#literally as Im already in bed and barely awake anymore

[londonspirit]

Merry freaking Christmas to us all!!!

David Jenkins over on Bluesky

[tokyo-class-of-09]

yk what idc anymore fuck it can u write a emijeckole fic please 😔🙏

u can do what u want w it but as much as im a freak i do love fluff like ye.

Aged up + morning routine and i will fold pls 🙏

SUNLIGHT & SIN

(aged-up emily x jecka x nicole – fluff, f!reader implied)

tw: light language, suggestive, but no nsfw. vibes: soft, domestic, and a lil toxic

Nicole’s the first one up. She always is.

She doesn’t sleep in—she can’t sleep in. She stretches in the huge-ass bed the three of you share, pushing off the sheets and glancing back to admire the chaos she calls “her girls.” Jecka’s drooling into a pillow, hair a wreck. Emily’s starfished across the mattress, one leg draped dramatically over Jecka’s back, like she just barely survived a night of clubbing and combat.

Nicole smirks. “Idiots.”

She’s halfway through her morning skincare when she hears Jecka groan from the other room.

“Nicoooole,” Jecka’s voice is sleepy, bratty. “Bring me water. My throat’s dry. I had a dream I was a cactus.”

Nicole doesn’t answer. She just walks in with a cold glass and kisses Jecka’s forehead, setting it on the nightstand. Jecka hums contentedly and falls right back into the blankets like a spoiled cat.

Emily, however, is suddenly wide awake.

“Nicole,” she mumbles, eyes still shut. “If you leave this bed, I will literally kill everyone you love.”

“I am everyone I love,” Nicole replies dryly.

“Exactly.”

But Nicole softens. She sits on the edge of the bed, brushing Emily’s bangs out of her eyes. Emily grabs her wrist and pulls her into a long, lazy kiss. Nicole lets it happen, even melts into it a little—until Jecka yanks a pillow and hits them both in the face.

“Gross,” she huffs. “At least let me brush my teeth first.”

“Jecka, you never brush your teeth first.”

Jecka scowls. “I do now. I’m mature. I’m different.”

Nicole and Emily exchange a look. Nicole snorts. “You’re hungover.”

Emily grins, already crawling up behind Jecka and burying her face in her neck. “You’re still hot, though.”

“I know I’m hot,” Jecka says, a little pouty, even as she melts from the affection. “But where’s my cuddle, huh? I get my cuddles too.”

And that’s the morning: three girls tangled in sheets, trading kisses and insults, making a slow mess of the kitchen. Nicole bosses everyone around while Jecka puts glitter in her coffee “just to see what happens,” and Emily pulls her hoodie over her boxers and threatens to light the stove on fire if nobody lets her make pancakes.

It’s soft. It’s stupid. It’s imperfect.

But it’s love. And that’s enough.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of both worlds (part 7)

Tw: vomiting, sick reader, implications that the housemates r jerks before, imo boring chapter just some comfort for sickness times

Vote the poll down below n im gonna start making the next part after 20 votes

part 8

You can barely get out of bed.

That means you didn't get to clean up your post-exam clutter. Making the entire room miserable and almost unhabitable. You couldn't sleep because you had a terrible fever, needing to eat a couple of paracetamols to cool yourself down.

Anything that goes in your mouth comes back up. You wouldn't want to waste your food anymore, so you simply stopped eating.

You woke up to loud knocking, borderline banging on your door and to the voice of your housemate. She's yelling about someone being here to see you.

That can't be right. Why would anyone want to visit you? You're not asking this in a self depreciating way, but in a logical sense where you knew no one knew you're suffering from food poisoning.

Except...

Realization dawns upon you when you hear a series of softer knocks. You heard Yves's muffled voice from the outside, asking you to open the door for him.

You checked your phone. It's four in the afternoon. He should still be at the library, why is he here?

Then your focus went to the notification banner about the four missed calls he left.

"(Name)? It's Yves. You haven't been answering my calls. I'm worried about you."

The last person you want to see now is goddamn fucking Yves. Yesterday already took a toll on you, having him over is going to worsen the illness- if the fever didn't fry your brain, the stress would.

You refused to answer, covering your head with your pillow as he continued to knock.

Eventually though, he stopped. The walls are thin so you could hear him ask your housemate about you. She said you were hurling all night, keeping everyone awake. They witnessed you trying to eat a cooked packet of instant noodles, but you immediately threw it all up the moment you swallowed a forkful.

"I see." You hear him reply. "May I see the kitchen?" He asked.

She was taken aback by the request, a kitchen shared by 7 other students isn't going to be the cleanest. There was a pause before she told him that it was messy.

"That does not matter." He responded. You heard a sigh and she verbally told him to go ahead.

You're sure he knows what the condition of it is. He was there yesterday for the trash bags. You wonder what business he has there.

When you hear him walk away from your bedroom door, you force yourself and your aching muscles to creep out of your room. Planning to eavesdrop on his conversation.

"Is this all they eat?" His voice echoed through the hallway.

"Yes. I literally have never seen them eat anything else. Maybe the occasional cold pizza slice or two, but that's it. I don't think they even own a frying pan. Sometimes I wonder how that bastard is still alive." Ouch. A simple Yes would suffice. Why did she have to air your dirty laundry like that?

You heard the fridge open.

"Yeah, this was supposed to be their side of the fridge, but it was always empty. So we used it as a spare." Yves hummed in response.

You rushed back into your room when you heard his heels begin to strike the floor. Quietly shutting the door and tucking yourself into your bed.

Perhaps he's giving up, you're not coming out of your-

You stared wide eyed as the knob twisted by itself.

You forgot to lock your door. Shit, you fucking forgot to lock your door.

You heard one last set of calm knocking and Yves voice: "(name), I'm coming in."

He pushed it open and you see his tall, slender frame coming into view. His hair is flowy and luscious as usual, clear skin and pristine makeup on his beautiful face. While you look like crap. And your room looks like crap, you can barely see the floor.

You gape at the square of translucent hydrocolloid dressing on the back of his hand. Looks like his burn yesterday started to blister.

"Damn! You live like this?" Your housemate expressed her disbelief when her eyes landed on the clothes, indiscernible between used and washed, strewn all over the place. The opened drawers and stacks of empty cups.

You hid under your blanket, you told her to shut up and get the fuck out of your room.

"Alright, you're a grump cause you're sick. But just so you know, you're still on garbage duty this week." She responded.

You groan, telling her that you knew that already. You told her to go away. But she doesn't respect you, none of your housemates do.

"Could you excuse us, please?" Yves politely dismissed her. She agrees and leaves your room immediately. Yves closes the door to maintain some privacy.

You remained hidden under the sheets, not wanting him to see you so vulnerable.

"You poor thing." He sighed. You felt the bed dip as he sat on the edge. He gently peeled the blanket off your head, using the other hand to stroke your hair.

"You haven't eaten today, have you?" The fingers running through your grimy hair was... comforting. Too comforting, perhaps. You involuntarily started tearing up and crying, being reminded of a simpler time in your life. It brought back the feelings of security and safety, which you haven't felt in such a long while. You forgot how it felt, and it felt extremely good.

He stopped his caresses, but rested his hand on your scalp.

You told him you didn't mean to weep. You had no idea what has gotten into you. However, you're sure you're crying because of the state of your room and how two people had to see it- which includes someone with opinions you value very much: Yves.

He continued his affectionate touches as tears kept falling from your eyes.

No further words were exchanged between the two of you. Yves kept you company until you fell asleep from his rhythmic stroking. He pressed a kiss on your forehead before standing back up.

Yves sets his bag on your bed, he gets to work picking up stray articles of clothing from the floor. He dropped them all into your laundry basket in a messy pile.

Yves picked it up with no effort and carried it on his hip. He left your room and headed towards the basement, where the dryers and washing machines are kept. He knows where it is despite no one ever telling him.

--

You woke up with a jolt, thinking that Yves intruding your room was just a crazy fever dream.

Except, the presence of his unique luxury bag is right next to you. Scanning your surroundings, you definitely can tell Yves made his mark here.

You can see the floor again, you didn't know that it's that shiny and clean. All your clothes are missing and the corners are clear of any old trash. Everything you own is organized neatly, the shelves are displaying their respective categories in order. Your desk was wiped down and your textbooks arranged by colour.

Your room is unrecognizable, it wasn't even this nice when you first moved in.

Yves is nowhere to be found. You weakly got up and dragged yourself to the door. Locking yourself in and Yves out.

You always wondered what is in that bag. It seems to be carrying an impossible amount of items. Though, he uses a briefcase for his laptop and notes on weekdays, it's impressive that he managed to fit an umbrella in this small bag among other things.

You opened it and began rummaging through.

A lipstick, a compact mirror, disposable wet wipes, a hydrating facial spray, dry facial tissues, a hairbrush, his phone, a tin of breath mints, his oddly thin wallet- it made sense, the rich wouldn't carry around wads of cash. Only cards; An army Swiss knife, bandaids, a rectangle of a foldable grocery bag...

A set of keys attached to his car fob, a pen, some unidentifiable medication; it's printed in a foreign language, a case containing his reading glasses, another case that contains his sunglasses, portable eating utensils, a bottle of hand sanitizer, disinfectant spray, a power bank, charging cables, a portable fan, a hand fan, electronic ear buds, ear plugs...

Your jaw dropped in disbelief as you kept finding more things; perfume, a scrunchie, a couple of hair ties, sun screen, ointment, his reusable stainless steel thermal cup, lip balm, a face mask, portable paper soap, a stack of sticky notes and of course, an umbrella.

You dug deeper and found out that he's also hiding a scarf in there!

All that with heaps of space to spare, it doesn't look bulky from outside or in. You tried lifting it up by the handles, but it felt like you were trying to lift a barbell with one hand. It was bizarre how he could find what he wanted in the nick of time with all these things. Granted, it was neatly partitioned before you searched through it- oh. You messed up his system.

Shit! You're going to embarrass yourself again!

Well, you still have time. The door is locked and he isn't here yet, you could try putting it back.

You heard the door knob rattle. That must be him, he can't possibly get in right?

Your blood turned to ice when you heard the jingling of some keys. Of course, it's Yves. He would know to take your own keys with him. You heard him unlock your door.

You panicked and tried to hop out of bed, so you could barricade the door with something. But while doing so, you knocked the bag off the bed and made the contents of it spill out.

You let out a distressed yelp, his ten million things spread out all over the floor, some rolled under your bed.

"Did I startle you? I apologize." He came in with a laundry basket filled with freshly washed clothes. They're dry and warm to the touch. The basket looks noticeably clean too. Did he scrub it down? The dust and mold are gone, it went back to looking brand new.

You began apologizing, saying that you didn't mean to knock his bag down. You saw that as a potential escape from getting caught snooping around.

"No, it was my fault to leave it near the edge. It was bound to fall." He set the basket down and calmly began picking his belongings off the floor.

You let out a discrete sigh of relief. You're off the hook.

But obviously he knows what you did. His scarf shouldn't even be out of his bag, as he packed it at the bottom. His keys, lipstick and wallet should be the first to leave, yet it remained safely in the toppled bag because you flipped everything upside down while being a nosy person.

Plus, it was zipped up in the first place.

If he didn't want you peering in, he would have hidden it under your bed.

You got down on your knees and helped him collect the items. You dumped it back into the handbag, but Yves nonchalantly pulled it all back out to organize them himself.

"Thank you." He stood back up and securely placed it on your nightstand.

He turned to you and crowded you against the bed. Yves slid his hands under your chin, where the pulse is, checking your temperature by touch. You flinch and squirm because you're ticklish, but he paid no mind to it.

"You're having a fever." He noted. You release a baited breath when he lets you go, reaching for something inside his handbag.

You watch him unscrew the lid of his thermos cup. There isn't any particular Colour to the liquid. But there was a faint fruity scent emanating from it. The ice cubes bob around the mystery fluid. He also produced a metal straw which he plunged into the drink, you must have missed it when you were rummaging through.

He popped two tablets of paracetamol out of a blister pack and brought them to your lips. It's better to just let him feed you, so you took it in your mouth.

"Take small sips." He brought the straw to you.

The beverage is... salty. And sweet. It's sickeningly fragrant for a drink that's supposed to be enjoyable. Except it's not, it's an electrolyte solution he prepared to make up for the ones you lost. The coldness saved it.

You didn't realize how thirsty you were, he placed the cup in your hands before walking back to the laundry hamper. He opened a drawer and began folding your clothes into a neat stack.

You're starting to think he just likes silence. He has a perfectly functioning pair of expensive earbuds, but he doesn't use them neither does he want to initiate a conversation with you.

You put your drink away and flopped down onto your bed. You picked up your phone and decided to check your notifications.

You received a number of messages from the group chat with your housemates.

"(name) u gotta get ur bestie to visit more cuz this is the cleanest the kitchen has ever been!!!"

Attached to it is a series of before and after pictures of the entire house. You almost couldn't recognize the place, it was tidy and sparkling clean.

The rest of your housemates agreed in text, telling you that he was such a pleasant conversationalist.

"oh ya idk if hes still here but he made a massive pot of congee for u, its a fuckin banger u should try it" "Damn u lucky as hel to have him take out da trash on ur behalf, that shit was nasty and he did it without gloves too" "His car is still outside, he has got to be here." "oh shiiiittt hes gotta be LOADEDDD with a hot ride like that. where did u find him??" "Omg!! I need his recipe!! Can you ask him for it, pretty please, (name)? Maybe his number too??" "lawlz not u being hornyz on main" "lmaoo fuckin simp" "im not!! :(( he's just so sweet and handsome, im not stealing their man or anything, i just wanna get to know him!! you guys are just mean!!" "whatever u say president desperate"

You read all their text messages that devolved into banterings, looks like all your housemates know him now. You wonder what he talked about with them. What was there to talk about?

You were brought back to reality when you heard him shut the draw. He left your room once more to retrieve something.

Your phone pinged, alerting you of another text message.

"BRUH hes really still here"

Shortly after, you received a picture taken in the kitchen. Looks like the photographer tried to be subtle from its angle.

The photo showed Yves's back as he scoops something from a pot into a bowl, using a metal ladle.

"shit (name) how did u pull such a fine man It's literally 9pm rn" "What time did he come here tho?? Ik i came home at 6 and i saw him mopping the floor" "like 4pm" "FIVE HOURS ?? (NAME) TELL UR BESTIE HES WELCOME HERE ANYTIME WE WILL OPEN THE DOOR FOR HIM"

At least they seem to be less of pricks to you than before, all thanks to Yves. But it's such a shame that it took a good-looking servicing stranger to get them to act nice towards you.

"(Name), you have to eat something." You looked up from your cracked screen to see Yves holding a bowl of steamy congee. He pulled the chair from your desk and sat next to your bed.

"Sit up straight." He caressed the small of your back. You complied with his command while he stacked your pillows to make a backrest.

It has a mild, pleasantly savoury aroma.

He fed you by the spoonful agonizingly slow, you're horrified that you're now used to this gesture. It isn't something you feel flustered about, it just feels... right. It feels normal and it's as if he's done this for your entire life.

You're getting more comfortable with him and that scares the fuck out of you.

You're surprised that it's not making you want to hurl, the meal is actually bettering your stomach and you wanted to eat more even after finishing the entire bowl. It's definitely bland in your dictionary, since it's only seasoned with salt, pepper and freshly made chicken stock. But it was heavenly. And its the only thing you can stomach now.

You asked for more. You were shocked when your request is denied.

"You're full. You are going to vomit if I give you more. That's enough for now, I'll give you another bowl an hour later." He dabbed the corners of your mouth with a facial tissue.

You froze.

He is right. You are full. You wanted more because it tasted great, but you would have thrown it all up again.

It's eerie how he knows you better than you know yourself. And this is only the third time you have spoken to him. This doesn't seem right, does it?

Yves left your room once more to keep the dishes away. Predictably, the group chat blew up with astonished reactions that Yves appeared right before their eyes again.

You massaged your forehead, wondering if you should have been a bit more firm in saying no to Yves. But he just makes you so weak against him.

You checked the time and the digits turned from 9:59pm to 10:00pm.

It's getting very late.

[rozyowo]

One bed trope w sampo koski ❓❗❗❗

Fem!reader

"...I think i made a mistake while booking a room for both of us." You said awkwardly while looking at the bed. "Are you sure it was a 'mistake'? i feel like you did this on purpose..~" Sampo immediately responded. And well, soon earned a slap to the back of his head. "Oh for God's sake Sampo! Stop trying to make everything seem romantic, are you really that bad at trying to find a partner that you would rather make embarrassing statements and jokes?" You started pinching the bridge of your nose due to annoyance. Out of everyone, this situation really had to happen with Sampo. I swear to the aeons he's literally a curse for me.

"Ouch r/n... That hurts! You've shattered Sampo's fragile heart.." He said dramatically, putting on a sad face to try and make r/n feel guilty. But she wasn't having it. "And i hope that fragile little heart of yours stay shattered for the rest of your life." Was the last thing r/n said before leaving the room to book another room for both of them THAT actually has two beds instead of one.

But Sampo, the usual pest and nuisance he is decided to pull r/n back into the room, just great. "Wait..! Im sure the receptionist is busy taking care of other matters. For now, why dont you just relax yourself— or do anything that doesn't make you destroy everything near you..?" Sampo put on an awkward smile, trying to convince her. His tone was so rushed that she barely understood some part, but you get his point. "Whatever, and if you dare to try anything funny... I'll tell Natasha about your behavior, not only that— you'll also be taking a trip to her clinic." Sampo slightly shivered when you mentioned Natasha. The last thing he want is getting another long lecture from the nurse. "Alright— alright pal..."

....

..

.

"Sampo, any ideas on who'll sleep on the bed and the floor....?"

"You get the bed, i wouldn't want my dear friend catching a cold because of the floor now do i?"

"...Weird but thanks."

After minutes of silence, you decided to lay down on the left side of the bed, tired from what happened earlier, before earlier, AND now. While trying to adjust comfortably, the bed sinked even more and you opened your eyes, immediately looking to your right. "Sampo what the hell?! I THOUGHT we agreed on me sleeping on the bed!" You tried to move away from him but you ended up falling off the bed. Making Sampo laugh. After ten seconds of struggling, you managed to stand up. "You didn't say where i would sleep though.. So i figured out that i could choose on where." He said, trying to sound smart. "Oh, and before you tell me to get off the bed.. It's too late for that my dear friend! So you either sleep on the floor... Or beside me if you prefer to be warm and not freeze to death.." Sampo grinned at the poor frustrated woman before turning around to sleep, leaving you frustrated. "fine. But remember what i said earlier, do anything funny and—" "Alright! Alright.. I already know." Sampo really cut you off.. But you let it slide since you're too tired to even respond. when you had the courage to finally lay down the bed, sampo mumbled something under his breathe. But you didn't dare to bother asking him anymore because you're already drifting to sleep.

Although you didn't know that sampo was still wide awake... Playing with your hair while giggling quietly as if they just got accepted by their crush, which is you. <3

i didn't proofread so don't make fun of me if there's grammar or spelling error >:(

+i wrote this while it was 3am

( please this is so old get out)

[winwintea]

okay more more life lore because i actually love talking and i already talked to my girlfriend and my brother’s boyfriend about everything in my life they are literally part of the family now and i have no one to talk to anymore i only have you london so please bare with me😞😞😞

Also it is so frustrating me because my keyboard keeps changing to my mandrin keyboard every second like i don’t press that world globe thing that changes languages it just changes itself to mandrin I’M NOT TALKING TO MY MOM FOR GOD’S SAKE STOP CHANGING TO MANDRIN💀💀💀

anyways quick lore because it is like 3am and i didn’t sleep🤓🤓

i was born raised and studied 4 years of elementary school in shanghai then we moved to london i studied there till freshman year in highschool then we had to move back to china after the divorce i studied there then graduated and now i’m in new york but i will unfortunately move back to china after a year😞😞😞😞

And my brother’s unemployed ass dropped out of uni so he can live this year at the fullest (his words not mine) and i wish i can but unfortunately i’m the future doctor in the family and i need to study or i will be the bad influence in the family😿😿 sigh i dont wanna be Asian anymore😞😞

NOW GOOD NIGHT I NEED TO SLEEP LOVE YOU MWAH MWAH🎀🎀🎀🎀

I WILL BECOME AN EXTENDED MEMBER OF THE NERDSUNGIE FAMILY

the korean cousin 🤭🤭

anyways quick lore because it is like 3am and i didn’t sleep🤓🤓// fun fact i was actually up all night and did not sleep either (it be like that sometimes... but usually really rare, i go to bed around 10:30ish on a daily basis) and so i watched your two asks get sent in at like 4-5am in the morning for me and was like... "girl wdym go to sleep now..." ALSO ARENT YOU SAME TIMEZONE AS ME RN???

wait wait wait do you speak shanghaiese 👉�� my chinese teacher also would yap away in shanghaiese so i know how to speak a few words but i can fully understand the dialect if you were speaking to me in it. (speaking is hard guys i just cracked down on my mandarin pronunciation)

but when i visited shanghai this year it was so fun watching these people find out that i'm actually korean and i can speak a bit of shanghaiese too. convinced i was lowkey born in the wrong family, pls adopt me nerdsungie's mother and step-mom 🙏

also.. how does your dad's side and your mom's side interact like im gen curious... with the amount of queers this family has it seems so sweet like... im also a child of divorce but brooooooooooooooooo my parents hate each others guts ( i mean they're also straight. but..)

HELP ME YOUR BROTHER "DROPPED OUT" ok trust fund kid /j IM JOKING IDK IF YALL ARE TRUST FUND KIDS BUT IF YOU GUYS ARE BASICALLY ZHONG CHENLE THEN YOU'RE BASICALLY A TRUST FUND KID JUST SAYING....

med student gang 😜😜 lowkey i wanted to be a doctor on my own, my parents hate going to doctors they like refuse to see a doctor in any emergency istg my mother is going to be in a fucking coma and she'll awake to tell me that she will not see a doctor and then go back into her damn coma.

[running-in-the-dark]

okay I'm giving up and going to bed. how do people stay awake for more than 12 hours without feeling like they're going crazy? how did I do it before? weird.

anyway. couldn't paint because I already felt too tired (like, that thing where you can't think anymore and everything is wobbly) and finally convinced myself to stop watching Leverage (so that I can go to bed and think about Leverage)

(im literally barely conscious at this point and I'm pretty sure I shouldn't post this but whatever I won't remember it anyway)

it's 6:30 in the morning and I've just remembered that my niece is coming over today. which isn't great because I haven't slept yet and if I go to bed I'll sleep until 18:00. so. right now I'm thinking I'll just not sleep.

I also really need to paint something and I've been thinking about it all night but didn't want to start, but it's driving me insane so I should probably just do it. which could be good since I usually lose track of time when I paint. hm.

[turtle-steverogers]

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

-

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

-

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

-

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

-

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

-

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

-

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

-

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

-

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

-

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

[fumingspice]

kiss me hard before you go

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Angst because someone (not naming any names) *cough* @lilypadscoven is too happy to write angst. Such a strange excuse, i know. Like whose even happy anymore? That’s so 2014, Freya.

Warning: Angsty as shit! I think. Idk im usually a happy person. Mentions of cheating, mentions of smut etc. 

Requests are open!

taglist: @sarahp-stan @jumpoffabridge-t @sarahpaulsonsoftie @definitelynot-a-writer @bottom4delia @delias-bitch-craft @creepingwolfberry @thesapphictimelady @goodeday2u @that-fucking-error @saucy-sapphic @sarahp-stan @winters-witch-bitch @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate​

You frowned to yourself, flicking through the endless posts on Instagram. It was some godforsaken hour in the morning and no matter how hard you tried or how deeply you tried to ease your restless mind you could not fall asleep. You scrolled on social media endlessly. 

God, what time could it even be? 04.27.

You gave a defeated chuckle. Even time was in on the universe’s cruel joke. She exited Instagram and went to messages. You couldn’t count the number of unsent messages and thrown out speeches you had started and couldn’t bring yourself to finish.

Billie Dean Howard.

The contact had found itself hidden deep in the archives of old messages. You hadn’t contacted her since December when you had walked away. 

Walking away was better that being the one left behind, or so you had tried so hard to tell yourself. In hindsight, the truth was that Billie Dean was going to end up leaving you anyway. Was it courage of conviction or just the simple knowledge that you couldn’t live knowing that the only person you had ever opened your heart to was going to leave you?

What was the last thing she said anyway?

Goodnight :(.

Always with those stupid text faces. Those stupid, adorable text faces. How did she have such a powerful effect on you that you could see Billie’s face in a colon and a bracket? Why hadn’t you blocked her yet? What was left to hold onto other than movie-like memories that had slipped away like the changing of seasons.

You slipped from beneath the covers, Your hair tickled Your shoulders. There was no one beside you for you to reach for in your infinite loneliness anyway. It wasn’t infinite. Why did it feel infinite? Why did you allow one person to waltz into your heart and make you home there? You reached for an unopened bottle of wine and paused. Billie had left this bottle there. You never drank unless it was around Billie. 

“Dom Perignon,” Billie told you. You were never interested in the details of fine wine. All you knew was that the older it was the more people liked it.

“Isn’t that expensive?” The brunette asked, reading the label.

 Billie nodded with a throaty chuckle. “Only the best for my girl. I thought I would save it for a special occasion.”

A special occasion. You chuckled in spite. The occasion in question was supposed Billie’s birthday. A party with many guests. One too many. The house was brimming with sets of both of your friends. You could recall reaching for the same wine all too well before being stopped by your friend’s girlfriend. Erin took you by the wrist and guided you out to the garden. 

“No one’s out here,” you protested. Erin’s face was almost forlorn. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Sorry for what? You snapped out of your confusion. You could see the side of Billie’s body. Pressed against the wall beneath someone else. The anxiety had somehow eased when you watched Billie kiss another, fading into nothing because you knew that there was quite literally nothing that could get even worse than what you were watching.

You pursed her lips. When you imagined these moments, you had always imagined screaming bloody murder. You imagined punching and yelling. You couldn’t move. No tears. Hell, you couldn’t even feel. Erin grabbed your arm and trailed you back, but not before the sight of you, heartbroken in a red dress. had registered in Billie. She barely had time to pull away from her kiss and have the shock of what she was actually doing register. 

It was always a red dress. Red dresses end up in heartbreak. A goddamn blaze in the dark.

Now, you found yourself standing at the window that looked out into the garden. Looking at the spot where you had seen her lover betray every bit of trust that you had. What would have happened if you didn’t see? What if you had seen but Billie didn’t? Would you have said anything? Would Billie have said anything?

It doesn’t matter anyway.

Billie was wine. Aromatic, warm in her stomach. She was a magnificent swirl. She was the impossible to hide stain on your favourite white dress.

Every inch of this house had Billie in its essence. She was inescapable. 

It got even worse when a buzzing noise brought your attention to your phone. “Who the fuck could that be?” you asked yourself. Your heart dropped at the contact.

Billie Dean Howard is calling...

Your world collapsed for a moment as you stared at the phone buzz. Your head told you not to answer, your heart launched for it like a desert oasis. You let it ring a moment too long. You barely managed to blurt out a cracked, “Hello?” when Billie hung up. Presumably giving up.

You bit your lip. Your thumb hovered over the redial button as you fought with yourself. Maybe she’ll call again. That’s a huge maybe. Your finger jolted down unintentionally. Billie picked up on the third ring.

“Y/N?” Her breath hitched. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

You swallowed hard. “I’m here,” you stated flatly, “I can hear you.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Honestly,” you replied. You felt no need for warmth. “I don’t think I meant to.”

“Oh. Uhm, how- how are you?”

“What do you want, Billie? It’s five in the morning,” You cut off. You could hear Billie’s breath falter a little.

“To be honest, I just wanted to see if you would pick up.”

You shook your head, cursing how well you knew the medium. “Don’t lie to me, Howard.”

Billie chuckled. “How can you tell?”

“You were the medium, but I was the human lie detector.”

“You’re a lawyer with an Irish mother and Scilian father. It would be more shocking if you weren’t one.”

You smiled, before catching yourself in an eyeroll. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m in town. I wanted to see you.”

“It’s five in the fucking morning.”

“You’re telling me that I actually woke you up? You were sleeping when I called?”

You bit your lip. “Yes.”

Billie chuckled again. Like it was a fucking game to her. “Well, now who’s lying?”

“What do you want, Billie?” You scoffed.

“I already told you. I want to see you.”

The audacity of the last sentence. The fact that you knew Billie Dean would come whether or not she was invited boiled your blood.

“Why.” It was more of a flat remark than a genuine question. Why. Why now.

Billie was silent for a moment. “I just want to see your face.”

Your groaned internally, another eyeroll coming into play. You scoffed. “You know the address. Find your own way over.”

And she did. The door knocked almost immediately.

You opened the door so quickly that it creaked aggressively.

“You have some fucking nerve. You know that right?” You snapped. The medium’s eyes widened in shock.

“Nice to see you too.”

You stepped aside and ushered her in, cold from the whipping air. Refreshing if you weren’t standing in shorts and a cardigan.

Billie turned around to face her. Tension grew, like insulation keeping everything in. You could choke on all the words you never said. 

“You look beautiful.”

“Je vais te tuer avec mes mains nues et dormir comme un bébé après.”

“I’m flattered.”

You groaned and walked away from her and into the kitchen. You didn’t know if you would slap her, kill her, or kiss her. You were just as prepared to strangle her as you were to fuck her hard on the kitchen floor then and there, kissing every single freckle and mole on her skin. “You have three minutes,” You muttered, pouring yourself a cup of coffee to stop yourself from looking in Billie’s direction. Your heart raced at a thousand miles a second.

“I just dropped in to say hi.”

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

You were unamused. “Is that it? Are you going get out of my life again?”

Billie frowned. “Am I? Y/N, you left me.”

“Because you fucking cheated on me, Billie Dean! What? Did you want me to pretend I didn’t see it? Pretend nothing happened? Do you want me to pretend that you didn’t rebuild my ability to trust people just so you could knock it down yourself?” You shouted. The words were coming out thick and fast now apparently.

“I was so drunk, Y/N,” Billie whimpered, her eyebrows furrowed. She was in genuine pain, you could see the guilt right in her brown eyes.

And you couldn’t give a shit.

“I’ve heard this a hundred times.”

“How many times do I have to say sorry for this?”

You raised your mug to your lips. “You can say it until I’m dead.”

You met the medium’s gaze. Brown eyes waterlogged with tears. Billie dipped her face in her hands. “I don’t know if I can go through with this again.”

You snapped again. “Good,” you said. “Because I’m done.”

“You can’t be serious.”

The pair met, closer than you had in months.

“No matter what stupid, thoughtless, selfish, idiotic, drunken things you said or did. No matter how many times. I have never stopped loving you. I’ve never fallen out of love no matter how many times I told myself I had. I haven’t gone to sleep without imaging your goddamn mouth on my lips and hands on my body and I fucking crave to hate you for it,” you spat, venom on you tongue and tears spilled down your face. “I don’t sleep, Billie. I don’t sleep because I know your arms aren’t there to hold me when I’m still awake at four in the morning. Because I can’t reach across the bed no matter how angry I am at you and feel your hair. I fucking love you goddammit. You threw that away. Not me.”

 Tears streamed down Billie’s face. “I regret what I did every. Single. Fucking. Day. I miss coming home and seeing you writing those stupid fucking reports that I know you hate writing because I know you hate your job. I miss seeing your face when you’ve won a case that has been scratching you for weeks,” she inched forward once more, her hands close to Mallorie’s face. “I miss seeing you reorganising the goddamn silverware every few weeks to keep the Fair Folk happy in the same way I miss seeing the way your mouth curls when you come.”

 You scanned Billie Dean, searching despreately for a bluff, something that would give way to the fact that this was all a lie; a gimmick for a one night stand so that you could just shut her out and go back to hating her. Hating the person you love is so much easier than having your heartbroken again. You couldn’t find that bluff. Even your gut-instinct that panged you when someone lied to you wasn’t alerting anything. Billie’s words were as genuine as her tears and it was killing you to see that Billie loved you. The lawyer had hoped- prayed even- that the medium’s words had been bullshit, sweet nothings that could be whispered into the ear of any lover that had fallen into her bed. But you weren’t just a one time fling that had walked into a casual meet. You had walked into her long-term girlfriend with her tongue down another’s throat. You had stashed that little red box with a diamond engagement ring inside even further into the closet that night, and that’s what had hurt you.

A raw truth in her words soaked into you. Refreshed you. They were the words that the ocean screamed back at you when you stood on the cliffside begging for a reason to go on.

And so you gave in. Almost, at least. You stepped forward into Billie and allowed her storm to engulf you. There was no calm here. There was a raging appetite for destruction and creation. What was that lyric? A tornado has met a volcano. Her lips ravaged yours to the point of being rubbed raw, the type of sting that bothered virtually every moment of your waking day, one that went on for days. You bit down on her lips, her tongue, her chin and cheek. Whether in was in spite or the desperation to seek and find every single piece of her that you could was unclear. 

Those fateful memories crept back, and you pushed hard against her chest. Billie’s lips, now red, white and swollen, pressed against yours again, retracting when there was no return.

“I’m sorry,” you lied. “I think there’s a possibility that I don’t love you.”

Billie’s eyes resembled a broken mirror, or maybe the view of a dying star. The thing about dying stars is that they died a very long time ago and you only notice years later. She nodded with a weak smile. “I understand,” she whispered, pressing her head against yours. She picked up her bag and turned to leave.

You stopped her. What on Earth were you doing? Let her leave so you can hate her in peace.

“Kiss me. Before you go,” you pleaded. “Hard.”

Billie shook her head, her face scrunched before throwing her face at you. The force drove you into the counter sending a glorious shock of pain up your back. Billie was doing what you had asked.

“Fuck you,” you pulled away and muttered, as if she had gonr too far in teasing you.

“What did I do?”

You raised your hand and slapped her face, lightly. “Fuck you for proving that I still love you.”

A rush of relief knocked Billie, visibly. She returned to your lips, much more gently this time, as if she were savouring every part of you.

“I told you to kiss me hard,” you whispered, although not necessarily opposed to Billie’s touch.

“I’ll do anything you really want,” she replied.

You paused for a moment. “Anything?”

Billie smiled. “Anything.”

You kissed her once. Soft. Tentatively. “Fuck me. On the table.” 

[tomthesoftie]

Can you please please do one where mob Tom has to go on like a business meeting for like two months or something and can’t have contact with y/n and in those two months she starts working out and loses a bit of weight and he comes home all proud SMUT PLEASEE Im trying to lose weight and I would literally cry if someone was proud of my weight loss

two-for-one reward

❧ prompt: hard work always pays off, and the prize you get always varies

❧ pairing: mob!tom x reader

❧ genre: suggestive, fluff

❧ warnings: one curse word shit, mentions of hickeys, mentions of horniness, suggestive ending

❧ a/n: i decided to write this for the upcoming week because i have my finals and a lot of work to do for school that i’m stressed about oops so hopefully this’ll be enough content for now. i personally am also exercising, and may i just say, it’s the most rewarding thing ever. tips that i can give are to be do it for yourself and not others, as well as not to put yourself down. don’t stress about your results or not seeing improvement. you’re doing great as it is, and you should be proud that your taking action. i also did not write any smut in this for i don’t feel comfortable writing in such genre anymore, especially because i haven’t been dabbling in that area for a while. like i said in my other post, i will try to return to writing nsfw works, but for now, i will only be writing suggestive. i am so sorry :( i hope the suggestiveness is enough. enjoy xx

masterlist                     prompt list

Two weeks ago, Tom had to go on a trip for his business. Though he considered bringing you along, he didn’t want to involve you in the mob business further than you already were. He left you in the safety of his mansion, accompanied by many of his most trusted men. As much as he wanted to leave Harrison, Sam, or Harry with you, he needed them to come along with him on this mission as backup. 

Within the two weeks he had been gone, you had too much free time on your hands. Not being allowed to leave his property or invite friends over, you were left with barely any sources of entertainment.

One day, though, as you were walking down the large halls, two of Tom’s men trailing behind you, you noticed a room you never ventured in before. Letting your curiosity and boredom lead you, you made your way over to the opaque door. Placing a hand on the metal of the door handle, you winced at the chill that spiked the palm of your hand. Pulling the door open, you were met with a rack of weights placed beside the wall and a treadmill beneath a large television. Walking further into the room, on your right, there was a long pool filled with crystal, teal water. 

Turning to the men behind you, you asked, “Who’s gym is this?”

“Mr. Holland’s, of course,” one spoke up, “we usually aren’t allowed in here, though.”

Looking at the large mirror wall, you looked at your physique. You didn’t need to lose weight, as your body was already perfect as it was, but you could improve your muscle strength and stamina. With that, you decided that within the two weeks, to fill your time, you would work out everyday for hours on end. 

At the beginning of this strengthening journey, you were fatigued much more easily than you were compared to the end of the two week span. You ended every jogging session with your hands supporting your body on your knees, sweat dripping down your face, chest heaving as you panted for air. You could barely hold a plank for 15 seconds, and your arms were established to be weaker than you imagined as you dipped down to do your first pushup. Legs bending into a squat, you felt your thighs shaking by the time you reached twentieth rep. Every time you ended every workout, you felt rewarded and were proud when you looked in the mirror to see your figure tightening.

By the thirteenth day, and final day to yourself, you were much stronger and could hold yourself up for much longer. For the short amount of time you had exercised for, your results were extraordinary. You were much skinner and toned than you were when you began. 

That night, you fell asleep in the empty bed once more, your excitement over Tom coming back keeping you awake but the fatigue overpowered it and lulled you to sleep. 

The next morning, you woke bright and early, changing into a long-sleeved, green, lettuce-edged, wrap shirt paired with straight denim jeans. Doing your hair up into a ponytail, you applied a layer of toner and lotion to your face, finishing your look off with a lightly tinted chapstick. 

Rushing down the hallway, you heard the doors opening, followed by the familiar, accented voices.

You saw Tom taking big strides down the corridor you were practically sprinting through and jumped into his arms, shouting, “Tommy!”

“Woah, darling,” he chuckled as you nuzzled your face into the nape of his neck, “I missed you. I guess you missed me too?”

You only nodded in response.

Putting you back onto your feet, Tom looked you up and down, eyes surveying your body, “You look different,” you gave him a look, “In a good way,” he rushed to add on. “You look slimmer and more fit. Did you workout while I was gone? Or am I imagining shit?”

“Actually, i’m quite glad you noticed, but in fact, I did lose weight. I discovered your gym early on and decided to fill my time by working out,” you smiled proudly.

“Not that I didn’t love your body before, you look so hot right now. Would it be weird if I said I’m a little bit turned on?” He asked, a shy grin resting on his face.

“It definitely would be...” you paused for a moment, taking in Tom’s disgruntled expression, “weird if you hadn’t mentioned it. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

Smirking, he lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the nearest vacant room he could find. His lips were already latched to yours, and, carrying you with one arm, he used his empty hand to strip you from your shirt.

“I’m so proud of you,” he mumbled onto your neck before sucking on the skin, leaving a dark purple mark behind. 

As the day progressed, many more marks were left all over your body that nobody, except for Tom, would be allowed to see: a prize given from Tom for your hard, impressive work.

[aphroditestummyrolls]

i wrote a fairytale au moment

my country has reached a terrifying level of disarray and i am scared. so i wrote some escapism (literally) for Joe and Nicky. i was even inspired by this to write a whole fairytale au fic!!! it is long-- like, my star wars fics level of long, and im very excited about it. it feels good to be excited about something lol. 

Folks that wanted to be tagggged: @ilostmyothersock, @littlerosetrove, @antukini, @sunriseseance, and @polarcell <3333 i hope you enjoy it! let me know if you do. 

His heart pounded in his chest, the nighttime’s dewy grass sending him slipping and sliding as he darted between the trees. He didn’t dare take his usual, well-trodden path. Not tonight— not if his father had sent anyone after him. 

The gardener’s cottage was on the edge of the palace grounds, where the lush, even lawns, sculpted shrubs and elaborate floral displays gave way to the foothills of the mountains. The ancient groves of chestnut trees were wilder, monuments to the artistry of a natural, unpruned life. Silver blue moonlight shone on their trunks, guiding Yusuf’s frantic steps as he dove deeper into the woods. He had slipped out of his chamber window without a sound that night— just as he had many nights before. There were no guards stationed out this far. He’d left the last of them blissfully ignorant,  back by the last of the rose trellises— he knew it, but the urgency of tonight was twisting him into knots. He had to be sure. He had to take all precautions. 

He couldn’t live with himself if he accidentally exposed this secret. 

Finally, the endless shadowy forest gave way to a familiar clearing. The iron fist clenched around his heart loosened some, and he heaved a deep breath he hadn’t known he was holding. 

The cottage was small. The roof leaked when it stormed, and the front door had gone crooked with age, providing a gale-force draft that rattled the windows on windy nights. The stones used to build it were near as old as the trees around it, starting to crack after weathering centuries of snowy winters and sun-baked summers. 

It was small, yes. But he knew that the bed was warm, that the verdant rows of growing vegetables smelled like earth and honey under the sun’s heat, and that he felt relaxed there. It felt more like a home than the Palace of Genoa, where he was all but trapped under the constant gaze of gossiping strangers. It was even more comforting than the silks and spices of home, across the sea where his family and his people ruled. 

His father had told him that he was accompanying him to Genoa to discuss trade imports between their kingdoms. He had said that they were to spend the year solidifying their connections with the Genoese royal family, drawing up important contracts— it's time you learned a thing or two about compromise, Yusuf. 

That was what he said. 

Yusuf rapped desperately at the door, a ragged half a sob punching out of his throat when he realized that he was finally there, on the flagstone threshold of someplace warm and safe, and— 

“What’s happened? Yusuf?” The door opened to the smoldering orange light of the hearth, the brightest lantern hastily lit by the sleep-ruffled man blinking owlishly at him. “You said it would be too dangerous to meet tonight, while you met with your father…” 

Yusuf would have laughed at his sweet face, if he weren’t about to cry from relief. 

“He means to marry me to her.” He said, shaping the words outside of his panicked head for the first time. They felt too loud in the quiet night, too starkly horrible against the pristine haven of the trees. “The Princess, she—“ Yusuf choked. 

Only now did he notice how his hands trembled, the way his vision was going steadily blurrier— he blinked against the heat building behind his eyes. The summer night was cool, but not cold, yet he still shivered. He shivered until a work-rough hand took pity on him. Nicolo reached out and pulled Yusuf into him, like he had all those months ago, back when everything changed. 

He pulled him through the threshold into the cottage, the floorboards creaking and the door swinging shut behind them as Yusuf spun around to immediately throw his arms around his love’s shoulders. The fog of sleep was gone when Nico’s pale eyes locked on his, suddenly and horribly awake. A hot tear broke ranks and burned a track down Yusuf’s cheek. 

Nico made a sad little noise. It rumbled from somewhere deep in his chest, a hum and a moan, the quiet syllable of no hidden in behind his teeth— like mourning. He cradled Yusuf’s face, his thumb brushing the wetness away. 

“When are you to be betrothed?” He asked, his voice hoarse, like the sentence had to be yanked out of him. 

Yusuf just shook his head, the thought of it flipping his stomach. “They intend to announce the engagement by the end of the summer.” 

Something broke behind Nicolò’s eyes, and Yusuf knew what he was thinking. They had barely a fortnight left. The arm around his waist squeezed tighter, pressing their chests flush. 

He could feel their hearts, pounding in time with each other. Usually it was a comfort, but it was a ticking clock between the two of them now. Their moments together were numbered. 

Nicolo shuffled them around after a few tender seconds— breathing each other’s air, stroking over each other’s backs, existing in shared space— and maneuvered Yusuf to sit on the edge of his bed. It was still warm, the covers rumpled. 

“I’m sorry to wake you. I just… I had to see you.” 

Nico shook his head, “No apologies, Tesoro.” He puttered around the room, stoking the fire from embers to flames before setting the kettle over the highest heat. He settled on his knees, knelt at Yusuf’s feet to study him face to face. 

He brushed Yusuf’s tousled curls off his forehead, and gazed into his eyes. His love’s eyes were a pale, silvery green, but tonight, they looked darker. In the dim glow of the cottage at night, they were bluer than usual, contrasted with the amber firelight. Yusuf leaned into his palm as it traced his hairline, down over his beard and jaw. Nico sat in silence, watching him with the gentleness of someone patient enough to watch the flowers grow. He was waiting. 

“I…” he didn’t know where to start, what to say, “She’s so… She’s so old.” 

Nico’s smile was unmistakably sad, little more than a quirk of lips, but his nod of agreement spurred Yusuf on. 

“It has nothing to do with her looks, really. She’s just so old, and so wasteful, and her gaze on me is so… I just… I understand that I’ve put off marriage as long as my father can take. But she’s 25 years my senior. Her children are my age, Nicolo!” 

He had told these things to his father— he had begged him not to go through with the arrangement, not to agree to the Genoese king’s proposal for his daughter’s hand. It’s already done, he’d said, it was arranged months ago. 

Yusuf had no choice in the matter. 

“I suppose it’s stupid that I was surprised.” He groused, his throat feeling tight and his voice thick. “It’s been so long since any of his children were more than bargaining chips to him— I’m not his son, I’m a new trade route.” 

The kettle on the fire began to whistle, but Nico was sure to take his hands and kiss his knuckles before standing up to fix their tea. 

Left to drift in his mind, Yusuf chewed his lip and floated through his memories, mentally listing the siblings that he’d lost to distant royal families. Only his eldest brother, Farouk, would never leave home. The throne was his, but what about the rest of them? What was the point of having children, of lovingly raising a family, if only to scatter them to the four winds in exchange for trade routes, dowries, and peace treaties? 

It would be different if Mama was alive, he thought with a despairing little whimper. She wouldn’t let him do this…

“Yusuf, breathe.” His love’s voice broke into his thoughts, calling him back from the tangle of his mind. A steaming mug of rosehips, mint and honey was pressed into his palm, and Nico took it on himself to mold his hand around the warm pottery. “D’you have it?” 

“If I say no, will you keep holding my hand like that?” Will you never let me go? he added silently, sure that his eyes were saying it all for him. Nico’s grip was warm and solid, and the calluses felt rough against him. It tethered him to reality, right there on his love’s bed. His pale gaze was soft and glimmering a little. Like he was going to cry. Like he couldn’t imagine saying goodbye to Yusuf anymore than Yusuf could bear the idea of letting Nicolo go. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, reaching out his free hand to card into his long hair. “Don’t let them take me, Nicolo— come away with me.” 

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He didn’t mean to spring this half formed, half delirious, half perfect plan on him so soon after waking him up in the middle of the night. The words fell from his lips, unwarranted and chaotic, but suddenly he was desperate to go, run, and be free. 

Before he knew what was happening, the hot mug was lifted from his hand and Nico’s were on him, cupping his cheeks to slam their lips together. His waist was wedged between Yusuf’s thighs, his arms slipping down to wrap around him and tug his hips closer while Yusuf twined both of his hands into his love’s hair,  desperate and trembling with the need to have him as close as he could be. 

He nearly gasped with the need for air by the time they dared to pull away, but he missed his love’s lips the second they weren’t on his. Nico pressed their foreheads together, drinking in deep gulps of air, tear tracks wet on his cheeks and clumping his lashes as he fisted his hands in Yusuf’s tunic. 

Yusuf’s hands in his hair slid down to stroke gently along his cheeks, feeling the wetness and studying how it gleamed in the glow of the hearth. 

He held tight to Yusuf, fingers flexing in the fine fabric of his sleeping clothes. His jaw worked, jumping the way it did when he was holding his tongue. Everything about him was grim and elegant, as still as a statue. 

He was so beautiful, and so sad. 

“Why d’you look at me like that, Hayati?” He sighed, his own heart gripped in a terrible vice. 

Nico swallowed, lips twisted with concern for a moment before he finally sighed and said, “I cannot ask you to leave your life, Yusuf. You are of such importance—“ 

“I am the sixth child of the Tunisian King. Farouk is his heir, and he already has three children of his own. I am nothing more than a mountain pass into the north to my father. My people barely know a thing about me— to them I’m simply the handsome, unmarried oddity of the royal family. My love, you know the wealthy trappings of royal life have never been something I need— but I need a life where I am appreciated and loved for who I am! I need simple comforts and a partner to walk hand and hand with through life. I need you, Nicolo.” 

The fire crackled, and the cottage was quiet. Yusuf’s chest heaved, and tears streamed down Nicolò’s face. His bright eyes shone with a reverent light, like he had in the early days of falling in love— like he still did, in the pale morning hours when Yusuf was still half asleep by his side. It was as if he was falling in love all over again. Awestruck and grateful, his eyes looking like glimmering, full moons as he beheld Yusuf like a fallen star. 

It took a long moment for Nico to find the words. Yusuf stroked his hair, hands still trembling from the adrenaline, even as the knots in his gut began to loosen. 

“Yusuf, you…” he trailed off, rose back up on his knees and kissed him like an act of worship— firm, tender, salty with tears and trembling just as much as Yusuf was. Nico pulled slowly back, just far enough to nuzzle their noses and look him in the eyes. “I have never loved anyone the way I love you.”  

“Will you come with me?” 

“To the ends of the earth. Yes, Tesoro.” He sucked in a breath and let it out long, in a sigh that seemed to clear out all the corners of Yusuf’s cluttered mind. And then, he smiled. 

Nicolo was a man of intricate reactions. There was beauty in each and every one, but it was a private, special thing to see that broad, happy grin. 

“Drink this while it’s still hot— it’ll help your heart calm itself.” He fussed, pressing the mug back into Yusuf’s palm, and this time, he took it gladly. Nico stood to his full height, standing over him where he sat for a brief moment while Yusuf didn’t dare take his eyes off of him. Looking back down at him with the glow of something divine in his eyes, Nico bent himself down to press a soft kiss to Yusuf’s brow. 

“Well, my Prince— where shall we go?” 

Yusuf grinned back, something bright and hopeful growing in his chest. 

They had planning to do. 

********

Yusuf gazed up from where he laid in the glen, soft grass and wildflowers under his feet. The sun dappled the forest floor, streaming down into the parting of the trees where the cottage sat. Nico flickered his lips into one of his barely-there smiles as he gazed down at him where Yusuf had pillowed his head on his thigh. 

Summer was nearly done. The full, green leaves were burnished gold around the edges by the hot sunlight; the garden smelled heavy with ripe harvests and vibrant flowers; and— on the far side of the palace grounds, beyond chestnut groves and manicured lawns, and terraces— the home of the King was glittering with silk flags and banners for the harvest ball. The last days leading up to the festival were certain to be wildly busy— there wouldn’t be a single moment where Yusuf could slip by unnoticed. Nicolo would be fussing about in the palace gardens with last minute preparations from dawn to dusk. 

Usually, Yusuf would be tearing his hair out from the stress. He couldn’t stand the pomp and circumstance, the endless preparations of a ball. He spent hours per day, standing stock still and poked with pins while he was fitted for another itchy, Genoese costume. King Vincenzo was seeking out any opportunity to discipline the palace staff, and the courtiers got particularly insufferable as the long awaited date came to peacock around at the height of their finery. Even back at home, festivals were terrible, but in Genoa, Yusuf’s father had become even more strict. You are representing our kingdom! Act like it! was the most common phrase, hissed into Yusuf’s ear for the most minor infractions. He was constantly watching him, his shrewd eyes looking for any moment to say stand like royalty, Yusuf— shoulders back. 

He hated standing on ceremony and the never-ending scrutiny— but, this time was the last time. His escape was in sight. He didn’t complain a single time about the drapes of scratchy, heavy fabric piled on his shoulders, or the way standing with such rigid posture made his back ache. He took each new indignity with a smile so gracious that even his father was smiling back. 

Thinking of Nicolo made every pinprick more bearable. Lying there in the sun, eyes closed to bask in the warmth, he thought about the expertly packed saddlebags under his love’s bed. He listened to his soft humming— a tune Yusuf had only heard when he was rearing his most delicate seedlings, or on their quietest, gentlest mornings together— and the way it blended into the sounds of the birds. 

Yusuf had never felt so certain of his path. 

He was so content that he didn’t notice that the fingers twining their way through his curls had gone until they must have been missing from him for quite a while. He cracked open one eye, peering up at his love with mild accusation. Nico wasn’t paying attention to his pouting lips, though. 

Sitting up to get a better look at him, Yusuf found Nico’s deft hands full of colorful flowers. He weaved their stems back and forth, his steady gaze flicking over to Yusuf with a sparkle in them. 

“If I didn’t know you like I do, I’d have thought you’d fallen asleep.” He chuckled. 

Yusuf sat close to his side, able to look over his shoulder and study the intricate bouquet. “What a beautiful braid.” He murmured, awe in his voice. 

Some of the blooms were the small, wild ones that grew in the glen, poking out between the wide circles of bright blue coneflowers and puffs of golden orange chrysanthemums that Nico must’ve pulled up from the garden bed beside them. 

“Let me show you how?” Nico replied, phrased as a question even as he handed over his work for Yusuf’s inspection. “It’s not as hard as it looks, I promise.” He said, tiny smile tilting his lips again. 

Perhaps it was his imagination, or his own excitement, but it seemed as if Nicolò’s smiles had gotten wider, his eyes gone softer. The rod of nervous tension that always clung to his spine in the days before a ball wasn’t as unyielding and stiff. 

Nico was more at peace. He weaved the stems of his beloved flowers in, out and under each other, dutifully guiding Yusuf’s hands as he collected his own flowers. He was right— it wasn’t as difficult as it had looked. The rhythm was steady and relaxing, a balm on the last of his nerves as he tucked flower after precious flower into his braid of grass. The crickets chirped, the birds sang, and the sun fed the earth— Yusuf sat side by side with his love, and it felt right. 

“You know, I have been thinking.” Nico murmured, his rich accent nothing more than a purr into the summer breeze. 

Yusuf chuckled, knocking their shoulders together, “Dangerous.” 

Nico huffed an indignant sound, but his eyes rolled playfully when he met his gaze, “Of course, of course— thinking is only for those supremely educated, princely philosophers. How dare I—“ 

“No, no no no!” Yusuf shook out his curls, letting out a full, genuine laugh, “Tell me every thought that has ever passed through your head, Hayati— it is my privilege to be your audience.” He was grinning, laughing, cupping Nico’s sunkissed cheek and basking in the light of his eyes. “What were you thinking about?” 

Nico licked his lips, swallowing like his throat had gone dry as he maneuvered himself to face Yusuf, sitting on his knees like he had not so long ago. Something about it squeezed at Yusuf’s heart, his smile fading into seriousness as he waited. 

He carefully took and set down their braided flowers on the grass, scooping Yusuf’s hands up into his own. 

“If we are to truly leave this place, I want to do this properly.” He said, eyes clear and trained on him with an unwavering focus. “I love you, Yusuf, but I can’t promise any royal comforts, or an easy life. I have no ring or dagger to give,” his breath came out long and slow, intentionally calm even while his fingers squeezed around Yusuf’s hands. He let go, then, picking up his circlet of braided flowers to hold in his lap. “I can only promise you the kinds of beauty I can make grow. Would you…” 

His voice stuttered, his gaze dropping down to his lap and the blue flowers there, as if Yusuf was too blinding to look at. He could feel his smile splitting his cheeks, bright and unabashed, the cry of yes on the tip of his tongue, nearly jumping from his lips.

But he waited, patiently holding space for his love. He reached out and cupped his hand over his wrist, feeling his pulse race under the delicate skin, just to make Nico meet his gaze again. 

“Would you marry me, my Prince?” 

Yes. “Yes, my Gardener. I will marry you.” He replied, whispered like a secret, but more resonant and proud than anything he’d ever said. He was grinning, “Though, I’m not sure how much of a Prince I’ll be by the time we wed.” 

Nico huffed one of his little laughs, meeting Yusuf with one of his rare, open smiles as he lifted the circlet of blue and orange and braided white to rest gently on top of his curls. 

“No, but you will always be mine.” He said, swiping a tear from Yusuf’s cheek, not unlike he had done so recently, for such different reasons. It was more breath than sound, matching Yusuf’s hush. 

I’ve never been so proud to wear a crown, he thought. 

With his chest feeling expansive and warm, his cheeks hot with a pink flush, Yusuf hastily reached out for his own circlet of flowers. Their wide, fragrant petals and little sun-yellow centers felt silky under his fingers as he lifted it to Nico’s brow. 

“If I maintain such royalty, then, my husband must, too.” He replied, voice nearly lost in the birdsong. “King of my heart, my true love.” 

Nico’s face had gone soft and slack with a familiar expression— as if Yusuf was the sun itself, as if his warmth and light had singlehandedly brought him to life. 

Yusuf let himself be held as Nicolo took his face in his hands and leaned in close. He pressed his lips to his tear-stained cheek, and then the other. He peppered the smallest, gentlest kisses across the freckles on his nose, and Yusuf wrapped his hands around his love’s wrists to keep him close. The last kiss was softly, loving left on the crest of his brow bone, tender enough to bring the forest to a standstill. 

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (St. Louis)

summary: (pt 1) Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - part 4) Doux and Reader get out of Missouri finally but not before one last stop      (part 5)

warnings: swearing

word count: 6205

a/n: im getting a smidge impatient on my planned mutual pining slow burn as you can see. mmm i want a piece of st louis butter cake. @blixeon​ gets credit for putting the douxie trying to keep y/n away from moppet!douxie idea in my head. its not a big plot point here but idk felt i should still mention it

Douxie stared up at the ceiling with dry, unblinking eyes. There were many interesting cracks in the ceiling, barely illuminated by the light streaming in from the bathroom door. He was wide awake, despite not being able to convince himself to move. He was never a morning person, but once he remembered where he was, it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water on him. Y/n was no longer clinging to him when he woke up, albeit, she was not even in the bed at all when he woke up. That had gave him a fright before he realized he could hear the shower running. Somehow, this was worse than if she’d still been there when he woke up. This meant she woke, untangled herself from him, and was probably going to pretend like it didn’t happen, since she couldn’t possibly know he stayed awake long enough to know about it. Which, while waking up in her arms would have been a little awkward, at least he would have gotten a conversation out of it. An acknowledgement. Something.

Speaking of the shower, somehow that was doing a number on him too. It was so strange. They’ve lived together for years now; they’ve shared a bathroom for years now. He’s heard her shower so many fucking times. No sweat. These feelings were making him silly. Perhaps it was this fucking room. The domesticity of it all, which was a weird thing to say when you literally lived with said person. Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining that he was waking up in His Home, listening to His Wife get ready for work in the en suite of Their Bedroom. She didn’t want to wake him, how sweet. She was always worried about him getting more sleep. He’d go help her with her hair, braid it for her. His hands would run through her soft hair as he styled it. She’d kiss him on the nose before she left to go make him a cup of coffee while he got ready. She knew just how he liked it. They’d brush their teeth together, every morning, just like they did last night.

Bleeding balroths, last night. What was he going to do about last night. His dumb heart wouldn’t just be able to leave well enough alone, apparently. Does he,,, say something? Perhaps he should wait to see if she says something. That would be,, the safer route. He knew one thing for sure though. He wasn’t going to act like he didn’t love every second of it. He’d made up his mind. His life has been way too long and lonely for him to keep this ‘it’s not like I like you’ act up. And for Merlin’s sake, he had died not even three days ago. He had almost been gone, and would have never known the love of his beloved. And family wasn’t just who you have, it was also who you’re with. And he was with Y/n. She was already his family, so why not be his family? Like he dreamed of? Yes, he was going to come clean. If she said something. Yes.

Suddenly, he was aware of a noise. Someone had just knocked on the front door of the room. Or less of a knocking and more of a rapping. Archie’s ear’s flicked, but he didn’t stir. Douxie held his breath. The rapping stopped, but now whoever it was trying to open the door. Thank Merlin he warded that thing up. It couldn’t open from the outside, he made sure of it. The door handle stopped moving. Doux still made no noise. Hopefully whoever or whatever that was had decided to move on to easier prey.

Y/n combed her fingers through her wet hair. It was the best she could do at the moment. She’d try and braid it back while it was still wet, so it wouldn’t get even worse. Y/n pulled on the same clothes she’d been wearing for a week. Well, actually she had been wearing a medieval dress for most of it, but still. She looked in the mirror. Not bad for someone on the run. But they did need to make a shopping trip. As much as Y/n did not want to waste an entire other day to a store (thanks Kmart), and didn’t want to spend more of their small savings they were living off of, they did need some things. Backpacks to keep their few belongings close, one more set of clothes each so they could have something to be wearing while they wash the other set, maybe some pajama pants would be nice, although nonessential, a couple of toothbrushes that weren’t the motel provided ones, plus a tube of toothpaste, soap, a hairbrush, phone chargers, some emergency food that wouldn’t spoil, some reusable water bottles, a fucking first aid kit even, lots of stuff. It’s not like they were able to pack for this trip. Hell, they should probably get Nari an outfit that would cover up her, eh, forest spirit-ness. Her running around in leaves isn’t exactly helping their conspicuousness. Despite Y/n not wanting to add to that list, she sure was getting cold in her short-sleeved top. She needed a jacket. She’d been borrowing Douxie’s a bit for the last few days, but if she just stole it then he would be cold. She needed one of her own, she supposed.

Y/n walked out of the bathroom. Archie and Nari were still snoozing, but Doux looked like he was awake. He sat up as soon as he realized Y/n had come out. He looked, troubled. And he had every right to be, she thought. He had just suffered the loss of his mentor and died himself. He had been blankly staring at the ceiling when she’d first came into the room. He probably had so much on his mind. Thankfully he had Archie and herself. They’d be there for him, she’d make sure of it. It’d be best to give him some more time to think, though. She didn’t want to push too hard. He’d tell her if he was struggling, she was sure of it. He’d been so open lately. And they’d had plenty of talks in the past about not expressing frustrations in their lives. He hadn’t been too open with her when they first started living together and it had made being roommates stressful at first. It wasn’t a problem anymore though. They’d worked through it, and it had even brought them closer.

She told him it was his turn for the bathroom now. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then quietly nodded as he got out of bed and headed for the shower. Strangely, this inn stay has been the most normal things had been all week. It was almost like they were home. She was back in her routine of waking, getting ready, telling Douxie it was his turn to get ready. He was so sweet, he always let her have the bathroom first. So chivalrous, although, she had a sneaking suspicion it was more of his excuse to sleep in a little longer.

It was nice, living with Douxie. It was the first time she’d been on her own. Or, well, not on her own per se, since Douxie was there, but at least away from her aunt. Her aunt had practically raised her, but that didn’t mean she was too grateful for it. She felt guilty about that last part, but not too guilty. Her aunt was pretty cold. It was clear that Y/n was just a charity case to her, a beggar who wouldn’t be looked at twice if not for blood relation. She hadn’t even bothered telling Y/n about their family’s magic until Y/n had stumbled face first into it herself. And even then, she only taught Y/n a minimal number of spells, just enough to control it, so she could successfully hide it. Didn’t need some troublesome untrained wizard ruining the family name and scaring the party guests. Y/n didn’t even know that wizards were pretty much immortal at a certain point until she noticed it herself. The people she had grown up with were all out there getting their pretty adult faces, and she was stuck with a baby face. Her aunt only told her once she questioned it. She was well past being nineteen now, but was going to be stuck like this forever apparently. What a great way to live.

Of course, she was absolutely thrilled when she found out her new roommate was in the same boat as her in that department. It was serendipity. The whole thing with Douxie was perfect, really. She had heard through her friend who worked at Hextech that someone had put up a roommate ad flyer on the company’s bulletin board and she called right away. She hadn’t been having any luck apartment hunting. She couldn’t afford rent on her own with her bookstore job, and Arcadia Oaks wasn’t exactly a college town teeming with people looking for roommates. A wizard roommate would be perfect, and the price was right. So imagine her surprise when said new roommate also turned out to be her boss. Y/n hadn’t even known he was looking for a roommate, let alone that he was a fellow wizard. His old roommate, Jack, had gotten married and moved out last month, he told her. Y/n was surprised at how very easy it was getting into this agreement too, Doux already knew her so he didn’t even interview her. And she didn’t have to worry about new person awkwardness. It really was serendipity. Of course, it hadn’t been all rosy, as mentioned before, but they were really groovin’ together now.

Y/n stretched out on the bed. She could hear the water running through the wall. It had been so awesome living right above her job. She got to sleep in, and she’d get ready, eat some breakfast, and be able to instantly step into the bookstore. She’d never be late ever again. Or she never was late again. That was a depressing thought. But hey, bright side, now they could have all the fun of starting up a new bookstore. Perhaps she could convince Douxie to add on a tea shop this time too. One that had cute little round tables with pretty gingham table cloths and flower vases, filled with flowers that they grew themselves in the pots on their balcony. They’d make sure the new bookstore had a nice window that was meant for a display but they’d leave as a place for Archie to sleep in and make snarky comments as he watched the people go by. Douxie could paint the letters on the signs and window, he was great at that. It’d be a task, but truly, they had to remake their bookstore. Even if not in Arcadia. A new bookstore they could fill up with love, that’d be an idea Y/n could hold on to.

Stars, she loved their bookstore. She loved the smell. She loved the peaceful homey vibe. She loved the man who owned it. Whoops, forget about that last part. She even loved the quirky characters it drew in. One time, she encountered this really crazy lady, and she wasn’t even sure if this lady was real or if she dreamt her, since she was the only witness. But Mordrax’s miracles, was this lady something. It started normally enough, Y/n picking up the store’s landline.

“GDT Arcane Bookstore! Please state your grievances.” She knew in the back of her mind that she was the only person who found her dumb jokes funny, but she still made them to brighten up her own day. Also to piss off Hisirdoux with her unprofessionalism. He made the same passive-aggressive ‘I’m disappointed in you’ face every time. It was fun.

“Yes, Hello. I would like to know if you carry any children’s books.”

“Yes ma’am, we sure do. A whole section.”

“Great. And are you child friendly?”

“Are we-, child friendly? I-, Yes I suppose we are ma’am.”

“Perfect. And you’re open until eight?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you, young lady.”

The whole phone call was odd. Y/n wasn’t too jazzed about being called ‘young lady’ either. She had mocked the lady as soon as the phone call ended, but she shrugged it off, and had forgotten that the whole thing had even happened as she went about her day. Then, at about seven, this lady rolls up. She was dressed to the nines but like, in an old rich person way. Long fur coat, black dress underneath with pearls around her neck. On one arm, she had a fancy purse covered in the logo of a fashion brand Y/n wasn’t going to admit she recognized. In the other, she carried a large porcelain doll, the size of a five-year-old, which was dressed in a frilly pink dress that remined her of the dresses her aunt used to make her wear. When Y/n greeted her, she recognized the voice as the strange caller from earlier. Y/n got the feeling that some sort of shit was about to go down, and couldn’t wait. If only Archie was here.

Fur coat lady sat her doll down on the old loveseat in the sitting area and asked Y/n to keep an eye on the doll while she went to go pick out some books. Emily could be so mischievous sometimes, she told Y/n. She assured fur coat lady that she’d watch Emily like a hawk. The doll’s painted eyes stared into Y/n’s soul. Fur coat lady came back far longer than Y/n was comfortable with. She asked Y/n if Emily had been a good-mannered girl. Y/n just nodded, not sure if she should be encouraging this, on second thought. Fur coat lady then preceded to read the doll nine children’s books in a row, pausing in between only to ask the doll if she had liked it. Y/n was too baffled to even tell this lady to scram, we aren’t a library, you know. It crept closer to eight, and Y/n was actually dreading what was going to happen when she’d have to kick this lady out, but thank the stars, fur coat lady starts telling her doll about how it was close to its bedtime so they couldn’t read any more stories, aww darn, and they had to go now. She thanked Y/n as she walked out of the door. Y/n flipped that closed sign behind her and quickly retreated upstairs for the night. She’d go make a cup of tea to relax her nerves after that encounter. Y/n had plenty of other wild stories of people who’ve stopped by their bookstore. It was great for conversation at parties.

Y/n loved parties. With Douxie came all his friends, and she didn’t mind that one bit. They were always over whenever Doux had time off. It was so nice; it kept their place lively. Y/n cooked and baked a lot, it was one of those skills her aunt insist she have, and having so many mouths to enjoy her food felt good. And whether it was band practice or game night, she was happy to play hostess. Douxie’s friends were fun to talk to. She suddenly had the freedom to invite her own friends over too. Having so many people around all the time had helped her loneliness big time when she first moved in. Her aunt’s house may have been big, but it was empty. Her aunt threw a fancy party a month, but none of the people there were people worth talking to. It was so cold. Their apartment was warm.

Honestly, as insane as it was to think about, Y/n couldn’t see herself ever leaving Douxie to live on her own anymore. At first, this arrangement was supposed to be a temporary thing until she could find a better job and go off on her own. But somehow along the way, ‘the apartment we share’ became Their Apartment, and the bookstore that she happened to operate with him became Their Bookstore. It was nuts, and also the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to Y/n. It was the home she’d never had. Douxie and Archie were her family. Way more so than her aunt ever was. It was beautiful, magical, marvelous. She no longer worked, she just lived. Hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time Doux had formally assigned her a shift. She was just kind of always there. Which she was glad to do. She loved it. And when it was time to stop working, she’d just head upstairs and get to spend even more time with her favourite person. That is, if he wasn’t on one of his bistro shifts. She felt so safe and cared for. She no longer felt alone.

If Douxie wanted to make that, how you say, a little more official, Y/n wouldn’t be opposed to that. She had a hunch that he had some sort of feelings for her, if his recent actions were anything to go by. Although, just like she didn’t want to push him about the angst feelings, she didn’t want to push him in these feelings either. He’d tell her when he was good and ready. Slow and steady wins the race after all. Besides, if she was wrong and he didn’t have feelings for her, she’d definitely be tossing this good thing they had going out the window directly into the dumpster. She had to admit though, waking up this morning cuddled into him was the loveliest way she’d ever woken up in her life. She could get used to that.

She wondered if Douxie would be a wedding person or an elopement person. Not that she expected him to marry her. But it would be nice. She rolled over and found her phone on the nightstand. There wasn’t any harm in looking at some wedding dresses, right? Just in case. Y/n listened to Nari yawn and shuffle over to the bed. She opened an arm for the forest child who snuggled in, curious at what Y/n was looking at. Y/n tilted the phone for her to see. Nari really liked the poufy dresses. She’d point excitedly to the one’s she thought were pretty while Y/n scrolled. While Y/n wasn’t a fan of big frilly stuff herself, she had to admit, those poufy dresses would make her feel like Cinderella, which was never something she’d have thought appealing, but somehow it was. There were some really gorgeous not poufy ones also, and even a cool black one. Some that Douxie might like too. Y/n leaned more towards those, but wasn’t gonna tell Nari that. The veggie lady sure was having as much fun as her right now, surprisingly. Hopefully she wouldn’t blab any of this to Hisirdoux though.

Speak of the devil, he came out of the bathroom and sat on the end of the bed. Y/n quickly closed the app she was scrolling through. She sat up, taking Nari with her. Archie yawned and stretched, after sensing movement in the room. He moved from the chair into Douxie’s lap. After giving Arch a good scratch behind the ears, Douxie turned to Y/n.

“So, what’s today’s itinerary?”

“I-, wait, why do I have to be the one who decides what we do?”

“Because you’re the one who likes to have a plan when it comes to these things.”

“Fair enough.” Y/n pulled up google maps. If she had known she would have to do this she would have done it while he got dressed instead of fantasizing about their wedding. “Okay, so as much as I hate to say this, but we gotta go back to the store today.”

Douxie groaned as he laid back. His still wet hair was gonna dry funky like this, but he didn’t care. “Fine. We’ll do that in Illinois. We gotta get out of this town before anything else.”

“I agree,” she paused, seeing something that caught her eye. It would be frivolous, but she couldn’t help herself from asking “Ooh! Can we stop in St. Louis?”

“St. Louis?”

“Yeah! It’ll be fun, Douxie. We can go sit in those cafés that people go to in the black and white movies, we can go take a cheesy tourist picture of us by the arch thing, and I’m really craving some St. Louis butter cake now.”

Doux laughed. “Okay, but only for a few hours, Love.” The least he could do was let her have a little down time to relax and have fun after this hell week. Highly populated cities were good for throwing off their scent too.

“Thank you,” she went back to her map, snickering, “And we’ll stop in Effingham to shop.” She snorted.

“Effingham?” Douxie said it correctly, in his proper accent, which was not as amusing.

“Effing. Ham. Baby.” He rolled his eyes.

They booked it out of that motel and out of that town. Douxie all but tossed the room key into the creepy innkeeper’s hands as they rushed out. Back on the boat, safe at last. He ran a mental headcount once they boarded. Y/n always held Nari’s hand when they went places, so they wouldn’t have to worry about her wandering off, but it still made Douxie feel better to go over his tiny mental list and make sure they were both still safe and with him. Archie, he didn’t have to worry about as much. Even if the cat-dragon wandered he’d always come back. He could track Douxie by scent for a hundred miles too. Y/n had a habit of getting lost, though. He had to keep an eye on her. He didn’t need her and Nari off in fairyland where the Order could find and abduct them at any given time.

Douxie’s hair had still been damp when they set off, but the wind took care of that for him. Sure, wind-tousled bangs were in, but not bangs tousled by real wind. He was sure he was rocking it though. He could pass it off as something he did on purpose. People already thought his relatively tame style was outlandish, they’d just think the messy hair was part of the look. His only qualm was Y/n. He didn’t want to embarrass himself to her any further. His Camelot self already inflicted so much damage in that department this week. That moppet with a man bun had messed up spells, quoted sappy poetry to her, bragged about being Merlin’s apprentice, and even tried serenading her with his lute in attempts to impress her. It was mortifying. He had spent the first part of their Camelot adventure distracted by having to keep Y/n away from his younger self. It was not good for the whole ‘save time’ mission. Thankfully, he had Claire there with him, who had agreed to help him once she had buggered the information out of him. Thank Merlin for nosy teen girls. Claire was a godsend.

He had to admit, he was a smidge disappointed that she didn’t bring up the cuddling. Y/n hadn’t even made a joking reference to it in passing. He would have to bring it up then. But when, how? It wasn’t exactly something that would come up in natural conversation.

He watched her, hanging over the ship’s railing again. They passed a field with some cows and she made sure to point at them and say cows. He smiled at that; Y/n always managed to make him smile. He could recall how bad he had felt when Jack left and he thought he was going to have to fire her, his only employee, to keep up with rent. He had asked Zoe if he could put up a flyer in Hextech in a desperate attempt to find someone before that had to happen. And low and behold, among the three answers he got to the ad was miss L/n herself. It was an easy decision really, and it took away the uncertainty since he knew she was someone that he already liked. As a bonus, Y/n didn’t have a familiar of her own that might fight with Archie, because let’s be real, as much as Douxie loved Archie, the dragon-cat wasn’t afraid of stepping on toes. Although, it did feel kind of strange to give Y/n her paycheck and then for her to hand a little more than half of it back to him on rent day. But it just worked.

He remembered the first time he walked by the fridge to see that not only had Y/n added some fridge magnets to the kitchen, but she had taken the time to write a message to him. It, um, was sort of a rude note, meant to tease, an inside joke. Which he thought was funny, he just wished Zoe hadn’t seen it. It was hard to explain, and Zoe never let him hear the end of it. Archie got a kick out of it too. Y/n would switch the message almost daily, and it never failed to make him smile. He still had to deal with his friends seeing them and teasing him about it, but he’d never change her magnet jokes for anything. They would stay there until she replaced them with equally embarrassing messages meant just for him. It felt sweet to know someone was thinking about him enough to come up words meant to make him laugh on a daily basis.

They had just passed by a town called Eureka, which meant they were coming up on St. Louis. Good. Douxie couldn’t wait for lunch. He had the appetite of a winning fat bear these past few days. Probably the stress. That butter cake Y/n had mentioned was sounding so tasty. He could almost smell it. What Douxie hadn’t considered when he agreed to this was that the magic flying ship couldn’t go through metropolitan areas. Well, it could, but it’d be seen. So despite his growling stomach, he wound up taking the ship around the entire concrete jungle of Missouri, staying in the forested areas. He figured he could park the boat over in Illinois, just outside of St. Louis. This added a whole other hour to the trip than he was expecting, but now at least he knew to take large cities into consideration when choosing routes.

After hiding the boat in a heavily wooded area, the four took the bus into downtown. So when Y/n said she wanted to go to an old café from a movie, she had meant a very specific old café from a specific movie. She had told him it wasn’t a big deal and there were plenty of other cafes, but Douxie was gonna get her there by golly. And he did. The happiness written on her face was worth the extra bus miles. And wow, this café had some delicious food. They had salmon, which Archie enjoyed a little more than usual. Said something about paying himself back. As if he paid for anything, being a cat. That St. Louis butter cake did not disappoint. Archie was pretty fond of the cake too. It was too sweet for Nari, though. Y/n savored every bite. Doux watched her, while he ate his own, and it was so cute how smiley this was making her. He’d learn the recipe for this cake so he could make it for her once they got… home.

Douxie was still trying to shake off that depressing thought when Y/n finished up and was already trying to get the move on. Not without getting a picture first, of course. Not satisfied with just the scenery of the café itself, she begged Douxie to pose for her in various spots around it. He obliged, despite his scruffy appearance. She didn’t think he was that scruffy, and what was better than pictures of her favourite person in a cool place she’d always wanted to go. She also snapped one of Archie to post to her cat insta she secretly kept of him. Douxie knew about it, and contributed pictures to it himself, but neither of them were about to tell Archie he was internet famous as archie_the_emo_kitty. These pictures were going to hold good memories in them. All pictures do.

There was one more photo Y/n wanted to get. Silly cliché tourist picture with the gateway arch in the background. She wanted at least one of just her and Douxie, after the group photo. She’d have to somehow get one of Archie too, since she wasn’t about to pass up the chance to make a pun in the caption about Archie being in front of the arch. As she pulled Douxie close to get the picture, she got an idea. She asked him if they could get just one more. He was holding the phone since his arms were longer so he was able to get better angles with them both in it. He agreed, happy to do anything to keep that grin on her face longer. This time, when he leaned down to make their faces closer together, Y/n gave him a kiss on the cheek. The shutter snapped. Look, she wasn’t going to push, but she could nudge. Y/n pulled away and grabbed the phone to look at how it turned out, so cute, and Douxie just stayed there, leaning over, still as a statue, with wide eyes.

“Did you just- k-kiss me?” He didn’t so ecstatic. Maybe she was reading him wrong after all. Okay, time to deny.

“Yeah, it was just a cheek kiss, Doux. It was a cute pose for our picture, see,” She showed him the picture. A perfectly captured moment where they looked so happy. Where her lips would forever be on his still burning face. “Friends do it all the time.”

“Oh. Ah, okay.” That sounded disappointed, and his face wasn’t the picture of joy before, but now he just looked crestfallen. Okay so she wasn’t reading him wrong before. Good to know. She’d,, have to fix this now. She casually grabbed his hand and laced their fingers. That got him looking back up from the ground.

“C’mon, we’ve got about ten minutes to catch the next bus.”

~ ~ ~

Effingham was a quaint place. Y/n had only chosen it for it’s funny name, but it was surprisingly pretty okay. It was home to the world’s largest cross. Which would be cool, for it’s target audience, Y/n supposed. And they had a train depot. Fun. And exactly one singular popular restaurant. Which wasn’t that much more than Arcadia had, Y/n had to give it to them. They were in this tiny little mall, to see about finding some spare clothes. Y/n stopped dead in her tracks to gawk at a store that’s sign identified itself as Rural King. She tugged Douxie’s hand.

“Oh we gotta go in there.”

Douxie took one look at it and shook his head, “Are you really going to drag us into a hunting store just because it has a silly name?”

“No, I guess not,” Y/n took one last look at the place, “Can I at least get a pic of you posing in front of it?”

“Fine.” Douxie suppressed a grin as he complied with her silly request.

Once they got into a real store though, Douxie leaned over to Y/n to tell her something without the clerk hearing. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’ve got an appearance modifier spell I’ve perfected over the years. We’re not actually here to buy anything, just get some inspiration.”

Y/n nodded, fascinated. Well, that’ll take care of the extra spending problems. Now came the fun part, finding a new look for Nari. Speaking of whom, she was over at a rack, trying on those fake fashion glasses without real lenses in them. She looked really cute in every pair she tried on, and they helped obscure her face. Good. She really took a liking to this square tortoiseshell pair. Y/n took a mental note. It was going to be getting cold soon, and plants tend to freeze in the cold, so they took the veggie lady over to go check out the winter coats. Nari picked out a puffer that looked pretty comfy, but she didn’t like that it was red. It reminded her of Bellroc. Douxie assured her that the one he’d make could be any color she liked. Not surprisingly, she wanted it to be green.

Y/n just decided on a simple outfit for herself, consisting of a black and white striped long-sleeved tee, a black short sleeve tee to layer over that, and a classic pair of jeans. It was easy, comfortable, and didn’t draw much attention. A band kid staple too. Nari wanted to be similar to Y/n and also decided on a striped tee and jeans to go under her coat. Now they just needed to find her something to contain that gorgeous head of grass. Y/n glanced over to see Douxie trying on a cap in the hat section. Perfect. They’d make her a hat. It’d be a big hat, but nothing too much.

Douxie actually did buy a couple of backpacks from the shop. Y/n was a bit confused but he told her how for some reason he couldn’t enchant something that was technically an illusion itself so he had to buy physical bags since he wanted to enchant them to be infinite vessels or something. Y/n nodded. This was interesting. She was pretty good at the magic she did know but it was mostly by instinct. No one had really taught her the technical side of it like this. She never really knew how stuff worked, just that it worked. They headed to the dollar store after finishing up with the clothing, which surprisingly, this little mall had in it for some reason. They quickly found all those necessity items they needed and got out of there fast. They were burning daylight after all.

Once back at the boat, greeted by Archie who was glad they came back within a decent time this go around, Douxie got to work. First, he enchanted those backpacks. Y/n watched his every move, fascinated, and taking mental notes. He stuffed the supplies into the bags, making sure each had emergency food and medicine just in case they’d ever get separated. The first aid kits were a great idea, considering he didn’t know much healing magic himself and Y/n could only do a temporary pain relief spell. Having stuff to bandage up wounds in their bags made Douxie feel slightly better.

Y/n filled Douxie in on the specifics of Nari chosen disguise, and he set to work on that. It came out pretty cute. Nari liked her new duds, taking her time to look over herself. Y/n handed the veggie lady her phone with the front facing camera on so Nari could use it as a mirror. She really liked that. Y/n snickered at Nari trying out different angles.

He moved onto Y/n. He didn’t magically fairy godmother her like he did the forest child, he just made her a spare set of clothes to go in that backpack. He made them according to her request, but paused at the tee shirt. “Do you want me to put a logo or something on this?”

Y/n twirled her hair around her finger. “Hmm. I’m thinking, Ash Dispersal Pattern. They’re my favourite band, ever heard of them?”

Douxie laughed as conjured up the tee. He picked one of his favourite designs from past merch. It could be considered vintage now, but it wasn’t that long ago to Doux. He fancied the idea of getting to see her in his merch a lot more now. She did have one of their tee shirts back in the bookstore, but she didn’t wear it often as it was in rotation with other band’s tees. He didn’t have competition anymore, it seems. He grinned as finished up.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, actually. Now that I know you can just magic up clothes for yourself, I would like your hoodie.”

“I can make you a hoodie like thi-“

“No, no, I want the one you’re wearing, thank you. It’s warm and familiar and it smells like you.” She said half-joking, half-serious. “It would make me feel safer.”

Douxie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In fact some part of him thought he may have just daydreamed that. He wordlessly forked over the hoodie. She took it merrily and put it on, giving it a sniff for good measure. Now he really was daydreaming.

“Thank you, Dewdrop!” Oh, he had a pet name now. He’d hadn’t heard that one yet. Frisky people had called him all sorts of strange and embarrassing things over the centuries. But this one was a first. He guessed it was a play on his name. Dewdrop, ay? That was so soft and sweet. A shiny little dewdrop, the first thing you see in the morning. Ah. It seems that miss L/n was plotting to kill him. She was succeeding.

[taegis-gf]

Forbidden - Part 3

Dealer!yoongi x Reader

Warnings ➜ smut, oral (f receiving), non-protected sex, some light choking, some angst and a little fluffy, yoongi got beat up a little :(

Summary ➜ You never meant to lock eyes with the beautiful stranger at Namjoon’s house party, you also didn’t mean to completely fall for him, knowing exactly how dangerous it was.

Word Count ➜ 6.5K

NB: if drug-taking in fics isn’t for you/or makes you uncomfortable, also reader is literally getting with a drug dealer, so if any of this isn't for you  - please don’t read!

Notes ➜ hey. guys hehe i hope u enjoy this im in a little bit of a rut with it as i dont even really know where im taking it yet, thank u for being patient with me and lmk what u think ! also sorry for any spelling errors!!

PART1 | PART2 | PART3

The next few days passed without you hearing a word from Yoongi. You had refrained from texting him, always being too stubborn for your own good, plus he definitely didn’t deserve a text from you, However, from the way he had been ghosting you, you had assumed he probably didn’t even care or notice that you were mad at him.

You had gotten past the sad stage of it all and had now reached anger, what had you been thinking jumping into bed with someone you barely knew? 

It hadn’t felt like that at the time though, you had thought you and Yoongi had a connection.

Why did it feel so right when he was with you, why did you two click so well?

And why the hell couldn’t you stop thinking about him?

He was making your life hard, consuming every thought, you had barely got your essay submitted in time and when you did you were pretty sure it didn’t even make any sense, just a spew of words on a document that you wanted out of your sight so you go back to wallowing in self-pity about some boy.

You admittedly had not left your dorm since Jungkook had spoken to you, that was 2 days ago and you really needed to get Yoongi out of your mind instead of lying in your bed and just thinking. 

You were driving yourself crazy admittedly, and you knew you were being dramatic, it wasn’t like Yoongi even owed you anything, the two of you were only at the beginning of something that didn’t even have a label yet. 

However, you just wanted something even if it was a ‘I never wanna see you again’, at least it would be some sort of closure.

The sound of your phone ringing instantly made you jump, the silence being so harshly interrupted it scared you half to death.

You closed your eyes for a moment before flipping your phone over only to feel major disappointment when you saw it wasn’t Yoongi’s name on your screen.

You answered anyway with a heavy heart.

“Hey Tae, what’s up?” You asked.

“What’s up?! You haven’t responded to me in 3 days, what’s up with you?” He asked, his tone sounded concerned and you could only smile sadly at the compassion your friend seemed to have for you.

“Nothing Tae I’ve just been distracted with work you know?”

You could hear him sighing softly before he spoke again.

“I’m calling to let you know we’re all going over to Joon’s, if you would read the damn groupchat I wouldn’t be calling you.”

You scoffed at the curt tone he used with you but you knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way.

“Joon’s? I’m not really in the mood for a party Tae-“

“It’s not a party,” Taehyung said, cutting you off. “It’ll just be the 7 of us babe. Please come, I miss you.”

“How many time have I told you to stop calling me that?” You asked rolling your eyes at the wall.

“Just say you’ll come? I can even come get you.” Taehyung offered.

You supposed it was better than wallowing in your bed another day.

“Yeah fine okay, I’ll come.” You said.

“Good I’m glad, I’ll come get you in about an hour, get dressed I’ll ring you when I’m outside.”

With a quick 'goodbye' Taehyung hung up and you decided to get up and make yourself look human.

You opted for no makeup and just some simple sweats, you knew you and the guys would probably just be watching a movie so you didn’t see the point in dressing up any more than that, although you couldn’t count how many times a simple hangout had been a ruse to get you to a party.

Taehyung called you again to inform you he was waiting outside, so you quickly grabbed your phone and coat and left your dorm as quick as you could.

When you finally reached outside you saw Taehyung’s car and made a beeline, opening the door and jumping in you plastered a smile on your face hoping it would take away from the prying questions you assumed Taehyung had lined up.

“Hey Tae, thanks for coming to get me, a cab to Joon’s is so fucking expensive and I know I’m super out of the way, so I appreciate it.”

Taehyung scoffed. “Please, you know I would come to get you even if you were 500 miles out of the way, what are friends for?” He stated as he started up the engine.

The drive was silent for the most part, you were surprised as you had expected Taehyung to go into full-blown interrogation mode on why you’d been ignoring everyone, but he didn’t, maybe he was waiting on you coming to him, if that was the case he’d be waiting a long ass time.

As he pulled up and you both went inside your heart warmed at the sight of your friends all talking and laughing with each other, you hadn’t seen them like this in a while and it almost made you tear up.

“Hey guys.” You said as you kicked off your shoes and took a spot on the sofa in between Jungkook and Taehyung as he had decided to follow you and sit wherever you were going.

“Hey Y/N, we all thought you were dead.” Hoseok said as stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth.

Everyone else murmured in agreement with a few sly comments about ignored messages and calls.

You closed your eyes and decided the best thing to do was to state you’d had a lot of work to catch up on and that becoming a recluse was the only way you would get it all finished.

You didn’t miss the way Jungkook side-eyed you but simply chose to not look his way for the sake of saving yourself the judgemental looks about your obvious lying to your best friends.

“Come onnnnnnn. Will someone put on a good horror movie already, and Joon please throw me a beer.” Taehyung called.

Everyone got settled as a movie was picked and the lights were switched off.

That was when your phone decided to vibrate in your pocket.

You slipped it halfway out just trying to glance at the notification and your heart jumped when you saw the name on the screen.

Notification: Yoongi: iMessage(s) 1

You muttered some excuse about needing to pee, and jumped off the sofa to run upstairs, needing to compose yourself before you unlocked your phone.

8:37PM

Yoongi: hey i cant even begin to explain how sorry I am…i understand 100% if you don’t want to speak to me again

You watched as you saw the typing dots disappear and reappear as you stared at your phone. Then another message came through.

Yoongi: i really wanted to call you but i was afraid you’d be too mad and wouldn’t pick up so please if theres even a chance you’ll speak to me again - call me. If u don’t i undertsand and i wont bother you anymore.. i feel so stupid Y/N you don’t deserve this

Your heart was beating at about a million miles per hour as you reread his messages over and over. You had absolutely no idea how to approach this.

You decided now was not the best time to call him, you were just going to have to wait it out and call him when you got back to your dorm.

You decided you’d leave him on read for now, he’d left you waiting for nearly 3 days, he could wait 3 hours for your reply.

As you walked back into the room with your friends you sat beside Taehyung and he let you cuddle up next to him, he began gently playing with your hair as you tried your best to lie down, Jungkook patted his lap as an indication you could spread your legs out and rest them on his own and you smiled as he put an arm over them.

You felt incredibly loved by your friends in that moment, tears threatening to spill as the simple comforts they were providing so naturally to you, meant so much in that moment.

You felt a little guilty at your unwillingness to tell them how upset you were, you trusted them with so much and they trusted you just as equally. But things were confusing for you at the moment and you wouldn’t even know where to start.

You looked up to see Jungkook looking at you with concern, he obviously knew a lot more than the rest of them but he didn’t know just how much Yoongi was affecting you at that particular moment.

You smiled reassuringly at him and he gave your thigh a small squeeze before you both turned back to the movie.

You hadn’t realised just how tired you were until Taehyung was gently shaking you awake, alerting you that the movie was over and even though no one was leaving or anything he offered to bring you home.

You shook your head at his offer telling him you would just get a taxi home and that he should stay and enjoy the rest of the night, he had smiled at you softly asking about 5 times if you were sure and you had laughed excusing yourself to the bathroom before he could argue with you anymore.

You found yourself in the same position, just leaning against the door staring at the messages Yoongi had sent a few hours ago, you felt groggy from the sleep and in your haze you decided that calling him and getting this over with would be the best thing to do, you weren’t thinking clearly, but then again, you never were when it came to him.

As you listened to the ringing tone you began to feel your anxiety building, you weren’t even sure what you were going to say to him or even sure how you felt towards him, yeah sure you were upset but did you even have any right to be mad at him? 

It wasn’t like Yoongi was your boyfriend or anything, he didn’t owe you anything.

He picked up on the third ring an anxious and quick “Hello?” sounded from his end, like he was afraid he was going to miss the call.

“Hey…” You said, unsure of where to go with it.

“Jesus Y/N I am sorry, you must think I’m such an asshole. I wa-”

“Do you like me Yoongi?” You cut him off.

“Wh-what?” Yoongi asked, he sounded unsure, like he was afraid he would say the wrong thing.

“Do you like me?” You asked again, slower.

“Yes of course Y/N, I like you a lot.”

“Okay, do you see me as someone you can just fuck and I’ll come running when you call? Because believe me Yoongi you really are talking to the wrong girl if that’s what you think this is.”

You weren’t sure where your bold attitude was coming from, you suppose you’d been holding in a lot of feelings the past few days regarding the situation, but for some reason, it was coming out as anger and with a hint of sass.

“Jesus – no, no Y/N that is so not what I’m thinking this is, you know that right? Fuck I didn’t mean to leave it so long to talk to you, but there was an emergency and I had to leave town to do something and I only got back tonight and I’m sorry, please know I'm sorry.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, the genuine asking for forgiveness. 

Your knees felt weak and you weren’t sure why but all you wanted was to see him, to tell him it was all okay and you forgive him.

But a part of you wanted to stand your ground, you didn’t want to seem like a pushover who was going to roll over because he sounded like he was sorry, this was only a phone call, you couldn’t even look him in the eyes or anything.

“Can you pick me up and we can talk?” You asked, you wanted to see him, ask him what exactly was going on.

“Yes of course, you’re not at your dorm?” He asked the question harmlessly but you felt he was a little nervous.

“No actually I’m with the guys at Namjoon’s house, I can send you the address if you can’t remember..”

“I remember Y/N. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” 

And with that he hung up, eager to see him - but still feeling cautious - you left the bathroom to tell the guys you were going to wait outside for your taxi.

They all hugged you goodbye and you definitely noticed how Jungkook lingered for that extra few seconds.

He could sense something was wrong with you, but he knew to wait until you came to him with your problems.

As you stood at Namjoon’s garden gate a pair of headlights began approaching slowly and you knew it was him. He stopped outside and you ran to his car door, trying to avoid any of the guys from seeing that it wasn’t just an ordinary taxi you were going home in.

It smelt like a new car inside and you turned to face the driver, he looked over at you with an awkward smile and that’s when you saw the extremely dark black eye that covered his right eye. You covered your hand with your mouth trying not to audibly gasp.

“Yoongi! Oh my god are you okay?” You reached out, wanting to touch his face but realised that wasn’t the best idea before dropping your hand again. 

Your anger at him now replaced with worry, you scanned his face further to see his slightly busted lip as well.

“Y/N, I promise you it’s not as bad as it looks. Can we talk about this when we get to my place?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Your place?” You asked, confused.

“Yeah…only if you want, it’s just that it’s closer to here and I thought you wanted to talk.”

You were nodding, your stomach trying to suppress the nerves that were bubbling up at the idea of going to his place this first time as you also tried to process everything that was already happening.

“Okay, yeah let’s do that.” You said.

Neither of you spoke again the entire ride.

When Yoongi finally pulled up into the carpark of a luxury apartment complex you stared in disbelief. This was where he lived?

He makes a lot of money doing what he does you quickly reminded yourself, suddenly embarrassed at size and quality of your dorm room.

You followed him inside and stopped at the entrance completely in shock at the sheer size and beauty of his apartment. 

You shook yourself, you were here for one thing.

“Take a seat please, Y/N.” He said motioning at the large plush sofa.

You took a seat but watched as Yoongi stood examining you.

“Aren’t you gonna sit?” You asked the atmosphere was tense, awkward, you couldn’t even sense Yoongi’s mood, he was just looking at you, expressionless.

You looked back at him, you were starting to feel frustrated.

“So what? We’re just going to sit here in silence, scratch that, you’ll stand, I’ll sit?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi replied.

“What?” You asked, your eyes shooting up to look at him, you knew he had to be in pain with his eye and you felt a twinge of guilt for being annoyed with him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t call or text, I know I left you in your room like that – after we had just…I’m sorry Y/N.” He sighed heavily, finally taking a seat beside you.

“Just tell me what happened, I’m an understanding person Yoongi, but I don’t think I can do this if you’re just going to keep disappearing on me…”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him now he was closer, you decided the floor was the best place to look at in that moment.

“It was an emergency…it’s stupid, rivalry is a very real thing in this business. I got into a fight with some guy when I went down there. One of my friends was seriously threatened by some people and we had to go down there and deal with it.” He explained, you didn’t want the specifics really and you were glad he wasn’t giving it to you.

“Yoongi…you’re like - I mean - do you really think you’re the best guy for that sort of thing?” You were half teasing him, but also very worried, this wasn’t something that happened a lot, was it?

Yoongi scoffed out a small laugh.

“I’m not usually the guy that handles situations Y/N, I just had to go down there to talk it out with some people.” 

You shuddered, you hated this, hated that this was his life.

Yoongi gently placed a hand on your thigh and you allowed him to keep it there, finally looking back up at him.

“Jesus Y/N, I’m sorry for leaving you like that, I would never do anything like that to you on purpose…please forgive me?” 

You knew he was sorry, you could feel that he was sorry.

You whispered out a soft ‘I forgive you’. 

You knew it was weak of you but you seemed to be at your weakest when Yoongi was looking at you like you meant the world to him.

Yoongi let out a sigh of relief, a small smile on his face, but he winced in pain as the smile opened up the wound on his lip.

“Let me get you something for that.” You said, standing. 

You could use the distraction more than anything as you asked him where the bathroom was and grabbed a damp cloth and some tissue.

You sat down turning your body to face him you lightly dabbed at the wound and cringed a litte in sympathy when he hissed in pain.

“Hold the tissue to it so it doesn’t bleed again.” you said as you folded it up and handed it to him.

“Do you have any ice? It’ll help your eye..” You asked as you went to get up again.

He simply nodded, and pointed to the freezer, allowing you to worry and take care of him.

You sat back down again with a small makeshift ice pack, and told him to lay down so you could place it over his eye, he protested a little but it didn’t take much to coerce him.

“I’m seriously not even in that bad of shape Y/N, you should see the other guy.” He said, laughing a little but then immediately stopping as the pain in his lip stung.

You rolled your eyes at him, knowing he was joking but it did make your stomach twist with nerves at the same time, what if this had been a lot more serious?

When you didn’t speak he reached over for the remote to turn the T.V on, you supposed he couldn’t handle the tense silence you were giving in return for his bad joke.

As he searched about Netflix he spoke again “I have to say, I do think you’d make a pretty sexy nurse.” He joked again and this time you cracked a smile, unable to stop yourself from scoffing out a laugh.

“Are you seriously flirting with me right now?” You asked, sitting back down on his couch you lifted his legs to allow them to rest on your lap, a simple gesture to show him you didn’t completely hate him.

He laughed a little, a genuine laugh and you found yourself laughing too.

“Put a movie on, keep the ice on your eye and shut up!” You said through laughter.

You did end up watching a movie, the night got more and more comfortable as Yoongi decided to order takeout and bring out blankets to the couch. 

As you both cuddled up to each other your hand absent-mindedly playing with his as you watched the movie, it was an incredibly intimate thing to do but it felt so natural you could barely keep the smile off your face.

As the movie was coming to an end you began yawning announcing it was getting late and you should get back to your dorm, but as you made a move Yoongi’s brought his arm around your waist tightly a small ‘don’t go’ escaping from his lips.

You sighed, you wanted to stay over if you were being honest but was it really the best idea?

“I don’t know Yoongi….I don’t even have a change of clothes or anything.”

Yoongi pulled you him closer to him and you let yourself relax into his touch.

“I’ll lend you something to sleep in. Please Y/N. I’ve missed you.”

And with those 3 word’s he didn’t even need to say anymore.

You let out a sigh of content. “Yes Yoongi I’ll stay.”

He got up, asking you to follow him to his room. 

You obliged, following after him to the nearest door. He opened it up and motioned for you to wait on his bed while he found you something comfortable.

You looked around at the unfamiliar room, the first thing you noticed was how clean it was, that was unusual for a guy his age it was simple, his sheets white and his room plain you looked around in awe.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting if you were being honest, but as you were about to comment he was suddenly standing in front of you, a black tee and a pair of basketball shorts in hand.

You smiled up at him “Thank you Yoongi.”

“That door there is the bathroom.” he said pointing to an ensuite inside his own room.

You nodded going in and when you shut the door behind you you let out a long sigh.

You were really going to stay here tonight.

As you got changed you realised the t-shirt he had given you was long enough to ignore the shorts he had given you.

Folding your own clothes and leaving them on top of his wash basket you grabbed your phone for a quick glance before you returned to him.

A notification from Jungkook.

11:12PM

JK: I hope you’re okay you seemed a little off tonight, please remember you can talk to me about anything.

You smiled, feeling your heart swell at the loving message you typed a quick reply with a thank you and lots of heart emojis.

As you left the bathroom you saw Yoongi awkwardly standing like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He looked up at you and you saw him eyeing your body, his eyes travelling up your bare legs, you felt the heat of his gaze taking you all in and you couldn’t help but revel in the feeling that you had that effect on him.

“I’ll – um – take the couch, you sleep here.” You could tell he was distracted over your lack of clothes but he cleared his throat and began to leave.

“Yoongi.” You called and stopped him in his tracks.

“Thank you for being such a gentleman.” You giggled.

You heard him scoff a laugh before walking out of the room, some sort of pyjamas in hand.

So here you were, left alone in Min Yoongi’s bedroom.

You werent exactly sure what you should be doing, should you just go to sleep?

As if it were that easy…

You felt giddy as you got under the covers, his bed was huge compared to your single in your dorm.

You tried to relax and calm a little remembering you were technically meant to be trying to sleep, you reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, shrouding yourself in darkness.

You decided to scroll through your phone for a while trying to think about other things and definitely not how badly you wanted to go out there and ask Yoongi to come back.

Your intentions weren’t even of a sexual nature, you simply just wanted him to lay with you, you wanted to fall asleep in his arms – something you hadn’t got the chance to do yet.

After about 20 minutes of tossing and turning and checking every social media platform you decided to take a deep breath and just go ask him, you were nervous that he wouldn’t even want to but then again he was letting you stay in his room after all.

You slowly tiptoed across the floor, afraid in case he was already sleeping you quietly opened the door.

You realised you couldn’t even tell with as you could only see the back of the couch and not his form, you decided to half shout half whisper, praying he was awake anyway.

“Yoongi!”

He head came into view as he sat up from the couch, looking wide awake and a little confused.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, a look of concern crossing his features.

“Yeah…” You realised just how shy and nervous you actually felt as you continued speaking. 

“Will you come sleep beside me Yoongi please?”

You saw a small smile appear on his face, “Of course, I’m super glad you asked, I wanted to ask but I thought you would see it as creepy or something.”

You rolled your eyes smacking him on the shoulder as he got closer.

“Your whole dick has been inside me but you think cuddling is as the creepy thing to offer?!” You asked, eyes widening in shock a little.

Yoongi held his hands up in defence as he followed you to the bed both of you climbing in on either sides.

“I don’t know…” He trailed off looking at you as you now lay beside one another.

“I guess I thought you were still mad at me.”

You sighed a little and looked at him scanning his face and frowned a little at the black eye that adorned his beautiful features.

“I hate that someone hurt you Yoongi.” You said, you hadn’t really meant to say it aloud.

Both your faces were close looking at each other in comfortable silence, a small pout forming on his lips at your statement he leaned in and gave you the smallest of pecks, it was so sweet and tender you felt like you heart was going to beat out of your chest as heat formed across your cheeks.

“Let’s go to sleep Y/N.”

You nodded, leaning in a little closer to him and shutting your eyes after whispering a soft ‘goodnight’.

*

You woke up feeling too hot, far too hot. As you took in your surroundings and remembered where you were you smiled at the reason for your warmth, realising Yoongi had pulled you in and draped his arm over your waist in the middle of the night. You felt comfortable in his arms, having one of the best sleeps you’ve had in a long time, your worries felt at ease for once and you just simply felt in the moment with him.

You slowly shifted until you were turned to face him, he pouted a little in his sleep at the disruption and you couldn’t help but smile harder, placing a soft kiss on his pout you watched as his eyes fluttered open slowly, confusion on his face as he tried to take in what sensation had just woken him up.

He smiled when he saw you looking at him, stretching his limbs and letting out a long yawn.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked.

“Mmmm yes I did, I really like waking up next to you…” He said, his handing tracing absent-minded patterns on your arm.

“Me too…” You trailed off feeling a little sad that this wasn’t going to be a permanent thing.

“Your eye looks a little better, I think it’s starting to heal.” You said reaching out to touch his face gently.

“Hm you don’t think it’s sexy? Like in a 'wow I’m a big sexy bad boy' way?.” 

You couldn’t roll your eyes hard enough turning away from him only to have him whine and pull you back to face him.

“Yeah that whine sounds so bad boy.” You said giggling as he pulled you closer and began kissing your neck.

“Hmmmm, you smell amazing.” He said nuzzling further into your neck with a groan.

You felt yourself begin to grow a little hot at the noise, his lips leaving a hot trail down to your collarbone.

You let out a pleased noise.

“Hmm you like that baby?” He asked beginning to move his body so he was hovering over yours, his mouth kissing lower.

You let out a noise of approval feeling too hot and worked up to speak.

His hands found your hips and he slowly pushed up the t-shirt you were wearing his hands gliding along your warm skin.

As he pushed it up further you helped him, pulling it off you completely leaving you in only your underwear.

Yoongi let out a groan at the picture of your almost naked body in front of him resting his forehead on your stomach trying to compose himself for a moment as the mere sight of you was making him go a little crazy.

You let out a whine “Yoongi do something. Please.”

He looked back up at you a smirk on his face, “Now who’s whining babe?”

You let out a scoff quickly followed by a sharp gasp as his mouth latched onto your nipple.

His tongue teasing and sucking you could feel the wetness pooling at your core.

You wanted to squeal a little, the frustration of how teasingly slow he was going was making you feel crazy.

As he took his time, making sure to kiss every inch of your body by the time he got close to where you needed him most you were a writhing mess.

“Yoongi please.” You gasped out when he kissed the inside of your thigh, merely a few centimetres away from you soaked panties.

“Tell me what you want baby. I’ll give it to you.” He said planting another soft kiss even closer this time.

You suddenly felt a little embarrassed, you don't think you’d ever begged to get your pussy ate before.

“I want…your tongue on me, fuck please.” You breathed out, hardly able to think straight.

Yoongi put his hands to the hem of your panties silently asking you to raise your hips and you did allowing him to pull them off.

You let out a yelp when Yoongi pushed your thighs further apart so he had a full view of your leaking core.

You let out a low whine of embarrassment trying to close your thighs a little but Yoongi had a strong grip.

“Sorry I’m staring, your pussy is beautiful though…” 

You immediately brought your hand up to your face not believing the words coming out of his mouth.

“Yoongi shut up!” You said from behind your hands.

Yoongi laughed a little bringing his head down, you nearly moaned at the feeling of his breath on your core.

“Please.” Was all you whispered out, so beyond desperate for some sort of relief you were clenching around nothing.

Yoongi’s tongue slowly licked up until he started slowly licking at your clit,  giving it all his attention.

You moaned, absolutely in bliss at the feeling, but you needed something more.

“Yoongi your fingers please…”

His cock twitched at that, hardening further at your words, did you know what you were doing to him?

He happily obliged, slowly slipping a finger inside you, pumping in and out before adding a second, stretching you out further.

As he kept up his assault on your clit, you didn’t think you’d ever felt an orgasm approach you this fast before, the familiar pressure building in record time.

“Yoongi oh my god – I think – I think I’m gonna come, please don’t stop, please.”

As he listened, knowing you were close he picked up the pace, pumping his fingers faster and sucking on your clit a little bit harsher.

“Fuck!” You half yelled along with a moan, turning your head to the side and closing your eyes as you let your orgasm wash over you, your whole body felt heavy as you came down, the whole time Yoongi’s tongue never left you slowly working you through it.

“Yoongi.” You said, breathing heavily. “Get back up here.”

You turned back as he slowly moved back up so his face was facing yours again a smile on his face.

You placed your hands on either side of his face, feeling like your heart could burst at the sight of the man in front of you, pulling his face to yours so you could kiss him rather than say something stupid.

Yoongi groaned a little as his hard-on brushed against you, he must’ve been in need of some serious relief.

You felt an immediate pulse of fresh pleasure at the thought of him getting hard at the action of eating you out.

“Yoongi…want…you to fuck me.” You said between short kisses.

Yoongi smirked at you.

“Really?” He asked feigning innocence and you honestly could’ve rolled your eyes at his teasing if you weren’t so turned on.

“Yes baby please, want you to fuck me so hard Yoongi and I know your big dick will fill me right up.” You said trying to sound as seductive as possible, you could play this game if he wanted too.

Yoongi just stared for a second as his brain buffered not believing the filth coming from you.

“Fuck.” Was all he said as he began kissing your neck again and this time you felt him fishing his cock out of his underwear.

Lining up at your entrance, he stopped just short of pushing in.

“Tell me how bad you want it baby and I’ll give it to you.”

Fuck he was going to be the death of you.

“Yoongi please, I need you so bad, need you to fill me up…”

And with that, he plunged into you bottoming out immediately.

You gasped at the pressure, your head falling back and your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head.

“Jesus fuck!” You yelled as he continued thrusting at such a relentless pace he had to grab you by the hips to stop your body from moving farther up the bed.

“Tell me what you want baby… harder, faster?” He asked, his breathing laboured as he tried to keep his pace up.

“Fuck yes oh my god I’ll come so fast like this.” You said your voice practically vibrating with how hard he was fucking you.

“Yeah?” He said his hand moving further up your body he stopped just short of your throat eyeing you up.

You had a feeling he was little too nervous to ask what he wanted but you knew just what was on his mind and you loved the idea.

“Yoongi choke me.” You gasped out.

“Please choke me a little, please? It’ll feel so good.”

Yoongi’s hip stuttered a little at your words his eyes widening in shock, he nearly came right there breathing deep, trying to compose himself.

“Yeah? Are you sure?” He asked.

You nodded like a crazy woman. “Yes.” You breathed out, not finding any more energy to speak, you could feel your orgasm coming.

His hand slowly snaked up your body until it was resting at your neck he slowly wrapped his fingers around it, applying light pressure.

“Baby... you need to tell me if it’s too much okay?”

You nodded at him again.

His fingers squeezed a little harder as he began fucking in you again as lightning speed.

You closed your eyes letting him choke and fuck you however he wanted, you were in a state of bliss as the familiar knot in your stomach was so close to snapping.

He didn’t choke you too hard always alternating between some pressured squeezes and releasing again.

“Feels so good.” You said when he eased up his pressure for a while.

“You wouldn’t believe how fucking hot you look like this baby…all spread out for me you’re so dirty baby, tell me... do the guys know what a little slut you are?”

Fuck.

You shook your head no.

“God if they could see you like this I think they would never recover.”

You weren’t sure where it came from but for a moment you pictured your 6 best friends watching you, and it sent you right over the edge.

“Yoongi I’m coming fuck, I’m coming!” You said as one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had tore its way through you.

Your core spasmed uncontrollably as you moaned, bringing Yoongi over the edge with you.

“Jesus christ.” He breathed out as he gathered up some strength to pull out of you and roll over to your side.

You laughed out loud as you turned to face him, unable to think straight you said the first thing that came to mind.

“That black eye still makes you look like a dumbass.”

It was Yoongi’s turn to laugh as you both tried to get your breathing under control.

“Come on, let’s get in the shower.”

*

You and Yoongi spent the rest of the day lazing around in his bed kissing and laughing, you had even given him a quick blowjob when you’d both gotten a little too handsy once again.

You didn’t think you could feel this way with someone but the absolute ease and comfort you felt being with him was indescribable.

As you both lay in his bed watching Netflix – although there wasn’t much watching – you heard the front door knock.

“Babe it must be the pizza, go open the door while I grab cash so he doesn’t leave.”

“I'm indecent!” You whined only wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

“Go give him a show!” He said winking at you as he went in search of his wallet.

You rolled you eyes getting up anyway not risking the delivery person getting fed up and actually leaving.

As you got to the door you made sure the t-shirt was pulled as far down as it would go.

You opened the door and swung it open “Hi can you wait –“

You froze.

“Y/N?” 

Your eyes widened in shock.

You were standing face to face with none other than Jin.

[justsomefluff]

Can we have a reaction for Ateez finding their s/o sleeping in random places, like the kitchen floor or a cabinet, under the bed? Please and thank you!

A/N: This is so funny to me because I relate so heavy no lie.

Hongjoong:

Okay, so basically

You fall asleep on the couch, waiting for Joong to get home so you could go to dinner together

At some point during your little nap, you fall off of the couch and onto the floor

The only real problem with this is that you are right underneath the lamp

So, the only logical solution to this new problem is to roll under the coffee table

Which you do, and then just fall asleep again, no biggie

When Joongie finally gets home he calls for you like always

Totally expects you to come running, excited for dinner

But, alas, you do not

So, he spends about an hour looking for you all over the place

Kinda starting to freak out

Ends up standing in the living room and pounding your number into his phone

After the first ring, he hears your phone going off in the same room

and then a very loud thud followed by some less than polite vocabulary

He looks down at you, wiggling your way out from underneath the table and stretching for your phone

You notice him, and it’s kinda awkward for a second

you kind of feel like you were caught doing something you shouldn’t be

“Hey” 

“hey…”

Then Hongjoong is laughing

like full falling over in tears laughter

Like how dare you judge me for sleeping where I am safe from the light

After he finds his composure, he just tells you to get up so you can get food

And you do, and he doesn’t mention it again

Not in words anyway

But if ever he can’t find you, he always checks under the coffee table first

Seonghwa:

(PRETTY BABYYYYY)

Okay so Seonghwa was gonna be home in about 2 minutes based on his text

So, you decide to try and scare him

Knowing he typically goes to the kitchen first, you situate yourself in a cupboard

There’s literally a pan handle up your ass, but it’s worth it for the prank

Seonghwa’s 2 minutes quickly turn into a half hour

You’ve fallen asleep by then since you had been sitting still for too long

When your boyfriend finally gets home, he’s already shouting apologies into the front hall

“THERE WAS SO MUCH TRAFFIC”

just his excuse to complain no lie

As predicted, he goes straight into the kitchen, still ranting about his day

fully expects you to join him at some point

Did not expect that you would be crawling out from the cabinet though

You heard him yelling once he got into the kitchen and you were like “I guess it’s too late now”

You push the cupboard door open… straight into his shins

“AH OW WTF”

he jumps about 10 feet

so I guess the prank kind of worked??

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

you just kinda shrug, still a little groggy and sore from being in such a weird position

“were you asleep?”

you nod and yawn and then all of a sudden he’s soft

Scoops you up and plops you on the couch for cuddles

Will definitely make you answer his burning questions later but he’s feeling all snuggly now so it can wait

Yunho:

(Barefaced Yunho im in tears)

When Yunho comes home after work, having stopped and picked up ice cream because he felt he deserved it (AND HE DOES)

Struts around the house with the ice cream balanced on one hand

Hoping to find you and make you laugh

Cannot. Find. You. Arm. Getting. Tired.

Finally puts his arm down, totally defeated

Wanders through the different rooms before he catches a glimpse of your socked foot peeking out from behind the couch

Leans over and sees you fully tucked in, blankets and pillows everywhere

Knocked OUT

He gingerly steps over the couch… jk he tripped

Falls on you

You scream because 1) scary 2) ow

He’s stuttering apologies but also laughing his booty off

Asks what you are doing back there in the first place

“wanted to make a fort but got sleepy”

“FORT FORT FORT”

demands that you get up and help him finish making it

“I’LL GET THE SNACKS”

eventually, he returns with basically the entire fridge

then you set up a movie and snack together and its so cute but then you both end up passing out anyway because the fort is just the comfiest

Yeosang:

ok one thing I will say about Yeosang is I feel like he can pretty much fall asleep anywhere too so he’s not gonna judge you

how you ended up falling asleep on the bathroom counter may remain a mystery forever

you vaguely remember climbing up on it to get a better look at a zit or some other blemish you wanted to get rid of, but after that who knows

Yeosang rushes into the house after work

literally screaming that he’s gonna pee his pants

Runs into the bathroom and slams the door

Scares you and you almost slip off the counter and onto the tile floor

“GET OUT I NEED TO PEE”

you’re barely awake and he’s screaming at you

so confusing but you just kind of waddle out the door and fall into bed

you wait for him to finish and he comes out with a smile

“I’m better now”

“you woke me up you dramatic idiot”

“what do you mean? I didn’t wake you up, you were in the bathr- OHhhh”

You just kinda pout at him and he comes and sits next to you

strokes your hair for a little bit

You’re almost asleep and he can tell

“LETS EAT”

“KANG YEOSANG I SWEAR TO GOD”

and then you’re chasing him around

he is fearing for his absolute life

like he’s gonna suffer the wrath of a thousand suns for waking you up twice

boy better PRAY

San:

In the morning, San had woken you up and coaxed you out of bed with the promise of coffee

he did not tell you that he did not yet go and get the coffee

So, when he skips out the door to pick up your drinks, you literally just drop to the floor in front of the welcome mat

Like I’m sleeping and I don’t care where I just need it

And it was actually a pretty good morning nap until San almost knocks your nose off your face when he swings the door open

At first, he’s kinda worried like… “you good”

And you just scold him for almost killing you with the door

“Not my fault you chose to sleep on the floor. I got your coffee”

Thrusts it into your face

the only thing more bitter than your face is the drink

“you almost killed your sweet sweet baby aren’t you sorry?”

“it’s you’re fault in the first place”

and I mean he’s kinda right but he’s the reason you’re tired

waking you up early with lies… coffee wasn’t even ready yet

so you have a good natured squabble about your sleeping habits and San’s door-opening habits before coming to an agreement

You can only sleep in front of the door when he’s already home

And he can swing the door open with as much dramatic flare as he wants… as long as he can see you are clearly not within range

a perfect compromise imo

Mingi:

Mingi is such a dork okay

when he finds you curled up in front of the oven he starts laughing really loud

shakes you awake because he just has to know what you think you’re doing

You explain, patiently, that you are waiting for your brownies to finish, and that the oven is really warm

Mingi will just nod in agreement and be like “of course, of course. you’re so smart, jagiya”

Gets up and leaves you there for a minute but then returns

He has more pillows and an extra blanket

He also brought your laptop so you could watch a movie

He pulls you into his lap after he sits himself on top of some pillows

Covers both of you in the blankets and then makes you hold the computer on your lap

You fall asleep again within 10 minutes, and although he’s getting sleepy he’s like

Someone has to make sure the house doesn’t burn down

Mingi should not be in charge of this and we all know it

But what can he do?

So he watches the movie for a while before the timer on the oven finally goes off

You snap awake so quickly that Mingi jumps a little

“MY BROWNIES ARE DONE”

and then you eat brownies and cuddle some more

But Mingi is not allowed to have as many brownies as you because you did all the work in the first place so TAKE THAT

Wooyoung:

(hIS SMiLe)

When Wooyoung gets out of the shower after a long day and finds you… not in bed where you should be

He pouts…like a lot

Wanders around for a while

Almost gives up when he catches a glimpse of the hoodie (his hoodie) that you’re wearing

Opens the closet door…was kinda scared not gonna lie lmao

Then he’s LOUD

laughing at you like a crazy person

Screaming at you through his laughter

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING? WHY ARENT YOU IN BED? HOW ARE YOU SLEEPING HERE?”

“WOOYOUNG TAKE IT DOWN LIKE 18 OCTAVES, KID”

whispers, “sorry”

asks you again what you were doing 

you just kind of look at him because, to be honest, you don’t really know either

just experimenting with some new bedding, I s’pose

He drags you out of the closet by your heels and forces you into bed where he cuddles you close

you can still feel his chest vibrating from all of the giggling

He never gets over this

every time he finds you sleeping in a new spot, he’s like “FIRST THE CLOSET NOW THIS”

Jongho:

Jongho gets protective when he finds you sleeping in weird places

He doesn’t want you to wake up stiff from being in awkward positions and everything

So when he finds you dead asleep on top of the kitchen table, he is less than surprised

Like he knows you’re a whole ass meal but seriously?

But also lifts you and walks you over to the couch

Sets you down and then just stares at you like a creeper until you wake up

When you do, he’s scolding you straight away

“You’ll hurt your back”

“what if you fell”

“MY GOD WE EAT THERE”

And then you’re laughing because even he knows he’s being dramatic and he always is when you do things like this

“thank you for moving me to the couch, Jongho”

he huffs but he’s like “you’re welcome”

Always tries to make you promise not to sleep in such strange places anymore

“What you do in practice, you’ll do in the game”

“What does that even mean”

“One day we will go out to dinner and then you’ll probably just get on the table and sleep or something”

So dramatic, but he really loves you and everything he says is just out of worry

But every time he scolds you, you both end up laughing at each other 

And he secretly has a folder on his phone titled “where is y/n sleeping today?”

[taexual]

HOLIC - 46 | jb x reader

pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au

warnings: angst + some conflict resolution

words: 3k

disclaimer: i do not own the gif, please let me know if it belongs to you, so i can give proper credit

           prev / next

You’d left a hundred voicemails. You'd called a thousand times. You’d sent a million texts. And yet, even despite your ruthless ambush, Jaebum – in an equally as ruthless manner – still did not reply to you. That was understandable, however, and, more than expected, really – but it still brought you great distress.

You didn’t know where he was and, after having stayed awake the entire night, trying to get ahold of him and waiting for him to return home, you suddenly weren’t too sure where you were, either. Your own room felt foreign and the apartment itself lost all of its’ familiarity.

Finally, at around five in the morning (or, in other words, about five centuries later), your phone rang with a text from Jaebum. You nearly gave yourself whiplash as you leaped from your spot on the bed to reach your phone that you’d left charging across the room.

His text was short and right to the point – he was simply letting you know he was with his friend – but the very fact that he had texted you lifted some of the heaviness off your shoulders. There was plenty more of it still there, though, and you crouched down, hugging your knees to your chest as you re-read Jaebum’s text message another dozen times.

You wanted to call Mark and Jackson to see if he was with them but then you paused. Jaebum obviously needed some space – and time – right now. And, although you felt like he’d left the apartment a long while ago, it was obviously not long enough.

You were dying to explain yourself but you also recognized that he needed to be away from you for a little while longer. The text he’d sent you sparked a new hope that this period of you and him being away from each other wouldn’t last long. You just had to endure it without losing your mind completely. The text had to mean that he knew you cared about him – even despite what you’d done – and he didn’t want you to crawl out of your skin with worry – even if that was precisely what you’ve been doing since he’d left – which, in turn, had to mean that he cared about you, too. But you knew that already – you didn’t need his text to show you that; his reaction when you told him about Jiho was proof enough.

You’d postponed the conversation so you wouldn’t hurt Jaebum and, predictably, you ended up doing so anyway.

Giving him some space was the right thing to do now, so you let him be. Until, a few hours later, you couldn’t take it anymore. It had started to feel like the more space you were giving him, the more place you left for his doubts to take over him. Soon, there would be no space left in his mind to hear you explain what had happened in the past few weeks.

But, just like before, no matter how much you called or texted, Jaebum didn’t answer. Shortly, he turned his phone off altogether. The phone could have died, of course, but still, hearing the operator announce that the person you were trying to reach was unavailable felt very personal. It felt like he’d turned his phone off specifically to avoid seeing your name on his screen.

You knew you called this upon yourself by not telling him earlier but knowing didn’t make this easier. If anything, the guilt you were feeling only seemed to magnify whenever you allowed yourself to think about how easily this could have been avoided.

Jaebum didn’t return home the whole night—this wasn’t the first Sunday night you’ve spent awake but it certainly was the most significant one—and, although your heart had already torn itself into the smallest pieces, you resisted and gave him the space he needed. You still called periodically and left as many messages as you could before your service provider got concerned, but you weren’t going out of your way to get him to respond to you.

By Monday afternoon, you were really only leaving him voice messages so he'd know that you really did care about him and you were aware of how big of a mistake you’ve made by not talking to him about this sooner.

By Monday night, however, you’ve started to have auditory hallucinations and lost count of how many times you thought you’d heard the lock of your apartment door click. Choosing to wait until nighttime, in case Jaebum would choose to return home after all, you sat patiently in your kitchen, doing anything and everything to keep your gaze from shifting to the door.

You wondered if Jaebum would have admired your loyalty – he’d have certainly called you clingy and, perhaps, even compared you to a dog waiting for its’ owner to come home – or if he’d have hated to know that you were still waiting for him to return even after what you’ve done. Frankly, you didn’t spend all of this time sulking – you got angry a couple of times, too. Sometimes, you’d think you didn’t do anything wrong – really, nothing happened between you and Jiho; you were just working on your career in the only way that was possible – but, immediately after, you’d find yourself admitting that this wasn’t even the real problem here.

Jaebum didn’t really storm out of your apartment just because you were working with Jiho and he hated the guy. He left because you worked with Jiho behind his back, purposefully dodging his questions about your work just so you wouldn’t have to admit the truth. Even after giving you a fair amount of openings – not that you needed an excuse to share the events of your day with him, considering your relationship status – you still stayed quiet, choosing vague words and plain silence as a way to answer his questions. It was a form of defense in a way and, consequently, a form of lying.

While you listened to Jaebum give you breakdowns of his day and updates on his career, you did not reciprocate and secretly cherished his carefulness – how many times did you thank God that Jaebum was so understanding and so willing to ignore your unusual behavior? – and that was so much worse than just lying about Jiho to him.

When your alarm clock rang the next morning, you got out of bed with a definite plan – you would seek both Mark and Jackson out to see if Jaebum was staying with either of them and you would do anything in your power to talk to him and explain. You could only give him space to think for so long before you drowned in your own thoughts and watched him to drown in his.

Before you could follow your plan – although, perhaps calling it a plan was generous; you really had no idea what you were going to say to his friends if they even agreed to help you – you still had to get through a full day of work at the gallery.

Having always dreaded to see Jiho there, you didn’t really expect today to be any different but a surprise awaited you on your phone when you picked it up to check the time after exiting your car outside of your gallery. It was a text notification from Hyojin, warning you about an article, evidently recounting the photography event you and Jiho had gone to on Friday night. Your stomach sunk before you even opened it, completely disregarding the message your friend wrote before she attached the link.

Instead of reading Jiho’s recap of the event – he’d sworn he would use your pictures for it but you ended up not taking any – you were forced to read through another pile of tabloid-like garbage that, predictably, focused completely on your relationship with Jiho.

Now, on the one hand, the article proved that Jiho’s publicity stunt was a complete success – you nearly suffocated when you saw a picture of yourself leaving the gallery and Jiho storming off after you, an ominous “young photographer couple” written in the description of the shot; clearly, you and him have been noticed – but, on the other hand, not a single sentence in the entire article even mentioned your aspiration to become a successful photographer.

Not only did the writers – tipped off by Jiho, no doubt – assumed that you and him were together but they also allowed themselves to speculate if, perhaps, you and him were going to be the next big artist-and-his-muse names in the world of photography. They even went as far as to compare you and him to Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick – which was right on point, considering that Edie was, really, one of many Warhol’s muses – further proving that they didn’t even consider you a photographer. At least, not in the literal sense of the word – they saw the camera in your hands and pointed it out in the description of another photograph of you by the entrance to the gallery. But Jiho was “the photographer” and, according to the writers, in the relationship hierarchy, you were either Jiho’s apprentice (the writers dismissed the possibility after merely toying with it for a sentence of two) or his muse. Not his colleague. Not a photographer. Barely even a person, really.

Beyond frustrated, you walked through the double doors of the gallery and, before you could toss your phone across the empty foyer, you caught sight of Jiho, talking to someone on the phone next to the staircase. You really considered strangling him for a hot minute but, after taking a few deep breaths, you decided to handle this like an adult – or, as close to one as you could get with your blood boiling and pulse pounding in your ears.

“Did you fucking read this?” you demanded as soon as you reached him, pushing your phone to his face. “This is the second god-damn time this happens.”

“Wh—I’m—l-let me call you back,” Jiho said before hanging up the call and putting his phone away so he could focus on yours. He squinted as he read the headline. “Oh, so we’ve definitely been seen, huh? That’s good.”

“That’s not good,” you disagreed. “And we were not seen at all. You were. I was your shadow if even that. Again!”

Jiho wasn’t listening to you as his eyes continued to scan the contents of the article.

“Your little stunt of leaving early worked out nicely, too,” he added in regards to the last bit of the article that recounted, in epic little detail, how you left the event early and Jiho “followed right after like a love-sick puppy”.

“It wasn’t—Jesus, how much money did you pay to get them to write this bullshit?” you asked, retrieving your phone after noticing that it didn’t bring the expected result – not that you knew what you were expecting; it was hard to imagine Jiho doing something other than grinning like a deformed jack-o-lantern.

“You think I paid for this?” Jiho’s eyebrows reached his hairline. “Wow, you must think I’m a millionaire.”

“What are you talking about? You knew so many people who were there—”

“So, I talked to them,” he said as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. Probably rolled his eyes, too, but you weren’t looking at him – you were reading the article and further fueling your anger. “I mean, some damage control had to be done, you caused quite a fuss there. I tried to give the others the impression that—”

“This is your fault, then!” you cut him off with a high-pitched shriek that he seemed to flinch away from.

“I’m not sure I understand what I’m being accused of, here,” he said as calmly as he could. The calmness was a façade, as you’ve already learned, and the veins on his neck were becoming more prominent by the second. “We needed exposure and we got it. What’s the problem?”

“What kind of exposure is this? You told me this wouldn’t seem like a romantic relationship. That they would focus on our professional relation instead of twisting it around to make it seem like—”

“Professional relationships don’t sell nearly as well as—”

“Sell?” you scoffed. “What are these people buying, exactly? That you’re a photographer? Well, they knew that already, I would hope. Or you’ve surely wasted the past years of your life.”

“Right—”

“There’s not really much else in there about me. Except that I’m—”

Seemingly having had enough of your endless tirade, Jiho crossed his arms over his chest, cutting you off, “maybe if you wanted there to be more descriptions of you, you shouldn’t have left early.”

“Oh, so they could have taken more pictures of us to strengthen their narrative of us being romantically involved? No. That’s not okay,” you shook your head, finding it difficult to voice your thoughts rationally and not start screaming. Screaming would have felt so nice. “These articles… they’re not helping anyone but you. Next week, they can write one about you and some other “muse” you’ve brought to a photography event. No one will give a shit about me. I agreed to do this to get myself more exposure as a photographer. Instead, I’m just a new toy you can play around with to get yourself more well-known.”

“Listen, you have this warped sense of how this works,” Jiho said. His patronizing voice made you clench your fists. “These things take time. You think you’ll get popular overnight—”

“Don’t tell me what I think!” you yelled, your patience wearing thin.

“Okay, alright. I’m sorry,” he said, not sounding one bit apologetic. He just felt like he was winning because you were suddenly shouting and he was still successful at resisting to raise his voice. “Let’s not talk about this here—”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes for a second or two – purely a precaution so you wouldn’t punch him and get yourself fired – even if you were already one step away from quitting – and probably arrested.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you said then. “This is the last article depicting me as someone’s rumored girlfriend.”

Jiho didn’t seem surprised to hear this.

“See, that’s good because, actually, I’m having second thoughts about this, too,” he said, the bitter tone of his voice dripping with arrogance and entitlement. “Clearly, you’ve got it in your head that you’re in a position to demand an exhibition when you’re virtually nothing in the photography world. You don’t listen to a single word I say and you have enough guts to give me ultimatums as if you know how this works better than I do. I don’t know who you think you are but this is not how any of this works. All I did was try to help you—”

You thought you could only recall one other instance when you felt this frustrated – and more than ready to either rip all of your hair out or to beat Jiho to a pulp – and that was when you met up with Suji and had to listen to her boast about her happy relationship with Jaebum. My God, what a pair her and Jiho would have made – both bull-headed, arrogant, and so unbelievably thick, it was a miracle they’ve gotten this far in life without getting all of their teeth knocked out.

“This was no help for me,” you said through clenched teeth and then unlocked your phone to see the headline of the article again. You pointed your phone at him as proof. “This was all for you.”

“It was meant to help both of us and the gallery we represent—”

“Oh, open your fucking eyes, the gallery’s not even mentioned in the article,” you groaned.

Jiho swallowed, an undeniable – and very well-executed – image of someone who felt wronged and disrespected evident on his face.

“This isn’t working,” he stated, then, obviously taking immense pleasure in having the ability to say this. He knew he was above you in this situation and he relished it. “I’ve lost count of how many rules listed in the contract you’ve broken and yet I closed my eyes, thinking it’d be worth it. I don’t really think so anymore. I think you’re too full of senseless pride and I’m afraid I can’t work with that. You told me you’d quit if we didn’t host your exhibition and, admittedly, that caught me off-guard and, perhaps, even impressed me. But I can see everything clearly now – you’re absolutely not the sort of artist we’re looking for.”

“What sort of artists are you looking for?” you asked, your blood hot and about to pour out of your ears in rapid squirts of burning rage. “Pushovers, willing to follow you around like newborn puppies? Fresh, vulnerable university graduates who lack the spine to tell you that what you’re doing is preying on their lack of experience and using them to your own gain?”

“I’m sorry if that’s how you feel,” Jiho said. “Unfortunately, this partnership is over. Don’t worry about the contract anymore. We’re not going to be hosting your—”

“Oh, good! Perfect!” you shouted before he could finish. “I never wanted to work with you in the first place.”

You turned around, walking away, but Jiho couldn’t resist not having the last word. He simply felt too proud to let you leave this easily.

“Hopefully you’ll continue to feel that way,” he called out after you, “because you can forget all about your dream of hosting your own exhibition.”

You didn’t want to turn around and say something else because it felt like admitting defeat but you couldn’t resist it. You’ve still had a few things you’ve always wanted to say to him and now was finally the time to stop holding yourself back.

“Fuck you,” you dropped over your shoulder, your expression – finally – calm. “And fuck that exhibition. That’s not what my dream is.”

       chapter directory

[pbandjesse]

Shockingly I did not start my new job today! Okay not super shocking. Its gross outside. I will honestly be surprised if they open tomorrow. They already told me they are for sure having a two hour delay. But I will be surprised if the roads get clear enough to safely have people come in. I sat near the window all day and they barely cleared the roads.t was a weird day for weather. 

I slept alright though. I had trouble falling asleep but I slept okay enough. One of the issues I had though was my nose hurt. Its not even the inside, it feels like I have a bruise. It sucks. It would be alright for most of the day but by the late afternoon I would have to sleep because it hurt and it made me exhausted. 

But today was a really good day. I woke up and was really tired. But as soon as the Y texted me that they were closed I was like. Bet! And was completely awake. Which made me laugh. 

I went and got dressed. I felt cute but also sort of a mess. Ah well. I am attempting differnt methods for curling your hair in your sleep and I didnt like the wrap one I tried last night, I felt like it just made my hair flat. Like it was curled at the bottoms, but it was flat everywhere else. Not worth it. On to the next one. 

I had a good day though. I would work on knitting loom a lot again. Not as much as yesterday. My wrist hurt so I didnt do as much. But I did finish one whole sleeve! I am really excited about it and I did start the second one. But there is still a lot of work to go into it before I can attach them. But Im pretty excited. 

I would mostly just be in bed working on this loom and watching the snow. There was also some little hail and ice. I felt real cozy. I watched documentaries on youtube and made my sleeve and it was a really nice day. 

Jess was getting tattooed today so I was texting with her. They got a lot more snow up there so I was worried about her getting there and back but it seemed to go well and the 3 tattoos she got are beautiful so Im happy for her. 

I would take some breaks for lunch. And did a little bit of cleaning. I drew for a bit. I talked to my dad for an hour. It was just a nice day. It was fun talking to my dad about stuff. It was like when we would go out to eat and it was just nice. Made me feel nice. 

James did our taxes today and for the first time in literally years Im getting money back. All of it will be going to my credit card. But its exciting. Its mostly because we both were unemployed for a bit. And made only a little money. But still. Exciting to get something back for the first time. 

Later in the afternoon though my nose would start hurting more. And it just sort of knocked me out. I did play a little animal crossing while James worked. But then I was just like. I gotta sleep. 

So thats what I did. I slept for a couple hours. And it was alright sleep. 

BUt I woke up in more pain and was just so sad about it. Thankfully I took some asprin and it took the swelling down after like an hour. But I was pretty sad for a while there. James made me mac and cheese and we hung out and I started feeling better. 

My nose is still a little sore but its not absently throbbing anymore. So thats good. 

Tomorrow sweetP is going to the vet! Hopefully his swollen face is dealt with. And then I will go to my new job, if they actually open. Like I said they are calling for a delay at this point. So well see if I actually have work. But either way. I hope it will just be a nice day. I hope you all have a good night and stay safe. Lets hope our power continues to hold strong and we stay nice and warm. And you do to! Goodnight all!

[peterthepark]

First Times With Steve (II)

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: F L U F F & some angst

A/N: i highly recommend reading the first installment of this HC before this one! you can find it it here:

- PART ONE

First Time Talking About Marriage:

it’s been a good five years together when steve mentions it to you on christmas morning

there’s snow outside, freshly made hot cocoa on the dining table, while pirate sits by the christmas tree and steve is in the kitchen of your apartment

“so, i was thinking...” he starts, flipping over a pan of pancakes

“oh, well, that’s never a good sign.” you tease, finding satisfaction in the loud groan he makes

“nancy and jonathan’s wedding thing is in a month.”

you’re nodding your head as if he can see you, taking a sip from your cocoa

“when is ours gonna happen? i was thinking early november or maybe even late august. but like next year. sometime soon, hopefully.”

and you SPIT OUT your cocoa everywhere because this has been brought up like once

you have to get up and go to the kitchen because you are not having this conversation from another room

“are you being serious right now?” you stand beside him, helping him put the pancakes on a plate

“yeah, actually. too soon? i love you, Y/N. you know i wanna grow old with you.”

“why are you crying? babes?”

suddenly you’re a mess and you can barely get any words out because holy shit this man wants to marry you

First and Only Wedding:

the wedding is in early november as steve suggested

it’s small, not too many people

the party and robin and everyone from hawkins attends

your parents are there and so are steve’s - even though his relationship with them isn’t that good - he still wanted them present for the day

it’s a beautiful gathering, filled with tears and laughs and memorable stories

you’ve never seen steve so happy

he’s crying as soon as you walk down the aisle

he can’t wait to grow old with you

First Honeymoon:

you and steve go to hawaii

you both wanted to save money first for a house, so you decided to go somewhere new but fairly near

he’s sporting one of those ‘dad’ hawaiian shirts, hair fluffy from the coastal breeze

you guys are literally naked most of the time

steve got this really nice beachhouse from a relative, so you already know that it’s gonna be a fun time

it’s relaxing and peaceful, and you and steve are able to spend quality time together

“you look beautiful today, my wife.”

“why thank you, husband.”

he starts to introduce you as his wife a lot

to random people

to people who don’t give a crap

he is so thankful that you married him

First House:

you move to the city

steve found a great job offer and you as well

so, you find a quaint house near your old apartment

it’s still within driving distance of hawkins which is nice

and even though you both wanted to stay there, you knew that it was time to grow up and move on - but your friendships in hawkins never fade

you’re able to buy this cute house in the suburbs

there’s a big backyard so pirate can run around, and eventually your kids too

steve and you are so overwhelmed with paperwork and moving in on time

“are we seriously homeowners, steve?”

“i mean. that’s a house, right? and it’s ours?”

it takes a while to move in since you want everything perfect

steve helps you with making your dream house

“saw this couch at the mall today. think it’d look nice with our house, so i went ahead and bought it.”

he’s a really good interior designer too?

First Pregnancy:

two months after finally moving in, you’re pregnant

steve is at work when you find out, but you’re sure that you’ll tell him when he gets home

you actually FORGET because when he arrives you’re passed out on the bed

and suddenly, you’re waking up in the middle of the night, and the thought that you’re literally pregnant comes back to you

so you shake your husband awake

“steve, love.”

and he groans, pulling you tighter to him.

“you’re crushing the baby.”

“mmm, i love being your baby.”

and you’re staring at him because you know it’s gonna hit him soon

“steve?”

“wait, what did you say?” and he finally opens his eyes

“im pregnant.”

First Child:

more like children

because you’re literally pregnant with twins

its scares the shit out of you, but steve knows that you’ll be an amazing mom

the birth is smooth but painful

you have a boy and a girl - the complete package

your son: harley harrington is the older twin

your little girl: stella dee harrington is the younger twin

there was one condition that you both had agreed on while picking names

because dustin was the only child of his family, you and steve decided to give one of your kids his name

he’s their big brother, after all

dustin is bawling when he finds out that the ‘dee’ in stella dee harrington stands for him - he loves you guys so much

anyways, children are not as easy as you thought

but steve seems to be great at it

your kids are perfect

stella definitely looks more like you

but HARLEY is literally a carbon copy of steve

they both have good hair

they can’t be separated

and they really love pirate

the harringtons are actually a bunch of dorks

First Argument:

of course, there’s been a few arguments during your marriage

but this one

this one was bad

steve starts coming home late at night

he doesn’t spend as much time with you or your kids anymore

you don’t know what happened but it’s heartbreaking

so you wait for him to come home

it’s midnight and you’re getting really worried

“why are you out so late all of a sudden?”

“Y/N...”

“steve, what’s wrong? you can tell me.”

but he can’t tell you

he tells you everything but not this time

you try to be understanding but you’re getting worried and steve mistakes it for something else

“i would never cheat on you. i can’t believe you’d think that.”

“i never said anything, stevie. you know i wouldn’t - i don’t think like that. im just concerned.”

there’s no yelling or shouting but it’s still as painful because of how distant steve seems

that was the first night in ages that he never told you that he loved you

he leaves the next day to go to hawkins

and you still don’t know why

First Apology:

steve finally opens up to you after a week of being gone

you knew something has gone wrong because of the way he looks: bags under his eyes, smile forced, voice too soft

“baby. come here.”

any bad blood between the two of you has completely dissolved

steve sobs into your embrace, and you feel for him

“do you wanna talk now?”

“it’s my dad. he’s sick.”

oh

“im so sorry, steve.” you kiss his forehead, “is there anything i can do?”

“i need you and the kids. we gotta - we gotta visit hawkins, yeah?”

steve’s relationship with his dad has always been on the rocks

so you know he’s torn

he doesn’t know how to feel

but he has his family to support him

“i’m sorry that i’ve been so selfish and distant. i didn’t want to bring you down with me.”

“i want to be there with you through everything. i made a vow to you, steve harrington.”

First Family Vacation:

it’s france

because steve made that promise to you years ago

your little love lock surrounded by other locks on that bridge of ponts des arts?

it’s still there

harley is making fun of it

“eternally in love? now that’s lame, mom.”

“your dad thought of it. not me.”

“Y/N!”

but stella actually thinks it’s cute

and you tell them how their dad promised to take you back here once they were born

now the kids are gagging because their parents are such SAPS and ROMANTICS

but they also admire that

because it shows them what love really is

they have so much fun

harley can’t stop eating crepes

and stella doesn’t take off the beret (the one you wore on your first trip to france) that you had given her

so cute

so sickening

you’re one big happy family

the harringtons