#had to stop myself from imagining an entire store as the waste in it

[skunkes]

dpes anyone have

a weird fixation on waste. my sister got me that little macaroni plush and it came with a heart shaped box with mac and cheese flavored gummies and i ate 2 and did not like them

but not only are there many of them, they also come in packages of 2 gummies, each pair in a little plastic container, wrapped in plastic. And i keep feeling so sick about it because whether or not I eat them all or just toss them im contributing to waste in some form.

But also even if they had not been given to me the waste would have already been produced and existed. And I think abt it and feel horrible all the time forever. Especially after that whole thing abt how so little plastic is actually recycled. I know there's not rly anything I can do abt it but I work myself into horrendous guilt and worry anyway

[thenightlymirror]

I feel like the final straw of not being able to speak to anyone would be if I stopped being able to write here. It would be like forgetting how to talk to myself.

I feel it a bit now. I know a big part is that my boss followed me on here years ago, but I’m not sure if she reads any of this or not? Lol. I don’t think she does. I guess it wouldn’t matter.

The same thing happened about 10 years ago when the people I worked with at the grocery store found my blog. Haha. Oh no. That ended up being fine. You just find ways over time to explore how to express feelings you can’t say in different ways. Philosophy is vague posting, essentially. You just take it up a level of abstraction. I’ve always been good at that. I’m far worse at just saying what I mean.

Harper took the weekend off to see the eclipse back home, so, I had to work. If you told me that in 2017, I’d have leapt off a bridge with a concrete block tied around my ankle. I said, immediately, several times, Well I’m just calling off then. But, I have no money. Another coworker was taking his family down to Indianapolis, but he ditched me.

I broke into the cemetery at night to take some supplies and make some eclipse viewers. I got the text at 5:30am that I had been ditched. I asked my boss if I could just take a half day, and she said I HAD to come in, which of course the correct response would be to just say “Yeah, I’m sick. Good luck today!” But I juggled driving, getting stuck in traffic, my car breaking down, clouds, terrorist attacks, and just went to work.

Now, that said, it was a beautiful blue sky’d day. Hard to imagine it any clearer. I took lunch at 1:20 and spent the next hour driving around the cemetery observing the eclipse. Found some people sitting by the swan lakes and they let me borrow their eclipse glasses and I showed them my shoebox viewer. The changes in the sunlight on the cemetery were amazing. A wheezing twilight like the battery was going out on the sun. A few minutes after totality, the night birds started singing, just in time for the sun to start coming back, which caused a ruckus of confused birds in the marshy lagoons to start croaking up.

It was an experience, and I enjoyed it a lot. I’m trying to repress feeling like my entire life is a failure. It reminds me of missing Godspeed You Black Emperor on my 21st birthday, the day the Iraq war began. Negative punctuation marks on an empty life. A huge waste from start to finish.

But it would be a shame if I could no longer express myself anywhere. I don’t think matters of survival are necessarily narcissism. Why is it always so important to break me down?

[novemberfyshenuke]

Tranquility

“I remember being a toddler, running around my grandfather’s house and giggling as I played with my younger sister and my dog,” he kept quiet as he leaned against the bark of the tall birch. His gaze never left the small patch of tulips we planted together just a few hours earlier.

“My grandfather would be sitting at the dining table; reading a book on any normal day. I always thought it was a waste of time. I mean, why read books if you don’t have a class or test to study? Hardly seems entertaining.” He chuckles, shaking his head at my words. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling when I asked him what he found so amusing.

“You seem to enjoy reading with me on rainy days.” He commented, shifting his body as he sat closer. “What a silly thought. I can’t imagine not seeing you standing in front of a book shop and examining all the covers with no intent of actually purchasing one.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes as I hugged my knees to my chest. “Believe it. I liked playing a whole lot more than reading characters talk about God and math problems.”

He let out a breathy sound, coming to a realization. I let my eyes wander, scanning every bit of the garden the sun and wind graced. “I didn’t really expect to find books with characters who had their own lives and struggles; things not bound by just theoretical sciences and what was right or wrong. That was what bothered me when I was younger y’know. If I was right or wrong. Especially in the eyes of God. I detested anyone and everyone who did anything that might have offended him.”

“Oh, how devoted you are.” His tone dripped with sarcasm; head thrown back against the trunk as he took in the sunlight peeking between the leaves. I shoved his arm, grimacing lightly while he laughed to himself.

“Anyway, that’s not really the point. When I first started to read as a hobby, I begged my mom to get me an entire set of books for preteens that I kept my eyes on. Money was tight, so I never really got the answer I wanted.” I fiddled with the blades of grass that tickled my sides, rolling them across my fingers. He responds with a small hum at the small pause of my story, signaling me to continue.

“She would take me to a second-hand bookshop and let me pick whatever book I wanted, just as long as it was in our budget. After a while, I garnered a small collection.” I smiled, a bubbling warmth filling my stomach as I thought about the stack of beat-up novels and short stories I stored in the corner of my room. “I really loved those books. It got to a point where my mom would boast about how well-read I am. Which is bizarre if you think about the fact I hadn’t learned to read until first grade and I read at a snail’s pace too!”

He cracks a smile, finally facing towards me with a playful look. “Not much has changed. The only difference is that your slowness transferred to your comprehension.”

“Hush!” I bared my teeth at him, leaning my head on his shoulder with a small thump. “It’s as if you never run out of insults when it comes to teasing me.”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he laughs while his arm snakes around my shoulders, holding me firmly and closer to his warmth. I sigh, pursing my lips before speaking once again. “My aunt was one of the many who hear from her often. She would also let me borrow some of her books, let me enjoy them, then talk to me about the plot.

My grandfather also has a large collection to share. Whenever he bought new copies of the books he liked, or maybe old books he enjoyed and wanted me to treasure as well, he would talk about the plot with the biggest smile on his face. I’d accept them, of course. I read them too. Recently, none of them have really caught my attention.”

I frowned, looking down at my hands. The wind bellows a silent tune, brushing through his short blond hair; much like the color of ripe wheat in a field. I shivered, his hand rubbing along my arm as he held me closer, the heat from his touch warming me from the crisp afternoon air. His other hand reaches over to hold mine, and squeezed it gently. With a deep shaky breath, I continue.

“I…felt guilty. It was something he was so passionate about and I brushed it off…but it wasn’t like I wasn’t interested in reading it. I just…felt drained.”

His thumb moves along the base of my palm. He silently sat there as he patiently waited for me to steady myself. “Passion, motivation, my entire will—I lost all of that for more than four years. I don’t even know how I kept moving.

And yet it feels so wrong. Why should anyone else have to experience the repercussions of my heartache? Why should they feel like they’ve lost me just because I lost myself?”

He parts his lips, ready to rebut. I speak before he gets a word out, “It was rhetorical, don’t answer that.” He simply looks away. I continue, “I just…wish I could have done some more, you know?”

“I know.” He replied in less than a beat, planting a small kiss on my head. The silence sat for a moment before he added, “I know all too well, darling. But you’re the one who’s said not to dwell in the past.”

“Ah, so I’m just a hypocrite.”

“Yes.”

“…”

He smiles, fingers interlocking with mine as he hums a small tune. “Cherish those memories; but don’t let them overshadow the ones you’re making in the present.”

His words were soft as they fell on my ears. A rather short-lived tranquility before he pinches my cheek, exasperation lacing his tone. “Like the memories we’re making now. Don’t go daydreaming on something so important.”

I yelp, wrestling away from his hold while protesting his actions.  

|Yeah so...idk. That's all I got|

[fm-r-iznow]

OMNISPHERE 2

I JUST DOWNLOADED WOW!!!! and in comparison, to Native Instruments. a big difference. I'm going to try not to sound like a complete hater because Karma is a rough thing on the inner regions that will mess you up totally.

Okay I Purchased Komplet solely for the purpose of getting Abynth 5

but when I got it I did not know you had to set up kontakt since anthing else never needed a player anyway. I've bought plugins before, and it never needed these things before. Long rabbit hole depression story later. I somehow figured it out on my own. which nobody explained to me beforehand.

which I know indicates I'm not very bright. Perhaps...

anyway

I buckled down and bought Omnisphere despite what I heard some guy on youtube said Omnisphere is overrated. Now coming from a guy who makes Beats. He says. I would imagine he needs a more minimal Pallet of sounds. comprisingly of drums dominantly which is fine. I do not scoff, and another guy who he is in a back and forth "war" about the community and what not. and the guy is doing a complete.

hate on bringing their own children into it. with accusations of evil demons and hating on each other's women, I think. and then the other guy stated omnisphere is now deleted from his computer because CPU issues and so on. and Later in another video He does a video where he reinstalls Omnisphere.

As entertaining as this can be I find it dizzying.

One article on google said you needed like 200 GBs to install the software for content and to record with it.

and you may need to use a an external drive to store these plugins.

from todays experience this is not true at all.

And honestly, I wish I did not buy the Komplete 3 years ago. It really fucked me up emotionally spiritually and physically. which I can't blame it entirely on Native Instrument people. In the end I blame myself for not completely moving on which I tried and it wayed heavily on my mind and was reminded by this mistake often by my significate other.

In comparrison. having what I paid for three years ago I feel vindicated. Now comparing the two companies.

Komplete. Its good I feel like now I didn't waste my money now and I can stop kickng my ASS for it. everything works and now I need to figure out the drum machines.

Now looking at things is an Eyesore. I'm 53 yrs. old and I wear glasses. and I find the menu a little too small and my eyes strain and tear up. If this was not I problem I would not be in the market for other software. also They discontinued Abynth 5 which I think is amazing and my favorite plugin. which is fullfilled my expectations of what it is.

So today I got The Omnisphere 2 because I wanted to get the Bob Moog tribute plugins. but I also wanted the Omnisphere. reason being getting into Hard Synths was another rabbit hole for me. with with novation. but thats another story all together

basically, I don't have space for Moogs all over my office so the plugins are my best option until I get a house.

So Omnisphere off the bat is very intuitive as to what.

I want to record. The sounds are amazing. I've already recorded 3 test tracks just to see what I'm dealing with.

The look and functionality of it is great on the eyes and I'm wearing glasses. I don't need to get a 50-inch screen to see what the hell I'm doing. and the sound menu is easy to read and access. whereas Kontakt is confusing. despite the fact it does work and is competent. and yet Omnisphere has better sounds. at this point I don't see why Kontakt is so necessary to a DAW. because a daw never needs Kontakt to be able to use any plugin before. this is what

really messed me up.

Another issue I was worried I got the Omnisphere would I need Kontakt, would it open in my Daw? and would it take a big chunk of GB's? Well the 200 GB scenario is only true with Komplete I had 800 plus GBs on my laptop now down to 630 GBs I thought I needed the whole thing when I only needed Absynth and other ambient sounds.

I'm very happy about that it only took about 64 GBs and honestly the sounds are richer fuller and you can shape it with in the preset itself which tickled me pink. I thought I needed to add other reverbs delay. which does work with Komplete but seems more functional and precise with Omnisphere.

It basically boils down to preference. it the realm of cars. Komplete is more like a gas guzzling Hummer with the promise of Tattoos babes chic Jeans baby gap the gap, pottery barn, flip flops, crocs, a Pitbull a bad ass status with bells and WHISTLES. with a man bud or smooth bald head and lots of finger tattoos.

Omnisphere is more fuel efficient sturdy reliable. there are no tattoos unless you want them and no perfectly groomed beard and and your involved in a realistic loving relationship.

I love the Abynth but the others is lacking to my expectations. which I will buy Plasmonic from the creator Brian Clevinger. later. I'm also getting other Plugins as well. so, You can have both if you want.

You probably have more money than I do and that's not a shocker. Im just glad I don't to spend more money than I have. what a bad Lesson I had to learn. Very bad extremely bad so bad, evil depressing bad.... and bad bad bad andfilm score 2 more times BAD PI

You can both and more. Just don't let the fan boys tell you otherwise.. Im sure they got paid for their review . I for one paid for everything and lost then gained it back somehow by divine intervention.

get them both if you like. if you need to make beats get the drums you like. if you like filmscore get Omnisphere

[cess-is-here]

Stars Around My Scars

“Time is everything we have and don’t.”

My life amid this unprecedented pandemic is more like a roller coaster ride than anything else imaginable. Everything from elation to terror to shock to a host of other life-altering experiences. I would not alter any of these occurrences if given the opportunity to do so. If any of those things hadn't happened, I wouldn't be who I am now.

In all candor, I was rather pleased when the lockdown finally began. My academic year had ended early, classes were canceled, and the sun was beaming. I felt good and confident that I would be happy. Really, remaining at home can't be that challenging, can it? Imagine being able to skip chores and lie in bed all day. Given that we own a sari-sari store, I would probably spend most of my vacation there if the lockdown hadn’t happened. Obviously, then, I benefited from the advent of the pandemic. Nothing was done but lie in bed for the entirety of those days. I was thumbing through my phone, checking out various social media apps, and taking in an entire season of shows on Netflix. Just generally wasting time. After some time had passed, the reality of the situation started to sink in.

In those moments, I could only think of how wonderful life was without the burdens of home and classroom obligations. Looking back now, I see how self-absorbed and egocentric I was.  It's like the world is ending, people are dying, many are losing their loved ones, and yet there I was, rejoicing in the fact that a pandemic has occurred. I didn't understand how mundane being at home would be until we started having issues as a family. The expected family drama has finally begun. In most cases, I think families have grown closer together during lockdowns. Since everyone is stuck at home, it's a great chance to spend quality time together as a family. But that is not the case with my family. 

“The longer I stay at home, the more homeless I look.”

My lowest point in life. All the trauma, all the anxiety—I didn't even realize I was feeling them at the time. The connection that I had with my family began to show signs of strain. To this day, I have no idea what the root of the problem was that led to my alienation from them. But I suppose that one of the reasons was that we were not accustomed to being at home with the whole family at the same time for an extended period of time. Before the epidemic, my family and I didn't get to spend much time together because we were all so preoccupied with our individual lives. Therefore, it is really awkward for us to spend time together at home. At least, that's how I felt about it.

I found myself in several disagreements with both my parents and my siblings. It wasn't until then that I realized how little I actually know about my family, and the same goes for them for me. There are a great number of things that set us apart, and you should know that I am not the sort to just give in and back down. I have a theory that one of the reasons we get into disputes a lot is because neither one of us wants to acknowledge our own shortcomings. This was the mere similarity that we all have. 

It even came to the point where one of my family members almost ran away from home. After that it was very hard to interact with that person. He was always in such a bad mood and what’s worse was it came to the point where he physically hurt me. I can still vividly recall the searing sensation that spread across my face where his hands had landed, as well as the buzzing sound that emanated from both of my ears. It seemed as if time had stopped moving, and all of a sudden he was so far apart from me. I believe that it was a depiction of how that one act had resulted in the severing of all of my ties with him.

Since that happened, I’ve been plagued by anxiety. My entire body would start trembling so badly whenever there would be loud noises or voices of people shouting with one another. Suddenly, it would be difficult to breathe, and going outside wouldn't be much of an option because of the lockdown. Being that my family isn't exactly the most open bunch, I had no choice but to keep everything to myself. Not until I figured out how to cope with my anxieties, anyway.

“Healing is not linear.”

There's a common belief that if someone in your family has wronged you in any manner, you must forgive them no matter what. “Pamilya mo pa ‘rin naman sila,” as the old Filipino proverb goes. It drives me crazy when people say things like this to me because it just doesn't make any sense. I stand my ground, and I have some good reasons why that adage is bunk. One thing to remember is that just because they are related to you does not absolve them of responsibility if they cause you emotional distress. Second, your mental and emotional health will suffer if you continue to be with toxic people. Finally, getting out of an abusive relationship is the only way to recover from it. These are the primary reasons why our family members do not have an excuse to dump their traumatic experiences on us. There are still a lot of other reasons why this is the case, but these are the most important ones.

I am not, however, advocating that people harbor resentment or refuse to forgive members of their own families. Despite having made peace with the past, one lesson I took away from this is that you may forgive someone without forgetting what they did. I'm to the point where I can have a regular conversation with that person, but there are still moments when it all comes crashing back in. That's fine, by the way. Healing is not linear. 

Everyone has the option of forgiving, but forgetting might be challenging. To heal, it's fine to take things slowly and focus on one thing at a time. It's ultimately up to you to decide if you want to forgive, and if you don't, it doesn't make you a horrible person. Forgiving someone who has wronged you against your will isn't always the best way to heal from the hurt you've suffered.

After the horrible experience that I went through, I was never the same person again. Despite the fact that it had a positive and negative impact on me, I believe that such things are an inevitable part of life. Everything we've been through up to this point has contributed to making us who we are. Therefore, we shouldn't just stop there but should instead continue to shape ourselves in various ways. Let us not let our suffering be the defining factor of our entire lives, but rather let us use it as the impetus to get better. Sometimes we slip backwards in our recovery, and that's okay; relapses are a natural part of the process, and in no way undermines the progress that we have already made.

“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.”

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: As the summer comes to a close, Spencer and Y/N start feeling a shift in their relationship. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, thigh riding, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, breeding kink, one line of daddy kink,  Word Count: 4.3k exactly, love how that turned out lol

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

NOTE: Thank you all for sticking with me through this long wait, I feel so bad for having to keep putting it off. But I’m very proud of where this ended up, and I’m so glad you’ve all been so excited about it! I had so much fun writing this story, so again, thank you very much for reading and indulging me in this weird fantasy lolol ❤ Love you guys! And, as always, thank you to the lovely Em ( @boldlyvoid ) for being my beta for this series! Your feedback and support has been a big help from the start, ILY

———

AUGUST 12th

"I don't wanna hear a single word, understand?"

Not like I have a choice; As soon as the harsh whisper leaves Spencer's mouth, his hand is covering my own and my back is being pressed up against the wall of the storage closet.

But that's all he does. I wait for him to make a move, but instead he insists on being a tease.

"What? You've been trying to get my attention all night, and now that you have it, you're not gonna do anything with it?"

"I want you to do it for me," I mumble into his hand.

He shoves me harder into the wall and slots his knee in between my legs, spreading them apart and making me sigh.

"You wanted it so bad... So take it..."

Watching the amusement dance through his features as I grind down on his leg and whine into his mouth only excites me more, right next to the knowledge that downstairs the house is congested with people visiting to celebrate my mom's new promotion at work.

Needless to say, it doesn't take me very long to start feeling my stomach tense. My hips are wild as they roll over his leg, whines spewing from my mouth and into his hand. I look up into his eyes, doing my best to show him how much I could never grow tired of this, and he returns the favor by lifting his leg higher and giving me more friction.

In no time at all, I'm shuddering against him, feeling his hand press harder into my mouth to muffle the high-pitched whines that I can't help but expel.

"Nice and quick... Good girl..." Spencer muses, slowly peeling himself away from me. "You're really looking forward to being spoiled later, aren't you..."

The grin that spreads over my face is unwavering. "Definitely. Knowing Mom, she'll be passed out cold in like an hour."

I know I'm the one who brought her up, but it still stings a little when Spencer smiles fondly. "Yeah, she's a lightweight alright... You sure you can handle all this time without me until then?"

Despite the butterflies I get when he says it, mischievous and downright delectable, his hands reach out to grab my waist and pull me closer to him, I roll my eyes. "You underestimate me."

He studies my face for a moment, a pretty smile flashing before me in the dim light before he kisses my cheek. "Sure."

And when he leaves, I wait.

Minutes later, my skin still burns from his touch.

———

The moment my eyes open the next morning, it all comes back in flashes.

His lips are on my skin, travelling lower and lower...

His hands trail all over my body, featherlight in a way that leaves me with goosebumps.

His tongue starts slow, taking its time to taste me and savor every precious second.

His voice is like the sweetest prayer, whispering praises that leave my head dizzy and my heart pounding.

His lips languidly open and close around the most sensitive parts of my body, in tandem with that sweet, magnificent tongue as each action pulls sighs from the very depths of my soul.

His hands reach up and tangle with mine as he makes me come on his tongue, over and over again until I'm practically numb and the lull of sleep drags me under.

His hands now ghost over my bare skin, along my sides and down to my waist. I hum happily and push back against him when I feel it.

He's hard.

"How long before you think she wakes up?" he whispers in my ear.

"Not long... Maybe we... shouldn't risk i—"

The words fall off a cliff, never to be seen again when he slowly enters me, gripping my leg and forcing it over his own. "I'll be quick."

I can tell, though, that he doesn't want to be. It's present in the way he enters me, over and over with motions that feel rather stunted and definitely too rushed.

"Baby, no," I whine, reaching behind me to hold his hips still with one hand. "Fuck me slow... Don't rush..."

"But... Your mom..."

"Please..."

Spencer sighs, though not from exasperation. No, his breath is long and teeming with relief, hands gently roaming over the entirety of my body as his hips move slower. He's taking his time, relishing every second and feeling me gradually get more slick at his undoing.

His lips are on my neck, not providing marks to match the ones hidden on the inside of my thighs and my chest, but merely resting there. He kisses me in between gentle thrusts, letting out small whimpers of his own when I clench tightly around him.

This...

This is different.

We've had slow morning sex before, but never like this. Somehow, I find myself drifting, like I'm being carried away by his current. There's nothing but me, Spencer, and our breathing... Our bodies, our air, our souls...

This is what I imagine making love feels like.

Which is why I barely notice when it slips from my mouth— Three words that should feel more daunting due to the weight they hold and the way they ultimately change everything. And yet, whispering “I love you,” in a nearly breathless string of syllables feels incredibly natural. It’s more sincere than anything I think I’ve ever told him, so much so that I don’t even think about what it will mean in the long-run. Instead I let it fall from my lips again and again without regret or consequence.

He doesn't stop, either. Spencer continues to fuck me softly, like it's all he knows how to do. In fact, my confession only seems to make him relax more.

And that's what finally pushes me over the edge.

His name escapes my mouth in a whisper that sounds more like a plea not to leave, and he holds me closer to him. Our bodies are flush together, my back resting perfectly against his chest as he takes a few final thrusts and empties himself inside of me.

If we stayed like that forever, I could die happy.

And actually, that wouldn't be far from the truth, given that if we did stay here forever, my mom would certainly find us and kill us.

The thought makes me sigh.

"You have to leave..."

"I know..."

Spencer pulls me closer, squeezing me tight and giving me a long, bold kiss on the jaw before he rips himself away and takes my heart with him.

AUGUST 18th

Things are significantly different now.

After the morning I let slip that I love him, Spencer and I had been intimate once. We found ourselves alone while Mom was at the grocery store and instinctually came together.

It was quick, and it was fast and rough, and while it obviously felt good, something was off. But I knew it wasn't a physical problem. Like I said, it felt as good as any other time we'd been together, but it just wasn't right.

I hate it.

It hasn't even been a week since then, and I miss him. I miss our dynamic, and I miss the way I used to feel when he touched me.

So I stalk into the office and lean against the doorframe, watching Spencer as he goes through a large pile of paperwork. His hands and his eyes are moving at near light-speed, and the way he concentrates almost makes me feel bad for my intrusion—Honestly, I could have looked at him all damn day.

But there's a bigger plan in mind.

"What'cha up to?"

He looks up and greets me with a smile. "School starts in a few weeks. I'm just trying to get my coursework prepared."

"Oh... You... mind if I keep you company?"

"Not at all."

It's an innocent enough exchange, though I'm hoping I can change that. Mom doesn't get off work for another few hours, so it gives me ample time to do what I have planned.

I walk over and nudge his leg with my knee, and he lets me in. I climb on his lap, and after giving me a brief kiss on the cheek he returns to going through his paperwork.

My face turns and I nestle it into his neck. He hums softly when I kiss the skin under his jaw, once, and then twice, and then over and over in quick succession.

I can feel him smile. "What are you up to, princess?"

Hearing the nickname return in earnest makes me smile. I nip softly at his neck and run my tongue along it. "Mmm, trouble."

"Sounds like you," he mutters through a sultry sigh once I start going lower, kissing the top of his shoulder.

I slide my hands up the front of his chest and gently undo the top button, giving me access to more skin. "You love it when I make trouble..."

"Hmm, I'm not sure about that."

I slide off his lap then, crouching between his legs and looking up at him with a smile. "Really?"

All he does is look down at me, his pupils growing bigger by the second. So I continue my venture, sliding my hands up the insides of his legs until I reach the belt. "So you don't love when I do this?"

Spencer sighs, helping me by lifting his hips a little and letting me slide down layers of fabric until his dick is right in front of me.

I don't waste any time, taking him in my hand and bringing him to my mouth. He's still not entirely hard yet, but I don't mind at all. In fact, I let out a happy sigh just before I press kiss after kiss along the entire length of him. From base to tip, I take my time kissing and licking along the salty skin and giving him my full attention. I pull back and admire him, I smile, I kiss and I lick and I squeeze him with my hand... And when he's finally nice and hard, I take the head of his cock in my mouth and suck gently.

"Y/N..."

I hum around him, sinking further down until he hits the back of my throat, and then I come back up and repeat. It's slow. Maybe torturous even, but really I don't mean it to be.

Thankfully Spencer seems to be happy with my speed and technique; His eyes are on the verge of closing and his chest is heaving slowly, fingers gently caressing the sides of my face as I go down on him.

It's this same slow, steadying pace we'd taken before, and it's exactly what we needed.

I can feel his touch on my face, burning into my skin and marking me for all eternity. Likewise, the thick, throbbing weight of his cock sliding over my tongue and down my throat feels just like home— Like it's right where we're meant to be.

Once again, we fit together perfectly.

This epiphany sets a fire deep in the pits of my stomach, and just like that our spark is back again.

I look up and catch his eye, and he lets me keep it, forcing himself to keep his eyelids open to watch me. My pace remains consistent and slow, and and he brings both of his hands under my chin. The way he holds my face is so gentle, so loving and sensual that I nearly burst with tears at the sentiment alone, and it doesn't take long for him to start letting go.

He stutters my name when he comes, still using the pads of his nimble fingers to caress my throat. I take in and swallow each rope of cum until it's gone, and even then I keep him in my mouth, gently bobbing my head up and down just for the sake of feeling him inside me somehow.

But then he lifts me off of him and his dick falls limp in his lap. I sigh and lean down, kissing it a few times before just resting my head in his lap as he strokes my hair.

"You're right," Spencer says after a few moments.

"About what?"

"I do love when you make trouble."

We laugh, and I lift my head to look up at him.

"I know... It's your favorite."

"That it is, princess."

AUGUST 26th

I wish more than anything that this orientation would just end. My left foot is anxiously tapping the cool white tile of the floor as I wait to be next in line to grab my paperwork and get on my way— To home for what I'm sure will be a long weekend trying to find free minutes to steal with Spencer.

In another life it might have gotten tedious and painful sneaking around for so long, but I found it excited me. Sure, my feelings for Spencer were growing at an exponential rate, but ever since I visited him in our home office, we seemed to be getting back our groove— With an added flair I might add...

Each time we were together was more intense than the last. His hands got more possessive, his kisses got deeper and more passionate, and the way he looked at me?

I could swear I felt him falling just as deep as I was.

The smile it all brought to my face in that moment fell a little short when they called me next in line, and I fell into a joyful step forward to collect my things.

When I get home, though, things aren't as joyful.

The first thing I notice is that Spencer's car isn't in the driveway or even on the street. He's usually here on weekends, so I wonder if he's out for something, or even out with my mom on a lunch date or something.

I try not to think about that thought too much and step inside, hoping to at least enjoy the silence for a little while, lest they really are out together.

I think I'm out of the woods when I hear the television, a laugh track of some kind, but then it turns into the Friends theme blaring through the speakers, and my heart nearly falls into the pit of my stomach.

There's only one reason Mom would be watching Friends. She swears up and down that she hates it, but it always ends up on TV when there's one specific thing she's going through, because "Hearing them complain about their stupid problems make me feel better about my own!"

Her own problem being a breakup.

For a moment I wonder if maybe Spencer had told her about us. Or maybe she found something somehow that would give us away. I make my way slowly through the space until I reach the living room, my brain making up every possible horrendous outcome— Not even to prepare for the blow, because I know that absolutely nothing could prepare me for the wrath of my mother in any situation... I simply can't help myself from feeling guilty and heartbroken as my stomach churns and my heart beats so loud I can barely hear the TV anymore.

When I come into her view, Mom freezes and lets out a large breath of shaky air. The small tub of ice cream in her hands shakes just as much, and I can tell she's trying her hardest not to burst into tears.

I've never seen her this upset before. Normally it's just anger and annoyance, but this time she looks utterly broken.

"M—Mom?" I stutter, even though she probably can't even hear what I'm saying over the TV. I still don't know if she knows about my involvement with Spencer, but I feel like she'd be more angry with me than sad, so I figure it's safe to come closer.

The moment I take a step forward, she sets the ice cream on the floor and opens her arms to me, a choked sob forcing its way out. It almost makes me cry, just seeing her this heartbroken, and in an instant I'm running to her and snuggling into her side as she hugs me.

"What happened?" I will myself to ask, even though I still have no idea what it means for me. Maybe that's selfish, but if he's taking himself out of Mom's life, surely that has to mean he's removing himself from mine as well, right? And if he's just leaving without saying anything... God, that would ruin me, too.

Still, I wait to hear what Mom will say.

"He broke up with me," is all she says, through a long and tired sigh. She mutes the TV and then holds me tighter. I can feel that there's pure sadness controlling her every movement, and it crushes me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just... He said he didn't love me, and he wasn't feeling it anymore."

"That's all?"

"Uh huh... It was so sudden, too, like... I thought we were really getting along, and I just... I don't understand how he couldn't feel it... I felt all of it, and he just... He felt nothing. How could he feel nothing?"

I really don't know what to say anymore... It seems to me like Spencer really told her the truth and ended their relationship because he didn't feel anything for her anymore, but... I always knew he had to have felt something... I guess I just didn't realize someone could fall out of it so quickly.

The guilt overwhelms me then, when it dawns on me that I made him fall out of it so fast. I was there, taking up small moments of his time until, eventually, I'd taken up so much of it that it wasn't just his time I was stealing, but also his love. His fire, and his passion... Month by month, day by day, I was draining the love he had for my mom and distilling it to meet my own desires.

And now, here I am, in my mothers arms as she weeps over a man she truly loved, all because he and I were selfish and treasonous.

If Spencer decides he still wants to be with me after this, I really don't know if I could do it. Even after all this time... After all this trouble and guilt and glorious treason...

He could never really be mine.

———

Y/N,

I knew this day would come from the moment I met you. Of course, I didn't know how far my feelings would take me, but in the end I knew I would one day have to leave you and your mother behind.

Day by day my feelings for you grew stronger, and it wasn't until you told me you loved me that August Thirteenth that I realized I loved you, too. What we had was always dangerous, but by then my heart was focused solely on you, and I could feel your mother slipping from my grasp.

I pretended for as long as I could, but now you've taken up so much space in my brain that when Eve pulled me near, I almost sighed out your name instead. I knew then that no longer could I "keep up appearances," as I often like to tell you.

Maybe one day you and I can find our way back to each other, but for now, I think it's for the very best that we go our separate ways.

In my wildest dreams I will think of you fondly, and I can only hope that you might do the same.

Always Yours, Spencer

JUNE 19th, SEVEN YEARS LATER

There are so many things I'm thinking about when I come home tonight.

One: I'm a little tipsy and completely fucked out, which reminds me of that night I came home in the exact same state, only to find my mom's old boyfriend, Spencer, unable to sleep and to stop staring at my bare legs. The memory brings a smile to my face.

Two: My feet fucking hurt and I want to get these goddamned shoes off.

Three: The ghost of Spencer's smile when he saw me for the first time in seven years burns in the back of my mind, right next to the ghost of his hands caressing my skin like it had been the first time.

Four: How am I going to spend the rest of the summer back in town knowing what it feels like to have fucked him at all without an ounce of guilt attached to it?

Five: Am I going to tell my mom that I slept with her ex-boyfriend tonight?

Six: Fuck, I'm hungry...

My heels come off as soon as I step through the door.

The light is on, and I can hear Mom laughing in the kitchen with Adam from far away, which brings a fond smile to my face. I'm glad that she's finally happy, with someone who doesn't make me want to fall to my knees, thank you very much.

And truthfully, if I hadn't ran into Spencer at all tonight, I'm not sure I ever would have thought about that whole situation again— It was fucked up, he ended up leaving both of us, and Mom was so deeply devastated after their breakup that I didn't have the heart to tell her I missed him too. I just buried it deep down and tried to move on right alongside her, eventually erasing his memory from my mind, body, and soul.

Well, almost.

There were days, obviously, where his letter hummed inside my pillowcase where he left it, whether I brought it to college or kept it at home, or it sat soundly in my new apartment. His words were always there, spilling into my dreams and dancing with me through our memories; tangled tongues and limbs, wild nights and passionate mornings...

I'd wake up feeling hot to the touch and missing him completely.

Thankfully those days were few and far in between, and for a while I'd stopped thinking of him altogether.

But of course, it turns out that Spencer Reid is in fact, pretty damn inevitable.

That bar downtown was packed, so it was a wonder I'd even ran into him of all people in the first place. What he was doing there I didn't know. And neither do I now, because from the moment we laid eyes on each other, it was this constant state of shell-shock and fire, nothing else. He asked briefly about Mom, I told him she'd been married for four years, and then he joked about how he was surprised I hadn't tried to steal him from her.

Naturally, with that ever so playful look in his eye practically taunting me, I played to his joke and responded with a sultry smile, "The only one I ever wanted to steal was you, Doctor..."

The rest wasn't exactly a blur, but all I'm going to say is that we spent the rest of our time together at his apartment, "catching up on lost time"... And as much as I'd grown out of the submissive role sexually over the years, I found myself crawling back, submitting to him like I'd done it a million times over. And, really, I might as well have.

It's like we'd never stopped.

That being said, I declined his offer to stay the night and told him to give me a call some time before I left to go back to Seattle. Though, not without giving him a thousand goodbye kisses that were rather counterproductive.

Thinking about it makes my cheeks burn hot, though thankfully it's summer, and Mom won't have to question it. Though, if she does, I suppose I could keep it short and sweet and tell her the truth at the very least: that I met up with an old friend who showed me a good time.

"Hey'a, Sweetpea," she greets with a bright wave. She and Adam are obviously a little tipsy, more than me by the looks of it, but I pay it no mind. "How was you're night?"

"Great! Went to a few bars downtown, met up with some friends..."

"Oh, good, well we're glad you got back safe."

I snag a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, then turn back around to see Mom and Adam snuggled in, sharing a smile that would make even the happiest person on the planet sick to their stomach.

Oddly enough, it reminds me of back then, when she was with Spencer, happier than ever and completely oblivious to what was going on in her daughter's life.

The thought makes my stomach flutter, taking me back to earlier in the night when he had his hands tangled in my hair and his mouth attached to my skin, spewing filthy words and praises that had me begging for more...

"I missed you, princess," he whispers, holding himself deep inside me. His fingers brush the matted hair from my face, revealing more of my saccharine smile and eyes that swim with mischief.

"I missed you too," I whine, reaching out and grabbing handfuls of his ass, shoving him even farther inside me and wrapping my legs around him tighter. "...Daddy..."

Spencer loses all semblance of cool, pulling back and slamming into me with full force. I—

"Y/N?"

I blink away his memory, reminding myself of where I am and what I'm doing, finding Mom looking at me with a curious gleam in her eye.

"What are you thinking about?"

With a small smile, I nod in her direction. "Oh, uh... You'll never believe who I ran into tonight."

———

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[nightowlfandom]

Yandere! Hawks (Keigo Takami) - Scratches and Bruises

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Alright I’ll do it...I’LL WRITE HAWKS SMUT....but I won’t like it.

Okay people so This is gonna have talks of death, abuse, yandere shit.

Leggo!

...

“What’s a pretty girl like you do sad for?”

You looked up from your phone to find a man practically leaning over the restaurant table. You could smell the alcohol from miles away and the way he was moving wasn’t helping his case either. You were instantly put off by him. Correction: You were disgusted by him.

“What’s a ugly man like you so bold for?” you smiled sweetly as the venom dripped off your words. “I’m really not interested.” you looked back down at your phone. You were just about to get a new high score on your favorite phone game and this asshole was ruining your chances. Your character almost died twice since he began bothering you. It was really starting to get on your nerves. If you didn’t unlock that new skin, you might kill someone.

“Oh come on.” he slurred. “Can a guy just compliment such a pretty lady?”

“Not when he looks like fucking Voldemort.” you replied just as quickly as he ended his sentence. “You’re kind of bothering me right now.” you pressed pause on your game and looked up again. “I’ll ask again. What do you want, seriously?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a guy at one of the booths, staring over at you. It didn’t feel creepy, but it was enough to capture your attention. 

“I wanted to-”

“What do you want?” you cut him off again. “We’re wasting time here.” you threw your phone on the table. “Save me the headache and save your ego...” you crossed your arms. you faked a smile. “Goodbye.”

“You bit-”

“Is there a problem?” 

A new person walked up to you two. The same guy who you had noticed before stopped in front of your table. He had sandy brown hair, and very sharp looking eyes. You swore you’ve seen him somewhere. You weren’t too sure.

“Nothing buddy, just about to show this bitch who she’s talking to-”

You crossed your arms and shifted around in your seat. “I mean I don’t need to be shown anything.” you shrugged.

“Oh are you?” he laughed. “Well I hate to break it to you but I’ll have to intervene” the stranger laughed out loud. 

“What do you mean-”

The drunk was instantly floored as this stranger grabbed his by the neck and slammed his face against the table not even an inch away from your phone. The drunk landed on the floor with a thud, moaning in pain. You weren’t even sure if he was registering the pain he was in or the fact that he had gotten his ass handed to him in the first place. All that you knew was that he was being peeled off the floor and escorted (more like thrown out.).

“You’re welcome, lady.” the guy didn’t take another look at you before be took a step forward. 

“I didn’t need your help.” you snatched your phone off the desk. “I can take care of myself.” you rolled your eyes. “And I wasn’t gonna thank you, either.” you stood up. “I’m definitely not going to now.”

The man slowly turned around, revealing his face clearly. “Oh really?” 

He was attractive, no doubt about it. His tight black muscle tee with baggy jeans and boots...damn he was a looker. Yet you weren’t like most MC’s...it would take a bit more than that for him to have any impact on you.

“Really.” you repeated. You put a hand on your hip. “Now if you’ll excuse me...I’m off to find another table to sit at.”

The man who ‘saved’ you didn’t take his eyes off you all night. Even when your friends came and joined you. 

“Hey Y/N, is that Keigo Takami looking at you?”

“I think it is!” another friend piped.

“Who?” you stared at her as you lowered your drink. “Who is Keigo Takami?”

“Y’know...Hawks.” she whispered. “I heard they call him that when he served time...” 

“He’s a literally crazy person. He’s an absolute menace! He’s a former hero...”

“Can imagine why...he beat the shit out of this guy who tried to hit on me.”

“Him?! I haven’t heard of him ever doing that for anyone before.” your other friend widened her eyes. “Y/N, I’ve heard of his past relationships...they didn’t end well. They all ended up missing...or in therapy.”

“I can take care of myself.” you shrugged. “I’m sure whatever Hawks has for me, I can take.”

“Don’t say that so freely, Girl. I heard he has a lot of screws loose.” your friend put a hand on your shoulder. “Like a lot.”

“Well whatever Mr. Man has in store for me, I’ll be prepared. It can’t be that bad, right?” your confidence dispersed a little bit. You looked behind you back at Keigo who had been cracking open a can of beer. He looked a little to interested in his own world to see you staring. 

“Y/N...Y/N!” your friend snapped her fingers in your face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah!” You focused back on your friends, feeling your emotions sort of switch. 

From the corner of the room, Keigo’s eyes followed you. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you. Never in his life had he ever seen a girl like you before. He had never been so...fascinated either. Something inside him snapped, he had to get to know you.

He had to.

...

“Is there a reason  you’re following me?”

On a trip to the supermarket, you couldn’t help but voice your opinions. Keigo was hiding in behind a display of cans whilst you stared at the cheese. Hmmm Cheddar or American? Maybe Havarti! Hmm Pepperjack? Why were there too many types of cheeses?! Too many options!

“You have a very keen eye.” he revealed himself. “I like that.” he began walking along side down down the aisle. “Try this one, it’s the best on burgers.” he grabbed a package of Pepperjack cheese and tossed it in the cart.

“I’m just very aware.” you replied boredly. “It comes with the territory.” you opted to ignore him trying to shop for you. 

“Of being a hero?” 

His words made you freeze. You hadn’t been a hero in years, let along thought about it. It had been so long...

“I hung up my cape years ago.” you rebutted. Your tried to keep your voice steady, but he could tell his words affected you. It made you wonder how he even knew that.

“I can say the same.” he winked. “Only I traded the cape for...other things.”

“I can tell...Hawks.” you grumbled in reply. “That’s what they used to call you right?”

Keigo knew you were challenging him. Part of him was angry, others not so much. He was interested to say the least. No one dared call him that anymore. Hell, no one lived long enough to even finish such a sentence. What made you so different? You had guts...he liked that.

“Yeah...that part of my life is over now.” he began following you down the aisle. “What about you? Why’d you give up hero work?”

“That’s not something I want to discuss with a stranger in the middle of the store.” 

“I get it...how’s 7:00 sound?”

“Pardon me?” You and your cart skid to a stop. “What did you just say to me?”

“I’ll meet you at the bar we met around 7! Don’t be late, and tell the bartender Takami Keigo is gonna be waitin’ for ya.” he winked. “Don’t leave me waiting princess...”

“I don’t even know you!” you were taken aback. “You don’t even know my name...”

Keigo’s face twisted into a smirk. He took a step towards you. You flattened yourself against the aisle wall as he trapped you against the cereal. “So tell me...What’s your name?”

“Huh?!”

“For a hero...you’re pretty dense.” he chuckled, nearing his face closer. “I asked your name, Hun.” he winked. “Won’t you tell me?”

“Y/N.” you replied breathlessly. “My name is Y/N.” Why did you tell him that, you had no clue. Idiot!

“Okay then Y/N.” he neared his face towards yours. “7:00 tonight...okay?”

“Uh huh.” you nodded. 

“Wonderful, I’ll see you tonight, princess.”

... 

You sat at the bar stool, spinning around lazily. You called all of your friends, your parents, hell even your grandparents. You didn’t tell them the details, but you told them if you didn’t message them back by 9:00 AM the next morning, call you just in case.

“What can I get you?” the barkeep walked up, wearing a kind smile on his face. You suddenly remembered that Keigo had told you, and you didn’t trust it one bit. “Can I get a water please?” 

“Coming right up, young lady.” the older man kindly looked at you. “Anything for the former Number 1 hero!”

You giggled bashfully. “Please, that was years ago.” you shook your head. “I appreciate it though.” you smiled. Hero work, the bane of your existence. Your past buddies and partners had all begged you not to leave, but with the amount of scars and suffering you endured, you had no choice.

You wouldn’t put yourself through that again, not for anyone. 

“Here you are miss.” the glass was set in front of you. 

“Thanks.” you put your hand over the top of the glass. Now that it was in yoru hand, you could move accordingly. “I was also supposed to meet someone here?...Told me to tell you to expect me...Keigo Takami?”

The barkeep’s face fell, fear striking his features. “O-oh! You’re Mr. Takami’s company for the night! I’m supposed to escort you to his special booth.”

“Special booth?” you repeated.

“Y-yes, please follow me!” he urged. “Only VIPs are allowed back here, but he rented out the entire back area just for you!”

You felt your senses go off, fight or flight mode. Now or never. You reached in your purse. Knife, check. Mace, check....Gun...check.

The kind barkeep took you to a back area. It looked like the main dining area, only a lot more high end. Slow jazz music was playing in the background and the lights were low. He was right, there was no one here...except one person.

He dawned a brown leather jacket, black skinny jeans and those all to familiar boots. He tapped his fingers against the table as he stared down at his phone.

“Mr. Takami. She’s here.”

Keigo looked up with that shit-eating smirk. “Thank you Hideo, leave us.”

The barkeep stalked off leaving you alone. You suddenly felt out of place. You looked around, taking note of the city beaming outside the windows. 

“Beautiful isn’t it?” 

You looked back over at Keigo again, almost surprised. “Yeah, it is.” you nodded.

He motioned next to him. “You wanna sit down or are you gonna stand there staring at me? I don’t bite.” he winked.

Silently, you sat down, still keeping your distance from the man. You were about a good two feet away from him. You weren’t too keen on getting any closer.

“I’m surprised you came. I thought you’d find a way to get out of this.”

“I am too, but I figured I’d entertain this idea...just for tonight.” you shrugged. “Don’t try anything, got it?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Keigo cracked a genuine smile. You looked stunning and he wanted to tell you that. He wouldn’t admit it, but he knew about you when you were going by your hero alias. He recognized the way you walked, the way you spoke. You could have killed that freak who hit on you if you wanted to. However you didn’t. He was curious about that.

“Why did you ask me out?” you raised an eyebrow before he could get a word out.

“I’ll let you know in a minute.” he winked. “I’m more interested in you.”

“Like what?” you raised an eyebrow. “How interesting can I be?”

Keigo didn’t want to say he did extensive research on you and couldn’t find shit. It drove him crazy. It was making him go quite literally insane. He was more that interested. He was invested. When he didn’t answer, you sighed.

“You tell me first.” you crossed your arms. “I know your reputation proceeds you.” you raised a brow.

“Princess, that’s not how this works.” he tried to sound as if he was joking. “I ask the questions here.”

“Well it is today.” you shrugged. “Either we have an even exchange or you’re out of luck.” you shrugged. “You decide.”

Keigo stared blankly at you. You were a tough nut, that was for sure. Plus you sure as hell weren’t afraid of death. That must have meant you had no idea what he was capable of. Then again, it must have been your Hero Side taking a stance.

After what felt like a minute, he sighed in defeat. “...A friend of mine was killed by a hero.” he confessed. “You ever hear of someone called The Bronze Monk?”

“That name sounds familiar?” you raised an eyebrow. “He’s another hero, right? He can turn his fists into bronze.” You tried to recall.

“Mhm...He killed my friend.” Keigo clenched his fist. “I did 6 years because of him....”

“I don’t understand.” you raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with you?”

“This was while you were dominating the game I guess, so I don’t blame you for not knowing.” he shrugged and he slapped a hand on the table. “HIDEO! TWO BEERS.”

“So I’m confused. I heard The Bronze Monk died mysteriously...he fell from over 500 stories...”you paused. You took to time to noticed that Keigo has aired out his wings this time around. You didn’t even noticed he HAD wings. “It was all over the-...wait a second...You never said who your friend was.”

“She was a- she was a villain.” Keigo sighed. “She was like a sister to me and I was tryna get her to stop being so dumb...turn over a new leave and she was doing so well! Shit, but...one day she dumbly got into a fight with that asshole and I watched my friend die right there.” Keigo hitched his words slightly.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” you said sadly, regretting opening your big mouth. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No...it’s fine. I guess in order to move on I gotta talk about it right?” he sat up straight as the barkeep came back with two mugs and quickly stalked back off. “I was so blinded by my own anger. What type of hero would go out of their way to punish someone trying to make amends....” he seethed. “I flew him up to the tallest building in the city and dropped him...I only got off on good behavior...”

It finally all made sense, to you at least. You let what he said marinate and sit well...it felt surreal.

“So.” Keigo grabbed his glass and took a huge gulp. “I’ve said my peace. You’re turn.”

You stared at this guy for what felt like ages. Something told you that this guy couldn’t be trusted. All the alarms were going off at the same time...but for some reason-

“My parents wanted me to be a hero.” you said. “My quirk is hereditary, so it’s passed from person to person.” you shrugged. “I loved saving people, helping people...then-” you paused. “I saw how corrupt, and hateful, and disgusting these so-called heroes were...I lost someone important to me too.”

Keigo raised an eyebrow, suddenly interested. You took a swig of beer, trying to gather your thoughts. 

Keigo took note of the way you were fiddling with your left hand. Your thumb grazed over your ringer finger as if something was missing...something important.

“Who was the guy?” Keigo asked, snapping you out of your trance. He had a gut feeling he already knew, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.

“...H-he was um...we dated since high school.” you shrugged. “We were a team, him and I.” you smiled at the memory. “When he turned his back on the hero world, they turned their back on him too.”

“Meaning?”

“They sold him out.” you choked. “They left him for dead and told me he would be okay. I should have gone back for him but they held me back, they told me there were other people that needed my help.”

“What happened when you learned the truth?” Keigo asked. He only knew that a poor hero lost his life, he didn’t know that the only other survivor just so happened to be his future wife.

“I had to choose...my friends and my morals or being a hero. If anyone knows just how two faced and conniving these people are, it’s me.” you shuddered. “I’ve met traitors, and killers disguised as good guys. At one point I couldn’t take it anymore and I gave up! Forget being number 1, forget status, forget everything...Being a hero...lost me everything.”

“Hm. Thank you for sharing that with me, Princess.” he replied. “It must have been hard to do...it’s nice to know you trust me so much.”

“It was only fair, I guess.” you boredly drank. “It not that big a deal.” you stared down at your fingers. “It was years ago, I’ve moved on.”

Keigo took note of how your mood faltered. He couldn’t have that.

“Hey, look at me?”

“Hm?” you looked up from your glass.

“I’m sure where ever your fiancé is, whatever he’s up to. He doesn’t blame you.” he put a hand over yours. “He wouldn’t hate you for moving on either.”

“He wouldn’t?” you narrowed your eyes. “How do you know?”

Keigo couldn’t answer, he just wanted to say something, anything, to put a smile on your face. It was like a second nature in such a short time. He wanted to be your hero. “It’s just a hunch...you shouldn’t be afraid to move on...sometimes all you need is a push out the nest.” he winked as his wings twitched behind his back.

“Bird humor? Really?” you scoffed.

“It’s what I do, princess.”

...

After the heavy and depressing, you don’t think you laughed that hard in years. 

“Wait hold on.” you stopped laughing. “Pause for a minute! You, with those big ass wings got your ass handed to you by some chump named ‘The weather man?’” you were crying from laughing so hard.

“He could control the wind!” he defended, also laughing. “You shoulda seen it!”

“Well maybe you need to exercise your quirk more.” you crossed your arms.

“As if you’re the master of your own.” he playfully rolled his eyes.

“As a matter of fact, I am!” you raised an eyebrow. “Shall I demonstrate?” you scooted out the booth and stood up. “Don’t blink or you might miss it.”

Keigo leaned back in his seat, now very interested in what you were about to display for him. He watched your eyes narrow in focus as you held your hands out in front of your face. Slowly, a very tiny tornado formed in your hands, small and handheld. This mini tornado was soon replaced by a tree sprouting out of the top. You waved your hand around and miraculously summoned rain out of your palm. 

“Okay Y/N, focus.” you mumbled. Suddenly, out of everything, a flame erupted from the center of your hand. 

He watched in awe, he had never heard of anyone with a quirk like this one before. With another flick of the hand, everything you had summoned disappeared. “Ta-da!”

“That was amazing.” he commented as your sat down. “What was that??”

“I come from a long line of ‘benders’. Funny name, I know.” you giggled. “I can bend another element...spirit. I can only do it when I’m really happy though.”

“Why didn’t you try that one?”

“...I said I can only do it when I’m happy.” you smiled sadly. It didn’t take long for Keigo to catch on. 

“Oh.” he raised a brow. “Sorry, I-”

“It’s alright.” you shook your head. “Ever since...he died...I’ve never been able to do it.” you shrugged. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to.”

“I’d love to witness that.” Keigo laced his fingers within yours, making your face heat up. “I bet it’s beautiful.”

“...S-shush.” you scoffed, looking away bashfully.

Suddenly the song changed, a slow jazz song began playing. A slow beat, with soft drums and what you could describe as a romantic saxophone.

“Dance with me.” he held out his hand. 

You smiled, rolling your eyes playfully as you took his hand and stood up. He guided you to the middle of the floor. he pulled you flush against his chest. The slow music seemed to drown out the hustle of the city noise outside. He hummed thoughtfully, singing to the tune for you. 

“You never told me.” you mused as you two moved in sync.

“Told you what, princess?”

“Why did you ask me out?”

“Truth be told, something drew me to you.”

“Like what?” you innocently stared. “What about me could possibly interest you?”

“Out of everything you’ve told me, everything really.” he bit his lip. “You’re amazing, everything about you.”

“You aren’t so bad yourself, Keigo.” you shyly replied. You turned around and rested your back against his chest. He rested his head in the divot of your shoulder. He wrapped his arms around your waist, guiding you along to the music. 

He was right, he wouldn’t leave you, not now. Not ever. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it, princess.”

“If I admitted I was wrong about you, would you hold it against me?”

Keigo nearly froze. A shock was sent up his spine as the words left your lips. “You shouldn’t say things like that, princess.”

“How come?” you turned around to face him. 

“I want to-” he bit his lip. A gentle hand rested on the base of your neck, his thumb caressing your throat. He laid a kiss on your lips, passion dripping off of every peck. His tongue slipped through the small gap as he moaned against your mouth. You whimpered and shivered feeling his tongue dominate your mouth. He responded with sounds of his own. Shaky breathes and low groans.

You responded to his touch, allowing his hands to travel under your shirt. “Keigo.” you whimpered. Your feverishly ran your hands through his hair, practically gluing your bodies together. You felt his fingertips creep under shirt, dancing across your skin. “W-we can’t do this here.”

“You’re totally right.” he didn’t cease, instead opting to kiss down your neck. “So...my place or yours.”

You felt yourself lose all sense of direction. “Y-yours.”

“You’ve just opened up Pandora’s Box, princess.”

...

You fell back on his bed, crawling backwards. He rid himself of that jacket and his shirt, leaving him to flex his muscles, his wings, and everything. You stared up, trembling in anticipation. 

Your friends would probably kill you, but you didn’t particularly care. You hugged yourself, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. 

Keigo loved it. It meant you still had innocence flowing in your veins, not for long. He would toy with your brain. He would bend you to his will and drive you insane with lust. You would be the perfect sidekick for him. He stalked over to you, biting his lip. 

“Look at you.” he mused. “You’re so cute.” he giggled. He rested a knee at the edge of the bed, beginning to crawl towards you. 

You noticed his wings were spread wide, covering over you two like a shield.

“C-can I?”

“Go ahead Princess.” he smiled knowingly. He had the look as if he knew something you didn’t. You reached a trembling hand to gently brush his beautiful feathers. A low groan erupted from his throat.

“Oh my gosh! Am I hurting you?” you almost withdrew your hand back.

“Don’t stop...please.” he growled lowly. 

It was only then you realized, this was turning him on. You ran your hands through his feathers. They were soft, shiny even. 

“Enough!” he grabbed your hand and pinned it above your head. “Look at you, princess. All ready for me.” he laughed. “I wonder how wet I can make that pussy for me.” he used his other hand to fumble with the button of your jeans.

You trembled under his touch, feeling your pants slide down your legs. You were completely drowned in your own lust. A fire was prominent in your chest. You were shaking under his fingertips. 

“Enjoy this, princess.” he winked before crawling down. He lifted your shirt up and planted little kisses along your stomach. He grabbed the hem of your panties with his teeth and pulled them down. 

You were squirming in anticipation, waiting. 

“You smell so...so-” he didn’t finish his sentence because he had drove his tongue up your slit. A gasp escaped your lungs. Absentmindedly, you had grabbed a fist full of his hair. 

“Fuuuh~” you couldn’t speak. You weren’t even sure he’d be able to hear your over the sound of your wetness. You could feel your water dribble down your thighs. 

“Wrapped your legs around my head.” he growled, digging his nails into your thighs. “Grind that pussy against my tongue, princess.” 

You thrashed against his mouth, feeling warmth gather in the pit of your stomach. “Keigo!”

He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, making you cry out even louder. 

Keigo felt himself lose touch with everything, he was only focused on you in the moment. Fuck, was he hard too. Hearing your moans. Shit, he couldn’t wait to bury himself into you. 

“Baby, do you hear that?” he looked up at you as he promptly replaced his tongue with his fingers. “Listen.” he pumped his fingers into you. “You sound so fucking cute” he groaned, mimicking your soft whimpers. “It feels good, yeah?”

You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded. 

Suddenly, he yanked his fingers out of you. His head fell forward to rest on your pubic bone. He sounded as if he came just now even if it was you getting all the pleasure. 

Like a predator stalking after it’s prey he meet your eyes. He wore a sadistic grin with his bottom lip taken between his teeth. He sat up, fumbling with his belt buckle. 

“You ready for me, princess?”

“Yes, p-please?” you whimpered. 

Fuck, you couldn’t do that to him. He had a mind to tear you apart where you lay. Your jaw went slack as his cock was released from its restraints. Would that even- Inside you?! 

You felt it brush against you, slightly. You met his eyes and froze there. He was staring down at you. He looked absolutely feral. You could barely look away as he slid himself inside your throbbing hole. He painfully slowly rolled his hips into you. He twitched inside as he bucked his hips into you. 

“Look at how good we fit together. That’s right.” he managed through clenched teeth. “My cock was meant to be here. I was meant to fuck you.” he snarled. 

You tightened around his length as he thrust harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” His jaw dropped again. “Say my name, please?”

“K-keigo.” you obeyed. You felt a warmth in your chest as well as your core. It was like a fire was being ignited in the pit of your soul. “I’m gonna-”

“Fuck! Don’t finish that sentence.” he snarled. “You don’t wanna know what I’m gonna do as a result.”

In a swift motion, you were suddenly staring down at Keigo. He had a death grip on your legs as he was now thrusting upwards. You had your hands on his chest in an attempt to support yourself.

“I think I like you more when you’re riding me.” he bit his lip. “You look so fucking sexy. Those moans, that body, your pretty fucking pussy-”

“Keigo, please! I can’t it anymore.”

“Oh yeah, you gonna cum? You wanna cum for me, baby?” he spoke in a babyish voice. “You wanna cum all over Papa Bird’s cock? Do it, do it for me...ARGH FUCK!”

You felt his warmth inside you at the exact same time you had came. He was shaking under you, rolling his hips upwards to relieve the friction he had caused. 

Keigo stared in amazement at a bright light erupted from your chest, a small bird in the shape of smoke began flying around the room.

“That would be spirit.” you laughed tiredly, watching the quirk you had thought died reactivate out of nowhere. 

“I hope you know...you can never leave me now.” Keigo sat up to lay kisses on your neck. “You’re mine now.”

(AND DONE! This was Hawks debut on the blog so lets all give hem a huge hello!)

[mypoisonedvine]

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband.  you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t.  which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.  

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more.  He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue.  Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him?  A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable.  I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up.  But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman.  It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend.  Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all.  He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.  

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment.  He loved it, but he hated it, too.  

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

//

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.  

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight.  At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again.  As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation.  “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone.  But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times.  “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months.  And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that.  He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not.  This was something else entirely.  "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start.  In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what.  “And he… he knows that you… want that?  I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?”  He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way.  "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating.  It doesn't even work.  He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something.  And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal.  Do you know how often people talk about sex?  It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes.  Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night?  Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’?  Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.  

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again.  “It's been so long since somebody touched me.  I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional.  "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted.  “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me.  I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.  

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying.  “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow.  His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.  

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners.  It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head.  He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little.  And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.  

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants.  He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud.  He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation.  You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you.  Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.  

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough.  After all, you had asked him to give you everything.  So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.  You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking.  He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration.  Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle.  He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.”  Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it.  It was just too good to be true.  So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again.  Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that.  Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him?  He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it.  "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.  

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him.  It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place.  That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.”  And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on.  “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh?  You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly.  “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin.  "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly.  The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially.  Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true.  He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly.  “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally.  He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way.  so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore.  When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip.  You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh.  The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster.  He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover.  For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be.  He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it.  He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment.  Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily.  Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then.  "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come.  It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck.  His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it.  But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently.  You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.  

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.  

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.  

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest.  He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away.  When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

[wondersofdreaming]

My curls, your curls

Characters: Captain Syverson x female reader (3rd person, with thick curly hair)

Word count: 1.256

Warnings: There are a few sexy innuendoes mentioned, else it's fluff and cute and sugary sweet.

Author’s note: This is a boring piece of crap, because I haven't written anything good since January, and even then it was still a struggle to write. So I decided it was time to get out of the deep dark writer's block hole I've been buried in. Even though it's badly written and lacking some feeling and emotion, I hope it still conveys a little about how the captain feels about his wife.

Just a reminder to everyone that this is MY curly hair routine. It might not work for your hair type or your curls, but it works for me. My hair type is between 2c and 3a, I think, not sure though because every hair type website says different things. And I use the LCO method because it works for me, and add a curling gel after the cream because I want to give my hair some extra protection under the summer sun.

A list of the products used in this story is under the cut.

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MY MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

It was early morning. The sun was slowly creeping its warm rays over Syverson’s naked back. He yawned and turned around, wanting to cuddle with his gorgeous wife, but she was not where he had left her the night before. Exhausted and satisfied, sleeping in his arms. Instead, his hand landed on something furry, his dog Aika, who moved to lick his face.

“Thanks, girl, I’m awake now,” he grunted but smiled at the loving German Shepherd. He listened to where his gorgeous wife could be and heard the shower going.

The captain walked to the slightly open bathroom door and pushed it open. Dan + Shay’s new single ‘Glad you exist’ was blasting through the waterproof speaker. His wife was currently lathering up her hair with her favourite shampoo for curly-haired women. She used something he had learned was called a ‘shampoo brush’, she massaged her entire scalp with it and washed the soap off her hair, while singing along to the music.

Sy leaned against the doorframe, enjoying the view of his naked wife, while she washed her long curly hair. Next was the detangling process. She used a lot of conditioner and the weird looking big round brush with the many different sizes of bristles.

She hummed to the next song, not noticing the mountain-sized man watching her. Finishing up her shower, she stepped out and nearly screamed as she saw her husband smirking from the door.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” she told him breathlessly, as her hand went to her heart that was drumming away beneath her palm.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I just couldn’t help myself,” he smiled. The captain stomped into the bathroom to give his wife a long sloppy kiss.

“I need to finish my routine,” she mumbled against his soft lips. He groaned, wanting more, but respected that her hair needed her attention more than he did. Instead, he sat on top of the toilet seat and watched as she flipped her head upside down.

She started with the leave-in-conditioner, slowly raking the creamy substance into her hair, then using a wet brush to comb it through, so every strand of hair would get some of the conditioner. Next in her routine, she squeezed a tiny dollop of hair cream onto her hand and applied it from the middle part of her hair to the ends.

After parting her hair by her temples, she used another brush, a styling brush she called it, to comb the soaking wet hair. Her motions were so soothing to watch, as she brushed through each section of her luscious hair. Next, she applied a frizz control gel. Sy watched as she carefully gathered the clumps of hair in her palms and lifted it towards her scalp before she started scrunching it. He could hear the wetness being squeezed, making the same noise as when she was overly wet and he was ramming uncontrollably into her.

“Why are you doing that?” he asked curiously, wondering how that would help her already beautiful looking hair, and he was trying to control his lustful thoughts.

“It helps define the hair and it creates volume,” she said a little out of breath. “Could you plug in my hairdryer with the diffuser, please?”

“Anything for you, my love,” he smacked her ass on his way to the cabinet, where he knew she stored her hairdryer.

He connected it and sat it down next to the sink. While he did that, she had put her hair in one of his old t-shirts. Sy remembered that he was about to donate a bunch of his old t-shirts when his wife had stopped him and said she could use them for drying her hair. He hadn’t understood why but had gladly given her the shirts. She slept in some of them and the rest were neatly stacked in a cabinet in the bathroom.

It made his heart skip a beat whenever he saw her in one of his shirts, old or new, she looked amazing no matter what.

The captain watched as she went through her skincare routine while waiting for her hair to dry a tiny bit. She was so meticulous about taking care of her skin, hair, Aika, and him too. She forced him to use sunscreen every single day, even on rainy days. Not just that, she had also implemented that he started taking care of his beard, so she had bought him a kit with a beard come, a tiny pair of scissors, beard shampoo and conditioner, and beard oil. His lovely wife had chosen the scent from her knowledge of what he liked, but also something she thought smelled amazing. It was musky with some apple undertones and hints of vanilla.

He was so far in his thoughts he didn’t notice it had been 10 minutes, not until his cheeky wife threw the wet t-shirt in his face.

“Hey!”

“Thought you needed a wake-up call,” she giggled. The soft sound of her happy voice just made his heart soar, and he forgot all about her little prank.

She diffused her hair until it was almost dry, and then turned around to look at her husband, who was sitting, looking scared as she stood with the diffuser like it was a rifle.

“Your turn, captain,” she teased.

“My turn for what?” he looked profoundly confused at his beloved woman, who stood before him in nothing but a bathrobe, her long curly hair cascading down her back.

“It’s time that we start on your curly hair routine too, dear husband.”

Sy looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. He had quit the army a year earlier and had let his hair grow out, not wanting to waste time on cutting it every two weeks. He looked carefully at the dark brown curls sticking out in all directions.

His wife was standing in front of him, ready to guide him through it. He smiled at her and let her do her thing. She forced him into the shower, used her shampoo and conditioner. Then while he was sitting down. She used a curl enhancing cream to make his curl pop even more, and a gel so his curls would hold their, well, curl. He then managed to sit through 10 minutes of her hovering over his head with the diffuser.

The captain was rewarded with a kiss when she finished. She picked up a three toothed pick, called a ‘spriggle’ and lifted his curls for volume.

The last part of her hair care routine was to put in some argan oil to lock in the moisture. She handed Sy the spriggle.

“Will you lift my curls for me?”

He would do anything for his wife. Sit through a hair care routine, walk through fire, eat 40 hotdogs to win a teddy bear she had her eyes on, adopt all the dogs, cats, horses, goats, any animal at the shelter because she felt bad for them not having a loving home.

The woman who was not only his very best friend, having known her since kindergarten, but she was truly also the love of his life. The only human he needed to be happy. And she waited for him while he was in Iraq. She deserved everything she wished for and more.

This captain was utterly devoted to the woman who just threw her robe in his face, catching him off guard for the second time that morning, a soft smirk spread on her pink lips.

Products used:

Shea Moisture Coconut & Hibiscus Curl & Shine Shampoo and Conditioner

HEETA Shampoo Brush (Purple)

Michel Mercier hair detangler for thick hair

As I Am leave-in conditioner

Epic Professional Quick Dry Hair Brush

Briogeo Curl Charisma Rice amino Avocado Leave-In Defining Créme

Denman Classic Styling Brush 7 Rows - D3

Briogeo Curl Charisma Frizz Control Gel

Segbeauty Hair Diffuser attachment

The Spriggle

The Beard Struggle (Viking Storm scent)

Aveda be curly curl enhancer

Aveda confixor liquid gel

The Aveda products and the male curly hair routine is inspired by this video from Manes By Mell

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

sometimes I think of my cousins and how they've travelled overseas and done all these exciting and adventurous things and I feel like I've been wasting my life staying home and not going anywhere

but I eventually realised that I've already done a lot of exciting and interesting things without spending money or travelling abroad, even if they're just little things, they're still experiences, and I have so many of them

like the time I was playing my ukulele on an empty bus, and then a group of teenagers got on, recognised the song I was playing, and got all excited and started singing along to it

last year I spent a month in a mental health unit, I met a lot of interesting and wonderful people, including a guy who gave me a completely edited version of Judge Dredd that cut out a lot of the comic relief moments that he felt ruined the movie, to this day that is still the only version of that movie I've ever watched (he did a very good job)

I taught myself to cheep like a chick after volunteering to house our baby chickens in my bedroom overnight to make sure they stayed safe and warm, they would cheep at me and I'd cheep back, eventually my family couldn't tell which of us were cheeping

before I started working in aged care, I volunteered in a dementia unit just talking to and doing activities with the residents, I played dominos with a man who survived Auschwitz, he couldn't remember a lot of his life, but he would always show me the numbers on his arm and tell me exactly how many years he spent fighting in the war, how many years he spent in Auschwitz, and how after he was released, as soon as he was fit to fight again he rejoined the army

I travelled for most of a day to attend the wedding of friends I had met in person only once at a convention, I had very little money at the time and stayed in the cheapest pub hotel imaginable, it was disgusting, I slept on the very edge of the bed with my jacket over the pillow, it was worth it to see them again

when travelling home from a convention me and my friends ended up on the same train home as some other convention goers and we turned the section we were sitting in into a mess of memes and pop-culture references, we sand songs, made a ton of noise and had a lot of fun, I'm still friends with some of them and we always try to meet up at cons now

my mum and aunt appeared on tv advocating for lifts at our local train station that has absolutely no accessibility for the disabled, the video they took of a legless man dragging himself backwards up the stairs as his friend carried his wheelchair went viral, I did letterbox drops and helped out at BBQ fundraisers for the cause, the government has finally relented and are beginning the plans to have them installed

I joined an accapella group once and discovered I was a baritone, I learned how to mount a unicycle but I can't ride one, I learned sign language when I was having non-verbal episodes, and I forgot it all when they stopped and I no longer needed it, I marched in a float at mardi gras, literally everyone I know contacts me when they need a bird identified, I took burlesque classes, I made posters for a local band promotion

and now I have a volunteer job in a thrift store that funds a suicide callback service that I have actually used, I have failed at every job in my life so far but in this one I singlehandedly manage the entire dvd and video tape section, every single disc on our shelves was checked and cleaned by me and me alone, and the ones that were on the shelves from before I started working there were removed and rechecked, I reshelved everything and sorted it all by genre, by my manager's orders nobody else is even allowed to touch the dvd section, and when anyone does the other staff will rat them out to me because they know how much pride I take in my work and how important it is to me, and that I do a fucking good job, the first time ever I've had a job I'm good at and proud of

you don't have to have money and go to exotic places to have an interesting and fulfilled life, I wouldn't trade any of this for an expensive trip abroad

what interesting life experiences have you had? what weird skills have you learned? what kind of strange people have you talked to? give me your stories

[pettygangfriend]

Back up that talk, baby

Requested by anonymous: “Would love for you to write something where Rio’s girl teases him with sexy texts and pictures while he’s at work and he tries his best to concentrate and continue but we all know 😏”

A/n: I changed up the part where he tries his best to concentrate, as I wanted this to be from the readers pov. I’m thinking about making a part two for this including pure smut, let me know though. As always is feedback appreciated! ❤️

Warnings: Mentioning of the term ‘daddy’ (literally once), and some steamy talking.

It wasn’t your fault, really. Earlier today you found yourself in this big argument with Rio, as you decided to confront him on breaking his promise. He was supposed to be spending the entire day with you, and you couldn’t have been more excited, but of course something had to come up.

The argument ended with him telling you to stop nagging him about it, and that he would make it up to you— well, that’s where he thought the problem ended. You on the other hand, you had already decided on taking a more petty road.

Instead of accepting the fact that he wouldn’t spend today with you, you took yourself on a little shopping spree, at a lovely little place known as your favorite lingerie store. Picking out three different sets, you make quick work of trying them on, before rushing yourself home to prepare for the next little step of your plan.

Once you’re back at home again, you waste no time discarding all of your clothes and putting on some music. Walking through your apartment completely naked, while he’s out there doing god knows what, gives you a sense of empowerment, something you needed for what happens next.

You grab the bag filled with your brand new lingerie and empty it right on the couch. The bright red set draws the most attention, so it’s only fair you start out with that one. As you’re admiring yourself in the large mirror, a big smirk is plastered on your lips. You pick up your phone from the tabe, turning on the camera. Choosing the best pose that shows off your entire body, you take the picture. The little piece of thin lace left almost nothing to the imagination, as your nipples were hardening against the material.

📱“What do you think, daddy?”

Not thinking twice about it, you hit that ‘send’ button, and throw your phone onto the couch. This could backfire in multiple different ways, and you couldn’t wait for each and every single one of them.

After pouring yourself a glass of wine, you sat down again, checking your phone. A soft scoff leaves your mouth as you realize that he has seen your little message, but didn’t respond.

Quickly changing into your next set, you lay down on your stomach, giving him a perfect view of your ass in the next picture you send him.

📱“What about this one? It’s your favorite color”

Taking a sip of your drink, you watch as Rio opens the message but still ignores you. You won’t lie, you’re starting to get a little annoyed at his self control, but then again, everyone has their breaking point, right?

Slipping on your last set, you decide to take another approach this time. Instead of taking a picture, you go for a little video. You start out by showing him your shiny legs, before slowly moving your way up. Finally reaching your breasts, you cup one side a little roughly, letting out a soft gasp. Satisfied with the content on your screen, you forward it to him.

📱“Imagine if you were here, right now. All the things you could be doing to me, I’m dripping just thinking about it”

📱“I might have to take care of it myself, but don’t worry, I’ll imagine it’s your fingers dipping in and out of me”

You’re about to type another message, until you see the three dots popping up. I suppose the third time really is a charm. A warm feeling spreads through your body, imagining him watching your half naked self while having to keep up his cold persona.

A few minutes pass and he’s never sent you his reply. He simply stopped typing, and you’re back to square one again. Shaking your head, you give up on your plan to make him regret leaving you alone today. He clearly wasn’t in the mood for any of this, so why would you be?

Right after you’ve thrown on your robe, you hear a firm knock on your door. Making your way over to the door, you open it, revealing Rio leaning against the wall. You just stand there in shock, your mouth slightly agape, while he gives you a quick nod.

“You’re gonna keep standing there like you’ve seen a ghost, or you gonna let me in and back up all that talk?”

If you’d like to be removed from/added to my Rio taglist, let me know! ✨

@appropriate-writers-name

@chrmdnbeautiful

@isisafrofairy

@stitchesbystults

@glimmerglittergirl

@bellabean5591

@sesamepancakes

@peaches007

@riohoe

@amorestevens

[headheartbellarke]

Paper Rings | OWEN JOYNER

Requested by anon: “Owen request? A series of events that leads Owen to finally working up the courage to propose to his girlfriend?” PAIRING(s): Owen Joyner x fem!reader WARNING(s): some language, mentions of abuse, panic attack, anxiety, and fluff haha WORDS: 3.7k SUMMARY: Five times Owen almost asks his girlfriend to marry him, and one time he actually does.

0.

    Charlie looks around, feeling out of place amongst the big mirrors, bright lights, and the sparkling diamonds. When his best friend, Owen, told him that he wanted a ‘guys night’ (he’s still unsure as to why he wants to have one: they live together, it’s guys’ night every night – he was expecting bars, or clubs, or fancy restaurants; things they don’t get to do every night, because of work. But he definitely wasn’t expecting to be dragged into a jewellery store.

  “O, buddy, what are we doing here?”

  Owen shushes him, walking ahead to a counter. A woman with kind eyes greets him. “Mr. Joyner!”

  He smiles, familiarity pooling in his eyes.

  Charlie frowns. He didn’t expect Owen to be into jewellery – sure, he buys stuff for his sister and mother, but he always takes them with him.

  He thinks of Y/N, Owen’s girlfriend of about five years – there’s a possibility that he may be buying something for her, but it’s highly unlikely. Y/N has been pretty vocal about the fact that she hates diamonds, and who’s to blame her, really? Her father used to buy her mother a diamond necklace after every time he hit her or when he came home smelling of another woman’s perfume.

  Charlie exclaims, “Owen! I’m gonna die if you don’t tell me what’s going on!”

   “I know, I know.” He shushes him, again, and Charlie feels like a child, even though he’s older than the blonde boy. Owen turns to the woman in front of him, Miranda, as her name tag reads, and says, “I hope it’s ready.”

  She nods, excitedly. “Yes! I have it right here with me.”

  She disappears beneath the counter, and Charlie expects her to return with a big box, like a magician’s apprentice. But, instead, she emerges with a small, tiny box and he wonders –

  As realization dawns upon him, he feels a rush of euphoria. “Oh my god, are you –”

  Owen nods, his face aglow with anticipation, hope and adoration. “I – I walked into this store a couple of weeks ago, after I decided that I wanted to marry her, I mean, I’ve known it for a while, you know? I can’t see myself being with anyone but her for the rest of my life, and I want a family with her. She’s my soulmate, dude. And I – I think it’s the right time, too. She’s got that amazing job, and my career’s going great, so, yeah. I wanna marry her.”

  Charlie sniffs, feeling tears at the back of his eyes. “Bro.”

  His friend grins. “Bro.”

  Charlie pulls him into a hug, but Owen pushes him away, and they swat each other’s hands for a second before Owen whisper shouts, “Do you wanna see the ring or not?!”

  Charlie’s eyes widen and he nods. They turn to the woman in front of them, and she points to the box placed on the counter before them. “If you’re ready.”

  Owen nods, and Charlie feels amazed at the determination clouding his irises. He opens the box, and the Canadian boy gasps.

  Inside sits a simple platinum ring. Except at the middle, there’s a diamond shaped like a star. It’s so beautifully built, every edge looking like they’re fit to cut steel. And the entire ring – it’s so simple, yet beautiful, and Charlie knows why he picked it.  

  It’s a mirror of the way Owen sees Y/N – something gorgeous, something priceless, something elegant, yet something so simple to him, and something that will always makes sense, no matter what.

1.

    Owen inhales, staring at his reflection in the full body length mirror in front of him. He’s going to do it today – he is going to ask his best friend, his soulmate and the love of his life to marry him. He has planned it all – even Charlie went out with the rest of the cast tonight to give the twenty-three-year-olds some privacy. (Charlie, Y/N, and Owen live together in Vancouver, at least while shooting the fourth season of Julie and The Phantoms, so, as one can guess, it’s really difficult to get a moment alone – but since the both of them love Charlie so fucking much, they don’t really mind.)

  He straightens his tie and hears soft footsteps in the hallway outside his room. Y/N’s head pokes in, her face lit up like Christmas lights.

   “Don’t you look sharp!” She says, while walking up to him and wrapping her arms around his torso. Owen smiles, catching her eyes in the reflection. “Are the bad puns ever going to stop?”

  She gasps, dramatically, and exclaims, “You don’t gotta be so mean about it!”

  He shakes his head, and feels love swell in his chest for the woman behind him. “I love you so much, you know that, right?”

  A mischievous glint appears in her eyes. “I could use a reminder.”

  Owen grins, turning backwards and cups her face in his hands, about to kiss her, when a voice stops him.

  “I think I just broke the coffee machine!”

  Y/N’s eyes widen, and she yells, “You did what?!”

  Owen’s brows furrow. “Is that –”

  She casts him an apologetic glance. “Zoe, yeah. I forgot to tell you, but Cece had to go out last minute, so I offered to watch her for the evening!”

  Usually, Owen loves kids, especially Y/N’s cousins like Zoe, but right now, he feels like jumping off a cliff. She seems to sense that as she runs her hands down his arms, and says, “I’m sorry! I know you said that tonight was gonna be just us, but you love Zoe, don’t you? And it’s gonna be fun, I promise!”

  It’s not. Owen had booked a table at Y/N’s favorite restaurant in Vancouver, and he would have proposed midway through the dinner, when the musicians there would start to play ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift, and when they got to the bridge, he would have dropped to a knee.

  Ignoring the weight in his chest, he plasters a smile on his face. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m sorry, I just – it’s been a while since we’ve been alone, you know? With work and all. But I’m sure it’s gonna be great with Zoe, too!”

  She nods. “Thank you. We can go out alone next week when Charlie has that photoshoot with Madi!”

  He nods. “Absolutely.”

  The little black box stays hidden in the pocket of the beige coat in his closet that he never wears.

2.

    As Y/N smiles at him, Owen thinks that this is it. This is the moment he’s gonna ask her to marry him.

  As the light from the fire illuminates her face, he thinks about how perfect this weekend has been. After long days, and even longer nights of filming, they finally got a weekend off, and Charlie immediately booked a cabin in North Vancouver.

  And there’s no one better at planning trips than Charlie.

  Along with Owen, Y/N, and Charlie; Madison, Jadah, Jeremy and his wife, Carolynn, Savannah, Sacha, and Tori are here, too, everyone basking in the peace. Throughout the weekend, they’ve done anything and everything they can do in snow – from skiing, to making snow angels, and finally, as the shades of evening rolled on the last day of their trip, they are tired.

  After dinner, everyone wordlessly returned to their rooms, and Owen knows that they’re all fast asleep, right now – except Y/N, who is still as bubbly as champagne.

  When they returned to their room, Y/N quickly lit the fire – because no matter if it’s snowing or if it’s fifty degrees outside – she is always freezing.

  It’s the opposite in Owen’s case, though – he’s always warm, and that’s why Y/N wasted no time to settle in his lap.

  Owen quickly pats his pocket to check if the ring’s still there. It is, and it’s been there for the whole weekend. He’s been searching for opportunities, but they were always either with someone, or it wasn’t a good time.

  “O?” She asks, her voice soft.

  “Hmm?” He replies, threading his fingers through her hair.

  Her eyes brighten up, putting the fire in front of them to shame. “I’ve just had an idea.”

  “Later. First, I have something to ask you.” He says, his hand reaching into his pocket again.

  She smiles. “I know what you’re gonna ask.”

  Owen’s surprised. “You do?”

  She nods excitedly. “Yeah. Charlie told me!”

  He must have had a horrified look on his face because her eyes widen quickly. “Oh, he didn’t want to, believe me! But, now that I know, tell me, when are you gonna do it?”

  Owen stammers, suddenly feeling breathless in this room. The anxiety starts to pool in his stomach, along with an anger, directed towards Charlie. “I – I – I can’t believe he told you this…”

  She shrugs. “You know that he can’t hide anything from me. He’s like the brother I never asked for. Anyway, so he was showing me some of the designs, and I love you, but I don’t think you can handle a tooth piercing.”

  Owen’s brows furrow. “What?”

  “Like, totally no offence, but you passed out when the dentist came to do a routine check up on your teeth. I don’t wanna imagine what would happen if you got them pierced.”

  “What are talking about?!”

  “Charlie and your matching piercings, dummy! What else would I be talking about?” She looks at him as if he’s grown a third head.

  Owen’s lips part. “We are not getting matching piercings – I wasn’t gonna ask you that!”

  “Oh!” Her eyes widen. “What were you gonna ask, then?”

  He gulps, thinking to himself – this is it. This is it. This is it.

  “Do you wanna go home for New Year’s?”

  He mentally curses when that question comes out of his mouth, and even with Y/N’s bright smile, he starts to feel queasy inside, knowing that he still isn’t confident enough to actually ask her.

3.

    Owen wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans and stands up. “Y/N, I have to tell you something.”

  She nods, her eyes sweeping across the mostly empty LA beach. He brought her here today to finally ask her to marry him – his past attempts have been nothing short of disastrous.

  As he opens his mouth, he feels a pang in his heart, and his mind starts to race. All kinds of thoughts race through his mind, like – what if she says no? what if she hates him for ruining what they have? What if Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift becomes his most relatable song? What if she –

  Y/N stands up, and her hand finds that of Owen’s, a reassurance, and he knows that she can sense his anxiety. She doesn’t ask him to talk about it – she knows that he will, eventually, when he’s ready. For now, she shows him that she’s here for him, and somehow that is enough.

  As she brushes his hair, his mind starts to calm down, his erratic breathing slowing down and involuntarily matching the pace of her breathing. She whispers, softly, “You’re okay. You’re safe. Everything is okay. You’re okay. I love you. I love you –”

  She keeps repeating that, until it’s like a mantra in Owen’s head, turning the racing thoughts to mere background noise.

  He opens his eyes, and looks into hers, and finally feels calm. He exhales. “That… uh....”

  She nods, comfort flooding through her eyes. “I know, baby. But it’s okay. You’re safe now.”

  He shakes his head, taking his hand in hers. “I – I – I think that maybe you and I should, uh, get – um, matching tattoos. Yeah. That’s what I wanted to ask you.” He lies.

  She nods enthusiastically. “Yes! Of course. You don’t even have to ask – we’ve always talked about it, and I think that now is the perfect time! Do you wanna –”

  As Y/N talks about designs, he thinks that he’s a fucking coward.

4.

    As Owen laughs, he feels confident, for once. He knows that tonight he’ll be able to ask her to marry him, especially in front of all his family – he loves his family, and so does Y/N and vice versa. He remembers the first time he brought her home three months after they’d started dating. He remembers feeling absolutely euphoric about the fact that she fit right in with his family. That was also the day that she had told him, for the first time, that she loves him.

  He looks around the table, and watches Y/N talk animatedly to his mother. His parents think of her as their own daughter, especially after finding out about her rocky relationship with her father. Y/N’s mother sits next to Owen, and he loves how carefree she looks – her ex-husband, really, was an asshole.

  He takes the little box out of his pocket, and his cousin, Elias, gasps. “Is that an engagement ring?” He whispers, his face scrunching as if the sentence left a bad taste in his mouth.

  Owen nods. “Yes. Elias, I would appreciate it if you kept it down.”

  His cousin raises his hands. “Always, homie.”

  He rolls his eyes. “Right.”

  Elias looks around. “Hey, do you think that it’s a good idea to propose now?”

  “What do you mean?” Owen’s brows furrow.

  “I mean people do it in private for a reason. What if she says no and then you get embarrassed in front of your entire family and hers? It’s sympathetic looks for the rest of your life, bro. And your parents wouldn’t be able to talk to her, nor to her mom, ‘cause it’d be, ya know, friggin’ embarrassing. Everyone’s probably gonna hate you.”

  Owen’s eyes widen, and he toys with the truth in his cousin’s words. Elias shrugs, and takes a sip of his water. “But it’s up to you, dude.”

  Slowly, Owen slides the ring back into his pocket.

5.

    Owen looks around, checking if any distractions could be in this room. None. How could it, though? He’s standing in an empty classroom, in the middle of winter break. Nobody in their right minds would be here.

  Well, that would mean that Owen’s not in his right mind. To be really, really, really honest – he is kind of losing it. He has been trying to propose to Y/N for the past month, but every time – every god damn time, something comes up and ruins everything.

  So, he decided to break into his middle school. Well, ‘break into’ isn’t the right phrase – he asked the guard to give him the keys for the night, and even thanked him with a hundred dollar note. Unlike his girlfriend, he’s incapable of breaking rules.

  The guard thought that it was very romantic of him, but really, he’s just tired and wants to get married already. He taps his foot anxiously, and finally hears the door opening, signalling Y/N’s arrival.

  God, she looks absolutely adorable. Her nose is crimson from the cold, and she is bundled under what seems to be ten layers of clothing. She huffs, grinning when she notices him.

  “Are we here to make out? Because your house was much more comfortable and so, so warm.”

  Owen shakes his head. “Nope.”

  “Well, are you gonna murder me, O? Because, well, it’s certainly the perfect location.”

  “I have to tell you something.” He says, taking a step toward her. He looks around and sees that there is nothing that could possibly ruin this moment, and smiles brightly, preparing himself. Y/N’s eyes gleam with anticipation, as she nods for him to continue.

  “Y/N, I still remember the day that I met you. I remember the way you smiled at me even though I had spilled black coffee all over you and ruined your very pretty, white dress.”

  She laughs. “I was really mad at first, yeah. But the cutest boy in all of Oklahoma was in front of me, and well, you know that I was a goner.”

  He smiles fondly. “And the beautifulest girl in the world was in front of me.”

  “That’s not a word.”

  “I know. And then you laughed at my dumb jokes, and even agreed to go on a date with me.”

  “To compensate for that absolutely gorgeous dress.” She clarifies, a teasing smile on her face.

  He grins sheepishly. “And then somehow, somewhere we fell in love, and somehow, you became my other half, and somehow, I can’t imagine a world without you. I don’t want to. You are my best friend, and you are the one person around whom I can be completely myself and face no judgements.”

  “No, I do judge you. You’re a little questionable.”

  “And what would I do without your wicked sense of humour?”

  “Honestly? You’d be lost without me. I mean, you forget to even put your socks in the washing machine.”

  “You’re not supposed to wash them. They go on your feet. Obviously.”

  “That is disgusting, and you know it.”

  He laughs. “I wanna be with you for the rest of my life, and I… I… I want a family with you, you know? I know that we’ve never talked about this, and I don’t know how you would feel about one, but still, if you’re up for it, I’m too. But, if you don’t, that’s okay, too. More than okay.”

  For a moment, an unrecognizable expression crosses her face, and he wonders if he’s hurt her. But then the biggest smile blooms on her face.

  “We should have talked about this. But I would like a family with you, too. I mean, I’ve never really wanted one, and you know why. But, after seeing you and your family, I realized that a part of me does want it. I do want to have the home that I never got to have with you and I wanna do better. I know that you’ll be an amazing dad, and I wanna raise my kid the way that kids should be raised. And I want it with no one else but you.”

  Owen feels as if he’s on cloud nine, and he stares at her for a moment, wondering how lucky he is to find a girl like her. He says, “Y/N, I –”

  Before he can ask her the question, though, her ringtone cuts through the silence of the empty classroom. She whispers an apology and takes her phone out from her jeans pocket.

  She accepts the call and speaks into the phone. “Hey, Luka, what’s up? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Luka, slow down.”

  She exchanges a panicked look with Owen.

  Speaking of Owen, he’s losing it. Absolutely. He was so close. And for the first time, he had both confidence and hope. And something had to happen. He starts to feel annoyed at Luka, his sister, and then immediately feels bad about it, but then starts to feel annoyed again.

  “Oh no, you did what? Do you need me to come?”

  At Y/N’s last sentence, Owen bursts out. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

  Y/N raises her brows at him. He feels anger replacing all his emotions, anger towards the world, it’s timings, and mostly, towards himself.

  Sensing his rage, Y/N gives him a weird look. “What is wrong with you?” She whispers.

  “Everything. Everything is wrong!” He whispers back.

  He starts to feel breathless, and the familiar sensation of a panic attack starts to overcome him. He looks around, trying to focus on something, anything, when he spots the door.

  He looks at his girlfriend, and says, “I love you, but I’m gonna lose it.” With that, he walks by her, and out the doors, while she yells after him.

+1.

    It’s been twenty minutes since he last talked to Y/N, and he has lost all hope. He’s now sitting on a park bench a couple of minutes away from the school, and he is listing all the reasons why his life is absolutely shit.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Owen looks up, and notices Y/N walking up to the bench, with a concerned look in her eyes.

  “I – I just… I’ve been trying to ask you something, Y/N, for the past month. And every time I try to do it, I’m either interrupted, or I’m not confident enough. And, today, there were no distractions, and I was finally feeling confident and hopeful and then my sister decides to ruin it – is she okay, by the way?”

  She nods and sits down beside him. “Yeah, she misplaced her dress for tonight.”

  He grits his teeth in annoyance. He loves her, but his sister has the worst timing.

  Y/N rests a hand on his, an odd look taking over her features. “You should know by now that the answer will always, and obviously be a yes.”

  Owen sharply turns towards her. “What?”

  A brilliant smile makes its way onto her face. “You are gonna propose, aren’t you?”

  A gasp involuntarily escapes him. “How’d you know?”

  “Well, you just said some pretty nice things about me. Also, I can see the outline of the ring box, and you keep checking your pocket for it every two minutes, even if you don’t realize it. You’re literally doing it right now.”

  In his defence, he wasn’t, or rather, isn’t consciously doing it. He slowly retracts his hand from his pocket and gives her a sheepish smile.

  She stands up. “Really, O, are you gonna do it or not –”

  “Yep, yep, yep.” He clears his throat and stands in front of her and drops to a knee. He takes the ring out, and flips open the box, and as the diamond’s reflected light dances across her face, Y/N gasps.

  “Oh my god, that’s gorgeous!”

  He grins. “I have great taste.”

  She smiles teasingly. “I know, baby.”

  “Will you ma–”

  “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”

  “You didn’t even let me finish!”

  “Someone would’ve probably interrupted you and I couldn’t take the chance of you losing your shit again.”

  “You do have a point.”

  “I always do.”

  He slides the ring onto her finger, and she kneels in front of him to match their heights. She wraps her arms around his neck, and he wraps his around her waist, both desperate to be closer, closer, closer.

  “I love you so much.” He whispers into her hair, and she kisses his shoulder.

  “I love you. Forever.”

  She untangles herself from him, and as she kisses him, Owen realizes that he had no reason to be worried at all.

[MASTERLIST]

reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

[r0b0-writes]

Heyaaaaa! Wondering if ya still accepting drabble request, if ya aren’t that’s cool! Sending good vibes your way homie! (๑>ᴗ<๑)

Maybe a little tender moment where Sweet’s hand get hurt and Cap’n is there to help him bandaged it up (even if Sweet tries to push it off at first)

Then Cap’n sealed the boo boo with a little kiss on the knuckles skskskksksk

Ofc, ofc!

I'll keep raining down SweetCap moments for u guys! (see what I did there)?

I had so much fun with this one! I love hand holding and anything to do with hands in general when it comes to comfort. You struck me at my core! I hope you enjoy!

Title: Happy Accident

Words: 1,566 (wow I really did get carried away, my b)

Cap'n flopped down on the sofa, eyes closed as he nodded his head to the smooth beat playing through his headphones. He tapped his fingers to the tempo. Cakes was out at the store so it was just him and Sweet holding down the shop. Which meant Sweet worked in the back while he maned the counter. Even though he wasn't near the counter. He didn't worry, Sweet's nagging would get him to move eventually. That or a customer, but business was slow today, so why shouldn't he relax? They got this sofa for people to sit and wait, he's waiting to do something. He's just making sure the money they spent wasn't wasted.

There was a muffled noise coming from his headphones. He stopped bobbing his head. "(Are they busted)?" Cap'n turned the volume down and listened for any odd humming. He didn't hear anything. Must've been his imagination. Volume up, he pretended to be playing the drums as the song continued playing.

He heard muffling again. His eyebrows pinched together, this time he sat up and removed the headphones entirely. "Tch, these are new ones too, what's wrong with 'em?" He was getting ready to open the back and look at the wiring before he heard a pained groan. Cap'n looked up and towards the back of the shop. "Sweet?"

A loud shout and a string of unpleasant words followed. Definitely Sweet.

Cap'n raced to the workroom, forgetting the headphones. He skidded to a halt at the door, almost sliding past it.

"Sweet? Sweet, are you okay?" He stopped short when his eyes zeroed in on the cube. Sweet was on the floor, cradling a hand in the other. Close by him was a welding torch, lying on the ground.

Cap'n ran to him, sliding to his knees. His hands hovered over the cube, "let me see it." It was a demand.

"I just burned it a little-" "Let me see it." There was no room for arguing with his tone.

Sweet's defiance wouldn't be tolerated, not when it came to his health. Cap'n repeated himself once more, his hand already on Sweet's wrist. The two were at a stand-still for a moment before Sweet relaxed and let Cap'n inspect the wounded area. He let out an annoyed sigh as Cap'n gently turned his hand over.

"You burned it pretty good, dude." "It's not that bad, it just hurt like hell."

Cap'n's features shifted, distress evident. Truthfully, it wasn't nearly as bad as what Cap'n was making it out to be. The glove on Sweet's hand was burned through. It looked like the glove had taken the brunt of the damage. Their hand itself was a little tinged and misshaped, nothing that couldn't be fixed quickly. However, that did nothing to help his concern. This might as well be worth an entirely new hand to him. Sweet might be more durable than he was, but that didn't mean they weren't without limits.

Sweet pulled away, “it’s fine, Cap, really. I can handle it myself.”

The cassette player grabbed their wrist, careful to avoid hurting them. “Stop being stubborn. I’m helping you whether you like it or not.”

"You don't have to, it was my mistake. I should've been watching-" "I know I don't have to, I want to, idiot."

There was a few seconds of silence. The only sound was the steady beats from their chests.

Cap'n sighed when Sweet didn't respond, "I'll get the aid kit. Just- don't move, okay?"

When Cap'n left Sweet looked at their hand for themself. It wasn't that bad, why was Cap'n acting like it was so serious? They looked at their wrist. He had held it with earnest, not meant to be forceful, it was almost desperate. Sweet sighed, what was he going to do now? Knowing Cap'n, he'd insist on closing the shop, lazy. And when Cakes gets back he'd be smothered by it as well. Their chest tightened, they didn't mind being cared for. This was just... embarrassing. He'd never burned himself before. This wouldn't have happened if he had been focused. He wanted to say this was Cap'n's fault, but it was an unfair accusation.

While Sweet had been working, his mind had drifted from the metal pieces in front of him. He wondered how Cap'n was fairing upfront. Maybe he was bored and slacking off again? If he was... they could always go join him, work together at the counter. Which, truthfully, would just mean the two goofing off by themselves. There wasn't much to do in the shop anyway. Yeah, goofing off was okay on a slow day like this. Especially with Cap'n. He just had a way of dragging them from work and letting them relax. Yeah, it would be okay-

And then the burning sensation had struck his hand.

Cap'n walked back in with a small basket of tools and other material. He sat down beside him, took a bottle, and dabbed some of the liquid onto a towel. "Take your glove off. Carefully," Cap'n emphasized. Sweet did as asked, holding back a grimace when it slipped over the burn. Cap'n held a hand out for them. The speaker complied and placed his hand in Cap'n's.

"This might sting a little," Cap'n studied Sweet's face as he placed the towel on Sweet's wound. It caused him to jump, the mechanisms in his arm extended as he fought the urge to push the towel away. "Sorry, sorry," Cap'n moved the towel. "Let me... try something else." Something smoother might be better. Plus they needed to cool the burn to keep it from spreading. This might be a better idea than the disinfectant.

Cap'n took off his own gloves and found a bottle, he poured some of the gel into his palm and took Sweet's hand. "Let me know if this hurts," he mumbled. Slowly, gingerly, he massaged the coolant into the wound. He made sure to not apply too much pressure, just enough to get the job done. He took note of each tiny twitch from Sweet's fingers. The gentle flexing of their palm as the coolant set. Cap'n swallowed, he hoped he wasn't hurting him. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he made his pain worse. Once in a steady groove, the massaging became methodical. Circular to avoid any scrapes, gentle pressure near the center, apply more on the outer area, and don't look up. Don't look up.

He didn't want to meet Sweet's gaze for a few reasons. If it was pained he'd have to stop himself, convinced he wasn't doing something right. He'd watch as Sweet catered to his own wounds. The greater reason was the mental image he had already painted in his head. Sweet looking down at him, his eye zeroed in as he repaired the burned metal. The way they wouldn't be looking at their hand but at him. The thought alone made his hands unsteady. He needed to be focused.

Meanwhile, Sweet wasn't sure how he could feel hurt, seeing how gentle Cap'n was being. He didn't want to admit how it felt comforting to have Cap'n's hands holding his. The gel hadn't stung as bad as the first thing Cap'n had grabbed, and in honesty, maybe that was partly because he wasn't focused on the pain. They closed their eye, only feeling the slightest throbbing from their hand as Cap'n continued.

"Are you okay?" Cap'n asked. Sweet hummed as a response.

It was relaxing, comforting to feel his hands on his. He was being so attentive, such an odd characteristic of the cassette player. Not that Sweet would complain, this was nice after all.

Like a happy accident.

The massaging stopped and Sweet's eye opened to see Cap'n digging in the box. He pulled out the industrial tape and began wrapping Sweet's hand.

"I don't think you should be in the shop for a while." He was probably right. What use would he be with a hand he could barely bend?

"Fine, are we done?" A smirk made its way to Cap'n's lips, "not quite yet. Gotta add the final touch."

Cap’n brought the banaged hand to his lips and kissed the space between his knuckles. "There. All better." He winked.

"C- Cap!" Sweet blushed as he yanked his hand away, which only caused Cap'n to laugh. "What? Doctor's prescription, gotta seal it with a kiss," he shrugged. Sweet rolled his eye and held his hand to his chest. "Y- You just like seeing me flustered!"

Cap'n shrugged, "maybe? But say-la-v, ya know?" "Say-la-what?" "That's life, maybe you'll figure it out or you won't." "You mean... c'est la vie?" "What did I say?"

Cap'n had finished putting everything back in the box. "You probably shouldn't wear a glove on that hand, by the way. But I'll get you an old one just in case." He stood up with the box in hand, "try not to think about me while I'm gone," he made a kissy-face.

"As if!" Sweet shouted as he disappeared from the entryway.

With Cap'n gone, momentarily at least, Sweet looked at his hand. The wrapping wasn't too tight or too loose. It seemed to allow for as much mobility as Sweet would normally want. Disregarding the odd stiffness. They placed their thumb over the space, repeating the motion Cap'n had been doing earlier. Maybe he should have accidents more often?

[is-it-madness]

Everlasting Roses

Based on this imagine by @imagine-loki

A/N: I apparently had enough creativity in me to write this. Please consider it my Valentine’s and birthday gift to all of you. Enjoy!!

Summary: You aren’t partial to Valentine’s Day. At least, until you received a bouquet of roses from someone. If only you knew who. Strange how they never wilted...

Word count: 1480

Paring: Loki x reader

Warnings: fluff? Maybe a teeny bit angsty? Unbeta’d.

Disclaimer: photo isn’t mine

—♥️—♥️—♥️—

Winter was finally ending. But with the end of the cold season came one holiday. One holiday that you wished every year didn’t exist. Or at least that people would make less fuss about it.

Valentine’s Day. You, of course, had no qualms about couples showing each other how much they loved each other. How much they meant to each other. But having the holiday practically shoved down your throat what with all the roses and hearts plastered in every store, looking like Cupid had regurgitated his sickly sweet obsession everywhere. It was, to be frank, quite sickening.

Not to mention the hurt, the constant reminder, the ache that started inside you in early January, when decorations were being put up, advertisements reminding everyone that the holiday was coming up.

As if anyone could forget.

Nevertheless, no matter how alone you felt, how utterly lonely you were, you always kept those feeling to your self. No need to drag anyone down with you, while they were all busy planning on how to surprise their significant other.

Tony, unsurprisingly, would spend an exorbitant amount of money on his gifts to Pepper. Steve opted for a more traditional date with Nat. Wanda, who wasn’t entirely familiar with the holiday, and Vision, who felt more comfortable at the compound, both agreed to stay home and have a movie night together.

Needless to say, you were one of the few people on the team who didn’t have anyone to celebrate the day with. But you were happy for everyone else. Truly you were. Seeing them so smitten with one another was adorable. And you always encouraged your friends to go all out for their partner. They all appreciated your help. And if your face fell after they left, being freshly reminded of how single you were, they never saw it. No one did.

Or so you thought.

—♥️—♥️—♥️—

February 14th. Seven am. You had to get to the kitchen before anyone else. Bucky mentioned something about making breakfast for Sam today and you did not want to witness that disaster.

After showering and getting dressed for the day, you head to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee and snag an apple. As soon as you enter though, you stop in your tracks. Sitting on the counter is a large, beautiful bouquet of red roses. You frown. No one had said they were planning on leaving roses in the kitchen. Everyone who decided on gifting it, wanted to present it to their Valentine. So who were these for?

Stepping closer to investigate, you find a card hidden in the lush greenery.

With a name written in delicate loops.

Your name.

Heart beating rapidly and hands shaking slightly, you pluck the card from the holder and open it. More elegant loops are inside, a message.

‘Someone as lovely as you should not be without a gift on this day.’

That’s it. No signature, no clue as to who could have left these for you. You search the rest of the bouquet, looking for another note, something, but it’s futile. There’s nothing.

“Whatcha got there doll?”

You jump, clutching the card to your chest. “Geez Bucky! You scared me!”

He laughs sheepishly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.” His eyes flit to the letter you were still clutching to the roses behind you. He slowly smirks.

“Thought you said you didn’t have anyone special?”

“I don’t! I just walked in here to get some coffee and found these sitting here. With a card. With... with my name on the card. But I have no idea who left them.”

He holds out his hand and you give him the card. He arches a brow when he looks back up at you after reading the note and you blush.

“I don’t know who it’s from Bucky.”

He hands it back to you and shrugs. “Me either. Maybe you recently caught someone’s eye and they’re too shy to say anything.”

“Yeah... maybe.”

He gives you a reassuring smile and heads to the fridge to make breakfast while you take your roses to your room.

You spend you the rest of the day subtly dropping hints to everyone, trying to see if someone would slip and admit to being the one to have left those for you. Other times, you weren’t so subtle, asking outright but to no avail. Everyone assured you the weren’t the ones to have bought them for you.

—♥️—♥️—♥️—

You tried to forget about the mysterious rose deliverer. Weeks go past and every time you walked past the beautifully fragrant roses, you couldn’t help but try to find out who sent them. You’d stare hard at them, as if the delicate petals held the answers themselves but refused to tell you. It reached to the point where you felt as though they were mocking you. The answer had to be simple, it had to be someone you knew. But you asked everyone you knew. Several times! So much so that everyone would groan when you had that determined look in your eyes.

It’s nearly the middle of March and you’re standing before the flowers, rubbing the soft petals between your fingers. The answer was staring right at you. It had to be. You counted the roses again, as if they offered a clue. Fifteen. Fifteen beautiful, deep, red roses. You inhale their scent, sweet, but never overpowering. How they never lost their scent, astounded you. How they maintained their charming beauty even... even after all this time. Even though you haven’t trimmed them or anything. They still look as stunning as the day you got them... almost a month ago. It’s as if... as if they were staying alive by... by magic.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

You had asked everyone but him about the roses. The thought had definitely crossed your mind, but since when had he taken an interest in you? You brushed it aside, ‘It’s impossible’ you’d scold yourself. The gorgeous dark prince, having feelings for you? The likelihood of that was as likely as Thor knowing how to tap dance. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself.

You go on a search to find him, mind racing.

What if you were wrong? What if it wasn’t him? But fifteen roses instead of the usual dozen or two dozen? Wasn’t three his number or something like that? He had mentioned once, in passing, that the number was usually associated with him. And never wilting flowers? Like the were imbued with a magical spell to ensure they’re everlasting.

Turning a corner, you run into a solid wall of muscles and almost tumble backwards had the person not wrapped their arm around your waist to steady you.

You look up to see it was the man you were looking for.

“Loki! It- it’s you!”

“I am indeed, myself.” He tells you with an arched brow.

A heat roses to your cheek. “No, no I mean... the roses.” Your certainty quickly vanishes as he looks at you with those piercing green eyes. “The roses I received on Valentine’s Day... they’re from you. Right?”

“Took you long enough.”

The grin he gives you at his admission instantly settles your nerves.

“They’re beautiful! Thank you so much for them.” It takes all your will power to not hug him but there’s a question nagging at you. “But... why?”

His brows furrow and he frowns. “Were they not to your liking? I had assumed-”

“No! I mean... I do like them. I love them. But... why me? Why would you give me roses that day.”

“How could I not? They way you would assist everyone in their little schemes, no matter if you were hurting.”

“H-how did-?”

“I could see it, darling. When you thought no one was looking, I saw the pain, the ache you held.”

His arm is still around your waist and he pulls you flush against him. You gape up at him, face still hot. His eyes search your face and he gently brushed his knuckles against your cheek.

“Is it wrong for me to say I’m pleased no one took notice of you yet? For I want you to be mine. If, of course, you’ll have me?”

Your tongue darts out, nervously, and you put a hand on his chest. Leaning close to him, you press a soft kiss to his lips.

“I want you... more than anything.”

He smirks and his eyes turn a shade darker before he kisses you, deeply. You wind your arms around his neck, holding him close as he traces your bottom lip with his tongue, asking for entry. You part your lips in a soft gasp as you feel him hardening against your stomach.

He pulls away, eyes blown dark, the penetrating green barely there.

“We have much lost time to make up for, darling.”

You nod and take his hand, pulling him back to your room, ready to not waste another minute without him.

—♥️—♥️—♥️—

My ride or die: @lehuka123 @thejournalman @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @just-the-hiddles @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @thehumanistsdiary @fanfictionaries @astheworlddturns @bbarnestan @buckyfan12 @vodka-and-some-sass

Loki: @delightfulheartdream @imherefortomhiddleston @molloy-morris @imnotrevealingmyname @lokis-leah @lucywrites02

Tag lists are open!!

[holidaywishes]

It’s Just Sex

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: So I was hoping for maybe a bi reader and her and Fred have kind of like a sugar daddy/dom kind of relationship but not very intense more of a soft caring dom with real feelings there as well. anyway, before the reader met Fred she was in a kind of friends with benefits relationship with a woman and that relationship was also very dom/sub centred and maybe her old lover comes to Toronto for maybe a business trip or something (I’m imagining powerful businesswoman vibes here) and asks the reader to meet her for drinks and when she tells Fred and explains their relationship to him somehow Fred ends up joining them for drinks and maybe her ex lover suggests something and it goes from there 👀

  Warning: smut as requested, drug use, maybe some fluff, maybe some angst or jealousy?

  Author’s Note: Gonna be honest, my experience is limited in, like, all aspects so I don’t know how this will turn out or if it will really be what you’re looking for, anon, but I’m taking my best shot. I hope you still enjoy it! I also want to apologize if I took any missteps in the way I talked about bisexuality — my intention is never to offend and this was my first time writing a bi reader so please feel free to let me know if/where I went wrong. Stay Golden loves <3!

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

  You grew up in Antigonish, a small town in Nova Scotia, so you were used to more of a slow paced life. You got good grades, never broke the law and the only form of rebelling you did came in the form of stealing a five cent candy from the convenience store on the corner of Main Street. So when you moved to Boston for University, you expected to be overwhelmed but you didn’t expect to meet anyone -- but then she showed up

  “Hi there” a voice said confidently behind you, leading you to turn around slowly to see who she was talking to

  “Me?” you asked, surprised when she nodded with a smile, “oh, hi”

  “I saw you order a Manhattan and I thought to myself, ‘now that’s my type of girl’” she joked

  “Honestly, I hate it,” you admitted, playing with the base of the glass, “I thought I was ordering a Cosmopolitan but Manhattan sounded more familiar so I ordered that but now...”

  “You’re cute,” the woman said, taking the empty seat next to you, “I love Manhattan’s so I’ll happily take yours but let me get you your Cosmo”

  “You don’t have to...” you blushed

  “I know” she replied confidently, earning a shy smile from you

  “I’m (Y/N) by the way”

  “Adrianne,” she smiled, “but all my friends call me Roxy”

  “Why Roxy?” you chuckled and she gave some wrap around answer about it being an inside joke from middle school. You were mesmerized with her the entire night. The way she spoke. The way she took small sips from her drink and licked her lips. The way her dark hair would brush across her exposed skin of her back as her smile hypnotized you. The way her hand grazed your knee when she made a joke or the sound of her laugh when you didn’t know she was flirting with you. She gave you her number at the end of the night and you spent the next week trying to think of exactly what to say, “she’s way too good for me” you sighed, pushing your phone across the counter

  “Why?” Your best friend, Nicole, asked. You two went to high school together so she had a habit of hyping you up when she thought you needed it most

  “If you had seen her, you would agree with me, Nic. She just has this way about her,” you gushed, “she’s just cool and charming and way too good for me”

  “You are amazing. Who cares if this girl is ‘cool,’ we’re not in high school anymore so you just need someone who is going to see how amazing you are”

  “Nic, I don’t even know if she wants to start something...”

  “You said she gave you her number right?”

  “Yeah...”

  “So she obviously wants something”

  “Yeah but is all she wants sex? Because I don’t know if I’m the hook up type”

  “Text her. Call her. Find out what she’s looking for” she smirked, filling up a glass of water from the faucet to drown out any argument you tried to make. You scoffed at her ability to brush you off before you grabbed your phone and sent Adrianne a text

  “Wanna go to dinner?” you asked simply

  “I could eat” she replied. Later that night, you found yourself standing outside the restaurant, taking a deep breath before stepping inside, knowing she was waiting for you. It was an effortless night; you laughed, you told her some of your weirdest childhood stories, she told you about her family and what she was doing in Boston. The night was rounded out by following her back to her apartment and letting your bodies take over. You thought that the date went well but you didn’t see her for a few months when she randomly texted you, an occurrence that would happen every two weeks or so from that point on, and it became very clear to you that she was looking for a ‘friend with benefits.’ You weren’t a huge fan of it but you couldn’t get Adrianne out of your head so you went along with it but she didn’t seem to take it well when you said you had gotten a job in Toronto

  “We’ve been doing this for years, Roxy,” you whined, finally able to call her by her nickname, “I’ve graduated, we’ve graduated. I have a chance to start my life with a really successful company and I don’t know why you wouldn’t want me to take it. It’s not like you need me to stick around for anything. You're the one who didn’t want to have any commitments so this shouldn’t cause any problems for you”

  “I just don’t get why you wanna go back to Canada” she said with a tinge of disgust on her words and you felt a rush of rage roll through you

  “Because it’s home” you said plainly, scoffing before turning on your heels

  “(Y/N)” she sighed

  “Adrianne,” you replied softly, “I really hope we can see each other again someday. You will always be such an important part of my life but I need to take this step”

  “I understand,” she smiled, “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean anything about--”

  “I know,” you interrupted with a smile, “I’ll see you.. when I see you.” As soon as you landed in Toronto, a giant grin spread across your face because it finally felt like home. You walked into e=mc2 on your first day anxious to get started and they did not waste any time putting you to work

  “Alright, (Y/N), so we’ve got a wedding on Friday, a conference on Wednesday, a sweet sixteen next month that we have to settle all the details for next week, a gala in about 3 months -- give or take -- that is going to take a lot of work and a lot of time,” your boss explained, rambling slightly as the two of you rushed around the office, “and then there’s all the smaller events that we do. You’ll be very busy. Are you okay with all of this?”

  “Of course!” you exclaimed, struggling to keep up with her footsteps

  “We know it can be a bit jarring at first, because it all happens so quickly, which is why we put a clause in your contract that states you have a 30 day trial period. Like a subscription to Netflix,” she laughed, “to see if you can handle it or if you want to drop it”

  “Smart,” you smirked, taking a breath when your boss finally stopped in the break room and got himself a glass of water, “but I don’t think I’ll need it. I love the fast paced environment”

  “Good,” she smiled in return, “I think you’ll fit in really well here.”

xx

Freddie’s P.O.V

  You had noticed her once before. She was running through the building, clearly stressed about something, when you were walking back to your apartment with Auston. You saw her again a few weeks later, having lunch in the café across the street; you found yourself waiting for the next time you’d see her would be.

  “Shit shit shit” you heard someone whisper from down the hall, finding her rushing down the corridor with an arm full of papers. You tried to move out of her way, not wanting to cause her undue stress when her shoulder connected with your arm sharply

  “Oomph” the two of you said in tandem as her papers went flying

  “Ow,” she groaned as she rubbed her shoulder, her eyes still not looking up at yours while she tried to collect everything that you’d made her drop, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m just in a bit of a rush...”

  “That’s alright” you said softly and she finally looked up at you

  “I... I really am sorry. I’ve been told I need to be more careful” she smiled

  “Really, it’s fine. No harm done,” you replied, “do you have time for a drink?”

  “Uhm,” she hesitated, fixing the bag on her shoulder, “I can’t... I have a lot of work to do. I’m sorry”

  “How about tomorrow?” you called when she hastened down the hall and she looked back at you, not saying anything, “I’m Freddie by the way!” she stopped where she stood before turning around and letting a smile grow on her face

  “(Y/N)!” she returned. The two of you eventually met up for lunch and, after that, couldn’t stop talking to each other; you couldn’t stop thinking about her. “I want to be very clear...” she started one day, after months of day dates, midnight snacks and weekly hookups. You furrowed your brow at her words, “I don’t want to just mess around. I did that once, with my ex, and it wasn’t right for me. If you don’t want a relationship, that’s fine, but tell me now because I don’t wanna waste my time.” Her bluntness was a breath of fresh air and you couldn’t help but be more attracted to with every word she spoke

  “I wouldn’t want to waste your time...” you smirked, wanting to keep her on her toes just a little longer. “I don’t want to mess around either. I’ve done that before and I don’t want to do it anymore either. I want to be with you” she jumped into your arms and crashed her lips onto yours. From then on, the two of you were almost inseparable, learning new things at every turn, “I’ve never heard of Antigonish” you said when she told you about her hometown

  “It’s small but it’s cute. It’s a good place to raise a family...”

  “What about that?” you asked, “a family? You want one?”

  “Are you asking if I want kids?” she teased

  “Maybe”

  “Do you want kids?”

  “Yeah,” you laughed, “I want a big family. Lots of kids”

  “How many is lots?” she asked seriously

  “As many as you’ll give me”

  “Aww aren’t you cute”

  “I know” you joked and she pushed your shoulder playfully. After nearly two years, she had never really opened up her exes, no matter how many times you asked, and it was starting to really get on your nerves

  “Why are you getting so mad?” she yelled

  “Why won’t you be honest with me?”

  “I really don’t have any ‘exes’ so there’s nothing to talk about”

  “You said that your ex just wanted to mess around, so obviously you had at least one ex” you argued

  “I.. I called her my ex because it was easier to explain than we were ‘friends with benefits’ because it was more than that to me but it wasn’t to her but I hate the term ‘complicated’ even if it’s what it was,” she countered, still trying to argue her point but you were caught up on the fact that her ex was a girl that you couldn’t focus. “Freddie?”

  “Sorry,” you shook your head, “you said her. Your ex is a girl?”

  “Yeah...” was all she said, earning a scoff from you

  “That’s it?”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “Was it like an experiment?”

  “An exper-- no it wasn’t an experiment,” she scoffed, “I’m bisexual”

  “And you never thought to tell me?!”

  “It’s not a big deal so I.. didn’t think to mention it”

  “It is a big deal!” you shouted

  “Why? Why is it a big deal?”

  “You dated a woman!”

  “And I’ve dated men... plus, I told you, I didn’t date her. We just hooked up”

  “Look, I don’t care the bisexual thing. I just don’t get why you didn’t tell me about it?” you asked, sitting down on the couch

  “I don’t know... I guess I wasn’t sure how you’d react. Not everyone accepts it, my grandparents sure as hell didn’t” she sighed

  “I love you,” you said, “I’m not your grandparents. You love who you love and that shouldn’t be helped. I’m just happy that I’m the one you love this time”

  “I do love you,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around your neck, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner but thank you for not... overreacting.”

  “Let’s just make this the last secret for a while okay?” you chuckled

  “I can make that work.”

xx

  “I’m in town” a number you didn’t recognize texted you and you racked your brain about who it could be

  “Sorry... who is this?”

  “Ha ha very funny”

  “Nicole?” you sent, thinking that your best friend changed her number

  “No?”

  “Charlie?”

  “Seriously (Y/N)?”

  “I’m sorry. I really don’t know who this is. I don’t recognize this number...”

  “It’s Roxy” your cursor blinked in the empty space of your text box while you tried to think of something to say. It had been almost five years since you last saw her but seeing her name on the screen still made your heart race. Without even trying, she’d begun messing with your head all over again

  “Oh. Hi”

  “Oh. Hi?” she repeated your message before quickly sending another, “really that’s all I get?”

  “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you...”

  “We said we’d keep in touch. That didn’t happen, clearly”

  “You’re a busy woman. Last I heard, you were well on your way to being a CEO at some Fortune 500 company”

  “Ah yes. That planned changed”

  “It did?” you replied quickly, intrigued about what she could be in town for

  “It did. It was fun while it lasted but I’m still busy, I like it that way”

  “What are you up to then?”

  “Well... I think we should meet up and talk about it. I would love to see you” You could picture her lips speaking those words. The way her tongue lingered on the back of her teeth as if she didn’t want the ‘L’ to escape her mouth before her breath could reach it. The way her grin would shape the sound of ‘you’ to make it sound more like an invitation than a word. You saw it all in your head and your fingers responded before you could stop them

  “Sure! What about Friday?”

  “Sounds good. I heard of a bar called The Cloak Bar that has a great vibe. I’m excited to try it”

  “Yeah I’ve heard of it. Do you mind if I bring someone along?” you asked, biting the inside of your cheek nervously

  “Not at all”

  “Great! See you Friday!”

  “(Y/N)?” Freddie said when he saw you staring you at your phone screen in silence, “babe?”

  “Huh?” you said, still frazzled by the conversation you’d just had

  “Everything okay? You look a little distracted...”

  “Wanna go to a bar on Friday?” you blurted out

  “Sure..” he scoffed

  “Good. Great. Good,” you stammered, “that’s good. You’ll get to meet an old friend of mine.. from Boston...”

  “An old friend?” he asked before you finally met his gaze, “an old friend.. your ex...”

  “She’s in town and wants to... catch up”

  “I’m sure she does” he teased, sitting down beside you

  “Don’t be like that. She texted me... I could’ve not invited you, she knows you’re coming”

  “She knows your boyfriend is coming?”

  “She knows you’re coming...”

  “(Y/N)...” he scoffed with a smile, dropping his head, “you didn’t say ‘my boyfriend is coming’ did you?” your silence said everything it needed to and Freddie fell back into the couch

  “I’m sorry!” you tried, embarrassed about what happened, “everything happened so fast! I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know why I didn’t say something about you, why I didn’t mention your name, I’m so sorry! But I do want you there!”

  “Relax,” he smirked, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your cheek, “It’s fine. I get it and you know what? I’m excited to meet this ‘Roxy’“

  “Good. You’ll like her!” you exclaimed, “but don’t call her Roxy... it’s an inside thing. I just wouldn’t want her to like hate you before getting to know you”

  “Okay,” he chuckled, “I promise, I’ll behave.” When Friday came along, you had changed your outfit countless times and you couldn’t calm your breathing; Freddie was finally able to calm you down enough that you could pick an outfit but your nerves were still getting the best of you. You showed up early and found a booth near the back and waited for Adrianne to walk through the door, watching your boyfriend’s reaction whenever you took your eyes off the entrance. “Babe... stop. You’re gonna be fine,” you laughed as he pressed a kiss to your lips, “I’m here for you.”

  “I’m just so nervous... I know I shouldn’t be but I am” you said before taking a deep breath and training your eyes back on the door

  “Is that her?” Freddie asked, nodding to the crowd of people who just walked in and you searched to see if she was among them. When you finally saw her, your first thought was she hasn’t changed a bit

  “Yeah... that’s her” you sighed, watching as her smile went wide when she found you. She was wearing, what looked like, a pin striped suit -- tapered legs with the highest stilettos you’d ever seen topped with a one button blazer, low enough that both you and Freddie could tell she was only wearing a bra underneath

  “Holy shit” you heard him gasp and you hit his chest before Adrianne got to the table

  “(Y/N),” she said in a sultry voice, the same one she’d used that night you first met, “it’s so good to see you again. You look great”

  “Me?” you blushed, “look at you! You look.. wow, just... wow”

  “Thank you” she smiled, her eyes moving to Freddie slowly

  “Sorry, this is my boyfriend. This is Freddie, Freddie this is Adrianne”

  “Nice to meet you” Freddie greeted politely, outstretching his hand to shake hers but Adrianne only smirked in return before taking a seat beside you, tucking herself quite close to you

  “It’s nice to meet you as well, Freddie...”

  “So.. tell me. What’s new? What brings you to the City?” you asked, moving closer to Freddie and his arm draped over your shoulder

  “I’m working on something. A merger, more or less, with the company I’m working for in Boston and one based out of Toronto. It appears the Canadians are not too keen to share with us Bostonian's” she laughed and you felt her hand land on your knee

  “Let’s get some drinks!” you said, clearing your throat, “they have great cocktails here!”

  “Don’t mind if I do” she said in the same sultry tone as before, peering over at Freddie, her hand still stationed on your knee and you could tell she was planning something; what that something was, remained to be seen.

xx

Adrianne’s P.O.V

  You weren’t expecting her to be in a relationship. Not that she wasn’t the type, just that she didn’t give you the impress she was dating but you could see why she was with him. He was big and he looked strong, she probably loved his hands on her body, his fingers inside her; god you missed having your fingers inside her. The way that she sunk into him told you that she felt safe with him and the way that he looked at her told you that he loved her and would likely do anything for her. You bit your lip as you watched the two of them interact, asking questions when you felt like it, keeping that ere of mystery about yourself that you’d always liked to. After two rounds of specialty cocktails and an extra old fashioned you ordered for (Y/N), the group was starting to loosen up a little

  “Babe, I need to get out,” she whispered to Freddie, leaning against his chest as she spoke, “can you move a little?”

  “Where’re you going?” he smirked

  “I have to pee” she giggled

  “Why don’t you just crawl over him?” you teased, half-expecting her to challenge you but wanting to see what she’d choose, when she squinted her eyes in mild annoyance before straddling her boyfriend, pecking his lips gently and shifting her body to the open space beside him.

  “You really bring out a different side of her, don’t you?” he smirked

  “I guess I just know a different version of her” you replied

  “So.. what kind of person handles mergers? What’s your job title?” he pried

  “Technically, I’m an Investment Advisor. That’s what it says on my business card but if you ask my bosses they’ll tell you I’m the badass who manages their portfolios so they don’t get fired or arrested for fraud” you replied proudly

  “Shit,” he scoffed, “sounds important”

  “What do you do?”

  “Nothing nearly as important,” he laughed, “I’m a goaltender. In the NHL”

  “For Toronto?” you asked, genuinely intrigued and he nodded, “well damn. That’s pretty cool. I’m starting to get a better idea why (Y/N) likes you”

  “I mean.. she’s not with me because of my job” he clarified but you could tell you had shaken him

  “Are you sure?” you teased, the situation moving more and more in your favour

  “I--”

  “I’m back!” she interrupted, a grin wide across her face as she slipped back into the booth, reaching across Freddie to grab her drink

  “So..” you continued, ending the conversation between you and Freddie, “what are the plans for the rest of the night, you two?”

  “Fred’s got practice tomorrow afternoon so we probably shouldn’t be out too late” she admitted, draping her arm over his shoulder before kissing his cheek

  “We could go somewhere,” you added, noticing Freddie’s head snap back to you as a glare pierced through you, “just us girls. Catch up some more, dance a little? Like old times?”

  “Rox..” she laughed, climbing onto her boyfriends lap, “I’m not really up for dancing tonight. I kinda miss our bed. All this alcohol is hitting me at once and I just wanna lay down”

  “Hold on,” you mocked, “are we not young? Are we not healthy? Are we not vivacious?”

  “Vivacious?” she chuckled

  “Are we not sexy?” you added

  “I don’t wanna dance tonight, Roxy” she countered

  “I have something for you,” you smiled, glancing at Freddie, “for us”

  “What’s that?” he asked

  “Ecstasy” you said plainly, laughing as (Y/N) choked on her drink

  “Hey!” she squirmed, “that’s illegal!”

  “Relax,” you teased, “we’re not gonna get caught. I only have two tablets, so you each can have half”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea...” (Y/N) hesitated and you shrugged, swallowing the small pill quickly

  “What?” you asked, “I’m not gonna waste a perfectly good pill, a perfectly good night, just because you’re not going to or because your boyfriend here as to stand around on ice tomorrow afternoon”

  “Roxy, don’t be rude!” she yelled before Freddie threw the pill in his palm down his throat, taking a swig of (Y/N)’s old fashioned to chase it down, “FREDDIE?!”

  “Babe, come on. It’ll be fine. Nothing bad will happen, I promise” he assured her

  “We’re here for you” you added

  “It’ll be fun” he said, nuzzling her neck with his nose and kissing her collarbone. She looked at the pill in her hand then back at you and Freddie, “why don’t we try something?”

  “I don’t know what else you guys want me to try?” she whined, earning a small laugh from the two of you, “what?”

  “No babe,” Freddie whispered, taking the pill from her palm, “let me take this and you just...” he leaned in, placing his fingers under her chin to bring her close to him, kissing her slowly and you watched as their tongues danced together, exchanging the pill. You noticed her hands tug at the fabric on his shoulders and you suddenly wondered how fast he could make her cum and if you could do better.

  “Maybe should we get out of here...” you leaned in between them, catching (Y/N)’s stare while her puffy lips pouted and her breath began to build. She looked back at Freddie, biting her lip as she tried to gauge his reaction. When he looked over at you, you raised your eyebrows as if to say ‘come on’ and he nodded in return; the three of you took a car back to Freddie’s apartment, you and Freddie unable to keep your hands off of (Y/N). You sat behind her, hands on her hips, before you pushed her hair away from her neck, planting kisses along the side up to her ear while Freddie messaged her thighs and kissed her shoulder and her hand snaked to the back of his neck. Her moans filling the car let you know that the Ecstasy was kicking in, her hand falling from Freddie’s neck to your leg told you that tonight was going to be exactly what you hoped for.

xx

  You didn’t know how it happened but when the three of you stumbled into Freddie’s apartment, you were hypnotized by the sensations covering your body. Roxy kept her hands firmly on your waist as her lips continued to softly kiss your neck while Freddie directed the two of you to his bedroom, the windows covering the room in an amber hue.

  “Lay down” Roxy whispered. You looked at Freddie before sitting down on the bed, not losing eye contact with him. Roxy was the first to take off any clothing, unbuttoning her blazer to expose the lacy bra she had underneath; you forgot how amazing her body was and you couldn’t control your hands reaching out to touch her. She smiled before leaning in to nip at your lips, placing her hands on either side of you as she hovered over you, making sure you were laying flat on the bed. You noticed her and Freddie exchange a look as if they could read each other’s minds; Roxy moved behind you while Freddie took her place in front of you. They started peeling of your clothes before their hands roamed your body, Roxy pulling you up gently to rest you in her lap before she leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. Freddie was taking his time with you, slowly kissing your thighs and teasing your core as he traded his lips from one thigh to the next, his breath cascading over your skin and driving you mad the more time that went by

  “Oh god” you whined at the lack of connection you were getting, catching Freddie’s smirk as he pulled back to pull off his shirt and Roxy began massaging your scalp. You saw the two of them glare at each other before your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of Roxy’s fingers tangling in your hair

  “You wanna fuck her?” you heard Freddie say, feeling his body hover over yours, “huh? Is that what you came here for?”

  “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Roxy returned

  “This was your plan wasn’t it? When you texted her, you just didn’t think I’d be here” Freddie grumbled

  “I had no idea you existed” she challenged, forcing your eyes to open

  “What the hell is going on?” you yelled to them, sitting up so you were between them. Neither of them answered you, they only glared at each other before continuing to kiss either side of your neck, Roxy’s hand trailing down your body until she found your clit; circling it until you let out a raspy moan, “fuck!” Freddie continued kissing down your body, stopping to kiss your nipples for moment before he stood up to take off his jeans

  “Sit up” Roxy whispered in your ear and you obliged, wrapping your arms around Freddie’s neck to pull him close to you, pushing your breasts to his chest while his hands grabbed your hips and Roxy removed her pants before taking her place behind you once more. “You’re so wet, baby” she smirked as your back began to arch at her touch

  “You look so sexy” Freddie added lowly and you dropped your head against Roxy’s lap until she moved back to lay your head onto the mattress, placing her legs on either side of your head, encouraging you to begin working at her orgasm. You felt Freddie push your legs apart before he guided himself into you, eliciting a loud moan that rippled through Roxy, forcing her to curse into the open space. You pressed your tongue flat against Roxy’s folds as Freddie rocked into your hips, allowing your ministrations to reach Roxy without you trying too much but when she ground her hips down a little, you brought your fingers up, curling them inside her as Freddie’s hands gripped your waist and ground himself into you, harder and harder, you had to stop what you were doing

  “Fuck!” you screamed, reaching out for him with one hand while your other remained where it was, your fingers pumping in and out of Roxy until she reached her climax. She sat back against the pillows as Freddie continued to fuck you, eventually swinging her legs to the side and making her way behind Freddie. You watched as she traced her fingers up his arms, kissing his shoulders while he crashed his hips against yours

  “How tight does she feel?” you heard Roxy whisper to Freddie

  “So tight” he moaned, Roxy continuing to glide her fingers across his body

  “Such a beautiful pussy isn’t it?” she smirked, kissing his neck in the process

  “God yes” he growled, wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you up

  “Make her cum” Roxy whispered once more, her hands moving to push his hips into yours. Their breathing synced with each other as they brought you to a mindless state of bliss

  “Fuck” you breathed, the two of them crashing on the bed beside you, your chests rising and falling in sync.

  “Well shit” Roxy laughed

  “That was great” you smiled

  “We’re not done yet...” she said before your hand fell into Freddie’s chest. He brought it to his lips and you felt him smile against your skin before they moved you up against the pillows. You were exhausted, and you couldn’t say you were surprised; a threesome seemed like a lot of work without the drugs and alcohol and just as much with them. You lazily danced your finger across Freddie’s arm as you caught your breath, letting your free hand glide up Roxy’s leg before she smiled at you. She cupped your face with her hand and pressed her lips to yours, parting your lips with her tongue, allowing you to melt into her body; you felt Freddie’s erection push into your ass before his lips connected with your earlobe. His hands pulled your hips into him while you continued to kiss Roxy, your fingers now tangling in her hair, before you felt Freddie thrust into you from behind. You hummed at the sensation but couldn’t break the kiss you were sharing with Roxy, letting Freddie fuck you as hard as he could.

  “Fuck baby, you feel so good” he moaned

  “Fuck” you moaned in return, catching Roxy’s eyes before she kissed down your body until she reached your centre. Circling your clit with her tongue as Freddie fucked you from behind, your body becoming overwhelmed by sensation. It wasn’t long before you reached your second high, letting out a squeal as both Freddie and Roxy found the exact right spot at the same time, Freddie biting your shoulder as he kept himself inside you until he came. You fell back into his chest, panting as you calmed down, smirking when Roxy didn’t come back up from where she was. “What are you doing down there?” you laughed

  “I’m just catching my breath” she replied

  “I’ll be right back” Freddie said, kissing your temple before getting up and heading into the en suite bathroom. He came back with a damp face cloth and began cleaning you up, turning your body gently to make sure he didn’t miss anything. Roxy scoffed when he left without doing the same for her, “I thought I’d get a clean cloth for you” he said as soon as he came back in the room, doing the same for her as he did for you.

  “Well aren’t you just... perfect” she said, “prince of aftercare”

  “He’s pretty great” you smiled

  “Thanks,” he chuckled, “can I get anyone anything from the kitchen? Water?”

  “No I’m good, thanks babe”

  “I’ll take some wine if you got it. Wine always helps level me out after E” Roxy said

  “You got it, Adrianne” he smirked, making his way downstairs quickly, leaving the two of you to giggle and gossip about him

  “You really love him don’t you?” she said, pushing herself up onto the pillows where you were

  “I do” you confessed

  “You guys are good together” she replied and you could tell there was something she wasn’t saying

  “Thanks...” you furrowed your brow, “what’s wrong, Rox?”

  “Nothing,” she scoffed and you tilted your head, “no really. I just.. didn’t think I’d find you so domesticated”

  “Domesticated?” you laughed, “what about this night says ‘domesticated?’”

  “Not this night,” she smiled, “just how you are with him. It’s sweet. It’s just not what I expected”

  “What did you expect?” you questioned

  “I guess I thought you’d be independent. Being a boss ass bitch, like me,” she laughed, “and not wanting to settle down so you’d be f—”

  “Filling my time with random hookups?” you interrupted and she shrugged like it was obvious, “you know I’m not like that. I’ve never been like that.”

  “I’m happy for you” she added just as Freddie came in with her wine, nearly filled to the brim, “he’s a keeper” she whispered. She made quick work of the wine, finishing it almost immediately after she got it, and decided it was time she head out, “this was fun. Like really fun, but I think it’s time for me to go”

  “Adrianne...” you sighed, using her full name to try to convince her to stay

  “No really. I’ve got an early morning, you’ve got a busy day,” she replied, gesturing to a still-shirtless Freddie, “I had a great time but let’s just let it be that. It was nice to see you again, (Y/N), and it was nice to meet you, Freddie”

  “You too, Adrianne” he smiled sweetly

  “Oh please,” she laughed, “you’ve seen me naked. You can call me Roxy”

  “Why is it Roxy? You never really told me...” you asked with a smile

  “I went as Roxanne, or what I thought Roxanne would look like, for Halloween one year. You know like the Police song?” she explained while you and Freddie nodded, “well anyway, everyone got tired of singing the song to me, real quick, and Roxy was born”

  “I like that story” you smiled, noticing the shyest smile creep over Adrianne’s face; it was the first time she’d really been truly vulnerable with you

  “Take care of her, okay?” she said to Freddie

  “I will” he replied

  “Take care of yourself, Adrianne” you said softly

  “I will” and just like that, she was gone. You tucked yourself into your boyfriends chest and fell asleep; mumbling that you loved him before everything went dark. You weren’t sure if or when you’d ever hear from her again but, if one thing came from this night, you were pretty sure nothing was just sex anymore for Roxy.

[artaefact]

bakery 1995.

—wordcount: 14.7k+

—genre: angst, fluff, romance, baker!jimin, bakery cafe au, childhood friends-to-lovers au

—pairing: park jimin x f reader ft. bestfriend!jungkook

—rating: pg-15

—warnings: age gap (jimin is 4-5 years older), brief mention of physical assault, memory loss, overprotective parents, some intended grammatical mistakes, swearings, y/n is dragged into jungkook’s shenanigans

—summary: After returning from college for summer break, you got yourself a part time job to keep yourself busy. However, things go way too unexpectedly and you find yourself unraveling your forgotten past.

author’s note: this is for @btswritingcafe promptly yours event !! i tweaked the prompt a bit, so hopefully no one would get confused! happy reading ♡

Prompt: “Person A once had a major childhood crush on Person B. Fast forward to college where Person A is convinced it was nothing but temporary, that is until they return home for summer break to find Person B back after being gone for several years. Turns out, they weren’t such temporary feelings.”

© artaefact/eunoiabliss 2020. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

It’s nice to know that no matter how judgemental the world can be, pigeons would never judge you. Despite the clear contrast between yourself and the asphalt pathway, they would not hesitate to excrete waste on either of them and can’t even be bothered by the possible consequences.

Staring at the dropping on your jacket sleeve, you exhale loudly while rummaging your pocket for a kleenex.

‘Out of all the places where their shit could have landed on, it had to be MY jacket,’ you grumble to yourself.

Reaching towards the bakery in the area, you hope they still have some cinnamon rolls you have been craving for. You can already imagine yourself humming in delight as the sweetness spreads across your taste buds and—

“You have got to be kidding me.”

The cashier attendee bows apologetically at you. “We’re so sorry, all the cinnamon rolls are sold out for today.”

Today must be the worst day to date in your entire years of existence. How on earth can a bakery run out of cinnamon rolls?

Groaning internally, you trudge out of the, now, third bakery that has sold out their cinnamon rolls.

Bad luck seems to follow you throughout the day. Is it because you went out of the house while your parents were in the middle of nagging you? For the last few days after you came back home for summer break, they have been constantly nagging you and you would kill to have an hour of peace and quiet.

Mindlessly, you whip up your phone and search up on Google while you walk to the nearby bus station, typing in the search bar — is it bad luck if a bird pooped on you?

Biting your lower lip, you press on the first link that appears on the screen.

Bird poop may be a sign of hope in disguise, you read. Snorting in incredulity, you scroll through the webpage.

It can’t be good luck.

You are not the type to believe in superstitions, however, besides getting pooped on, you dropped your phone on the pavement of the sidewalk just before you reached the first bakery, an hour ago. This resulted in the annoying crack of the screen right in the middle of it. Not only that, the sole of your right tennis shoes came off halfway which hindered you from walking properly and made you look like someone who hurt their leg.

Having had enough for today, you decide to go back home. Until a pastel pink store, right across the street, catches your attention with its aesthetic-looking door.

What’s this? A new—

A dramatic gasp escapes your lips after reading the name of the store, earning confused stares from nearby people. But you couldn’t care less.

Maybe Lady Luck does still care about you.

As soon as the pedestrian light turns green, you excitedly run, no, shuffle through the zebra-cross, reaching the newly-opened bakery.

My last hope is here. Please, let there be—

The interior of the bakery exudes a welcoming vibe, with the color of pale pink being the dominant over the whole place. Basically, it's a place where those Instagram models would kill to take their pictures at. However, it’s not the interior itself that your focus locks on. When the smell of freshly baked goods wafts into your nose, your eyes zero themselves on the various types of pastries that line the display counter, covered in glass domes. And there it is.

“Yes!” You squeal, grabbing the bakery tray to fill it as much as you’d like.

When you place the filled tray in the cash register counter, the cashier comments, “Woah, that’s a lot.”

If it is a normal day, you would have waved it off. However, unfortunately for the guy, it isn’t a normal day for you, after the constant annoying incidents that happened to you earlier. The comment snaps the last thread of patience you have for the day and sadly, targets the person in front of you. “I think you should mind your own—”

You take your thoughts back. Lady Luck is not on your side nor is the universe. They must be having fun, playing pranks on you so much today.

Your words cease immediately at his sheepish yet attractive smile.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammer. “Just having a really bad day and I—”

“No! That’s okay.” The guy grins at you, eyes turning into crescent moons. “I’m the one who should be sorry, I just said the first thing that came up in my mind.”

“Ah...”

“I suck at starting conversations,” he says, sheepishly. “It’s a skill I’m planning to improve.”

Blinking twice, you manage to smile back at him, most probably just a cringed expression. “Well, um, good luck with that.”

As soon as he hands you the paper bag, you dash out of the bakery, not once looking back.

Your cheeks feel hot during the whole trip back home, every time you remember what happened, you would mentally kick yourself.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Eating the warm cinnamon rolls is a blessing and a curse.

You have never tasted such heavenly flavour before, all your worries and exhaustion seem to fade away. This brings you to freeze in the realisation that you’ll want, no, need to go back to that bakery to buy those delicious rolls again. Meaning, you’ll see that cute guy whom you snapped at earlier, again.

His friendly eye-smile burns deep in your mind. But you can’t shrug off the sense of familiarity of his face and his voice…

Have I met him before?

Once you reach home, body aching and tired, you take a quick shower before digging into the rolls. Clicking your tongue, you continue to munch on the rolls in your room while your thoughts pull you in deep.

The sudden knock on your door, however, brings you back to the present. Groaning loudly, you stand up from your padded window seat.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Jungkook.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” Your mouth agape at the sudden visit from your best friend. “Didn’t you say you won’t see me at all until break is over?”

“I might have changed my mind. I was very bored at home.” He enters your room, plopping on your beanbag. “So, now I am bored as hell and— Did you buy food without telling me?”

You met him during freshman year and you both hit it off quite quickly, you might add. After constantly pairing up together in projects, college project meetups gradually turned into hangouts.

“Says the one who claims to see my face every day makes him sick.” You roll your eyes at his dramatic ass, you go back to the window seat, crossing your legs. “It wasn’t planned, okay? I just got back home like thirty minutes ago.”

“But still you nearly finished everything without leaving me much!” He bit your last half-finished roll, letting out a noise of approval. “Which bakery did you buy it from?”

“It’s a new one. I never saw it before we went to college.”

“You should bring me there soon.”

“Nu-uh,” you refuse. “You can go yourself. I am not stepping a foot inside that place any longer.”

“What? Why not?”

“I may have embarrassed myself in front of the worker there.” Then you tell him what happened earlier.

Jungkook shakes his head in pity. “My poor Y/N, how do you always embarrass yourself when I’m not around? How would you survive in this world without me?”

Snorting at his words, you lean against the pillows on your back. “You’re the lucky one to have someone like me as his best friend. Anyways, how about that job I’m looking for?”

“Oh!” Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “Right, I was about to tell you! My friend is looking for a part-timer for his cafe.”

“Hmm, that sounds…”

Jungkook answers, “Boring? I know you’re looking for something much more exciting and—”

Narrowing your stare at Jungkook’s obvious judgmental face, you cut him off. “It sounds perfect, actually.”

Sighing, Jungkook whips up his phone. “You better bring me leftovers every time you get off work. I’ll bring you to his cafe tomorrow.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“What? Why?”

“You little shit—” You smack his arm.

“Ow! Stop that, woman! I thought you said—”

“This is a fucking bakery, dumbass!” You hiss at him.

Jungkook gapes at you. “It’s a bakery cafe, what’s the difference?”

“It’s different! I can’t go back in there!” You whine in embarrassment.

“Wait— So this is the bakery where you embarrassed yourself?”

Nodding wordlessly, you exhale before catching Jungkook failing to stifle his laughter. “Shouldn’t be too big of a problem. He’s nice, Y/N.”

“But—”

“And I told him you were coming…” Jungkook scratches the back of his head.

After contemplating for a while, you decided to gather your courage and enter the sweet-smelling bakery with Jungkook.

Too late to go back now. It was either this or staying bored at home for the rest of the summer break, facing your parents’ look of disapproval at your lack of daily activities, or to be more exact productivity.

The cute guy just finished placing cakes inside the glass displays on the counter, then his gaze shifts to where you and Jungkook are standing.

“Jungkook!” The cute guy’s brown hair is slicked back as he takes off his baker’s hat, approaching your best friend.

“It’s been so long, Hyung!” Jungkook greets back with a hug, smiling from ear to ear. “And wow—” His eyes skim through the pastel-themed cafe. “You finally opened your own cafe.”

Watching them interacting is a foreign sight to you. It’s a rare right to see Jungkook, the usually shy one, so friendly and comfortable around the cute guy.

If you’re lucky enough, maybe the cute guy won’t remember you and—

“Ah! Miss Cinnamon Rolls!”

Scratch that. Of course, he still remembers you.

“I didn’t know you were looking for a job.” His eye smile lands on you finally and your throat dries up.

Jungkook fails to hold back his laughter. “Miss Cinnamon Rolls? Just how much did you buy last time?”

After sending a brief glare at your best friend, you introduce yourself to the cute guy, “Y/N.”

As soon as your name slips past your lips, the cute guy freezes momentarily, eyes widening a fraction. “Y/N?”

You nod slowly.

“Uh,” He fumbles. “Jimin. Park Jimin.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“So, this is the kitchen area. We need to get the place ready by 8:30. Can you come by at 6 the latest?”

You nod at his question.

“We have a different menu each day. It will take some time for you to learn everything. But don’t worry I’ll teach everything you need to know.” He shoots you a smile, sending your heart to slightly flutter as you fiddle with your fingers.

Thank goodness Jungkook has left. Or else you’d never hear the end of his teasing or knowing smirk.

“I’m starting with bread and cakes these past few days before I open up the cafe section.”

For the rest of the day, Jimin spends his time letting you know everything about how the bakery runs whenever there are no customers. Even gracing you with two pieces of freshly-baked cinnamon rolls which made your cheeks burn in embarrassment at the memory of your first encounter.

“Go ahead, enjoy it,” Jimin shoots you a knowing grin.

Muttering a quiet ‘okay’, you take the first bite — holding a delighted groan at the sweetness that bursts through your tastebuds.

Propping his chin on his hand, he stares at you in amusement. “You must really like cinnamon rolls, huh?”

“They’re my comfort food,” you admit after swallowing down a piece. “My late grandmother used to make a lot of rolls at home.”

“I see… Well, have you ever baked before, Y/N?”

“The basic stuff like chocolate chip cookies…”

“Oh, that’s great—”

You added quickly, “But I nearly burned down Jungkook’s kitchen, though. He banned me from the kitchen ever since.”

A surprised laugh escapes the man’s lips which you don’t mind hearing more often, especially if you are the one behind it.

“At least the cookies still turned out great. It was a bit on the burnt side but still good… Crispy and crunchy.” You nervously chuckle. “But I swear, I’m not that bad if you provide a clear recipe!”

Still giggling, Jimin leans forward on his seat. “I can teach you everything you need to know. The basic stuff on baking and then there would be clear recipes I can provide you.”

Your eyes lighten up at that. “Yes! I’ll try my best.”

Arriving at the bakery at 6 am sharp, the next day — your official first day at work — Jimin can be seen moving back and forth from the small window opening connecting the kitchen and the bakery itself, already busy in the kitchen.

The smell of his work wafts through the entire bakery, indicating that he has been there for quite some time. Once you enter the kitchen, your mouth waters instinctively at the smell and sight of freshly-baked breads on the counter.

“How can I help?” From observing the finished baked goods, your eyes shift curiously at some ingredients — eggs, chocolate chips, sugar, flour — on the kitchen counter while you tighten the knot of your apron.

“You’re going to bake some chocolate chip cookies.” Jimin places a tray full of another different set of bread near the first one through the window. “So, go ahead, preheat the oven first.”

Following his instruction, you move towards one of the ovens. “Um…”

The corner of his lips quirks up at your obvious confusion before he chimes on how hot the oven should be set on.

With a brief nod, you turn on the oven. “Is this a test to see how far my baking skills go?” When you take a glimpse of the honey-haired man, he returns it with an amused grin of his own.

“Bingo.” Jimin’s smile is boyish and carefree and his eyes become crescent moons.

In other words, it made your heart race. However, you dismiss such unprofessional thoughts quickly before blood rises to your cheeks.

Clearing your throat, you move to the counter and start mixing the necessary ingredients altogether and set the dough on the baking tray. When the oven is preheated, you bring the tray towards it only to realise your mistake too late: not opening the oven first.

“Let me help,” Jimin says softly, opening the oven deftly.

“T-Thanks...” you mumble, concentrating on the task at hand.

Time passes quickly, before you know it, the oven makes a soft ‘ting’ sound. Opening it, the sweet smell wafts through the kitchen.

“I did it!” you say, excitedly placing the hot tray on the marble counter.

“But the final test is how the cookies taste.”

You watch in nervous anticipation as Jimin pops one of the cookies into his mouth. Not a moment later, he lets out a surprised sound.

“This is really good, Y/N. You do have the talent to bake.”

You beam at his words.

“Since that’s all set, I believe we still have other kinds of pastries to prepare for the day. I have all the recipes prepared for you here.” He motions to the notebook on the counter — you flip through it, astonished at all the recipes.

“Are these your own personalised recipes?”

Nodding, Jimin shoots you a grin. “I’ve always loved baking and there are some ways to make things with their own unique taste.”

The rest of the upcoming hour, you and Jimin were busy baking with Jimin instructing and giving you pointers. At some point, you even talked about anything and everything, as if you both have known each other all your life while you both work.

You have to admit, you find it really enjoyable. When the bakery closes, you sit quietly on one of the empty tables near the cashier after Jimin tells you to wait.

Mindlessly flipping through his recipe notebook, your attention soon shifts to Jimin himself with a steaming cup in his hold.

“Here.” He sets the cup in front of you.

You look at him quizzically before he motions for you to try.

“I’m opening the cafe part next week,” Jimin says. “Thought you can be the first to judge my caramel macchiato.”

“That’s a lot of caramel in one drink…” For a few moments, you observe the steaming coffee, froth decorates the top of it with drizzles of caramel in patterns of criss-cross nearly covering most of the foam itself. “Why caramel macchiato, though?”

“I thought you’d—” He clears his throat. “So many people really love caramel macchiato. So, I thought I’d go with this one for you to try first.”

Bringing the cup carefully to your lips, you take a sip of the beverage. The texture of the coffee is so smooth and the slight bitterness spreads through your taste buds and down your throat. Then you taste the caramel, letting out a delighted surprise when you find caramel bits inside the beverage.

Jimin keeps his stare on you, one hand supporting his chin and his eyes unreadable.

“What is it?” You ask, after downing the drink.

He blinks as if he was lost in his own thoughts. “Uh, how is it?”

“It’s very good.”

“Do you like coffee?” He asks.

Nodding, you tell him you loved to steal your mom’s coffee when you were younger. “There used to be a cafe near my place. I used to go there frequently during my high school years.”

Jimin briefly stills at yours words. “Do you... Still go there?”

You shake your head. “It was closed two years ago unfortunately.”

“Hmm, that’s a shame. I would’ve wanted to try the coffee there.”

Chuckling at his words, your mind takes you back to your high school days. “It was really good.”

Humming to yourself, you continue to flip through the pages of Jimin’s recipe notebook. “What’s this?” You stop at one page, pointing at a child’s drawing on his recipe notebook. “Did you draw it when you were younger?”

“It’s a shooting star.” Jimin answers. “And, no. I didn’t.”

“Oh? Sister? Brother?”

“I don’t have a sister and my brother just does not have the artistic skill to draw that,” he laughs. “It was someone from my past. Someone who is precious to me.”

“Oh…” Noticing his faraway gaze on the notebook, you sense it is a sensitive topic. “Why a shooting star though?”

“It represents hopes and wishes, according to her.” His smile turns nostalgic. “I was having a hard time back then. But this girl,” he chuckles as if in disbelief. “— just straight up grabbed my notebook and drew a shooting star on it, saying I should wish on this star since seeing a shooting star is not that common here.”

There’s something sad but warm in Jimin’s tone as he talks about this girl. You can only assume that this girl is not in his life anymore. Or even in this world.

“I see…”

“As ridiculous as it sounds, I actually did it. Very frequently in all honesty. Whenever I’m having a hard time, I’d wish upon that star.”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

A week passes quickly and just like a normal day, you arrive back home just a quarter past eight. Tugging off your shoes near the doorway, you hear your dad calling from the living room.

“Yes?” Mindlessly, you step into the living room only to meet the stern glare from him.

“Where were you?” Your dad asks. “Do you have any idea what time it is now?”

“It’s around eight...”

“And your curfew?”

Furrowing your brows, you gape, “I thought that was back in high school.”

“That still applies until now. I expect you to come back before seven.” Then he repeats his question, “Where were you?”

“From my new part-time place.” You answer. “I thought I told you about it.”

“If you want a job, you can intern in the company for the summer,” your dad sighs. “There’s no need for part-time jobs.”

You should have known it would last just three days before you are missing your university life, or to be more specific living alone. With the constant nagging from your parents, you crave for silence for a period of time. One thing you have been missing quite badly you have to admit, which is why you took the job in the bakery. Away from the scrutinising stares of your parents.

Here it goes again.

“I don’t think I’m ready to start there, Dad,” you exhale. “I want to do other things while I can.”

The same topic, the same debate you’d try to avoid as much as possible ever since you arrived back home for the summer. That was why you’d try to find something else to do. You always wanted to try a new hobby over the holidays. Now, with the excess amount of time in your hands, you are able to try.

That is why you opt for the part time job Jungkook found — working in the bakery.

“This isn’t going to work if you get home after your curfew, Y/N. You know how dangerous it is if you come home late.”

“I’m an adult now,” you reply, exasperatedly. “I can take care—”

“Things can get unpredictable, Y/N. It’s better that you’re safe than sorry.”

“Dad, when will you stop reminding me of that?” You groan in annoyance. “I don’t even remember how the accident happened.”

“The more reason for you to be cautious!”

Exasperated, you storm up to your room and carelessly throw your bag on the side of your bed. Laying on your back, you stare at the ceiling as your thoughts muddle when you try to think of what happened.

All you remember back then is that you woke up in the hospital, met with the worried gaze of your parents as soon as you got your consciousness back. However, they never tell or fill you in on what happened.

Gradually, your eyelids grow heavier — exhausted from the day and the burst of negative emotions over the argument you had earlier. Thus, you succumb to sleep. However, your mind takes you elsewhere.

Everything is dark.

With your own ragged breathing, you struggle to keep yourself as quiet as possible, biting down a hiss from the sting of your scraped knees. Tears pool in your eyes as you wait, hidden behind one of the playground’s slides and out of sight of any possible passerby.

There are no memories of what happened beforehand. All you know is to stay there and wait.

“Y/N?”

Peeking out of your hiding place, the figure draws closer calling your name in another hushed whisper.

But you knew this voice. So, you whispered back, “Here...” As soon as you get out of your hiding place, a warm embrace envelops your small frame.

“We’re okay, everything’s okay. I’ve lost them. We’re safe now,” he whispers, stroking your head softly while your fists clench on his shirt.

Not a moment later, your tears start to fall and you sob into his shirt. He tightens his hold on you, one hand on the back of your head as he repeatedly whispers, “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“I’m here...” His voice then seems to echo and your surrounding becomes a blur.

When you open your eyes, you realise you’re back in your room yet there are stray tears in your eyes. Sitting up on your bed, you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

Was that a memory…?

“Have a good day.” You bid the last customer of the day farewell and once they leave, your cheeks droop into a frown. With a sigh, you walk out of the cashier register place towards the front door, turning the ‘Open’ plate to ‘Close’.

The dream you had last night still felt so vivid that you considered it was a flashback of your memory loss. You wanted to ask your parents about it. However, yesterday’s conflict was still fresh. You were sure they would dismiss it.

After cleaning up the counters of the bakery café and mopping the floors, you trudge into the break room, sitting down on one of its chairs as you wait for Jimin’s return from his “errand”.

Your mind takes you back to the dream where someone was hugging you tight.

Who was it? you wonder. In the back of your mind, somehow you never felt his warmth among your high school friends. The guy who was holding you is just different.

You are so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t realise Jimin entering until he brings something right in front of your face. “What—”

“Hot chocolate,” he answers, softly. “You seem distracted today, I thought this might cheer you up.”

Taking the steaming cup from him, you mutter your thanks before breathing in the sweet smell, blowing softly on the beverage. “That was fast.”

“Hmm?”

“Wait, did you go out to buy this?” You lift the warm cup of hot chocolate.

Jimin lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “I wanted to make you one. Until I realised that the ingredients are finished. So, I had to run out.”

“You didn’t have to, you know…”

“I know. But I wanted to anyway.”

Your eyes look down, can’t help feeling touched by his sweet gesture as you fight back to keep yourself from blushing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He must have noticed the change of your expression before he says quickly, “Only if you’re comfortable, of course! I just thought talking about what’s on your mind can ease you. At least a bit.”

Blinking your eyes twice, a chuckle escapes your lips. “I guess so.”

“That’s your first smile today.”

You raise a brow at him.

“Your first real smile, I mean. Your cheekbones do not have much tension if you’re genuinely happy whereas if you fake a smile, it seems more like you’re cringing. Like our first encounter.” He chuckles, meaningfully.

“I’m sorry...” you mumble, eyes glancing down at the steaming hot chocolate on your lap.

“That’s fine,” he says easily. “Everyone has their bad days.”

You smile slightly at his words. “Had a fight with my parents last night.”

Jimin stays quiet, still listening to you.

“They are always so protective when it comes to me. Maybe a bit too much at times. I’m a grown adult for fuck’s sake.” Another sigh escapes your lips before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “My dad especially. He made it sound like a big deal when I came home around eight. I’m just frustrated at this.”

“Have you talked to him about it?”

You nod in response.

“Was there something that made your dad feel that way?”

“I...” You blink. “I guess it’s because that one time I ended up in the hospital?”

“You did?”

You nod. “A few years ago, I had an accident.”

Jimin stiffens at your words. “Oh?”

“But it was nothing. I didn’t even remember what happened in all honesty.”

He stutters, “W-What?”

“I lost my memories. I had no recall of the accident at all.” Eyes training blankly on your front, focusing on nothing as you dive back into your memories. “My parents told me there is nothing to worry about and my memories would come back gradually. They never filled me in on what happened too.”

The corner of his lips soon quirks up slightly, his expression wistful. “Maybe they wouldn’t want you to be traumatised by what happened. It’s already fortunate enough for you to be able to recover from your head injury.”

“Yeah... I guess so,” you mumble.

However, since that incident you can’t deny the feeling of something missing since a chunk of your life has been cut off. No memories of the accident have returned even after years. Recovering from the head injury—

“Wait—” Head snapping to face Jimin. “How did you know I had a head injury?”

Jimin blinks repeatedly, as if your words just sink in. “Ah! I mean isn’t it a head injury? You lost your memories after all.” An awkward laugh escapes his lips. “Usually, people who lost their memories have head injuries, right?”

“Well, yeah...”

“Anyways, finish the hot chocolate and you should head home before your parents—”

Suddenly, a wave of deja vu washes over you. Snapping your gaze from the hot chocolate in your hands, you look at Jimin as your brain starts to grow fuzzy at the familiarity of Jimin’s words.

“Jimin...” you begin.

“Huh?”

“Have we ever met before I started working here?”

“You mean the first time you came into this bakery?”

You shake your head. “No, even before that. Did we know each other?”

A surprised glint appears in his eyes before it dissipates as quick as it appears. “I don’t think so…?”

Oh.

“Maybe we’ve just ran into each other at some point in town. But I don’t think we ever knew each other.”

“I see...” Disappointment floods through you at his words.

Right, you thought to yourself. If he was a close friend he would have recognised you instantly when you came to his bakery.

“Oh, look at the time.” Jimin stands up. “You need to be home before dark, right?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

He shakes his head. “It’s alright. You’ve finished cleaning today. I just need to close up and check the supplies.”

“But—” Your words die in your throat when Jimin pats your head.

“You’ve worked hard today,” he grins at you.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“I’m home,” you call out to no one in particular before you hear your mother from the kitchen.

Once you reach the kitchen, your mother turns her head to see you. “Help me set the table, dinner’s almost ready.”

Nodding, you follow suit. “Where’s Dad?”

“Your father is still caught in a meeting. He’ll be home late.”

“I see,” you mutter, placing the silverwares on the table.

“How’s work?” your mother asks. “You’re home earlier than usual.”

“It’s great,” you answer. “The boss lets me off early.”

And you continue to talk about your day. From helping Jimin bake cakes and bread early in the morning, serving customers coffee and desserts, cleaning up the whole place, and enjoying the hot chocolate Jimin bought you earlier.

“He sounds like a nice guy,” your mom muses when you both sit at the dinner table.

“He is.” A smile appears on your face, remembering his sweet gesture and warm presence. Then your mind shifts to the conversation you had earlier, and what has been bothering you lately. “Mom?”

“Hmm…?”

“Five years ago, how did I end up in the hospital?”

Your mother noticeably stiffens at your question, ceases digging through her plate of food.

“You and Dad never filled me in. You both kept on saying that my memories will return eventually… Until now actually.” You let out a breath. “I think I’m old enough to know what really happened.”

Letting out a deep breath herself, your mother puts down her fork. “What do you remember?”

“I was at a playground and hiding… Then there’s someone who came to find me.” Met with silence from your mother, you continue, “Was it one of my friends?”

Shaking her head, your mother answers, “It wasn’t any of your high school friends.”

“Then who…?”

“You never mentioned his name. But you’d always talk about him back then.” Your mother sighs. “Go through the attic when you’re having a day off. You’ll find some of your old stuff I hid there. Make sure your father is not home.”

Standing up, you want to go there at once. However, your mother stops you. “Y/N, listen to me. Whatever you find there, if you… If anything hurts or feels just too much, I want you to stop, alright? You’re a grown adult and I trust you’ll prioritise your own health.”

Nodding wordlessly, you finish the remaining food on your plate.

[ when you were fifteen years old: after the incident ]

When the dismissal bell rings, some students instantly scramble from their desks, some stretch lazily on their seats and have conversations with others.

“Hey, Y/N.” One of your classmates calls you, a smile etched on her face. “So glad to have you back.”

“Yeah! This sem has been a pain in the ass. You’ll get through it in a breeze!” Another classmate adds.

You respond with a grateful smile of your own before packing up your things.

It hasn’t been that long since you were released from the hospital. You have persistently insisted your parents to let you go back to school and they finally relented after you promised them that you’ll go straight back home and to not strain yourself after dismissing your parents’ idea of hiring a driver.

Today is your first day back. Your friends greeted you excitedly when you stepped into the classroom. Even those who you recall never talked much with you greeted you with a ‘Hi’.

Walking mindlessly through the streets of your neighbourhood, your legs take you to a cafe as you recognise the familiar scent of coffee.

Tilting your head in confusion, you stare at the cafe building in shades of black and brown.

What exactly are you doing here?

There were no planned meetups with your friends, yet, your body seems to find its way here. Fishing out your phone, you scan through the past messages to double check any planned hangouts.

It’s a Wednesday.

But…

With the curiosity nagging inside you, you search for Beomgyu’s contact.

[ 4:05 PM ] You: beomie, do you know the cafe near my place?

[ 4:05 PM ] Beomgyu: i guess?? Every wednesday you'd always go there for no apparent reason at all. When i wanted to tag along you’d always give me the devil eye :(

[ 4:05 PM ] You: oh… that’s… well, sorry lol. Do u wanna come here?

[ 4:06 PM ] Beomgyu: wait, r u srs ???

[ 4:06 PM ] You: i mean if u’re not busy and i think getting coffee and hanging in the cafe would be good.

[ 4:07 PM ] Beomgyu: i'd never thought this day would come :’) i’ll be there in 10.

Chuckling at your friend’s response, you place your phone back into your pocket. Exhaling, you enter the cafe and make your way towards the cashier register.

“Welcome, what would you like for today?” The person smiles at you.

“Caramel macchiato, please.”

She nods, typing in your order. “That will be four dollars.”

After exchanging your payment with a receipt, you wait at an empty table for two near the window. Something about this familiar place, however, feels off. Like there is something missing that you can’t seem to put your finger on.

Your thoughts are cut off when someone takes the seat across from you. “Why are you so deep in thought?”

Beomgyu stares at you quizzically as you blink in realisation. “Uh…”

He narrows his stare at you suspiciously before shifting his gaze around the cafe. “So, what is it that kept you going here?”

You shake your head in response. “I have no idea either. Honestly, I have this gut feeling to come here when I passed by earlier.”

“Hmm, maybe the coffee?” Beomgyu watches one of the waitresses bringing your orders, placing it on your table.

Sighing, you stare at the steaming cup with caramel drizzles on the foam for a few moments. Then you bring the cup to your lips to take a sip.

“Argh, why is this bitter?” Scrunching your nose, you motion towards the waitress for extra caramel.

“Did… Your taste buds change too? You said the caramel macchiato here is perfect.”

A snort escapes you as you drizzle more caramel into the coffee. “I got hit in the damn head, Beomie. It doesn’t change my taste buds.”

He shrugs. “Well, who knows. I never knew you like caramel that much.”

You freeze momentarily.

“Y/N? You okay?” Beomgyu waves a hand in front of your face.

“Y-yeah, I just…”

“You just…?”

Shaking your head once more, you whisper, “It’s nothing…” But your eyes scan through the busy workers in the cafe.

Deep inside, you had an inkling that the coffee here isn’t your sole reason for coming here.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Turns out you were right.

Once when you came into the cafe on another Wednesday, you sat at your usual place after ordering your usual drink.

“Oh, my dear, you’re finally back,” someone says.

Blinking, your gaze snaps to the elder woman — maybe around her mid fifties — and you give her a small smile before asking, “Do I know you...?”

It was her turn to look confused at your words.

“I’m really sorry for not recognising!” You grow flustered at your words. “I lost my memory in an accident a few months ago...”

“Oh, that’s awful!” The lady — a regular customer, you assume — gasps. “So that’s why you don’t frequent this cafe anymore. The young man looked so heartbroken before he quit his job—”

“Young man?”

“The barista, dear,” the lady replies. “You used to come here and meet him. I had to shush the both of you every time to not disturb the other customers.”

“I... Was he from my school?”

The lady shakes her head. “I don’t think so. He never wore a uniform like yours.”

“Do you know his name?”

The lady shakes her head once more. “His name was Park. Probably that’s his last name. At least that’s what is written on his name tag.”

And you internally groan. There are thousands of people with that last name.

“Do you know where he’s gone?”

“I’m afraid no, my dear. I heard he quit the job suddenly.”

Sighing, you thanked the lady before heading out of the cafe with your shoulders dropping in defeat.

The trapdoor makes a loud creaking sound when you lift it up, indicating that it hasn’t been used for a very long time. Slipping the key back to your back pocket, you step up further on the ladder with the trap door laying on another side as you go through it while the floorboards creak underneath your weight.

It didn’t take you long to locate your old things. Scanning through the boxes, you find one doodled in various flowers and rainbows with your name written on it as well.

With a grunt, you lift up the dusty box, bringing it down to the floor with a thud which causes you to cough at the flying dust. In an attempt to swat the dust away, you wave your hand in front of you. Still coughing uncontrollably with your eyes watering. After your cough ceases, you crouch and open the box. A few notebooks can be found inside along with some old dolls from your childhood.

You vaguely remember the locked diary you liked to write in about your day and its pale pink cover which was covered in sparkling stickers you used to be obsessed with.

Digging further through the books, you finally found it — the possible answer to your lost memories — with a small key dangling on the lock.

Climbing down from the attic, you made your way to your room while fumbling with the lock and key of your old diary. After successfully unlocking it, you take a seat on your padded window sill, flipping through the yellowing pages.

The first page was clearly written by you. Your old handwriting and your name. The first entry you wrote dates back to a decade ago.

Your fingers twitch at how cringe-y most of the entries are. Yet, at the same time you find it endearing how you used to write about your day. The good, the bad, and the normal things — appreciating just to be able to experience and get through them.

The last of your entries date back to months before the incident when you were fifteen. Probably because you decided that you were too old to write diaries any longer.

Recalling how you’d always visit the cafe every Wednesday, you skim through Wednesday entries. However one particular name seems to stand out in those entries.

“Mochi?” You flip from one entry to another. Who the hell is that?

Deciding to get to the bottom of this, you search for the earliest entry that you can find — nine years ago.

I met the hot choco guy again, today. I’m feeling so happy!!! He is so nice. why can’t any of the boys in my school be like him????

Hot... Choco? Furrowing your brows, you skip to the next Wednesday entry.

i am feeling so happy that mama brought me to the cafe last last week!!! she do not let me drink the coffee drink, so Mochi give me hot choco! i think it’s the best BEST drink EVER!!!

“How the hell did hot choco guy turn into Mochi?” you mumble to yourself, flipping through your diary to the next Wednesday entry.

Mochi teached me how to do math!!! It was so fun! But when Teacher Lee teaches me, it’s always boring. How did Mochi make math fun??? I wish he go to my school instead and teach me math :(

You internally cringe at your younger self. Exhaling, you press your temple in disbelief.

This whole diary of your younger self is basically gushing over this hot-choco-turned-Mochi guy as you flip through other pages. However, you stop at a certain entry.

Today… Is a very bad day. But Mochi suddenly makes it better.

Glancing at the date — it was the day your grandmother passed away.

He promises to make me cinnamon rolls whenever i tell him to! Just like Grannie… I’m sorry, Diary. I don’t think i can write more today. I just hope tomorrow will be a better day.

“Mochi…” you mumble repeatedly with furrowing brows and the name seems to trigger your brain to relive some memories.

“I’m calling you Mochi!” You hear your own twelve-year old voice. Yelping, your diary lands on the floor with a small thud.

“No!” Another voice rings in your head — familiar and warm. “That’s a really uncool nickname.”

“But you look like a mochi! And it’s not uncool! I think it’s really cute!”

Blinking, your mind brings you back to reality. Reaching down for your diary, you freeze momentarily before clutching your head. For a moment, your heart stops when your gaze lands on your diary’s open page — a drawing of a familiar shooting star.

Mochi is… Jimin?

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ when you were twelve ]

When another sigh escaped his lips, you glanced up from your math workbook — his face can only be described as perturbed. With no hesitance, you quietly pushed the last cookie on your plate to him, earning his glassy stare as it shifted from his notebook that’s lying open on the table.

He blinked a few times before clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you finish that? Do you want to bring it home?”

You shook your head, heat tinging your cheeks. “It’s for you. You look like you need it.”

“It’s caramel cookies.”

Nodding, you mumbled, “You said eating it can comfort people.”

The boy stared at you for a moment longer — recalling the time when you had a bad day and he gave you that, then he chuckled. “I guess I did.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded again. “I can order hot chocolate for you too.”

He reached for the last cookie, finally a small smile you have awaited appearing on his face. “This is enough, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Thanks.”

You beamed at his words, then you extended one hand to take his notebook and draw a shooting star on the page it was opened on.

“We can’t really see shooting stars in here,” you explain, pushing his notebook back to him. “So, whenever you’re having a hard time, wish on this shooting star! It represents hopes and wishes!”

“What that’s—” He stopped himself. Letting out a sigh, he found himself nodding despite how ridiculously endearing the idea was. “Alright. I will.”

The blare of your alarm jolts you awake. Groaning, you grab your phone, turning off the alarm when you realise you have to go to work. You can’t find it in yourself to see Jimin today. Not after finding out that he was, is, part of your missing childhood memories.

Your gaze lands on the diary, laying open on your window sill. As you read more and more of your diary entries, Mochi being Jimin just makes sense. You remember how he went out of his way just to buy you hot chocolate when you were having a bad day — just like in the past.

After all this time, Jimin is actually part of, no, in most of your childhood life.

And he denied it.

Why?

You continuously drift back to that one question. Why did he deny it when you asked him? Don’t people usually love to get reacquainted with their childhood friends?

Sighing, you message Jimin listlessly, telling him you aren’t feeling well before you turn off your phone completely. You don’t think you can handle interacting more with him.

Hours passed, when someone barges in your room. “Y/N!”

Peeking out from your blanket, you glare at your best friend. “What the fuck, Kook?”

“Jimin told me you aren’t feeling well. So, I came to check up on you.”

“Okay, you did. Now, go back home.”

Without responding, he opens the curtain in your room, letting in the piercing sunlight and you let out an annoyed ‘tsk’.

Should have known your best friend isn’t going to let this go easily.

“What’s wrong with you? You’ve been off the whole weekend. You may be able to trick Jimin but you can’t trick me.”

Still burying yourself under your blanket, the bed dips on your friend’s weight as he waits for your response. But you keep your silence, trying your best to even your breathing. You’ve cried enough after all.

“Hmm?” Jungkook stands up. “What’s this? Your diary?”

Abruptly, you fling yourself off the bed and grab your diary from his clutches.

“Go home, Jungkook. I’m not in the mood to deal with this.”

“You know I won’t until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I’m just...” Your shoulders droop in defeat. “Why?”

“Why what?”

You hate crying in front of anyone. But it’s as if a dam broke, your tears do not stop falling while you babble, “Why did he pretend to not know me? Why did he deny? Why—”

Jungkook blinks repeatedly at your sudden change. “W-wait! Why are you crying? I don’t under—”

“Park Jimin!” Your sudden outburst flusters him further. “The guy who you’re friends with and who you recommended for me to work with! That’s who!”

“But—”

“He‘s Mochi.”

Jungkook looks dumbfounded for a moment before your words register inside his head. “M-Mochi?”

Like a petulant child, you climb on your bed once more and hide your diary beneath your pillow. “Leave me alone, Kook.”

With a defeated sigh, Jungkook trudges out of your room, leaving you once again drowning in your thoughts.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Jimin has always loved mornings, especially when he is able to quietly bake on what most people would call ungodly hours. There is something enjoyable about being fully awake during this time when no sounds of passing vehicles can distract him, making him feel at ease.

He had started appreciating the little things in life when you — who once stared up at him with curious eyes, expression lightening up when he made a cup of hot chocolate for you — taught him to.

Chuckling to himself, his mind drifts back to the time you first entered his bakery. Gods, he should have known it was you. But you were so different, he could hardly comprehend how much you had grown.

Gone was your happy-go-lucky self. He was stunned when you suddenly snapped at him. Your younger self would probably respond with a smile and drone on about how much you love cinnamon rolls. For a second, his heart had hoped. Maybe you remembered him after all these years?

Yet that hope dissipated in an instant when you merely apologised and ran out. Moreover, you didn’t return to his bakery after buying the cinnamon rolls, he thought he had screwed things up by attempting to start a conversation with you. Or maybe that person wasn’t really you. Just someone who looks a lot like you. He still had his suspicions after all.

However, his suspicions were gone the moment you introduced yourself, leaving him speechless. Jimin would be lying if he said he didn’t hope — at least for a bit — that you would remember him when he mentioned his name.

That was why the moment you appeared once more to work as a part-timer, he was ecstatic. No words can explain it.

He started to look forward to work every day — coming to his own bakery to see you even when you didn’t remember him, but he would still gladly take whatever he can to be around you.

Once he sets the tray of unbaked cinnamon rolls into the oven, his phone buzzes. As soon as he reads the text, his heart drops a little.

[ 7:08 AM ] You: Sorry, I cant come to work today. Not feeling well.

He types, ‘That’s okay. get well soon, y/n :)’

But it left undelivered. Did your phone die? He wonders.

Jimin can’t help shake the weird feeling bubbling inside. So, he messages Jungkook.

[ 7:15 AM ] Jimin: y/n isn’t feeling well today. do u mind checking up on her ???

But of course, Jungkook didn’t read the message until a few hours later. That boy enjoys gaming all night.

[ 12:03 PM ] Jungkook: what?

[ 12:03 PM ] Jungkook: for real ?? since when does she get sick? that girl has a fucking high immunity. she never even once got a cold during the semester

Jimin furrowed his brows at that.

[ 12:04 PM ] Jimin: still, go check up on her pls. she’s ur friend too

[ 12:04 PM ] Jungkook: yeah, omw

It hasn’t even been an hour later when Jungkook rushes into the bakery — earning surprised and curious glances from the customers who were chattering among themselves. “Hyung—“ he catches his breath as he stands in front of the counter. “I think you need to fix—“ Huff. “—I mean go to Y/N’s house yourself.

Jimin blinks in confusion.

“You... You’re Mochi, aren’t you?”

At the mention of that name, blood drains from Jimin’s face instantly.

She remembers...?

“How did you—”

“What matters is, you need to fix it, hyung. You’re the only one who can. She’s not herself, right now. I've known her for a few years and it takes a lot for her to react like this. So, please, you should talk about it.”

“Okay,” Jimin breathes out. “Do you mind closing the cafe once the customers are all done?”

Jungkook nods. “Yeah, just go to her, hyung. I’ll handle everything here.”

[ when you were fifteen: before the accident ]

“I wish you can teach me math all the time, Mochi,” you giggle, leaning back on the cafe chair. “Everything is easier when you explain it.”

Jimin chuckles at that. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one not paying attention in class.”

Shaking your head rapidly, you deny, “Of course I paid attention! It’s just... I don’t know… It was really boring when my teacher was teaching. He just drones on and on without stopping.”

With an amused hum, Jimin stands up. “I’ll get ready to leave. I’ll walk you home.”

After a few minutes, you head out of the cafe with Jimin behind you. Shivering against the cool night air, you draw closer to the boy. Instinctively, Jimin offers you his open hand which you accepted with no hesitance.

Little did he know, every time he does this, it makes your heart beat a little faster at the way your hand fits well in his. And you savour it.

The build up of feelings has been going on for a while now. Maybe a few months. You’ve developed a crush on him. Like, how can you not? Jimin possesses charming qualities that no one else has. Not to mention how kind and warm of a person he is.

Meetings in the cafe had you wishing they were dates instead. And you had to let him know.

And tell him you did.

He blinks at first, words sinking into him. Mochi, I think I like you. Like, really, really like you.

His cheeks are pink, you weren’t sure if it's from the cold or his embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.”

Of course. What were you expecting? He only sees you as a little sister.

“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, but your heart drops. “It’s just… You know, I wanted to tell you know because you’re really cool, Mochi.”

“Y/N… Listen, this is not a good time—” Abruptly, he stops, catching your wrist on his. “I want you to hide in the playground.”

“What?”

“Hide, please. I will explain everything later.”

You want to run away from him. But the pleading look on his face makes you listen.

“There he is!” You hear an unfamiliar shout.

Cursing under his breath, Jimin quickly pushes you under the slide. “Wait here.”

With your own ragged breathing, you struggle to keep yourself as quiet as possible, biting down a hiss from the sting of your scraped knees. Tears pool in your eyes as you wait, hidden behind one of the playground’s slides and out of sight of any possible passerby.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

[ Present time ]

Jimin reaches your house, his heart beating fast against his chest with a box of cinnamon rolls in hand.

You are home alone and Jungkook has left the door unlocked.

Letting himself in, Jimin glances around. Everything still looks the same as back then. He went to your house once to tutor you. And he still can remember that day clearly.

Climbing up the stairs, he reaches your room. With shaking hands, he knocks on the door.

Silence.

A moment or two passes then your door opens. Jimin braces for the anger you’d throw at him.

But nothing comes.

You merely stand there, eyes glassy as they lock on his.

“Y/N...” He mutters, torn between to reach out or not. But you leave the door open as you sit on your bed. Jimin enters your familiar room, still surprised at how it still looks the same. And his eyes fall on a notebook — the notebook you never let him read — on the table.

“Why are you here?” you ask, voice trembling.

“I wanted to check up on you—”

“Why?”

Jimin knows at once what you are asking.

He approaches you sitting on the edge of the bed. He kneels down, peering up with those chocolate eyes of his to meet your downcast stare — like those times when he wants to talk to you and you refuse to look at him.

“Do… Do you still remember me?” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper.

“Y/N…” The lack of surprise in his voice answers it. He still remembers you as you recall the once shocked expression on his face when you first introduce yourself. Now, it all made sense.

“W-Why didn’t you tell me?” A sob escapes your lips. “Do you not want me to remember—”

He shakes his head, denying it quickly. “No! Of course not. I just… I was ecstatic actually when it was you who came to work for me.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” Voice cracking. “You knew me—”

Clearly in conflict, he sighs, “I don’t want you to remember your traumatic memories… Remembering me might cause you more pain.”

“But it didn’t. Those memories, from what I can remember there’s nothing—”

“That’s what your parents told me, Y/N.”

Eyes widening, you gape at him as tears cascade down your face.

“You were seriously injured back then. The doctor said it will be best for you to let your own memories come to you in their own time. And I had to leave this place... I came by after your operation and... I wanted to say goodbye but I was told it was best to not see you any longer to prevent anymore distress—”

“But you are important to me!” You cut him off. Then turning quieter, “You are important to me…”  You say between sobs.

Covering your eyes with your hand, you whimper when Jimin engulfs you in a hug. “I’m sorry…” He murmurs, caressing your head. “I’m so sorry…”

His heart breaks at your current state, tightening his hold on you, who’s crying into his chest. Years of buried regret and longing resurface. He had envisioned many times on how you would remember him. But he fails to realise how much it can hurt you when your memories return. If only he can turn back time, he will take that chance to save you from the misery of your memory loss.

Yet, all he can do now is to hold you close, begging you for forgiveness and hope that you’d let him stay by your side.

“So, let me get this straight, you—” Jungkook points his straw at you. “—and Jimin hyung were childhood friends—” He pierces the plastic cover of his milk tea. “—and he used to tutor you in a cafe.”

Nodding, you purse your lips and enjoy your own drink.

You had taken a few days off after the reconciliation to collect your thoughts and confront your parents about what had happened. They have come into terms with their protectiveness of you staying out very late. And you have managed to convince them to let you stay out late as long as you let them know.

You were planning to stay in bed all day if it wasn’t for Jungkook who barged into your room like he owns the place, after he claimed that Jimin lets him off from work early — which you doubt honestly, it’s more of Jungkook escaping from work — and decided to drag you to the nearest milk tea shop.

“Is something weird?” you blurt out.

“Did you by any chance, I don’t know...” Jungkook mutters. “Have feelings for each other?”

You nearly choke on your tapioca pearl and rapidly you shake your head. “No! That’s—”

Jungkook narrows his stare at you, sipping his drink as you continue to blabber, “I mean, I knew him since I was like, what? Twelve? He never sees me that way.”

“Maybe he didn’t back then.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean both of you are adults now. Aren’t things different?”

You snort at his words. “He always sees the little girl in me, Jungkook. So, please, don’t make things weird, alright? I can literally see your head gearing.”

Jungkook lets out a sigh. “Alright, if you say so. But how about you?”

Sipping your drink, you lift a brow at him.

“Do you like him?”

“Of course, I do.”

“I meant like, like him.”

“Kookie, what are you? Five?”

He snorts at your response. “Five heads taller than you—” Your glare shuts him up. “Okay, but do you see him as someone special?”

An exasperated sigh escapes your lips. “Why are we discussing this? We’re just friends. Who coincidentally are childhood friends as well.”

“You sure?”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sigh once more. “What are you expecting me to say?”

“What do you think of him?”

Almost at once, the words flow easily out of your mouth. “He’s a caring person and he knows how to comfort someone when they’re having a bad day.”

“You mean, he knows how to comfort you when you’re having a bad day yourself,” Jungkook chuckles.

You blink at that.

“Look, I’m not implying anything but he was worried as hell when I told him about you the other day. Even nearly left his bakery without supervision. That’s when yours truly—” He points at himself. “—came in.”

And the question that swims in the back of your mind disappears. “So, it is you, you overgrown rabbit. You told him about me—”

“Well, you can’t blame me. You should be thanking me instead. It’s because of me you both finally reconciled. Admit it, you’re happy — happier, in fact.”

And you can’t deny it. Jungkook has been one of those people who’d look out for you. Yes, even when he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, or just loves to hear the “piping hot” tea of what’s happening in your life.

Sighing in defeat, you murmur, “Even if I do like him...” You shake your head. “No, it shouldn’t even matter in the first place.”

Noticing your shuttering expression, Jungkook thankfully does not press the subject further. Nor does he question why. And you are grateful for him.

“Interesting. So, you do like him.”

Scratch that, your best friend is still a pain in the ass.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Standing in front of the bakery cafe, you released a deep breath.

Through the glass door, Jungkook is helping out at the cashier counter, serving beverages and desserts to dine-in customers. However, Jimin is nowhere in sight.

Releasing a deep breath, the bell of the door rings which signals your entrance. Jungkook notices you at once before he points to the kitchen.

You rush inside — stopping abruptly a few steps away from him — now, regarding the man differently. He was the boy who has been your comfort for so many occasions after all.

Jimin is icing cupcakes, his eyes focusing on his task and you can’t help but smile at the sight.

With your memories — of kindness, warmth, and friendship — now fully returned, you remember how you were always enamoured watching Jimin work. You’d watch him make drinks in the cafe when you had no homework to do. You’d sit at the bar, munching on cookies-of-the-day as your eyes followed Jimin’s movements.

A few moments pass, Jimin’s gaze shifts to you briefly and double-takes. He curses under his breath, cupcake slipping from his grip — icing spilling on the marble counter. “Hey, you’re back—” He quickly grabs a cloth and wipes off the cream before he turns to face you properly, grinning from ear-to-ear. “—you didn’t tell me you’re coming in today.”

He opens his arms and your legs move of its own accord, following your instinct as you close the distance between you and him — wrapping your arms around his waist.

You weren’t surprised at how your younger self used to have a big fat crush on him. He was and always will still be your Mochi. The guy who treated you to your favourite sweets, who knows how you like your caramel macchiato the best, and who never fails to put butterflies in your stomach.

Breathing his sweet scent, you remember the time you’d ask him for hugs whenever you were down and your younger self had even claimed once that his hugs were magical as it was written in your diary. To quote it, “Mochi gives the BEST BEST hugs in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD”.

“Your hugs…” you mumble, eyes closed. “They’re still the best…”

Jimin merely tightens his hold on you. That is until a force — appearing in the form of Jeon Jungkook — shatters the serene atmosphere, bringing you back to reality. “Hyung! Oh—”

Abruptly, you both pull away from each other. Jungkook stands awkwardly, shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“What is it?” Jimin breaks the silence, composed as ever.

“Uh, need more cupcakes. The ones on the display are finished…”

“Right,” Jimin turns to you. “Y/N, can you help me ice the rest of the cupcakes?”

Nodding, you turn to the employee’s room, putting your things in the locker and grabbing an apron.

Hugging Jimin seems so natural that you fail to consider how weird it looks to the people around you. Jungkook’s awkward silence proves that.

Your thoughts are swimming in confusion. And once again those butterflies appear in your stomach. Fanning your heated cheeks with your hands, you take a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

Your childhood crush is gone. You’re just happy to have Mochi back in your life. That’s all. That should be all.

One afternoon, you mindlessly clean up the kitchen. Due to the public holiday, the bakery is closing earlier, and your thoughts have drifted back to the past.

You remember the night of the incident when Jimin walked you home after he had lost those men who chased after him. He stopped you for a moment, breaking the silence. “You okay?” Warm concern lacing his tone.

Jaw clenching, you mumbled. “Just a scratch.” Reluctant to give him any longer response.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have shoved you harshly before.” He crouched, inspecting your knees before he peered up to meet your stare.

“It’s fine.”

When you were just a few blocks away from home, Jimin broke the silence. “Listen Y/N—” His footsteps faltered as he reached to touch your shoulder. “—about earlier, I think you shouldn’t have feelings for me, I—”

Abruptly, you pulled your hand away from his, hurt consuming you. “I shouldn’t have feelings for you?”

You wished Jimin had forgotten your spontaneous confession as he nodded, hesitantly.

“Well, I can’t control my feelings. So, just let it be. It’ll be fine.” You glanced at him before walking faster.

The rest of the trip home was tense, full of unanswered questions. Who were those men? Why did they chase after Jimin? Is it really that bad to have feelings for him? Who gave him the right to dictate your feelings?

You felt so childish back then. Recalling the memories makes you cringe at your younger self for overreacting. But you suppose it’s normal for a fifteen year-old girl. And you were able to sense that Jimin wanted to ease the tense atmosphere. But you were too hurt to even give him a chance. You needed time to process what happened that day.

However, one minute Jimin had stopped you again, desperate to appease you. And the next minute, someone ran towards him with a bat in hand. It’s as if time slowed down, you moved before a harsh impact landed on you.

Your mind brings you back to reality, and instinctively you touch the part where your head was struck with your free hand.

“Y/N? Are you done cleaning up?”

Jimin’s voice startles you and you nearly drop the mop’s handle from your grasp.

“Yes,” you manage to say. And somehow you can’t look at him in the eye.

“What’s wrong?” Out of instinct, he cups your face to look at you in the eye. And hell, your heartbeat gradually increases as you can smell the sweet scent of bread from him along with a tinge of his cinnamon scent.

Mind blanking out at the close proximity, the only intelligible response you can say is, uhhh. Your grip on the mop handle tightens as your palm grows clammy.

He’s gorgeous. That’s one thing for sure.

“Hey, why are you blushing?”

Blinking rapidly, you watch his eyes turn into those crescent moons and a giggle escapes his lips as he pulls away, grabbing the mop from your hold.

“I’ll put this back. You nearly snapped it in half, you know.”

“Yeah,” you nod, mind whirling and you blabber the first thing in your mind. “I have a pet fish.”

“Huh?”

Realising how random you sounded, you clear your throat. “I just remember I had to come home early today, since Mr. Goldy is waiting for me.”

“Ooh, that’s—”

But you’ve run for the lockers, quickly changing out of your work attire.

“Thanks for today, Mochi. See you tomorrow!” You say and run out of the bakery without sparing him another glance.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“What are you exactly doing here?”

Unflinching, you answer your best friend monotonously, “Buying a fish.”

“You don’t have a tank at home.”

“Exactly, that’s why I’m looking for one now.”

“But why?”

“Why not?”

Jungkook lets out a sigh. “You’ve been acting weird all week, Y/N.”

You ignore his words, eyes scanning through the fishes of different colours and kinds.

“Oh! These ones are pretty.” Jungkook comments, earning your attention.

“Excuse me?” You call one of the workers there. “I was wondering if this fish is suitable for beginners.”

The worker nods, smiling. “Yes, these are what we call the Betta fish. Their scales are beautiful and they are also easy to take care of. Would you like to purchase them?”

You respond with a brief ‘yes’.

“Now, all you need is a tank,” Jungkook says.

“We provide delivery services for the tank. I’d recommend buying this one.” The worker points at one of the tanks. “In the meantime, you can purchase the fishbowl for now.”

And with that you have a new pet fish and a brand new fish bowl in hand — specifically Jungkook’s, because you gotta put those muscles into good use — and you head back home. On the way back, Jungkook suddenly clears his throat. “So… What’s up with you?”

“What?”

“Let me summarise what just happened,” he says. “I had the day off today, and suddenly you called me to meet you in a fish store, and you have been acting all weird and somehow out of all the nice shades of blue fishes in the tank, you chose the ugly yellow—”

You kick his shin in retaliation. “It’s not yellow, it’s gold, dumbass. How dare you say that in front of Lady Goldilocks.”

“Oh, wow, now it even has a name.” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I seriously can’t believe you chose this one out of all the other colours. It reminds me of Jimin hyung—” And he gapes at you. “No way. Is it because he likes this colour?”

You blink in realisation. Jimin does like this colour.

“Okay, ‘fess up. What’s up with you?”

You let out a defeated sigh. “I like him.”

Jungkook looks unamused.

“I mean like, like him. And I need to get over him.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Why would Hyung want that?””

“I shouldn’t like him, Kook. He told me once and, I don’t know, I just can’t control my feelings. I don’t want to lose him again and I’m scared that he’ll be gone if he knows—”

“Wait, wait, wait—” Jungkook grasps your shoulder with his free hand. “—I can understand what you’re feeling, Y/N. How about let me prove to you that Jimin won’t be gone even when you have feelings for him?”

“I swear, Jeon Jungkook, if you utter a single word about this conversation—”

“No!” He denies repeatedly. “I won’t. Promise. I can prove it to you another way. Don’t worry.”

“Okay, then. How?”

“I have a plan. To take the title as your number one best friend once and for all—”

“Who says you are even at the top?”

“Aren’t I? You told me once.” Jungkook fishes his phone out of his jacket, taps a few times on his screen before he shows you a video of your drunk self a few months ago after exam week.

“Kookieee, I think you’re my number one best friend! So proud to have someone like you in my life—”

You try to reach for his phone, cheeks burning in embarrassment, as you shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster. However, Jungkook being Jungkook merely cackles at that. Your voice from the video still continues, “—you’re like Mochi—” Your present self tenses at that.

“Who’s Mochi?” Jungkook asked curiously in the video.

“Shhhhh… We don’t speak of that name here, m’kay? Mochi is gone. So you are best friend number one!”

Jungkook stops the video, tucking his phone back to his pocket. “I asked you once who Mochi was when you were sober. But you didn’t remember back then. So I never asked again until you mentioned the name ‘Mochi’ once more a few days ago.”

Gaping, you stop walking as the stunned silence falls over you.

“I think your subconscious had always known about him. And it shows how special he is to you.” When you’re about to deny that, Jungkook shushes you. “Don’t try to deny, Y/N. Even before you knew he was Mochi you already liked him.”

“I hate that you’re starting to look like a rooster. Were you always this cocky?”

Your best friend merely shrugs. “So, here’s the plan. As I was saying, with my ‘number one best friend’ title under threat, we’re going to demote Jimin as your boyfriend! It’s a win-win situation!”

“What? I never even asked for him to be my boyfriend but wait— Don’t you mean promote?”

“Y/N, as much as I love your dumb ass, you tend to be quite demanding with people. Hopefully, he knows how to handle your present self.”

“Jeon Jungkook, please don’t make me regret this.”

A few days after the conversation with Jungkook, the boy gets to work as fast as possible, and by work, it means work to get on Jimin’s nerves instead of actually being helpful in the cafe.

Jungkook has become noticeably clingy, or overall, just more touchy with you. It’s not like it’s anything new in all honesty. Throughout college, the relationship between the both of you is purely platonic. Your other college friends knew this and seeing the both of you cuddle wouldn’t be a strange sight. Jimin, however, isn’t one of your college friends and Jungkook seems to have taken advantage of this. Thus, he begins to work in the bakery almost every day, claiming just to see you.

At first Jimin showed no reaction since Jungkook is a good friend of his. But he has grown visibly irritated lately while Jungkook revels in pressing the older one’s buttons further.

“Jungkook…”

“Hmm?”

“Can you please stop invading my personal space?”

“But it’s not going to work if I don’t— Oof!” You shove him away before going back to your task — placing the cupcakes on the display tray — annoyance building up at Jungkook’s disruptions.

“I’m going to file a restraining order on you at this rate.”

He huffs, moving towards you once more. “Don’t you want to prove that Jimin is going to be pissed if he sees me being affectionate to you?”

You shake your head. “I just want to work in peace.”

“Hmph. You’re no fun.”

“Cuz you’re the one not working.”

“Hey, I’m helping here voluntarily.”

You ignore his words, focusing on your task while Jungkook starts whining for you to give him attention. “Kook, I fucking swear if you don’t get your hands off—”

Jimin’s voice rings “Y/N, are the cupcakes...” He trails as soon as he enters the kitchen, freezing at the sight of Jungkook wrapping his arms around your waist, snuggling his dumb head on the crook of your neck.

“He’s going to rage,” Jungkook whispers, laughing softly.

“Uh, Jungkook can I talk to you?” Jimin asks, eyes noticeably narrowing as his tone tenses.

“Finally,” Jungkook mutters under his breath, before he lets go of you and faces Jimin. “Sure, Hyung.”

You take that cue to leave, bringing the freshly iced cupcakes to the display counter, leaving Jungkook and Jimin alone in the kitchen.

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

“What’s been going on with you lately? You come here to work everyday but all I can see is you busy flirting with Y/N.” Jimin throws the younger one an unamused glare.

Jungkook answers easily, “I do my job, Hyung. And so what if I do flirt with Y/N?”

“You can’t,” Jimin blurts out, earning a questioning look from Jungkook. “You just can’t.”

“Why can’t I?”

“Do you like Y/N?”

“Of course, she’s my best friend.”

Jimin shoots Jungkook another unamused look at his answer.

“I’m going to tell her how I feel in three days,” Jungkook continues.

Jimin’s stomach drops at that statement. However, at the same time the urge to let you know how he truly feels increases. But the thought of the impending rejection after hurting you and causing your memory loss makes him think twice.

Maybe Jungkook deserves you more than him — he can protect and support you while Jimin has failed.

With a shaky breath, Jimin mutters, “Take care of her, alright?”

Obviously, his response catches Jungkook off guard. “What?”

“Take good care of Y/N, JK. I’m seriously counting on you.”

“Wait—“ Jungkook looks downright flustered at the unexpected response. “Hyung, wait.”

“What?” Now it’s Jimin’s turn to be confused.

Jungkook clears his throat. “Just give me an honest answer, hyung. No lies.”

A pause.

“Do you like Y/N? As in more than friends?”

Jimin nods without hesitance.

Jungkook mumbles something under his breath that Jimin is sure it sounds like, freaking idiots.

“Go tell her how you feel, Hyung. And tell her as soon as possible.”

“But you—”

“It’s to push you to confess to her. I don’t see Y/N that way.” Jungkook sighs. “Honestly, what would the both of you be without me?”

Jimin stands in the kitchen, speechless, as Jungkook continues to ramble how significant his role is in between your relationship and how you and Jimin owe him so much.

“So, yes, go tell her how you feel, hyung. She’ll listen to whatever you’ll say.”

With a newfound resolve, hope sparks in Jimin’s heart. “I will.”

To say that Jimin is nervous would be an understatement. He had barely slept a wink last night, thinking of all the words and how he would explain why he had left so suddenly and confess his feelings to you. Jungkook has been a supportive friend, even if he does push Jimin’s buttons along the way. However, Jimin knows that it was his own way of showing encouragement.

You are cleaning the rest of the tables of the cafe and Jimin can’t take his eyes off you, staring at you through the small window opening between the kitchen and the counter area.

“Are we done for today, Mochi?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydream.

“Yeah!” Jimin continues to wipe the kitchen counter quickly, replying almost too enthusiastically before he clears his throat. “Do you have plans tonight, Y/N?”

You enter the kitchen and once again Jimin’s heartbeat rises. “Nope. I’m going straight back home after this. Lady Goldilocks is waiting for me.”

Lady Goldilocks. Jimin chuckles at the mention of your fish’s name. He wonders if one day he’s able to see the pet fish for himself. He had asked what happened to Mr Goldy and you had become flustered at that since you didn’t know the fish was female. So, now, you have changed the fish’s name. Yet, somehow Jimin got an inkling that there is more to the story. He had asked Jungkook — to which the boy had valiantly refused to utter a word about it and had babbled, “Huh? Fish? What fish? Is that for dinner?”

Once the both of you finished closing up the bakery cafe, Jimin taps on your shoulder before you had the chance to go back home.

“May I walk you home?”

You blink, processing his words then nodding rapidly. “S-Sure.”

Jimin smiles warmly at you. It’s easy in fact. Just being in your presence always brings happiness into his heart. You had grown into an amazing person and even more attractive.

Something about you had always captivated Jimin since the first time you met him in the cafe where he used to do his part time work. Your curious eyes were always following him as he took the customers’ orders and honestly, it was very endearing.

Comfortable silence falls upon you both, walking through the asphalt pathway and naturally, Jimin opens his palms, extending it towards you.

You stare at that for a moment and clasp his hand with yours. Jimin weaves your fingers together, bringing you closer to him as you continue to walk back home.

“Do you mind if we take a little detour?”

You nod at his words.

Once Jimin reaches the destination, he can sense your eyes glance curiously at the empty hill. He pulls you up onto the top of the hill, sitting down on the grass while he pats the space next to him and you follow suit.

“Look up,” Jimin whispers, and you did.

A quiet gasp escapes your lips at the sight of twinkling stars that scatters across the dark sky.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Jimin voices out. “Someone made me realise how beautiful the stars are…” He falters. “A-And she had never left my mind all those years. One of my deepest regrets is that I wasn’t able to say goodbye when I had to leave.”

You hear his words, yet you stay silent — an encouragement for him to continue to speak what’s on his mind.

“My family was in a difficult financial position back then and my dad had done things I wasn’t proud of…” Jimin’s eyes turn glassy and faraway, even when he sets his gaze up. “And one of them is that he had made a deal with loan sharks without the guarantee of paying them back… And of course, they were angry.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath.

“I once thought that probably I could still stay here back then. Even more so when I met you. But I was wrong. Those men started to chase after me and because of that, you—” He shudders. “—got injured. And that night my parents had made plans to leave without me and my brother knowing.”

He turns to look at you. “I never got to apologise to you for causing that. I should be the one to protect you but… I failed. For that, I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“Jimin…” You say softly. “It’s not your fault. I was the one who jumped in front of you when the man came after you. It’s my own choice because you are special to me.”

“But I could have—”

You shush him with a pointer finger in front of his lips for a few moments. “You don’t have to be sorry anymore, Mochi. It’s not your fault. And what matters now is to focus on the present and look to the future, right?”

He nods, emotions swimming inside his chocolate eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought—”

“For telling you that you shouldn’t have feelings for me.”

And you lapse into silence. He remembers…?

“I hate that that has hurt you. I shouldn’t have said that. But I was happy but desperate too since my family—”

“Jimin.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“What do you see me as, now?”

He blinks. All the practiced words on how he would tell you his feelings dissipate from his mind as he blankly stares at you. “I… I like you.” His voice grows quieter. “More than friends…”

“And if I said you shouldn’t have feelings for me?”

A flash of hurt crosses his eyes briefly. But he answers, nonetheless, “I would do what you want.”

“So, you reciprocate my feelings now?”

“H-huh?”

“I like you too. More than friends. In fact, I think my feelings have grown for you ever since I found out you’re Mochi.”

It takes a few moments for Jimin to process your words. He gapes, mouth opening and closing.

“You are resembling Lady Goldilocks right now.”

“What?”

Your cheeks flush. “Lady Goldilocks is a Betta fish. She was the golden one in a tank full of her blue siblings. Jungkook tried persuading me to choose the blue ones since they were more attractive to look at. But all I could see is the gold one since it reminded me of you.”

“I like golden colours…” Jimin mumbles in realisation.

“Exactly,” you let out a sheepish laugh, eyes turning to look back up into the sky. Before Jimin can respond, your eyes brighten up. “Look! A shooting star!”

Jimin snaps his gaze up as well.

“Hurry, make a wish!” You then close your eyes, smiling from ear-to-ear. Jimin follows suit, making his own wish.

As soon as you both finish making your wishes, you turn to face him once more.

“Are you still sorry for saying that to me?”

Jimin nods, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. Hell, he thinks he would always regret hurting you that time.

“I know how you can make it up to me then.”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

“W-What?” He splutters.

“Unless you don’t want—“ Yet, your words die on your throat as Jimin moves closer to you, eliminating the distance between you both as he cups your face just like that time in the bakery.

Without another word, he leans down, pressing his lips on yours softly while you place your hands on top of his before he presses further, brows furrowing as he kisses you fervently. For the time being, all that matters is just you and him. He caresses your cheeks and you run your hands down to wrap around his waist until you can feel his heart beating against his chest.

After pulling away — both of you catching your breaths — Jimin presses his forehead against yours, running his thumb over your lips while you were unable to open your eyes for a few moments at the burst of emotions that is coursing through you.

“I’ve imagined this moment so many times,” he admits. “My wish finally came true.” And you smile at that.

“My wish also came true because of you, Mochi...”

✧༺♡༻∞　　∞༺♡༻✧

Sitting on one of the tables, your eyes can’t take themselves off Jimin as he serves customers. Today is your day off and you decided to pay him a visit in the bakery.

“You’re drooling.”

Your gaze snaps up to your best friend who sits across you after placing a cinnamon roll on the table for you. Jungkook continues, “I swear I’m going to vomit one of these days if I see you or Jimin hyung throwing each other— what was that called? It’s an old term— Oh! Goo-goo eyes one more time.”

“Shut up, Jeon. I’m not.” You reach for the roll, taking a bite.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah right, you basically either stare at him like he placed stars in the sky or like you want to tear off his clothes—”

You choke on the roll, quickly reaching for your glass of water before you throw your napkin at his face. Jungkook cackles at that before he resumes his act, sighing. “This is a mistake. I shouldn’t have intervened. I didn’t know you’d be like this. My best friend is so uncool now.”

“Y/N is what?” You perk up at Jimin’s voice.

“Whipped,” Jungkook mutters before he takes his cue to leave. He stands up, passing by Jimin after shooting the older one a teasing glance.

Jimin sits across from you, and he instinctively reaches for your hand on the table. “How was your day?” And you swear you can hear Jungkook making a gagging sound amidst the chatter of the customers.

“Good. I finished my chores at home earlier today. So, I thought I would come visit.”

Minutes pass by quickly as you chatter with Jimin. He had almost forgotten to go back to work until Jungkook reminded him. When it is time to close up the bakery, you watch him wash the remaining mixing bowls while perching on one of the cleaned counters of the kitchen.

“You know, I could use some help,” Jimin teases, drying his hands on his apron.

A smile curls up on the corner of your lips, eyes following his movements — drawing closer to where you are. “Well, I think you got it all handled, Mochi.”

Once he reaches you, he pulls you to wrap your legs around his waist while your arms rest on his shoulders — encircling around his neck. You both stare at each other and he pushes a strand of stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind an ear while his other hand settles on your waist.

“Sometimes, I still can’t believe that you’re really here with me,” You admit. “Just like a sweet dream.”

Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not, Y/N...” He leans to give you a chaste kiss. “... we’ll make up for the lost time we didn’t spend together.”

“Promise?”

He softly smiles at you. “Promise.”

author’s note: this was originally intended to be posted on jimin’s birthday but well i decided to add more stuff in it. thus, i am late alskflsdda so yes, i hope you guys enjoy this fic and feedbacks are always appreciated !! thank you for reading ♡