#brought to you by me going outside in the cold weather and wishing i had grabbed my scarf from my dorm

[omni-scient-pan-da]

A scarf is one of the most... Romantic isn't quite the right word? But I think a scarf is one of the most caring things you can gift someone I think

Like... Here, take this, stay warm, think of me while you wear it, I don't want you to get cold outside so please take this as a sign that I care about you and your well being

It's not something you really need to measure in order to see if it'll fit someone, and it's easy enough to find a scarf that matches someone's aesthetic I think and... Idk

I feel like it says a lot, but maybe I'm just sentimental

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 1.4k | tags: college au, meet-cute thank to a fire alarm | @steddielovemonth prompt Love is giving him your sweater even if it makes you cold by @stevesbipanic | AO3)

Everyone had told Steve that college would be so much fun. Freedom from the crushing expectations of his parents breathing down his neck. Parties every weekend and a huge dating pool to choose from. An open-minded and progressive culture that made exploring his sexuality easy and fun instead of kind of suicidal like it had been in his small-minded hometown in Bumfuck Indiana.

What no one had told him was that telling his father that he didn't want to go to business school, that he wanted to teach, would result in his father refusing to pay Steve's tuition.

They didn't disown him, but his parents made it clear that they thought his time in college was a waste of time. At least as long as he was studying something his parents considered beneath a Harrington. To them, becoming a teacher basically meant becoming someone else's doormat just because he wanted to teach their kids.

So he was on his own financially, which frankly took a lot of the fun out of college. Suddenly, partying and dating had to take a back seat to the fact that paying for rent, food, and tuition meant limiting his college experience.

It meant working before or after class.

It meant working his ass off for his classes so he could graduate as soon as possible.

It meant living in the dorms instead of his own place.

Which is exactly what led to him standing outside in the middle of the night in the freezing cold of October in just his boxers and hoodie because some asshole set off the fire alarm in their building.

Steve shivered as he huddled with his fellow freezing students in the dimly lit courtyard, glancing around to see if anyone had brought extra clothes. The chilly wind cut through him, and he cursed his luck for not grabbing a coat when the fire alarm blared through the dorm. He was glad that he had his hoodie right next to his bed so grabbing it on his way out of bed was almost second nature. His sleep-shirt, even thinner and softer from constant wear, was not much in the face of the chilly October weather in Chicago.

As the students exchanged disgruntled glances and whispered complaints, Steve noticed a figure huddled alone on a bench, looking particularly uncomfortable in the cold. Squinting through the dim light, he recognized the boy who lived two doors down from him — Eddie.

All in all, they had exchanged a handful of words, for while Steve was a morning person, often up before the sun to go running, Eddie was a night person by choice. Their paths most often crossed in the wee hours of the morning, one's day beginning as the other's was ending. If Steve were telling the whole truth, he would have to admit that he had tried to time his morning runs to make it more likely that he would run into Eddie.

The guy was cute, sue him. Dimples, big chocolate brown doe eyes, dark curls often tamed into a messy bun at the back of his head so that his tantalizing collarbones peeked out from under the collar of his too-big shirts. It drove Steve a little crazy, but so far he hadn't done anything about it.

Maybe this was his chance to fix that.

Despite the biting cold, Eddie offered a shy smile as Steve approached. "Hey, Steve, right? I'd say it was good to see you, but to be honest, I like it better when I run into you in the hallway."

"Yeah, that's me," Steve replied with a small chuckle, trying to shake off the cold. "Mind if I sit here? It's freezing."

"Go ahead," Eddie said, making room on the bench.

Steve sat down and soon they were huddled together for warmth. It was surprisingly nice, even if he still wished he was somewhere warmer. In the midst of the chilly chaos that had become this random Wednesday night, Steve couldn't help but feel a strange connection forming between him and Eddie as they both sat on that lone bench watching a fire truck arrive. There was a sense of camaraderie that hadn't been present in their earlier nods and small talk in the hallway because of the shared discomfort of their current situation.

Maybe this whole ordeal could turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

They started talking, finding common ground in the shared annoyance of the fire alarm and the absurdity of being forced out into the cold in the middle of the night. As they chatted, Steve couldn't help but notice how easy it was to talk to Eddie.

"You look even colder than I do," Steve remarked after a while, having noticed that Eddie's wiry frame was shaking more and more.

"I didn't have time to grab anything. I was just about to crash when the alarm went off," Eddie explained, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

Without a second thought, Steve unzipped his hoodie and draped it over Eddie’s shoulders. "Here, it's not much, but it's better than nothing."

Eddie's eyes widened in surprise and a warmth flooded Steve's chest as he watched the boy pull the hoodie tighter around him. "Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it. But now you don't have anything. That shirt looks good on you, but not really warm."

It's true, Steve can already feel the goosebumps on his skin, but he's not ashamed to use that as an excuse to huddle even closer to Eddie. "It's okay, really. I’m running a little hot anyway. Besides, you could help keep me warm?" He added slyly, giving Eddie a long look from under his lashes and enjoying the adorable blush that rose to his cheeks.

"It would be my pleasure, my knight in shining armor. Or rather, my knight in a Queen shirt." With that, Eddie opened the hoodie and gestured for Steve to lean in. Having hoped for such a reaction, Steve scooted even closer, wrapped his arms around Eddie's middle and let him drape the hoodie around them both.

As they sat there, sharing the hoodie and enduring the cold together, Steve found himself drawn to Eddie in a way he hadn't expected. While he'd found Eddie cute from the start, it was only now that he felt this almost magnetic pull toward the other boy, and their laughter amidst the chaos of the fire alarm only strengthened that feeling. Half an hour ago Steve had been ready to call this the worst night of his college experience and now he felt warm and safe, something settling inside him that he hadn't even realized was out of place.

Steve was in the middle of telling Eddie a story about the gaggle of kids he was babysitting at home and how they were coming to visit him soon. Just as he was telling him about his hunt for one of those weird dice sets with too many sides for the nerd game the kids were playing, they were surprised by the sudden sound of silence that filled the air.

The absence of the blaring fire alarm signaled the all-clear to return to their rooms.

As the crowd in front of them began to disperse, Eddie reluctantly started to remove the hoodie from around them, clearly wanting to give it back. Steve stopped him, though, enjoying the sight of Eddie in his hoodie far too much.

He realized he didn't want Eddie to give the hoodie back. He didn't want this night to end here and go back to his room, to his bed, alone.

"You know, I've got a coffee maker in my room. Want to warm up with a cup?" He suggested suddenly, trying to make his voice and eyes as inviting as possible as he looked hopefully at Eddie.

Eddie hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching Steve's cautiously. But something in Steve's eyes must have told him what he was looking for, making him throw caution to the wind. "Sure, why not?"

Smiling broadly, Steve grabbed Eddie's hand and started walking toward their building. He had the feeling that he should be reeling more from the whiplash he had gotten that night, but all he could feel was the joy of anticipation.

They walked back inside, leaving the cold behind, and as Steve sipped a cup of warm coffee, he realized that sometimes unexpected circumstances can lead to the most beautiful connections. Little did he know that the accidental fire alarm would be the spark that ignited a flame of love in his heart that would burn hot and bright for decades to come.

It didn't even dim when, on their wedding day, Eddie confessed during their vows that he was the one who set off the fire alarm by falling asleep with a pizza in the oven.

[suzayaaa]

BOYFRIEND CRITERIA - 천러

pairing: chenle x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

theme: non-idol!chenle, angst? fluff? hmm…, suggestive if you force it to be, bestfriends to lovers

warnings: mentions of food, cursing

suza’s note: the amount of time it took me to write this is an absolute crime

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“I’m coming over.” Chenle’s voice buzzed through your phone speaker.

“No, you’re not?” You frown at your best friend’s statement, but keep your eyes focused on the mobile game you’re playing.

“Yes, I am!”

“I won’t speak.”

“Then we’ll sit in silence. Keep the door unlocked.”

“Chenle-” Before you can tell him off, he hangs up and you throw your phone on your bed with a groan.

Chenle has been extremely stubborn about ‘helping’ you deal with your breakup. You two had become friends long before you met your now ex-boyfriend, and he saw every stage of your past relationship.

You always knew the relationship wasn’t going to be long-term. It was obvious, you two were too different to be able to handle each other. But you had fun, so you stayed. You never felt any deeper connection to your ex though—attraction was the most you could call it.

Still, cutting the strings off is always difficult, no matter who it is. Letting go of someone is a decision most people are afraid to make, but sometimes it’s inevitable. You knew you had to change something when the adrenaline wasn’t as high as usual during your dates and the makeout sessions became forgettable, yet you were too immature for that change. You ignored it, saying maybe it’s temporary or it’s just a bad day. After all, he wasn’t a bad guy, and you were scared to hurt his feelings.

You didn’t expect your ex to be the first one to break the bubble, and you didn’t expect it to affect you.

So, at first, you understood Chenle. He helped you work through your emotions and find yourself in a new, single, reality. His everyday efforts made the post-breakup depression somewhat enjoyable, and as much as you appreciate your best friend, you really wish he could leave you alone. At least for a day.

It’s been a month.

You’re all good now. You’ve moved on. The past is the past and you live in the present. You don’t need anyone to babysit you, yet Chenle still won’t leave you even for a second “in case you’re feeling bad and don’t want to tell him”.

That’s why you don’t react when you hear a series of loud knocks and the front door snaps open. You also don’t react when he yells your name so loudly that the whole building can hear, and you keep ignoring him when he appears at your bedroom door, a blush on his nose caused by the cold weather and two bags in hand.

He comes to your bed, stopping right in front of it, drops the bags on your sheets, and looks at you incredulously. “You’re seriously not gonna talk?” You keep your stare at the traffic outside the window, but see from your peripheral vision that Chenle started to unpack the bags. “I brought us snacks on the way,” he puts the snacks next to you and you can’t help but turn your head to look at them. “If you won’t talk, then eat.”

You watch him sit next to you and rest his back against the headboard, and you take a pack of your favorite cookies. You open it and start munching on a cookie in silence as Chenle plays with his phone while rambling about his day to you.

You want to talk to him, but you’re a woman of words. When you say something, you stick to it—doesn’t matter how stupid it is. Chenle is the same. You two are probably the most stubborn people on this planet, so you both always hold onto whatever comes to your mind. Yet despite your strong personality, he always finds a way to break you.

Chenle sacrifices every minute of his free time to spend it with you and to possibly make your day better. He spends his money to treat you and adjusts himself to you and your special needs.

You’re his princess, even though you tell him you can handle yourself a hundred times a day. The gap between the favors you do for each other is monumental, yet he never complains.

You rest your back against the headboard and decide to give up your principles again.

“Nevermind,” your mumble cuts his rambles and he gives you an unimpressed side-eye.

“Now you talk?”

“Don’t be rude to me. That’s my privilege.”

“Did that guy have those privileges too?” He asks, almost mockingly, not even sparing you a glance.

“What are you talking about?” You cringe at his weird behavior and put the cookie away.

“Who could I possibly be talking about? Or is there someone new?” You snap your head and glare at him as you hear him scoff.

“Chenle, what the fuck are you talking about? And why are you even mentioning him? I told you so many times! He’s my ex, I’m over him. He’s irrelevant now.”

“I don’t know.”

“But I do! Besides, he wasn’t like I want my boyfriend to be.”

“What do you want then?”

You stare at him, weirded out by the sudden change of topic, but you brush it off.

“Well…” You straighten your posture and look up. “I want someone handsome and confident. Someone honest and straightforward, a good kisser too,” you smirk at your own words. “Someone who will take care of me, a guy with a good sense of humor, and someone I have great chemistry with…” Your smile slowly fades as thoughts rush to your head, “someone who’s willing to spend their free time with me,” and your voice shrinks as you realize. “Someone… Um…”

“Someone what?” Chenle’s unreadable expression makes you want to curl up and die. You quickly try to come up with an excuse, but his stare on you leaves your mind completely blank.

“You know what, nevermind, I don’t know,” you cover your mouth with your hand and turn your head away from him. You quickly get up from your bed and try to leave the room. “Actually, I think you should go home now.”

“Why?” He gets up and walks towards you. “Because you just described me?”

You freeze. Your stare gets stuck on the floor and you gulp nervously, “Uh, what? No, I didn’t.” He scoffs again and looks at the back of your head.

“Right, there’s one thing you don’t know yet.”

He turns you around so you can face him and lifts your chin with his fingers, never breaking eye contact.

“You don’t know how I kiss.”

He puts his hand on your nape, carefully caressing your neck with his thumb. His eyes flick from yours to your lips and he’s so close you can feel his breath on your face and your heartbeat pressing to his chest. Your fingers brush against his on your chin and he intertwines your hands, pulling them down. You look at him closely, your mouth slightly open.

When your eyes meet again, nothing matters anymore. All you feel is his delicate touch, all you see is his beautiful face, all you hear is his quiet breathing. The smell of his perfume surrounds you and pulls you closer than you have ever been. He looks at your lips again. You nod your head and the butterflies in your stomach explode when your lips finally meet.

The kiss is all Chenle. The taste of the snacks you ate earlier mixes in your mouths, his warm hands calmly play with your hair and fingers as he softly bites your lip. You don’t want to ever let go, the tender touches and playful smiles make you go feral. Just as you put your free hand on his waist to pull him closer, Chenle stops and slowly moves away from you.

He looks at you and gulps. “Did I ruin us?”

Your eyes stay focused on his pink and slightly swollen lips. It’s like he put a spell on you, all you can think of is the euphoria you felt seconds ago. “No, not at all.” You wrap your arms around his neck and close the gap between you one more time.

Chenle breaks out into a smile and kisses you back, this time more confidently. His hands go to your waist and hold you tightly, your fingers find a way to lightly pull at Chenle’s locks. The kiss is more steady now, more secure. Knowing the feeling is mutual puts you both at ease, and you use this moment to the fullest, enjoying every touch. You alternate between little pecks, deep kisses, teasing smooches, and everything you can think of until you satisfy your hunger for each other.

You pull away but stay in the embrace, looking into each other’s eyes lovingly. Chenle scans the blush on your cheeks and smirks.

“So, do I fit your boyfriend criteria?”

You throw your head back with a laugh. “Yeah. 100%.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[jaylver]

BACK TO DECEMBER — P.JS

synopsis: finding closure by meeting your ex somehow only brought you back to the night in december where you broke his heart. it was then you realised how much you wished to go back and fix everything, but you can’t. 

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: angst, exes (to friends?), pining, slight rekindling

warning(s): none

wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy december! it's going to be a depressive december where i write angsty christmas related stuff AHAHA. hope you'd enjoy this one! apologies in advance for any mistakes since i wrote this in one shot lawl. as always, please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

December. 

The blinding white snow and festive season all around that should’ve given you comfort only haunted you. The cold air didn’t compare to the feeling of how your heart felt as you stood outside the cafe. A scarf wrapped around your neck wasn’t enough to stop you from shaking a little, not knowing if it was the nerves or the cold.

The sound of the bell clinking signalled your appearance in the cafe. Warmth spread through you at once, the cheery atmosphere inside was the contrary to the chilliness outside, and it somehow made you feel a little more relieved. However, not completely relieved when you stepped closer to the table where he sat., eventually standing in front of him, watching him slowly looking up from his phone.

“Jong Seong,”

Your past lover stared back at you, the look on his face was indescribable. He seemed as if he had seen a ghost, most likely the ghost of his past. He was still the same, almost unchanging excluding the slight difference in hairstyle. It was the same as seeing him on your last night together. 

“Y/N, hey,” he visibly swallowed, the grip on his phone also tightening. 

You sat on the chair opposite him, noticing a cup of coffee already ordered and placed in front of you. Jay might’ve realised the look of confusion on your face, offering an explanation. “I ordered a latte for you. It’s your go-to order anyway,”

“Oh,” You paused. He remembered your order. After those times, he still kept them in mind. How could he? “Thank you, I’ll pay you—”

“It’s on me, don’t worry,” The same words he would say every time he bought you coffee, the exact actions where he waved his hands and shook his head. They were all identical.

“Alright. Thank you, again,” you managed a small smile, suddenly wishing you hadn’t asked him to meet you in the first place. “I’m so glad you made time to see me,”

“It’s no problem. I’m back to visit my family anyway, I’ll be free,” the fact that he had moved away and gotten another job in a different city right after your break up would always pinch your heart. He had never said anything about leaving, so why did he? Was it because of you?

You nodded briefly, excusing the nightmarish thoughts from your mind. “So, how’s life? Tell me,”

“I’ve been good, busier than ever,”

“Finally settled in?”

“Quite. Not all there yet,” he winced a little, shrugging his shoulders. “You?”

“Not much. Everything’s almost like before,”

‘Before’ was enough for Jay to get the hint. Just the word alone was able to speak more than it should have, causing a sense of solemn settling in the cold evening air. 

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “How’s your family? I haven't seen them in a while,”

“They’re great! Mum and dad are both healthy, they’re the same as ever,”

There it was. The same hint of the past.

The conversation soon rolled into a certain dullness, awkwardness present and apparent. Small talks about work and the weather, you could tell his guard was up, and you knew why. It was because the last time he saw you was still burned in the back of your mind, the time when everything came crashing down.

Once the coffee was drained from your cup, you knew it was most likely time to part ways. You’ve said what you said, you saw his face, unknowingly getting closure in the process. But was it longing that pulled at your heartstrings when you locked eyes with him? His saccharine eyes brought back memories and comfort, the feeling close to home. 

The snow was falling outside when you and him exited the cafe. It was time to part ways, once again. You had your hand wrapped around yourself, and Jay had his hands tucked in the pockets of his coat. The sight of it reminded you of the countless winters you’ve had together, standing at the exact spot, by the entrance of the cafe where you shared your favourite hot coffees at. 

“I’m sorry,”

Confusion turned into hurt, Jay came to term about the meaning behind your sudden burst of an apology. It seemed that he hadn’t let go of it either. There you were, swallowing your pride, facing the man you loved.

“I’m sorry for that night,” the night where you left his roses to wilt and eventually did the same to him as well. 

It was a mistake to have treated him like that, but how could you blame yourself? You were selfish, you had to be, you had to do all it takes to achieve your dreams and breaking the heart of the man you loved was what it took. 

You hated December. If you had the chance, you would go back to the time somewhere in December a few years back to rewrite your mistakes, because it turns out freedom was nothing but missing him. Stupid you were, wishing you’d realised what you had when he was yours. 

Jay heaved a sigh, the air condensing into a mist. “Thank you. I’m sorry too.”

That’s when you knew if you could, you’d go back to December all the time, turn it around and make it alright.

You were haunted, plagued by him. 

Agreeing to an early Christmas party invite shouldn’t have been a regret until you saw his face appearing there, realising that you two shared mutual friends too. In the end, you’d always be connected some way or another, it was inevitable considering having history together.

You wished you were lying when you said you haven’t been sleeping well ever since seeing him that day in the cafe. Staying up and playing back the moment of yourself leaving, the piercing feeling of regret keeping you awake. 

You recalled the start of the year when his birthday rolled around and you cursed yourself for remembering, just like how you remembered everything else about him. His birthday passed, and you didn’t call. For the first time, you weren’t the first to wish him ‘happy birthday’.

It was then you thought about summer, all the beautiful times. You could picture everything perfectly, every second spent together and the littlest details of them all. One that stuck out most was you watching him laughing from the passenger side, the same time where you realised you had fallen in love completely and undeniably. 

That was until the cold came and the dark days when fear crept into your mind. He had given you all his love, but all you did was give him a ‘goodbye’.

Now, as you stared at him from afar, not missing the sparks shining in his irises and the curves of his lips, you finally grasped the unceremonious fact that you missed him, utterly and shamefully so. 

You missed his tan skin, his sweet smile, the way he has always been so good and so right to you. It all brought you back to that September night, when he held you in his arms, letting you cry into his shirt. It was the first time he ever saw you cry, and you allowed yourself to be fully transparent with him.

It was wishful thinking, probably mindless dreaming, having him in your thoughts and missing him, but you let yourself feel after a long time. You’d go back in time to change it, yet, alas you couldn’t.

You swore, if you and him loved again, you’d love him right. But now, if the key to his heart had changed, you’d understand.

His gaze travelled over to you, unintentionally locking with your eyes. Longing and sadness clung onto the connection between the both of you, but all you could do was nothing. 

Take me back to December.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

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[greynatomy]

outside perspective

katie mccabe x reader

third part to my mccabe fic. there wasn’t supposed to be a second or third but i’ve just liked to write this.

part 1 part 2

———

Casey is attending an Arsenal game with three of her friends. Decked out in jerseys of their favorite players, posters in hand, they make their way to their seats, right by the field.

Arsenal walks onto the field to warm up. Fans start to cheer. It was very cold out so most fans had on big puffy jackets and scarves. As Casey converses with her friends, a figure sits in the open seat next to her.

Looking to her left, she tries not to freak out seeing Y/N Y/LN sitting next to her. She’s surprised to not see you in a private box. She was hoping to see you, especially after the instagram live incident, and see you watch Katie be captain today.

“Good evening.” You greeted Casey. Breaking out of her shocked state, she greeted you back. “It’s freezing out right now. Wish I brought a thicker jacket.”

“I surprisingly came prepared for the weather.” Casey replied, not really believing who she’s talking to.

“Who’s the one player you’re hoping to meet?”

“Oh, Alessia Russo. She amazing.”

“She is, isn’t she?”

The players have just finished warmups and walking back into the tunnel. Katie, spots where you told her you’d be sitting.

“‘ey there, lovey.”

“Hey, baby.”

Katie reaches over and pulls you in for a hug. She frowns, feeling you shivering.

“You’re shivering, baby.”

“Just a bit cold. Didn’t realize how cold it was gonna be.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Casey watches as Katie runs away towards the tunnel. Not even a minute later, she comes back with the big red windbreakers all the nonstarters are wearing.

“Put this on.” Katie didn’t let you say anything and just started putting your arms through the sleeves, flipping the hood over your head.

“I look like a marshmallow.”

“You look cute. But I’ve got to go now. See you after?”

“Always.”

Casey’s heart nearly melted hearing the conversation. Her heart actually melted when Katie leaned down to give you a kiss.

“You guys are so cute.” The statement came out before Casey could stop herself. She slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes going wide. You just laugh, thanking her for the compliment.

You were fairly quiet, scrolling through your phone until the teams walked out of the tunnel. Everyone was screaming and cheering, but you could be heard over every single person.

“My girl’s lookin’ sexy with that armband!”

She saw Katie throw her head back, laughing loudly, giving you a flying kiss, which you ‘caught’ and put it in your (Katie’s) jacket pocket.

After the game, Katie came straight to where you were and you give her all your love.

“Would it be possible to get a picture with you?” Casey asked, shyly.

“Of course. Kate, get in here.”

After the picture, you pull Katie close to whisper something in her ear. Couple second later, she comes back with Alessia by her side.

“Hey, Lessi.”

“So good to see you.”

“This is Casey. A big fan of yours.”

“Well, hello Casey. How are you?”

Casey tries not to freak out. Here she was, talking to her favorite footballer, all thanks to you.

“Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you for being great company.”

“Can I hug you?”

“Of course. Come here.”

Casey watched you, Katie, and Alessia leave. She freaks out with her friends, squealing, laughing, and jumping.

The best day of her life.

———

“Guys. I just got back home from the Arsenal game and it was the best experience of my life. I sat next to Y/N Y/LN and let me just say, she is the nicest person ever. I don’t care what you all have to say, she’s become one of my favorite people.

I freaked out when she sat next to me. Katie came over to give her her jacket cause it was freezing. The whole game, she was fangirling over Katie and it was the cutest thing ever.

After the game, still so cute, but earlier I told her that Alessia was my favorite, and she asked Katie to bring her over, so I got a picture with them all and Alessia signed my jersey!”

comments

user that’s so sweet

user ugh so lucky

yourinstagram thank you for being such great company! hope to see you again soon!

↳ katie_mccabe11 sorry you had to deal with her the whole game

↳ yourinstagram sleeping on the couch

↳ user ohh katie’s in the doghouse tonight

alessiarusso99 so good to meet you!

↳ caseyinstagram im freaking out! lovely meeting you!

user she’s not even all that. katie could do so much better

↳ yourinstagram that “follow back” really says something - katie

↳ yourinstagram katie!

↳ alessiarusso99 the mums are fighting @/leahwilliamsonn

↳ leahwilliamsonn i’m on y/n’s side

↳ katie_mccabe11 oi! i’m your teammate!

↳ caseyinstagram not you guys fighting in my comments

[nr1chaedickrider]

im gonna pay for yalls therapy!!! and maybe for mine too bc why am i suddenly almost only writing angst..

You hated how she was so popular. Everyone has a crush on her. No wonder she is called the girlcrush of your college.

You just wish that you dont have a crush on her.

Its like those typical stories. They are best friends, one likes the other one but the other one doesnt love her back. But it is different. She doesnt have a girlfriend or something.

She just isnt attracted to girls.

Two years ago you fell in love with her, and since then you couldnt stop yourself and fall in love with some else.

Its like she has you in a tight grip, not letting go.

You are afraid to ruin everything. What happens if you confess?

You overthink, since two years you're always thinking about tzuyu.

You're on your way to the Han river, its dark outside. You and her are supposed to meet there.

Should you confess?

"Heyyy!!!!" Tzuyu almost screams when she saw you, hugging you.

"Hey" you say, smiling at her as you both sit down on the grass, enjoying the view.

The weather is cold. Its refreshing. You love the cold weather, tzuyu hates it. Thats why you brought an extra jacket.

But she doesnt need to know that.

Its silent. You both enjoy the silence more than other people do.

"You know how you always said that i can talk to you about everything?" you break the silence.

"Yes of course, you can always tell me if something is up" she says, smiling at you and then looking back at the water.

"Ive kept this a secret since two years tzu" you say, chuckling lightly. Its ridiculous.

"Why? I told you, you can always talk to me, i dont want us to keep secrets from eachother. youre my best friend after all" she says, looking at you with a smile.

Right. She is your best friend after all.

You sigh.

"I have feelings for you since two years tzuyu"

You finally told her.

"you what?" she looks at you in shock.

"I love you, since two years. i just-... i couldnt keep it inside of me forever." you say, looking back to the river. Your throat burns because of you holding your tears back.

She is silent. Even too silent for her.

"You know i dont-"

"dont like women, i know" you finish her sentence. Swallowing your tears down.

"Im sorry tzuyu" you say. A tear leaving your eye even though you tried so hard not to cry.

She looks at you with an apologetic look on her face. Trembling because of the cold weather.

You stand up, putting the jacket over her shoulders.

"Dont worry, i will try to lose the feelings i have for you" you say, smiling while some tears flow down your cheeks. Turning around and leaving.

She looks after you, gripping your jacket as she watches you leave.

She looks down at the Letter she had prepared just for you.

[ilylovelyz]

lay your love with me

pair : sanemi x fem!reader

warning (s) : illness, gloomy weather, kinda angsty, kissing, mentions of nudity, threats of violence, mention of death

rain softly pattered onto the wood of the butterfly mansion. it was gloomy outside again. not that you weren't used to it, especially around your birthday. if anything, "gloomy" days were pleasing for you. the natural smell of the earth was always stronger during then, and the rainbows and bright sun that occurred after was always the best feeling.

you were laying on your back on a futon, all warmed up in your thick blanket. it was currently just you in the room, just you looking out into the garden and listening to the soft sounds of the rain. the rag on your forehead had gone cold some time ago, you wanted to warm it up again, but you were to weak to even sit up.

you sighed softly. "if only sanemi is here," you thought. you stared off into the distance, but couldn't focus for long before you nearly choked on your own spit.

"if only sanemi was here, you just thought, huh?" you heard a familiar voice say. you turned your attention towards the doorway of your room, standing there was your beloved sanemi with a frown, holding another bucket full of steaming water and a fresh rag.

you smiled at his words. "you always know what i'm thinkin'," you said, grateful for his presence. "'n i always know what you want." he replied, kneeling down at your side to sit on his knees, setting down the bucket a few feet from your head.

he scrunched his nose in feigned disgust, pinching the tip with his index and thumb finger, "when was the last time you bathed, you stink." he teased. of course he wasn't actually trying to make fun of you, he was actually proding to know if these bastards were actually taking care of you.

you sighed again, a wave of heat flashing over you when he replaced the old rag with a new one. noticing your discomfort, he gently pulled away those annoying run-away strands of hair that were sticking to your cheeks and forehead. he was the one sighing this time. seeing you in discomfort wasn't necessarily a fun sight.

you had gotten sick a few weeks ago. what was a cold, turned into a flu, then a fever, and then back into the flu, and now into some sort of illness that hasn't gone away. you've been bed ridden since, and it just makes him wish that he had some ability to make you healthy and happy again.

you brought him out of his tunneling thoughts of self loathing and blame when you finally answered his question, "they bathed me yesterday night." he cringed at your words. it was now the evening! "i'll have a lil' talk with those nerds later," he said.

you let out a soft giggle at his words, knowing that he was secretly peeved at them not taking care of his precious lover. "nemi, if you beat them up, they'll probably not let you return again," you whined, weakly gripping his calloused hands with your own.

he took notice of your weak grip. you've gotten even more weaker. he can't help but worry if you're even going to make it to the next spring. he shook his head at that, trying desperately to think of something else. no, you're gonna make it to next spring. he promised you to walk you in the garden everyday by next spring, so you two could watch the flowers bloom day-by-day.

he gripped your smaller hands with his in return, bringing one of your hands up to his lips, placing a soft gentle kiss on the back of your hand. a little soft reminder that no matter what happens, he's yours. the grip he has on your hands is nothing but gentle and loving, another little reminder that even has a strong hashira, he's still afraid of the little things. things like losing you.

"i love you 'nemi," you whispered, watching his eyes widen as you weakly sat up for the first time in a while. he sat still for a second in shock as you brought down your hand from his lips to replace it with your own.

with love and care, he brought his hands to your shoulders, softly leaning you back to your previous position while his lips still softly moved with yours in a gentle dance. pulling away from you when your back met the futon, he kissed your forehead before completely pulling away to sit straight up.

"get undressed won't you? i'll bathe you myself." he said. you blushed and squealed at his plan, "but you'll see me naked!" he looked at you with confusion, "i've seen you naked like hundreds of times."

you sighed with a smile, this idiot. "i'm your idiot, though. this idiot loves you." he cheekily grinned.

[im-a-marvel-ous-hoe]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside | Bucky Barnes (8th Day of 🎄)

(Credits to the owner of this pic!)

Here’s a brand new story for y’all! I hope you enjoy! 🩵

Christmas Masterlist <- check out my other holiday fics!

~~~~

“Do you think it’ll let up soon?”

I stood next to the window, holding a blanket against my body as I watched what was supposed to be light flurries turn into fat snow hitting the pavement. Soon all I could see were pure white lines, the wind outside making the snow zoom at an angle. I felt Bucky’s presence behind me, his body heat almost making me want to turn around and let him keep me warm.

“It’s uh.. lookin’ pretty bad out there, isn’t it?”

I nodded and sighed. “I should probably leave before it gets even worse..”

It was supposed to be a brief visit. I came over to his place to see him and drop off his favorite hoodie that he let me borrow a little while back.. but then he asked me if I wanted to grab a cup of hot chocolate and I couldn’t say no. That hot cocoa led to us watching a couple movies while snacking on whatever junk food he had. Before we knew it, the sun went down and the snow caved me inside Bucky’s apartment.

“You want to leave in that?” He asked while opening up his blinds even more to showcase how bad it’s getting outside. “You can’t even see the pathway to walk to your car. How are you gonna drive?”

“I’m a big girl, I’m sure I can figure it out. It’s just snow.” I walked over to his couch and slid off the blanket, shivering as soon as the air hit my skin. It’s been really nice and warm since I’ve been here and the thought of having to go out in the cold made me wish I had paid better attention to the weather outside. I folded up the blanket nice and neat and laid it on the cushion.

I wanted to prolong me leaving for as much as I could, but I knew I probably overstayed my welcome three hours ago and he might want some time to be alone. I know I would if a guest came over unexpectedly and couldn’t get the hint I wanted them gone.

He slowly stalked closer to me, his head bowed down and I turned to look at him. “Y/N, you’d freeze out there. The snow is piling up by the minute, I’m sure you’d get pneumonia and I wouldn’t be able to – ”

I lifted my hand up to his face and placed a single finger on his lips to silence him. “Nat and Wanda are probably wondering where I am. We were supposed to have a girls night and I’m like twenty minutes away from the apartment.”

He stayed silent for a moment, his body still and his cheeks were blushed. The initial shock of me shutting him up started to wear off as he sighed. He reached up and grabbed my hand in his and he inspected my fingers. I could feel his breath against me as he placed a soft quick kiss on the top of my knuckles. I instantly felt get warmer.

“Doll, your hands are cold.”

My knees wanted to buckle right then and there. I felt like I shouldn't say anything, this moment seemed too intimate and I didn’t want to break out of this bubble. Something about the way his gaze stayed concentrated on my cold fingers made my heart flutter. I longed to feel his lips against them again.. or other places.

“Maybe you just run hot.. I’m not calling you hot, it's just you’re so warm.. I – I mean, not to say that you’re not hot. You’re very easy on the eyes and..”

Oh God, what the fuck am I doing?!

“What I mean to say is – ” He laughed and brought our hands to rest on each of our sides, him refusing to let go and said, “Need me to change the subject?”

“Yes please.”

My stupid mouth just had to make a comment.

He noticed a strand of my hair seeming out of place from my messy ponytail and he reached his hand up to move it out of my flustered face and place it behind my ears.

This man is makin’ me melt like a popsicle on the fourth of July. I felt like I was warm enough to even brace the snow storm outside and walk it back home.

“You know, I.. I actually have an extra room that you could stay in, if you wanted..” I parted my mouth open in surprise as he continued. “I could let you borrow a couple of my clothes to sleep in so you’re comfortable.”

I smiled and slowly shook my head. “That’s very kind of you, Buck, but I can’t impose on you like that.”

“Trust me, it’s no bother to me at all. We could have a night dedicated to just us and watch movies until the sun came up if we wanted to.” I tilted my head and felt warmth spread across my face.

I didn’t want to feel like Bucky had to offer up a room to me because he felt bad, but I really didn’t want to drive back in this storm and freeze the whole way there. I bet if I was to even call a cab, which I probably wouldn’t because I have a working car, they would go out of their way to pick me up. Plus, I don’t really want to spend money on gas anyway.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you. It’s bad out there and I know if you’re with me, you’ll at least be safe. I don’t have to go to bed wondering if you made it home when there’s a perfectly open space for you here.”

I stood there, debating back and forth and back and forth in my mind as I tried to think of what’s the best option…

“What do you think your neighbors will think when they wake up and see that my car is still parked outside?”

“I hope they’re smart enough to know that I couldn’t let someone as pretty as you leave in a snow storm.” I tried to brush over the fact that he called me pretty and hoped that my face didn’t give away the fact that I liked it.

“And if they’re not smart enough?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“At least there will be plenty implied.” He chuckled. “But honestly, I couldn’t give two shits about what they think of who stays at my place. It’s my place.” He smiled. “C’mon, doll.. it can be just for tonight, if you wanted to.”

I glanced back at the blanket on the couch I folded neatly earlier and wished I was cuddled up against it again. Our cups of hot chocolate still remained on top of his coffee table, both completely empty next to crumbs left from pastries and plates with half eaten food. The movie on his TV paused and I realized he was still waiting for an answer.

“... Shall we heat up some more hot chocolate then?” His smile widened at my decision as I continued. “It’s gonna be a long night, Buck and it looks like we’re stuck together until further notice.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather be snowed in with.”

“After all, it is cold outside and you’re a literal heater. It was getting harder and harder to say ‘no’ to that.”

“If that’s what got you to stay, then I guess I can’t be too upset. It gives me a reason to cuddle up to you and keep you safe. I’d say this is a win – win, if you ask me.”

~~~~

I hope y’all liked it! Please let me know your thoughts! Likes, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

[azures-bazar]

Oi there ! I love your RDR2 one shots (mostly the ones where Arthur's being soft af) !!

Could you make one of Arthur being sick and being taken care of by female!reader ??

Thanks in advance, love your work !

High Fever

Hello there anon, thank you for your request !

First of, I'm sorry it took me more than two weeks :') My job is taking most of my free-time as I kinda overwork (yep). Keeping the job I've got at the moment is a real battle, so writing takes much more time than I expected.

Anyway, I hope you'll still like this one-shot. I'm sorry for the mistakes, it's badly written due to the lack of free time I've got :')

Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader 

Word count : 3.8k 

Short summary : Arthur came back to camp overwhelmingly sick, and you are not leaving him alone !

A/Note : Arthur’s tent has flaps and he’s sharing it with reader ! 

Tags : Arthur is sick, some fluff (as always), soft, taking care of someone ill, chapter 3, summer breeze, small whump aftercare (somehow), flu, vastly inspired by IRL

The sun was shining brightly, the morning weather was already quite warm. It was not a surprise, you had been warned about Lemoyne’s overall hot summer weather, but the climate was very different from the one you used to enjoy while the gang was hiding in the Heartlands. You still loved this weather, especially when you had some time to look at the scenery which was surrounding you. Beautiful tall trees, a lake which appeared to be endless, some islands ahead of you… something about Clemens Point felt magical, if not even a little safe. Who would have guessed the Van der Linde gang was hiding here ? 

What made you feel even more safe was the tent you were sharing with Arthur, for a variety of reasons. You had been brought in the gang by Dutch after escaping the law following a minor bank robbery you had performed alone, somewhere back in 1893. Since the very first day you had spent with the rest of the gang, Arthur had displayed a lot of interest in being around you, from helping you to use a bow to spending time drawing by your side. Your rather friendly relationship slowly turned into a very awkward romance when Arthur gifted you with a large bouquet of wild flowers, dropping a kiss on your lips while watching the sunset from a hill. 

"I… I think I really like you." this single sentence he had told you made you go on an incredible journey of two outlaws being in love 

As of 1899, you and Arthur had been sharing his tent for about a year. You could easily remember him holding your hand while asking Dutch to move your cot to his quarters. Indeed, you had slept in Arthur’s tent on a variety of occasions : on rainy nights, when the weather was too cold, when someone of you was drunk, and, of course, when you wanted to have some fun. It had taken two days for Dutch to finally accept Arthur’s request, knowing that some of your nights would obviously not be as quiet as his… and god knows how right he was !  

You rarely slept on your cot, mostly resting into Arthur’s embrace, getting up with the morning light and birds chirping around you. However, that day, instead of peacefully waking up with the light from the outside passing between your tent’s flaps, Arthur’s continuous sneezes and soft coughs had dragged you out of your well-deserved rest. Being on guard duty all day long doing mostly nothing was boring… and somewhat tiring. You had chosen to sleep on your cot that night as you went to rest earlier than the rest of the gang. 

"Ugh…" you sighed, shifting from your cot 

You stretched and made your way to Arthur’s bed, triggered by the sound of his sneezes. You could remember him coming back one day ago from a journey to Ambarino which had lasted for two days. Since Arthur came back, you could easily hear him cough quite often, at any time of the day. The sneezing had started to occur last night, much to your biggest dismay as you just wished to get some sleep. 

"Arthur ?" you whispered 

Arthur’s eyes cracked open as he noticed you were standing nearby. He greeted you with a sweet smile, which caused you to put your frustration aside, melting from the inside as you placed your hand on his forehead. Thankfully enough, Morgan was not feverish. At least… not yet. 

"Did I wake you up ?" Arthur asked, a little confused 

"You’re sick." you sighed 

"No, I ain’t." 

You shook your head, asking Arthur to stand up to prove he was in good shape. He even proceeded putting his clothes on for you not to worry about him, causing you to smirk a little. Whenever you were sick, Arthur was always the one taking care of you. And, right at this moment, as he was getting sick himself, he proudly hid his illness behind his usual smile and rough voice. 

"See ? I’m fine." he said, leaving the tent

Arthur quickly headed out to chop some wood while you looked at him with a rather concerned expression. As far as you could recall, whenever Arthur was sick, there were at least two phases. The ‘No I’m fine’ phase, which was the one he usually displayed whenever he was starting to feel a little sick. He would still keep doing chores, going hunting and not even care about his health, overworking himself to please Dutch anytime he needed. 

The second one was the ‘I’m dying’ phase, which, as its name suggested, was triggered whenever Arthur felt horribly sick. During this phase, Arthur usually behaved like a man on his deathbed, begging for the mercy of whatever was above, crying like a child until the symptoms would slowly fade away. Indeed, you did not want Arthur to get to this phase because not only it was a pitiful sight for such man, but also because you already had some hard time acting serious when he was behaving like a young boy. 

For a few hours, you watched Arthur take care of some chores while minding your own business, up until Morgan stopped walking around and started coughing heavily. You watched him cough, nearly falling on his knees as you quickly carried a sack of grain to Pearson’s wagon. You quickly walked towards Arthur, who was slowly trying to breathe normally. 

"You okay ?" you asked

"I’m fine." Arthur answered in a rather weak way

"No you ain’t."

You moved closer to Arthur, raising your hand to touch his forehead, causing him to chuckle. Of course, Morgan was a tough man who did not need anyone’s help, and seeing you wanting to take care of him made him feel very amused by the situation. Yes, he was sick… and there was no need to hide it from you. 

"My god, your forehead is burning !" you gasped. "Get back to your tent !"

"Y/N, m’fine…-"

"To your tent, right now !" 

Arthur noticed how persuasive you were, causing him to chuckle, raising his hands in the air as you pushed him towards his tent, quickly informing both Dutch and Hosea, who were having a talk nearby, that their boy was sick was would not do anything today. They both knew Arthur was doing most of the work around camp, he definitely deserved some rest ! Especially being this sick ! 

"Oh, I’ll go make a Ginseng tonic !" Hosea said, quickly heading to his tent

"Are you sure you can handle this grumpy giant cowboy alone, dear Y/N ?" Dutch asked you, glancing at Arthur who was sitting on his cot grumbling something while crossing his arms and legs

"Don’t worry, Dutch." you smiled. "I’ll take care of your son !"

Dutch chuckled, watching you get to your tent before closing its flaps. The single view of Arthur, nearly pouting on his cot, his arms crossed on his chest and his feet drawing circles on the ground made you smile. What a funny sight it was to witness such a brawny man and well known cowboy with a bounty on his head behaving like a grumpy child who was refusing to get some rest ! 

"Take ‘em boots off, Morgan." you said 

"Y/N, I ain’t gonna stay in my tent all day long, the others need me." 

"You’re staying here. The others can take care of some chores for a day, you’re staying in this tent." 

"But I…-"

"I said you’re staying in this tent. Now take your boots and pants off." 

Arthur grumbled and obliged, calmly removing his boots. He loved taking care of you, he absolutely enjoyed having you rest into his embrace, comfort you after some nightmares you had, watch over you whenever you were feeling sick… but was not used being taken care of. He was a grown man who did not even need anyone’s help. Having such a beautiful lady like you watching over him made him feel both awkward and incredibly good, even if he was to proud to say it. He proceeded removing his gun belt and satchel while staring at you with a defiant smile. 

"Wanna see me naked, sweetheart ?" he smirked

"No, just take your pants off." 

You helped Arthur removing his suspenders and pants, leaving him in his union suit. You carefully passing your hands on his shoulders, wiping away some dirt while pushing him on his cot. He did not even dare showing any signs of resistance, laying down his bed with a sigh as his head rested on a pillow which was once yours. 

"M’fine, Y/N, I swear." he sighed 

"You ain’t a good liar with me. I’ll go get some blankets." 

"This is humiliatin’…" 

Arthur’s words made you shiver, causing you to sit beside him. How could he believe being sick was humiliating when probably every single human being could catch a cold ? You placed your hand on his burning head, letting out a soft sigh before looking into his green orbs. 

"It ain’t. You’re sick, and it happens. You’re spending so much time trying to do chores, doing hunting, doing bounties, robbing places… just for us to survive. Now, allow yourself to rest for a bit. You deserve it." 

"But the others…-" 

"The others will be just fine. Close your eyes and get some rest. I’ll come back to check on you." 

Despite not agreeing with you, Arthur closed his eyes as you gently covered him with one of his blankets. You looked at his grumpy face with a little smirk, listening to him grumbling a few words in his three-days beard before leaving the tent to do some chores around camp. What a literal child Arthur was to act like this ! You often wondered how Hosea, Dutch and Ms. Grimshaw had managed to take care of him back when he was a young boy, especially knowing that Arthur’s behaviour once used to be similar to Sean’s. 

You came back to check on Arthur after taking care of some chores, being given Hosea’s tonic. His eyes cracked open as soon as you walked back inside the tent. He rose on his elbows, getting you with one of his absolutely amazing smiles. You would have killed for this smile, definitely. They were so genuine and worth it… and Arthur was the most handsome man you knew ! 

"Did you get some sleep ?" you smiled 

"No." Arthur shook his head. "I ain’t gonna sleep in the middle of the day like that. I ain’t lil' Jack to take naps. "

"Arthur… You take care of me when I’m sick, lemme do the same for you. I brought you Hosea’s tonic." 

You walked closer to Arthur’s cot and sat next to him, pouring a very strange coloured liquid into his tint cup. Hosea had told you about its ingredients, but you did not expect such a yellowish tone… and awful smell. At first sight, it really looked like some snake oil, and the terrible scent coming from it did not help at all. 

"I ain’t drinkin’ that." Arthur chuckled. "It smells like cat piss."

"Arthur, please." you smiled back 

"Ugh… fine." 

Arthur swallowed the tonic in one go, coughing as he quite disliked its taste, nearly throwing up as he felt this strange liquid go down his throat. He knew that taste and that smell, it wasn’t the first time Hosea was making him a tonic. He had spent a vast majority of his teenage years drinking a variety of them, getting sick quite often. He could remember most of them, but the Ginseng tonic was probably the one he had drank the most throughout his time in the gang. 

"My god, it tastes terrible !" Arthur gagged 

"Yep, but Hosea says it’s the best for you !" 

According to Hosea, this tonic would put Arthur back on his feet in no time. You trusted Matthews’ expertise, having watched him carefully mix the Ginseng’s petals with some water and some gold berries you had brought him a day earlier. Just like Arthur, you also had the opportunity to drink some of these tonics throughout your life with the gang… enough for you to feel a vast amount of compassion as you watched Arthur struggle with his drink. 

"Now get some rest, Arthur." you smiled. "I’ll be back in a few hours, I just need to help Pearson cook the stew and finishing sewing my dress." 

Arthur did not respond, only watching you going out of the tent, sighing as he closed his eyes once more. He could not escape ! Arthur started dozing off after a few seconds, listening to Dutch and Molly arguing nearby his tent, to Sean’s terrible jokes by the crate of whiskey, and to an attempt of Bill to bond with Kieran over a bottle of beer. Something made him feel relaxed, the way you took care of him made him feel relaxed. He secretly adored it, despite not mentioning it. 

You came back a few hours later, as promised, having sent Dutch, Hosea and Tilly to look for Arthur every thirty minutes or so to make sure he was still fine. As you came back inside the tent, you found Arthur groaning, sweating so heavily that your heart nearly stopped at the sight of this poor man in such pain. 

"Oh my god, Arthur… how do you feel ? What hurts ?" 

You helped Arthur up, softly taking off his sweat-soaked union suit. You wanted to make it quick, and Arthur’s wobbly arms did not help at all. He groaned a little when you tried taking his arms out of his shirt, feeling an intense pain coming from the back of his head. You managed to take out some old cloth and plunged it into a bucket of cold water to wipe away some of Arthur’s sweat. 

"Head hurts…" he groaned 

"I know, sweetheart. I’ll just clean you up a little and you’ll lie down." 

"Sweetheart". You called him sweetheart, a word you never used to qualify him… Arthur was quick to give you some nicknames, from variations of your own name to pet names you adored. Your heart stopped beating for a second as you awaited Arthur’s response, being greeted with his sweet smile and painful sight, slowly passing the cloth on his shoulders.

"Lemme do this m’self, dove…" 

"Arthur, it’s not…-"

Arthur tried getting the wet cloth from your hands but ended up loosing balance. You quickly caught him before he would hit the ground, sighing as he whined, burying his head in the crook of your neck while his arms remained wobbly. How humiliating it was for him to be at your whole mercy ! Such a tough outlaw, skilled gunslinger… barely able to move his arms without whining like a sick child ! He was not fully himself, but somewhat happy to be taken care of.

"M’sorry…" he whispered. "I hate being like that…"

"It’s okay. Stay still for me, alright ?" 

"Sure…"

You were worried about Arthur’s health, but somewhat amused by what you were seeing at the moment. What a child… you knew that all men from the gang, no matter how tough they were, often behaved as if they were on their deathbeds whenever they were sick. A simple headache had led Bill to pretend he was dying, Dutch had once remained in his bed for three days because of a nasal congestion. You knew that Arthur was just a little sick at this moment, believing he was about to die too. 

"There you go." you said, passing the wet cloth over Arthur’s torso. "Let’s put on a new union suit." 

"I’m dying…" 

"No, you ain’t." 

Arthur used the last bits of energy he had to shrug. You quickly lifted his heavy legs up to get the bottom of his union suit off, not even bothering about him being naked. You had seen him undressed quite often, this wasn’t much of a discovery ! You wanted him dressed into something, that poor man was sick ! You carefully slipped a red union suit on him, buttoning it while Arthur looked at you. His eyes were half-closed, a soft smile was blooming on his face. You could easily tell he was not fully himself, just by the look he was giving you. 

"Are you hungry ?" you asked him, taking his face between your hands 

"I’d eat you raw, honeybee…" Arthur responded, his eyes twitching. "Maybe with some cranberry sauce, along with potatoes…" 

"Well… seems like you ain’t. Lay down." 

Arthur’s words made you blush, but his health was far too much important at the moment. He laid down, moaning as soon as his head touched his pillow. As you were on your way out of his tent to get him some stew, Arthur whined, causing you to shiver and turn back. He was looking at you, giving you a sick puppy glance, summoning enough energy to spread his arms wide for you to embrace him. 

"Don’ go…" he whimpered 

"Oh, Arthur…" 

You slowly walked back to his cot, your heart was fluttering as you could not even resist these puppy eyes. Arthur, even being so sick and probably a little needy, was still the charming man you adored. The most handsome man you had ever met, the sweetest gentleman gifting you with flowers, gems, antique alcohol bottles… who would have thought such an angelic-looking man was an outlaw and had blood on his hands ?

"Feeling needy, huh ?" you smiled, passing your hand through his sweaty hair 

"I’m gonna die…" Arthur whined. "Don’ leave me… I’m so sick…"

"I’ll be right back, sweetheart. I’ll come back with another tonic, wait for me." 

Arthur whined as he nuzzled his head into his pillow, allowing you to grab one of his blankets and cover him up to the shoulders. You passed your hand through his dirty blonde hair, causing him to smile a little before watching you leaving the tent. You nearly felt bad for leaving him ! You grabbed a bowl of stew and quickly ate it as Hosea gave you another of his tonics. 

"He must drink it before midnight, it will help him rest." Matthews told you as he gave you the bottle

"Alright. I’ll make sure of it." 

Hosea smiled and patted your shoulder before heading towards his bed made of a variety of different blankets, kissing the picture he had of his wife, laying down while keeping his eyes open for a moment. He watched you walk towards your tent, absolutely delighted to know his boy was having you around him. What a treasure you were for the gang, indeed ! So sweet, adorable and caring ! You headed back to your tent with Hosea’s tonic and were met with a rather pleasant sight.

"Oh." you smiled 

Arthur was asleep laying on his left side, facing the sunset. You slowly walked in to get a better glimpse of him, not even wanting to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, so sweet ! Who would have thought this good-looking man, having beautiful green orbs hidden under his eyelids and long eyelashes which could trigger anyone’s jealousy, had blood on his hands ? At first sight, nobody could have guessed Arthur was an outlaw rather than being just a really handsome man. What a shame that the only one not accepting his beauty was himself… 

While you were away from your tent, Arthur had battled to keep himself awake. He had pushed his pillow on the ground, not finding it comfortable enough, dragging the blanket over his body, then kicking it away, then dragging it back again. He was sleeping so peacefully that you did not even want to move the blanket a little over him. You smiled as you calmly sat by him, checking his temperature by kissing his forehead. 

"The fever’s gone…" you whispered

"Y/N ?…" Arthur mumbled

"No, no, sweetheart… go back to sleep…"

The soft sound of Arthur’s whine could be heard as his eyes cracked open. You expected to be met with a rather grumpy sight for interrupting his sleep but, as soon as his vision got clear enough to see what was around, Morgan smiled to you. Your sole presence had triggered a sudden happiness as he calmly took your hand and held it close to his chest. He liked it, he liked the way you took care of him. It felt good to have such an angel like you around, stitching up his wounds, giving him medicine, watching over him as he slept… he felt safe. 

You were melting, you felt butterflies fly in your belly as you kept analysing Arthur’s beautiful features and lovely smile. His usually green eyes had turned blue to the tears of pain he might have shed earlier, and due to this flu he had caught. What a handsome man he was ! Even with his high fever, dark rings under his eyes, sweaty hair… you could have given anything to prove him how handsome he was. Anything. Taking care of him while he was sick was giving you the perfect opportunity to enjoy his presence a little more, to admire this talented gunslinger and very skilled artist, whose large hands always came up with amazing and refined drawings. 

"Was dreamin’ of you…" he whispered 

"Oh ?" you smiled, gently caressing his hair. "What was I doing ?" 

"You’re wearin’ a white dress and a flower crown… and you’re singin’… that you loved me and all…" 

"Oh, did you like it ?" 

"Of course, ‘cause I love you…" 

This vast amount of butterflies could not stop flying in your belly, just this single sentence made your heart flutter. Arthur never truly voiced all his love for you, but being so tired and ill… his ‘introvert-filter’ was quick to disappear, as well as his overall grumpy behaviour. Arthur slowly rolled aside, patting his cot for you to lay down next to him. And, with such an adorable puppy glance, how could you refuse ? 

"Wait up, Arthur." you smiled. "Lemme just get my clothes off." 

It took you just a few seconds to take your shirt and skirt off, quickly laying next to Arthur who nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist while letting out a long and very relaxed moan. You chuckled as you felt his beard tickle you clavicles, his heavy breath getting slower and slower as he slowly dozed off in your embrace. 

"I love you too, silly man." you smiled, kissing his forehead  

Arthur moaned in return, making you smile as his grip on your waist tightened, passing your hands in his hair, caressing his skin, dropping a few subtle kisses on his forehead. What a man you had here, what a peculiar feller ! A literal bear whenever he was doing fine, but a young child whenever he was sick. You did not mind, you loved him for what he was, you loved him entirely. And you would nurse him back to health, whatever the price was. You did not care about getting sick yourself, Arthur’s recovery mattered the most at the moment. 

Nothing else mattered. 

[stevesbipanic]

Steve hates the rain. Rain meant he was stuck inside since god forbid his ironed clothes got dirty spoiling the perfect image of a perfect son for his parents. Rain meant cloudy skies and sad days. Rain meant looking through the two comics he had or watching whatever was on TV as long as it wasn't too loud if his dad was home. Rain meant cleaning the house until it was spotless just to give his parents one less thing to criticise.

Steve wished he could go outside in the rain, he didn't even have gumboots. He saw a neighbourhood dog jump around in the rain once, the dog looked more free than Steve had ever felt. Now that he was older rain was still a nuisance, still too scared to ruin his clothes in case someone called his mother about it. At least rain meant the kids needed to be picked up from school so he'd see them more.

Eddie loved the rain. You'd think he'd hate it, it was raining the day the social worker brought him to his Uncle, the weather matching the mood. But Eddie had never felt happier that day, he no longer had to worry about his dad and he could see his Uncle all the time. The rain set Eddie free.

For a kid with not a lot to his name, the rain was free entertainment. His uncle had bought him some gumboots and the next rainy day Eddie had rushed outside like it was the first snow of the winter and spent hours splashing in puddles. Eddie never minded that the rain would make his hair frizzy or that it was sometimes cold or that he would get muddy. The rain filled him with joy.

Steve had been pacing his room for what felt like hours but had only been about one. Eddie had kissed him, actually kissed him and Steve had just frozen up. He was in love with Eddie and he'd been given an opportunity and fucked it up. Steve didn't need to pace any longer he made up his mind, he grabbed his keys and ran outside.

The drizzle that had started in the morning had become a full on downpour by the time Steve reached Eddie's trailer, but Steve didn't care. He banged on the door and Eddie came out trying to look indifferent to Steve's presence.

"I'm sorry I froze up, Eds, I'm sorry I didn't say something. I've loved you for months Eddie and I never thought you'd like me back so when you kissed me I didn't know what to do." The word vomit had spilled out of Steve before Eddie had a chance to tell him to leave.

"Stevie, of course I like you back, I love you, you're, you're you."

"Can I have a do-over?"

Eddie closed the distance between them and pressed their lips together once more. Steve didn't care that his shoes were getting muddy, he didn't care that his hair was frizzy, he didn't care that his clothes were soaked and that it was cold. Steve didn't care because he'd never felt warner than kissing Eddie, Steve felt free.

Finally, Steve loved the rain too.

[mercurygray]

Merc, could I get "enchanting" for either Marjorie Gordon/Gale Cleven, or Joan Warren/Gale Cleven? Thanks!

Kat, I am really math-ladying memeing over the thought of Joan and Gale being an Item, but Gale and Marj (my Marj, sorry actual Marge) is catnip.

So here it is. Assume, for the purposes of debate, that Marj and Joan and everyone else decided joining the Air Force was more exciting than joining the Airborne

He wished she could be outside.

The weather was fine, for December - one of those bright, cold blue days where there was clear visibility for miles and every single pilot in the camp was itching to get his hands back into the yoke of his plane. The camp was almost bearable, on those days where you wouldn't want to be up in the soup - but on days like this? Being ground-bound was agony.

Gale glanced back up at the sky, half-wishing for a wisp of cloud - or the glimpse of a plane. Not that he'd ever get one - at the first sound of engine noise the guards would give the order to have everyone out of the yards and back inside the barracks, fearful that whatever they saw overhead would give away more news of the war.

But for some, even the scant pleasures of the winter sunlight were far away.

Gale ducked back inside the room he shared with the others, making his way carefully around the table with his hands in his coat pockets so he could pull up a chair next to one of the bunks, and the woman lying there reading a book.

She looked up at the scrape of his boots in the door. "Hey you. What happened to enjoying the sunshine?"

"Was coming to see my best girl," Gale said with a brief smile, lowering himself down onto the nearest crate. "How's the leg?"

Marj shifted a little in the narrow bunk, her breathing hitching a little. The bunks here weren't made for tall men or women, and Bucky and Marj both found it challenging to keep themselves where they were allotted - especially with Marj's leg still in its cast. She'd broken it on her jump, and letting it sit and fester for nearly a week certainly hadn't helped matters. She'd arrived at Stalug Luft III on a stretcher and in the throes of a fever that should have killed her, and the doctor had only just recently let her out of the infirmary and back into the general compound. "Still hurts. They tell me it's set fine, and now it's just a matter of letting it heal." She tried to smile. "You'll have to tell Bucky I don't think I'm gonna be able to pitch the next game."

"He'll understand."

"Or you'll make him?" Marj suggested with a wry smile. "I know how you work, Gale Cleven."

She knows me too well, he thought to himself. "If anyone catches him complaining about it, John'll have me to answer to," Gale promised. "You're too important to lose, Marj Gordon." Too important to me, he almost said, words to put paid to the thing they didn't say aloud, the thing that had no name. What kind of man lets a woman do his fighting? All the papers at home were filled with talk like that. The kind who trusts her to win just as well as he can, he always wanted to say. But it was one thing to win, and another to take on a green co-pilot because good pilots were spread thin, and lose your fort in a flak field, and bail out over Germany, and break your leg, and end up in a camp. He should have fought harder to keep her in his plane. Maybe if he'd done that she wouldn't have -

He sniffled, trying to hide whatever blush might have come out in his cheek and pulled something out of his pocket. "Here, brought you something," he said, holding out the can of Spam. "Traded some spare socks for it."

Marj set her book aside and took the can with reverent hands. Food was gold here, and it was a holy day indeed when you had a whole can of something to call your own. She looked up at him with conflicted eyes, the both of them knowing full well the can hadn't been traded for a single spare pair of socks. "Buck."

"Not going have that leg heal right on soup," he replied, refusing to rise to the accusation in her voice. "And we ought to find you a - a pair of crutches or something. Need to get you out, moving around again."

"You're not gonna offer me your arm?" Marj asked with only slight provocation.

Gale steeled himself, hating how much he loved the idea. Marjorie Gordon, if I do that they'll know I'm in love with you, he thought silently to himself. And I can't let them have that.

[questionableratatouille00]

ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ? (ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀɪɴ)

Pairing: Sambucky (Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes) 

Summary: How Bucky discovered that there is beauty in scary things.

Bingo Fill: ‘Free Space’ on my ‘Vacation’ card for @sambuckylibrary’s sambucky summer bingo!

Warnings: weather, anxiety, hurricane mention, storms, rain.

He had been in storms before. It rained in Brooklyn back in the forties. Heavy rain for long periods of time often meant having to take care of a sick Steve Rogers. It meant unease and worry, because sometimes even a small cold really seemed to put Steve’s body to the test.

But there was a hint of calm in storms. The constant sound of rain provided gentle background noise. Bucky liked to read by the window for this reason.

During the war, rain meant being wet and being in danger. Not a great mix. But it’s not like he remembered much of the trenches anyway, the most that came to him was torture and fear, and that only came through flashbacks.

HYDRA didn’t care what the weather was, if there was a mission he was going to complete it. He can’t remember much about his opinions on weather from that time. It doesn’t really matter, and he knows that, but he still wishes he had all his memories.

Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to bear that cross.

Nowadays he likes storms. Or rather, he doesn’t dislike them. He’s more neutral on the topic.

So he’s indifferent when the storm outside begins to pick up. It’s not a hurricane, he’s absolutely positive of that. But it is some rough weather. Not something you’d want to be driving in, especially because of the water so close by.

Bucky stood at the window, watching the rain. Sarah kept stressing about flooding as she made sure the boys didn’t have any online homework to do.

Sam chased her around the house, trying his best to reassure her that flooding wasn’t an issue. She didn’t seem to want to listen.

“It could be a hurricane.” She huffed, her brows furrowed. “Boys, are your bedroom windows closed?” She kept rushing around gathering bottles of water. The boys weren’t even in the living room.

“Sarah, it is not a hurricane. It’s just some rain.” Sam followed behind her as she passed him water bottles. “You’re stressing yourself out.”

“It could flood. I do not have the time to deal with water damage, Sam.” She stressed. “Boys!” She called again.

“And you won’t! It’s a small storm. It’ll be cleared up by tomorrow.” Sam said. Bucky checked his watch. It was 7:45 PM. They’d had dinner earlier, Bucky and Sam and Sam’s family.

Bucky felt bad for Sarah. She obviously had some kind of weather anxiety, something that Bucky understood. Rebecca had had it, back in the forties. Back in his childhood home.

Becca, when she was real little, maybe 4-7 years old, was absolutely terrified of thunderstorms. She hated the loud noises.

Whenever she’d be woken up by a bad dream brought up from the storm, she’d race into his room. He comfort her, hold her close to his chest until she’d stopped crying, and then he’d send her back to bed.

Those hugs worked for Becca. And they worked for Steve, too. Back in the forties, Steve would get anxious like that sometimes. Bucky couldn’t ever really tell if there was a common factor between those situations, but Steve would just cling on to Bucky. And Bucky would hold him close to his chest until Steve was feeling better.

Part of him wanted to offer that to Sarah, but how the hell do you say ‘hey, do you want me, a 106 year old ex-assassin, to hug you, a young and attractive woman, really tightly’?

The answer is: you don’t. Not really. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

Mustering all of his courage, he walked up behind her and wrapped her in his arms tightly, though he left space for her to get away.

She gasped and clutched at his arm for a moment before she relaxed in his arms.

“James Buchanan Barnes, what the hell are you doing?” She said after checking whether or not the boys were in the room.

And that reminded him of something. He remembered when he was a preteen boy, when his mother would say his full name when he was being ornery. She’d say Becca’s name like that, too. Rebecca Phoebe Barnes.

“It..helps.” He said vaguely, his brows furrowing in concern. “Right?”

She stood there, considering it for a moment, before nodding. “It does.” She admitted.

Bucky let go after a moment.

“Thank..you?” She seemed confused, but grateful. Bucky just smiled gently. “Worked for Steve and my sister, back in the ‘40s.”

Sam just stood there, and Bucky couldn’t tell if he was amused or concerned. Maybe a bit of both.

Once he let go, he walked back towards his boyfriend—saying that word felt odd—silently asking where he could be useful. 

Sam gestured with his head towards the small kitchen drawer where they Bucky knew they kept flashlights.

He went and grabbed them, all four. One hot pink, one bright blue, one silver, and one black. 

He held two in each hand as he glanced back up at the siblings.

“I think there’s some lantern-camping-lights—whatever they’re called—up in the attic. Can you two go grab them?” Sarah asked. 

Sam, humoring his sister, nods. “C’mon.” He pats Bucky’s back, leading him up the stairs and to his nephews’ room. 

Bucky follows him, standing in the room with Sam as Sam pulls open the door and pulls down the wooden stairs to the attic.

“I really don’t think that the power will go out, but she’s always had some nasty weather anxiety.” Sam murmured as he went up the wooden stairs. Bucky followed.

A loud boom of thunder made Sam flinch. Bucky was also startled, but not at the same level.

“Can’t say I’m a huge fan of loud noises in the sky, either.” Sam commented, unstacking some labeled plastic tubs.

Bucky nodded in sympathy, knowing what Sam was referring to. Riley.

“Can you check the camping bin?” Sam asked. Bucky nodded again, stepping around the dark attic.

“Sarah?” Sam calls, handing his sister one of the lanterns and three of the flashlights from Bucky’s hands.

In return, she hands him a small bag. Sam takes it, though it’s clear he thinks it’s pointless.

“AJ and Cass and I are gonna be in the storage room. Are you coming with me or camping out in the bathroom?” Sarah asked. Bucky looked at Sam.

“It’s fine. You go in there with the boys. Buck and I will be fine in the bathroom.” Sam decided, and Bucky nodded. Sarah seemed to be okay with this, considering the fact that she walked away. Sam led  Bucky to the downstairs bathroom, which had a tub-shower in it and everything, just like the upstairs bathroom. 

“She’s hella paranoid over storms. The storage room has no windows, so she always stays in there when the weather gets like this. It’s a small room, though. I doubt you wanted to be cramped up in a tiny room with no windows.” 

Bucky grimaces, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’m good on that.” 

They sit across from each other on the bathroom floor. 

“What’s in the bag?” Bucky asks after a moment.

“Water. Lots of water bottles. Some freeze dried snacks. Other snacks.” Sam begins to list as he opens the bag. “Batteries in a ziplock bag in case the flashlights or lanterns die. A walkie-talkie.” 

“She packs like she’s in the army.” Bucky notes, a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah. She’s always been the more planner one. Always thinking everything out instead of just doing it.” Sam murmurs, a grin on his lips. 

Then the light flickers. Bucky looks up. And then it flickers again.

And then it goes out. 

“Shit,” Sam chuckles, amused, as he turns on the lantern. 

Bucky shifts uneasily. 

Sam looks at him, a gentle look on his face. “I promise you, everything’s fine. The house is old, the power goes out when the weather gets rough. It happens.” 

Bucky nods, his knees comfortably against his chest. 

“Hey,” Sam said after a second. “Listen.” 

Bucky listened for whatever Sam was talking about. And all he heard was the rain.

It was a calming sound. Gentle, even as the sky roared around it. Like a flower growing in the crevice of a sharp and jagged rock.

Bucky liked the rain. This time, he was sure of it.

He gently reached for Sam’s hand. Sam took it, and much to Bucky’s surprise, didn’t make any teasing comments. 

They hold hands like that for a while. 

“Sam?” Bucky says after a long time.

“Yeah?” Sam glanced at him. 

“Thanks for being here.” Bucky hummed.

Sam only grinned. 

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

a/n: the first part of this fic was written in 2023. Because it’s technically a wip, I pray that it still fits in the bingo’s rules. However, since it was written in 2023 and finished in 2024, I’m sure there’s a discrepancy in the way I write or characterize the characters. I hope it’s not too noticeable—and if it is, my bad.

[shawnxstyles]

sweet alert!

DATE: JUNE 30, 2023

summary: peter invites you to the cabin. later, jax tries to talk to you and peter recalls his past.

song: Science- niall horan

words: 4.3k

warnings: mentions of death and blood, language, angst, and bits of fluff

note: the big chunk of italics are a flashback, but i think that’s obvious. i hope you guys like this part 5, it’s been awhile :) part 4 // peter masterlist

—

peter thought that walking you home would have been the most stressful thing in the world. but it turned out to be one of the most comfortable and heartwarming things he’s ever done. even in this cold weather.

together you talked about little things, but important things. things that seemed impossible, but only to the small-minded. not like your favorite color or schoolwork, but your dreams. what’s your dream vacation spot? your dream house? dream car? what do you aspire to be? who do you aspire to be?

questions like these were brought up, but not all were answered.

you said you wanted to get out of queens and live in the suburbs. or somewhere secluded and alone with nothing but the wilderness surrounding you. you didn’t care too much about money; you wanted to hear people’s stories. so you said you wanted to be some type of social worker too—in all, you just wanted to be happy. random, but notable.

were you not happy now? peter thought.

peter didn’t care what questions you were answering. but at the same time, he cared an overwhelming amount. he just loved hearing you talk and worshiped the things you said.

like you, peter had dreams. he believed everyone had dreams. who didn’t? besides his career dreams and bucket list goals, you were a walking dream in his eyes. a fleeting, golden glow of essence that affected him more than any superpower he had.

if only you saw him the way he saw you.

peter was a perfectionist. now, he wasn’t perfect by any means, but he wanted to be the best for you. he’d realized later, though, that you were simpler than that. sometimes, peter put you on a pedestal, afraid to touch you or even look at you. he didn’t need to be some perfect man to just hang out with you. so, peter resorted to being himself. kind of.

he wishes he was courageous enough to swoon you on your doorstep under the porch light. as you would turn away to walk inside, he would spin you around by your wrist and catch you in a deep, movie-like kiss. ha, imagine if he asked you to go to the cabin with him. now that would be ridiculous.

would it?

as he walked you home and envisioned this, these scenes were just one of the many fantasies he pictured with you. it was all only a fantasy.

“well, thank you with walking me,” you blurted out in the chilled air. your soothing voice shakes peter from his daydreams, or evening dreams because the sun was setting.

the sky faded from a cornflower blue to a deep indigo with white freckles. he forced himself to look away from the planet’s beauty because he could watch the sky all night—it was never leaving. however, you were leaving in a few moments.

“oh yeah, of course,” he stuffs his hand in his pockets to hide his fiddling fingers. you both slow down your stride as you approach your house, stopping in the front of your lawn.

“i’m sorry again about jax…” you look down as your eyes wander on the concrete, ashamed.

“it’s not your fault he’s a jerk,” peter is quick to reassure you as you slowly nod. you finally look up at peter, who is already looking at you. a familiar blush rushes to his cheeks, and he hopes you think it’s from the chill outside.

your eyes are sparkling from the streetlight as the area around you guys gets darker, colder. your face somehow still glows even during the night. not to be creepy, but peter could gaze at you forever like you were his favorite art piece in an entire gallery.

“sometimes, i wish i could get away, you know?” your eyes rip apart from his and stare towards your sneakers. your heart is beating way too quickly in your chest for a staring contest. it was cold and your body was trying to warm you up. simple.

“yeah,” peter’s first thought is the cabin, but you’d never want to go with him to that. you guys barely knew each other. even if you said you wanted to leave extremely bad, peter couldn’t ask you.

why? just ask her, you coward! the voice in peter’s head shouted. but what if she rejects you, dork? the devil on his shoulder retaliates.

you know what? he’s trying to be more courageous anyway. what’s the worst that could happen?

oh god i’m really doing this, he worries.

“i-i know a place where you can get away,” he stutters, mentally cursing at himself. you tilt your head in curiosity as you wait for him to continue. “my friend has this cabin that he’s going to next weekend with his girlfriend. he’s been begging me to go with him, but i didn’t want to third-wheel and you said you wanted to get away and i was just thinking maybe—”

“that sounds great, peter,” your soft, soothing voice cuts off his ramble thankfully. peter blinks a few times, in complete disbelief. instead of beating rapidly in his chest, his heart stopped abruptly. no blood, no breathing—he was just still.

wait, you said yes? no. fucking. way.

“fuck…” you groaned, clutching your stomach. peter pinches his eyebrows in concern.

“what—oh—right, sorry,” peter cringes at himself, realizing your pain. he wants to hug you and make it all go away. why couldn’t he have healing powers? but he can’t, so he just scratches his neck awkwardly.

“i should get going. text me the details,” you half-smile, clearly still in pain. peter waves you off, trying to hide his excitement. he waits until you shut the front door to walk away, a fluttery feeling erupting in his heart.

peter tucks his hands into his pockets, striding around the corner. looking all ways, he throws his hood over his head and readies his webs. he fires them towards the nearby lamp post and slings himself in the air.

while flying through the streets, he realizes that he doesn’t actually have your phone number. oh, well. that’s just another excuse for him to talk to you.

—

peter could not hold it in. he couldn’t wait the weekend to tell ned at school, so he facetimed him. he rambled from start to finish starting with the fight with jax and asking you to the cabin. ned’s jaw had fallen open in the beginning and didn’t close until the very end.

“peter…” was the only word he was able to form. peter couldn’t stop smiling, constantly replaying your soft voice in his head. it was like a dream; his dream making another dream come true. it was almost too good to be true. “you’re in, my dude! she totally wants you!”

peter didn’t think he could verbally deny it. of course, his head was telling him to not get ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help it right now. he felt like he was on top of the world, like the universe was finally on his side.

was it too good to be true?

—

peter knew this school week was going to be torturous. he knew that he would be crawling towards this three-day weekend slower than a turtle in quicksand. the only thing helping him through it was you, and the fact that he would see you every day during third.

speaking of which, as he was sitting patiently (or impatiently) in his desk, peter watched you strut into the room.

your hair was straightened, which wasn’t too often for you. a black, ribbed shirt fits your figure perfectly along with loose, green camouflage pants. moving past him, he saw your large gold hoops poking from your hair. his eyes were trapped in a gaze at where you stood, mesmerized by the air you left. when the bell rang, he was still staring, daydreaming into space.

every time he saw you smile he swore the clouds parted and the sun shined a little brighter. your smile could make angels descend from heaven.

“hello, class,” the teacher starts, folding her hands together. “i’ve given you all a few days to answer the before-researching questions. that should be finished by now. at this point, you should have some of your research done and should be writing your source pages…”

peter honestly zoned out. this is one of the first times he hasn’t paid attention in school. he wasn’t really worried about it though; he would catch up easily. when the teacher claps, that’s the cue for everyone to gather in their groups. peter snatches his bag and heads towards the back with a smile on his face.

“hey, parker,” you smile widely, almost showing your teeth. peter smiled back. you looked great today. well, of course, you looked great everyday, but you didn’t look ill anymore.

maybe your period was over.

your period was over, thank the heavens. that was one of the good side effects of your birth control. the bad ones consisted of horrible cramps and a depressive mood.

you really needed to change it…

peter laid the groundwork on the desk in front of him and started filling out some of the questions. last class he did everything by himself because he didn’t want you to stress even more than you probably were. you found it sweet. you found peter sweet. in a store full of candies and chocolates, he’d be the best thing there. he’d be the reason people come into the store, just so they can see him.

peter was really the only thing that made you come to english, and with a little smile on your face.

did that mean something? no, no.

“i can help, you know,” you chuckled, “i’m not completely useless.”

“of course, i know that. i’m just trying to get this done,” peter didn’t really want to say it, but you guys were a bit behind. last class he was so infuriated with how jax was treating you that he didn’t get much done. he’s barely finishing the before-researching questions.

“oh okay,” you nodded and folded your hands, not really sure what to do. you actually felt good today and you wanted to assist peter with the project. you were in a better state of mind than you were on friday. peter notices this from the corner of his eye. his heart skips a beat for some reason, even though it’s been relatively calm next to you.

peter’s heart? calm? next to you?

“actually, can you go grab a computer? then we can try to start our research,” peter suggests. you salute him and slide out from your desk, following his orders.

he finishes up the last question with ease since he read the book over the summer. peter doesn’t actually know if you read it, but he wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t. it’s okay, he doesn’t mind. he’s used to his partners not doing anything. but unlike them, you actually want to help. plus, peter really likes working with you.

suddenly, peter’s ears tingle, making his pencil halt. all the chatter in the room goes muffled for him besides the voices his ears are zoning in on.

it’s you and jax near the computer cart.

trying not to make it obvious, peter rests his head on his hand and sneakily peeks at you two while listening intently.

“looking good today,” jax clicks his tongue, smugness evident in his tone. you ignore and don’t engage—your motto. jax clearly doesn’t like that, so he continues on to get your attention.

“so, how’s your little nerd-friend?” jax taunts from behind you in line for the computers. you try not to indulge or be affected, keeping your face front as you wait patiently. but it was hard when your feelings toward peter were soft and endearing unlike jax’s poisonous intentions. he didn’t deserve to be bullied, especially by someone who’s a waste of space.

wait… feelings? like friend feelings, right?

“he’s good. thanks for asking,” you take a step forward, bending down to look into the cart.

“have you fucked him yet?”

your heart skips a chaotic beat, causing you to terminate your movements. your jaw and eyelids tick, frustration firing up in your veins. you swear to god you were going to hit him.

ignore, don’t engage.

“what the hell am i saying?” jax says with a dry chuckle, bending down near the cart. you turn your head towards him with an angry, confused expression. “you probably don’t even need to fuck him. he’s probably doing all the work for you and you don’t even have to bat a fucking eye. or—that’s all you do. just sit there and look pretty. isn’t that right?”

your lips were pursed together tightly at his words and your fingers were nearly shaking from rage. you swear at this point there was no one in your life that infuriated you more than jax. not even your father.

peter’s heart was pounding. he couldn’t believe the nasty words he was hearing. without thinking, peter stands up to head to the computer cart. his pencil snaps completely in half in his hand, too irritated from jax’s behavior.

you wanted to respond, but you couldn’t. you didn’t know what to say to such a comment. it was obviously wrong because peter wasn’t like that. he was pure and he was innocent, unlike anyone you’ve ever known. he wasn’t fucked up in the head. he didn’t need to go parties where there were drugs and drinks to make himself feel better. he didn’t need to fuck people to feel validated.

peter had a clear future, and you didn’t. he knew what he what he was doing, and you didn’t. he had self-control. and you didn’t. not anymore.

jax was getting in your head. you were more than just your looks. you were smart. you may not be peter’s level of intelligent and you might not be amazing at school, but you had your own thing.

as you opened your mouth to sprout fire on jax, a soothing voice appears like a guardian angel.

“i’m kind of stuck on one of the questions. do you mind looking at it? i can grab this,” peter rushes his words, trying his best not to stumble over them in anxiousness. his heart was racking impossibly quick in his chest with you staring at him and jax’s eyes burning into his face.

peter saw relief splash over your face like cold water. it was very rare for peter to need help on anything in school, so the fact that he was asking you proved that he was really helping you out. he gave you a clear out and you didn’t hesitate to take it.

“y-yeah, i’ll go look at it right now,” you tuck some hair behind your ear and shuffle your way towards the back, not giving jax another look.

peter didn’t think this far ahead. he didn’t think at all really. but now he was standing awkwardly with jax hovering practically above him, glaring at him with flaming machetes in his eyes. as peter reaches to grab a computer, jax aggressively pokes him with two thick fingers.

“you—”

“is there a problem here, mr. campbell?” the teacher announces beside both of the boys. her hands are folded together in front of her, waiting for him to respond.

with a strong jaw and the world’s tightest smile, jax replies, “no, ma’am.”

“we were just talking,” he roughly pats peter’s back before walking away and going to his desk. that whole interaction felt like hours, when it was maybe a few minutes. peter didn’t know. he just snatched a computer and made his way back to you.

“you okay?” peter softly asks, placing the device on the desk. you were completely zoned out, eyes still and lips remaining pursed. “y/n?”

you shake your head, hoops dangling through your hair. you turn to peter and give him a fake smile and lightly nod. the one you show when you’re not okay, but can pass for “i’m alright, don’t mind me.” people usually see that smile and leave you alone.

peter sees that look on your face and knows you’re not really okay. he’s seen the expression of someone trying to conceal their anger, fear, or sadness too many times. he’s seen it on victims in the street, his friends, family, and even in the mirror.

when peter lost his parents, he had that face a lot. people from everywhere asked him about his parents, even people who he barely knew or haven’t talked to in years. to peter, they didn’t really care, they just wanted to know more information. right after they say i’m sorry for your loss, their follow-up question is always what happened? even when they know. everyone knows. word gets around.

it’s not every day that someone’s parents die in a car accident while the child lives. devastating, right? peter was only eight years old. he remembers that night more vividly than any other memory. how could he think of anything else but the death of his parents?

his parents were the kindest people he’d ever known. most people don’t get to say that about their parents, but peter could say it without hesitation. when they were taken from him, right in front of his innocent eyes, everything just…

“that food was delicious,” peter’s father, richard, starts as they get into the car. peter was so full he could barely walk to the car, so his dad carried him. he got very sleepy just from the short walk.

“i agree,” mary, his mother, smiled with a nod. her teeth were big and white, while her bottom row was a little crooked. her hair was straight and short—a little past her shoulders like dark oak. peter thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world. and so did his father.

his father was a smart man; assistant of some sort that peter didn’t remember. he just knows that he got a lot of money because he said peter could have any action figure he wanted. that’s so many!

he was clean shaven. he rarely had a beard, but when he did, peter knew he was hard at work. he had smile marks around his lips and the darkest green eyes peter had ever seen.

“what did you think, peter?” his mom asked, twisting her head. he yawned in response as he sat in the backseat, little hands rubbing his tired eyes. his parents cohesively chuckled as his father started the engine.

“are you buckled?” his dad questions, adjusting the mirror a tad.

“yes, dad,” peter grumbled, shifting around in his seat to get comfortable. he rests his arm on the right side door, leaning on his open palm.

peter feels the smoothness of the road beneath the car and gets even sleepier. he sees the dim headlights flashing behind his closed eyelids as he drifts off to slumber. his parents quietly converse all the way home.

“our sweet boy,” he barely hears his mother mumble. he can envision the endearing look on her face.

what felt like a few seconds went by, and then peter was jolted awake. his body was flung forward, neck straining and slamming against the side door. his body erupts in an ache, his right arm screaming in sharp pain.

when the blurriness fades from his vision, he zones in on the scene around him. it was horrific.

his beloved mother and father lie drenched in their own blood, heads bent towards their laps. peter couldn’t see their faces, but he desperately wanted to.

“mom? dad?” peter croaks. he unstraps his seatbelt with his left hand, clutching his right wrist. he leans over the console, staring at his parents’ state.

he was in such shock he didn’t know what to do. his heart was beating uncontrollably fast, but he felt as if everything was moving in slow motion. with wide, glossy eyes, peter stares at his parents collided with some white balloon, nudging them with desperateness.

“mom! dad! wake up!” he shouts fearfully, but they don’t respond. he pushes them by their shoulders until they’re shaking and he’s screaming their titles, but they don’t answer.

peter blocked out the squealing sounds of the sirens and the sight of the red and blue. the amount of brightness around should have blinded him, but nothing blinded him more than the scene unfolded in front of him.

choked up and crying, tears streamed down peter’s cheeks as the left side of the car door was open. his hands were trembling, vibrant with crimson liquid he didn’t know was there. he stares at the man with a shining flashlight, urging him to exit the vehicle.

peter is hesitant, but follows out of fear. arm still in hand, a group of people crowd him and usher him around. he doesn’t know what’s going on, everything is just slowed down. looking through the chaos of people, he spots another car that collided with his parents.

sliding his way through the officers and emergency workers, peter makes his way to the car.

the car that crashed into his parents’ seemed less ruined, and the guy in the front seat seemed less hurt. peter stared at the man covered in his own blood. he watched as his body slumped over the console, giving out.

mindlessly, the world becomes muted as peter get dragged away into an ambulance. he winces in pain as he’s strapped into a stretcher, neck burning. from the bottom of his eyes, he can see so many lights; white, red, blue, yellow.

as the doors to the ambulance shut, the only scene replaying over in peter’s head is the sight of his bloody parents and the drunk man in the other car. their last words will always echo in his head: “our sweet boy.”

over and over. and over and over. for his whole life.

it never went away. it never really…

stopped.

as peter got older, he was allowed to learn more about his parents’ death. he was able to accept it more. he went to therapy since then, but he hasn’t gone recently. he hasn’t felt the need to. and yeah, he knows that that’s the point when you’re supposed to stay because it’s working. but he’s too busy now. plus, he’s been a bit distracted lately. maybe that’s just what he needs.

may just listens, and he loves that. yes, she gives him lectures and all the normal parent stuff, but she never forces him to talk about it. not only did she lose her younger sister, but she was given a child without a warning. may was always a free spirit, someone who never settled. but she had no choice but to when peter was placed into her hands.

she took him in without a second thought, and he’s never been more grateful for anyone or anything.

“peter?” your hand rests on his tightened shoulder, which relaxes from your touch. his glossy, zoned out eyes blink a few times before focusing in on you, just like you had moments ago.

you noticed a shift in his demeanor, but didn’t dare to comment on it. you just concentrated on researching on your computer. you two didn’t speak for the rest of class. it wasn’t awkward but comforting. it was good to know that you didn’t have to forcefully converse with peter. sometimes you could just sit in silence. even though the classroom wasn’t very quiet.

when the bell rang, peter sighed and tucked his notes into his backpack. you watch with some sadness, wondering what off-set his mood so much. you gently shut the computer as peter gets ready to leave.

“peter, wait!” you call out as you hurriedly shove the computer into its slot. he turns around with a wistful look on his face with a tad bit of sadness laced in his features.

“yeah?”

“thank you,” you inhale as you stare at him. eyes wondering over his face. he half-smiles at you, the same expression you were giving him earlier. “it’s going to be okay.”

you didn’t even know why you said that, but you felt like he needed to hear that. he releases a shaky, wavering breath as your hand lies on his strapped shoulders.

“you think so?” peter mindlessly asks, staring into your eyes. it’s the first time he’s ever been able to do it without feeling the need to look away.

“yeah, i do,” you smile, more genuine than before. you want him to know you mean it. “you’re a sweet boy, peter. so yes, it’s going to be okay.”

like before, your hands slide into his lightly gelled hair. your nails gently scratch his scalp, leaving peter’s head all tingly in their absence. with that, you leave the classroom and peter by himself.

he takes a deep breath, trying to internalize your words. you’ve called him sweet in the past and he never was affected this way. he would feel his heart pound and float because your words were so soft and kind. but after his recall of his parents death and their last, echoing words, he finds it crazy that you happened to say that.

our sweet boy, his mom’s voice lingers.

sweet boy, your kind voice repeats.

maybe with time, you’ll replace the sweet, painful words that kill him a little more every day. but he doesn’t know if that’s possible. not now.

even though he’s been able to accept it more now, there’s still a part inside of him that wishes he died that night too.

—

tags: @aesthetics-andfandoms @percyjacksonspeen @rafecameronsbadussy @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @slut4sarahpaulson @lnmp89 @juliatpwk @whothafugh @harrys-humble-housewife @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @angelayse @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @geralddil26 @serendipity-y @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @raajali3

crossed out= not able to tag

wow look at all the tags!! thank you!!

[your-local-synth-babe]

Midnight Jokes [ Eyeless Jack x F!Reader ]

God it's been so long but i'm feeling the groove again so plz take this and enjoy being a soft bby because you deserve it <3

______________________________________________________________

Blurp. BLurP. BluRp.

   You could hear the electric kettle steaming from across the room. Two cups were already placed by with tea bags on the soft white counter and as the piping hot water submerged the small porous packets they turned a lovely tawny brown. The smell of chai tea was always nostalgic. You set the hot kettle back on its station and prepared yourself mentally. A friend should be arriving soon, but you don't know when exactly. It's been an odd turn of events since you've met, especially since people don't usually first meet on someone's balcony; However, You could care less. Working from home so often, you've noticed it's been harder to stay in contact with past friends. Having someone drop by in the middle of the night randomly was nice, especially when they brought occasional snacks.

   Taking the two steaming cups, you placed one on the wooden stool by the opening of the sliding doors and kept one for yourself. Outside was the snow-covered street, barely illuminated by the warm yellow hue of the street lamp. With the new year brought plenty of snow and freezing temps. While pretty, it looked lonely. Not a living thing in sight. The cold seeped through the tiny cracks of the door and you could feel it just by standing next to the door in your thin socks. Sometimes you'd wish the tea would be just enough to warm your whole body and not just your hands that were wrapped around it.

   As the thought crept by, a light thud brought you to your senses. A few seconds later a much heavier thud followed. Your friend is here. With a delighted jump, you opened the clear sliding door and peeked your head out into the cold air to be greeted by a familiar blue mask shrouded in dark clothing. "Jack! I don't understand how you can stand these temperatures." You said loudly, unsure if he could hear you or not being bundled up. 

   "You'd be surprised, one nice coat can go a long way.." A low soft voice replied followed by a short chuckle. 

   You opened up the door a little more and took a step back so he could come in. A little hesitant, he cautiously stepped in and closed the glass door behind him. He’s usually never in an extra layer, so took a moment to just look a little longer taking care to ignore the red specs dotted around. "Just in time too, the tea shouldn't be too hot to drink now." 

   You took a good sip of yours as it seemed to now be at a perfect temperature for big chugs. He picked up the small cylinder tea cup up to his mask; it looked tiny in his large gloved hand. 

   "Chai... smells nice." He commented.

   He moved his mask to the side which exposed just the lower half of his face and Grey skin. You caught a glimpse of his sharp teeth as he took a sip and it sent light shivers through your body. Instead of fantasizing anymore about the rest of his features you shoved your mouth full of your tea and grabbed a short stool on wheels from across the room. This was the first time he’s truly been inside your apartment. The weather not too long ago was decent enough to stay outside, but the sudden drop in temperatures had become too much. You were surprised he still dropped by.

   "Your apartment is nice.. much smaller than I figured." He chatted as he moved the wooden stool by the door just out of sight from it against the wall and began shedding himself of layers. 

   First, his gloves came off, revealing nearly black hands, and then his bag and extra leather coat he had on. He lowered his hood revealing short wavy hair that barely covered his pointy ears and set his belongings on the ground next to the stool. You could not help but stare in awe at him. He looked the same as usual, but something about him being comfortable made you content.

   "I-... oh! Yes. My apartment. It's just me and salmon. Barely anyone visits these days so... the space is just enough. Just enough for two." 

   The apartment was much tinier than it seemed. It was a studio apartment that was only 266 Sq ft and everything managed to fit perfectly. You even were able to fit a thin sheer divider between the kitchen and living space so your desk and bar cart could go against it. The couch was opposite of the TV and cat tower of course and a murphy bed was against the adjacent wall in-between the couch and desk. A little perfect square for a little lady and her little naked cat

   "With the bed out now, it seems cramped, but I never have company over and Salmon loves to sleep on the cotton blanket." You commented, peeking over now at the plush pink ball in the middle of the half-made bed.

   At that moment, you could hear the buzz before you saw the light of your phone cut on. And then another buzz and third. 

   "Someone's popular." He chuckled.

   Rolling your eyes jokingly, you picked up the small touchscreen and checked. To your unfortunate surprise, it was a coworker. A coworker who you were stuck with on a project who's taken too much of a liking to you. "It's just a coworker.." You sighed.

   "Is it not important if it's work?" He questioned, holding his empty cup in his lap.

   "Well... kind of but not really??? It's a side project so we can work on it whenever, we just gotta log out hours and stuff, but this dude doesn't get the hint that I'm not.. into him. Like he's constantly asking to hang out outside of work and offers lunch but I'm not keen on really going out.. with him." 

   Setting the phone down you open up your laptop and scroll through work chats and open up a program. Jack quietly stood up and came behind you, hovering over your shoulder and watching you open up tabs and message back. You barely feel his breath on your neck.

   "So basically using work as an excuse to harass you to go out. How unfortunate." He sounded so nonchalant. 

   "He is very persistent at that." You added.

   You angrily typed a message stating you were busy and yet immediately received the message back it would take mere minutes. Your mood soured. Perhaps you should have just left your phone alone and pretended to sleep as usual. Looking for excuses, your eyes wandered to the alcohol cart sitting right in plain sight.

   "Oh, how about something much heavier to drink that way there'd be no way we could discuss work because I'd be too intoxicated. Hehe," you proudly shimmied your roller stool over to the cart. 

   "..or you could fake being drunk?" Jack questioned, standing up straight as he watched you open a bottle and pause mid-way to look at him like a child caught in the cookie jar.

   "....That too. I suppose that could work." You lowered the glass bottle slightly and thought not much at all about it. "But what fun would that be?" You gave a goofy smile. 

   "Besides, I'm an awful actor.. ask Salmon, she'd tell you everything if she could." 

   At that moment, not that you were looking at all, the hairless cat on the bed stretched and gave a light 'meroww' in response. It surely gave you and Jack a chuckle as you rolled across the hard floor into the kitchen for ice. Jack as well followed with the tea cups and set them in the sink. 

   "I'm not one to deny a free drink, but I warn you now, you may not have anything left. It takes quite a bit for me to even get tipsy." He comments.

   "Well, at least it's not about getting piss-poor drunk tonight." You stood up from your chair and grabbed whiskey glasses and acquired sphere ice from your small fridge. "It's about coming up with a great excuse to tell my coworker to fuck off. Besides, what better way to enjoy an evening than having a drink with a good friend? Because this guy really doesn't care and I guarantee you when I get back to that desk he's gonna start calling-" 

   In that instance, you could hear the Skype tune obnoxiously going off. You rolled your eyes and looked at Jack who gave a hearty chuckle as you continued to pour two mighty glasses of whiskey.

    "Not very work-appropriate of me, I know." You handed him the glass and without thought silently cheered and drank as you made your way back to the desk, pulling along the roller stool since it was your only seat. He followed you back around and watched from the makeshift doorway as you adjusted at your desk. You took another big swig of your drink. "Pheww. This shit is strong. It burns like hell." You cringed at the burn in your throat.

   "Well, this isn't exactly your chugging type of drink." He responded, taking a good swig of his as well with no reaction and a goofy smile.

   You gave him a playful glare and a short shake of your head in disappointment before smiling. The call tune continued to play and you stared at it like a sad puppy. Jack couldn't help but stifle his chuckles as you proceeded to hit accept and exclaim to your bothersome coworker he had 5 minutes. Of course, that didn't go very well as he proceeded to mix his comments and statements between work and personal interests. He chatted and chatted away so much that when those 5 minutes passed he still hadn't given a direct statement as to what brought up this emergency meeting. 

   It got to a point where you and Jack started to make a game to drink every time he mentioned any personal statements rather than a work one. Of course, that didn't go so well since you couldn't get any breaks in between swigs and kept spitting out saliva from the taste. You felt dizzy and weak, so much so that Jack easily noticed and grabbed you a room-temperature glass of water to drink. You silently thanked him as he took your glass away and tried to head to the kitchen sink but stumbled. 

  "Oh- fuck-" he adjusted and turned to you stifling your laughter. "What was in your shit?" He softly stated, groaning lightly as he put the glasses in the sink and returned to the side of your desk.

   "Hello, everything okay?"  Your coworker chimes in but you quickly hushed him and said all was fine.

   Meanwhile, In-between the sink and your desk, Jack had a moment to take his hoodie off, revealing a deep black short-sleeved shirt, and his arms where from his forearm to his fingertips were an ombre to a nearly black color. His shoulders were very broad and overall his figure had you having some very creative thoughts. Jack took his mask off and set it down on your desk. He tiredly dragged his hand over his face, hoping to rub away any sleepiness he had. Being drunk enough, you simply rested your chin on your palm with your elbow barely propped on the desk and watched him. You stared longingly, finally being able to see his face after months of midnight adventures and escapades of fast food or park explorations. He was honestly rather handsome. He had what started to look like barely facial hair in the back corner of his jawline. His eyes, while nothing was there, seemed to be giving you a soft expression. You couldn't help but admire how he just seemed so put together even while tired. 

   It didn't take long for him to notice your gaze. He was only buzzed enough to be much more comfortable sharing than before and honestly enjoyed the attention he was receiving. He contently watched you with an almost longing look on his face.

   "And so- actually- hey! Are you even listening? Are you there? You haven't said a word?" Your coworker suddenly got much louder.

   Jack has a scowl and you stood up, startled by the outburst. You clicked a few things away and as you were about to respond, Jack got super close to you and whispered in your ear that he had a little joke he wanted to play. You were confused at first but frankly couldn't care less since he had something in mind and in yours, birdies were flying circles. 

   "Mhm yep- still -hic- here and listening. This is dragging a bit, I still have company." 

   Shrugging it off and ignoring you completely, your coworker continued his rant. It's been 20-plus minutes at this point and you were ready to slam this laptop shut. Yet you were curious as to what Jack had planned. Another 2 minutes go by before Jack buries his face into the crook of your neck, making you quietly gasp sharply. He licks your neck wetly with a sly chuckle as he wraps his buff arms around your waist, bringing you closer to his chest. Not knowing what to do with your hands as this was all so sudden, you slam your hands onto your desk accidentally and clank your water cup enough to be picked up.

   "Hello? I heard a thud- did you knock something over?" Your coworker remarks.

   "Ah- yes. I- I'm fine-" you began to speak but immediately get cut off by Jack. "She said she had company. You've already taken up my time with her, so I'm turning you off now, fucker." 

   Taken completely off guard, your coworker stammers and stumbles over words. Seemed like he wanted to ask who that was but couldn't find the right words before Jack nonetheless shuts your laptop off and slams it close. 

   "Well, that works-" 

   Before you could finish your comment you were swiftly picked up, still held at the waist, and walked over to the bed. You giggled much as it felt a little funny being carried that way. Jack plopped you down on the bed and swiftly fell after you. Salmon had already jumped away and now it was just the two of you on your full-sized deep blue murphy bed. You could still feel the warmth of the whiskey in your stomach and chest. Your throat felt dry and honestly you didn't realize how exhausted you were till now.

   "That little stool is so bad for my back. haha..." You made small talk. 

   You could see how done he felt about that experience through his facial expression, yet he looked like he wanted to say something to you. He just stared at you with his black abyss eyes. You felt a little nervous. Your faces were mere inches apart. Your bodies were close, but nothing touched. You tried to swallow your spit, but it only just made your mouth dry as well.

   "I'm thirsty... my mouth feels dry." You lightly whispered.

   "Well.." He huskily whispered back." I can help you with that."

   At that moment he took his hand and guided your chin up and pressed his lips to yours. His tongue glided into your mouth and suddenly you forget you were even thinking about grabbing your drink. You shifted closer, moving one hand to his shoulder and the other to his chest. You slid your free leg in between his and overall leaned towards him. In between wet kisses, you fought sleep hard. You were much too content with this moment to be falling asleep on it. 

   Just as you felt your body get even drowsier, Jack pulled away to look at you. You fluttered your eyes open tiredly to see his face a tint shade darker and a sly smile. You gave a weak chuckle as he leaned over you more to start attacking your neck as he did earlier. You could only help but give a mix of giggles and moans as he gave you quick kisses all over and meanwhile ran a hand over your forearm to interlock with your small hands. Eventually, he got tired of giving hickies and came back to your lips. He gave you a few short sloppy kisses before getting comfortable half on top of you. You let out a heavy breath. 

   "You... are heavy." You whined, detangling your hand from his just to drape it over him and run your hands through his hair. 

   He gave a short groan and shifted over the slightest bit. You laughed and squeezed him with your free arm.

   "Well, could we at least get under the cover? It's a bit too cold to be cuddling without a blanket." You retorted as you began to squirm from him to try and get comfortable in the bed.

   "I could think of a few more ways to warm up than getting under the covers" He smirked.

   You rolled your eyes as you shimmied from underneath him and crawled up towards the pillows and underneath your covers and of course, he was quick to follow. 

   “Next time, I’m just going to shut your shit off completely.” He remarked, and you responded with a giggle.

   “Well- next time I just won't answer and fall for that trap again.” 

   Jack let out a huff and you could feel his warm breath on your neck again. You thought to yourself you could get used to there being another person around more often in your tiny space. Yep, just enough for two.

[mairablue]

Scm - Department of Wishes

Tauxolouve ♐- Heavenly Light

For fluffbruary event ( @fluffbruary )

A/N: My first ever fluffbruary post! 😭🤧 I hope you enjoy reading this! 💜💙

Prompts: camera | lush | beau

4th February, 2024

~~~

Small droplets of water dripped down the glass window. Cold morning breeze brushed against the leaves of the trees. The fire continued to burn brightly in the fireplace, keeping the surroundings warm.

Tauxolouve walked in the living room, carrying a tray. Two ceramic cups and some cookies were placed on a plate.

"(Name)?"

You look up from the book. Quickly putting a bookmark, you placed it on your lap.

"Thank you", you said as a peaceful sigh escaped from your lips, "delicious as always."

He smiled at your words and took a sip from his cup. You looked at the window and then at the wall clock, which showed 3.35 AM.

" Sweetheart." His honeyed voice brought you back from your thoughts. You couldn't help but voice your concerns, "I can barely see anything outside. Are you sure the weather is appropriate...", you paused before adding "for taking pictures?"

For a slight fraction of second there was some uneasiness in his eyes but he quickly brushed away those thoughts and replied, " If we reach there by 4 AM; i will surely be able to capture some beautiful photos."

You nodded your head in agreement.

Thick fog covered the narrow road, which made driving nearly impossible.

Tauxolouve opened the car's door. We were a bit surprised to see that nobody had yet arrived at the top of the hill. We walked forward; our fingers intertwined with each other's. Some cars were slowly climbing up.

With each passing minute, the fog was becoming denser, swallowing the mountain. The trees started disappearing to the point, where the lower part of the enormous mountain seems to be covered by a thick greenish blanket.

Looking down at the road, you saw the cars standing still, lining up one after another. Few people got out of the cars and started walking towards the top of the hill.

Tauxolouve looked at his wrist watch.

You placed your hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at you, and for a brief moment the determination in his eyes seemed to falter. His eyes losing some of the warmth in them.

Most people who arrived at the spot seemed disappointed. Some of them decided to wait.

Minutes turned into an hour.

"Such a waste of time", a girl said to her mother, " i can't believe you woke me up for this so early in the morning."

Another 15 minutes had passed. The weather showed no signs of improvement.

Now there was only one family standing there with you and Tauxolouve. Most cars were gone, aside from a few who were determined to get a glimpse of the heavenly light.

Beads of sweat started to appear on his forehead as he once again looked at the watch. Time was running out from his fingers like sand.

Was he going to lose another golden opportunity? Perhaps he should have gone elsewhere; he pondered. It was too late to think about these things.

" Mom, dad how long do we have to wait?" the boy asked his parents.

" (Name), we should leave." Tauxolouve wishpered. " I am sorry for bringing you here in this weather. "

His voice, so lifeless that it made your heart shatter. Still his bright smile did not leave his face. He was trying his best to not look disappointed.

As you two were about to walk back to the car, the boy shouted, "Mom look", pointing at the sky , "the Sun".

True to his words, the clouds were slowly making the way for the Sun. Soon rays from heaven fell on Earth. The golden light being reflected from the snowy mountain peak, making it shine like a diamond.

Tauxolouve wasted no time and quickly captured the breathtaking sight in his camera. The sight so divine that it filled your heart with bliss.

Tauxolouve hugged you tightly before picking you up in his arms and kissing you deeply. " I love you. " he wishpered. " I love you too. " you said as you placed a tender kiss on his forehead.

The heartfelt moment passed away and Tauxolouve was back to his usual self.

" Let's celebrate, my sweet lady. " the teasing tone in his honeyed voice was too hard to ignore. Taking his hand in yours, you two walk back to the car.

[mncxbe]

thinking about.. dancing at night with akutagawa

you were drowned in your thoughts while holding akutagawa in your arms, time had passed so fast that you didn't realize it had passed midnight and akutagawa had already fell asleep, and you haven't.

you just couldn't get your mind out of things. everything had been so stressful lately, you've been overworking and haven't been able to get much sleep, and you didn't wanted to worry your lovely partner, so you decided to go outside and try to calm your mind.

as soon as you stepped outside the fresh air hit your face nicely, the weather was windy and cold that day, but you couldn't care less. you sat on the grass, staring at the stars. feeling like the weight on your shoulders was slipping like the leaves on the ground.

you close your eyes and let the cool wind was blew your hair gracefuly, making it flutter.

"why are you here? don't you see how cold it is? come back in. you're going to catch a cold if you stay outside any longer."

the sound of akutagawa's sleepy voice scolding you woke you up from thoughts. you turned to him smiling, handing him your hand, watching the expression on his face switch to confusion.

you took his hand in yours, locking your fingers together, "let's dance a bit my love, shall we?"

and before akutagawa could say anything, you pulled him to the grass, making him let out a surprised yelp. you put your hands on his shoulders, looking at him with your pretty eyes, waiting for him to go with your flow.

and how could he refuse? he'd do anything for you just to make you happy, even though he'd rather die than admit it to your face. he let out an annoyed sigh, acting like he's annoyed by you, when you didn't just worried him to death when he noticed you weren't in bed holding him.

you knew he didn't had experience with such things, so you guided him, you put his hand on your waist, slowly starting to dance with him, your soft nightdress flowing as you moved.

he was a fast learner for sure, eventually when his moves became smoother, he let his body relax and just went with the flow.

the world seemed to fade away, as if the time had stopped and you were in your own silly little world, you closed your eyes, continuing to dance with him, as if you've done this many times.

akutagawa wished you could see your face, and how pretty you looked. your lashes resting on your cheeks, how the sound of your tired chuckles was music to his ears and how he was falling in love with you all over again.

your silly dance slowly came to an end, once akutagawa placed a tender and slow kiss on your lips under the moonlight, pulling you closer to him. and you returned the favor by kissing him back, cupping his cheeks.

he pulled away, giving you a tired smile. he had never felt more at peace, but he did now, while he was with you.

you smiled back, "sorry for making you stay up for me aku"

"tch.. don't mention it. now let's get back now, it's getting colder. you'll get sick."

⋆·˚ ༘ *

I'm sure you'll do great in your exams, make sure you don't overwork yourself my dear, I'm sending you much love </3 and here's a little silly thing I wrote ab aku 🤍

I am currently so sleepy writing this, I tried to make it as in character as possible, and if there are any flaws, blame it on my sleepiness.

AAAA I JUST GOT TO READ IT AND IT'S SO SJSJSJJS. akutagawa was my main babygirl for such a long time and this brought back so many feelings🥹🩷 you wrote it so well and in character imo YUMMY that's me reading this🔽