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jimxnslight · 3 months ago

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All This Time? || JJK

Summary: Another day, another boyfriend caught cheating. You’re hardly surprised, but before you can even process another one of many betrayals, your best friend Jungkook offers a solution: a blind date. The twist? The guy Jungkook has in mind might not be a stranger at all.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: f2l, fluff, a bit of angst

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: I dare you to take a shot everytime Jungkook manhandles Y/N 💀 but anyways, when I tell you these two are so cute, had me giggling and kicking my feet while I was writing them lowkey 😭 I will be writing the “blind” date, so this will have a second part!

Part 1 || Part 2

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Jungkook wait-! Oh my god, put those keys down right now!”

“No.”

“Jungkook!”

“No.”

You groaned, eyes rolling so far back into your head you might all well have passed out right then and there. Currently, your arms were wrapped around Jungkook’s inked bicep, trying to pry the car keys from his fingers with all the strength you possessed, but you might as well have picked a fight with Godzilla himself. In fact, with how easily Jungkook was putting his shoes on while fending you off, you might as well have not been there at all.

That realisation made you let go of his arm with a huff, the glare you sent him also doing nothing to stop the man from tightening the laces of his shoes. The moment he stood, you scrambled to place yourself in front of his main door, crossing your arms as Jungkook walked over to you with an unimpressed look - as if you were being the immature one here.

“Y/N, move.”

“No,” you countered, happy to throw the word back in his face.

“Y/N-”

“No! You’ll go to jail and then I’ll have to take Bam in and he’ll crap on everything I own!”

Jungkook’s jaw instantly dropped in offense, “it was one time.”

“Oh please, I saw the way he was looking at my tulips the last time he was at my place,” you threw a critical eye towards the hallway, knowing very well that Bam was probably lurking somewhere behind those cream-coloured walls, “that dog is just waiting to strike, I know it.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” your hands dropped to your hips as you shifted your gaze back to the black-haired man before you, already clad in a navy and beige tracksuit, “you’re just going to- what? Beat the hell out of a man and expect to get away scot-free?”

“That sorry excuse of a man needs to be taught a lesson on loyalty, and I have no problem giving him one. Now move.”

“No.”

A frustrated breath escaped Jungkook’s lips as he stared down at your stubborn form, a muscle in his jaw flexing in the process. He looked annoyed, clearly irritated by the fact that you were preventing him from making good on his earlier threat. You knew you shouldn’t have found it amusing - maybe even a little attractive - but still, his furrowed brows and displeased lips did nothing to stifle your triumphant smile.

Jungkook’s gaze narrowed at your smug grin, something shifting in his eyes as he scanned you. For a moment, you genuinely believed he was going to let it go and return to the video game the two of were playing before all hell broke loose. You almost began to celebrate preventing a life full of Bam's poop in your apartment.

But you should have known you weren’t the only stubborn person in this room.

Jungkook stepped forward, earning him a suspicious look, but before you could ask what he was doing, he suddenly wrapped an arm around your legs and pulled.

“Oh my god-!” You gasped, lurching forward as you were abruptly hoisted onto his shoulder, as though you were nothing but a sack of potatoes. Your hands instantly grabbed onto the back of his jacket, not realising just how tall Jungkook really was until that moment.

“Are you insane-?! Put me down!”

“No,” he said, and you could practically see the smug look that must’ve been gracing his lips then.

“Jeon Jungkook, put me down right now!” You practically screeched, your grip on his jacket tightening desperately when he began walking towards his living room - with you still on his shoulder. If you weren’t so scared of falling on your face you might've died of embarrassment.

“Bad, Jungkook! Stay! Or sit, or whatever- just put me down!”

He snorted, “I’m not a dog.”.

You groaned, letting your forehead smack against his back. You had to ignore the feel of his muscles flexing after each step, “you’re right, Bam would’ve actually listened.”

As if summoned by his name, Bam suddenly bounded into the living room with a happy bark, his dark and light brown fur gleaming underneath the light of Jungkook’s lamps. He was jumping up and down excitedly, as if the sight of you thrown over Jungkook’s shoulder was the most marvelous thing to witness.

That made you huff. “Just look at him. I bet he’s excited because he thinks you’ll finally let him eat me.”

“Leave him alone, you’ve hated that dog since day one.”

Bam’s bark reverberated around the room, causing your gaze to snap to him, but it narrowed when you noticed him now sitting patiently on his hind legs, head tilted in your direction. His gaze was laser focused, boring into you so much that your lips parted to ask Jungkook why he was acting so weird.

But before you could, Bam suddenly lunged towards you, making you shriek.

“Bam, sit,” Jungkook ordered instantly, his voice straining as he fought the laugh threatening to escape his throat. You shot daggers at the dog now obediently sitting back, face innocent as ever.

Stupid dog. And his even stupider dad.

Another shriek almost escaped your lips when Jungkook suddenly dropped you from his shoulder, your back landing on the soft cushion of his couch. With how tightly you’d been clutching his jacket, it was a miracle you hadn’t ripped it off him as you fell.

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest as he towered over your seated form.

“Alright, I’ve humoured you for long enough, but no more. What is going on with you, Y/N?”

“Me?” You scoffed incredulously, “your dog just tried to kill me and you’re-”

“Not that,” he cut you off with a shake of his head, “you just found out your boyfriend cheated on you and you don’t seem to care at all.”

You froze, the sudden change in topic catching you off guard. You didn’t expect him to bring it up so bluntly - or rather bring it up at all. Jungkook had made it clear that he hated your boyfriend since day one, so you had honestly expected him to breeze past this development in relief.

You pursed your lips, racking your brain for a reasonable excuse that would satisfy him.

“We were only together for like half a year, it’s not like I’m going to fall apart over a guy I barely even dated.”

“I don’t want you falling apart over any guy, especially that trash bag,” he said instantly, “it’s just… when you found out Saejin cheated on you all those years ago I had to practically beg you not to key his car.”

“Funny how the tables have turned…” You muttered, but Jungkook just gave you an unimpressed look.

Your gaze dropped to your lap, unsure of how to change the subject to something a bit more lighthearted, and a bit less embarrassing. But the logical part of you knew that once Jungkook was stuck on something, it was nearly impossible to deter him. And he seemed very stuck on this topic right now.

Your hesitance caused the silence to stretch until Jungkook’s doe eyes suddenly widened, the realisation dawning on him.

“Oh my god, you already knew didn’t you?”

“I didn’t know know,” you countered immediately, “I just… had a feeling.”

Jungkook raised a brow. “How long?”

“You know, I think it’s getting late maybe I should-”

“How long?”

You squirmed under his sharp gaze, “a month or two? Or… four.”

“Four months?” Jungkook repeated incredulously.

“Like I said it was just a feeling,” you opposed, feeling the need to defend yourself, “I didn’t actually find out until yesterday when I found the girl’s bra in his car.”

“I don’t understand, if you suspected that Jaehyun was cheating on you then why didn’t you confront him? Or even just figure it out on your own? You know I would’ve helped you out.”

The Y/N Jungkook knew would’ve confronted him the second you had any inkling of a doubt; the fact that you hadn’t was making him nervous. He prayed that the guess he had in his mind was wrong, because the thought of you going through something like that all these months alone was a nightmare come to life.

“I just thought I was being paranoid.”

“You’ve never been an unreasonable person, if you suspected something it had to be for a reason. So, why would you think that?”

Your fingers began to fidget with each other as your gaze continued to stay fixed on your lap, the embarrassment of it all making you feel small. But the moment Jungkook noticed the shift in your demeanor, he sank into the cushion next to you, an arm ghosting over your back as it found purchase on the sofa behind you.

And then, as though also detecting the change in mood, Bam suddenly jumped up from his stationary position and scurried over to you both. A melancholy noise sounded from the back of his throat before he plopped his head onto your lap, big puppy eyes staring up at you curiously.

“Come on, you know you can tell me anything,” he assured, the softness in his voice making your head spin, “there’s nothing you could say that would stop me from being here for you, I promise.”

“Cringe,” you mumbled mindlessly, masking the sound of your suddenly rapid heartbeat.

“Y/N…”

“I know, I know,” you said, your voice unintentionally matching his softness. Your hand moved to brush over Bam’s sleek fur in defeat, earning you a pleased woof, “I wanted to prove a point.”

Jungkook’s head tilted in question, eyes following the movement of your hand.

“Do you remember that Christmas dinner my mom held last year, the one where Hyunjin dumped me during dessert?”

“Bit difficult to forget. It took everything in me not to break his nose.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Well, after everyone went home my mom and I were cleaning up, and she started joking around about how I couldn’t keep a boyfriend for longer than a year. I know she was just trying to cheer me up, and she probably didn’t mean it that way, but it got me wondering… why is it that I just can’t seem to stay in a long term relationship?”

You swallowed hesitantly, the words that had been plaguing your mind for months finally finding an outlet, “I wondered if maybe I was the problem, that maybe my expectations were too high or I was too paranoid as a girlfriend or something. So when I got with Jaehyun I decided to be a bit more… laid back, you know? Like letting a few things go and all.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he absorbed your words, his jaw tightening in frustration. “Let a few things go?” he repeated, voice laced with disbelief, “Y/N, you let him cheat on you for four months.”

“Okay, obviously when you put it like that, it sounds bad-”

“Because it is bad. Letting things go doesn’t mean ignoring red flags the size of Bam. What were you thinking?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I was thinking maybe I was too demanding before. That if I just relaxed, maybe I could finally have something that lasted.”

Jungkook shook his head, unimpressed, but his voice was still soft when he spoke, “lasted? Y/N, do you want a relationship that lasts, or one that actually makes you happy? Because those aren’t always the same thing.”

“Then what is it, Jungkook?” You threw your hands up, catching the way your voice cracked in frustration, unintentionally revealing just how heavy this topic had been weighing down on you recently, “what is it about me that’s so hard to love?”

“Loving you is the easiest thing in the world,” he shot back, making something in your chest flutter, but then he seemed to catch himself and cleared his throat quickly, “I mean, there’s no way you’re blaming yourself for how those relationships went down. Come on, Y/N, every one of those guys was a moron and a half.”

Your laugh lacked any humour, “yeah? Then what does that say about me? I’m the one who keeps picking them.”

A look passed through his eyes, something firm but tender. There was something else too, a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

“It says that you see the best in people, even when they don’t deserve it,” he said, gaze unwavering, as though he wanted to make sure you understood every word that dropped from his lips. “It says you give chances when others wouldn’t. That’s not a bad thing, Y/N.”

“It sure as hell feels like it,” you scoffed, looking down at your hands. Bam’s nose nudged against your fingers.

Jungkook’s gaze softened. He shifted closer to you, his knee brushing against yours in the process, “look, I get it. You wanted to prove you could make something work. But settling for less than you deserve just to keep a relationship going? That’s not proving anything. That’s just punishing yourself.”

You hated how easily he cut through your defenses, how he always seemed to see right through you no matter how well you thought you were hiding it. But then again, you’ve been best friends for years, it shouldn't have surprised you at this point.

You swallowed, your throat feeling dry, “yeah, well… it’s not like it matters anymore anyway.”

Jungkook studied you for a long moment, the close proximity making the action stand out way more than it should have, but just when you were about to find an excuse to put some much-needed distance between you, he suddenly stood.

You blinked, “where are you going?”

“To beat the hell out of Jaehyun.”

“Oh my god,” you rolled your eyes, grabbing his wrist, “Jungkook, no!”

“Jungkook, yes.”

You groaned, your hold on his wrist tightening. Truth be told, you actually had no clue just how serious he was being. On one hand, there was a possibility that he was joking, but, considering how much he’s held back all these years despite hating every single one of your boyfriends, there may be some real pent up frustration he was finally ready to let go of.

“Please sit back down,” you whined, tugging at his arm uselessly. He barely budged, the hours he spent in the gym clearly trumping the couple minutes you spent on the treadmill three months ago. Instead, the edge of his lips twitched in amusement as he watched your sad attempts at getting him back on the couch.

But then, without a warning, he tugged against your grip, pulling you off the couch with ease.

You stumbled forward, colliding right into his chest, and before you knew it Jungkook’s arms had circled around your form. Your breath stalled for a second, the action catching you completely by surprise, but then you found yourself slowly easing into it, your own arms hesitantly wrapping around his torso.

“Please don’t ever doubt yourself like that again, okay?” He murmured against your hair as his hand raised to caress your back soothingly, “your confidence is the best thing about you, and no one should be able to take that away, especially that loser.“

There was something so intimate about this moment that you couldn’t help but nod shyly into his chest, your voice failing you.

Ironic.

With your cheek pressed against his chest, you could hear his heart beating rapidly against his ribs. Though the logical part of you knew you were probably just mistaking your own heartbeat for his. You’ve known Jungkook for years, but being this close to him seemed to be making your body malfunction in ways you thought it never could.

Jungkook wrapped a strand of your hair around his finger absentmindedly as he spoke.

“Things are going to be better next time, I promise.”

“There’s no need,” you snorted, inwardly finding his promise kind of sweet, “I’m swearing off dating for the rest of my life. I’m starting to think it’s just not for me-”

“No!”

You paused, pulling back to look up at him with wide eyes. His expression was a reflection of your own, as though he himself was surprised by his reaction. There was a silent pause, long enough for Bam to tilt his head in question at the suddenly odd atmosphere, before you spoke slowly.

“No?”

He cleared his throat with a nervous chuckle, black strands of hair falling against his forehead as his gaze strayed from your own, “I- um… I meant that you shouldn’t just give up, you know? I’m sure there’s someone out there and all.”

“What’s the point? It’s not like I’ve got anyone in mind, and I don’t believe in dating apps.”

“What if…” Jungkook hesitated, mind racing as he grasped at some reason, any reason, for you not to give up just yet. There was an idea already forming in the back of his mind, one he couldn’t believe he was actually considering, but he couldn’t stop the words when they suddenly began to tumble from his lips.

“What if I set you up with someone?”

“You?” This time you pulled away from him entirely, eyes wide as you searched his hesitant face. You would have thought he was joking if it weren’t for how serious his tone seemed. But it was so ridiculous. Jungkook setting you up with someone? You’ve only met a few of his friends: Namjoon, Taehyung, and you think Jin…? Did Jungkook have any of them in mind?

“Yeah,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck, “I might know someone that would be a good fit…”

“Oh? You been holding out on me, Jeon?”

He shrugged, gaze still traveling everywhere but in your direction, “something like that.”

“Do I at least get a name?”

“No.”

Your brows furrowed, “Jungkook, I swear if it’s some weirdo you play games with online-”

Jungkook laughed softly, his bunny-like grin gleaming, “no one online, I know him very well actually.”

“Then who?” You pushed, “is it an old friend or-”

“Are you in or not?” He interrupted with a raised brow. On the inside he was nervous out of his mind, the opportunity he’d been waiting forever for finally presenting itself. But then he noticed your hesitance and his voice softened.

“Just trust me, okay? I wouldn’t set you up with just anyone.”

Well… you did trust Jungkook… with your life actually. And besides, there was no way you were going to pass up on a chance to see who Jungkook thought would be a good fit for you. Was it someone studious and quiet? Extroverted and wild?

“Okay fine,” you finally gave in, curiosity getting the best of you, “but only on one condition.”

Jungkook straightened up, his nervousness multiplying tenfold.

“No, killing Jaehyun.”

He groaned, flopping back onto the sofa dramatically.

“You’re too mean.”

“And you’re dramatic.”

“I’m the dramatic one?” Jungkook’s brow raised, “you stayed with a cheater for 6 months because of some stupid Christmas party comment. That’s dramatic.”

“You’re a dead man, Jeon Jungkook.”

You grabbed a pillow from the sofa and threw it at his head, an action he of course blocked easily with a laugh. You tried to throw another at him, but he grabbed your wrist and tugged, causing the pillow to drop from your hand and accidentally land on Bam. The doberman barked in annoyance, shaking his head as if he were disappointed by the childish theatrics before him.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry,” Jungkook laughed, fending off your pillows until he grabbed your other wrist, causing both your hands to stall momentarily. Your own laugh escaped your lips as you pushed forward, shoving both pillows into his face.

“God, aren’t you feisty today?” He managed to say between the pillows before sitting forward and wrapping an arm around your waist. You yelped when he pulled you back onto the couch beside him, the distraction causing you to drop the pillows onto the floor. Jungkook grinned at your defeated form.

“You done?”

You turned to shoot back a reply, but paused when you caught sight of him. His practically black hair was ruffled into a mess, framing the dips of his face, while his chest rose and fell slightly quicker than earlier. You watched as he pushed himself forward a bit as he began to unzip his navy and beige jacket, shrugging it off only a moment later. Underneath was a short sleeve black t-shirt that revealed his toned figure and biceps.

Just like that the comeback died on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re the last person to talk. You’re dating history is a nightmare,” you muttered instead, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’ve only had one girlfriend in the past few years.”

You snorted, watching as Bam made his way next to Jungkook’s seated form, “yeah, and that girlfriend was worse than all my boyfriends combined.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose in a grimace as the bitter memories resurfaced, “okay, I admit that choice wasn’t my best. But there’s no way she was worse than your boyfriends.”

“Jungkook, come on… She put strawberries in my food during the summer party last year so that I would leave early - and I don’t even know what I did for her to do that. She was insane.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched as he recalled that scary moment, remembering how she’d dropped small bits of strawberry into your food when you weren’t looking, knowing you were allergic to them. Thankfully, your allergy wasn’t so severe, so the most you’d gotten were hives and a bad cough, but Jungkook had been terrified. He’d driven you to the hospital immediately, even though you’d insisted you would be fine. And then when everything had come to light a few days later, he’d been furious, breaking up with her on the spot.

“My bad, I tend to repress most memories of her,” he muttered, “you’re right, she was a nightmare.”

He sighed, trying to rid his mind of that woman. It automatically fell back on your condition, which made him groan.

“Fine, I won’t kill Jaehyun.”

You smiled in satisfaction, “thank yo-”

“Although, I’m not responsible if he accidentally trips and falls onto my fist.”

“Jungkook!”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled, trying to stifle his amusement, “no violence.”

You narrowed your eyes in his direction, making him raise his hand in surrender.

With Jungkook finally subdued, the atmosphere was allowed to settle into a comfortable silence, nothing but the sounds of nightlife - you hadn’t even realised it had gotten so late - bustling four floors below. The two of you watched Bam make his way between you before jumping onto the couch. You remembered when he was just a small puppy, so small that you could’ve scooped him up with one hand. Now he was much bigger, his body barely fitting in the space between you and Jungkook as he settled into the cushion, this time resting his head on Jungkook’s lap. Jungkook’s hand scratched softly behind his ears, the action so warm you felt it in your chest.

“So, where exactly will this mystery date take place?” You asked, eyes still trained on the adorable moment before you.

Jungkook shrugged, the grin on his face answer enough, “you’ll find out then.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re so impatient.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting to the side as you brought your legs to your chest. You rested your head against the back of the sofa, watching Bam - and maybe his dad too - fondly. The exhaustion from your day was slowly starting to get to you.

“You know, for how much of a devil Bam usually is, he’s actually being such a good boy right now.”

Jungkook made a noise of mock offense. “Wow. So he’s a good boy, but I’m the annoying one?”

“You literally tried to commit a felony like ten minutes ago.”

He scoffed, tilting his head as if considering. “Felony is a strong word.”

“You were going to break a man’s jaw.”

Jungkook shrugged. “Okay, misdemeanor, then.”

You reached over to smack his arm lightly, and he chuckled, rubbing the spot dramatically as if you’d actually hurt him. The moment stretched between you, laughter fading once again into something quieter, something warmer. You didn’t know why your heart suddenly felt heavier in your chest, why the way Jungkook was looking at you made your stomach twist in a way that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with something you couldn’t name.

Jungkook cleared his throat, shifting slightly. “Anyway, don’t worry about the setup. I promise, he’s a great guy.”

You nodded, but the uneasy feeling in your stomach didn’t fade. There was something about this whole thing that felt…off. You just couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Alright,” you said, shaking off the feeling. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I get to pick your next date.”

Jungkook’s smirk faltered for just a second before he recovered. “Yeah, sure. We’ll see.”

You raised an eyebrow at his sudden hesitance but let it slide. For now.

Something told you this was going to be interesting.

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just-a-cinnamon-bun · 2 years ago

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I just got a new job and I’m relieved by how much I like it so far.

#positive post :D #positive personal post #I quit my last job after a big ole situation with the new manager #namely within her first week I couldn’t handle her attitude and lack of doing work #so I wrote a very long detailed message to her on all the ways she’s messed up and needs to improve #then I got suspended for a week (understandable no shade to hr for that one; only shade to the manager for being too cowardly to face me!)#then I considered coming back but the owner somehow thought a solution to this problem was ask if I wanted to work at a different location #because ‘obviously you need the money’#D:<#MAAM #I got my second to last check and quit that same day #the final day of my suspension #but within that time I’d applied to and interviewed at 2 places already #and by the time I grabbed my actual last check I’d gotten the job AND one with a pay increase #(and also better benefits and healthier work culture)#I’ve also only worked a total of 4 legit shifts plus the orientation shift #and it’s honestly telling that that’s all it took for me to fall in love #they’ve also been shortened training shifts to get me settled #and divided between 2 actual jobs: line cook and to-go #which we’ve all agreed I can do both as long as I’m comfortable #and I am!#everyone is so nice!#anyway #long story short #I’m really happy that my new job seems to be working out :)#and on top of that my boyfriend is also getting a newer better job #that way we both can have left the same toxic workplace #so yaaaaaaay

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enhaflixer · 3 months ago

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bf!Jake and That Goddamn Tongue - FLUFF SMUT CRACK

Jake Sim is the problem. Jake Sim is also the solution. And when he’s between your thighs, tongue flat, moaning like he belongs there? Suddenly, you have no complaints. And you know what’s worse? Neither does he.

The Tongue Is Always Out.

Jake Sim does not keep his tongue in his mouth. He simply refuses.

It’s like his default reaction to life. He’ll be sitting there, scrolling his phone, fully unaware that his tongue is just… out. Flat. Resting against his bottom lip. For no reason.

You watch him, utterly baffled, before finally sighing, “Do you need water?”

Jake blinks. “Huh?”

“You look dehydrated,” you point out. “Your tongue is just—out. Like an idiot puppy.”

He glances down as if he forgot it was even there, then shrugs. “Oh.”

“Put it back.”

Jake grins instead, sticking it out even further, slow and teasing. “Make me.”

He just leaves it there. Not just for a second—no, fully just exists like that.

You glare. He raises an eyebrow. You squint. He tilts his head. Tongue still out.

“Jake.”

“Hm?” he hums, tongue still obnoxiously flat against his lip.

You exhale. Hard. “Do you think that’s normal?”

Jake just smiles wider, tongue still visible. It’s smug. He’s smug. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

It works.

Every. Single. Time.

The Kisses Are Either Disgustingly Wet or Disgustingly Perfect.

Jake does not kiss you normally. Ever.

He'll grab your face with both hands, thumbs pressing into your cheeks, nose brushing yours—like he’s about to whisper something sweet— And then he sticks his tongue out.

Flat. Slow. Holding it out for you like a challenge.

"You ready for your kiss?"

You narrow your eyes. "If you kiss me like a normal person, yes."

He smirks. "Define normal."

"JAKE."

And then he dives in.

Sloppy. Messy. Way too much tongue.

He moans loudly into your mouth, just to be annoying. Tilts his head, deepens the kiss, licks into you like he’s savoring a meal.

He’s so aggressive with it. He sucks on your bottom lip, licks over your teeth, bites just to hear you whimper.

You try to pull away for air. He chases your mouth.

When you finally shove him back, panting, he looks so fucking smug.

You’re breathless. Dizzy. Lightheaded.

“Jake,” you gasp, wiping your mouth.

He just licks his lips and says, “Bet you wanna do it again.”

He’s right.

The Teenage Horny Boy Innuendos.

Jake talks with his tongue. He doesn’t even realize it.

Every time he makes a dirty joke, his tongue moves. Flicks against his teeth. Runs over his lips. Sticks out slightly, flat, teasing.

Like it’s his instinct.

Like he can’t talk about sex without getting his mouth involved.

"You wanna ride?" he asks, spinning his car keys around his finger. He tilts his head, grinning, biting his tongue between his teeth.

"You mean in the car, right?" you deadpan.

Jake just smirks and slowly drags his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Sure."

OH MY GOD.

Or when he watches you eat something messy—an ice cream cone, a lollipop, a spoonful of whipped cream— He just stares. Licking his lips, mouth slightly open, tongue flicking out absently.

When you catch him? He just winks and says, "Thinking about dessert."

Fucking menace.

The Oral Fixation

Jake is obsessed with tasting you.

Not just sexually—all the time.

He nuzzles into your neck, licks a stripe up the side just to hear you yelp. He kisses your bare shoulder, then bites it gently, soothing it with his tongue. He runs his lips over your wrist, presses an open-mouthed kiss, sucks lightly, then does it again just to see your face scrunch up.

If you’re ever laying in bed together, you’re not even surprised when you feel his mouth on your knee. Or your collarbone. Or the swell of your chest.

It’s constant. His lips are always somewhere. He says it’s comforting. You say it’s excessive. He grins and mumbles against your skin, "Then stop tasting so fucking good."

When he’s not kissing you, he’s chewing on something—his lip, his straw, his fingers.

"Jake, do you need a chew toy?" He just grins, sticking his tongue out. "Got one already."

He means you.

He’ll lap at your skin until it’s warm and damp. Leave little love bites that he traces with his tongue like he’s sealing the mark in place. And if you so much as twitch?

“Sensitive today, huh? Maybe I should keep licking till you get used to it.”

But When It’s Between Your Legs?

Jake is filthy with it.

He eats pussy like it’s his favorite meal, his full-time job, his Olympic sport.

His mouth is messy. Spit everywhere. Tongue working in slow, obscene drags from your entrance to your clit. He makes the most disgusting slurping sounds on purpose.

He’ll spread you open with both hands, stare for a second, then moan, “Fucking perfect.”

He dives in.

Groaning, licking, sucking your clit into his mouth until your legs shake.

He flattens his tongue against you and shakes his head like a dog in heat. He tongues your hole with long, filthy strokes until you’re crying. He keeps two fingers pumping in and curling hard, hitting that spot so perfectly it makes you choke.

He pulls back just to catch his breath, spit glistening on his lips. “You’re soaking me. What do you want me to do about it?”

You whimper. He smiles.

“Better clean you up again, huh?”

He goes back to work. Doesn’t stop until you cum once. Then twice. Then again because he says your thighs still haven’t stopped shaking.

When he finally climbs up your body, his chin is dripping.

He kisses you—slow, messy, filthy��tongue in your mouth like a promise. “Told you. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 1 year ago

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50 Character Personality Traits + Meanings (For writers, worldbuilders, and artists) Part 1

Adventurous - Enjoys trying new experiences and exploring the unknown.

Ambitious - Driven to succeed and achieve their goals.

Analytical - Tends to think critically and examine things in-depth.

Artistic - Highly creative and expresses themselves through artistic mediums.

Assertive - Confident in expressing their thoughts and feelings.

Caring - Shows compassion and concern for the well-being of others.

Charismatic - Has a natural charm and appeal that draws people in.

Clever - Able to come up with creative solutions and make astute observations.

Compassionate - Displays empathy and a desire to help those in need.

Confident - Believes in their own abilities and is self-assured.

Conscientious - Reliable, responsible, and attentive to detail.

Curious - Eager to learn new things and explore the world around them.

Cynical - Tends to be skeptical and distrustful of others' motives.

Dependable - Can be counted on to follow through on their commitments.

Determined - Persistent in pursuing their goals and overcoming challenges.

Diplomatic - Skilled at navigating social situations and resolving conflicts.

Eccentric - Displays unconventional or unusual behaviors and interests.

Empathetic - Able to understand and share the feelings of others.

Ethical - Guided by a strong moral compass and a sense of right and wrong.

Extraverted - Enjoys being around people and draws energy from social interactions.

Flexible - Adaptable to changes and open to trying new approaches.

Forgiving - Willing to let go of past hurts and give people second chances.

Friendly - Approachable and enjoys building positive relationships with others.

Grounded - Practical, down-to-earth, and focused on the present.

Hardworking - Diligent and dedicated in their efforts to achieve their goals.

Honest - Values truthfulness and integrity in their words and actions.

Idealistic - Driven by a vision of how the world should be and a desire to make a difference.

Imaginative - Possesses a rich inner world and creative problem-solving abilities.

Independent - Prefers to think and act for themselves without relying on others.

Indecisive - Struggles with making decisions and often second-guesses themselves.

Introverted - Finds energy and fulfillment in solitary activities and introspection.

Jealous - Experiences feelings of resentment or insecurity towards others.

Kind - Gentle, considerate, and thoughtful in their treatment of others.

Leaders - Able to inspire and guide others towards a common goal.

Logical - Approaches problems and decisions through a rational, analytical lens.

Materialistic - Highly values the acquisition of possessions and wealth.

Organized - Maintains order and efficiency in their personal and professional life.

Perfectionistic - Strives for flawlessness and can be overly critical of themselves and others.

Pessimistic - Tends to focus on the negative aspects of situations and expect the worst.

Resilient - Able to bounce back from setbacks and adapt to changes.

Risk-taker - Willing to take chances and step outside of their comfort zone.

Sarcastic - Uses irony and witty remarks to convey their thoughts and feelings.

Sensitive - Deeply affected by the emotions and experiences of themselves and others.

Stubborn - Unwilling to change their mind or compromise on their beliefs and opinions.

Suspicious - Inclined to doubt the motives and intentions of others.

Thoughtful - Considerate of the impact their words and actions have on others.

Timid - Shy, reserved, and hesitant to take risks or assert themselves.

Trustworthy - Reliable, honest, and worthy of confidence.

Unpredictable - Displays an element of surprise and spontaneity in their behavior.

Witty - Possesses a quick, clever, and humorous way of expressing themselves.

Hey fellow writers! I'm super excited to share that I've just launched a Tumblr community. I'm inviting all of you to join my community. All you have to do is fill out this Google form, and I'll personally send you an invitation to join the Write Right Society on Tumblr! Can't wait to see your posts!

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solxamber · 5 months ago

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Hiii!! first time requesting and I absolutely love your white rabbit and angel one, but what about a jellyfish mc with the octavinelle trio and diasomnia group? Where their head empty an airhead but is actually really smart but gets distracted easily.

Octavinelle + Diasomnia with Airhead! Jellyfish! Reader

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was prepared for almost anything—except you. At first, your airheaded nature confounded him. You’d stare blankly into space during conversations, occasionally blurting out unrelated thoughts like, “Do you think stars get lonely?” or “What’s the difference between squid ink and octopus ink?”

To Azul, you seemed like an easy mark. Someone too scattered to notice loopholes in contracts or the fine print. But the first time he tried to rope you into a deal, you stared at the contract for an uncomfortably long time, then pointed out five contradictory clauses and suggested a more efficient way to write it.

Azul had never been so humiliated yet so intrigued. How could someone so spacey also be so sharp? He began inviting you to the Mostro Lounge under the guise of needing “assistance,” but it was just an excuse to pick your brain.

He’d grumble when you got distracted mid-conversation to follow a particularly shiny object, but he found himself watching you with a mix of exasperation and fondness. Your unconventional intelligence challenged him, and your whimsical nature softened the edges of his ambition.

Jade Leech

Jade found your airheadedness endlessly entertaining. At first, he mistook it for naivety, but when you casually corrected one of his mushroom classifications while admiring a random shell, he realized there was much more to you.

You fascinated him. The way your attention flitted from one thing to another like a butterfly, yet you still managed to come up with solutions to problems no one else could. Jade often tested your intelligence by subtly steering conversations into complex topics, only for you to surprise him with insightful answers delivered in the most absentminded tone.

“Jade, did you know the anglerfish has a symbiotic relationship with bacteria for its light?” you’d say, staring off into the distance. And just like that, Jade’s carefully laid plan to throw you off would unravel.

He enjoyed the unpredictability you brought into his life. Your head-empty demeanor paired with startling intelligence kept him on his toes, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Floyd Leech

“Oh, Shrimpy’s got no brain cells, huh?” That was Floyd’s first impression of you, and for a while, he treated you like his personal amusement. He’d throw random questions your way just to see what absurd answer you’d come up with.

But the day you absentmindedly explained the physics behind the Mostro Lounge’s faulty pipe system and how to fix it? Floyd was floored. His mouth hung open for a good five seconds before he burst out laughing. “You’re a sneaky little jellyfish, aren’t ya?”

From then on, Floyd decided you were his favorite. He’d sling an arm around your shoulders and drag you around, showing you off like his prize catch. “Shrimpy’s dumb-smart,” he’d declare to anyone who’d listen, grinning ear to ear.

He loved how unpredictable you were, never knowing if you’d say something brilliant or completely off-the-wall. Floyd thrived on chaos, and you were the perfect mix of calm airhead and hidden genius to keep him entertained. He might tease you endlessly, but deep down, he adored you for being unapologetically yourself.

Malleus Draconia

When Malleus first met you, he found your airheaded nature oddly calming. Unlike others, you didn’t seem intimidated by his presence. Instead, you’d blink at him in wide-eyed wonder before blurting out random thoughts like, “If dragons hoard treasure, do they also have snack stashes?”

At first, Malleus assumed your absentmindedness was due to a lack of understanding. But during one of your meandering conversations, you casually corrected his misconceptions about a historical event—one even he hadn't noticed. He realized you weren’t just carefree; you were deeply knowledgeable in your own peculiar way.

Your ability to switch between whimsical musings and sharp observations fascinated him. He found himself seeking you out for your unique perspective, even if you occasionally got distracted by a passing butterfly mid-discussion.

“Child of Man, you are quite… unique,” he’d say with a soft smile, finding solace in your unorthodox approach to life.

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia thought you were adorable. Your head-empty demeanor reminded him of the carefree youths he’d seen in his centuries of life. He’d often pop out of nowhere to startle you, laughing when you gasped and then immediately got distracted by a question like, “Why is it called a jump scare if I didn’t jump?”

But it didn’t take long for Lilia to notice the flashes of brilliance hidden behind your seemingly aimless chatter. You’d drop profound insights into conversations as if they were afterthoughts, leaving him pleasantly surprised.

“Oh-ho! You’re sharper than you let on, aren’t you?” he’d tease, ruffling your hair affectionately.

He loved how unpredictable you were, and he often encouraged your tangents just to see where your mind would wander. To Lilia, you were a delightful enigma—one that made his long life all the more entertaining.

Silver

Silver appreciates your calm presence, even if he sometimes struggled to keep up with your wandering thoughts. He’d sit quietly as you mused about the stars or wondered if birds dream, finding your voice soothing no matter how odd the topic.

He initially thought you were simply a kind but scatterbrained individual. However, when you offhandedly helped him improve his sword stance with an unexpectedly insightful comment, he realized there was more to you than met the eye.

“You notice things most people overlook,” he said, his tone soft with admiration. From then on, he started paying closer attention to your words, knowing they often carried hidden wisdom.

Silver respected your unique way of thinking and found comfort in your presence, even when you got distracted mid-sentence. To him, you were a gentle yet brilliant soul, someone who brought unexpected light into his life.

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek was baffled by you. At first, he couldn’t fathom how someone so easily distracted could survive at Night Raven College, much less so many Overblots. He’d often lecture you, only for you to nod absentmindedly and then ask something completely unrelated, like, “Do crocodiles ever get lonely?”

It drove him up the wall. He thought you lacked focus, which was unacceptable to him. But then, during a heated argument about magical theory, you calmly pointed out a flaw in his reasoning that left him speechless.

Sebek stared at you, wide-eyed, before clearing his throat and crossing his arms. “Hmph! I see you’re not as oblivious as you appear,” he muttered, trying to mask his begrudging respect.

Despite his initial frustrations, Sebek grew to admire your hidden intelligence. He’d still scold you for your airheaded tendencies, but deep down, he appreciated your unique perspective and the unexpected wisdom you brought to the table.

Masterlist

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steddieme · 6 months ago

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i love eddie turning into an asshole when he's gay panicking

like he tries so hard to hide his crush on steve he acts like a total dickhead. and steve knows eddie has a crush on him because his years of dating experience don't fail him, so he's very confused and can't decide if eddie is in denial or ashamed of his feelings for him, but he's a little sad either way. eddie just thinks steve is straight and is embarrassed he has a crush in general and doesn't know how to act lmao

like someone will ask something about steve and he'll answer in a milisecond and then look disgusted and make fun of whatever steve fact he just blurted out

jonathan: what's steve's favorite color?

eddie in 0.1 seconds: yellow

eddie immediately after for no reason: which is such an ugly color. who even likes yellow ugh

meanwhile he's yelling at himself in his head to shut the fuck up because he loves when steve wears yellow

robin, who didn't try to answer to see what eddie does: *amused and offended at the same time*

steve just stands in the background all confused and a little sad, because he's pretty sure eddie gives him heart-eyes every time he wears his yellow sweater. so what the fuck is he on about...

or when anyone in any way implies he likes steve he'll turn into his biggest hater

robin: you're so gone for him, man

eddie: what are you talking about? i fucking hate steve, god, he's so annoying

robin: ... i didn't even say steve's name, how did you know i was talking about him

eddie:

eddie: well, i just wanted you to know i hate him, which is unrelated to this imaginary guy you're talking about...

steve is in the break room eavesdropping going what the fuck, because they literally fell asleep cuddling last night

it all comes to a head when they all go out to watch eddie perform at the hideout with corroded coffin. steve wears his hottest outfit, eddie can't stop staring at him through the whole show. afterwards when they congratulate him, eddie turns to steve and tells him he looks awful. and steve just has enough and grabs eddie by the wrist and drags him out of the bar, into an alley.

steve: okay, what the fuck is your problem?

eddie, scared and turned on: huh?

steve: you keep insulting me and it's starting to really get on my nerves, so tell me what the fuck is going on

eddie:

eddie: look

steve: yeah?

eddie: ugh, whatever, okay, i have like the most embarrassing, ginormous crush on you, okay?

steve: yeah, i know that. so why are you being an asshole?

eddie: you know that?? what the fuck, how??

steve: eddie, you're like the least subtle person i know

eddie: fair... i don't know i just panicked because i didn't want you to know

steve: and your solution was to be a dick?

eddie: when you put it that way, it does sound bad

steve: you're a fucking idiot, i can't believe i like you

eddie: you like me???

steve: a fucking idiot, i swear!!!

then they make out and live happily after

not before robin kicks eddie's ass a little, though

#eddies is unhinged #steddie #stobin #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #fic #ficlet #incorrect quotes #mine

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shitpostingsapphic · 7 months ago

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Why I don't feel disappointed by Vi's arc, but you might

I usually have pretty strong and polarizing opinions when it comes to my takes on Arcane, but this is one where I wanna open up the discussion a bit more and invite people to my perspective, and it's fine if you don't see it this way.

I think there are two primary reasons why people feel disappointed by the arc of s2 Vi. The first, being that Vi had stronger voiced concerns about the state of Zaun in the first season. The second, being that she spent the whole show wanting to be with her sister and she didn't end up getting that.

Why I actually feel fulfilled in Vi's arc has to do with these two points, and I invite you to sit with what I have to say next.

Both of these parts of Vi have to do with her fatal flaw: her neglect of self.

We know two things based on what the creators have said about the show: the theme of Arcane is the cycle of violence, and the entire show was written together, instead of season 2 being written after season 1 production. From this, I can then ask: what do the creators want to tell their audience about this message, knowing they wrote it all out together, knowing the events of season 2 were very purposeful, using Vi as a conduit for that message?

If violence is a cycle, can one person defy it? No, of course not. At the start of Vi's arc, she wants to be a person that breaks it, though. She wants to change things in Zaun, wants a better life for her sister. As season 1 continues on, she wants to pick up where she left off with Powder without truly processing the gravity of the years between them. She thinks she can hold the world on her shoulders and fix any problem that comes her way. She thinks she can use her fists to make progress, thinks she can physically reach out and create change, but it only contributes to the cycle. And that's not because she's morally in the wrong when she does so, but she doesn't grasp yet that her fists can't fix everything. Vander tries to tell her as such in act 1, and it's a lesson that goes beyond just the literal application.

Vi's tendency to try and fix everything around her leads to her neglect of self. Inevitably, when you try to change things you have no control over, it leaves wounds. It leaves a person feeling like something is deeply wrong with them. And we watch Vi go down this spiral. I actually find myself really brokenhearted watching Vi in the first 2 acts, because I think she represents a lot of us: we see pain and devastation around us, but we don't know what the right thing to do is. We try different tactics and try to fix things and are left wondering why things feel worse than how they started.

I think that's something a lot of viewers could benefit to reflect on: I think in watching a show with strong political messaging, we yearn for a message that tells us the answers to these big problems. Truthfully, most of us don't have a fucking clue what we're doing. We want change but don't know how to see it through. That includes the writers. This isn't a show about the solution to political strife. It's about the cycle of violence. It's about not knowing how to change something that's been continuous throughout history in some form.

If we put ourselves in Vi's shoes, it would eventually take a toll on us to try and change something that isn't within our ability to change. Vi can't fix the problems in Zaun. Vi can't change the way time and distance and pain has warped her sister into someone else. In season 2 act 1, she's still trying to take responsibility for things that are outside of her control. She blames herself for the way Jinx has changed and has to tell herself that the only way to fix it is to end the cycle with her own fists. She teams up with Caitlyn because she's convinced herself it's the only way she can help. She sees how violence has devastated not only Zaun but innocents in Piltover as well, and she feels responsible for it.

BUT SHE IS NOT AT FAULT. And she cannot fix it any more than she could have created it.

Perhaps people may feel Vi's arc is lacking because they wanted to see more of her involvement in the revolution of Zaun. They wanted to see her be able to change the situation with her sister and for them to live happily together. But because of the circumstances surrounding both, for Vi to do so, she would inevitably lean into her fatal flaw. She cannot do either of those things without neglecting herself. That's not who she is.

The whole point of a character arc is for someone to be a changed person from beginning to end. If Vi starts out as someone passionate about enacting change to the point of self-destruction, what would a resolution for a character like that look like?

Vi needs to choose herself. Vi needs to release herself of the responsibility of changing the world. She can't do it. There are ways to contribute to positive change that don't involve putting the world on your shoulders, and Vi has yet to put herself first in any situation. Vi choosing love is how she does it.

Amanda Overton, one of the main writers that contributed to Vi's character and the Caitlyn and Vi dynamic and relationship, said about Vi: "If she has no one left to protect, she would fall in love". If Vi finally lets go of this crutch of hers to protect, to fight, to take responsibility for things that aren't her burden to bear, she would fall in love. She would finally be able to choose something for herself.

This is why I find her arc fulfilling. I feel like it's not an arc we really see a lot. It's not every day we have a character that starts out like the classic anime slash marvel protagonist, and instead of being the person that saves the world, they accept they're not a superhero and it's okay to choose love and personal happiness.

If it applies, and you're reading this, I want you to ask yourself: are you perhaps disappointed with her arc because you expected her to be the superhero? And would you be okay with accepting that she isn't and doesn't need to be? That it would be better for her to choose herself?

#arcane analysis #arcane discussion #arcane discourse #arcane #vi ar #vi arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x vi #caitvi #violyn #arcane league of legends #arcane lol #arcane league of lesbians

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cruel-seduction · 7 months ago

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Mattheo Riddle Headcanon

Warning: This piece contains themes of possessiveness, obsessive behavior, and dark romance undertones. Mattheo's love might be overwhelming, intense, and not suited for everyone’s taste. Reader discretion is advised.

(+ Requests are open so if you wanna request something, go ahead)

Mattheo Riddle

౨ৎ 6’2 | He’s not as tall as Theo, but you wouldn’t dare mention that unless you want to end up against a wall (and not in the fun way—well, not just the fun way). He’s tall enough to tower over you, and honestly, that’s all he needs.

౨ৎ Built to fight | Mattheo doesn’t have the lean elegance of Theo or Draco. He’s solid—broad shoulders, strong arms, and that delicious combination of athletic and dangerous. (He’s fought more boys in Hogwarts hallways than you’ve taken exams, and every single one of them regretted it.)

౨ৎ Hands? MADE FOR SIN. Big, veiny, and calloused from Quidditch and street fights. He’s got a grip that can pin you down or pull you close—whatever mood he’s in. (He could choke you mid-argument, and you’d thank him afterward. RESPECTFULLY.)

౨ৎ He doesn’t work out for fun—he works out to survive. Fistfights, dodging hexes, getting thrown into detention every week; it’s all part of the “Mattheo Maintenance Plan.” (He calls it cardio; we call it hot as hell.)

౨ৎ Face? Pure trouble. Mattheo’s got that sharp jawline and cheekbones that could cut glass. Dark, stormy eyes that smolder like embers, framed by lashes so long they should be illegal. He’s always got a cut or bruise somewhere on his face—his version of an accessory. (You just want to kiss it better, don’t lie.)

౨ৎ Hair? CHAOTIC. Dark and curly, it looks like he ran his hands through it during a fight and then just left it that way. It’s thick and soft, and you know it’d feel like heaven wrapped around your fingers. (Or gripping your thighs while he devour —anyway.)

౨ৎ That smirk. It’s a weapon. Crooked, cocky, and knowing, it has the power to make you forget how to breathe. He knows exactly what he’s doing when he throws it your way. (And you hate yourself for falling for it every single time. But not enough to stop looking.)

౨ৎ He doesn’t just walk; he prowls. There’s a predatory grace to the way Mattheo moves, like he’s always two seconds away from either a fight or dragging you into a dark corner. (You wouldn’t mind the later one, do you?)

౨ৎ Voice? A slow burn. Low, raspy, and smooth, like he’s smoked one too many cigarettes but still has you hanging on every word. When he whispers, it’s game over. (He calls you “trouble” in that tone, and suddenly you’re ready to commit a crime.)

౨ৎ Anger Management Issues | Mattheo doesn’t yell—he doesn’t have to. His rage is cold, quiet, and calculated, which somehow makes it ten times scarier. He’ll get even, and he’ll do it in a way that leaves scars. (Emotionally and physically.)

౨ৎ Fight first, ask questions never. Mattheo’s solution to any problem is his fists. Someone looked at him wrong? Fight. Someone disrespected Theo or Draco? Fight. Someone dared to breathe near you? FIGHT. (And he’ll win, obviously. Look at him.)

౨ৎ Slytherin Prince energy. He doesn’t care for titles, but people gravitate to him anyway. He’s magnetic, exuding a dangerous charisma that makes you want to follow him—even if it means walking straight into hell.

౨ৎ Soft spots? Hidden under lock and key. Mattheo doesn’t open up easily, but when he does, it’s devastating. A rare, crooked smile or a quiet laugh, and suddenly your whole world tilts. (We LOVE a secretly soft bad boy.)

Would you let Mattheo Riddle ruin your life? Absolutely. Would you thank him afterward? Also yes. (No notes. Just him.)

Mattheo Riddle | Personality

౨ৎ He’s loud but in that dangerously calm way when it matters most. Mattheo knows exactly how to push buttons, whether it’s with a smirk, a biting remark, or just the way he looks at you like he knows all your secrets. (Spoiler: he probably does.)

౨ৎ The type of person who thrives in chaos. He’s not a troublemaker by default; he just is trouble. People either avoid him completely or flock to him like moths to a flame—usually the latter. (WE LOVE A MAN WHO IS THE RED FLAG AND THE WHOLE DAMN CARNIVAL!)

౨ৎ Reputation? Notorious. Everyone knows Mattheo Riddle. Maybe it’s because he’s always at the center of some scandal, or maybe it’s just because you can’t not notice him.

౨ৎ Manipulative, but make it hot. He doesn’t need to raise his voice or even argue much. Mattheo knows how to twist words and situations until you’re the one apologizing to him. (And then he has the audacity to smirk about it.)

౨ৎ Fights aren’t something he picks—they’re something that find him. But once he’s in one? All bets are off. "You wanted this. Don’t start crying now."

౨ৎ Unlike Theo’s quiet menace, Mattheo fights loud. He taunts his opponent with sharp quips and cruel laughter, the kind of guy who’ll land a punch and then casually fix his hair like it was nothing.

౨ৎ Obsessive tendencies galore. When Mattheo decides something—or someone—is his, it’s game over. He doesn’t just like you; he fixates. (Good luck trying to shake him off because you’re not going anywhere.)

౨ৎ Affection? Worship disguised as possessiveness. He’s the type to follow you around like a shadow, making sure everyone knows you’re off-limits. His jealousy? Immediate and obvious. "If you wanted to make me mad, congratulations, princess. Now, what are you going to do about it?"

౨ৎ He’s a natural flirt, but it’s not rehearsed. Everything about Mattheo is raw, instinctive, and dripping with confidence. (The man could make tying his shoes look like foreplay. It’s unfair.)

౨ৎ Smirks more than he smiles, and every single one is lethal. It’s the kind of smirk that makes you rethink your life choices. (Like why you aren’t currently pinned against a wall by him.)

౨ৎ His anger is a wildfire—hot, destructive, and consuming. But what’s scarier is the moments right before he snaps, when his voice lowers and his eyes darken. That’s when you really start praying.

౨ৎ Chaotic protector energy. Mattheo doesn’t have many people he’d go to the ends of the earth for, but if you’re one of them? He’ll burn the world down to keep you safe. (And he’d make it look sexy while doing it.)

He’s not just passionate; he’s intense. Whether it’s fights, emotions, or sex, Mattheo doesn’t do anything halfway. He’s all-in, all the time. (Exhausting? Yes. Worth it? Also yes.)

Would you let Mattheo Riddle ruin your day, your life, and your sanity? Absolutely. Would you regret it? Never.

౨ৎ Layers of chaos. On the surface, Mattheo looks like he’s got everything under control—swagger, confidence, and a devil-may-care attitude. But under all that? Oh, he’s a mess. Overthinks everything, but you’d never know it because he masks it with a cocky grin and impulsive decisions. (SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A THERAPIST, BUT ALSO LET HIM KEEP THE TOXIC EDGE. WE LOVE IT.)

౨ৎ Moody as hell, but in the hot way. You’ll know when he’s upset because he gets too quiet, that jawline clenching just so. He won’t lash out; instead, he’ll brood in the corner until someone’s brave enough to poke the bear. "Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? *Smirk.* " (Sir, that smirk says you’re about to burn the whole castle down.)

౨ৎ Impulsive to the core. Plans? Never heard of them. Mattheo acts on instinct—whether it’s throwing a punch or dragging you into an empty corridor because he needs you right now. It’s a miracle he hasn’t landed himself in Azkaban.

౨ৎ Organized chaos. His notes are scribbled, his robes are half-untucked, and yet he’s always prepared. Somehow. He doesn’t stress about the details; he just wings it. (And annoyingly, it works out every time.)

౨ৎ Languages? Oh, he knows a few. His Italian is rough but so hot, especially when he’s muttering something under his breath that you can’t quite catch. And Merlin help you when he growls something in Parseltongue. (THE THINGS WE’D LET HIM DO IN THAT LANGUAGE.)

౨ৎ Smart but reckless. Mattheo doesn’t study much, but he’s one of those annoyingly brilliant types who can pick up a spell by watching someone else do it once. He’d ace every class if he cared enough to put in the effort.

౨ৎ Social butterfly with teeth. He thrives in social situations—not because he’s polite, but because he’s got the charisma of a goddamn snake. Everyone either loves him, hates him, or fears him. Sometimes all three at once. "Hey, sweetheart. Didn’t think I’d catch you looking, but here we are." (Boy, nobody was looking. But now we are.)

౨ৎ Driest sense of humor. Mattheo’s sarcasm is so sharp it could cut glass. Half the time, people not sure if he’s joking or insulting them.

౨ৎ But according to him you look good in everything. Wearing a garbage bad? "Oh baby, You look like goddess"

౨ৎ Drinks tea like an old man. (Yeah, you thought he’d be a whiskey guy, didn’t you? Nope. Earl Grey, no sugar, no milk. Deal with it.)

౨ৎ Parties are his stage. Mattheo doesn’t just attend parties—he owns them. Whether he’s in the center of a fight or the middle of the dance floor, he’s the one everyone’s watching. And if he’s not? He’ll make sure he is. "Draco’s drunk, Theo’s being boring, and you’re coming with me. Now."

౨ৎ Protector vibes, but make it chaotic. Mattheo will fight anyone, anywhere, at any time if they so much as look at his friends the wrong way. But he’s not the silent type—oh no, he’s the guy yelling insults mid-fight and making sure the whole room knows why this person deserved it.

౨ৎ Would you trust Mattheo Riddle to make a single responsible decision in his life? No. Would you follow him into the chaos anyway? Absolutely.

Mattheo Riddle | Boyfriend

Oh, dating Mattheo Riddle is like dating a thunderstorm: chaotic, intense, and utterly mesmerizing. He’s a mix of reckless devotion, gentlemanly gestures, and just the right amount of toxic edge to keep things interesting.

౨ৎ The Fighter You Can’t Stay Mad At:

Let’s get this out of the way: Mattheo is always getting into fights. Whether it’s over you, his friends, or just because someone looked at him wrong, his knuckles are perpetually bruised.

You’ve become an expert at patching him up, and even though he winces when you clean his wounds, he sits still because you’re the one touching him.

But the second you start crying while bandaging him up? Oh, his heart shatters. He’d rather die in the ring than see tears in your eyes. "Baby, please don’t cry. It’s just a scratch—I’m fine, I promise." (Spoiler: It’s not just a scratch, but he’ll never admit it because he can’t stand upsetting you.)

౨ৎ The Open Book:

Mattheo tells you everything. Even the dumb stuff that doesn’t matter.

He’ll burst into your room with stories about the dumb prank Theo pulled or the argument he had with Draco over which Quidditch team is better.

It’s not just oversharing—it’s that he wants you to be part of every aspect of his life. You’re his person, and he doesn’t hold back. "Guess what? Draco tripped on his robe this morning, We saw his penis, and Theo nearly died laughing. You should’ve been there—it was glorious."

౨ৎ Your Number One Listener:

If you’re a talker, Mattheo listens like your words are the most important thing in the world. He’ll nod, ask questions, and remember everything.

You’ll mention something in passing—like wanting to try a new dessert—and two weeks later, he’ll surprise you with it.

And if someone interrupts you while you’re talking? Oh, they’re about to meet a very pissed-off Mattheo. "She wasn’t finished speaking. Shut up and wait your turn."

౨ৎ Gentleman With a Hint of Chaos:

Despite his bad-boy demeanor, Mattheo has a surprisingly soft, thoughtful side.

He carries pads or tampons for you, keeps a hair tie around his wrist just in case, and always has a water bottle on hand because you forget to stay hydrated.

He’ll open doors, walk on the side closest to the street, and make sure you’re warm when it’s cold. (But let’s be honest, he’ll also yank you into a broom closet mid-conversation because he needs to feel you right now.)

౨ৎ Hopelessly Devoted (But Low-Key Toxic):

Mattheo worships the ground you walk on, but don’t mistake that for him being easygoing. Oh no. His loyalty comes with a dark, possessive streak.

He’s not the type to tell you who you can or can’t talk to, but rest assured, anyone who crosses a line with you will regret it.

You can do anything, like literally anything. You can kill a guy and all Mattheo would do is kiss your forehead and hide the body. According to him you are never wrong. You can slap him, punch him, or worse kill him he would still justify it saying there must be a reason behind this.

He’s subtle but scary when it comes to protecting you. A cutting glare, a whispered threat, or just his mere presence is usually enough to keep people in line.

౨ৎ How He Fell in Love:

Mattheo thought he was immune to love. Sure, he flirted and hooked up, but real feelings? Nah, not for him.

Until you came along.

It hit him during one of his usual brawls. He glanced at the crowd, and there you were, looking so worried. And suddenly, getting punched didn’t matter—making sure you never had to worry about him like that again did.

Afterward, he was awkward as hell trying to tell you how he felt. He didn’t have Theo’s calculated charm or Draco’s smoothness. Instead, he just blurted it out one day while you were laughing at some dumb joke he made. "I love you. Like, I think I’d die if you ever left me, so… yeah."

Your stunned silence nearly killed him, but then you kissed him, and he knew he’d never want anyone else.

౨ৎ Ride or Die Energy:

Mattheo isn’t just your boyfriend; he’s your partner in crime.

Whether it’s sneaking into the Restricted Section, hexing someone who pissed you off, or just holding your hand while you rant, he’s always got your back.

He might be reckless, dramatic, and a little toxic, but he’s also fiercely loyal, endlessly devoted, and absolutely crazy about you.

Dating Mattheo Riddle? Exhausting. Chaotic. Perfect.

Mattheo Riddle | Affection

Mattheo Riddle isn't the type to pour out his feelings in grand speeches or dramatic gestures—no, he's far too intense and possessive for that. But when it comes to affection? He’s got a way of showing it that’ll make you never doubt how much you mean to him.

౨ৎ The Quiet, Intense Affection:

Mattheo is a man of action, not words. He won’t always tell you he loves you, but his touch? Oh, it says everything.

His hand on your waist when you walk through crowded hallways. The way his fingers graze your back when you’re standing too close to someone.

In public, he’s cool and calm. But when it’s just the two of you? He’s all about that quiet intensity that makes your heart race.

If someone tries to flirt with you? He’ll just stand there, leaning against a wall with a smirk, eyes dark and unreadable, watching. He doesn’t need to say a word; everyone knows you’re his.

౨ৎ Praise Kink, Because Why Not?

Mattheo lives for praising you, but not in some sugary, over-the-top way. No, his words are quiet, almost off-handed—but they hit like a freight train.

"I don't know how you make doing nothing look so fucking sexy."

“You’re brilliant. You’ve got this whole school eating out of the palm of your hand, and I love it.”

He’ll say things that seem like offhand compliments but are actually his way of making it clear you’re the most important thing in his life. You’ll think about it later, and that’s when it hits: he means it.

౨ৎ Acts of Service—Mattheo Style:

Mattheo won’t jump up and start fussing over you the second you’re upset. He’ll do it in his own way—quietly, but with a look that says he’ll take care of you.

He won’t tell you when he’s bought your favorite candy or snuck into the library to grab the book you mentioned once.

"You said you were feeling stressed, so I already cleared your schedule for the week," he’ll say, as though it’s no big deal. (It’s a huge deal, but he’ll never admit it.)

If you’re tired and need a break, you can bet Mattheo will be the one to drag you out of the common room for a walk, simply so you can breathe without all the chaos.

౨ৎ Possessiveness, But Make It Sexy:

Mattheo doesn’t have to raise his voice or throw punches to show how much you’re his. His possessiveness is felt—a deep, simmering intensity that wraps around you.

At parties, his hand is always on you. Resting on your back, on your thigh, on the curve of your waist. Every touch is a claim, subtle but strong.

He doesn’t need to make a scene when someone flirts with you. Instead, you’ll see him lean in, whisper something in your ear, and the person who was trying to flirt with you? Suddenly, they’ll lose interest.

"I believe you’re standing a little too close to her," Mattheo will say, his voice smooth, and then? Instant silence. You’ll never see that person again.

౨ৎ The Soft Side of Mattheo:

Don’t be fooled by his hard exterior—Mattheo has a surprisingly soft side, but only when he’s with you.

He loves wrapping you up in his arms, his strong hands gently cradling your head as he runs his fingers through your hair. The moment the world is quiet, Mattheo will pull you closer, murmuring things only meant for you.

"You’re the only one who can make me feel like I can finally breathe," he’ll whisper, kissing your forehead like it’s the most sacred thing in the world.

He’s the type to hold you while you fall asleep, his hand resting on your back, as though he’s terrified of letting you go.

౨ৎ Mattheo Riddle, the Perfect Boyfriend:

He’s everything you didn’t know you needed. Intense, protective, and slightly toxic, but in the best way possible.

He’ll fight for you, adore you in his own way, and make you feel like you’re the only one in the world.

It’s the kind of love that burns, but in the most thrilling, heart-stopping way possible.

Because, at the end of the day, Mattheo Riddle isn’t just your boyfriend—he’s your protector, your love, your obsession.

And honestly? You’d never want it any other way.

(So yeah, you might occasionally hate how possessive he is, but you love it. Let’s be real, you know he’s all yours and you wouldn’t have it any other way.)

Mattheo Riddle | Obsessive Devotion

If Theodore is calculated destruction, Mattheo Riddle is reckless chaos. He doesn’t just want you to fall apart; he wants to be the reason you can’t put yourself back together. With Mattheo, it’s raw, unrelenting intensity—the kind that leaves you breathless, marked, and utterly ruined.

౨ৎ The Firestarter:

Mattheo thrives on tension, but unlike Theo’s slow burn, Mattheo’s approach is an inferno. He’ll corner you in dark hallways, his hands caging you against the wall, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs something filthy.

"You think you can tease me like that and get away with it? Oh, sweetheart, we’re far from done."

He doesn’t do subtle. His need is primal, immediate, and entirely consuming. If you’re within reach, you’re his—whether it’s in the privacy of his dorm or against a cold stone wall in the dungeons.

౨ৎ Possessive Chaos:

Mattheo doesn’t just want to own you—he needs to make sure everyone else knows it.

He leaves marks on purpose, smirking when you try to cover them up. "Don’t hide it, baby. Let them see who you belong to."

He’ll pull you onto his lap at parties, his hands gripping your thighs possessively, his dark eyes daring anyone to come close.

౨ৎ Praise Me, Baby:

Mattheo isn’t shy about telling you exactly how much he wants you. His words are rough, filthy, and laced with need, but they always leave you trembling.

"You’re a fucking goddess, you know that? Look at you, taking me so perfectly."

He thrives on your reactions—every gasp, every moan, every arch of your back. It’s his fuel, his addiction.

And if you praise him back? If you tell him he’s good, that he’s making you feel amazing? His restraint snaps. He becomes desperate, almost feral, to prove that he can give you everything you want and more.

౨ৎ Control Meets Chaos:

Mattheo loves being in control, but he’s also unpredictable. One moment, he’s guiding you with a firm, steady hand; the next, he’s pinning you down, his lips bruising yours as he loses himself in the heat of the moment.

He’s rough but never careless. Every grip, every bite, every growled "mine" is deliberate, a testament to just how much he adores you.

Push him too far, though—maybe tease him with a sly smile or brush your fingers against his neck when you know he can’t do anything about it—and you’ll unlock a side of him that’s both thrilling and terrifying.

"You want to play games, sweetheart? Fine. But don’t think for a second you’ll win."

౨ৎ The Edge of Obsession:

Mattheo isn’t just devoted—he’s obsessed. He memorizes every little thing about you—your favorite scent, the way your lips twitch when you’re amused, the soft sounds you make when he kisses that spot just below your ear.

He carries your favorite snacks in his bag, not because you asked, but because he noticed you skipped lunch one day.

౨ৎ Endurance King:

Mattheo doesn’t stop until you’re trembling, breathless, and begging for mercy. Even then, he’ll push just a little further, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he watches you fall apart beneath him.

"One more, baby. Just one more. You can do that for me, can’t you?"

And when you think you’ve reached your limit, he’ll hold you close, his voice soft and soothing as he helps you come back down.

౨ৎ Switching It Up:

Mattheo loves being in control, but when you take charge? Oh, it drives him wild. The second you push him onto the bed, straddle his hips, and demand that he behave, he’s putty in your hands.

"You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind, baby."

Watching you take what you want from him—feeling your nails dig into his skin, hearing the way you gasp his name—it’s enough to make him come undone every single time.

౨ৎ The Vulnerable Side of Mattheo:

As intense and chaotic as he is, Mattheo has a softer side that he only shows to you. After the fire has burned out, he’ll hold you close, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispers things he’d never admit in the light of day.

"You’re everything to me, you know that? I’d burn the whole world down for you."

He loves running his fingers through your hair, tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he listens to your heartbeat. It’s in those quiet moments that you see the depth of his devotion—the way he’s completely, irreversibly yours.

౨ৎ Mattheo Riddle, The Lover You’ll Never Forget:

He’s fire and brimstone, chaos and passion, but beneath it all is a man who would do anything to make you feel loved, desired, and protected.

With Mattheo, every touch, every word, every moment is a whirlwind of intensity that leaves you craving more.

Because once you’ve been loved by Mattheo Riddle? No one else will ever compare.

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scarletmika · 16 days ago

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The White Witch pt. 2 : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Reader

PART ONE - PART TWO - PART THREE

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds/Sentry x Avenger!Witch!Reader

Summary: Bob knew who the Avengers were, who you were; he grew up watching them save the world time and time again. Now, he was one, but none of that could prepare him for what it would be like to meet you, or the instant connection that seemed to flow between you both.

Warnings: soulmate trope, language, fluff, slight mental illness talk kind of, SPOILERS I guess for Thunderbolts*, feminine description of reader, this is part two of three

Word Count: 3,576 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

Bob Reynolds was going insane, and it was your fault. The worst part? You didn’t even know it.

At least, he wasn’t sure if you knew it.

You had come back to the tower with the rest of his friends, his team, to discuss the lawsuit that Sam Wilson had filed over the name ‘Avengers.’ Bob heard small bits of the long conversation, how you tried to explain that Sam didn’t have a problem with them, he had a problem with Valentina and the government using the name, how keeping ‘The Avengers’ out of the hands of the government was something that Steve Rogers had fought so valiantly for.

That was all Bob was able to gather from the conversation, quickly disappearing into his own bedroom of the tower. And the second his door was shut, he was pacing the floor so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he left legitimate footprints seared into the flooring beneath him.

He knew three things for certain: you were even prettier in person than in photos, you were in town for the next two months for the opening of the exhibition, and since the moment your hands had touched, he could somehow practically feel you in ways he couldn’t describe. Bob decided to tackle each of those things one at a time.

You were pretty, he couldn’t deny that. He knew who you were; he didn’t grow up under a rock, and even drug-induced fugue states couldn’t make him forget who the Avengers were. Did he, maybe, have the tiniest crush on you growing up? Absolutely, but when there was a superhero witch that was your age, saving the world every day, who wouldn’t fall in love? But actually meeting you, seeing you in person, maybe that little crush he’d buried so long ago was creeping back in, especially when he’d stood close enough to you to even see the crackle of magic in your eyes.

Okay, the second thing he knew was probably the biggest problem, but the one he didn’t understand: why could he feel you? It didn’t make any sense, why even now, when he was sequestered in his own room, he could feel it in his bones, in his gut, that you were somewhere else in the tower and you were laughing, a bubble of joy spreading through him. Did you feel this too? Could you feel the anxiety in him that was practically eating him from the inside out?

The final problem was that you were here, and you’d be here for two months. 60 days.

Bob's solution to all three of these problems was simple: ignore you. Steer clear of you around every turn, and he wouldn’t have to deal with these weird feelings coursing through him, or how every time he pictured your face in his head, you only seemed to get prettier (as if that was possible).

“Morning, Bob,”

The plan encountered a small hiccup when, not even twenty-four hours later, Bob was strolling into the kitchen of the tower hours before the rest of the team would, and there you stood. Hair a mess, a worn-out Black Sabbath t-shirt that looked much too big to be yours hanging loosely off your frame, and a soft smile that made his heart flutter on your face as you greeted him.

“Uh, I uh…hi?”

You’d chuckled at his awkwardness, turning back to the coffee machine before you, while Bob still stood frozen in the doorway of the kitchen, ready to bolt if he needed to.

“Thought I was the only person insane enough to be up this early, nice to know that I’m not. Coffee?”

“Uh…s-sure,” Bob answered after a moment, taking cautious steps around the island counter to sit in one of the uncomfortable barstools Valentina had insisted on for the ‘look’ of the room. “What uh…what are you d-doing here?”

His eyes stayed trained on you as you poured a single cup of coffee into one of the mugs from the cabinets. He followed your movements as you pushed it off to the side, pouring another cup before raising your hand above the mug, fingers seeming to dance over the top of the liquid with the faintest hints of white magic seeping from your fingers as the brown color of the coffee inside the cup lightened into a deep tan.

“It was Yelena’s idea. I’m still a public figure, a prominent one at that, so for security reasons it doesn’t make sense for me to stay anywhere else in the city for the time being. While, sadly, under Valentina’s control, this tower is the safest guarded spot in New York. Plus, it was my home first, so staying here just made sense,”

You were standing directly across from him now at the island counter, sliding the first coffee mug you’d poured in his direction, just watching him. Bob watched you too, even as he took the steaming mug in his hands: you were cautious, speaking slowly and deliberately when you looked at him, as if sensing that he was poised to run if he needed to.

Bob took one sip before shutting his eyes in disgust, a shudder running through him. Bitter. Earthy. Disgusting was the word he’d use to describe coffee. Then, you laughed, and Bob felt it in his bones once again.

“Not a fan?” the amusement in your tone was clear as Bob shook his head, a sheepish, tiny grin crossing his face.

“I uh…I don’t actually drink c-coffee,”

You didn’t laugh, only smiled. And Bob watched as your eyes never left him, hand coming up to rest over his mug still in his hands as your fingers danced again, and suddenly the color of the drink he had just decided he hated lightened, matching your own.

“Try it now,” your voice was gentle, nodding toward the mug. “I hate straight black coffee, too. And your roommates are monsters; there wasn’t an ounce of creamer in this fridge, so I had to improvise.”

Bob’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he tried the new drink. Lighter, with a hint of chocolate. A touch of sugar, and what he thought might be honey, too. His smile was involuntary as he nodded his head.

“Okay…that I-I like,”

You laughed once again, and Bob felt it through his whole body once again. The lightness, as if the darkest parts of him were shoved and locked away. Peace.

He knew, then, that his plan was fucked.

You were everywhere. No matter what Bob was doing, you seemed to end up in the same orbit as him, spending your time around him. And when you weren’t? Bob found his way to you. Coffee in the morning became a constant between you both, a comfortable hour and a half together before anyone else woke up. Whenever John and Alexei managed to convince Bob that he should train, you ended up in the room with Yelena, watching him. And without fail, the two men could instantly notice the way that Bob seemed to perk up and try harder when you were watching.

It got easier to accept how pretty you were…and by easier, Bob meant it was just easier for him to ignore the raging blush that coated his cheeks anytime he was in close proximity to you. What didn’t get easier were the feelings. When you smiled and laughed, he could feel it. The two times he saw you leave a meeting room after having a private conversation with Valentina, he could feel it then too: the anger and the resentment.

There was one night when John and Ava were arguing in the middle of the common room after a mission. Loud, insults being thrown left and right, and nothing Bucky, Yelena, or Alexei said was calming them. Bob was off to the side, wringing his hands together, the argument playing out before him feeling all too familiar to those he’d watched of his parents. Then, suddenly, you’d burst out of the elevator, still in the clothes that you had been wearing from your meeting downtown with the mayor that Bob was sure you were still supposed to be in, throwing the two apart with a single flick of your wrist and ordering them to stop in a tone that only an Avenger could carry.

And when Bucky had asked you why you left your meeting, you’d told him you knew something was wrong. And when he asked you how you knew? Bob swore your eyes had darted to him before you spoke: “I…I don’t know. I could just…feel something was wrong.”

That was the first moment Bob thought that maybe, just maybe, you could feel what he felt, just like he could with you.

“It was right here where we sent Loki back to Asgard with Thor. God…I was a child back then, who thought it was a good idea to let me fight a god?”

Bob enjoyed moments like this the most in the few weeks he’d gotten to be around you. The rest of the team had been sent on a mission, and Bob was required to stay behind for this one, per Valentina’s request. Bob was sick of having to hang back, of feeling like a liability, so you’d taken it upon yourself to stay with him for the duration of his team’s time away. He hadn’t even had to ask, you’d simply appeared in his doorway and said you were taking him out.

He knew where he stood with you right now, you didn’t have to say it: the Bethesda Terrace in Central Park. He’d seen the bystander photos in their quick tour of the unopened museum hanging on the wall, commemorating the ‘Battle of New York’ from way back in 2012, a time that felt like a millennium ago. You were stood side by side, leaning against the railing of the terrace and simply people watching those around the fountain, and while part of Bob wanted to feel upset about not being on the mission, your presence calmed him. Being around you felt like that moment he’d shaken your hand for the first time, that wave of calm and peace washing over him, washing away his anxieties.

“A-At least you got to help, to fight,” Bob mumbled, though he knew you could hear him. His eyes stayed trained on this couple sitting together on the edge of the fountain, their hands wrapped around one another and fingers intertwined as she laughed at him as if he were the funniest person she’d ever seen. “I just do dishes. Makes me…makes me f-feel useless.”

There was silence for a moment, just the sound of everyone milling around the area. The screaming children, the laughter of friends, and then suddenly your hand was resting on top of Bob’s, and every ounce of anxiety just seemed to roll off his body without a second thought. He turned to you, and you were watching him with a soft smile.

“You’re not, I promise,” your hand left his, eyes turning back to the fountain, and Bob felt the need to chase after the feeling immediately. “When Fury brought me onto the team, Steve took me under his wing immediately. He became this brother I’d never had before, but with that came protectiveness. I remember when he tried to leave me out of the D.C. incident and I screamed at him that he couldn’t keep me out of it forever, that he couldn’t…he couldn’t make me feel useless, not when I am what I am. Valentina leaves you out of it because she’s a bitch, and trust me I’m itching for a way to knock her off her pedestal. The team does it because they care about you, which is a good thing, but if you have to be honest with them about how you feel.”

Your words took hold of Bob, but so did your voice. Quiet, but certain, words spoken with a level of care that Bob had never had directed toward him until he met Yelena. And then, he felt it: affection, care, kindness. It felt like you, because it was you, and he felt it so deeply in his bones that it ached.

Bob was aware of the eyes that were on you as people walked past you both, the people who recognized you for what you were in their eyes: a hero. His eyes stayed locked on the side of your face, a gentleness in his eyes and an affection toward you that he hadn’t felt before blooming in his own chest, watching as the corner of your lips quirked up just a hint.

“W-Why do you do it? Why do you want to be a hero?”

“Well, at first I wasn’t given a choice, Fury kind of threw me into it,” you’d laughed, turning your head to look at him again as a smile stretched over Bob’s lips at the sound of your laugh. “Remember that friend I mentioned?”

“The one you lost?”

“Yeah, him,” that fondness was back in your voice, but so was the tug of hurt in Bob’s chest that he’d felt the last time you spoke of your friend. “If Steve took me in like a sister, then I took him in like a little brother. Pe- he was so good, so pure. And I’ll never forget what he said once: ‘When you can do the things that I can, but you don't, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.’ That’s why I continue to do what they did, what my family did. But the real question is, why do you want to be one, Bob?”

“S-So I can do something good,” Bob didn’t have to think about his answer as he looked at you, at the eyes and smile that encouraged him to speak and held a promise of never judging him. “I don’t want to make things worse…I-I want to make them better.”

The conversation ended there, nothing else needing to be said. Then, Bob found himself curled into a corner of the common room couch hours later while you ran around the kitchen to prepare the popcorn, promising to show him a bunch of movies that you adored and used to watch with the Avengers that came before them—promising to tell him stories of the people that used to be your family.

“Alright, I’ve got kettlecorn,” you reappeared next to the couch, smiling down at him and holding both of the bowls in your hands up for him to see. “And the closest that I could get to butter-drenched, movie theater popcorn. Pick your poison.”

“Movie theater,” Bob nodded his head with a grin that you mirrored. “I-If I’m going to get heart disease, might as well get it happily.”

You laughed, and this time Bob was prepared for that feeling in his bones. He welcomed it, the warmth it brought, and it brought another feeling of his own to the surface: affection. That same feeling he’d never felt before, until just hours before, and suddenly, when he looked at you and how pretty you looked in the dim lighting of the common room, Bob’s breath caught as his brain seemed to catch up with his heart.

Oh god, his crush was back in full force.

He watched as you tilted your head for a moment, still not taking the seat beside him on the couch. You only watched him, a slightly curious look on your face, and Bob shifted. That seemed to break you from your trance-like state as you sat beside him, passing him the popcorn bowl he requested as you kept the other.

But when your hand grabbed the remote, prepared to press play on the first Rocky movie, you stopped. You hesitated. Then, you put the remote back down before you spoke.

“You know…I can feel it, too,”

Bob paused, frozen in place, as you turned to look at him. He opened his mouth, prepared to find a way to talk around the topic, to pretend like he didn’t know what you were talking about, but there was no ignoring it now.

“You…you do?” his voice was a whisper, anxiety dripping off his words. You laughed again, and when Bob felt it this time, he could also feel the bits of anxiety laced through your laugh.

“Yeah, since the moment I shook your hand,” you fully turned to face him now, a perfect mirror of one another. Backs pressed to opposite ends of the couch, legs tucked under your bodies, and nervous, tiny smiles etched to your lips. “And I…I think I know what it is. I didn’t for a while, but then I called some friends.”

“Friends?”

“There’s not much that the Masters of the Mystic Arts don’t know,” you’d tried to joke, getting a breathy laugh out of Bob. “What he explained to me was…ancient. Rare. Something only seen twice in history, but both times it had been with witches. The French were the first to document it…they dubbed it an âme sœur.”

“A-An…an âme-?”

“When the Big Bang occurred, when the universe was created, it created the Infinity Stones. But it created more than that,” you’d cut in, voice speaking so quickly that Bob could pick up the nerves laced throughout your explanation. “Many races in the universe, most notably humans, believed that each of us was born of the stars, that a piece of the universe lives in each of us. And when the universe was born, those stars were scattered, which placed us where we are now. But, in rare instances, those stars would split. They could be hurled galaxies apart, on different planets within the same solar system, or just miles apart. But, subconsciously, they’d find one another again. They’d…they’d complete one another. That these two people were so intune with one another that they could…they could feel one another. The two witches before me, they could feel their other halves…that’s how they found their âme sœurs…their soulmates.”

Bob’s breath caught, eyes transfixed on the way you bit into your bottom lip, more anxious than he’d ever seen before.

“S-Soulmate?”

“It can mean a lot of things,” you’d laughed lightly. “The first pair? They were best friends, and they remained that way forever. The other two…they were friends first, until it became more. Until they fell in love. It’s essentially just someone who’s meant to be in your life, someone destined to walk your path with you. Friends or lovers…that’s for them to decide.”

Friends or lovers. The next question was tumbling through Bob’s lips and out into the world before he could overthink and stop himself.

“T-Then…what are we?”

That question hung heavy in the air between you both. Bob watched you open your mouth to speak, before shutting it, repeating that action time and time again as you tried to find the right words to say.

“I think that means…we’re whatever we decide we’re going to be,”

Those words settled in Bob, and a wave of calm seemed to envelop the room around you both, as if having your destiny spoken out loud put everything into perspective finally. And all he could do was look at you with a look of absolute wonder written across his features.

Before he could speak, the elevators opened.

“AH, OUR BEAUTIFUL HOME! It is so good to be back, my friends! I say we get matchy-matchy in our tracksuits and spend this evening enjoying each other’s company, maybe with a fresh pot of hot cocoa,”

“Hot cocoa? Jesus, you sound more like Santa every day-”

“And how could you miss this place? We only left for the mission this morning?”

You’d gotten off the couch to greet the others, the moment between you both shattered. But Bob’s gaze never left your figure, even as you moved about the room. And when that bloom of affection found its way back into his chest, it had changed: desire, the need to hold you, the need to worship you, the need to taste you and claim you as his in a way he’d never felt before. And by the glance you threw over your shoulder to him, he knew you could feel it, too.

Fuck, this wasn’t just a crush.

So, when Bucky Barnes threw open his door at 2:36 in the morning to a dissheveled Bob Reynolds who looked like he’d just run several marathons, he already knew it wasn’t going to be good.

“Bob-?”

“I-I think…I think I’m in love with her. L-Like, I think we’re destined to uh, to be in love. Like, even if I didn’t want to be I-I wouldn’t have a choice, like I’m meant to love her. Well, not entirely, we can kind of d-decide if we’re going to be. But it doesn’t feel like a choice, i-it feels like I’m meant to. But even if it wasn’t destined I-I think I’d still fall in love with her because she’s so pretty a-and nice and she treats me like me, and…yeah. Yeah, I’m…I’m in love with her,”

Bob took a deep breath, having ranted to the man before him without taking in a single breath of air. There was a beat of silence, and then a sigh from the super soldier standing in the doorway.

“Well, destiny or whatever this is aside, did you tell her all of this?”

“...no?”

Another sigh. “...god damnit, Bob,”

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