#feels like there LITERALLY wasn’t enough happiness in my life for me to hold on to I HAD to escape in one way or another

[samsno1]

Surprise

Sam Winchester x F!Reader

I'm a littleeeee late for his birthday one-shot but I did it! Happy Birthday Sammy, the biggest comfort character that I have and the reason for my obsession with a 15 season TV show

Summary: The morning of Sam's birthday didn't go according to planned - in the best way possible

Warnings: PURE FLUFF, naked-ness and hints of sexual intercourse but literally nothing happens, english is not my first language

WC: 1.7k

enjoy!

It was hilarious. The way Sam tried for so long to not bother you about his birthday. Brushing it off, claiming it was nothing, saying you never needed to do much for him because just your presence was enough to make him happy. It was cute but you never bought it, this year was the same thing.

You had woken up later than him that morning, noticed when you didn’t feel the warmth of his chest on your bare back and his hands holding you close like he did the night before. You wondered how he did it, the man kept you up all night and still was able to get up at six for his morning run. Either way, Sam usually went on runs early to clear his head and you knew his birthday was somewhat of a taboo for him – damn John Winchester. He wasn’t very open about it but, from what you knew about his father in the years you knew Sam and Dean, you could have an idea of why he didn’t take his birthday as an important date.

You got up, discarding the sheets, the cold hitting your naked body making goosebumps rise over your skin. The room was an absolute mess, your clothes and Sam’s scattered all around, half the sheet on the ground along with a pillow that you probably pushed off the bed to make up some space. You smiled to yourself feeling the warmth on your cheeks – it has been three years since you started dating Sam and five since you met him and he still managed to make you feel like it was your first time all over again.

You gathered some clean clothes of yours and decided to hop on the shower to really wake up and, since Sam never ate breakfast before a run, you wanted to start his special day with his favorite breakfast – made by you. Sam always appreciated anything you did for him, be it the simplest thing as breakfast or complex things such as, well, saving his life. Dean always teased about Sam being madly in love with you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. Little did he know it was practically the same for you too. The pining was terrible and you only noticed how embarrassing it truly was after you started dating. You assumed, though, it was always like that, what matters is that it worked out and it was one of the best decisions of your life to start a relationship with Sam Winchester.

You thought about all kinds of things you could do to surprise Sam later. He wasn’t much for parties and only drank casually – unlike his brother. He liked Celine Dion but you thought it would be too dismissive to buy a vinyl of hers for his birthday. To sum it up, Sam was a hard guy to buy gifts for because everything he told you when you asked what he liked to get was I don’t need much sweetheart, just give me anything and I’ll be more than happy. Ugh, such a cliché thing to say to your girlfriend.

While you were cooking the eggs you heard the loud noise of the metal door to the bunker closing and immediately smiled to yourself knowing your birthday boy had arrived. He ran down the stairs and you were able to hear his tired breaths from afar. You always wondered why he liked running so much, catching yourself thinking of all the different reasons why he might feel the need to run every morning. Maybe it was just great to workout, maybe he just needed some time alone, maybe he just likes the fresh air from time to time, either way, you weren’t by any means going to complain about waking up on an empty bed every now and again – it was one of the things he enjoyed, you weren’t going to ruin it for him.

You felt strong – and slightly sweaty – arms wrap around your waist from behind and soft lips kissing the side of your neck, a light hum coming out of his mouth as he smelled your perfume. “Good morning, Sweetheart” He whispered against your skin.

“Good morning baby, I’m making breakfast for you birthday boy” You said.

You felt him smile over your neck, and one of his hands snaked up and grasped your chin, turning your face to him. He quickly looked at your eyes, then your lips, leaning in to leave a long peck over them. You sighed dreamily through your nose, turning your body around completely to him, making him adjust his other hand on your waist. When he pulled away Sam was looking at you with the most loving eyes you had ever witnessed – well, he always looked at you like that.

“You didn’t have to”

“I wanted to, don’t start” You countered. You would’ve ran a hand through his hair, hugged him tight and showered him in kisses but, first, he needed an actual shower – his front strands were shining with sweat. “Now” You laid a hand over his chest “go take a shower so that I can greet you properly and for you to eat”

He lowered both his hands to your waist again and you felt his thumbs under your shirt, caressing your bare skin. He seemed to not have registered a word you said as he just stared dreamily at your face.

“Thank you” He said suddenly. You felt a seriousness in his tone, something more than just thanking you for making him food. The words hung heavy on his tongue and in your ears, your brain trying to process what he really meant by them. You knew that in ‘Winchester’ – or better, the way Sam and Dean spoke about feelings – ‘thank you’ could mean a thousand different things and emotions and this time it definitely wasn’t just for the eggs.

Sam noticed the confusion on your face, your beautiful eyes trying to read through his and figure it out. You were a smart woman, Sam knew that. He also knew you would not just take that thank you as something simple, specially with the way he said it. Truth was, Sam wanted to say so much more, to drown you in his words, to fill your body with emotions but he was just too scared. Every time he felt the need to tell you more, the constriction in his throat was stronger, the nervousness in his body was overwhelming and he would just not say exactly what he wanted to say. The velvet box hung heavy in the pocket of his shorts.

“For what?” You asked, almost in a whisper, eyebrows furrowed.

“For being you” He said and watched as a beautiful smile opened in your face. It’s now or never Sam, do it, fucking do it.

He let go of your waist, still smiling at you. Sam had told you before that nothing was a better gift for him than having you in his life. He meant that. He meant every single word. So, yeah, Sam Winchester faked going for a run this morning. Sam Winchester actually went to pick up a ring he had ordered a week ago. Sam Winchester wasn’t actually sweaty, he had thrown water on his front strands to fake it because you were so smart to the point you’d notice that he didn’t go for a run if his hair was dry.

Sam Winchester was on his knees in front of you, a beautiful golden ring inside a velvet box in his hand.

You were frozen as tears started to well up, your eyes glossy. “Sam..”

“You’re one of the many reasons I’m still here” He began “You make every breath I take worth it, you turned my world upside down the moment I saw you, you make me aspire to be better every single day. I look at you and I see life, a future and the forever love of my life” He took a breath, the constriction in his throat wasn’t beating him now, it wasn’t going to stop him. “I can’t see myself without you anymore so, please, if you’d give me the pleasure…____ ____, will you marry me?”

Your heart was beating so fast and so loud you could feel it in your ears, tears were falling down your cheeks as Sam held your shaky hand in his. You’ve never felt happier, you’ve never wanted to scream this loud or cry this much. He was going to be the death of you.

“Yes!” You nodded aggressively, smiling wide “Yes, yes, God, a thousand times yes!”  You said loudly and Sam stood up with the intention of putting the ring around your finger but you just couldn’t hold back your happiness. 

As soon as he was up, you threw yourself at him, your arms around his neck and he almost lost his balance, swaying on his feet. You sobbed on his shoulder as he hugged you tight to him. You pulled back to look in his eyes and saw nothing but love, nothing but happiness and gave him a long kiss.

You pulled away and finally let him put the ring around your finger as you stared emotionally at it, the gold shining beautifully against your skin. When he looked at your face again he smiled, his dimples showing and his cheeks red.

“I was supposed to surprise you today” You said with feigned anger as you stared into his eyes. Sam shook his head and chuckled.

“I told you, there’s no gift I’d rather have than you”

“You’re so corny”

“You love it”

“Yeah, I love it…I love you”

“I love you” And he kissed you again, his hands holding your cheeks as if you were made of glass. You held his wrists to keep him there…Until the smell of something burning hit your nose and you pulled back with wide eyes.

“Oh Jesus Christ, the food!” You said desperately, turning around to turn the stove off. Sam just laughed at you, his fianceé, trying to swat the smoke away with your hand as you poured water over the brunt eggs. Yeah, best gift ever.

A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo

[francesderwent]

you know, for years I’ve either been primarily occupied with some past knot that I was trying to mentally unravel into what-might-have-beens and closure or with some imaginary future that I was painting in my head based on illusory signs. but lately I’ve been pretty securely ensconced in the present moment. occasionally I indulge in gazing back to look for the invisible string or peering around the corner to wonder what might be coming next, but mostly I’m just thinking about the now, and how happy I am in it. what’s on my mind is going for little walks, and washing the dishes while someone else dries.

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

to be added to a taglist

TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

[birdiewriteslit]

“so american”

nico hischier x f!reader

masterlist

inspired by “so american” by olivia rodrigo

warnings: fluff, kissing

can you tell i love nico in a hat

You were sitting in the passenger side of Nico’s car with your feet up on the dash. The window was down, and your arm was hanging out of it, the cool wind blowing your hair around your face.

It was spring, and the weather was just starting to feel like it. It had been cold for the past few weeks, and both you and Nico were happy to finally be able to enjoy semi-warm temperatures.

You loved driving around Jersey with Nico. You loved sneaking glances at him while he was too focused on the road to notice. You loved how warm his hand felt on your thigh. You loved how his t-shirt fit you and how it smelled like him. You also loved that he let you have aux privileges.

Nico frowned at you as one of your country songs came on the playlist. If his brown puppy dog eyes weren’t covered by his dark sunglasses, they would probably be enough to convince you to change the song.

You giggled at his displeasure, consoling him by lacing your fingers through his that rested on your thigh. He seemed to accept this, a small smile on his face as he shook his head.

He gave you one last once over before focusing on the road again. His smile grew wider. “You look so American.”

You let out a surprised noise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Nico shrugged. “You’re listening to country music, for one. I only ever see people’s feet on the dashboard in movies, very American.”

“You don’t do this in Switzerland? You don’t relax with your hand out the window like this?” you teased, making wave motions with your arm in the wind.

He laughed, squeezing your hand as he did so. “We relax. It’s just different here. I like your Americanness. I guess the exception is that you’re wearing a Swiss’s shirt, which you look very pretty in, by the way,” he said slyly, raising your hand to his lips to kiss it.

You felt your face heat up as you watched the smile that spread across his face as he pulled away. “God, Nico, don’t make me blush.”

But that’s really all he did, it was what he was best at. You knew he loved how flustered he could make you if he wanted to. He loved how after five months of dating, he could still easily make you nervous.

The next day, at brunch with your friends, you expressed your utter happiness, but at a table full of mostly single women, it wasn’t received the way you intended.

“I’m serious when I say that I have never seen a more attractive man in my life. Like, seriously, compare him to any celebrity crush you’ve ever had, and multiply that attractiveness by a thousand,” you babbled mindlessly to your friends, who were giving each other looks. “And, ugh, don’t get me started on his accent. It’s so hot, especially when he talks me through it.”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” your friend said, holding up her hand, a disgusted look on her face. “Frankly, it’s rude to talk about this during brunch. I mean, right in front of my french toast?” She gestured to her plate.

Another friend snorted. “I hate to say it, Y/n, but I agree. You literally only talk about him anymore. It’s like you’re gonna marry him.”

“I might,” you blurted.

Their eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Are you serious?”

You gave a small nod, suddenly uncomfortable by the amount of eyes one you. “I know it’s early but—“

“But you love him,” one of your married friends sighed. “It certainly sounds like you do,” she added after getting some looks from the other women at the table.

You didn’t respond, instead choosing to remain silent as the conversation steadily flowed away from you. You but the inside of your cheek, thinking about how you definitely loved Nico. You knew this before today, but with your history of failed relationships, you figured taking it slow with him was a good idea.

You weren’t lying about marrying him. If he kept this shit up, you were going to.

That night, you were lying in bed, eyes on the bathroom door, where Nico was on the other side. In your shorts and tank top, you were a little cold, and the top blanket wasn’t doing much for you.

When Nico slept over, you rarely made it under the covers. He naturally ran hot, and if you were covered by more than one blanket, you would literally overheat.

Finally, he came out of the bathroom. He was wearing a Devils t-shirt that was well worn and mostly likely from several seasons ago. He wasn’t wearing pants, his boxers out for you to ogle at, although you knew you shouldn’t.

Nico walked over to his side of the bed, stopping before he climbed under the blanket to pick up a book on your nightstand. You’d both read it and come to the conclusion that it was a waste of your good money.

“Why do you still have this?” he asked, showing you the cover. “I can’t believe your friend recommended it.”

“I like reading your notes. I think it’s cute how angry you get,” you admitted.

He set the book down and got into the bed, covering you with his body, instantly warming you up.

Wrapping his arms securely around you, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. He sighed into your skin, his warm breath fanning out and his stubble tickling you.

He placed small kisses up your neck, trailing along your jaw before capturing your lips with his. Between kisses, he said, “Missed you today.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Yeah?” you said, smiling against his lips. “I missed you.”

He pressed one last kiss to your lips before pulling away. He brought a hand up to your face, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, and stroking your face with his thumb. His lips parted, and his eyes were so big and brown that you genuinely felt like you could lose yourself in them.

“I wish you could come with us when we leave.” Nico was referring to an upcoming roadie. He would be gone for a week.

He was looking at you so sincerely, so vulnerably. “I’ll go anywhere you go,” you whispered.

You knew you couldn’t go with him. It wasn’t realistic. But with the way he was looking at you, you really couldn’t hold back from saying something so sappy.

He glanced down at your lips quickly before meeting your eyes again, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. “You would?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “I love you, Nico.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out.

“Sorry if it’s too soon. I know I’m in love with you,” you spoke quickly. “I don’t wanna just assume that you feel the same about all of it.”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you. When he pulled away, he kept his hands on your cheeks and looked at you meaningfully. “I’ve been wanting to say that for months. Trust me, I feel the same. I love you.”

Your face warmed as he looked deeply into your eyes. You surged forward to kiss him again. You peppered his whole face with kisses, and he laughed as he gripped your waist and flipped the two of you over so that you were on top of him.

He grinned at you when you pulled away, his cheeks rosy and his hair slightly messed. “I don’t think I’ll be getting much sleep tonight,” he said.

Your expression matched his perfectly. “I don’t think so either.”

Even though you didn’t confess that earlier that day, you’d thought about marrying him, this was still just as good.

[ateezscupid]

Could u make a fanfic for Hongjoong on aphrodisiacs???

﹟𝗛𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗬 𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗥𝗦 ⋆ 𝗄.𝗁𝗃 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

plot - hongjoong surprises you when he uses aphrodisiacs for the first time.

warn - smut and fluff, sub!hongjoong, soft dom!reader, aphrodisiacs, handjob, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms mentioned

w/c - n/a

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗦 - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13

“hongjoong, why are you so…fidgety?”

“no reason! i just, um, i’m kinda cold? it’s cold out here, i’m cold. can we go home? i wanna go home. the food here isn’t that great either and i-”

“joong, stop rambling!” you rub your forehead. “why do you wanna go home so bad, hongjoong?”

“i just told you! i-i’m cold and my legs are cold and everything’s cold, i wanna go home. i think we should go home. can we go home? i wanna go home—”

“it’s 78 degrees outside, hongjoong. it’s not cold at all.” you cross your arms. “fess up, something’s wrong.”

“i…” he sighs. “i can’t say it, it’s embarrassing.”

“it can’t possibly be that embarrassing. did you forget i literally threw up in front of you when we came back from seonghwa’s party a few months back? that had to have been the most embarrassing moment in my life. but you still stayed with me and held my hair back.”

“thats—it’s different.” he sighs. “mingi gave me these like…i don’t know, pills? he gave me these pills that he said i should take since i told him i thought—”

he pauses.

“because… you thought what? three years into our relationship, you can tell me anything.”

“i thought i wasn’t a good enough sex partner for you.” hongjoong whispers as he lowers his head. “i felt like… i don’t know. you’re just amazing and beautiful and i want to make you happy, but i don’t think i’m doing a good enough job.”

“what?” you almost laugh out of disbelief. hongjoong was the best boyfriend you’ve had ever. for him to think that and say it to your face almost made you laugh, only out of shock.

“joongie, you’re a great boyfriend. and you’re most definitely not bad at sex. i cant say all of the things you’ve been able to make me do since we are in public, but just know i wouldn’t give up anything in the world if it meant i had to lose you. you’re great at it, okay?”

“thanks, thanks…” he spoke quickly, shuffling and squirming around in his seat. “can we hurry home? i—i’m really… i can’t stand it, y/n. i feel like i’m gonna bust in my pants.”

“oh my god, joong, okay.”

“y/n y/n y/n, s-slow down, shit!” he hissed as he pushes his face in the crook of your neck. you he didn’t remember how many orgasms he’s had by now. two? three? it didn’t really matter how many he had, you weren’t letting him have any more.

“hm? you want me to what?” you kiss his temple and continue to move your hand, using your thumb to rub his slit whenever you made it back up.

“‘s good, it’s so so good,” his back arches. “i wanna—i need to cum, p-please…”

“joong, that would be your third time.” you say your continue moving your hand up and down his cock, squeezing tightly and making sure to play with his tip longer whenever you made it to the top. he kept squirming around in your hold, his body breaking apart at the seams.

“f-feels so good… s’good.” hongjoong moved, his thighs shaking and his mind going blank. it was like he was short circuiting. it felt so much better since he was still on the aphrodisiacs.

“i’m glad it feels good, joongie. you’re doing so well for me.” you whisper against his cheek, his back arching and everything inside of him breaking down. he was close, he could feel it. he wasn’t sure if he could continue asking for permission to cum anymore. it would feel that good, he needed to release it.

“c-can—can’t hold…h-hold it! y/n, please!” he whined desperately. “please let me c-cum, y/n please…”

“no, hold it.” you kept moving your hand, watching his face contort and hearing the pretty noises that left his mouth. all of his pretty whimpers and moans only made you want to ruin him even more. abruptly, you stop stroking him and push him back on the bed.

“w-why’d you stop! p-please, i’m so close,” he pulls you down. “i just wanna cum.” he kisses you all over your face, basically drowning you with pecks and love bites.

“joong, calm down! i’ll let you cum. but i want you to do it inside me.”

[raainberry]

Nighttime Serenade

« Silly Series - 14 »

Sana x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - quiet nights and cuddles, doesn’t get better than this

wordcount - 664

A/N - rain got me inspired, not proofread bc its late i can literally feel the bags coming to life under my eyes. enjoy!

The slight panic Sana felt when you shifted your body on top of hers… Her sleepy eyes were suddenly wide and alert as she thought about you leaving her embrace.

It was a frightening possibility. It had barely been an hour since you’d sneaked into her arms in search of some comfort after a long day, but it was getting late. If you wanted to get to bed, she’d understand although she wouldn’t be all for it.

Your presence, the warmth and love you gave her were things she missed all day. She hated when your free days didn’t line up, leaving her alone with only thoughts and cravings with your name on them. The hours between your lips on her forehead in the morning and your soft, gentle kisses on her cheek in the evening seemed to stretch into infinity.

Tomorrow was her turn to leave you behind for the day. She liked to think your clinginess tonight was motivated by that thought. She hoped the small strokes of your palm, the delicate touches of your fingertips against her skin was a way for you to appreciate the few hours you had left in her company.

Her eyes kept looking up at the time displayed right underneath the TV, and she had to hold herself back from laughing at her own behavior. How much more obsessed could she be… You were in her arms, as close as you could be, yet she was already missing you.

Her gaze slipped away from the screen to find you every once in a while. The sight of your head resting on her stomach put a smile on her lips. She couldn’t see why nor how it could be as comfortable as you claimed, but she’d never complain. Easy access to your hair, random kisses, your soft breathing against her skin whenever her clothing allowed it… why would she complain?

A small hum resonated from your chest as her fingers gently pulled on a few strands of your hair, brushing them out of your eyes. The gesture alone could put you to sleep if she did it long enough. That was exactly what you wanted to avoid, but it didn’t mean you wanted her to stop.

So you focused on the TV, suddenly remembering about its existence.

The variety show you’dsettled on out of laziness to switch channels turned out to be more perfect than anything you could have willingly picked. Entertaining enough to share a few laughs, each other’s favorite sounds, but not interesting enough to make you forget about this moment you wanted to cherish.

Sana’s occasional giggles caused your head to bounce a few times, and as much as you loved to see her happy, came a time where your comfort just wasn’t negligible.

You lifted yourself off of her, unknowing and oblivious to her dismay as you went to find rest against her chest.

Relief washed over her when she realised you weren’t going anywhere. She bit her smile back at the familiar feeling of your hair tickling her neck, and her arms wrapped themselves around your back. A sudden surge of love pushed her to squeeze you closer, and your view on the screen was now blocked as her cheek was squished against your forehead.

“I love you.” She mumbled, her voice just above a whisper. You smiled at the words. You couldn’t get over them, no matter how much she said them. Whichever way she let them out, whenever she let you know, they seemed to have the same effect on you.

Warmth, from your chest to your veins. One that put your heart at ease. Your mind at peace.

“I love you too.” You sighed out, content and hopeful of the words making her feel the same way.

Sana smiled at the serenity you’d granted her, and pressed her lips on top of your head in a soft peck before training her eyes back on the TV.

Hopefully the night hours will take their time, stretch out as much as the day’s had.

[twstowo]

Can I request for Ruggie trying to give a doughnut to the reader when they are upset/in a bad mood?(Reader is still upset at the personal problem they had and didn’t automatically cheer up but still thanked ruggie for giving them a doughnut💕?)

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: Reader is upset with their life problems so Ruggie tries to cheer them up with donuts.

♡︎ I feel like this is a paralel to the short fic I wrote of the reader feeding Ruggie.

♡︎Warning: None.

Today had been a terrible day, and maybe not just today but the whole week. Tests, Crowley being a pain, Ramshackle literally falling down—it seemed like everything was against you these past days.

You lowered your head into your hands, resting it there for a while as you sat down in the botanical garden, trying to have a moment for yourself since the place was empty. There was nothing like being surrounded by nature and its sounds. You felt somewhat relaxed, only to remember that it would be temporary; when you left the place, everything would come back. Damn, you had to overthink!

“Shyehe, look at you all sad.” Ruggie's voice made you jump, turning to look at his mocking expression. However, you didn't find the situation very funny. You sighed, closing your eyes and letting your body fall onto the grass, wishing it could consume you. For moments, you thought Ruggie had left you alone, as you hadn't heard any sound from him. You opened one of your eyes just to glance at the place where he stood minutes prior, only to find him gone. Maybe you should have said something to him, but the will to open your mouth and speak was nowhere to be found.

You woke up from your slumber as a bird landed on your forehead. In a state of shock, you noticed that it was already getting dark. Standing up, you sent the bird flying with some mad chirps. There was no way you had fallen asleep for such a long time. Your body hurt from sleeping on the floor, and you mentally noted to never do this again unless you wanted your back to hurt for the rest of the day.

You walked outside the botanical garden with a sleepy expression as you headed towards Ramshackle. But before you could get very far, you spotted Ruggie in the distance, coming towards you. He was holding a paper bag on his arms.

“Guess I’m still on time, you can have these.” He handed you the bag as you stared at him with a tired expression. “C’mon! Before I change my mind and eat the rest.” You looked inside the bag, spotting some donuts. You weren’t expecting Ruggie to be sharing his favorite delicacy with you. Sure, the two of you started sharing food some time ago, but Ruggie always made it clear that his donuts were completely out of the question as he loved them way too much. Was this is way of trying to cheer you up?

“…Thank you.” Even if you felt happy that he had done such a selfless thing for you, it didn’t seem to reflect in your words as you thanked him. You mentally facepalmed yourself as you watched him scratch the back of his head, fully noticing it. “Sorry, I’m just feeling down…” You were sure he had already seen that. It didn’t take much to notice your distant attitude in the past days. You had been slowly falling apart, with your group of friends becoming more and more distant. But that wasn’t something you wanted. You wanted start some conversation with Ruggie. As you watched his eyes slowly lose focus on you, you realized you didn’t want him to also leave you. That's when you remembered something. “I heard Leona slipped in the school hallways yesterday.” You watched as Ruggie started laughing so hard that he had to hold on to his abdominals, they were hurting so much.

“Y/N, you missed it all!” He placed his arm around your shoulder as the two of you started walking towards Ramshackle. “Let me tell you everything!” and the two of you spent the rest of the day together. You could have never thanked Ruggie enough.

[chrollohearttags]

i just feel like influencer y/n really healed rapper eren's inner child. like she's just so sweet to him and so lovey dovey and goofy to him. he loves her so much and is grateful to whatever superior being for bringing her into his life. idk just thinking about that makes me smile. 🤭

ughhh!! No like you do not understand the smile this brought to my face bro 😭 when i tell you that this is literally my all time fav ship…like thank you for this 🥹

content warning: mentions of anxiety, lore for reverb, angst (?), fluff

because in all honestly, even though he loved music more than life itself, EJ still had a big void in his life. He had Mika and Armin for a little while and his family but there wasn’t a single person in his life that he truly felt completely and wholly connected to. That he could let his guard down with. He struggled with social anxiety and cues bad. His mom worried about him constantly worry about him and if he’d be okay. Sometimes, when he was younger, he’d get so overwhelmed trying to express himself that he’d either get angry or become hysterical and cry. Music seemed to be the only way he could truly let it out; with anger, happiness, sadness..he really couldn’t convey his message through words or even actions. So it came as no surprise that he grew up to be emotionally void. He hated long conversations, idle chit chat and being around people that didn’t match his energy. Even with his own friends, he can only take them in small increments.

it wasn’t until he met (y/n) that he finally had someone who understood him. Somebody that, despite all that you had been through always smiled and done what you could to help him do the same. Even on your first official date, you ran barefoot across the beach at night, hand in hand because you’d never been allowed to do that as a kid. You didn’t care who saw or how you looked, you were happy as could be. Ironic considering that most of the girls from Instagram were so snobby and stuck up, all they could do was stand in the club with scowls on their faces. You on the other hand would dance around with him as if no one was watching. You didn’t judge him when he became upset that a project wasn’t working out in his favor. You’d simply give him a hug, tell him to take a break and try it again. “Stop being so hard on yourself, okay? You can do this.” Always affirming and reassuring him. Even when the two of you would stay up having late night talks and he’d confide in you about aspects of his life that no one else knew. About things he had to go through to get where he was or how he sometimes felt like he wasn’t enough. You’d notice the faintest hint of sadness in his tone or eyes and reach for his hand, holding it to comfort him. He’d never experienced the unconditional love that he’d heard people talking about until you came along. Beforehand, he felt as though nothing was left for him…he felt hollow and lonely. Wondering if anything existed for him outside of his raps and work. Now? He was free to loosen up, laugh and do everything that he’d missed out on while trying to make his dream a reality. Like going to the roller rink on Saturday night, skating along to some love song or going on late night drives and stargazing. Or even just cracking childish jokes on each other or playing little pranks. There’s never a moment where he’s not smiling when you’re around. He’s the happiest he’s ever been 🥹

[coolnameloading]

Lute x Fem! Reader Part 2

Part 2 of Lute x Sinner Reader story yaaaay

Over the last few months, the hotel has been in what you can only describe as organized chaos. The hotel gained a new resident in Sir Pentious who was a spy for the Vee’s and then wasn’t or something. Charlie reassured you constantly that Pentious was not working for the Vee’s anymore and you had nothing to worry about.

But those sick fucks have been chasing you for longer than any of the other overlords so you’d rather be more safe than sorry. 

After that particular event, you started to feel less safe in the hotel. 

You heard Vox, he tried to infiltrate the only place where you’ve felt safe since you got to the literal hell hole and he tried to send in a fucking spy who Charlie just let walk in instantly after he had attacked the hotel twice.

Who knows what would have happened to you….all of you if Angel Dust hadn’t seen him planting those stupid cameras? 

You love Charlie, she’s nice and she gave you a place to stay. Being mad at her is like being mad at a puppy but all you could keep thinking about for the rest of the month was wondering if Vox saw you.

If the Vee’s know where you are.

If they’ll come looking for you.

What they might do to you if they do catch you.

You had a close call with Velvette one time and one time was enough for the rest of your afterlife. Bitch tried to color-match your fucking fur! You’re pretty sure the only reason you got away was because she was drunk off her British ass.

Vaggie could tell right away that there was something wrong with you and tried to reassure you.

“He didn’t see you Chesh”

She whispered approaching you slowly. 

“You don’t know that boss! What if he did? He could be on his way right now with the other two and he already beat the radio demon once! I need to lea-”

Vaggie cut off your rant by placing her hand on your shoulder gently and pushing you down to sit on the couch.

“Charlie and I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. We promised when you started staying here that we’d keep you safe and we will. You don’t need to run.”

“Thanks, boss… I’m sorry for freaking out. It just really shook me up, I guess.”

You mumbled out, blushing at how pathetic you sound. 

You may not remember much about your life but you’re pretty sure you died sometime in your 20’s. Yet here you are whimpering pathetically and having to get comforted over a fucking video camera. 

After that incident you became more jumpy, every sound put you on edge, and it was worse whenever you were around any form of technology that didn’t look like it was from before the 1980s.

The others tried their best to calm you down in their own ways. Angel Dust started leaving his phone in his room because you’d flinch every time he got a text or phone call from Valentino. 

“Don’t make a big deal outa it, he was annoying me too.”

Husk would keep your favorite booze on standby at all times, when you’d thank him he’d simply grin at you and say, 

“Us feline demons got to stick together.”

Alastor was happy to throw out any and every piece of technology that would make you tense up even slightly, which included most of Pentious’ weapons and very nearly his airship. 

He obviously wasn’t doing it for you but it still felt nice.

“Don’t worry my friend! I’ll happily get rid of these infernal contraptions! I’ve always believed they lacked class anyway.”

Pentious recognized his part in your new-found anxiety and tried to gain your trust by handing his machines to Alastor with many, many, many tears.

“I am more than happy to…give up my arsenal as an apology for invading your persssssonal boundariessss.” He’d hissed out while trying to hold his tears back.

You couldn’t really be mad at him after that.

Nifty even volunteered to go out and ‘hunt phones’ for you.

You said no but that didn’t stop her from bringing you the….remains of some people’s phones.

 “Sometimes I kill mother phones in front of their children as a warning to the other phones!”

“Niffty phones don’t have mothers.”

“Hehe, not anymore…”

Charlie was actually very happy to see how the others stepped in to help you and she was very proud of them even if their methods were…unorthodox.

But that lead her into a spiral. She was desperately trying to figure out why the hotel wasn’t working even though everybody showed considerable improvement.

This leads to her talking with her dad, which somehow leads to you being here in heaven.

“Um, boss why exactly am I here?”

You ask Vaggie nervously, glancing around at the pastel clouds around you. God you haven’t seen pastels in years.

Vaggie looks over at you and sighs, “Well Charlie figured you wouldn’t want to go out with the others and you wouldn’t like to stay in the hotel alone so this was the best option.”

You nod, understanding her point but on the other hand.

“And the…exorcists?”

Vaggie’s shoulders tense for a moment before she looks away from you and mumbles, “I have a feeling they won’t do anything even if we do run into them.”

You want to ask more questions but decide against it, today was stressful enough as it is without you asking stupid questions. 

“Whatever you say, boss.”

You whisper following behind Vaggie and Charlie as they enter the gates of heaven after another fucking song. 

Is it just you? Are you the weird one? Should you be singing more often?

The three of you follow behind the two seraphim, Emily and Sera, while they give you a tour of heaven. Charlie looks completely enamored by the place but Vaggie looks annoyed, as if the pastel clouds had offended her personally.

And you…well honestly you feel a little underwhelmed.

Heaven looks like a glorified mall so far, a mall with strippers because there are way more people walking around shirtless than you thought there would be. 

So you keep trailing behind Vaggie, Charlie, and the angels when you see someone who looks familiar.

She’s a cat demon like you, same color pallet and everything, except she seems much shorter and has a pair of pastel-blue angel wings coming out of her back.

You end up drifting away from the group and start following the small cat angel through the crowds. 

Eventually, you get close enough to reach out and tap her but when you’re about to get her attention you feel a firm hand on your shoulder and you get pulled away roughly and pinned to one of the walls.

You’re completely disoriented for a moment and then you hear a familiar annoying voice.

“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in.”

You look up to see Adam and Lute, Adam has a wide smirk on his face and Lute looks….wow.

She’s not wearing her helmet so this time you get to admire her completely.

You’d probably be happier about her pinning you to a wall if she wasn’t also holding a giant spear to your neck.

Then again…-

Yeah, it’s still pretty hot.

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 5

I don’t know why this fic wrecked me so much. I’m literally the author. I know what’s gonna happen. I decided what’s gonna happen. Maybe I’m just tired. also does anyone remember that time I said I hated writing chaptered fics and swearing that each one was an anomaly/the last time I’d ever do it?

table of contents you’re still everything to me

Jamie Tartt is in your kitchen, puttering around so he can make a pot of tea and with an eyebrow slit like it’s 2013 again.

He sent you to go change so you slip on sweatpants and curl up on the sofa.

“Here you are, love,” he says, setting the tea down on the coffee table. He sits on the opposite end of the sofa, a respectable distance away.

“Why didn’t I see you?” you ask, staring out the window. The room is illuminated by the streetlight glow from the kitchen.

“How d’you mean?” responds.

“I visited mum last year. I was there all day. Why didn’t I see you?”

Jamie pauses. “I went early.”

“No, no you didn’t. There weren’t any flowers when I got there, and you said you brought her flowers.”

He’s quiet long enough for you to turn and check if he’s even still in the room.

He is.

“I… saw you,” he says eventually. “Didn’t think we’d be there at the same time, but-” he raises an eyebrow as punctuation. “Anyway, I was behind a tree. Saw you sit down and at first I thought I’d just wait in the car, but you started crying and- and I didn’t know if I should say somethin’ or leave. Did neither, so I just stayed. Placed the flowers and paid my respects once you left.”

You sip your tea in silence.

After a long time you say, “I’m glad you didn’t say anything.”

“She always believed in me,” he says by way of reply. “Even when I was being a little shit, she still made me feel like she wanted me around. Three people I want to make proud the most were her, mummy, and you.”

“Wanted,” you correct. “Wanted to make proud. Mum’s gone, and we’re not even friends.”

“D’you think we ever could be?”

You consider. There’s a part of you that feels like you’re friends already. He’s in your flat for fuck’s sake. 

“I don’t know,” you say. “Honestly I don’t. I’ve only ever loved you, Jamie, and for a long time I couldn’t see the future without you. I still can’t see it, I’m just living day-by-day sometimes.”

He chews his lip. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s asking all the hard questions tonight.

“I don’t hate you anymore,” you say frankly. “You were there for me when I needed you, and you leaving me was the worst. But it turned out good. And, I dunno, over the last few days I just keep wondering what’s gonna stop you from leaving again? Deciding you want someone else more, or my value means less?”

“Maturity.” He says it slightly drawn out, enunciating the consonants. He has a hint of a smile, which is stupid, because now you have one too.

“Seriously, though, I’m not like that anymore. Went of, was a prick, and it were shit. I’ve never heard mum that mad at me, Jesus Christ. Swore my ear off, she did. Didn’t have real friends, wasn’t happy, drank a lot of vanilla vodka. Keeley broke up with me for cheating on her, too, but not with sex, like; just on a date. Said shit about accountability.” 

He says it the same way he said maturity. 

“Hm,” you say. What else is there to say, really?

“Hm,” you say again as you reach to set your tea down and move to the other end of the couch so you’re pressed up against Jamie’s side.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Stay the night?” you whisper. “I don’t want to be alone and I have a guest bed.” 

Jamie nods.

—

It’s 3am, and you wake up with the sound of your mum saying your name still echoing in your room. You’d been dreaming, showing her the life you’d created and she’d smiled the whole time. She wasn’t wispy, she was the same mum who kicked a football with Jamie, sang horribly off-key with Simon, and convinced Georgie to even give him a chance in the first place. 

Tears pool in the corner of your eye.

I am not drowning. I can do this.

There’s a light tap on the door. “Come in,” you croak.

Jamie pushes it open and sticks his head in. “You’re crying,” he states. “Woke up a minute ago feeling shitty.”

You pat the bed and roll over.

Jamie climbs in under the covers and reaches tentatively for your hand. You let him take it.

“Just because I’m emotionally fragile does not mean that I forgive you,” you tell him tearfully. “I’m just pretending you never left and everything’s fine so I’m not going to hate myself for letting you into my room and letting you see me cry.”

“Alright,” he whispers. “C’mere. We’ll forget about it in the morning.”

You both move closer under the covers. You blame sleep and grief for the kiss you press to his clavicle, and you’re sure you’re dreaming they way he murmured, “How the fuck did I ever leave you?”

—

Jamie is true to his word. He doesn’t say a word when you wake up, just extricates himself from your hold and goes downstairs.

“I’ll be here for today,” he tells you once you drag yourself out of bed. “After that, you can decide how you feel about me. You don’t have to think about it today.”

It’s a four-hour drive to Manchester, and you’re not sure when it was decided that a) Jamie was coming with you, or b) that he’d be the one driving. He stops to pick up breakfast and coffee and doesn’t say a word about eating in his fancy car. You stare out the window and let the music playing over the speakers flow over you. It’s still raining, less than last night but still heavily. 

You grip Jamie’s hand with white knuckles and cry, truly cry in a way you only allow once a year but this time, there’s a new component.

I could’ve had this, you think. You and Jamie, together.

Something new tugs at your chest and you turn to look at Jamie. Tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he’s sniffling a but, trying not to let it show. 

You readjust in your seat so you’re leaning against his arm, and he tilts his head to rest on yours for a fraction of a moment. 

—

Your mum’s place is the same as it always is. Her name, printed in rounded letters. The dates, signifying that she did not spend enough time here. You place down your blanket and sit, back against the headstone as usual with your head tilted up to the sky. Jamie stands a good distance away, just watching with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Hi mum,” you begin, voice cracking. “Um, I’m sorry I don’t get up here much. But that’s what kids do, right? Leave the nest and only visit on holidays. 

Things are going well still. I’ve gotten offers for collabs with some brands, so I guess that’s cool. Jamie’s here, he’s by the tree though. I don’t- I don’t know what to do about it, mum. I wish you were here. You always saw things clearer than any of us, and I just don’t know. Turns out I didn’t ever stop loving him. Keeley thinks we have this weird cosmic connection or something. Do you believe in that? I think you might have. 

I- I think we’re going to see Georgie and Simon after this. I don’t really know. I haven’t been thinking straight today, you know. I just miss you.  I want to hug you again and I promise I’m okay on my own, it’s just hard sometimes. I thought- I thought-”

You’re unable to get the rest of the words out. It’s fucking sunny out and it feels wrong, like the world should remember this is a day to mourn a soul who should’ve been around longer. The sky should at least have the decency to cry along with you. 

A hand touches your face to wipe away a tear. You wrap your arms around Jamie’s neck and he just holds you for a minute, an hour, a year. Time might be passing but you’re unaware of it. He’s whispering in your ear, saying, “I’ve got you, it’s alright love, take as much time as you need,” but it’s only sounds to you. Sweet sounds, but not comprehensible words. 

It’s safe, here. It shouldn’t be, here on your mother’s grave with your cheating ex-boyfriend in your arms, but it doesn’t feel like that. 

It feels more like you’ve finally arrived home after years of travel. 

Jamie feels the same as he did before he made it to the Premier League, back when he’d nick flowers from a garden and climb through your window late at night, not like the prideful boy who broke your heart in five minutes over the phone. 

“I’m here as long as you need,” he murmurs, and you believe him. 

You pull away slightly to look him in the face. “I love you,” you say. 

He smiles, but only with his eyes as he swipes a thumb under your eye. “I love you too,” he says. “Don’t think I ever really stopped.”

It’s at that exact moment that the sun disappears behind a cloud and it begins to rain. 

table of contents

[foreverinadais]

summary: steven ‘accidently’ messages you after you’ve broken up.

pairings: ex! steven grant x ex! reader, allusions to ex! marc and ex! jake as well

warnings: literally just angst :( and very minimal cussing

word count: 870 words

a/n: sooo this is the first small part of a series based on ex! moon boys. will have everything from angst, angst and angst, to pining, forced close proximity and hopefully fluff!!! enjoy :) 

ex! series: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

Surely it was an accident.

The message shone on your screen, illuminating a small portion of your dark room that the sun had not yet reached, eyes squinting with the unwelcoming light. You had blinked once, twice, harshly, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes to ensure this wasn’t a cruel trick your mind was playing.

But it was still there.

Hi.

The message was so simple, a single word. But your heart was pounding, and your mouth was dry. You could imagine him saying it. Could still feel the warm embrace of his breath against the top of your head as he whispered the word, and you knew you were home.

Steven had messaged you. But why?

Maybe it was an emergency. Maybe he was in danger. Had to act like everything was normal and the only person he could think to message was, well, you. Or maybe he was drunk. It wasn’t like him to get drunk when he had control of the body, but you didn’t know him anymore. Perhaps he had completely changed. perhaps he wasn’t the Steven you fell in love with anymore.

The thought made you sick.

But another nagging in your brain pulled you back. Maybe he had meant to send it, completely sober. Maybe he was as desperate for you as you were for him. Maybe this was an opening.

Or maybe it was an accident.

You didn’t know which was worse.

You looked at the message a few minutes more, fingers ghosting over the keypad. What could you even say? How could you even articulate your thoughts into just a short message?

Hey, Steven, how are you?

Why’d you message?

Do you still love me?

Sometimes I think I see you in the street but it’s not you and every tiny thing reminds me that no one could ever be you and that your not in my life anymore…

You stopped drafting messages, huffing in frustration as you deleted all you had typed. It was hopeless. You were hopeless.

Should you even reply? Just ghost him, his message, like he was never the man you thought you were going to spend your life with?

You thought about the others, about Jake and Marc, about how they would be cursing him if they found out. Unless it was their idea, too. Unless they all missed you like you craved them.

But your thoughts pulled you back to Steven. Of his trembling fingers and beating heart as he types the simple word. You thought about how nervous he might’ve been. How he was probably feeling like you were now.

You exhaled shakily, finally typing out a message, closing your eyes as you hit send.

Hey, is everything okay?

The question invited conversation; you were well aware. But you were desperate to feel some of him, grab onto every last morsel he would give you. Even if that was just his words through a screen.

You laid still, phone resting on your chest, rising with every heavy breath you took to try and ease your rapid heartbeat. A few minutes passed until it buzzed. You nearly screamed, stomach dropping as you jumped, phone clattering to the floor. “Shit!”

You all but scrambled onto the ground, grabbing your phone, unlocking it and turning to look at it. Sure enough, it was Steven.

Sorry, accident.

You all but felt everything inside of you deflate, felt the heavy weight of just two words settle on your shoulders as you sighed. Of course. You rested your head back on your mattress, eyes shutting as you tried to hold back tears. Of course.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steven groaned as he pressed send, rubbing his eyes in frustration. “Happy now?” He said to his alter through the reflection of the bathroom mirror. He could hardly meet his eyes.

“Of course not, you know that. But it’s the right thing to do.” Steven couldn’t help but scoff, throwing the phone on the counter so that it made a clunk.

“It was just a message. Hardly anythin’ wrong with that.”

“Steven.” And the word was enough to have him quiet. Well, for a moment.

“I can’t keep doing this. It just… it hurts too much-”

“I know.” His alter agreed, looking to the ground. “I know.”

Steven didn’t regret the message until the morning. Until you texted back. He could imagine the turmoil you went through when you read it and instantly felt guilty. He hated himself for having to shut you down. For having to lie. It hurt him more than he could even express.

He looked at the small read next to his message, realised you weren’t saying anything else today. Perhaps you would never say anything to him again. Perhaps this was it. An accidentally on purpose message and an unanswered question.

Sighing, Steven locked the phone, put it in the cupboard, and threw himself into bed. Resting his head on the mattress as if it was too heavy for his body, too full of the thoughts of you.

He felt everything inside of him deflate, felt the weight of just two words crush his shoulders. And just one thought swirled through his mind as he drifted off too sleep: I can’t keep doing this.

[aloesarchives]

JJK Drabble #3

Head empty with no thoughts other than thinking about in my “Toji Lives” AU, Reader/you has only imagined a life with Toji and ONLY Toji. It’s to a point that you never seen a future without him or have one with anyone else that wasn’t him. Because if not, your life wouldn’t be like what it is now…which meant you wouldn’t have Megumi nor Tsumiki if you haven’t met Toji.

Anyway, someone randomly mentions how there’s a possibility that in an alternate universe/timeline you and Toji wouldn’t be in love, married, and have a family. Stabbing the knife in your heart even further by mentioning Toji might have another family with another woman with Megumi as their only child. Furthermore, not only isn’t Toji not your husband in another universe/time but he would have another life without you in it.

The thought of in another reality Toji isn’t with you, has another family which also means Megumi and Tsumiki are not your children…Fuck, it hurts you so much to think about such a concept.

What makes it worse is that reality IS POSSIBLE and CAN HAPPEN(referring to the canon timeline).

So now, you’ve become high-key depressed and heartbroken because you are now overthinking about the idea your little family isn’t yours. The more you imagine that prospect, the more your overthinking thoughts make your heart throb with pain as an icy chill washes over you. Numbing you to your current reality that THEY are your FAMILY in this universe/timeline. But your head was too focused and wrapped up that it’s slowly kills your happiness.

Literally everybody is worried about you because this is the most devastated they’ve seen you at all. Satoru and Suguru hunted down the idiot who thought it was a good idea to even say something or gave that idea to you. Everyone else is trying to cheer you up but you brush it and tell them not to worry, which makes them even more worried about you.

Tsumiki and Megumi were the most concerned because that’s their mama who’s so heartbroken and it hurts them to see you so down in the dumps like that. And knowing their mama, the only other person that could get to you that either of them is their one and only papa, Toji. So the kiddos tell Toji your heartbroken state and how worried they are even after trying to make you feel better.

Toji is literally the last resort hope. He goes and finds you, having a pre-occupied stare and looking extremely out of it. He doesn’t want to startle you so he comes up behind you with a gruff but soft “Hey Doll”. Placing his hands on your shoulder and back so you can face him. Rubbing them in a comforting manner.

“Hey, heard you weren’t feeling yourself today? You think you could tell me what’s got you so down?”

You don’t say anything, but the way your eyes start to water and your bottom lip trembling gave it away. Toji would have gently coaxed you on so he can understand what’s got you like this. Then suddenly, you wrapped your arms around Toji’s neck, pulling him into a tight hug. The man doesn’t questioned it and holds you tightly, knowing you need it because he can tell you weren’t ready to tell what’s wrong yet. For some time, Toji lets you hold him tightly because he knows it brings you comfort and eases your stress.

“Anata…Do you think in another life…We would still be together…?”

The way your voice teetered of uncertainty and softness, and that nickname used you for him… Now he has a general idea of what made you so heartbroken because “Anata” is a nickname only reserved for Toji when it’s only you and him alone and either both of you are vulnerable.

“I don’t know for certain, Hon. I’d hope so every time…But I do know is in this lifetime, I will always find you and love ya to the end of my days. An’ remember, Tsumiki and Megumi are here with us too. Your family is here with you, (Y/N). We love you, don’t forget that, please…”

And that was enough to break the spell that held your mind captive. You ease up, calming down, pulling away slightly from your dear, loving, handsome husband. Looking at him so fondly and with much love.

Toji SMILES back at you, cupping your face gently with his callous hand. Using his thumb to softly wipe away the stray tear that fell from your pretty eyes. Leaning into his hand, holding it with both your own. You relish in Toji’s strong but gentle hold, his warmth always brought you great solace in ways no one else can.

Everyone sighs in relief, knowing you’re in a better mood and returning back to your regular self. Especially Megumi and Tsumiki, there’s something about seeing you genuinely smile and looking at their dad with such tenderness they know is only reserved for Toji and him alone that makes them smile to themselves and sigh in relief. The two of them walk up to you and Toji to which you opened your arms out to your children. Tsumiki and Megumi will never deny a hug from you so they go in and you hugged them both tightly against you, kissing their foreheads while saying loving affirmations to your children.

Toji smiles at his family before joining in on the hug, wrapping his huge muscular strong arms around you three. Basking in your husband and kids warmth, you didn’t know why you hyper-focused on the ‘what ifs’ of possible realities when this one you were living in, with your husband and kids, is YOUR current reality. So why fuss over the others when you have this one which is the one you wanted.

If there’s a possibility for them to not be your family in other realities, wouldn’t that mean there are possibilities where they’ll be your family too in other realities/timelines/universes too?

Bonus: Toji asks Satoru and Suguru if he can join them in ganging up on the person who did this to you. Man wasn’t letting anything slide if you were put into a distressed and/or heartbroken state.

——————————————————————————

Tags w/ links:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife

Tags w/o links:

@szillx @SleppyAnn @g0th1xac1d @kneelarhmstrung

——————————————————————————

I literally wrote this on my phone late at night because it was keeping me wide awake lol. Sorry for the sloppy rushed formatting!

[jeanbie]

WORDLESS #5 ★ masterlist.

pairing: levi x reader

genre: sugar daddy & contract killer au | warnings: implied violence, establishing feelings, mentions/references to john wick & the continental | wc: 6.8k

note: who expected me to actually finish this? (answer: no one) i'm so glad that i got to finish "wordless" and put these two losers in a place they deserve to be in! this chapter is the finale and also almost entirely from levi's pov, and this one flows in a chronological order :)

★ ch1. ch2. ch3. ch4. ch5

⏤ Sometimes, saying “I love you” is inappropriate, and given your circumstances, you think it might send Levi over the edge if he hears them again. But maybe he's ready now.

(41) Giving them space when they express wanting to have some time alone.

It’s been a hot second since Levi saw you — and it’s killing him more than he’d care to admit.

Since the blow up in the shower over girls he wasn’t fucking in the first place, Levi hasn’t heard from you, and he hasn’t made much of an effort to reach out either.

Why did he even lie? There was no benefit from telling you he was seeing other girls; the only reason he said that so often was to manage the healthy boundaries between you, to remind you not to get too close, to remind himself that being with you is a risk.

Not that pushing you away has made his life any easier. On the contrary, he thinks it’s made everything worse.

It is almost dehumanising to admit it to himself, but he misses you. Since your rather unconventional first meet — which was a far cry from any ‘meet cute’ that normal situationships had — Levi has been telling himself that the circumstances surrounding you being in his life were unique at best, and that you weren’t permanent.

But now, he lives his life around a ghost of your body, making room for you in his home, making time out of his schedule, making arrangements to keep you happy. 

Okay. Maybe it’s a little bit too late to acknowledge the feelings he has for you. Levi knows they’re there — he’s not an idiot. But making those feelings real is something he just can’t afford to do. Not yet. Not while there’s too much going on in his life.

Still, he stares longingly at the door every night when he staggers back home, as if hoping you might take him by surprise and crawl back into his arms. Not that you do, at least not for a while; not until Levi grows fed up of waiting and finds you first.

But for now, he’ll grant you he space that you need, the space you deserve. And in the meantime, he’ll try and make peace with the waging war in his head.

(42) Holding their hand while walking, even if there isn’t a crowd.

“This is nice.”

The neighbourhood Levi now lives in is much smaller than the last one. It pales in comparison to the condo it took forever to finally move out of, but having consistent security breaches just for a tiring view of the river didn’t feel worth it for Levi anymore. It made no difference to him if the apartment he all but owns for you is much farther away — you’re barely ever there, anyway.

Since putting his angst to rest, and since making it known to you that you’re quite literally the only woman he likes enough to keep buying houses for and invite over, things have been calm between you.

There’s still a strange unspoken thing, the remains of an agreement made out of convenience so long ago, to feed both the lust and pride Levi wanted and the safety you craved; but in general, Levi acknowledges that what he has with you right now feels like the closest thing he’s had to a partner in a long, long time.

Levi looks over at you, feeling your hand tighten in his as you cross a cute little park covered in flowery bushes and beds of tulips. 

“I’m glad my neighbourhood has your stamp of approval,” he replies, tightening his fingers around yours before pulling up slightly to stuff your joined hands into his pocket. Though it’s spring now, there’s still a bite in the air, a chill that Levi is determined to shelter you from.

“Technically,” you start, and Levi can predict, like a robot, what you’ll say next, and mouths the words as they fall from your lips, “it’s mine, too.” Your eyes turn piercing as you scowl at him, “Hey! Don’t…predictive text me.”

“Then stop being so predictable.”

“I think we spend too much time together,” you mutter, looking back at the flowerbed you’re currently passing by.

Levi scoffs to himself and playfully scratches a nail against the hand lodged in his pocket.

“Then go away,” he says. No chance, is what runs through his head, and the coy smile you flash him is as equally predictable as the word he knows you’ll say next, starting with n and ending in o.

(43) Holding shopping bags that are too heavy for them.

Ever since Levi figured out how to share locations, he’s become obsessed with watching you move around on the map on his phone. Numerous times, he’s slipped up on spending hours watching your little circle move, sometimes not even moving at all.

If you had any complaints, he hasn’t heard them, though he very much doubts that you’ll complain in the future now that his stalking has worked out in your favour.

You might have initially thought that bumping into Levi outside the supermarket was a rather delightful coincidence — that was until he moved across the city, and has no real business in your area unless it concerns you.

“Perfect timing,” you say once you see him crossing the small car park in your direction. He has half a mind to pretend he hasn’t seen you and keep walking, but watching you struggle with your shopping is painful enough.

He grunts, reaching for the bag that is squeezing the blood from your fingers. “Don’t get proud about it.”

Sniggering, you happily let Levi grab the overweight bags and fall into an even step beside him. 

“Why do you have so much stuff?” Levi huffs. To be fair, the bags aren’t that heavy, but he can’t see any reason for you to have bought so much considering you live at his house more often than you do your own. “You gonna share this shit?”

“If you want,” you reply. “You paid for it.”

His tongue clicks. Levi hasn’t paid you a penny since he last felt guilty about the fact he rarely paid you, despite that being the very foundation of your relationship in the first place, but even with what he paid you and hasn’t since that point, he knows your bank account is more than comfortable. Paying for all of this has barely made a dent, but that’s what the money’s there for.

He makes his way to his car pulled up outside the car park turning in a layby and struggles in his pocket for his keys.

“I live five minutes away,” you remind him, steps slowing. 

“No, you just said you’d share it, so we're going to mine.”

With a sigh, you’re left with no other choice but to follow him to his car. “You know, the romance of you carrying my bags is lost now you’ve only walked it to the car.”

Before he pops open the boot of the car, he turns to you and sneers, “You want me to walk back and let you do it yourself?”

There’s no argument to be had. You get into the car.

(44) Standing between them and a busy road.

Habits. Levi hates to keep track of how many he’s developed since you entered his life almost two years ago. Time has gone by so quickly since the day he first met you, in the worst way possible, but since then, he’s transformed into a whole new person, a whole new paranoid man who overthinks everything because there’s no other option.

His habits as of late include worrying about you whenever you’re not around — whenever he’s at work, he’ll think of you. Whenever he’s in a different city or country, Levi will obsessively worry over what you might be doing, who might be on your trail, scenting your every move while you’re vulnerable. Another habit includes feeling like an overbearing parent even when he’s in the same five mile radius, but at least he’s self aware of it.

If you’ve noticed Levi becoming more clingy, less like who he swore he’d never change from, you haven’t mentioned it yet. Perhaps a small mercy to save him the mortifying task of admitting that he has feelings stored away for you. 

Today, Levi has fallen victim to his habits of worry and has walked himself all the way to your university just to walk you all the way back home. His home, not yours. In a sense, your home, too. In an unspoken way.

Levi stands waiting for you in the overhang, gaze trained on the thick grey sky until he hears your class file out of the building in a chatter. Sasha is who he sees first, followed by another one of your friends he’s never met but has seen on Instagram once or twice, and then he sees you, looking thankfully in good spirits, and all too beautiful for your own good.

When you see him standing with his hands in his pockets, he allows himself the pleasure of pride when you break away from your friends just to join him, the smile on your face so genuine and radiant that he has to scoff in amusement.

“Hey, you,” you call, falling into his arms. 

“Hey, yourself.”

“I didn’t know you were coming today,” you confess, pulling away to stare curiously at his withdrawn expression. Levi is already twisting an arm around your waist to walk you down the step and across the lawn. “I told Sasha I’d go to her café and wait for her shift to end. Didn’t you have that thing today?”

“What thing?” he mutters.

“The thing with Erwin. And some deadbeat called George, or something.”

“How many Korean men do you know named George?” Levi deadpans, though his arm does tighten around you in caution. “You shouldn’t even know about that. How do you even know?”

The busy road widens into view as you leave the closed campus. Levi’s pretty much counting the days before you graduate and never have to come here again, and the time is passing strangely slow in that department. It feels like it’s been ages since you enrolled, and he wants nothing more than for you to leave and become the greatest journalist in the world — or whatever it is you even want to do when you’re done. 

As you walk, you lean into Levi’s side, furthering the distance between yourself and the road bustling with cars and buses. He frowns.

One of your habits since the accident on the bridge with your family had been to avoid busy roads, as if convinced something might happen again. You’ve told him numerous times that it’s irrational, but Levi doesn’t think so. It’s a very normal thing to feel afraid of everything, even when those things are a little on the unrealistic side.

Naturally, it results in Levi sliding his arm from around your waist and replacing it with his other one, positioning himself between you and the chaotic lines of commuting cars going home.

His heart flips when you smile at him for it, linking your arm around his while moving your waist out of his grip. Levi tries not to let it get to his head how much you trust him, how much he cares for you. But by the minute, he’s losing the will to keep it hidden.

(45) Rubbing the back of their hand with a thumb.

Back to habits, there are some that Levi has that he’s not particularly as proud of. But, as expected, you’re as good as it gets, and any habit he thinks he might have gotten away with hiding, somehow you pick up on it.

Levi flicks through a blueprint laying flat over his kitchen table, his hands nervously drumming the edge of the tabletop as he tries to memorise the elaborate labyrinth of a building he’ll be breaking into later to find his next hit. Usually, Levi has you at his home before and just after taking a job, just to eliminate the threat of you being hurt as a punishment. 

He wishes that the company gave you unrestricted entry and protection without him being there to clear it, but in order for that privilege, Levi needed to address you as his partner, which just felt like an even larger target on your head. So, he settles for his home, though the worry does not cease.

This building is riddled with passageways and vaults, basement levels with so many access points that studying them feels intense. One wrong recollection could come at the cost of his life, and at the minute, his life has increased in value. Things are finally going right for him, it would be a shame to have it all taken away from him again.

A text from Erwin sounds next to him, and Levi all but glances at the screen to see what’s happening. All assistance available should he need it — he almost sighs with relief at the words.

In the past, Levi had thought he could never work in cohorts with other hitmen, but becoming partners with Erwin and his henchmen has been working in his favour. 

Still, it doesn’t hurt to learn the layout off by heart. So, Levi pours himself over the blueprints and maps, memorising every detail, becoming so engrossed in it that he barely even hears you letting yourself inside of his apartment.

Your shoes hit the wall with a noise that makes him suddenly aware of your arrival, and he glances up to see you peeking into the kitchen, eyes scanning the room for any unfortunate signs of Elio before you approach him.

He notices the street market bag and inhales the smell of spice before looking back at the maps. “Hope you’re gonna share that.”

“Of course,” you reply, offended he even thought you might not. You place the container of tteokbokki on the table before sliding around to his side, eyes glued to the rolls of paper. “Where’s this?”

“Less you know, the better,” he mutters, leaning his head into your mouth as you kiss his jaw. 

For a while, you say nothing, letting Levi memorise what he needs to while you assess the prints for yourself. Eventually, you shift your hand over his and squeeze, making him glance at you sideways. 

You’re looking at him already, though you can’t see his eyes from the way he’s hunched over. Spotting Levi’s signs of anxiety must be incredibly easy, because somehow you’ve caught on, and begin to rub the back of his hand with your thumb, nose pressed into his bicep. 

“Come eat,” you suggest quietly, after a while of basking in the silence with him.

He grunts, a typical Levi sound, and nudges you away. Though, you only shuffle to the drawer to fetch two forks — forks! He scoffs, rolling his shoulders as he rounds the table to take one from your fingers. 

“Easier to stab with a fork,” you offer as an explanation.

“If my mother was here to see me eating tteokbokki with a fork, she’d lose her goddamn mind.”

“Well…” You start, trailing off after a moment. You’ve got nothing to say; he’s won the argument just by bringing Kuchel up, and both of you know it.

Scowling, you stab another wedge of tteok and chew it furiously, meanwhile Levi smirks to himself, victorious.

(46) Giving them a back massage when they flop on the couch or bed.

“I need to retire. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“No way. How old are you now, like, twenty eight?”

“…I’m thirty.”

“Best looking thirty year old I’ve ever seen. Roll over, I’ll massage your back, if you want?”

If he ever refuses a massage from you, he’s an idiot.

Levi rolls over ungraciously, hitting the mattress on his stomach with a low groan. He rolls his shoulders, the bones cracking comically loud, and as you shuffle up to straddle his back, he groans again.

“Oh fuck off, I’m not heavy.”

Levi sniggers into the pillow, though as soon as your hands start to work their magic, he moans, the pleasure instantaneous. 

“Make a house back there, if you want. Just don’t stop.”

(47) Staying up half the night to finish a game with them.

“I can’t do it if you’re not here, Levi. You need to get over here.”

“Do you not see that I’m trying?”

“You’re terrible at this game.”

Levi scoffs. He wouldn’t be so terrible if he actually knew how to play properly. His character begins to run in circles without him even asking him to, and Levi growls angrily.

“Fucks sake, this bitch is pissing me off.” Then, he wrangles the controller from your hands as you protest and says, “You be him instead.”

“But I don’t want to be Cody.”

“Me neither.”

As soon as you start moving little Cody around, Levi peers in scrutiny at the controller in your hand and how it so suddenly has stopped drifting on its own. There’s a circular dent in your inner cheek where your tongue is, and Levi scowls in your direction.

“You were sabotaging me,” he accuses, eyes focused back on May as she stumbles around uncoordinatedly.

“I think you’re just really bad,” you reply. Cody is moving fine, and finally, the mechanism moves and the story can progress. Hm.

Levi’s eyes bore into yours as you shift to face him, elbows snug in the blanket bundled around you both. Levi has been laying low for around two weeks now — he’s surprised with just how much he likes not having to work. Though, there have been a few times whilst playing this infuriating game where Levi has wished to be anywhere else. 

“You’re good at a lot of things,” you tell him sincerely, “but just not games. And that’s okay. You tried.”

“I’m good at games,” he replies, offended.

You raise your eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Your animal living game.”

“Animal Crossing?”

“Sure, that too.”

All Levi has ever done on Animal Crossing is make a character and proceed to hit everybody with his fishing net, not to mention dig holes around your front door so you can’t get out. Still, you say nothing — the look of disbelief speaks volumes to Levi and he rolls his eyes, turning back to May as she wanders off to the side of the screen and falls off.

Okay. He’s bad at games. That he’ll admit. But you like it, and by the time he’s gotten the hang of the controls, it’s already four in the morning.

(48) Getting them a coffee just the way they like it.

Remember those habits?

“You remembered!”

If not just to see your smile, Levi likes to bring you one of the expensive bags of coffee from Erwin’s studio. You could quite easily buy the bags yourself, but there’s no thrill in ordering something and having it arrive in due time, not like there is in making Levi steal three at a time as he leaves a meeting or training session.

Levi sets the bags with a loud thud by the coffee machine and hums. 

“And you got me a drink!”

Yes. He has also become a barista and familiarised himself with the exact way you like to drink your coffee. The takeout cup he also borrowed from Erwin is placed down by your laptop as you relentlessly type away at an assignment at Levi’s kitchen table, and he presses a kiss to your temple and mutters under his breath.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, already sipping at the steamy contents.

“It’s hot,” he points out. “You’ll only cry when you singe all your taste-buds off.”

“I will not—” You slurp, then hiss, “Ow!”

“I warned you.”

(49) Buying them a special treat when you go out shopping.

You know what? No. Levi has given up on pretending like he doesn’t enjoy you being in his grill all day, every day, which is the reasoning for why he ends up in an expensive jewellery store with Erwin one day after a long haul of inspecting an upcoming raid location.

In all honesty, Levi wants to put his work to rest once the raid is all over. It will be their riskiest ploy to date, and quite frankly, Levi’s tired. He’s been killing people for years, cutting at the humanity he has left, and back in the day he would have been very comfortable with being a monster, killing until he was killed.

But now he had you. Now, Levi had someone to care about, so deeply and so passionately that it often left him feeling sick.

“That’s called love, Levi,” is what Erwin had said when Levi chose the rare option of opening up when he tried to explain why he wanted to retire early. 

“Love,” he scoffed. But then Erwin had said something profoundly wholesome, leaving Levi with a bitter taste in his mouth.

“You’re not unloveable just because you loved nothing for so long. I know it took you awhile to get back to where you are now, but just because love went wrong once before doesn’t mean it has to again. Besides, almost two years of your bullshit and that woman is still there — I don’t think you need to be worried about her pulling away from you once you tell her how you feel.”

Which roughly translated to: Buy her something nice and quash until you can’t any longer.

Once Levi gets home, he hears you giggling at something and finds you with a book over your face, your legs kicking as you squeal like a goblin. His face twists and he asks, “That book got jokes in it, or something?”

You peer around the spine and look at him. “They kissed. They. Kissed!”

“Who kissed?” Levi makes his way to the couch and takes a seat where you were just lying down. The cushions are warm — you’ve been here a while, and the thought makes him smile. 

“Evangeline and Jacks. It’s all so perfect. I didn't like most of the book, but what matters is that they kissed,” you tell him, a little too excited. You plant your feet in Levi’s lap. “I love love, Levi. It is the greatest. I love books. Men written by women!”

“Why are you giggling over other men in my own house?” 

“I giggle over you when you’re not around, too.”

He hums once from the back of his throat, watching as you mark the page with your bookmark and close the book before crawling into his lap and curling into his arms. He welcomes you instinctively, the blocky shape of the ring he bought in his pocket.

After smooching your lips for a long fifteen minutes, Levi pulls away and reaches for the box. “Got something for you.”

“Ooh, show me!”

He produces the little box and hands it to you, but when your eyes round and you hesitate in taking it, he worries.

“I’m not proposing,” he says quickly.

“Thank god. I was about to be very upset,” you sigh dramatically, finally taking the ring box. “Most unromantic proposal ever.”

“The fact you think I’d be that lousy with a proposal is actually really offensive.”

The genuine grumble in his voice puts a flutter in your stomach, though soon after, it simmers into a cool pit of shock when you flip open the box and see the most delicate, gorgeous ring that you’ve ever seen in your life, not counting ones you ogle in shopfronts.

Cautiously, you lift your head to peer at Levi’s expression. It’s not a proposal — he’s just told you so, and considering you’re not even his girlfriend in official terms yet, it seems unlikely that anything like that will be happening soon. But it has to be more than just an offhanded purchase, and you’re determined to figure out.

Levi’s eyes tremble as he looks between you and the ring. “Is it ugly?”

You immediately shake your head, “Of course not!”

“Put it on, then,” he urges. The steady beat of his heart stutters out of tempo. Suddenly, he feels quite nervous as he watches you take out the ring and study its appearance up close. “Need help?”

“Yeah, it’s so hard, I can’t figure out how to put it on. Needs instructions.”

Levi tuts and gently takes the ring from between your fingers, grabbing your ring finger whilst trying to look as casual as possible. Somehow, he manages to slide the ring on without making a fool of himself, but when he looks back at your face and sees gemstones of your own lining your waterline, he frowns.

“I’m not gonna sit here and give a speech,” he starts. By now, you know him better than that. He’s never opened up about his feelings to you, at least not without feeling regretful of it the morning after, and you nod simply, eyes catching the glint of the diamond. “But you know why I’ve bought it. I don’t need to tell you what you already know.”

And he doesn’t. Somehow, despite Levi being tremendously unromantic, having no manners, and in general being a terrible companion, you at least know that he cares. And with his upcoming job creeping up on you both, it doesn’t require an above-average intelligence to work out why this ring came when it did, what it means if things go south, what it means regardless.

“I know,” you tell him. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Instead of saying anything, Levi curls you tighter in his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes when you snuggle your face into his collar and relax. 

His mind has been made, his plans set. As soon as the job is over, he doesn’t want to look back. Only forward, with the woman who has made him feel alive again.

(50) Giving them a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.

Something is wrong. Something is horribly wrong, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

It has been days since Levi told you he’d touched down in New York, working out some stuff in the very famous Continental until he was set to join Erwin on whatever mission they had planned and prepared for. Levi hadn’t told you the details this time because the risks were too high, and now, it feels like a major setback. 

New York is on fire, and Levi barely kept his life getting out of the Silver Sword compound. An entire mob wiped out by two guys with no backup — it was practically unprecedented, unseen or unheard of since John Wick was knocking around. 

The Continental had done everything right in the aftermath, including keeping Levi in their small infirmary for days whilst tending to his excessive wounds. Fuck, he had been so reckless, so vengeful, so stupid. It had almost cost him his life ensuring that no leads followed him and Erwin back to Seoul, and although he had succeeded in destroying every last bit of incriminating evidence, the risks had been too great. 

When Levi finally gets discharged from the infirmary, it is almost eleven in the evening, and New York has finally calmed down and settled in for the night. Erwin greets Levi in the lobby, a frown on his face, holding a destroyed black bundle of phone parts that bear a striking resemblance to Levi’s missing device. He swears.

Levi hasn’t heard from you since he got here. Since the last risky job he took in Gwangju last year, you’ve never been lax while he’s been away; he can almost imagine your fear, your paranoia, and before he can even hear Erwin’s well wishes, Levi’s crossing the lobby for the customer payphone and dialing in your number.

The line rings twice before someone picks up.

“Baby?” Levi asks, after three attempts of saying your name and no coherent response. He cranes his head around the curly wire and glares at the clerk, though she looks less than pleased being interrupted by Levi, “Is this a global line?”

“Obviously, sir. It’s a telephone.”

“I fucking know it’s a telephone, but if it’s global, then why the hell isn’t it working?”

The girl gives him grief about his manners and Levi is forced to give up on calling you, slamming down the phone angrily and feeling his body growing hotter and hotter with worry.

He knows you're fine, in his house with the big cat you hate to love, but he knows you. He knows how you operate, how you worry, how you love him too much.

“Look, we’ll catch the first flight we can,” Erwin assures him as soon as Levi has caught his breath and taken a seat on one of the black leather sofas. His hands are shaking violently. “She’s fine. I promise.”

“I know she’s fine,” Levi grumbles.

“Then get a hold of yourself,” sighs Erwin, his frown low and face tired. “There’s nothing you can do but wait. I’ve got people waiting on me, as well, you know.”

“It’s not the same thing.”

“Dogs miss their owners just as much as girlfriends miss their boyfriends,” Erwin protests, because that’s all he has back home these days.

There had been a time where you had offered to set him up with your friend, Sasha, who deserved to be with a man who could handle her energy but also make her feel safe after her last terrible relationship, but Erwin is basically married to his work, and had got a dog despite Sasha being deathly allergic.

Still, Levi’s not heartless enough to know that Erwin isn’t missed by his dog, and probably other people in his life. And he’s right, there’s nothing he can do about the connection problems. All he can do is reign in his worries and wait.

The earliest flight they can find is the next morning, and Levi spends every second up to that point and up until he pulls up outside of his house in a complete state of panic. Would you be there? Did you leave, thinking he’d never come back? 

Levi abandons his bag and leaves it in the backseat as he sprints from the car up the stairs, past his front door, and into his house. He kicks off his shoes once he’s in, the door hitting the wall with a booming slam.

He hears what he thinks might be scuffles, potentially even Elio’s claws, and right as Levi calls out your name, he sees you round the corner with a blotchy red face and feels his arms stretching out for you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You slam into his chest, almost taking him to the floor, and encircle your arms around his neck so hard that the breath knocks out of his lungs. Still, he isn’t even annoyed; he squeezes you so tightly, tighter than he’s ever hugged anyone before, and shoves his face into your neck, inhaling the smell, feeling the way your body felt in memories while he was away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says in a whisper, his features tugged in displeasure as you whimper into him, no doubt crying over his shirt. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“I thought you were dead!” you blurt, “I even cried on Elio’s back because I thought you had died! What’s the point in having a phone if you never pick it up or charge it?” You snatch yourself from his arms and gently beat against his chest with your fist. “I’m so pissed off at you!”

“I’m sorry that my phone got crushed,” he says, affronted that you would even think he’d ignore your calls on purpose. “I was in a hospital bed for three days! And then the bitchy receptionist got smart with me about their shitty phone, and I called but the line cut out. Sounded like a goddamn robot, I couldn’t hear a word you were saying.”

Your jaw drops, “That was you? I thought you’d died and some enemy gang guy was trying to call me to kill me!” Levi has to laugh at the look of worry on your face. He hasn’t been cared for in this way in a long time. Never been loved to this volume. “I unplugged the landline, I was so scared! Jesus Christ, Levi!” Then, like you never left, you rush back into his arms and let out a shaky cry. 

“You did the right thing,” he tells you. Unplugging the landline was the silliest thing he could have ever thought of, but then he realises that you’re still here, and that you made peace with Elio just because you thought he had died.

Levi strokes the back of your head and shushes you, feeling your heartbeat hammering furiously against his chest. His is most likely the same, though he’s not so eager to acknowledge his own feelings.

After a while of standing there, and after Levi’s stroked behind Elio’s ears when he prowls towards them and rubs his head on Levi’s trousers, Levi looks back at you softly and takes everything in.

He has missed you more than anything, grieved the missing piece of his soul that is shaped like you. And, while he’s at it, yes! Fucking hell! He loves you!

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell him, and Levi kisses you, his hands cradling your face. The kiss is firm, desperate, though he has no intention of walking you backwards towards the bedroom like he normally does after a job.

Instead, he pulls you in for a hug again. 

“I missed you,” he mutters. “So fucking much.”

“Me too.”

He says with his mouth pressed into your head, “I’m done with this shit. I’m not taking any more jobs.”

You twist out of his arms, eyebrows raised. “Really? Why? You love your job.”

“I hate my job,” Levi confesses. “I have too much to lose. I just wanna live my life. And make it all count for something.”

For a moment, you stand there, looking at his face so intently that he almost feels uncomfortable. But then, as a smile spreads over your face, Levi feels like he can finally breathe again, finally feel like himself.

“Alright. If that’s what you want, babe, then let’s do that.”

And we can do it together.

(51) Getting adjusted.

Levi forgot what it was like to be normal.

He now wakes up at whatever time he wants to, feeling next to him for the lump in the bed where you sleep. Once he knows you’re still there (because despite being retired, he doesn’t think the habit of making sure you’re safe will ever go away), Levi wakes up and starts his day. 

Coffee for one becomes coffee for two. Levi never has to eat breakfast on his own, never sits alone on the sofa or sits in silence at the kitchen table. Levi has lost half of his sink counter space to your belongings, lost half of his wardrobe to your own clothes. There are so many shoes by his front door that it looks like a storefront. 

Elio has a mother, in a strange, estranged, visitation-hours-only kind of way. Levi has made room for you in his life and you fit perfectly, so perfectly that he barely remembers what it ever felt like to live alone.

The shower is always filled with two people. Levi finds your things all over the house in the most bizarre places. He has candles on every coffee table, pictures in frames, finds your cardigans hanging over every chair. But he loves it. He loves it so much. He can’t imagine ever not having it, having you, having this life.

(52) Finally saying the words.

“This is my first time using this thing.”

“What?” you gasp as Levi comes to sit next to you on the balcony.

Elio yawns inside, sleeping on the couch. It is partly his fault that Levi’s out here in the first place, though the thought of being tucked beside you on the outdoor couch in a blanket, watching the sun sink behind the skyline, is thankfully rather appealing, and he voices no complaints.

Levi takes a swig of his whiskey and abandons the cup on the table, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close. It’s not exactly cold tonight, but he knows you too well, and knows that within an hour, you’ll be dithering next to him.

“Imagine having a balcony and never using it.”

“I’m using it now,” Levi huffs, pinching your neck. You squeal, “Fuck off, it didn’t hurt.”

You’ve been officially living in Levi’s home for two months now, although sometimes it feels like you’ve always been here. Still, despite you making yourself very much at home on the inside, neither of you have once come out to sit on the balcony, to bask in the lovely sun as it settles for the night, not until today. 

“When’s Erwin coming?”

“Bout an hour or so,” Levi says in a low drawl, his head tilted back and hand massaging the side of your head. It had been your idea to invite a bunch of people over to your house — the house you now shared — and frightfully, Levi hadn’t opposed. It would be nice to share the wealth of simply being alive with people he now had the patience to care about. 

You shuffle to look at him, and Levi picks up his head at the sound of you moving. Like always, Levi thinks you look beautiful, but since he’s made you his girlfriend, it has felt like every time he looks at you, he can’t breathe properly.

“I’m excited. This is our first time hosting a party together,” you grin, while Levi thumbs your ear and smiles. “Do you think Elio will eat Erwin’s dog?”

“No. Elio’s moved back onto a pescatarian diet, so I think Erwin’s mutt will be safe.”

“Good. I bought him a bone, do you think he’ll like it?”

“He’s a dog. Yes, I expect, why are you asking me this?” Levi asks, eyebrows scrunched, though he pulls you close to where his mouth is and kisses you straight on the lips. “Stop stressing.”

“I can’t help it. I’m nervous! It’s all so serious! What if nobody likes our house?”

He shrugs. “I don’t give a shit who does or doesn’t like our house. It’s ours.”

“Hnnngh. And I want you to have a good time!” you whine. “You deserve a bit of fun in your life.”

“My life is always fun now that you’re my girlfriend.”

He’s instantly won himself brownie points by saying that.

“Just tell me if it gets too much,” you mutter, lips on his, mouths together. “Okay?”

Levi hums. “Yeah.” Then, after he’s kissed you three more times and felt his heart shake, he nudges his nose against yours and says, “I love you, y’know that, right?”

You pause, eyes rounding wide as you take in the sight of him. Levi has never said those words before, not explicitly. But now is as good a time as any, right?

Levi has spent far too much of his life withdrawing from his emotions, hiding away from what matters most out of a fear of caring too much. In the past, he had cared too much and lost it all. You were never supposed to be something he cared about, but when it had happened, it happened so fast he hadn’t had the time to make sense of it all.

But now, now that he’s been through it all with you, ticked every box imaginable, become comfortable being vulnerable again, Levi thinks he’s finally ready to accept the love he deserves and dole it out to those who mean the most to him.

Your mouth moves against his, though he can’t understand the words coming out. He laughs, confused, and somehow manages to pull away and ask, “What’re you even saying?”

All for you to blubber out in a laugh, “I’ve been waiting for ages for you to say that!”

His heart bursts, chest soars. “You could have said it first.”

“I’ve said it before,” you protest, “in actions.”

He scoffs, “So have I.”

And he has, you really can’t deny it.

“Say it again, won’t you?” you ask sweetly, kissing the corner of his mouth, and Levi sighs, like asking that of him is simply too much.

“I love you. You make me very happy.” Levi groans when you cackle and squish the breath out of him with a hug, but this time, he sniggers too. Why waste the moment on pretending to be indifferent when he’s actually the happiest he’s ever been?

Levi Ackerman can finally say that he feels good. He feels safe, he feels content, he feels comfortable — and most of all, he feels loved. And in love. And totally at peace in the world with the person who makes him the happiest.

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Request: all day i’ve been thinking about harry x reader who matilda is about, maybe reader was a fan before they met, they somehow started dating, and i just neeeeed to know your opinion on her first reaction to the song

Omgggg I adore this!! Thank you so much for the request!! I hope this is okay, and what you were looking for!! ❤️‍🩹 apologies for the delay and not writing!! Life has been crazy.

Im sorry but I literally LOVE the line ‘I know they won’t hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go’ thats such a beautiful multilayered thing to say, like- don’t hold onto the people who hurt you… just let them go. Gods it’s so beautiful I can’t 😩🥹

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

You can let it go

It was safe to say you always struggled with your mental health. You were constantly battling that alongside your family. Your family weren’t the best. Sure they took care of you, but didn’t look after you properly. They didn’t make you feel loved… it hurt you terribly. But then you met Harry and your family became nonexistent. Harry became the light in your life, your happiness, your world, your absolute joy… you remembered the time you told him about your family. How he listened. Holding your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it oh so delicately as he nodded occasionally as if to show that he was listening… he actually cared and that broke you yet made you beyond happy all at once, you remembered how frightened you were to open up to him. To tell him that your family didn’t take care of you… that you were lost… but in the end it was the best thing you could’ve done for it opened up the fact that you were struggling. He acted as your life jacket: he saved your life.

You had been a fan of Harry for years, you never thought you’d meet him but you did and well the rest is history… you and him hit it off pretty quickly and immediately began dating but you both kept your relationship with each other out of the public eye. It was easier that way. Privacy was important to the both of you. You were sat in your bedroom that you shared with Harry, the man had been on his phone nonstop and it was starting to really worry you. Sure you struggled with abandonment issues but it wasn’t necessarily your fault. You had experienced nothing but horrendous treatment from your family and it was frankly something you didn’t like to look back on.

“You know you’re kind of freaking me out” you murmur towards him, his emerald green eyes instantly meeting with yours his expression softening “I’m sorry baby… I’m just getting permission for something real quick.” He spoke eyes returning to his phone and you gave him an exasperated look clearly confused and worried all at once. What seemed like hours passed by but really only a couple minutes passed Harry’s lips tugging upwards into a warm smile before he stood up “come with me” he spoke extending his hand out towards you, you quickly taking his hand as he walked with you downstairs and guiding you gently into the living room,

“Sit”

He spoke softly and you sat down watching as he turned on the speaker that was situated just beside the tv, connecting his phone to it “you ready sweetheart?” He glanced at you and you only nodded, still a bit worried and soon enough Harry had set his phone down onto the table coming to sit beside you as a beautiful melodic tune began, echoing from the speaker and wrapping around you like a warm comforting hug your heart suddenly threatening to jump out of your chest… a new song. You licked over your lips anxiously immediately melting into Harry’s side as he held you close his slender fingertips stroking just against your hair as he began pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

You were riding your bike to the sound of “it’s no big deal.” And you’re trying to lift off the ground on those old two wheels. Nothing about the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming ‘til now. So you tie up your hair and smile like it’s no big deal. You can let it go you can throw a party full of everyone you know not invite your family cause they never showed you love, don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.

Tears suddenly brimmed your eyes a shaky breath leaving your lips as you sank further into Harry’s side, your lower lip trembling as he began rubbing soothing circles against your back… he said that the first time you opened up to him. “Don’t worry about them y/n. This is their loss. You don’t have to be sorry for leaving.” A lump formed in your throat as you held onto harry tighter your knuckles turning white from the grip you had on his T-shirt your chest aching,

Matilda you talk of the pain like it’s all alright. But I know that you feel like a piece of you’s dead inside. You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days. It’s none of my business but it’s just been on my mind…

A tear trailed down your cheek finally as a sob bubbled from your throat, your head falling onto his shoulder… it reminded you how before you and him started dating he would always ask why you didn’t want to go home… he knew it was none of his business but he was worried about you and it wouldn’t leave his mind. It was beautiful… he had written this song about you. About your troubles. About what made you feel weak. What terrified you… and he turned it into something truly beautiful and it was honestly leaving you awe-struck. He converted your pain from agony and sobbing all through the night in his embrace to something comforting… that it was in fact alright that you didn’t want to waste your time on the family that showed you no love what so ever.

You can let it go. You can throw a party full of everyone you know, not invite your family cause they never showed you love. You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up, you can see the world following the seasons anywhere you go you don’t need a reason cause they never showed you love don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your own. Your just in time make your tea and your toast…

That line was significant to you. You always arrived a little later than expected but always nearly on time at Harry’s house and he would make you tea and toast, every single time, and you’d both have a catch up because you couldn’t leave your home at that time… Harry guided you through the process and helped you leave. He never gave up on you. Never.

You don’t have to go. You don’t have to go home, there’s a long way to go. I don’t believe that time will change your mind. In other words I know they won’t hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go. You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know you can start a family who will always show you love don’t have to be sorry for doing it on your own. You can let it go you can throw a party full of everyone you know you can start a family who will always show you love you don’t have to be sorry, no….

Your tearful eyes moved to look at Harry who had the same look in his eyes yet he looked so fucking proud. Whether that be pride in his song… or pride in you. “Do I have permission from you to release this song onto my album?” Your lower lip trembled as you nodded your head quickly wrapping your arms around him holding onto him tightly not daring to let go of him as soft sobs left your lips, his large hand stroking up and down your back as he gripped onto you tightly “you can let it go… okay sweetheart?” You didn’t answer, instead holding onto him tighter, not daring to let go your fingers curling into his hair your breathing shaky as your sobs continued escaping your lips. “I love it so much… it’s so beautiful… s-so comforting…” he pressed continuous kisses to your head not letting you go as he rocked you back and forth ever so slightly “I love you so much y/n.” He murmured against your head gently and you smiled weakly, emotions continuing to smash against you rather roughly “I love you so much too Harry… thank you. Thank you for sav-“ “shh. I didn’t do that y/n. You did all of that. You did.” He pulled back looking into your eyes gently pointing one finger against your chest “you, did all of it. You left the home… yet you remained strong. And that was all you.” His hand caressed against your cheek and you smiled lower lip continuing to tremble before you leaned in pressing a kiss to his lips keeping you lips against his “you. Saved. My. Life.” You spoke against his lips before you hugged him again, now sprawled out on his lap his hands rubbing up and down your sides holding you lovingly not daring to let go of you making sure you knew you were loved. Because you were and are so so loved.

Never forget that. You are loved. Never apologise for doing what’s right for you. Love yourselves.

[padfootagain]

Old Crush

Hello ! Here is a request that was sent my way by an anon : ‘Great! So I had this idea for a Ben imagine... So you were a big fan of Ben since you saw him in the Narnia movies, and you had a crush on him for years. Now, years later you're dating him but you never told him about knowing who he was before meeting him nor about this crush you had on him/his character (does that have sense?😅) And somehow he finds out and he's mad about it because he feels betrayed that you lied and he thinks you are only dating him because of who he is. But a happy ending, please!’

Thank you for sending in a request, anon! I hope you enjoy what I’ve written for you!

I hope you all like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Warnings: a bit of angst. Hurt/comfort. Fluffy ending. (the ask was perfect to use some interviews about Ordinary Day so… because I don’t know but whenever he speaks about being enough my heart just goes dfiejierjiejri)

Summary: Ben didn’t know that you were a fan of his already before you started dating, and when he finds out, he doesn’t like it at all. All his insecurities are suddenly brought back to life…

Word Count: 3156

Ben's Masterlist - Main Masterlist

It was a beautiful day, odds were in Ben’s favour to spend a lovely afternoon with you.

Lunch in the sun on your balcony, in your shared home, eating a tasty meal and drinking some fine wine. He glimpsed at the shining ring on your finger as the gem caught the sun and glimmered even more than usual, while he listened to you ramble about something exciting that happened at work. And it was perfect.

Perfect. Everything about this moment, about you, about the two of you… was perfect.

He wasn’t claiming that it wasn’t hard sometimes, because it was. You butted heads, you fought from time to time, you got annoyed at him and he got mad at you. He was away often and you weren’t always around. Sometimes, it was rough, but it was worth it. That was what Ben meant when ‘perfect’ popped into his mind to be written on everything around him. No matter what, he was certain you were the one. No matter what, he was certain he would fight for you. The two of you would make it work, no matter what. Because you were everything he wanted, and he was enough for you.

Him. Ben. Not Ben Barnes, not the actor, not the fame, not the money… just… him. Simple Ben who overthought everything, was too cautious sometimes, had only a vague idea of what a meme was, loved goofing around, and made a mediocre chili that he claimed was amazing. You loved him, and he knew it. He knew that if tomorrow he dropped everything and walked out of the glamour and fame you would hold his hand and give him a bright smile and ask ‘okay, where are we going, then?’ And it made it perfect. To be enough made it perfect…

A dreamy smile formed on his lips at the thought that this was going to last forever. You were signing up for a lifetime together. Endless supplies of banter, of conversations that lasted till dawn, of cuddles on the sofa, of kisses in a kitchen bathed with dawn, of hands holding on each other as if they never wanted to let go. Endless supplies of silly fights forgotten on the pillow, of eyes opening to the sight of the other sleeping, of boxes of chocolate brought home every day for a week every month, of flights caught to close the distance, of faces drawn in pixels and voices distorted by phones, of painful goodbyes before climbing in a cab.

All of it, good or bad, was about to last for the rest of your lives, together. A couple of months more to wait until you would both say yes and be each other’s for a lifetime…

Sometimes, he wondered if things would have been different if you had met under different circumstances. Instead of bumping – quite literally – into each other in this supermarket… what if you had met and started dating knowing who he was? Would he have opened up so easily then? Would he have let himself be drawn to you with such a force?

But then again, you didn’t know who he was back then. And he was thankful for it. He hadn’t had to worry about the fame, about you being earnest, about money… none of that mattered, not between the two of you.

He was just Ben with you, and it was enough. And you were just Y/N, and it was enough.

“Are you even listening at this point?”

Ben shook himself out of his dreamy state, looking away from your shimmering ring and up to your eyes again. He wanted to drown in their colour forever…

You were amused more than annoyed, head tilted to the side and a playful smile on your lips.

“You’re talking about Francis breaking the coffee machine. Again,” he answered with a cocky smile. “Of course, I’m listening, love.”

“You seemed to have zoned out for a moment,” you explained before eating the last bite of your dessert.

“Was just… kind of lost in thought, I guess. But I was listening.”

“What were you thinking about? You were smiling, it ought to be nice.”

His smile widened, something mischievous and flirtatious added to the crooked gesture.

“I was thinking about this,” he answered, nodding towards your ring. “And about all the naughty things we’ll do on our honeymoon.”

You laughed, choking on the piece of fruit you were eating. And God, did he adore that sound…

“And… what kind of thoughts these might be? Are you making plans?” you asked back, flirt lowering your voice too, and Ben couldn’t help the way his heart jumped in his chest at the sound.

“I am, actually,” he fought back, leaning a little across the table, a dangerous glint darkening his black eyes. “I have a full list, at this point… of things I’m going to do to you.”

He noticed your sharp intake of breath, and leaned back in his chair, winking at you in a seductive way, making you nervously giggle.

“Can’t wait for that, then… Can I get a preview?”

Ben let out a loud laugh, shaking his head.

“No way, I’m keeping that for later. We should relax this afternoon.”

“Sex is… relaxing…”

“No…” Ben shook his head, amused.

Instead, Ben ended up doing the dishes while you settled on the sofa and looked for something to watch on TV. You went through the channels, until Ben’s face appeared on the screen.

“Oh! Honey! You’re on TV!”

Ben chuckled, putting away the last plate before walking inside the living room to join you. Indeed, his face was on the screen; a shaven, much younger version of himself.

“Oh, it’s Narnia,” he said with a fond smile on his lips as some of his friends appeared on the screen as well.

He sat by your side on the sofa and immediately snuggled against you, rolling his eyes as you whistled when he was on the screen again, playfully catcalling him.

“My… my… look at this handsome guy, right there!” you teased, pinching his side, and Ben couldn’t help but blush.

“Not bad, huh? Is he your type?” he asked, playing along, the red reaching the tip of his ears.

He tried hard to refrain a grin, but he couldn’t.

“Definitely! He looks a little like my fiancé, you see?”

“Oh, I see…”

You both exploded with laughter, unable to keep a straight face for much longer.

“You are definitely my type,” you went on. “God… even then, I had a crush on you!”

Ben frowned, looking at you questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

He squeezed your thigh, the feeling of your body against him reassuring.

“Well… even as Caspian, I had a crush on you.”

“When?”

His frown deepened, and he couldn’t help the way his heart sped up all of a sudden. Because… you couldn’t be meaning that. You didn’t know who he was when you met…

“I mean that when I watched Narnia for the first time, I had a crush on Caspian. So… on you… kind of.”

“But when did you watch it?”

“When it came out! I went to see these movies with some friends at the time.”

You seemed puzzled by his reaction, and perhaps it was normal for you to do so. You frowned, the small crease forming across your brow. And perhaps it was but logical for you to react like that, but Ben didn’t think so. Instead, he merely stared at you, frowning hard, almost glaring, his jaw clenched tight, all of a sudden…

“What?” you asked, even more taken aback as Ben sat up, letting go of you completely.

You knew him before you met. You knew who he was that day, in the supermarket, and during your first date and…

You had a crush on him already? What… if you knew who he was then… had you ever been interested in him back then? That rainy afternoon when you bumped so hard into him in this supermarket he fell over?

He couldn’t control the way his heart was racing, the growing feeling that was crushing his chest more and more. This feeling, so painful, of… betrayal…

“Ben? What’s wrong, honey?”

He got up at the sound of the nickname.

Was it real? From the beginning? And why had you not told him you knew who he was? What was your plan? Were you… were you lying about the two of you?

“You’ve never told me,” he spoke at last, voice low and shaking with an anger he struggled to control.

You shrugged; and Ben hated you for it. Because everything was crumbling around him, his mind was spiralling, and you were… shrugging?

“What about it? I love these movies. Haven’t watched them in ages, though…”

“When we met… when we went on our first date, you never told me you knew who I was.”

You frowned hard, failing to understand why he seemed angry now, why his voice was so low, a rumble of upcoming thunder.

“I didn’t recognize you at first,” you admitted. “Not in the supermarket. Not before you told me your full name, and that you were an actor.”

“That was on our first date! Why didn’t you tell me then?”

But again, you shrugged, at a loss for words. And he could see it in your eyes: that you didn’t understand what was happening, why he was mad, what you had done wrong.

Ben tried to take a few deep breaths, in an attempt to slow down his pounding heart and to clear his head. But it didn’t work well…

“What does it matter, anyway?” you asked, and Ben scoffed in response, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You should have told me…”

“Why? It was ages ago… who cares?”

“I care!” he replied, raising his voice, the announced storm finally reaching the surface, making the air heavy and filled with electricity.

“I don’t understand,” you admitted, keeping your voice low and calm, but it didn’t soothe Ben’s anger.

“I thought… You said you hadn’t watched anything I was in. You lied!”

“I didn’t lie! At the time, you had just finished working on the Punisher, and I hadn’t watched that.”

Four years… that was too long ago, he couldn’t remember the exact words that were spoken. And perhaps you were right. Perhaps you had never claimed to have never watched anything he had been in but were only unaware of the project he was working on at the time. Perhaps he had been the one distorting your words a little. But it didn’t matter. Ben was still angry, even if he might be in the wrong.

Because it meant that… how could he trust you now? How could he know that you were the one? That he he was enough?

“Did you go on a date with me because I’m an actor?”

It was your turn to be hurt, he read it in your eyes.

“What?”

“Did you accept to go on a date with me only because I’m an actor? Just for the clout?”

“How dare you!” you protested, standing up as well, hurt mingling now with anger. “Of course not! Who do you think I am?”

“I don’t know… I’m not sure to know that anymore…”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought you went on a date with me, and then became my girlfriend because you… not because of the fame, or the money or…”

“Of course, I didn’t! What’s next, you’re gonna call me a whore and claim I only slept with you for money? I don’t need your money, and I never have!”

“I didn’t say that…”

“You’d better not! Besides, let’s bring your ego down a notch, because you might be talented, but you’re not a superstar either, Ben.”

“No need to be mean.”

“You’re basically saying I’ve slept with you for money! How is that not insulting?”

But Ben was less and less convincing at hiding his hurt behind his anger. Because there were tears at the corners of his angry gaze, and a shakiness in his voice due to a tightened throat; and if he clenched his jaw and fists now, it was to hide the fear that crept within his heart.

Because if you had fantasized on this person he wasn’t… was it what you saw in him? Was it what you saw at the beginning, at least?

Because he thought that he was enough, but then again… was he? Had you fallen in love with him or with the image of him you already liked?

“What about the fantasy of it then? What about that crush on someone I’m not?” he spat, holding onto the rage to hide the fragility he longed to forget.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Was I a fantasy to you?”

“What?!”

“You heard me.”

“What do you mean ‘a fantasy’?”

“Well, I don’t know… Apparently you had a crush on me before we even met! Or, to be more precise, you had a crush on someone I am not.”

He expected you to keep your voice high, maybe to raise your voice even more. But you didn’t. Instead, he was taken aback as you visibly relaxed, as your gaze softened, as you heaved a sigh.

“Ben… what’s wrong? For real?”

“I told you what was wrong! You lied, and now… I don’t even know if this is real anymore. Us. Our whole relationship… we were supposed to get married!”

“Were?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

But he regretted these words as soon as they passed his lips. Because despite his stupid doubts, he loved you with all his heart. You were the one, he knew it.

Why was he pushing you away like this, then?

But you didn’t fall for it, didn’t follow him down this path of anger he was opening for you. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly, and he was so taken aback that he didn’t protest, nor moved away.

“I love you,” you said, your voice soothing again, warm and reassuring, your natural tone. “I love you more than anything. And this has nothing to do with your job, or with whether or not I liked Caspian years ago. I fell in love with you on our seventh date when you got us lost on our way to the beach because you have no sense of direction whatsoever.”

He rolled his eyes, but you weren’t fooled. You could feel the muscles of his back relaxing under your hands.

“I love you, Ben. You know I do. So… what is this all about?”

He shrugged, looking away so you wouldn’t see that he was holding back tears.

How could he say it? That he was terrified all over again that one day you would change your mind. That one day, you wouldn’t think as him being enough…

Because it happened before, but you didn’t really know that. It happened, over and over again. Because people expected him to be someone else, and they fell for his public image at first, for a fictional character, and then they woke up next to him and they just… disappeared. Because disappointment always drove people away.

But this time around, it was different. You were different. You made him feel so safe, so confident, so loved… if you turned up to dismiss him just like the others, Ben wasn’t certain he would be able to overcome it this time around.

But he couldn’t tell you that.

It was okay, though, he didn’t really have to. You read it in his eyes when you caught his gaze for a second before he could look away once more, you noticed it in his clenched jaw and the slight shaking of his hands, you saw it in the fear that he tried to hide still but was painted in every crinkle of his handsome face.

“There’s no need to push me away,” you spoke in the softest voice, and he felt safe all over again. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. I’m happy with you. And I don’t care about anything but being with you. With the real you. The one waking up way too early on Sundays, and who gets lost everywhere he goes, and always has to make lists for everything, and sings all the time, and cuddles me every morning, and worries about our tickets way too much when we leave for a vacation and… You. Just you. I just want to be with you, Ben. Everything else doesn’t matter. Okay? Do you understand? I don’t need anything more, as long as I can spend my life loving you.”

You could have gone on, but Ben suddenly wrapped his arms around you as well, finally reciprocating your gesture, and he held you tightly, so tightly you could hardly breathe, but you didn’t mind.

You heard him sniffing as he buried his face into your hair, breathed deeply the sweet scent of your shampoo.

He was being ridiculous… this was ridiculous… You were right. You loved him. And he loved you… God, he loved you so damn much, it physically hurt…

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, trying to calm down, anger slowly being replaced by this sense of fragility he was desperate to avoid. “I didn’t… I’m sorry. It was pretty ridiculous, right?”

“It’s okay.”

“I… I guess I had a little… insecurity crisis for a moment.”

“Yeah, I got that. I don’t really understand why though.”

“It’s just… I’m afraid sometimes that people don’t like me as much as they like the idea they have of me. Do you understand?”

Slowly, you nodded, he felt your head moving against his cheek and shoulder.

“I see. But I don’t care about that. I love you for who you are.”

It was his time to nod.

“It’s just… I’m worried sometimes that one day you’ll realize I’m just me, nothing more. And that… I’m not… that I can’t get you more than that. More than me.”

“But you’re everything I need, Ben. You’re enough. You’re so much more than enough, actually.”

Finally, he smiled, grinned even, you felt the gesture against your skin as he pressed his lips to your temple.

“I feel very stupid. I’m sorry,” he apologized in a whisper.

“It’s alright.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not. I think you could have handled that better, but it’s okay. Do you still want to watch a movie with me?”

He chuckled, pulling away just enough to gently hold your face in both his hands, and kiss you for a rather long time. If any trace of anger had remained in your heart, it was fully gone after this loving gesture.

He offered you a grateful smile when you finally opened your eyes again.

“I will always want to watch movies with you, my love. Even when I act like an idiot.”

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

Taglist: @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

[coolepowersthings]

Always Girl

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and Benedict have been best friends since college. Every year, they watch romcoms together on Valentine’s Day. But this year might not go as planned… modern au

Warnings: NSFW 18+, sexual content, consensual sex.

Authors Note: Apparently, once every few years I manage to finish a story lol. I’ve become obsessed with Bridgerton, especially one Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, so here’s a lovely modern au for you where Ben and his best friend come to terms with some long-simmering feelings. Mostly, a reason to write some Benedict smut. Would love to hear your thoughts! Comments, likes, reblogs, and messages all appreciated!

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She looks in the mirror on her wall and repeats it again. Like a mantra: it wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had to stop it from being like this.

Y/N flops back on her pillow and sighs. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, and yet here she was, another Valentine’s Day, pining after her best friend.

She glances at the clock. Said best friend would be here in about fifteen minutes (which for him meant probably closer to half an hour, if she was lucky and he hadn’t lost himself in a painting) so she had just enough time to pull herself together. The only good thing about this wretched holiday was that she and Benedict always spent it together. The tradition had started in university. She and Benedict had met first term and, after a rocky start involving a misplaced biology textbook, had become close friends. When February rolled around, it became clear that Valentines Day was kind of a capital T “Thing” for him.

***

“I just don’t get the hype!” he had said to her one day over lunch after the girl he was seeing that week asked him what his plans were for February 14th. “It’s one day, where you’re supposed to, what, declare your undying love for whoever you’re with at the moment, lavish them with ridiculous gifts, and watch cheesy romance movies?”

“First of all, you just used the word ‘lavish’ in a sentence. Second, you know the relationship won’t be making it to next week, so you can’t be bothered,” she’d said, pointing her fry at him in mock accusation before popping it into her mouth.

He scowled at her. She loved Benedict to death, but he was something of a flirt. And a bit of a man whore. She’d known him all of six months and already had lost count of the woman he had dated.

“I’ll admit, though, I do like the cheesy romance movie part. But I just want to watch them with a pizza and maybe some chocolate I buy for myself. I could do without the rest of it.”

“Yes!” Benedict had said. “That’s exactly what we’ll do!”

“I’m sorry, what’s exactly what who will do?”

“You and me. On Friday. Bad romcoms. Pizza.”

“And you think your current girl will go for that?”

“Darling, why would I spend valentines with my current girl if I can spend it with my always girl instead?” he said with a smirk.

***

Now, as her doorbell rings, she knows what she’ll find on the other side. Benedict, grinning at her, holding a box of chocolates and a bottle of red wine.

“Happy Valentines, always girl,” he says handing her the box of candy. “For the special lady in my life, I’ve brought a box of dark chocolate salted caramels, and a bottle of the cheapest red wine known to man.”

“You charmer!” She says, examining the bottle and pretending that his words have no effect on her. “This is literally just called ‘Red Blend.’ They couldn’t even be bothered to name their wine?”

“Names cost,” he chuckles, taking the bottle back from her and heading into the kitchen. “Besides,” he yells from the other room, “there’s a heart on the label. See? So, it’s on theme!”

She heard the clinking of him pulling glasses out of the cupboard, but she still was not prepared for the sliver of skin she sees when she turns the corner, his t-shirt riding up as he reaches, showing her a glimpse of his back. Not that she hasn’t seen his skin before – she had seen him fully shirtless in their years of friendship, but the feeling of longing in her gut still caught her off-guard if she wasn’t expecting it. Her stomach clenching, her face getting warm. She clears her throat as he opens the bottle.

“Well, we are nothing if not on theme,” she says brightly, pulling her hair up into a bun on top of her head in an effort to distract herself from the way her body was betraying her. “I mean, what could be more valentines themed than this outfit?”

He glances up at her from pouring the wine and smirks. In an attempt to not overdo it, she had gone with her normal movie watching attire – a t-shirt and yoga pants.

“Dazzling, as always darling.”

He hands her a glass and takes a sip of his own. “Oh,” he winces. “That is truly awful.”

She chuckles.

“You know, our tastes have really improved since undergrad. As, may I add, have our salaries. I know you always wanted to be a ‘starving artist,’ but you have managed your way out of that by being wildly successful. We could consider improving the wine for tonight.”

He gasps in mock horror.

“And not follow tradition? You’d never forgive me. So, what do you have in mind for us today?”

“Um.” she stutters, for just a second.

What her mind wanted them to be up to and what she knew he meant were two different things. She clears her throat and tries again.

“Oh, I have some throwback classics that I think you’ll enjoy,” she says sweetly.

This was the agreement. He brought the terrible wine, and she picked out the cheesy movies. They tried not to repeat movies they had watched on past Valentines Days, but that was getting harder for two reasons. One, because they had been friends forever, and the more years they did this, the less options they had. And two, because she had done her best to avoid one specific, horrifyingly common, romcom trope: friends to lovers. Especially if the movie included long-standing-best-friends to lovers. This year, though, she didn’t have a choice. One of the movies was going to include best friends realizing they were in love with each other. Her options had been that or dredging into truly terrible D grade romcoms. And honestly, while they often poked fun at the ridiculous storylines and over-the-top climatic moments of these films, she genuinely enjoyed watching them, especially with Ben. So, she didn’t want to cheapen it to the worst of the worst. She wanted something actually pleasant to watch.

“Excellent. Que us up then, I’ll order the pizza.”

Ninety minutes later, they had finished their first movie, half the pizza, and a whole bottle of wine.

“Mmm, I liked that one,” she hums, riding the romcom happy ending high.

“I could tell,” he laughs. “You threw a pillow at my head when I suggested that the setup for their romance wasn’t very realistic.”

“Yes, well, don’t forget that I have another pillow right here if I need to do it again.”

“You would never.”

“Don’t pretend you know what I would or would not do, Mr. Bridgeton. I have hidden depths.”

“Darling,” he says. “I have known you forever, I’m pretty sure I know everything about you. And I know, without a doubt, that you would never give up your last pillow during a movie marathon.”

“You don’t know everything,” she says. And then quickly, “For example, you don’t know that what we are about to watch next is one of my all-time favorite movies.”

He quirks a brow.

“Really? A favorite? I didn’t think we had any of those left. I’m surprised you had the willpower to hold off on it until now.”

“Oh, I have willpower like you’d never believe,” she mutters, clicking over to the next film.

The opening of When Harry Met Sally starts playing on the screen.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, it’s this one. I guess you’re right, we haven’t watched this, have we.”

“You’ve seen it right?”

“Of course. It may be the only Meg Ryan movie that doesn’t make me want to die.”

“Rude!” she says. “She is a romcom treasure! And you made it through her other movies unscathed.”

“Barely!”

“Oh, shh it’s starting.”

They sit in companionable silence as the movie moves on, Meg Ryan and Billy Chrystal bantering back and forth. They get to the scene where Sally orders her food in a completely ridiculous way and Ben chuckles.

“God, she reminds me of you,” he says.

“What, terribly difficult? Complicated? Impossible for most men to love?”

“No! No, she knows what she wants. She refuses to settle.”

“I’m flattered, I guess. But that’s not really me at all, you know.”

“Well, it definitely is when you’re ordering at a restaurant,” he smirks at her. But then it turns into a softer smile, something she can’t quite identify behind his eyes. “And honestly, when it comes to dating, you are so, so brave.”

“Stop!”

“You really are! You never stay with men who don’t deserve you. You’re not afraid to go after what you want, rather than staying stagnant in something safe. That’s brave. And not easy.”

“But I don’t go after what I want,” she breaths out. “Not really. I…I’m just not willing to stay with idiots.” She stares at her fingers, which are playing with a thread on the couch pillow she’s holding close, afraid she’s said too much, but somehow not able to stop. “But I’m not willing to go after what I really want, either. I’m not that brave.”

When she chances a look up at him, there is something in his face. It’s soft and sweet. She had expected him to poke fun at her, to say something about how maybe she shouldn’t start off by dating idiots and then it wouldn’t be an issue. But instead, she finds him leaning closer to her, his eyes serious.

“Well, you should go after it. What you want, I mean. You’re brilliant, y/n. And funny and smart. Any man would be lucky to have you.” And then his wide smile is back, the glint in his eye returned. “And I would know, as I’ve been your friend for ages and I have excellent taste.”

She snorts, looking away, trying to diffuse the heavy tension she feels sitting in her chest at his kind words, the way he’s leant towards her, his subtle scent, all fresh and clean with a hint of oil paint and something woodsy underneath.

“You forget that I’ve seen the women you go for,” she says. “And frankly, your taste is questionable.”

They both chuckle and turned back to the film.

“So mean,” he says.

“I tease because I love,” she says.

Then she freezes for just a second. She and Ben tell each other they love each other constantly – as friends, of course. But tonight has seemed so weighted somehow, that she’s worried she has stepped too far. A glance at Ben tells her he’s looking at her again, smiling.

***

When they get to arguably the most famous scene of the movie, y/n nearly spits out her wine, which would have been a shame, since they had moved on to a decent bottle from her own cupboard. She had somehow forgotten about this part and, while she had watched a lot of love scenes over the years with Benedict, this one feels more intimate, somehow, even though the people in question are fully clothed, in a diner.

As she watches Meg Ryan continue to imitate an orgasm, her cheeks flush and she tried very hard not to move. It will be impossible for Ben not to make some comment about this part, and she wasn’t sure she was up to joking about it, given the amount of wine she had consumed and the rush she was already feeling this evening. She wasn’t sure why tonight it was harder to ignore the pull she felt towards him, the warmth of his arm, slung along the back of the couch - not behind her, but close enough to make her want to snuggle into him. But what he says is not what she expected.

“I don’t know how he doesn’t just lunge across that table,” he says, lowly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

“What do you mean?”

She turns to look at him and realizes he’s already looking at her, not at the screen. His eyes are darker than normal, his arm seems suddenly tense behind her.

“I mean, that if a woman I loved showed me how beautiful she could be in the throws of passion, even if I knew she was faking it, there is no way I could just stay where I was. I would need her to know. I would need to show her what she had been missing, what she could have for real.”

She feels her whole face, completely on fire. She’s thought about Ben plenty. About what it would be like to be with him. But to hear him talking about it, in his low, smooth voice, all she can think about is what he could do, with his hands, his tongue…she shivers involuntarily.

“Just, promise me you don’t play this stupid game, do you? You’re too good for that, I hope you know. No man’s ego is worth it. I just – “

“Ben,” she says, suddenly finding her voice and cutting him off. “Stop. I can’t – I don’t want to talk about this.” She tries to make her voice sound light, but when she hears it she knows it’s anything but.

“No! No, tell me you don’t?”

“Of course I don’t. I’d never fake it. But…but it does make for some awkward encounters.”

“Awkward encounters?”

“Don’t pretend you can’t imagine what happens when a woman doesn’t get off? Men have a way of convincing themselves they are the best at sex, and if you in any way make them feel like they’re not…it doesn’t always go great.”

“But that’s the point, isn’t it? You shouldn’t have to pretend, and they should make sure you’re satisfied.”

“Ben,” she looks at him, seriously. “Come on. You have got to know that it is not always that easy. For some women, it’s tricky. I’m just saying, it can cause tension, when things are new.”

Ben scoffs. “Not for me. I would never leave a woman to feel like she had to fake it.”

“You know who you sound like right now, right?” she says, pointing to the television. “You sound like Harry.”

“It’s different. He’s sure a woman has never faked it with him. I make sure she never feels like she has to with me.”

“First sexual encounters are rarely the best.”

“Maybe. But I would make sure it was good. Even if it can’t be the best.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Well that we can agree on.”

“Women’s bodies are different.”

“I would never presume to know a woman’s body better than she does.”

“What?”

“I would ask her. What she likes,” he says, his voice still low, his eyes intent on her. “If she wasn’t happy, I would ask her to show me. I would never pretend like I know everything.”

Her heart is beating so fast, she feels like it might burst from her chest. Hearing him talk about this is too much. He’s so close, closer, somehow, than he had been moments ago. Had she moved towards him? Had the sound of his voice caused her to shift even closer to him? God, this was embarrassing. She goes to sit up straighter, away from him, but he catches her wrist, gently, and keeps her where she is.

“I would never let any woman go unsatisfied. But I absolutely, without a doubt, would never let you go unsatisfied.”

She feels like all the air has left her body.

“Ben,” she barely whispers.

“Please,” he says. “Please tell me that you haven’t been letting immature boys treat you poorly all this time, when I could have been taking care of you.”  

All she can do is shake her head and look down, trying to pull herself out of the depth of his eyes. What was happening? Was Ben coming on to her? Did he know how she felt? No, no he was just worried about her. He thought she was brave, that she went for what she wanted, and she had admitted that wasn’t always the case. Ben was nothing if not someone who was comfortable with sex, and so talking about this would not be a big deal to him. He was just concerned. Trying to take care of her, as always. But not in the way she thought. Not in the way she wanted.

“I know it’s been a while since I’ve been in a relationship, Ben. But I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can, if you want to. But if that’s not what you want. If you want someone else – “

“It’s not your job to take care of me, Ben. Not like that.”

“I know it’s not but, what if I want it to be.”

Her eyes fly back up to his.

“Please,” he says, moving his hand to cup her cheek now, his face impossibly closer to hers. “Please let me take care of you. Like I want to. Like I’ve always wanted to.”

She doesn’t think she could respond if she tried.

He pauses and looks at her, searching for an answer in her eyes. He must have found what he was looking for, because suddenly he’s there, so close to her, whispering her name.

And then, his lips are on hers.

It starts out sweet, tentative. He was giving her plenty of time to push him away, to say no. But the moment his tongue slides against her mouth, she opens for him without hesitation, and he starts to kiss her in earnest, exploring her mouth with his own. They are all teeth and tongues, and damn, why had they waited so long to do this? She pushes herself closer to him, and he grasps her waist, pulling her up until she is straddling him on the sofa. She feels him, hard against her. Her hands go to his hair and his slide down, cupping her ass through the thin fabric of her leggings. A moan leaves his throat, and she wants to swallow every sound he makes, wants to taste it, to feel the vibrations of him through her body.

His hands move up her back and into her hair, tugging on it lightly as his lips leave hers to trail kisses down her neck. She can’t help the sound that leaves her as he finds the sensitive spot just above her collarbone.

“Fuck,” he whispers, almost reverently, before attaching his lips to the spot again, making her keen. “How can this feel so good when all I’ve done is kiss you?”

Something about his words make her stop and pull his face up to look at her.

“Ben,” she breaths out. “Ben, what are we doing?”

Her question seems to snap him out of the haze.

He looks at her with complete sincerity and says, “I’m so sorry. I should have asked. Do you want this? Do you want this with me? Because if not, we will stop, right now. I would never want to make you uncomfortable – “

“No, Ben, I do want this.”

She can’t help but smile shyly at the relieved look on his face as she says it. Sweet Ben, of course he was worried about her consent. He was a gentleman through and through.

“But that’s not what I meant. I meant, what are we, me and you, doing. Is this, are you…”

She can’t find the words to ask what she wants to - no, what she needs to know. Was this because he wanted her, wanted more with her? Was this a one-time thing for him? Proof that he would take care of her, always, even physically, if that’s what she needed?

Ben tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and keeps looking at her.

“I want this with you,” she lowers her eyes, unable to look at him. “I have wanted this, with you. For a long time. I don’t even know when I started to but…I need to know what you want. What this is for you. Because I…”

“Love,” he says, lifting her face up to look at him again. “Listen to me. I want you. You, Y/N. Here and now. And tomorrow, assuming you don’t kick me out of your bed or freeze me to death, because you are such a blanket hog. I want to wake up next to you, and make coffee, and bicker about what constitutes breakfast, and finally make you stop talking with my mouth on your lips, on your neck, on your body, until we both forget what we were fighting about in the first place. I want to make love to you on every soft surface in this room, and then fuck you against the kitchen counter when you’re trying to cook dinner, because I just cannot wait to be touching you again.”

Her face is on fire now, her whole body on alert, attuned to him. A hot ball of need pulsing at her core, just from his words. And that’s it. Benedicts words are her final undoing, and she lungs forward and presses her lips back to his, fervent, no questions or uncertainty swirling in her head now, just unbridled need and want and a feeling she isn’t ready to name urging her on.

He matches her intensity, kissing her fiercely, biting at her lip, her throat, the exposed part of her collarbone, pushing her t-shirt down her shoulder to get to more of her. His hands roaming up her back, into her hair, holding her steady against him.

“Ben, I…” she starts, but her words leave her as his mouth moves to her breasts, biting at her through her thin t-shirt. His hands move down to her waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of the fabric, lifting it up as they move over her ribs. She reaches for it and pulls the shirt over her head with one swift movement, wanting less between them. A needy hum sounds in Ben’s throat and he leans forward, kissing and nuzzling between her breasts, his hands reaching around her to unclasp her bra and pull it away from her skin. She gasps, her breasts exposed to him for the first time, her nipples pebbling, hard and taut and waiting. He palms the fullness of her in his large hands, and then takes a nipple into his mouth. Licking, biting, making her writhe on his lap from the feel of his tongue, with the way he sucks on her with his hot, wet mouth. He switches to her other breast, but keeps a hand on the first, his fingers twisting and pulling at her. It’s almost too much, how quickly he’s pushing her higher and higher in her need, but it also isn’t enough, not nearly.

As if he could hear her thoughts, his fingers start moving down her stomach, towards the waistband of her leggings.

“Wait,” she rasps, and he stills, his eyes looking to her for what she wants. What she needs.

“You’re still dressed,” she says, putting her hands on his chest, smoothing his shirt under her fingers.

He chuckles, and kisses her on the tip of her nose, before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor.

“Better?” he asks, smirking at her, her fingers already roaming the expanse of his chest.

“Much.”

“May I?” he asks, his fingers trailing along the top of her leggings, not quite dipping under the fabric.

“Please, Ben,” she breathes out, and he makes a low sound in his throat.

“Fuck,” he says, his hands working under the fabric. “Never stop saying my name.”

And then his fingers are pushing her panties aside.

“So wet for me love,” he says, kissing up her neck, nipping at her ear, his fingers stroking, up and down along her slit, finally pushing up against her clit, rubbing it teasingly. She moves against him, searching for more friction, pushing herself forward, trapping his hand between her and his own length, straining against his jeans. He breathes out hard, moving his hand up so that he can feel more of the warm heat radiating from her core.

“I want to make this good for you, love. But if you keep grinding into me like that…” she pushes against him again.

“I’m not worried, Ben,” she says, breathily. “But I need you inside of me. Now.”

She grinds against him again, wanting to feel more of him. Wanting him inside of her.

“Fuck,” he says again, tightening his arms around her waste and lifting her up with him. “Bedroom. We need to get to the bedroom.”

While his hands are busy carrying her across the living room, she uses hers to explore the expanse of his chest, to slide over his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair, pulling lightly at it as her mouth follows behind on the same path, leaving kisses across his shoulders and up to his ear.

“If you keep doing that,” he whispers, and she can hear the smile in his voice, “I might drop you.”

“You would never,” she giggles, just as he sets her down on the side of the bed, stretching his body out over her.

She smiles. This is Ben, she thinks, her Ben. The funny, flirty man she’s known forever. He’s still the same person he’s always been, only now it’s so much more. He smiles back down at her, but then his face shifts as he presses her body into the mattress with his own.

“Pants. Off. Now,” she says, her hands finding their way to the button of his jeans, undoing the zipper and tugging at them. He straightens and pulls them down his waste, taking his boxers along with them.

“Holy shit, Ben,” she says, without even meaning to. His cock is ready and waiting, and my god, they are not supposed to be as appealing as his is to her. She has never had this kind of reaction before. She wants to take it in her mouth, to lick up his shaft and suck his head into her mouth and feel it in the back of her throat.  She looks up at him, and he is looking away, suddenly blushing. Boyish and bashful, for just a minute. As if this, coming from her, has thrown him. And she remembers that this is new for him too – the two of them, like this. It lasts for only a moment, but it makes her heart ache.

“Look at me, Ben,” she says quietly. He meets her eyes, the smolder back in them now. “My god, you are the most amazing thing I have ever seen.” His mouth quirks.

“Isn’t that my line?” he says, teasing. Clearly deflecting her praise.

“No. No, I get to take care of you too now. And you need to know how perfect you are. How much I want you, just as much.”

And then his mouth is on hers again, hot and persistent, and his hands are back at her waist, pushing at the last of her clothing. She breaks away from the kiss and pushes at him to stand back so she can lift her hips and help him pull the leggings and panties down and off her.

“Holy shit,” he says. He’s mimicking her reaction to him, but from the look in his eyes, she’s not sure he even realizes it. And then he is back in her arms, kissing up her neck, biting at her ear. Whispering to her. “I’ve thought about you for so long. I’ve imagined what it would be like, to see all of you. For you to let me, to want me to. But my god, I could never have imagined how beautiful you would be.” He pushes against her, skin to skin for the first time, his hard length grinding against her core. They both hiss at the contact.

“Condom?” he rasps, and she points to the bedside drawer. She pulls herself farther up the bed as she watches him retrieve the condom and roll it down his shaft, then make his way back to her.

“Love,” he says, crawling between her thighs, his eyes on hers. “I want this to be perfect, but you have to tell me what you like, ok? If somethings not working, I need to know.”

She nods and pulls him down for a kiss, as he reaches down and angles himself into her, and then he is there, pushing inside, filling her.

“Fuck,” he says, lowly, seating himself fully inside her. “So warm and wet and perfect.”

“Oh,” she says, moaning as he starts to move inside her. She feels so full, and Ben is there, looking at her as he thrusts. Then he is kissing, nipping at every part of her he can reach. He pulls back, sitting up on his knees and watching the point where they are connected for just a moment before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer to him, angling upward as he lifts one of her legs up over her shoulder. He hits a spot inside her as he does, and her eyes shut.

“Fuck,” she says, trying to angle herself to the spot again.

“Their?” he asks, hitting the same angle again.

“Yes,” she says, “Fuck, yes, right there.”

He hits the spot again and she keens.

“But Ben, I –“ she starts to say, but loses her voice as his fingers, those gorgeous fingers that she has watched write, and paint, and hold the stem of a wine glass, are touching her again. Gently, at first, his thrusts slow and purposeful, in time with his hands as they stroke at her.

“I know,” he says. “I told you, I want to take care of you.”

She looks up and sees that he’s watching her, her reactions, her movements as he strokes. Then he looks up and catches her eyes, stilling.

“I’m going to make you come,” he says, voice husky. “But I need you to tell me if what I’m doing is good. If you’re getting close, if there’s something else you need.”

She nods, shakily. Just hearing him talk to her, in that voice, while he is inside of her, is doing things to her she can’t explain.

Then he is moving again, rocking into her body as he touches her, starting where their bodies are joined and moving up to her clit and circling there. Slower, than faster, building her up, the heat growing between them. It feels amazing and she loves all of it. But she’s not quite there. She’s never been good at asking for what she wants, what she needs.

“Tell me,” he says, kissing up the leg that he has over his shoulder.

“Talk to me,” she says. “I want to hear…” she can’t say exactly what she wants, but he understands.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he says. “Seeing you like this, naked, beneath me. I have thought about you in every fucking way, but none of it compares.”

She cannot help the sounds that come out of her now, whimpers when he pulls his fingers away from her clit, moans when he pushes them back up.

“Always so controlled, so collected for everyone else. I want this part of you. To see you lose all control. To watch you as you come, to feel you clench around my cock. I swear, I know already I’ll come with you, just from watching you, feeling you,” he moves his hand away, reaching for her own on the bed.

“Show me,” he says. She can hear the need in his voice. How hard he is trying to hold on to his own control. “Help me get you there love. I want to see what you like.” He pulls her hand with his own, back to where they are joined. Encouraging her movement with his fingers, following her lead. And then she is showing him, moving to her clit, rubbing and touching in the way that she knows will get her there. Her hips move, loving the friction, wanting more, desperate to mee his thrusts.

“Yes,” he praises. “Yes, fuck, so hot, so wet, so good.”

She pushes harder, feels him everywhere, inside her, around her. She is coiled so tight, about to snap. Then he turns his head, bites gently into her calf, and she is gone, crying out as waves of pleasure move through her body, tensing and arching and unable to stop.

“Fuck, yes,” he says, grasping at her hips now, canting his own, faster into her as she rides out the high. “I’m going to come so hard inside of you, fuck, I can’t –“ but then his body goes rigid, his cock pulsating inside of her, he says her name as he buries himself once more, riding out his own pleasure.

They both breath hard, slick and sweaty against each other, his head in the crook of her neck, his body over hers, holding his weight off her shakily.

“I..” she says, “that was, I didn’t know…”

He chuckles as he leaves light kisses on her collarbone, across her shoulder.

“Shh,” he whispers. “I’ve got you, love. I told you I would take care of you.”

He lifts his face to look into her eyes, sweeps the hair off her forehead.

“I’ve always got you, my always girl."