I met you.” He looked at you and the pain you saw in his eyes cut through you like a knife. Carefully, you placed your hand on the cool surface. 

“Did you have a choice? When you hurt them, did you have a choice?” You asked. 

“No.” James choked on the sadness in his throat. Once again you held his face in your hands, your faces inches from each other. 

“Than it isn’t your fault.” You started. “Whatever you’ve done, is not your fault, James.”

His head dropped in defeat and you held him close against your chest. Letting him cry if he needed or simply just feel the warmth of you. For a moment you sat there, holding him to you until he sat up. You flashed him a sympathetic smile, 

“Come, let’s lie down.” 

You both slid into bed, it was not quite big enough for two but you didn’t mind feeling the warmth of him next to you. In fact you curled yourself up against his chest and fell asleep almost instantly. James remained awake, watching you sleep until he couldn’t keep the exhaustion at bay any longer. That night was the most peaceful night either of you had had in a long time.

-------

tags:

@blackbirdwitch22

@queenashen

@annonymsworld

@ladyvenera

@laurxn-robinson

[natimiles]

Just let me adore you (Arthur)

Summary: You loved Mozart, and Mozart loved you. Arthur would just have to deal with it and not bother you again. But it’s easier said than done when you’re left alone on your own birthday.

Words: 1372

Tags: angst; unrequited love; hurt; no comfort; Arthur centric; Mozart is a bit of an asshole (sorry); no pronouns specified for reader.

Notes: I was re-reading some random parts from Living no Matsunaga-san and decided to write something for Ikevamp based on a scene there. I just realized Ryou and Levi kinda look alike. He is so precious; I loved him way more than Matsunaga.

I also listened to “Adore You” by Harry Styles, and now I see the lyrics from a whole different perspective. And the title for the fic comes from the song.

It wasn’t fair.

You deserved so much better. You deserved to be treated like royalty, to be loved, to be taken care of. He had to ensure you were always smiling, always happy, never crying.

However, that’s not what happened.

Arthur could barely restrain himself seeing the tears streaming down your face. How many times has it been now? How many more are you gonna endure? He only made you cry. Mozart only made you cry.

The writer can’t remember when or why he fell for you; he only recalls losing his chance. He remembers talking to Theo, who encouraged him to take action quickly. With half of the mansion having developed feelings for you, he knew it was only a matter of time before someone else confessed.

He was gonna buy you flowers and a nice gift, confess, ask you out properly, and kiss you by the end of the date if he was lucky enough. But before he could finish his lunch to go to town, you and Mozart entered the dining room. 

The scene still haunts him.

Your emotionally overwhelmed face, the bright smile, the flushed cheeks… your hand holding his arm, and he smiling at you. Cutlery fell from hands, drinks were spilled, and he’s pretty sure he heard Isaac gasp and stop breathing by his side. You happily announced you were together, and the romantic music everybody was listening to that morning suddenly made sense. You were so happy. He just congratulated you, along with everyone else, and tried to move on. 

Way easier said than done.

He ended up confessing to you the first time he saw you in tears, going against all his principles of never hitting on a compromised person — much less one in such a vulnerable state! Yet, he did it. He poured his heart out, saying he loved and cherished you, that he would never make you cry. He would never choose his work over you, even if his work was so important to him.

Arthur apologized some time later; he didn’t want to give the impression he was trying to take advantage of your fragile moments. So, he waited for things to calm down and confessed again.

You kindly turned him down both times, and he accepted it with a sad smile and a broken heart. Your heart didn’t belong to him; it belonged to the musician. You loved Mozart, and Mozart loved you — despite not being good at showing it, apparently. He’d just have to deal with it and not bother you with this again.

However, there was so much he could take.

He is leaving the mansion when he sees you standing just outside the door, with a lost gaze, tears streaming down your face. He holds you by the shoulders before he thinks better of his actions, but you don’t seem to mind it. You look at him with the saddest expression he’s ever seen on your face, and he knows.

He doesn’t ask what happened; he doesn’t have to. He simply turns you around and guides you by the shoulders back inside the mansion. He takes you to your room and sits you on your bed, observing how you quietly comply.

“I’ll be right back, okay, luv?” he speaks softly, and you just nod once, your gaze lingering on the floor.

He goes to the kitchen, prepares your favorite tea, and brews some coffee for himself. He considers getting something for you to eat too, but you probably don't want to. He arranges two mugs on the tray and returns to your room. You're in the exact same spot and in the exact same state as he left you, and it hurts him to see you so... numb.

He places the tray on your nightstand and goes to your en suite to grab a towel. Sitting down beside you, he reaches for your face, placing his finger under your chin and lifting it slightly to get a better look at you. Silently, he gently passes the towel over your wet cheeks.

"Try to warm up a little now, won’t you?” He offers you the tea, closing your hands around the mug and holding them in place with his own for a moment longer. “It’s your favorite.”

You just nod again, not really in the mood for talking — and you’re not even sure you’ll be able to say something without crying again. He grabs his mug, and you two drink silently, appreciating your own beverages.

"You… won’t ask?" you inquire after some time. Your voice is so low that he thinks he wouldn’t hear you if he weren’t a vampire with great hearing. It cracks another part of his heart open.

Arthur shakes his head and takes your empty mug back, putting it on the tray with his. “I don’t have to,” he says softly.

He wants to, though. A dark part of him would like to hear you dissing Mozart; perhaps you’d realize that he could be better than the musician — he would certainly try to.

Mozart went out early and hasn’t come back yet, probably too busy with the new concert he is working on. Usually, Arthur would find his hard work relatable; he got too invested in his writing too, losing night after night of sleep sometimes. However, it was your birthday today. Your lover set a birthday date with you and left you standing outside the mansion because of work.

“I wouldn’t do it,” he blurts out in a whisper, completing his thoughts aloud. “If you chose me, I’d never make you cry.”

“Arthur…”

“I want to make you happy. I need you to be.” He reaches for you, cradling your face with a gentle touch. He smiles, but it’s sad and broken, and it doesn’t reach his sorrowful gaze. “You don’t have to love me back… But I love you so much, I can’t take it anymore.”

You’re taken aback. Your breath catches in your throat, your tears drying almost instantly, and a cold shock passes through your whole body. After two confessions, you thought you’d be used to him professing his love. But this… This is so much more. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before. You can practically see him offering his heart on his hands for you. 

“What…” you attempt to speak, but your words falter, lost in the whirlwind of emotions.

Only then does Arthur realize what he just said, widening his eyes. He lets his hands fall limp into his lap, sighing and averting his gaze while mentally cursing himself. He was supposed to be smart, so why does he often act like a fool in front of you? Love really messes with one’s mind.

He closes his eyes and runs his hand through his hair, obviously nervous. He grasps his bangs, tightening his grip in an attempt to stop himself from being an idiot and start acting like a proper man.

“Sorry. This burden is the last thing you need right now,” he mutters, his voice the weakest you’ve ever heard from him. Arthur takes a deep breath and stands up. “But if you… If you need something, you can always call me.” He takes the empty tray and heads to the door, but then he seems to remember something and turns back to you again, forcing a better smile. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

His expression falters the moment he closes the door behind him. Arthur heads straight to his own bedroom, not even bothering to bring the tray to the kitchen; he can do it later. Right now, he just needs to lie down and hope the earth swallows him whole before he embarrasses himself again.

He needs to stop it, he knows that. How is he supposed to control his heart, though? He tried to drown this feeling with different people in town, but he always ended up not wanting to spend the night with them. They weren’t you.

He places the tray on his coffee table and flops down on his bed, covering his eyes with his arm. He feels his blazer getting wet just a few seconds later and lets out a shaky sigh.

It’s going to be another long, lonely evening.

Masterlists

[pt2change]

it’s definitely you — kim taehyung

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre/warning: angst, sad oc, pinch of fluff, happy ending

a/n: hi! fyi if this seems familiar, i posted this before on here an a separate account before i deleted it. okay anyways continue :)

word count: 1k+

↣ bts masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

the bed felt unnaturally empty. you spent hours tossing and turning, trying so hard to get comfortable to sleep. and no matter how many times you closed your eyes, relaxed into your sheets, laying with no thoughts, your mind always came back to him.

you sighed and sat back up, running your hand through your hair. it was absolutely pointless to just continue lying there. and you couldn’t go back to sleep now that he has consumed your mind. you stood up and began pacing around the room.

but, everwhere you looked, there was photos of the two of you. on your dresser, the nightstand, you even kept a small photo of the two of you in your phone case. none of these pictures could fufill the ache you felt inside.

leaving the room wasn’t helpful, especially not when the living room and kitchen contained so many of his things. his favorite blue hoodie on the back of the couch, his growing collection of art supplies in the corner of the living room, the row of his different favorite drinks in the fridge. even the air in your apartment smelled of his cologne.

you put your head in your hands, struggling to keep yourself together. it has only been just little over a week since he left, and you were dying inside.

after a few seconds, you picked your head up, straightened your shoulders, and walked into your kitchen.

you decided to warm up a small cup of your favorite tea in hopes of being able to fall asleep. when your tea was ready, you walked into the living, taking small sips.

as you sat on the couch, you reminisced on the nights he did this for you when you weren’t feeling good and having trouble falling asleep.

you could feel his hands as they caressed your face smoothly and moved your hair away from your face.

you felt a lump in your throat and your eyes began to fill with tears. you set your glass of tea on the small coffee table, no longer having the stomach to finish it.

you curled up into the corner of the couch, grabbing his blue hoodie, and slipping it on. letting out a sigh, you layed on the couch.

you didn’t think it would be this hard to be away from taehyung, but the aching pain your chest grew more and more as the minutes and seconds passed.

but it wasn’t like taehyung wanted to leave. it was the quiet opposite actually, he had no choice.

if he didn’t go, it would’ve messed everything up.

and you knew that. but you weren’t selfish enough to be the one to stop him from achieving one of his dreams. all you ever wanted was for him to be happy.

but all you could think about was his voice, the way his arms wrapped around you, the gentle touch of his lips against your own.

you loved everything about him. absolutely everything.

and you wouldn’t be able to see him for a couple months.

your phone went off suddenly, and you quickly sat up to reach it. one glance at the name on the screen made your stomach feel so many butterflies, and you pressed the green button.

“hello?” you whispered, your voice almost shaking.

“hi y/n.”

and you felt tears slowly run down your cheeks, it had been so long since you heard his voice.

“hey, don’t cry.” taehyung said, his voice soft, hearing you sniffle through the other end. “baby, please don’t cry.”

“i’m sorry.” you stammered, “i just miss you s-so much.”

“i know, i miss you too.” taehyung replied with a tender voice, “but i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you nodded, “okay.” you sniffled, holding back what you really wanted to say.

i miss you. i don’t want to be selfish, but i need you now. not in a few months. when are you coming home?

i love you.

you stayed on the phone, talking about other things for little over an hour. you said goodbye and hung up, without telling him how you felt and how much he means to you.

after all, you and taehyung hadn’t been dating for so long. and you’re terrified you’ll scare him away by telling him you love him.

but immediately after hanging up, you regretted not telling him. you couldn’t help but think that if something happens to him, he would never know just how much he meant to you.

working up the courage to tell him, you began to reach for your phone. but in that moment, the doorbell rang.

you sat up, confused. you couldn’t think of anyone who would show up at your door this late.

then, the doorbell rang again. scurrying to the small hall way closet, you got out a bat you kept as a precaution.

you approached the door, gripping the bat tightly in one hand. you unlocked your locks, turned the door knob, and opened the door.

not even a second later, the bat hit the floor, and began to roll away.

you were in complete shock, staring at the man in front of you in complete disbelief.

“hi baby.” he greeted you with his boxy smile.

you could feel the tears filling up in your eyes again. you leaped into taehyung’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, and his arms around your waist.

you clung onto him tightly, one hand on the back of his neck, and the other on the back of his head.

and he held onto you just as tightly, burying his face into your neck.

“i missed this too.” he quietly whispered into your ear.

you pulled back to look at him, a few tears rolling down your face. “how?”

“come on. did you really think i could stay away from you for that long?” he asked, leaning down pressing his forehead to yours with a smile.

and you felt such a wave of affection run through your body. and just as you opened your mouth, it wasn’t your own voice that you heard.

“i love you, y/n.”

[whisperiin]

hello!! do you have any domestic gray ravens hcs with skk reader? ✨✨

oh this is soooo ... i love this so much this is so cute ... well i definitely do now!!!! i think i got a little carried away so it got super long i'm sorry ... but i hope you enjoy!!

domestic gray ravens

content warnings: none

➸ It's common knowledge how devoted LUCIA is to Gray Raven, and this is true even in relative moments of peace between missions, too. She's a little awkward with it, but she wears her heart on her sleeve — just like how she wears the different scarves she bought in each of your favourite colours. It's actually really easy for her thoughts to return to you. Maybe she passed by a garden and got reminded of the plants Liv keeps, or saw a little malfunctioning robot and thought that Lee would be able to fix it in ten seconds flat, or caught a whiff of that food you said was your favourite — should she maybe get some for you...?

➸ She loves just spending time with everyone. Team dinners are a must for her! But... just let Liv handle the cooking. Lucia also seems like the type to make sure that you, Liv, and Lee all get to go to bed safe and sound, even if you haven't been doing anything except slacking off in the lounge — she'll walk everyone back to their rooms, or at the very least, ask you to send her a little message as soon as you get back.

➸ LEE has similar habits too, but he's just a little more awkward in showing he cares — not that he would ever admit as such. Just like Lucia, he feels just a bit more secure seeing for himself that you got back to your room unscathed. He also prides himself on being perceptive, and he has a tendency to fix problems you or the others might have before you notice them. Have you had trouble waking up lately? No worries, the little robot he gave you now alarms twice as loud!

➸ Lee also made it a point to remember your routines. He has a habit of scolding you if you stay up later than usual, or sighing in that disappointed way he does if you forget to eat a meal. He'll usually go off on some tangent about how a Commandant should be more disciplined than that, but if he's being honest, he just wants to make sure you're healthy. Humans are fragile compared to constructs, he would often say to you, and to Liv and Lucia, We need to maintain our performance, don't we? But that doesn't explain how involved he gets even in little things like double checking everyone's weapons to make sure they're absolutely fine, or even just walking just a bit closer to you if he sees you're uncomfortable or uneasy in any way.

➸ Caring for everyone almost comes as second nature to LIV, even if you or the others would fuss over how she has to care for herself, too. Honestly, she just loves when she's able to help you all in some way — the smiles on your faces and your heartfelt thanks are enough to put a spring in her step for a good while. She also likes messaging everyone little good morning or good night greetings, just to say hello or wish you sweet dreams even if she's already done so in person. Aside from that, she's usually the first to notice when one of you is upset. Maybe your shoulders are a bit more tense than normal, or you're glaring unusually hard at a random spot on the floor. At times like these, she'll gently pluck whatever you might have in your hands away, or lightly put a hand on your shoulder, and insist you get some rest with a smile — she'll even get you something warm to drink to calm you down; how about that?

➸ Liv has memorised everyone's favourite things by now, like whether you prefer coffee or tea or neither, which table at the cafe you all tend to sit at, what kind of colours everyone liles to wear when theyre not in those stiff uniforms. She also has a habit of picking up a few extra things for everyone while she's out and about — Lucia, didn't you mention you were looking at this frog plushie in the mall? Lee, you needed an extra set of tools, right? They had your favourite in stock again, Commandant, you don't mind that I got you some, do you?

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚡

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: this is it... the end (well, minus the epilogue but this is the proper last chapter eeeeeeee)

✮ cw: cheeeeeeesyyyyyyyyy, yeah that's all

✮ wc: 3.2k

cleo blinks at her in surprise. 

she looks a little different, jules realises. her shoulder-length black hair has lost some of its shine and there are circles under her eyes like she hasn’t been sleeping properly. for a moment jules wonders if she should ask. then again they’re not friends… they’re barely even acquaintances. 

“matty’s not home,” she looks apologetic, “i’m…not really sure where he is or when he’s coming back to be honest.”

her heart sinks. so much for gathering up courage. 

“do you… do you still wanna come in?”

jules is about to decline and just go home, but the other girl looks hopeful. like there’s something she wants to spill, and so jules agrees and follows cleo inside. 

the last time she was here things were…decent. still, now that she’s not trying to sneak out as fast as possible, jules has more time to look around. it’s not much to look at honestly—the house screams bachelor pad. for a moment she even feels a little sorry for cleo. it’s cannot be fun to live with two boys who take cleanliness as a suggestion more than anything. but jules keeps that to herself

“do you want something? coffee? tea?” cleo asks, toeing the rug under her foot, “something stronger?”

“coffee would be nice.”

cleo nods and motions for her to sit. while she’s gone, jules looks around with curious eyes. she wonders which of the decorations are matty’s choice and which are george’s. she wonders if cleo’s added anything of her own to the house yet. unlikely, she hasn’t been here for that long. 

“matty tells me you came back from new york,” jules calls out, wondering if she should have just waited until cleo came back. thankfully she does, with two steaming mugs in hand. 

“i did,” she nods, “it was all a bit sudden.”

“right.” the silence between them is awkward and palpable. it’s not that jules doesn’t like her. if anything she feels a little shit for being so jealous before. still, she doesn’t really know what to say to cleo, especially when cleo looks like there’s something on her mind. “i hope it’s nice being back?”

cleo’s jaw ticks and jules knows she’s said the wrong thing. still, cleo smiles, faint and a little unsure. “yeah, for the most part. matty’s made it worth it to be honest.”

“right.” jules cringes again. she’s not here to be jealous or territorial, she’s not here to be hostile. frankly, jules is not sure why she’s here anymore. matty’s not. she should be trying to call him and get a hold of him. 

if he still answered her calls…

“he’s my best friend,” cleo says, her voice firm. jules wonders if she’s imagining the emphasis on friend. still, it does make her feel a little lighter to hear cleo say that. 

“we’ve been arguing a little bit recently but that’s all sorted now.” cleo continues. “still, i—” she clears her throat and takes another sip of her coffee. “i owe you an apology, jules.” 

“an apology?”

“mmm” cleo nods. jules is sure all the questions are very clearly visible all over her face. “shall we sit down and talk?”

jules thinks it through. it’s not like she knows where he is, she could just sit here and wait. besides, all this has made her much more curious than she wants to admit. 

“okay,” she nods, and leans forward with interest. 

her head’s still spinning from the chat. not that it was all that explosive… just confusing if anything. still it looked much more serious to cleo. so much so that at one point jules had thought she was about to cry. 

but now she’s back in her room and thinking it all over, and jules can’t stop thinking how minuscule it feels in the grand scheme of… well… everything. how much she simply does not care about anything else as much as she cares about making things right with matty. 

she hugs pancake closer, staring out the window at the sky that reflects her mood well enough. it’s grey and full of dark clouds, about to burst any minute and start pouring rain hard enough that everything would be washed clean. maybe it would get rid of everything weird between them. maybe it could make them go back to how they were before—happy and carefree and not hiding things from each other. 

not hiding feelings. 

of course the feelings weren’t as complex back then. but now they are, and she wishes he were here to help her make sense of it all. 

she stares at the window just as the first big fat drop hits it. it rolls down, half-down towards the pane when a second drop hits and rolls down just as fast—racing and racing and getting overtaken by a surprise drop within moments. and before she knows it there are a million more drops on her window pane, water running down in sheets and blanketing the world. 

she can barely see the outside world anymore, barely see the trees swaying outside through watery sunlight. 

it feels relaxing to lie down on the bed and just listen to the rain, to focus on the rhythmic tapping on her window and just drift and drift. if she’s lucky enough there won’t be any thunder… just soft rain to lull her into a cosy sleep where she can dream about matty’s arms around her and forget about everything else. 

her eyelids flutter shut, body relaxing as jules focuses on the daydream and the warmth that comes along with it, cocooning her and making her feel safe. she focuses on it until it’s no longer just a daydream but something that feels lucid enough that she can pretend it’s real. 

and only then does she fully succumb to sleep.

jules stirs in her sleep, half-formed dreams crumbling away, as the low rumble from the skies seeps into her consciousness. it isn’t the sharp crack of thunder that would have yanked her awake, but a deep, rolling sound that reverberates through the walls, tugging her from slumber until she’s blinking and groggy and half-awake.

she lays still for a moment, her body heavy with the lingering warmth of sleep. it takes her mind about half a second before it’s churning again though, rumbling with thoughts like the skies outside. 

the empty space beside her in the bed feels unfairly cold. why should she imagine matty there when he’d never even stayed the whole night? why should her mind conjure up the phantom feeling of the warmth of his body cocooning hers—his solid chest against her back, his arms around her, fingers splayed on her hips. his breaths coming out deep and even as he snuggles his face into the crook of her neck. 

it’s unfair that she should be able to make up something like this so convincingly in her mind. that she should be able to trick herself into almost believing it. 

jules wraps her arms around herself, trying to pacify herself like a child. 

it’s well past dinner-time, she realises. besides, jules is not hungry to begin with, so there’s no point in forcing herself to get out of bed and make food. so she just rolls onto her back again, trying to ignore the thunder, and tries to fall back asleep. 

it’s not easy. she keeps drifting in and out, keeps cringing from the booming thunder and the loud, whooshing wind. she alternates between staring at the ceiling and closing her eyes, until…

it’s faint at first, almost indistinguishable from the patter of the rain that’s falling hard now, but then it grows more distinct. tiny clinks, like pebbles tapping against glass, breaking through the stillness.

jules sits up, her heart quickening. she listens closely—the noise is persistent, deliberate; tiny rocks against her window. 

she almost bolts upright, getting herself tangled in the covers in her hurry to get of the window. the floor is cool against her socks-clad feet. she crosses the room, her breath catching as she reaches the window and peers outside.

and then there he is—matty, his figure hazy in the drizzle, his hair damp and his clothes clinging to his frame. he’s right under her window, squinting up and trying not to get rainwater in his eyes. he has a handful of small rocks in his palm, ready to toss another at her window.

“the flat has a door,” she calls out. it’s a lame attempt at a joke, but matty shrugs and stands there without cracking a smile. 

“this feels fitting.”

she wants to ask why, but jules is a little afraid of knowing the real answer. 

“alright,” she shrugs, and then without even thinking, swings her leg over the window pane, clutching onto the same pipe mattty had used to climb into her room all those days ago. 

matty drops the rocks instantly, rushing to get under her. his eyes are wide and his arms outstretched. 

“what the fuck are you doing?!” he yells over the rain. jules can hear the tremor of panic in his voice. she just shrugs as best as she can. 

the pipe is slippery under her hands. there’s no way she can find her grip onto it with her socks-clad feet that are now completely drenched. still, jules clings to it, shaking like a leaf, and slides her way down one inch at a time. 

“there’s a fucking door,” matty yells again. if she weren’t all focused on trying not to slip, she would have laughed at how he sounds like he’s going to lose his mind. 

“i know,” she calls out, voice barely audible over the whooshing wind, “this feels fitting.”

under her, she can practically feel him running his hands through his hair in frustration. he’s overreacting, jules wants to tell him. she won’t die if she falls, she won’t even break any bones. she might get a nasty bruise and a sprain to match but apart from that… there’s no reason to worry about her. 

still, a part of her wants to gloat over it. 

besides… he won’t let her get hurt. jules is certain that if she falls, matty would be right there to catch her. 

jules cringes the moment her feet touch the ground. she’s stepped directly into a tiny puddle of mud—cold and icky and wet. but her grimace melts away the moment she feels matty’s hands on her waist, steadying her, making sure she doesn’t slip and fall right before turning around to face him. 

turning around to face him… 

right… that’s still left. somehow that scares her more than sliding down the pipe in the pouring rain. 

her heart hammers in her chest—half from the adrenaline, half from the anticipation—and jules tries to take a steadying breath. perhaps she should leverage this adrenaline and get this over with before she runs out of courage. 

“hi jules,” matty whispers behind her. he says it in a normal tone, voice flat and a little shaky. maybe he’s cold, she thinks naively. 

“hi,” she closes her eyes shut. and finally jules turns. 

“cleo said you came by…”

“mmm,” she nods, at a loss for words. 

jules breathes in, trying to corral all the thoughts and words in her head in an orderly fashion. 

“what did you want?”

her ears perk up. matty sounds almost hopeful when he asks, or he sounds merely curious like he always has and she’s projecting, but jules is simply too busy wondering where she should start this. 

“so your show—”

“that’s two for two now…” matty smiles in a bittersweet, crooked way, “two for two that haven’t ended the way i wanted them too.”

if she weren’t so nervous, she would have laughed. but jules simply ignores him and starts again. 

“the things he said, max… i wanted to just say sorry… i—”

“why are you saying sorry!” matty cuts in again, properly agitated now. he isn’t done, jules can see that. and she can’t let him get a word in before she’s done saying her piece. she’s going to lose her nerve otherwise. 

“no shut up, shut up,” she squeezes her eyes shut to stop the water from falling in her eyes, to get rid of the little puddle formed on her eyelashes. “i need to get this out. in one piece.”

matty, despite the guarded expression on his face, manages to look amused. he jerks his chin once—go on—and pulls down the drenched sleeves of his t-shirt over his palm.

jules takes a shaky breath, her chest heaving with the effort of holding back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. the rain beats down relentlessly, soaking her hair and plastering it against her forehead, but she doesn’t care. all she can focus on is matty standing in front of her, his eyes locked on hers with a peculiar mix of frustration and something softer—something she doesn’t deserve but desperately craves.

“i’m sorry,” she finally chokes out, her voice breaking. “i’m so, so sorry, matty. i didn’t mean to push you away. i thought i was protecting you, protecting myself, but… i was just scared. scared of what you make me feel, of how much i wanted you… want you…”

his lips part a little, breath hitching like he’s about to interject but she places a hand on his chest, effectively shushing him. “it was all starting to blend, how much i wanted max in the beginning and how much i want you now, and then you punched him like that for me… for me!”

“of c—”

“no, you don’t understand! he won’t have done it for me! but you did! you did when we had a million rules and a pact not to get emotions involved and you’re a million times better than he will ever be but—” she chokes, sniffling like a child and fully aware of the warm teardrops running down her cheeks mixed with cold rain. 

“then there was cleo and i thought—”

“cleo?” matty raises and incredulous eyebrow, quite taken aback. “what does she have to do with us?!”

with us… even after everything he speaks of them in terms of ‘we’ and ‘us’. a unit. 

matty’s expression softens. he doesn’t say anything, just watches her, waiting, giving her the space to let it all out. his silence is both a comfort and a torment, but she knows he’s listening, really listening, and it makes her heart ache even more.

jules wipes her face with the back of her hand, not that it does much good with the rain pouring down, but it’s a futile attempt to keep herself together. 

“you kept blowing me off for her and… and i thought…”

“you thought…”

“well, i thought about rule number four. about how this would all end the moment we met someone and i realised i was about to lose everything…”

matty’s face changes instantly. there’s no trace of amusement or softness, instead he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“why does everyone keep thinking i’m in love with cleo, what the fuck!” 

jules, a lot more taken aback by the sudden outburst, chooses not to dig deeper into it. if they get through this, she’d have other times to ask about it. if they didn’t… oh well, then it won’t matter at all anyway. 

“i wasn’t blowing you off!” matty yells, incredulous once again, “i was spending time with my best friend who came back so fucking sudden and clearly needed people around her! jules… is that what this was about?!”

well, when he puts it that way, she realises how stupid and territorial and possessive she sounds—all that over someone who isn’t even hers in the first place. 

jules bites her lip, her shoulders slumping slightly as if the weight of the entire world is on them. “maybe,” she admits quietly, her voice barely audible over the pounding rain. “maybe i was scared i was asking for too much, asking for something you weren’t willing to give.”

matty sighs, exasperated but softening as he steps closer, his hand reaching out to brush a wet strand of hair from her face. his touch is gentle, lingering, and it sends a shiver down her spine that has nothing to do with the cold.

“you told me not to call you darling anymore,” matty murmurs. “you kept pulling away from me. i thought… i thought you were done. i thought it stopped being fun for you and you…”

he steps even closer, their bodies almost touching now, and jules feels her breath hitch. his hand moves from her hair to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears. “we are fucking idiots,” he whispers, laughing, his forehead pressed against hers. “we both wanted the same thing and we just…”

jules closes her eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch, the way his breath mingles with hers. she laughs too—a little out of disbelief, mostly out of relief. 

we both wanted the same thing. 

the same thing…

her heart is racing, and for a moment, she forgets the rain, the cold, the fear—everything except the boy standing in front of her, the one who’s always been there, even when she pushed him away. 

“this is so cheesy,” she giggles, tasting her salty tears on her lips once again. matty snorts too. she thinks he might make another useless comment, linger awkwardly, unsure what to do next. 

instead, ​​before she can respond, his lips are on hers—soft and warm and everything she’s ever wanted. the rain continues to pour down around them, but jules doesn’t care. all she can feel is matty’s hands on her waist, pulling her closer, his lips moving against hers with a sweet urgency that makes her dizzy.

she wraps her arms around his neck, melting into him, losing herself in the kiss. she’s done this a million times—kissed him, explored the insides of his mouth and felt the weight of his tongue on hers. she has kissed him until her lips are red and raw and swollen, until her mouth tastes like him. 

she has snogged him and fucked him and lusted after him. but this is the first time jules simply holds him. 

just a girl kissing a boy in the pouring rain. 

it’s so cliché she can’t help but giggle. matty grins too, wide and so infectious she feels it through their kiss. 

“it’s like we’re sixteen,” she laughs, “i think i would have died if i got to kiss my crush in the rain at sixteen.”

the moment she says it, jules flushes and then groans. my crush… yeah matty’s going to remind her of this for a long long time. 

“should we hold hands now,” he teases, and kisses her again, fingers intertwined, his thumb drawing circles on the back of her hands. 

just a kiss. it’s just a kiss. 

and she can do it any time she wants to—kiss him and look at him and hold him. the rest, she thinks, can be figured out later. right now she has time. 

right now, they have all the time in the world.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 24

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

“He asked me to move in with him.” I couldn't keep the word vomit from leaving my mouth as I settled into a little booth across from Tori with a coffee between my hands.

Her eyebrows seemed to raise about three inches and she didn't say anything at first.

“It's crazy, I know.” I shook my head.

“How long have you been with him?”

“A month.” I made a face.

“Does he, like, ejaculate gold coins or something?” Tori asked, laughing as she spoke.

I laughed with her and shook my head, looking down. “I don't know. I've never been like this. He's just got this way about him.”

“What's his house like?”

A small smile crept onto my face and she cut in before I could answer.

“He's rich, isn't he?”

“He lives in this, like, mini castle.”

“A castle?”

“Well, that's what it looks like. It's really cool.”

“Okay, so my suspicions are correct.”

I swallowed hard, eager to hear her theories. “What suspicions?”

“He ejacs gold coins.”

I laughed again, actually pleased she hadn't said something serious. I wasn't in the mood for sinister scenarios that would only heighten my internal anxiety over the situation.

“I don't even care about the house or whatever. I just.. I'm falling way too fast for this guy.” My eyes met here across the table. “Do you think I'm crazy?”

Tori gave a half smile and a shrug. “A little.” She smiled fully and sipped her coffee. “It is a little fast.”

“It's very fast.”

“Okay, it's very fast,” she agreed. “But, it's your call. What's your gut telling you? I'd ask what your heart’s telling you but I'm pretty sure I already know that. And the heart can be misleading.” Tori motioned to me with her drink as she emphasized the last part.

“Yeah.” I sighed and reached into a small paper bag for the muffin I’d ordered with my coffee.

“Well, how about this?” Tori went on when I broke off a piece of the muffin top. “If things work out with Mr. “Joel Gold Coins”,” she used her fingers to do the air quotes and I snickered, “Then I better be the maid of honor. And if it ends up not being what you thought, then there's always a room for you at 355 Ellie Drive.”

I looked toward my friend and let out another exhale through my nose. She was so understanding and not judgmental. I had disappeared off the face of the earth for a month since meeting Dr. Miller and she never questioned a thing.

“I'm sorry if I've been a bad friend,” I started but she reached for my hand and wagged a finger.

“You haven't been a bad friend,” she disagreed. “We’re at pivotal points in our lives. And I guess the lucky part is that we've kind of both found the same thing in the same time frame.” Tori shrugged, “It happens. We’re.. growing up.”

I smiled, “Adulting?”

“Ugh, you know I hate that word.”

I laughed and then sighed again with a more serious expression. “Thank you, Tori.”

“You're welcome.”

“I mean it. Thank you.” I sipped my coffee again. “Now, I'm done making this all about me. Tell me about Derek.”

My friend bit her bottom lip and spilled all the recent tea about her beau. I knew Derek. I liked him. The fact that he would be there with her full time took away some of the guilt I was experiencing. Tori appeared excited and happy and light as air. Getting a chance to sit and talk was rejuvenating. As much as I enjoyed the intensity of my time with Dr. Miller, I appreciated the lighthearted feeling I had being in Tori’s company.

“Once a week,” my friend pointed at me as we finally left the little coffee shop, “And that's nonnegotiable.”

“Once a week. And I'll be back soon to get my clothes and stuff.” I nodded and we exchanged a hug. “I'm going to head into LL Bean,” I said motioning to the store a few doors down on the little street.

“I have to go to work or I'd gladly spend a good hundred bucks in there with you.”

���Okay, be safe. I miss you.”

Tori blew a kiss. “See you soon.”

I waved goodbye and headed into the store, mostly in search of a good pair of winter boots.

If I happen to walk out with a sweater or two, so be it, I thought internally with a smile. Or maybe a hat for our ski wedding weekend.

An older man greeted me with a friendly, “Hello,” from behind a cash register off to the left. I smiled and waved before making the trek up a flight of stairs to the second floor where I knew the women's shoe section was.

A rack of on-sale sweaters and shirts conveniently greeted me near the top of the stairs and I gave it a lengthy browse. A knee length blue and white sweater dress caught my eye and I draped it over my arm before moving on toward the shoes.

“(Y/N)?” A female voiced my name quietly and I turned my attention away from the wall of boots in front of me.

When I glanced over my left shoulder I froze. Christine, Dr. Miller’s ex-wife, had just exited the dressing room. She was dressed more casually than our first meeting, sporting jeans and a sweater with a winter hat.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly.

“How are you doing?” She asked, as if we were friends or acquaintances that hadn't seen one another for awhile.

“I'm fine.” I forced a smile. “How are you?”

“Good.” Christine smiled back and bluntly asked, “Are you still seeing Joel?”

I gave a little nod, hoping that would be the end of that. Of course it wasn't.

“Look, woman to woman,” she said, beginning to pace in my direction. “I don't want to see you get hurt the way I did. Just.. be careful. Joel has this charisma that can really be..” She took a few seconds as she searched for the correct word, “Blinding.”

“I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean by that.” I didn't want to have this conversation. People broke up all the time and could easily list off the reasons why their former partner was terrible. It didn't mean those two people couldn't move on and find someone more compatible for them. Everyone has flaws.

“I fell for him,” Christine nodded and stared at me, “Fast. Hard.” She shook her head and maintained eye contact, “He has secrets, (Y/N).”

“Don't we all?” I tried to sound casual and glanced down at the sweater on my arm.

“Not these kind of secrets.”

“Well, what are these kind of secrets?” I asked.

Christine sighed, looking around as she did before finding my eyes again. “That's something I'll take to my grave.. but also something I couldn't live with.”

I wasn't typically one to speak up, but I couldn't help myself now. “So, woman to woman you came here to warn me, but you can't tell me about what? You just want me to be careful because of Joel's secrets but you won't tell me what those secrets are?” I shook my head, “If you were actually looking out for me, you'd tell me.” I wandered away from the boots section back toward the staircase.

“It's the least I can do,” Christine called out.

I took the stairs back to the bottom floor. All the life that Tori had breathed into me, Christine had sucked out. I was so taken aback that I almost walked out with the sweater without paying for it. Hell, I hadn't even tried it on.

I stopped myself before closing in on the door and made a hard right toward the register.

“Find everything you were looking for?” The old man asked with a friendly grin.

I wanted to match his cheeriness but I just couldn't. Still, I managed a smile. “Yes, thank you.” He scanned the tag, I swiped my card and then headed back out onto the street.

I was going to tell Dr. Miller about bumping into Christine. I wasn't about to accuse him of anything but I needed to at least ask what she was referring to. Of course he had secrets - or at least some unknowns he promised to tell in due time. As much as I needed to know, I wasn't going to bombard him simply because his ex-wife bombarded me.

She hated me, Dr. Miller had claimed. I was sure at least part of her approaching me had something to do with sabotaging him.

I shook my head and hurried across the street to an ATM. Having a little cash on me at all times was something my parents had always advised me to do, and it was a habit I'd carried into adulthood.

I looked around the immediate area and then back to the doors of LL Bean to see if Christine had come out. I wanted to get out of the area as soon as possible and cozy up by a warm fire, as Dr. Miller had promised.

As I slipped my card into the machine, I envisioned it for a moment, trying to push away the negative thoughts that had been bestowed upon me. It worked - sort of.

I punched in my four digit code and selected to remove sixty dollars. Again, I looked over my shoulder as the ATM worked its magic. When the screen instructed me to remove my card, I did just that and then tucked it away back into my purse.

The money dispensed and upon collecting it, I looked at the screen again. If it had been a cartoon I swear my eyes would have popped right out of my head.

This has to be a mistake. I looked at the balance. It was all wrong.

“What the hell?”

The receipt shot out next as the screen switched to a simple, THANK YOU, in bold letters. I ripped the receipt from its place and studied the numbers. The balance on the thin piece of white paper matched that of the balance on the screen.

This has to be a mistake.

As I stood in disbelief, staring at the fifty-seven thousand dollars that was now said to be in my account, my eyes glanced up and I saw Christine staring at me from across the street. I felt like she knew exactly what I was staring at on that money slip.

When she shook her head, I crumpled the paper and forced it into my coat pocket before rushing to my car and driving away from that quaint, little street in the center of town.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

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