#my fluffy double c's are the light of my life

[thirstywoso]

Forget about your girlfriend - Jessie Fleming x Reader 18+

W/C: 2.2k

Synopsis: Reader falls for Jessie after realising her relationship has ran its course

A/N: Just here for the angst, having a weird ass time at the minute and wanted to write something that wasn't so fluffy and was more shitty of reader

Warnings: cheating MDNI 18+, Oral, Fingering (giving and receiving) , strap (receiving), I can't think of anything else because if I'm honest I rushed the end of this and probably got repetitive because I'm so mentally and physically exhausted. Hopefully some better fics are coming I just wanted to put something out for y'all even if it was a rush job.

Your relationship had been on the rocks for awhile, the love you once shared had begun to dwindle, the fun you used to share gone, romantic gestures all but a distant memory.

You stayed though, out of convenience. A break up would be too much hassle and staying together would make you feel less lonely.

That was until Jessie had moved to Portland, you'd heard of her but hadn't ever met before. Yet you hit it off straight away, the way she knew exactly what to say to make you laugh.

How even when you were having an off day she could read you and cheer you up, she just got you in away that nobody had before.

Of course you felt guilty you loved your girlfriend, just Jessie added something to your life that you felt was missing.

That's what brought you to tonight, after innocent flirting and months of getting closer with Jessie you'd gone straight to her after a heated fight with your girl.

Your eyes were brimming with tears and she pulled you into a hug, tightly holding you. It's when you pulled back and looked into her deep brown eyes that you knew you were fucked, the tension all too much.

Pulling her closer your eyes dart between her lips and her eyes, a sudden rush coming over you, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Then it was too late, your lips were on hers and her hands were on your hips. Pulling you tight. Biting on your lip to ground herself trying to control the urge to pull you to the bedroom.

Your hands began roaming along her back not letting her pull away, until you needed to breathe.

"Do you want me to stop?.. if you do please say because if we keep going I don't think I will be able to stop myself" she states matter of fact.

You nod your head pulling her back in, arms running along her shoulder blades dragging down until your finger tips are running along her waist. Her actions mirroring yours as you fall deeper into each other.

She begins to pull off your shirt looking at you to double check you were still okay, your eyes meet and you violently nod your head. The look on Jessie's face sending a pulse to your core.

Without a second thought you began ripping each others clothing off discarding all over Jessie's apartment floor before she held your jaw pulling you with her toward her bedroom.

Getting through the door she twists you around pushing you as you step back toward her bed, your calves meeting the end of her bed as she shoves you backwards.

Your head falling into her pillows, her scent overwhelming as you stare up at her longingly.

"I'm going to fuck you so good, you forget your name" she says so causally

"This is your last chance to stop or I'm going to have you whimpering my name and not hers" she offers

"Prove it" you give

That's all Jessie needed to hear as her lips were back on yours in a heated kiss, that then trialed across your cheek and down your neck, feather light kisses and kitten licks of her tongue follow the column of your neck.

Your core beginning to feel like molten lava

"Please" you whimper out as her hand snakes between the two of you, slowly making its way to where you so badly needed her.

"Fuck" she gasps gathering the wetness on her finger tips "do you get this wet for her?" She almost laughs

"Just for you Jessie" you whimper out as her fingers circle your bundle of nerves.

"What's that baby? She doesn't make you this wet? Speak up for me" she mocks her fingers slipping inside of you.

"Fuck.. only you make me this wet Jessie" you moan, head falling back into the pillows eyes rolling back at the delicious stretch she provided you.

Jessie whispering sweet nothings in your ear as her fingers curl deeper "you look so fucking good like this" she groans into your neck" you cry out at her words needing more.

Grabbing onto her hair you begin to push her down, she knows exactly what you want as she trails kisses down your stomach. Blowing gently on your core she removes her fingers before sucking them into her own mouth. Tasting you for the first time, her eyes roll back drunk on your taste.

You laugh down at her "good?" You question.

"You wanna try yourself?" She responds with a nod, dipping her fingers back into you before pulling them out dripping in your arousal.

Wiping her finger tips along your bottom lip before thrusting them into your waiting tongue so you could taste yourself.

You gush at the idea of her fingers fucking your throat and you begin to make a show of cleaning them. Head bobbing up and down gagging on her digits.

She chuckles to herself as she leans down kissing your core, soft at first but then more hungry, kisses to your clit followed by swipes of her tongue through you folds until she is overtaken by want.

He tongue dives into you, furiously fucking you in a frenzy your entrance pulsing around her as her nose bumps into your bundle of nerves.

Your hands find her hair tugging at it as your mouth falls open a silent scream erupting from deep in your throat as she hits the spot you need her most.

Jessie groans into your wet heat adding her ring and middle finger once more, joining her tongue as they dive inside you making your toes curl and eyes screw shut.

Lifting off the bed your hips begin to buck into her mouth and fingers trying to pull her closer into you, your free hand screwing up the sheets beneath you.

Retracting her tongue she begins to suckle on your folds and make her way to your clit that she sucks between her teeth, flicking her tongue over it repeatedly.

Humming to herself at the shake in your legs and repeating the motion, you can't help but whimper as you feel your orgasm approaching.

Before you know it you are falling off the edge and Jessie is back by your head kissing you, overwhelming you with your own flavour.

Her hand is gently caressing your thigh and her lips begin to leave a trail of feather light kisses on your neck as you catch your breath.

"Wow that was something else" you manage to puff out with a slight giggle.

"You look so pretty when you cum y/n, I could watch the way your face screws up and mouth hangs open on repeat" she admits nipping at your ear lobe

"Then make me do it again" you whisper in a tone that almost sounds like a question.

"Mmm yeah?" She says shifting onto her elbow looking down at you. "You want to come apart on my cock?"

You nod your head pulling her in for a kiss, when she pulls back you let her know exactly what you want "Please Jess, fuck me"

She doesn't need to be told twice, grabbing one of her favourite straps from the draw she secures it to her waist before kneeling in front of you again as your legs involuntarily spread for her.

She rubbed the tip along your slit gently before leaning down to kiss you as her length slid past your entrance hitting your throbbing clit and back, repeating this motion as she gently rocked her hips into you as your kiss became more feverish.

She sucked down gently on your tongue as your hands found their way to her shoulders and raked gently up and down her back.

As your tongues battled for dominance you reached between the two of you finding the base of Jessie's newest appendage and angling it so the tip stretched at your opening on Jessie's next thrust.

"Please, I need you inside me, Jessie I want to be so full of you please" you beg her, knowing you needed to feel her stretch you open.

As your hands grab back onto her shoulders Jessie's cock fills you to the hilt, both of you letting out shuddering breaths.

The two of you realising how deep inside you she is, scared to move knowing that there is no turning back now. Your eyes flutter at the feeling of being full of her as she groans just imagining the way you are pulsing around her the same way you did on her fingers.

After a deep breath she pulls back until only the tip is stretching your entrance before slamming her hips back down causing you to grunt, enjoying your reaction she does it again her eyes rolling back at the hitch in your throat as she grinds into you.

"You're taking me so well pretty girl" she praises you as she fills you up again.

Your eyes roll back at her words as she quickens her pace, her finger tips making quick rhythm across your clit.

It had been so long since you had felt this good and the pang of guilt you had subsided pretty quickly once Jessie's lips attached themselves to your neck.

"Forget about your girlfriend" she whispers into your ear, you were so drawn to Jessie that you didn't even remember her name which you knew was so bad, but something inside you just didn't care.

"You are such a bad girl but look at you being a good girl for me" she whispers in your ear nibbling on your ear lobe for emphasis.

The pleasure from her strap nudging against your most needy spot and her little pants and words of encouragement in your neck drove you straight to the edge.

Pulling back she looked into your eyes her speed in thrusts and clit stimulation increasing

"That's it baby, cum for me" she groans as she grabs your ankles angling deeper inside you pushing you over the edge, her longing stare into her eyes driving you feral.

Your nails clawing down her back as you cum on her thick cock, she giggles slightly into your neck as she collapse atop you.

After some time you both start to move, Jessie peeling herself off of you and cuddling you into her.

Your hand traces soft patterns across her exposed skin, before dragging the strap on off of where she had secured it. Discarding it somewhere in the room before your hand found purchase between her legs once more, dipping your fingers between her folds you gather some of her wetness.

The slide of your fingers mixed with the way you could feel her dripping made you crazy, it wasn't long before you sunk your fingers in knuckle deep. Causing both of you to groan out.

"So wet for me Jessie" you half laugh half groan

"Does she get this wet for you baby?" Jessie smirks which you quickly wipe off her face with an overly eager curl of your fingers and a delicate kiss to the edge of her mouth.

Pumping your fingers in harder you kiss her, swallowing her moans as you feel her walls flutter around your digits.

A particularly delicious curl sent her eyes rolling back and her mouth agape, she looked so fucking beautiful so open and relaxed for you.

Kissing along her jaw and neck, biting, sucking and soothing with your tongue repeatedly as you add another digit.

Jessie stretching around you further, worked up from seeing you come undone and from the stimulation the bottom of the strap provided her clit it wasn't long until you had her on the precipice.

One powerful and skill full curl and scissor of your fingers sent her careening off the edge you'd placed her on, kissing her face and neck repeatedly as she shuddered and came down from her high.

Once you'd both caught your breath you were soon wrapped in each other warm embrace.

You hadn't felt so content and safe in such a long time that you began to cry.

"What's wrong baby?" She asks using the pad of her thumb to wipe away your tears.

"I think I know what to do" you say dryly

"...end things" you carry on noticing Jessie's raised elbow

Leaning down she places a kiss on your forehead and rubs your cheek

"Whatever you do or do not decide to do, I will be here for you" she reaffirms

"I love you Jess" you whisper

You think she whispers it back but your eyes were heavy and you drifted into a sleep tucked up in her arms, overwhelmed with her scent from the bed sheets and her proximity. You'd never felt so safe and cared for and you couldn't help the sleep taking over.

[myheadhurtscutely]

Star Stationary - Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader - Chp. 1

C ` Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Summary ` It's your first day working as a receptionist at Star Stationary company, and your quickly forming relationships with your new coworkers. but one in particular has caught your eye.

!Warnings! CUTE AND FLUFFY, but be warned. Angst to come.

wc ` 3.6k

notes ! this is closely based on characters, Jim and Pam, from a tv show, The Office. f/s - favorite soda.

Ding! The elevator finally chimed, indicating your arrival at your new employer. 'Finally!' You thought to yourself, arms crowded with your personal belongings, readily available to decorate your new desk. You were the only person who applied for the boring office job as a receptionist. It was average pay, at a failing company so you figured, it would be okay just for a while. Much to your dismay, as the elevator doors slid open, it revealed the cheap cafe a couple floors below the office. A young man stood outside of the double doors. Tall, dirty blonde, glasses, and absolutely beautiful. If your arms weren't shaking earlier, they definitely were now, along with your knees.

He shyly scooted into the elevator, as if it was full, leaving about an inch or two of space between the both of you. The elevator ride was near silent. Small shuffles and the faint drumming of whatever song was blaring in his headphones was the only white noise to accompany the deafening silence. You peered over at him a couple times through your peripherals, and at some point, you swore you saw him take a glance.

The elevator was coming to a stop, the poor old thing jerked as it completed its job, causing you to stumble out of your carefully modified stance made to accommodate the weight in your arms, and drop several nicknacks and papers. How embarrassing. Thankfully, the blonde boy dropped to his knee to retrieve your items, as you profusely apologize for causing a mess. The elevator doors pry open with a screech revealing the carpeted floors and yellow tinted cream walls of the office space. He picks up one last decoration from your collection and holds it up in front of his blue eyes, inspecting with a slight smirk.

"You like Star Wars?" He cocked his eyebrow, meeting your eyes, as the both of you step out of the elevator before it closes. The office was lit with a white light, flickering ever so slightly overhead. Fake potted plants stood at entrances. Desk cluttered on top and around each nook and cranny.

"Um," You hesitate. Was it stupid to be into that kind of thing nowadays? "Yeah. It's one of my favorites." you say hurriedly. He dangles the Yoda charm a moment longer before placing it in an empty coffee mug you were holding onto for dear life with your pinky.

"Me too." He flashes a quick smile and asks if you need help, which you decline. He carries on, walking to a door near the backside of the space. You set your stuff down with a thud on your new desk. A bigger than usual semi-circle, right near the entrance, with accompanying desk to the right of it. You pull out your pens, highlighters, notepads, stickers, everything you brought to personalize your space. Taking your time, even color coding the order of your pens, you wait. What was there to do? What was your task. The phone rang. You look around in a panic, what do you say? Almost as if Heaven had sent an angel your way, the blonde guy from earlier returns with a mug in hand. A star wars logo branded the front of it. Cute.

He sees your distress and you nod towards him. He makes his way over to you, leaning over your shoulder to grab the telephone. "Hello. Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is Anakin. How can I help you today?" He said candidly. Anakin. His name repeated itself in your head, burrowing its way into your memory, as if it was meant to stay for good. He banters with the customer, one he's clearly familiar with. He grabs your purple pen from your perfectly aligned rainbow stash. You watch him scribble numbers and notes down in chicken scratch on his hand, finishing, and popping the pen in his pocket.

You took notice of this but said nothing, as you were too stunned with him grabbing onto the back of your chair as he spoke on the line.

"Mhm, alright. Yeah. Yes, thank you," His lips curl into a smile as he lets out a chuckle, "Have a great day, alright. Bye now." The phone cord relaxes as he places it back down in its spot with a click. He backs up a little to be able to make eye contact without standing directly above you. "Sorry, I figured you might need some help, you looked distressed. Not in a bad way. Not in a good way either. I'm sorry that sounds weird.." God he's cute. His nose scrunches and his feet shuffle nervously.

"No, no, you're alright," you laugh, "I needed help. I just wasn't really sure what to say you know? Thank you, a lot, though.." Small chuckles and silence followed the both of you momentarily.

"What's your name?" His curiosity overtook him. You offer your name back softly, to satisfy his curiousness. He smiles. Satisfied. "Well, as much as I like wasting company time, I have to get back to work." He lets out a small laugh to his own joke. You smile as he heads back to his desk.

You turn back to face the computer sitting in front of you. Whilst scrolling endlessly and directing calls to the correct department, you see out of the corner of your eye the desk arrangement closest to you. Lo and behold, sitting almost parallel to you, at the second closest desk, was Anakin. Something fluttered in your stomach, nerves or butterflies, you had no idea, but it was stupid anyway. This was your first day on the job, and you'll be dammed if you become one of 'those' girls. Plus, you knew absolutely nothing about him. Except for the fact that he has the most piercing blue eyes, a deeper dimple on the right side, and he has your purple pen in his pocket.

After about three hours of boring calls, and occasional glances to your left to see the blue-eyed boy 'hard at work' it was time for lunch. You got up and you swore felt his head sit up and turn on a swivel, his eyes tracing you to the break room. You've got to be delusional. A girl from the customer service department met you at a small table for five in a corner of the room. She was a talker but sweet for the most part, but her words became white noise after he walked in. His blue collared shirt was slightly ruffled, like his hair. He walked to the vending machine, catching the glance you threw him, and quickly returning it. A smirk plastered itself across his face as he looked toward the ground. His quarters made pinging noises as they hit the bottom. one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. A candy was just a dollar.

"Hey, the vending machine gave me an extra one I guess, want it?" He had walked over to you and the girl, holding out the snickers bar in your direction.

Your eyes looked him up and down subconsciously, "Yeah, thank you. They're my favorite actually." The girl who's named you learned was Kristen, smiled at you, as if to suggest something.

"Oh really?" Anakin noted.

"Yeah, funny coincidence huh?"

"How so?"

"Cause you got my favorite candy?"

"Lucky guess?" He shrugged his shoulders, already walking out the door.

"Wait... but you said-" His words registered in your head. He was getting it for himself? What did he mean 'lucky guess?' Best not to read into it. He was already out the door anyway.

"So... You and Anakin hm?" Kristen remarked.

"What? OH! God no. No, he's just a friendly guy. Just friends." You took a sip of your water to prevent yourself from word vomiting, looking off to the side.

"Mhm... well anyway, keep me posted" She winks as she gets up from the plastic chair, sliding it back underneath the table to walk away.

You sat there for a moment. Was there something? Were you not crazy?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

After your lunch break, you found yourself back at your desk, answering calls, faxing documents, boring office activities. With your back turned, and facing the copy machine nearby, you felt a small sensation on your back. You ignored it, chopping it up to just a cold breeze, but it happened again. You turn around to face whatever it could be, and you see Anakin quickly put his hands down at his desk, dropping a small roll of wadded paper, like a kid who got caught eating candy. You continue to stare at him, waiting to meet his eyes. He looks up from his desk finally and meets your gaze. you smile. His hand quickly slaps over his own laugh, stifling it from sound and view. You lift of your hands with the copies in the and shrug at him. "What?" you mouth silently, smiling.

He just shook his head in response, throwing his smile back down to the desk.

You just shrug it off and carry your papers back to your desk. The phone chimes, you pick it up quickly and repeat what you were taught earlier today, "Hello! Thank you for calling Star Stationary Company, my name is y/n! How can I help you today?" You said in a much more enthusiastic tone than Anakin's. You continue to banter and chat with the costumer, as they ask about deals and prices, but soon your focus is derailed, as a little piece of paper hits the side of your head and falls slowly on to your desk. You pause a second, then whip your head to the culprit's direction. He just sassily waves slightly and smiles.

You finish the call and ponder for a moment. You open the email tab on the old desktop computer and type in Anakin, clicking on his email address. You type, biting your lip in thought. 'Are you having fun with your balls?' Was it too far? Nah. He seemed like he enjoyed joking around. You wait a moment and look over to him. His glasses reflected your message as his nose pushed them up by scrunching due to his smile.

'Ping! Your own screen lights up with a blue notification. Unread email from Anakin Skywalker. What did this little blue-eyed prick have to say? 'What can I say, love me some balls. Wby?' No way he just fucking asked that. You look over at him, mouth agape as a breathless laugh escapes. He just grins in response and shrugs. You look back at the screen, then to your keyboard, and back to your screen.

'Mr. Skywalker, I keep my ball preferences to myself. thank you very much.' Did that sound to serious? hopefully not. You keep an eye out for him, waiting on him to see the message.

'Ping!' You've got to find out how to turn that stupid noise off. Oh well. You can do that later, as you had an email to read from a handsome blonde man a couple feet over. 'I'm so sorry ma'am, how stupid of me to bring up such an intimate question so soon, I barley even know your name.' You watched his stupid little grin as he typed that whole thing out, as you were reading it. A sudden presence by your desk startles you as you turn to face it. Anakin stood in front of you, arms crossed and leaning onto your semi-circle counter in front of you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, I just wanted to come over here to discuss your ball preferences privately." You snort at his joke as he leans his head down and lets out a small breathy laugh before rising back up. "I don't get what's so funny ma'am, I'm just trying to get to know a co-worker?" He laughed in between words, as your laugh fueled his own.

"I've told you; my preferences are reserved to friends only!" The both of you whisper chat among the ringing of phones, chatter of people, and rustling of paper around the office.

"Well then, we'll start off small. Favorite color?"

You hesitate. Anakin makes a buzzer noise and taps the counter. "Ooo times up, gotta be faster Snickers."

"What'd you just call me?" You pause and cock your head to the side.

"Oh, I'm sorry, not a fan of nicknames? I just though cause it's your favorite candy-"

"No, no, no! It's fine! It's cute, I just um- I was confused." You trip all over your words, voice cracking as you stare into his baby blue eyes hidden behind his frames. "Continue!"

"huh? Oh! yeah, okay... favorite soda?"

"Oh come on these are elementary Anakin... f/s! For sure. Final answer!"

"I thought you were better than that." Anakin shakes his head in mocking disapproval. You laugh questioning what his defiance was for. "Thats like the worst one-" The phone at his desk rings. He waves his hand at you in an apologetic manner and makes his way back over to his desk. You sat there for a while after, bored and sad your banter had ended. He was funny. Dorky, and sassy but funny. While you waited for your phone to ring or email to do its annoying pinging noise, you doodled. It's just silly little dogs here and there or like an eyeball or flower, but occasionally you produce a nice sketch. Not like a frame worthy thing, but accurate ones of people, things, places, etc.

Your lined notepad laid out on your desk, littered with sketches of the fake flowers and side profiles of your co-workers as they worked. Nothing too big. Suddenly, a small thud makes rings in your ears, and you look up to see the source in front of you. It was Anakin of course. He placed your favorite soda right in front of you. A small blush spread across your face and body. He was a friendly guy. You kept having to remind yourself of that. "Okay. Now that we're friends, do you like 'em small?"

You pause and stare at him for a second before allowing yourself to chuckle at his poor joke. "Anakin!" You gasp smacking his hand off of your desk.

He laughs and drags his hands up in the air in defeat, backing away slightly. "Cmon! I bought you a soda Y/n!"

"That doesn't mean were 'ball preference' kind of friends. Not yet." you turn to the side and stack your papers neatly as you speak.

Anakin dramatically puts his head on your desk and pounds his fist lightly beside him. "What must a man do!"

"Oh quit your crying... don't you have a job to be doing?" You pause and turn to him questioningly.

"Oh like what? Entertain my receptionist?" For some reason, his use of possessive pronouns sent waves over your body.

"Anakin..." Your voice remained unwavering, hiding the effect his words had on you.

"Alright alright. By the way," He pauses before making his way back to his desk, "my favorite soda is Crush if you ever feel like being nice. Hint hint, wink wink" Did he just 'Hint hint, wink wink' you? Outloud? He was so fucking stupid. You loved it though. Itmade the day more enjoyable and go by faster.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆─────

You've worked there for about two weeks now, both you and Anakin have gotten closer, always sitting together at company things. Choosing each other as partners when HR does 'informational' games. It was subtle but people noticed. Kristen became one of your friends in the office, she could be snippy, but you don't blame her, she worked in customer service. She would make silly comments about the both of you. Sometimes you fed into it, and other times, completely shut it down. (You enjoyed it either way.)

Today was a big night for the office. It was the Halloween Party. You had no idea what you'd be going as, as it had to be appropriate and recognizable. Kristen was already doing a matching couples costumes with the whole customer service department, so that left her out. You had asked Anakin to match with you earlier yesterday, and he agreed thank god, yet tonight, you were sitting alone in a chair outside the conference room where all the food and music was. Since it was so last minute, your costumes were basic. You sat slumped down with your cat ears on your head, with a little painted nose on with black paint and whiskers. Your black turtleneck was bringing you the slightest bit of comfort. Anakin hadn't come yet, and the party ended soon. You had felt disappointed but felt a kind of sense of regret. You guys weren't close. He didn't have an obligation to be here, and it was pathetic of you to pout in the corner, waiting on blonde man to show up in his mouse outfit, that you had barley known for half a month.

Streamers were starting to droop from the ceiling as you look up from your crossed arms. The sound of the front door opening didn't faze you anymore. You quit looking up in hopes it was him, after about the twelfth time. Soon though, to your surprise, standing in front of you was a dripping wet Anakin with coat in hand. "I'm so sorry, I was sprinting all around town looking for face paint for the nose. T-then it rained," He was clearly out of breath, "and I lost track of time." You shook your head at him after a moment. "I'm so sorry I really am..."

You stand up, and pat his arm, rubbing it comfortingly. "Anakin, it's no big deal. I'm not gonna lie I was a little upset but you could've just texted me?" You hold up your phone. "We have face paint here."

Anakin takes a deep sigh, burying his face in his hands, dragging them down slowly. "Are you serious. No way I was that stupid."

"I don't expect anything less Mr. Skywalker." You shrug your shoulders playfully.

"You could at least try to be nice Snickers. I know it's not your strong suit." He quips.

You stare at him for a moment, crossing your arms. "Want your face painted or not?"

Anakin sticks his finger up, signaling you to hang on as he rummages through his wet bag. He pulls out a cheap pair of pink and grey ears, you can tell were hot glued last night. "Ready!" He holds them up near his face and smiles.

There were only a couple people left, excluding you and Anakin, since the party ended in 25 minutes, but you'd be dammed if you weren't gonna make the most of it. You had him sit in your rolley office chair at your desk, with all the paints splayed out on it. You lean in to dab some more pink on his nose. Each time you'd go in to put it on, both of you would start laughing. You didn't know if it was nervousness or what, but you were a giggling, sweating mess.

"Y'know I'm never gonna be able to finish if you don't stop laughing at me." You pull your hands back away from his face and he looks downward trying to contain his laughter.

"Sorry, sorry, work your magic," He straightens up and makes a more serious face, closing his eyes. "Cmon." He beckons you. You move closer, pulling out the black face paint crayon, slowly tracing whiskers onto his face. Did mice have whiskers? You had no idea; all you could focus on was how lucky you were that his eyes were closed because now, he couldn't see how flushed you were. His skin was soft, his eyelashes long and fan like, but god his cheeks. They were so perfect; a rose shade dusted his pale points. Almost as if they were mocking your own blush.

Anakin slowly opened his eyes, and for a moment it was like the whole world stood still. The both of you just looked into each others eyes for a moment, both admiring faces and features. If the saying 'eyes are the window to the soul' was true, he had left his unlocked for you. More was said in that few seconds glance, than you had ever heard in your entire life.

'HONKKKKKKKKKKKK'

What the fuck was that? You jump startled by the noise. Anakin puts a friendly hand on your wrist to calm you back down. "Sorry, that's probably my ride." You said nothing, still processing whatever 'moment' the both of you just shared. "Um, see you next week." Anakin waved and headed towards the door.

"Wait! I- um, I'm heading out to my car anyway, can I walk you out?" Your hands fiddled anxiously.

"Well, I don't see why not?" He grins at you, motioning for you to join him.

The elevator ride was quiet again. The pattering rain made a melody with the soft shuffling of feet. You watched Anakin from the reflection of the metal walls of the elevator. His image was blurred but nonetheless, you could still see his presence, and that was enough.

'Ding!'

The two of you stepped out of the elevator and out of the lobby's glass doors. Rain began to smear the both of yours face paint. "See you next week Snickers." Anakin nodded to you and headed to a black sedan parked Infront of the building. You waved to him solemnly as he opened the passenger side door. You saw a glance of the driver.

Your heart stopped beating.

A beautiful brunette girl sat in the driver's seat. Her curled hair laid tossed on her elegant shoulders. Her lips were pink and plump, and her eyes were nothing short of model worthy. Anakin leaned over and planted a kiss to her temple.

fuck.

You stood in the rain watching them take off onto the empty street.

Notes ` Im sorry this took so long to get out, and I apologize if it's not up to code. But im genuinely having so much fun writing this and I really appreciate all of the support! FOUR MORE CHPATERS TO GO WOOOO! I hope you liked it :)

tags ` @darthgloris , @queenie-official , @bby-imasociopath , @mxltifxnd0m , @jayrami3 , @robertsmithclone , @brainscabs

[comfy-animewriter]

It's the beat! Soulmate Au!

Info: You are 10 and 16 in some parts of the story! e/c means eye color and Y/N means Your Name and L/N means your last name! f/c means your favorite color!

Warning: Soulmates! Izukuxreader! Fluff! Cuteness!

A/N This is also my first one-shot so please be nice! I don't really know much about oneshots so I am trying my best!

In a world of soulmates. You wanted to meet yours, you were dying to know ever since you were little. Once you turned double digits which was 10. You were ecstatic. You could listen to your soulmate sing, and he could listen to you sing. It was a very traditional way of course but that was the only way you could hear his voice.

~~~~~10 Years old in your life~~~~~

“It’s the beat, working up the street! Jumping jack front to baaaack!” You hear a boy’s voice sing. It sounded so sweet like buttermilk and soft like a feather tickling the back of your neck. Your eyes go wide as you sit there in a daze on your bed just listening to him.

“My soulmate sounds like this!” You exclaim, the faint sound of his voice in the background. You run your fingers through your hair, the softness of it causing some anxiousness to go away. You get up from your bed and you lightly sing the song along. Your voice carries out as you mumble and stumble over your tongue. The words barely escape your lips mid-sentence through a verse.

“It's the beat-” You hear your soulmate say as you quickly cut him off knowing this part of the song. Your little heart fills with happiness as you part your lips, “-working up the street! Jumping jack front to baaack!” You smile through your braces laughing.

You are ten, a big girl, with a soulmate. You hear his singing voice that sounds so soft, sweet, and happy. You don’t know if he can hear yours but you assume so by singing along with him.

Soon you will be older and little do you know you will meet him.

~~~~~16 years old in your life~~~~

You run your fingers against the brick walls, the roughness running against your hot skin. The cold to it, slowly heating it down. You smile as your heart flutters with happiness. You hear his voice again. You hear him every once in a while sing but it has been at least 4 months since you heard his voice through your sweet ears.

Singing nothing behind the stolen words of songs that you know of. You listen to him sing as you join in, “I’m unstoppable, I’m a porsche with no brakes! I’m invisible, yeah, I win every single game!” His voice goes quiet as you wonder why he stopped.

You gloom in sadness as you sing the song again, you continue to walk to school. You love photography so you go to Zumanii High. You love how the pictures you take slip off the camera. The way you can use anything at any time and it turns into a loving photograph. You could seize it into anything you want just by taking a photo, and you could save it by bending your camera in angles, the lighting. You just loved it.

You continue to run your fingers on the brick wall as you sing unstoppable like crazy, “Break down, only alone I will cry out loud. You’ll never see what's hiding out!” You sing out as you hear your soulmate sing again.

“Hiding out deep down! Yeah, yeah.” He sings softly and quietly. He sounds so hesitant singing that line like his voice was quivering. 

Out of nowhere you feel a tap on your shoulder. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat and your e/c orbs go wide and you flinch quickly turning around. You meet green eyes that are filled with happiness, nervousness, but friendlessness overpowers it all gleaming into your sight of vision. Green messy hair that looks very tousled, but somehow soft. It is fluffy with waves in it gliding onto the ends that stick up in awkward angles but you liked how it looks. A round face and diamond freckles with round eyes you see, in front of you. 

His lips part slightly as he says something that makes your breath go in the back of your throat. “I know, I’ve heard to let  your feelings show. Is the only way to make friendships grow, But I’m too afraid now.” He sings, his voice quivering mid-verse as the words slide off his tongue. You softly smile, his butter-sweet voice again. Face to face with you now.

You see him swallow as he looks at you with a nervous smile, and his hand rubs the back of his neck. “I-Im I-Izuku M-Midoriya!” He says quickly stuttering out the words from his mouth. The mouth that sang those lyrics to you for 6 whole years. When you felt alone you heard his voice.

“Y/N! Y/N L/N!” You smile at him proudly. Your heart beats faster and your own nervous smile appears on your lips. You look down at the ground unable to meet his green irises or even acknowledge his gaze.

“So, you're the one that was singing throughout my life?” He smiles softly and he looks like a wreck now. His cheeks dust off with a slight pink hue. “Yeah I am, nice to meet you Midoriya!” You gleam at him. His green eyes are still friendly as he then says, “Izuku.”

“Wait! What!” You say quickly cut off guard. Izuku laughs at your confused voice, and face. His cheeks are still slightly pink as your face brightens up a little. It slowly cools off and you both have pink cheeks. Awkward glances at each other as you then say, “Well, I am on my way to school-”

“I can walk you!” He insists still nervous. He smiles lightly taking your hand in his and walking you. “What school do you go to?” He asks you as you both turn down a corner. “Zumanii.” You smile he sees your backpack on your shoulders before he asks, “I can take that if you want!” He says his breath working it’s way back in his voice.

“Well, then Izuku thank you.” You give him your backpack and his face turns into a tired one. He drops it and you laugh slightly your hand now released from his. He tries to pick it up once more and he does so like it was nothing!

“Wait how!” You ask as you walk beside him still. “I used to train with All Might. I can lift a backpack with photography stuff.” He smiles brightly mentioning the High School you go to. He must know.

“You go to UA don’t you.” You ask slightly as you already know the answer. He nods his head and you slump your back at him, “Are you going to make fun of me?” You ask as you stand up straight still walking. Your steps pacing to your school. “No, I like photography not as much as you though” He smiles lightly. Your f/c backpack is now on his shoulders and you shrug off his statement.

Once you two have a little bit of awkwardness and slight nervous smiles mixed in with laughs like a recipe for a cookie. Izuku when you get to your High School you stop by the gate, and he hands you your backpack. “Well, here you go.” He softly smiles still, his cheeks slightly red and a nervous look panics over his adorable face.

“Well, if you can do you think you can-” You start off, your words cut off by his, “I’ll pick you up! What time is it over!?” Izuku asks quickly, nervousness laced into the mix of words. “This afternoon.” You smile he nods before declaring, “I’ll pick you up at 12:20!” He smiles before laughing. You laugh awkwardly too, this was your soulmate you met, and he seems very nice and considerate already.

You quickly press a quick kiss on his cheek before you run off. In the distance, you hear him mutter and stutter uncertain and inaudible words under his breath, his face steaming with red as his nervous smile is now happy. Still very red though. Your cheeks tint a little and you run up the stairs of your school waving bye in his view.

Your soulmate was Izuku Midoriya. The one’s voice you have listened to ever since you longed to hear it. His voice, his eyes, and just him alone you get to see for the rest of your life.

[divinemissem13]

I was tagged by @elephant-in-the-pride-parade.... 20 fic writing questions here we goooooooo 1. How many works do you have on AO3?: 58

2. What's your total AO3 word count?: 171,059

3. What fandoms do you write for? Star Trek: Voyager, Prodigy, Next Gen, Picard, Strange New Worlds... I've also dipped a toe into some other fandoms recently, but mostly drabbles.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Gotta Start Somewhere! (Trektober 2022) (198)

Rotund (113)

Postlude to a Kiss  (98)

What Happens on the Holodeck Stays on the Holodeck (97)

Kitchen Confidential (87)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I don't always have a lot to say, but I try to at least acknowledge comments with a heart or a "thank you."

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmmm probably Just Another Love Story (J/C Workforce AU)? Most of the time I try for at least a hopeful ending but that one is a real cliffhanger... Forever, Honey, and Au Revoir, Mon Amour are also probably in the running (thanks, Whumptober).

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? As I said, I do like a happy ending, so this is harder to narrow down... but I think maybe All Things Bright and Beautiful (very fluffy Beverly/Kathryn fic)... or else maybe The Best Things In Life Are Free (J/C domestic fluff)

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really, although I have gotten comments here and there where people are pretty adamant about how they want the story to go... even if it's not the way I'm planning it to go 🤷‍♀️

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I will heavily imply it from time to time but that's as close as I get!

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Within the Star Trek universe, absolutely... And Beverly/ Kathryn is one of my favorite pairings. I also attempted a Doctor Who / Voyager crossover but ended up spending the whole time with Ten & Donna... who knows, maybe I'll give that another try eventually.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of (except probably Chat GPT)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? No one has but I would be open to it!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Did my first one very recently! Kathryn vs Coffee with @magdalenejaneway

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Kathryn Janeway/ Chakotay.... even though I'm a bit turned off by Robert Beltran at the moment, I've mostly been able to disassociate the character I write with the actor! But I do also love Kathryn/ Beverly and Picard/ Crusher (TNG)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? N/A

16. What are your writing strengths? Getting inside characters' heads/ working out why they did whatever dumb thing the original writers made them do because they had to crank out 24 episodes a season 😂

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Plotting out a story in advance, visual descriptions

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I love languages but if I'm going to use another language in a fic, I will double and triple check that all of the vocab and grammar are correct and also make sure to provide a translation or enough context that one isn't needed.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Star Trek Voyager

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Most challenging fic that I think I'm most proud of: Flecks of Light and Dark (depression focused J/C rewrite spanning from 'Hope and Fear' through to 'Latent Image') But the one that kind of lives rent free in my head at the moment is All the Wounds We Cannot See (Kathryn and Beverly meet-cute, post-Picard season 3)

That was a fun little trip down memory lane! I will tag (with zero pressure!) @madamairlock, @n-square, and @captainhattersvoyagerreviews... and anyone else who wants to answer the questions!

[eirenical]

combeferre/courfeyrac, 2 and 54?

I had about 1000 words of this typed up yesterday and anaccidental hitting of the back button DELETED THE WHOLE THING.  *sobs softly* So, let’s try this again, shall we? IN WORD, THIS TIME.  *headdesk*

(ETA: Holy heck, this thing is 1500 words long.  XD  I THINK YOU GOT MORE THAN YOU BARGAINED FOR, @draconicfaye.  OOPS.  XD)

(Ifanyone else would like to send me prompts, here are the tropes. ^_^)

2. Royal AU & 54. Secret Relationship

So, here’s how it goes:

This is a modern AU, ironic as that is.  Combeferre is the first-born son to an actualruling dynasty, but he’s always kept himself out of the limelight, preferringthe company of his books to sycophants. Enjolras is his much brighter, much more gregarious younger sibling.  His parents often wished Enjolras had been bornfirst, in fact, except for the fact that Enjolras is very vocal about his desireto see their country abolish the monarchy entirely and set up a democracy.  (Of course, Combeferre feels exactly the sameway, but since he generally keeps his mouth shut about, well… EVERYTHING, noone really knows that apart from Enjolras.)

Anyway, the one thing Combeferre has been absolutely adamantabout is his desire to attend school, to train for an actual profession apartfrom being a professional heir.  (Hisparents married young and had him young and it’s going to be a long, long, LONGtime until he gets anywhere close to the throne—not that he wants to, anyway.)  His parents agree, provided that he does itquietly, and doesn’t do anything to embarrass the family.  Combeferre goes them one further by insistinghe apply and register under a pseudonym. So, upon graduation, Combeferre packs his bags and comes to the UnitedStates to go to school.  Enjolras, only16, is disappointed to be left behind, but he understands why Combeferre has togo.

The first year, Combeferre keeps mostly to himself, terrifiedof putting even a toe out of line, or catching the attention of any wandering paparazziwho might figure out who he is.  Hespends an entire semester doing nothing more adventurous than going to class, going back tothe dorm, and studying, rinse, repeat, with only trips to the library in between,and the semester after that doing exactly the same.  No one even vaguely suspects who he mightbe.  By the second year, he’s feelingbolder, though.  He starts investigatingthe various clubs and activities available on campus.  One in particular catches his eye—Les Amis del’ABC.  He recognizes the pun for what itis and can’t help but laugh and decides to check it out.  Itturns out to be a political science club and their president is a bonfire ofenergy disguising itself as a junior pre-law student.  Combeferre is entranced from minute one.

(And the rest of this is going behind a cut because I don’t want to totally kill everyone’s dashes. ^_^)

The thing about Combeferre, though, is that he doesn’t like thespotlight.  At all.  He doesn’t like to call attention tohimself.  He’s much happier advising from theshadows.  So he doesn’t talk much at meetings.  That doesn’t mean, however, that his presencegoes unnoticed.  Courfeyrac notices, allright.  He notices whenever they manage to attract a new member who stays past the first meeting.  He isn’t one to push,though.  He realizes that Combeferre willcome out of his shell in his own time and not a minute before.  So, rather than forcing the issue, he simply…makes space.  He makes time.  He stops by to talk with Combeferre aftermeetings, interested to hear his perspective on things.  And Combeferre finds that in that quiet, moreprivate setting, he’s happy to share his thoughts.

It isn’t long before Combeferre starts showing up early tomeetings, too, hoping for a few words with Courfeyrac before they start.  Not long after that, Courfeyrac startsreaching out to him midweek, when he’s still planning agendas and talkingpoints.  It isn’t long before they start meeting up midweek, as well, in the quad, atthe library, in the cafeteria… at the apartment Courfeyrac shares with hisfriend Marius.

By the time Spring Break rolls around that year, their midweekmeetings have started to be interrupted by midweek kisses.  Combeferre doesn’t even remember which ofthem started it; he certainly doesn’t care. He just knows that he’s never felt his heart beat this hard or this fastfor another person before.  He’s neverknown anyone who could make him WANT to stand up and call attention to himself,if only to brag about the fact that that’s RIGHT, Courfeyrac is kissing ME, notyou.  ME. And I’m kissing HIM.  And it’sWONDERFUL.

By the time the end of the year rolls around, Combeferre hasbeen speaking up in meetings for weeks. His perspective, as Courfeyrac always suspected it would be, is unique,and he brings a lot to the table in the form of practical governmentalexperience that no one has any idea how he came by.  So, it’s no surprise when end-of-yearelections roll around that Combeferre is elected vice-president for the nextyear.  He celebrates by taking Courfeyracto the nicest restaurant in the city, then inviting Courfeyrac to spend thenight at his apartment.  And Combeferre has no idea whathe’s doing, and he’s sure he would have embarrassed himself a million timesover, but Courfeyrac is such a calming presence and so quick to reassure him andhe’s still there in the morning, so Combeferre can’t have screwed up too badly, right?  They spend the rest of the weekend holed upin Combeferre’s apartment, blissfully oblivious to anything but each other.

Which is why Enjolras showing up on Combeferre’s doorstepMonday morning is such an utter shock.

“You’re lucky it was me and not Mother.  Those hysterics were NOT pretty, and seriously, you owe me one.”

Enjolras pushes past them while Courfeyrac is still splutteringand trying desperately to put himself together because this is Prince Enjolras standing right there andCourfeyrac is in a BATHROBE, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, and how is Combeferre takingthis so calmly, anyway?  Before Courfeyraccan even begin to get the questions out, Enjolras turns back to face Combeferreand those stern eyes soften as he reaches out to pat Combeferre’s cheek.  “I thought I was supposed to be the embarrassment in this family.  What happened to keeping out of the limelight?”

Now it’s Combeferre’s turn to splutter and fail to findwords.  Obviously, they’ve missedsomething.  Something big.  Courfeyrac lunges for his phone for the firsttime in days to find all of his notifications on EVERYTHING just… blowing uphis phone.  There are pictures from the restaurant.  The clickbait titles range from the mild, “Andwho is this stunning young man on Prince Combeferre’s arm tonight?  Click to find out!” to the utterly scandalous:“Prince Combeferre gone wild!  Caught inshocking affair with political radical!  Click through for pics!”

Enjolras stares back and forth between the two of them for afull minute before whistling long and low. “Shit.  Neither of you had anyidea, did you?”

Courfeyrac runs off to hyperventilate in the bathroom.  By the time he comes out, Combeferre isgone.  Enjolras is still there.  He apologizes, but his orders were to putCombeferre in a car to the airport the second he found him; no excuses.  Enjolras is to stay and do whatever damagecontrol he can.

What follows is weeks of utter heartbreak on both sides asCombeferre tries to convince his parents that it isn’t what they think, that heloves Courfeyrac and would marry him if the law didn’t insist he had to providean heir of his own.  Courfeyrac staysstateside having much the same discussion with Enjolras.  And Enjolras… he figures out pretty quicklythat Courfeyrac is everything Combeferre claims he is.  What’s more, he likes Courfeyrac.  They getalong well.  They see the world the sameway.  They want the same things for thepeople of their respective countries. They’re kindred spirits.

So, Enjolras goes to work, doing everything HE can, throwinghis weight around in whatever way will serve him to get his parents to see thatthis isn’t some tawdry affair, and that what they’re doing just isn’t right.

In the end, Combeferre is forced to choose: Courfeyrac or thethrone.  Give up the man he loves or thethrone he never wanted to begin with?  That’sno choice at all.  Combeferre is back inthe States that night.  Courfeyracwelcomes him back with open arms; Enjolras welcomes him back with a mouthful ofcurses for sticking him in the position he has. But it’s good.  It’s the best thing that could have happened to all three of them.

Combeferre completes medical school and returns to his countryas a private citizen, joining the staff of a small local hospital for his internship and residency.  Courfeyraccompletes law school the same year and comes with him. They marry the year after that.  Longbefore his time on the throne, Enjolras involves himself with politics, slowlyworking to change the minds of the people, with Courfeyrac right at his sidehelping to blaze the way.  The people oftheir country aren’t ready to give up their royal family entirely, but, overtime, Enjolras and Courfeyrac manage to bring them around to the idea of a constitutional monarchywhere the role of the royal family will be largely ceremonial.  

AND EVERYONE LIVES HAPPILY EVER AFTER.  THE END.

[salemwritesxx]

𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻.

𝕋 𝕒 𝕜 𝕒 𝕞 𝕚  𝕂 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕠  |  ℍ 𝕒 𝕨 𝕜 𝕤

     ⇴ male reader      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ request: Can you write a story where pregnant hawks goes into labor and gives birth? I just wanna know the whole process for him and what he would be feeling

↣ rating: mature ↣ warnings: male pregnancy, c-section surgery

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“[Your.last.name]-san, we really need to prepare-“

“Just 5 more minutes! Pleas-“, though being interrupted by another contraction made it hard to talk.

His legs and arms were shaking as he was leaning against the bed, trying to breath like he was taught to. Hawks’ wings losing small fluffy, red feathers all over the hospital floor with how nervous and in pain he was.

“He’ll be here soon… Just a little…”

And even though the nurse didn’t look too happy and rather concerned, she nodded again and left the room. She could give him a little bit more time, but not much…

Grabbing the phone, Hawks called you again, yet, once again, you didn’t pick up. With a whine, he threw the phone back onto the bed. Beads of sweat trickling over his forehead and dropping onto the sheets as another contraction made him wince and quietly whimper.

God, he was going to kill you if you wouldn’t come here soon!

Though, before he could throw even more curse words at you, the door opened and a familiar face made his heart jump. Just like that, he broke down with a sob. It was unusual for Keigo to cry, but seeing you finally here was just too much. The situation was so overwhelming. He was about to get surgery to meet your new baby and then-

But, as you rushed to his side and hugged him, he just snuggled into you. Everything already forgotten as he melted into your arms.

“It took too long!”, he whined and sobbed, another contraction making him wince.

“I know, I’m sorry, Baby. But I’m here now. I’m here.”, you reassured him, before finally calling the nurse once more.

It was time to deliver your baby girl.

-

Watching as you stayed back as he rolled into the OR was hard. But Keigo knew it was only for a few minutes before he was going to see you again. With a little bit of help from a nurse, he stood up from the bed and sat down onto the operating table.

Sitting there hunched over, he hugged a pillow as a nurse held his shoulders. Another nurse softly, but firmly, pushed his wings to the side. A small hiss escaped his throat as they started the lidocaine shots. Four altogether. They were pretty painful, even though he was used to getting beat up as a hero, it still stung and burned. Like that, Keigo had to breathe through it, not even able to react to any of the attempts the nurse made to try and distract him from the pain by trying some small talk.

Thankfully, he did not feel the spinal block anymore due to the lidocaine kicking in almost immediately. At that point though, everything happened so fast as he had to bring his legs up onto the operating table before he completely lost any feeling whatsoever in them because of the spinal anesthesia.

With a pillow under his head and soft blankets to keep him warm, as well as his wings being tucked away comfortably, he laid there for a few minutes until he got his catheter. And then, once that was over, they put the sterile curtain up and he finally saw you again.

As you sat down besides Hawks’ head with the appropriate attire to be in the operating room, he immediately searched for your hand, hence you took and squeezed it gently.

“You okay, Shortcake?”, you kissed the back of his hand.

He just nodded while looking around the sterile room once again. The bright lights and stark walls were a little daunting. And even though he wasn’t cold or that scared, just nervous and intimidated, Hawks couldn’t stop shaking.

Though, thankfully, the anesthesiologist calmed both of your minds when they said it was a side effect from the anesthesia. So, you just squeezed his hand more and kissed his little fingers over and over again.

“I love, Baby, you’re amazing.”, reaching out your other hand, you softly wiped a wet strand of hair from his forehead.

“You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you, Kei.”

And then, with one last check of his name and birthday, they started. Immediately, Hawks felt tugging and pulling and a lot of pressure. Nothing the anesthesiologist hadn’t told him beforehand, but it was still a weird feeling. As if random people were grabbing his baby bump and just pulling it side to side. Not painful, but very strange nonetheless.

“You’re so amazing, Shortcake. We will meet our little baby girl soon. I’m so excited.”

A crooked, but genuine smile appeared as he sniffled and nodded lightly.

“Me too.”

He was so grateful that you were there. Kei knew he couldn’t have done it without you, even if they probably would have forced him in the end if you wouldn’t have made it in time. But now he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. You were there, holding his hand and being with him while something amazing and almost… surreal was going on down there. Like shit… You were going to meet your little chicken nugget in a few minutes!

The anesthesiologist checked in here and there, making sure Hawks was still doing fine. Which, thankfully, he was. He didn’t feel any pain, just lots of pressure. And his nerves had calmed down to a point where he didn’t feel sick anymore.

“Okay, Baby’s coming out now!”, the doctor in charge suddenly said, hence you squeezed his hand a little tighter.

With just that sentence alone Hawks’ nervousness peaked once again. His emotions all over the place once more. He took a deep breath and grabbed your hand really hard. Though all he could feel was the pressure and before he could really realize what was happening, they lifted your baby up into the air. That’s when you could both see her for the first time. Immediately, he had to swallow his sob as he watched his little girl.

One glance to you was also enough to make him want to cry out of happiness. Your own eyes were glazed as you tried to hold back tears, while a big, happy smile appeared on your face.

“[Your.name]…”, Keigo barely sniffled your name.

“You did amazing, Baby. So amazing.”, you both looked to the side to the small table as they got some fluids out of her lungs and stomach, nothing serious thankfully, just to double-check. The crying of her making his heart ache, because all he wanted to do was grab her and love her already.

Fortunately, the table was only a few meters away, hence he could watch them all the time as they cleaned and weighed your baby. And after just a few minutes, a nurse brought the swaddled girl over and that’s when he could finally hold her for the first time.

That certainly was the most magical moment. With you by his side, the baby on his chest, it was intimate and beautiful.

“Well, she is just as tiny as her Daddy, huh?”, you chuckled and kissed his forehead while softly caressing her small cheek.

Hawks could just nod and smile, before he looked up and whispered “I love you.” with tears in his eyes.

“I love you, too.”, you mumbled back and pecked his lips.

Even though he didn’t want to let go, a nurse gently pulled you away from him together with your little girl.

“Everything will be over soon.”, you reassured him one last time, before you walked out and into the hospital room he had been assigned to.

And while you had your little one-on-one moment with your baby, Hawks was nervously waiting for it to end as they closed his wound and got him situated again.

It took almost 40 minutes where he was alone in the operating room and just craving to be by your side and hold his baby, that he couldn’t help but cry in the middle of it. All of this was a very emotional experience. It was an emotional rollercoaster, really.

Though, when he was laying naked and vulnerable on the hospital bed again, as they had stripped him of the hospital gown completely, he finally came out of the operating room and into his assigned room. Covered in warm blankets to keep his small, yet so incredibly strong body warm. His mood instantly better when he saw you sitting on a chair and holding your baby girl.

You stood up immediately and walked over once he was ready and the nurses left you alone for just a few moments. Softly placing the little one onto his naked chest, Hawks held her again in a tight, yet gentle grip, as if he never wanted to let go again.

He was groggy, but so happy. The selfie you took showed you both beaming with happiness. A photo you would forever treasure.

“She is beautiful.”

“She is. Our sweet little Ava.”, you whispered back and kissed his forehead.

“You are really… the most amazing man I know, Kei. I love you so much.”

And as he grinned from ear to ear with how happy he was, his golden eyes filled with tears and shimmered as he whispered those love-filled words back. So incredibly thankful that everything turned out alright and he could hold Ava in his arms and have you by his side now.

He knew it would get tough from here on out. Not only because he had to recover from this big surgery, which meant you had to take care of Ava almost alone in the first few weeks, (which was pretty hard for him, because he wasn’t someone to just lay down and let everyone serve him), but also because family life was going to be so new. Yet, he was also excited. To experience this with you, because he could have not wanted any other man by his side right now, than you.

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@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: this request came in like two days ago? and yeah like i said, i saw it and knew i had to write it! i loved it! such an intimate moment with our birb boy is just lovely, no? 💌 and i have lots of fun finding names for the baby that have something to do with birds or flying or something lmao

[hansolmates]

shiver | 01 (m)

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summary; jungkook changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut—in this installment: touching over the clothes, mc is hornee, *pulls out cards against humanity* “a gentle caress of the inner thigh”, panty kissin, mc is a big ol’ pushover and hopeful for jkk:(( w/c; 1.9k a/n; it’s here! aaaaaa!!! i’ve been really eally realllyyyyyy nervous to post this. even though this is just a drabble series  let me know how you feel about it! enjoy [shiver masterpost]

“Oh, you’re so dead.” 

Jeon Jungkook isn’t thaaaat buff, he's more of a skinny kind of muscular. You don’t understand the hype, why everyone croons over Jungkook’s strength and physique. However, how else could you explain Jungkook being able to climb the currently dilapidated fire escape to the top floor of the chapel. The ladder is rusted beyond repair and is definitely a fire hazard rather than a fire escape. Yet he barely breaks a sweat doing it, and he wipes the minor sheen off his brow with the back of his hand. There’s some soot and whatever nasty residue from the fire escape that gets on his face, a black streak marring his already annoying face. He’s currently wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic “hello.” It makes you sneer, your two consciousness (inappropriate and appropriate) warring against each other to determine whether you still find this man attractive or not. 

Convincing yourself that Jungkook is ugly is the worst quick-fix idea you’ve ever had. 

The words of your Aunties, the family friends in the church, echo in your ears. Jungkook’s bad. They’d say over and over. It would cause you to snort and giggle, unable to imagine what sort of things he’s done to warrant such a cliché label. Yet some of the girls your age, girls that have gone off to college agree with sultry looks and longing eyes that yes, Jungkook’s bad. So bad, it’s good. 

You haven’t a clue what he’s actually done to earn such a hushed title, his parents are lip-tight about his doings, unless it’s his achievements in the architecture graduate program. You hear things, though. Things that make you shamefully green with envy, envious of sin. 

As soon as he finds proper footing in the storage room, he goes to the closet, immediately finding his backup clothes. They’re plain white button-downs, awkward long shirts with no shape or definition to them. They belong to the church, and no one ever uses them because they’re stiff and itchy. Yet Jungkook wears them like it’s tailored, and you have to look away when he quickly knots the bottom half of the shirt, fashioning it into a tasteful double knot in order to cinch his lean waist.

“Pretty sure it was just you that saw me,” Jungkook says dismissively, “so it’s fine.” 

This bristles you the wrong way, and you put down the catering covers you were supposed to return to the storage room. You smooth out your Sunday dress, this shade of Boring Beige looking particularly pale in the morning sun. “How do you know I won’t tell?” you turn your nose up. 

“Because I know,” he doesn’t even look at you, focusing on rolling the sleeves of his shirt. You weaken when you see the black shadowing across his forearm. That’s new, then again you haven’t seen him since last Christmas.   

“Know what?” 

“That you have a crush on me,” Jungkook says into the air like it’s common knowledge, adjusting the leather jacket on top of his outfit so the white-startched collar pops on top, “I mean, it’s hard for anyone not to know. You’ve been into me since youth group, Bunny.”  

You hold your breath, counting to ten as you close the door behind you. A vision of you playing “Duck Duck Goose” as a five year old plays in your head, where you’d pick a bushy, big-eyed Jeon Jungkook each time, hopping over to him to pat his fluffy head so he’d chase you around. 

It’s old news, your puppy love for Jungkook. How could you not like him? He's clever and sweet with his mother and always told the best stories in youth group meetings.  Everyone thought your affections were so sweet, and while that attention weaned over time, your feelings have only increased the more self-aware you’ve become. 

With a mind as open and honest is yours, it’s hard to ignore how well Jungkook has grown. What has also grown is your curiosities since the two of you have moved onto university. Jungkook goes to the university uptown, a far drive which only forces him attend masses during the holidays. You attended the local community college, wrapping up a bachelors in some vague major that you’re not attached to. You’re currently looking around for some graduate schools, but unfortunately you’ve been so wrapped up doing duties for Pastor Nina that you haven’t been able to look around properly. 

Jungkook’s probably living a fun life, with the way he’s grown rough and loose, you resent him. 

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s right in front of you, trapping you between his body and the door.  

“Don’t be embarrassed, Bunny,” you furrow your brows, nearly growing cross-eyed when he leans in. “I think your crush is cute.” 

You’re not sure what he thinks of you. Sure, he considered everyone a friend when you two were in youth group, but that was youth group. Premeditated, parents forcing other children to do the same things with each other for years upon years in the hope they’ll practice together forever and ever. Jungkook did not want that, evident from the way he dipped his duties as soon as he got into university. 

You hate how easy he dips back into it though, calling you Bunny and making you feel like a little girl all over again. Bunny, because you’d hop around to him whenever he was in sight. Bunny, because Jungkook had been fondly compared to the wide-eyed, diamond-toothed creature. It was cute when you were five. Now, it’s just discomfiting. 

“Don’t call me that,” you bite, “and I don’t like you anymore.” 

“Sure you don’t,” he rolls his eyes, and you flinch when Jungkook’s hand rests on the curve of your waist, fingers slotting themselves between the pleats of your skirt. “That’s why you’re not moving away when I’m about to put my hand under your skirt. Because you don’t like me.” 

You press yourself further into the door, your skin hot and vibrating. So warm, you feel like you could melt through the door and escape from Jungkook’s gaze. Sure, the young ladies in the congregation talk. Maybe you’ve heard a story or two about Jungkook being seedy, a result of being repressed after years and years of stiff routines and expectations thrust upon him. You could care less about Jungkook’s sexual appetite, until this appetite has reached you. 

“Mm, you’re pretty,” Jungkook’s eyes roam your form, the daisy white blouse doing nothing to barricade Jungkook’s sudden interest in you, “you’ve never been touched like this, have you?” 

“I’ve touched myself like this,” you hiss in defense, and it’s more out of anger than in pleasure. You don’t need a man to comfort you, but Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in mirth at the new information. 

“That’s really sexy,” Jungkook slips down, roams his fingers down to your ankles and plays with the silver buckles of your Mary Janes. You shiver when his hands trail up up up to your knees, the swell of your thighs, and catch right under the elastic seam that holds your secrets together, “but I’ll have you know, it’s different when you have someone hold your pleasure in their hands.” 

You’re in the storage room of your church, fifteen minutes before the Christmas mass, with Jeon Jungkook’s head between your legs. Your skirt is long, and Jungkook doesn’t bother to ride it up your waist. 

It feels more forbidden that way, Jungkook hiding under the fabric of your skirt to get to your honeyed center, sneaking his way in with rough hands and soft touches.

“J-Jungkook,” you whimper, pressing your full spine against the wooden door, “we shouldn’t. N-not like this.”

What is wrong with you? Is it sheer curiosity? Do you just want to know what it finally, finally feels like? You should be pushing him away. There’s red lights flashing back and forth in your brain like sirens. Yet, do you really want to turn away the attention you’ve been aching for years? 

You imagined your first time to be relatively special. The bare minimum, a bed, a talk, and a partner you’re mutually committed to. None of those things are met. Now you understand why all the young women in church whisper about sex like this. It’s a spur of the moment, it’s an unbridled pleasure you don’t want to stop, no matter how forbidden and sinful the act is.  

“How else then?” you feel his deep voice straight through your panties, his lips whispering between the pink cotton like he’s sinking liquid heat into your skin. “I can’t sink my fingers into your sweet cunt during the candle lighting. Or when we open presents with the family after. That would be inappropriate.” 

Your replies come out in breaths, puffs of air that conceal the moans you so badly want to let out as Jungkook pokes and rubs at you. He does nothing beyond the cotton fabric, only slides two fingers up and down your slit as he gathers the arousal between his digits. 

“So wet already, that’s so sexy,” he’s kissing your core, and you sigh fretfully at the pleasure that feels so close yet so far away. 

“P-please, Jungkook…” 

“Please what?” Jungkook teases, fingers slipping back and forth between the elastic of your underwear, “please stop? Please touch me? Please fuck me?” 

The church bell answers that, and Jungkook’s nose knocks right into your bud at the sudden intrusion. You yelp at the jarring stimulation, pulling him from under your skirts as the loud noise echoes in the room. Both of you wince at the pain, the moment interjected. 

“You first,” Jungkook casually opens the door for you, as if he didn’t have you ten seconds away from begging him to make you come. 

You don’t even look at him as you dash away, not bothering to take the elevator in favor of running off the heat. Two minutes before the procession. The church is packed to the brim, only the back seats left. Your family probably gave up on waiting for you up in the front. As you sit down in the corner, you’re momentarily distracted by the beauty of a decorated church on Christmas. Even though you’re part of the decorating committee and commanded most of the design, seeing the stained glass lit up with fairy lights and the poinsettia plants blooming burgundy on the altar, you’re impressed. 

“There’s a draft here, you must be cold.” Jungkook talks to you so politely, a perfect picture of a gentleman as he drapes his leather jacket over your lap. He speaks as if it’s a pleasant surprise, a childhood friend he hasn’t seen in nearly a year. 

You can’t tell him to move when people are watching and Jungkook is seconds from interrupting the procession, so you reluctantly scoot over so he can sit next to you. His scent overwhelms you even more now that you’ll have to sit next to him for a whole hour, lavender and vanilla overtaking your pew. 

The jacket is heavy and heady on your lap, and you force yourself to stare straight ahead. Jungkook cannot weaken you like this, not anymore. 

Thirty minutes later, his fingers are hovering at the start of the homily, caressing your thighs under the jacket with his big hands. A draft? Please. You clamp your thighs together, knocking your knees and hoping they’d lock together for the rest of the mass. Jungkook’s a master key, easily parting his way as if your muscles are pure jelly. You turn your head sharply, glaring at him with all the fire in the world. 

“Careful,” Jungkook mouths, eyes flickering to the symbol atop the podium, “he’s watching.” 

His fingers finally brush the damp blush cotton of your panties, and you shudder. 

[wizkiddx]

supercluster

this is my entry for @hollandsrecs 'toms birthday fanfic fest' event - go check it out!!! I know its a early but im v bored so have it now. also im acc kinda really proud of this one, any feedback would be v appreciated 🤍

the prompt was: 'you and tom are best friends and you tell him that you love him on his birthday'

summary: its toms birthday but he has a few things to get off his chest and into the night sky, y/n joins in with a bit of a revelation too

best friends -> lovers

warnings: mentions of alcohol, bit angsty but promise ends all fluffy and a shit tonne of dialogue

wc: 3.5k ishhh

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Everything got a little too wild and stuffy in the living area, Haz and Harry screaming sweet caroline, whilst Greg (Tom’s stunt man) was pouring *another* round of shots. The sweatiness and clamminess of the room meant Y/n took a moment to escape, sliding out the double doors, and closing them softly behind her to ensure no one would notice her little escape. Something about the midnight air, the slightly dewy smell of the neighbouring fields, felt like it was refreshing Y/n from the inside out. When she turned around, back facing the fancy rented house, she was slightly shocked by Tom standing in the garden. It was his birthday party after all. In all honesty, Y/n felt a bit guilty she hadn’t noticed he wasn’t in the thick of it with his brothers and castmates.

His silhouette was set against the clear night sky, the stars extra prominent this evening and the moon casting a soft glow off the left side of his face, exaggerating the natural contours of his jawline and cheekbones. Clearly, he was enraptured by the sky, staring up at it with a thoughtful look on his face.

And Y/n recognised that look instantly; she knew what he was doing.

In fact, he had taught her to do precisely the same thing. As kids, the Hollands, Y/n’s family and another two families from the local area all went camping together. It was an annual event, ‘the Kingston collective camping adventure’ as Dom had named it. Y/n couldn’t remember a year when they hadn’t gone actually - it was that much of a tradition.

One year, though, when she and Tom were about 9, her mothers’ due date coincided with the camping dates. So, sensibly, the decision had been made that Y/n and her brother would just be looked after by the Hollands - whilst her mum and dad were safely tucked up in bed at home, awaiting the arrival of her littlest brother.

Y/n, her brother Alex, and Tom were all sharing a tent, and it must’ve been at least midnight that Tom was awoken by shuffling and zipping up of the tent. He’d realised she was gone through sleepy eyes and, without a second thought, went to go find her. Sure enough, she wasn’t far away, not even 50 metres from the tent, crouched on the grass. Immediately Tom’s presence had been noticed, making Y/m quickly snivel and wipe her face.

“Are you upset?”

“Go away Tom.” The comment didn’t do a lot, though; instead, 9-year-old Tom had planted himself down next to her - his pyjamas getting wet on the moist grass floor.

“Are you missing Auntie Sarah and Uncle Mike?” In the same way that Y/n called Nikki and Dom auntie and uncle, the Holland boys mirrored the nicknames for her parents. Y/n replied with a long sigh before hiccuping, failing to control the stream of tears. Yes, he was right - this was her first night away from her parents- but she wasn't about to spill her heart out to the 'stupid boy' who had stolen one of her marshmallows that evening. Tom’s little brown eyes swelled, looking slightly terrified and out of his depth, whilst with all his 9 years of wisdom, trying to come up with an answer.

“Do you want to play football to forget about it?”

Unsurprisingly Y/n shook her head violently. Tom cursed inwardly at himself for saying the wrong thing, apparently football wasn't the answer to everything. The two children went back to silence until Tom had the metaphorical light bulb moment. “My mum told me something for when I got to sleepovers? Look!” He grabbed Y/n’s little hand, extending it upwards towards the night sky.

“No matter where you are, you’re all looking at the same stars too, right?”

Tom jumped a little before looking over his shoulder and recognising Y/n with the softest smile that grew across his face. Y/n slowly walked to his side, arms crossed over her chest to try and keep the cold at bay, joining Tom in staring up at the starry expanse.

“How do you always know?” Tom spoke in a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly. It was true, she did always know - but his question was somewhat irrelevant. They'd spent most their childhood together, they were as easy to read as a children’s book to each other.

“Missing home?”

“Sort of, I got my own slice of home with the boys and-and you but… pads, mum dad yeh, feel like on your birthday your always supposed to see your family.”

Although Harry, Harrison, Sam and Y/n had managed to fly out to surprise Tom on his birthday- prior commitments meant his parents and youngest brother hadn’t been able to make it. They four arrived yesterday, greeted by a very shocked and pretty emotional Tom - who had clearly been missing the sense of home somewhat. He’d been away shooting a film, then straight away launching into press for the next spiderman movie. It had been a long while since he’d been in London - half a year in fact.

This time too, he’d been away without a single family member or friend - that was another truth he’d learnt about growing up. Your friends and family, they all get lives of their own. Tom used to be a trailblazer, the first to get a job, the one everyone was super proud of. They still were, of course, but didn’t dote on him in quite the same way - everyone had their own shit to deal with. It was yet another reason Tom wasn’t welcoming his birthday as much as he usually would.

“Your parents did always spoil you rotten.”

“They spoilt you worst and you’re not technically their kid.” Y/n rolled her eyes, even if it might slightly true - muttering a ‘touche’ at the brown-haired boy next to her. Their families had always been close; naturally the adults seemed to gravitate more to the kids that weren’t their own. The ones who you could ‘give back’ at the end of the day. It just so happened Nikki and Dom had always loved having Y/n around, maybe a bit more than anyone else.

“Have you had a good birthday then? You should be in there with Greg pouring that shitty vodka down your throat.” Y/n questioned, whilst shrugging back toward the house, the dull thump of Jacob's playlist just audible. Still, both stared upwards, standing close enough that their upper arms were both pressed up against each other. She expected a jovial answer, but even from his tone, it was evident there was something up. He sounded…weary?

“I’m bloody glad you all came...don’t get me wrong, I love Z and Jacob and everyone but….”

“Shitty week?”

“Shitty birthday week of promo and press.” Tom scathed, and Y/n nodded. Even if she couldn’t understand what was so bad about press, she knew that Tom hated it passionately. And in the same way, he loved all his castmates dearly, but they hadn’t known him his whole life. They didn’t understand why he did every little thing; their values lay just that bit apart. It just wasn’t the same as being surrounded with his family - you and Harrison adopted Hollands too.

“I just feel like I’ve spent all week trapped in a room answering the most stupid, irrelevant and inconsequential questions... Everything’s just so surface level and fake and, and I-“He cut himself off, for the first time meeting Y/n’s eyes. In all honesty, Tom got a bit caught up in the stars reflecting off her piercing y/e/c eyes before changing tack.

“Will you do me a favour?”

This wasn’t spoken with the normal Tom tone. It wasn’t joking or jovial; it wasn’t an ‘off the tongue’ thing. This was spoken with such seriousness and gravitas coming from his deep voice that Y/n replied equally truthfully.

“Always T, you know that.”

“Will you please ask me a personal and serious and deep question?”

She got where he was coming from too.

Clearly, even though the evening was supposed to be a light piss up in celebration, it had instead unearthed some darker thoughts that Tom had been harbouring away. Perhaps he never even realised he needed such seriousness, or perhaps with his castmates he hadn’t felt comfortable exposing himself like that. Either way, Y/n was going to respect him now. It was technically his birthday, too; the clocks had already struck 12 - it was now his day.

It wasn’t tricky to think of one; she’d often wondered the same question of him - never with the opportunity to ask. The question popped into her head again, almost as soon as Tom asked for one.

“Okay…. What’s your deepest regret that makes you feel guilty for feeling because in the grand scheme of things, it minor? Like such a 'first world problem'." What do you regret that’s just completely selfish?”

Tom immediately stiffened, his jaw tensing as he worked through his thoughts in his head. Scared she’d pushed it too far, Y/n averted her gaze back to the sky, chewing her bottom lip slightly. It took a moment, but then she saw Tom turn towards her, in the peripheries of her vision. With a tightly closed-lip smirk on his face he joked “If your gonna ask questions like that, we better sit down.”

And so they did, both sitting crossed legged on the ground, knees brushing against each other. Just on the grass lawn, almost mirroring themselves all those years ago as kids in that camping site. Y/n wondered if she should offer to play football instead - to cheer him up.

“Missing out. I miss out months at a time. Miss out on seeing mum and dad, miss out on the pub quizzes with the boys, miss out seeing you… I mean, I didn’t even know you had a new job until you mentioned it this morning. I miss out on time with nana Tess and all my grandparents, and that’s scary cos… well, every time I go, it could be the last time… I don’t know, I just… I get so much, get to travel, to see the world, but… sometimes it feels like I’m sacrificing the foundations. And without the foundations….”

“The walls come crumbling down.” Y/n finished off his sentence quietly, barely whispering the words - but from Tom’s nod of agreement, it seemed like she’d hit the nail on the head. There was silence for a beat till Y/n whispered to him.

“Well, happy birthday to you” Trying to bring the mood up a little, she bumped his shoulder, and Tom chuckled breathily.

“Seriously! This is helping me out. I-I just need to get everything out and start my 25th year fresh.”

“Hey, if that’s all you want, I’m getting a refund on my present- we can just get deep and interview each other.”

“I’m game, except I’m keeping the present too.”

“Just because it’s your birthday and I’m a bit tipsy, I’ll allow it.”

“Okay, well then, Y/n L/n”, He spoke formally, leaning in closer and making her giggle a little. “What’s your biggest regret?”

“Honestly?” Tom just repeated her in reply, but this time it was a statement.

"Honestly."

He really was going deep too. No holding back now. Y/n sucked on her cheek before replying. “Not travelling with you when we were 19… I was just so determined to get to uni and start grown-up life, but… well, grown-up life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I should’ve tried to stay a kid longer, messing about on your film sets and pretending it was work. I think I would’ve learnt more from seeing the world with you.”

“Well, I am very knowledgable.”

“Shut up, you drop out- who didn't know what a drag race was.” She wasn’t wrong, and whilst yes, he had dropped out to be a film star - he was still a dropout. (with exceptionally poor knowledge of RuPaul) He scowled, then leaning back on his hands, so he was half reclined on the grass as Y/n thought of her next question.

“Whats your biggest worry?”

“Easy.” He chuffed, making Y/n furrow her brows at him. Clearly, he’d already thought of this. “That I finally settle down with the love of my life, and then the fans or press or paps ruin it.”

It made sense; every time Tom had gone public with a relationship, it had ended in a minor car crash. Typically it was also the girl who got hurt; she was the ‘victim’ in everything. Though Y/n had seen first hand the effect it had had on Tom - he never made it out damage-free.

“You make it sound like you’ve already got this dream girl queued and waiting.”

“I wish”, Tom sighed, as Y/n took the opportunity to completely lie down on the grass, staring up at the dark abyss. She’d always loved the stars and had become a bit of a geek on them as they’d grown up too- and maybe it was all down to Tom on that camping trip. Following suit, Tom copied her, his head resting on his hands that were crossed behind his head, taking in the moment of pure peace as they lay on the grass.

“You see that bright one there?” Pointing up, Y/n shimmied closer to him so that he definitely saw the same thing as her. “It’s actually not one. Look closer.” Humming, Tom shifted a bit closer, so her shoulder slotted under the side of his body just the teeniest bit. It meant he could follow her direction and squinted up at the little patch of the sky.

“ 5…maybe 6? What is it?”

“The pliedes supercluster…. basically a big group of stars that all were born from the same place- the same stellar nursery.”

“But they’re moving now?” She hummed in confirmation to his question, briefly glancing at the way his eyes were fixed on the sky. For the first time he seemed genuinely interested in hearing her stories of the stars. It usually was an eye roll and ‘you’re so lame’.

“They’re called the sibling stars… like everything in life, as they get older they drift apart but…. but to us down here? They’ll always be associated together because they have a gravitational effect on each other. They’ll always have their thing tying them together. Like an invisible string.”

“Sounds like you’re being metaphorical.” Tom chuckled, expecting a taunt back but receiving nothing except a gentle agreement.

“Theres also actually 7. The last one people can only sometimes see… it’s a pulsing star, so comes and goes.”

“They do that?”

“Yeh, and no matter what… if you can see it or not, it’s always there. Always having an impact on its family.”

Biting his lower lip slightly, Tom repositioned his head slightly, Y/n’s words taking time to be fully absorbed. He was sure she was making parallels to him. Barely there, appearing and disappearing, but always a part of the family.

“You are being metaphorical.”

“Maybe.” She whispered shortly. “Metaphors depend on who’s listening and if they draw parallels to their own life. It’s subjective. You can’t tell anyone what is and isn’t metaphor…. it takes the beauty out of it.”

“Right, sure... But if you were…. me, harry, Sam, pads, you, Haz, Tuwaine? That the 7?” Y/n held back the little smile at his words. Tom wasn’t as ‘head in the clouds’ as she was- he was literal. Also, he was bloody stubborn when he wanted to be.

“I wasn’t being metaphorical T.” He knew she was lying. She knew that he knew. But it still helped him, made him feel a bit better. That he was always, in some way, having some effect... lives always intertwined with the people he cared about the most.

“Tell me another story about another star.”

Time for the rest of the night kind of got lost. The two young adults just lay on the grass, entirely in their own little world, using each others body heat to keep themselves warm through the early hours. Neither felt remotely tired, Y/n whispering her little stories of both the myths and science of the old stars, pointing out each planet. Meanwhile, Tom listened in awe, for once not taking the mick out of her incredibly geeky hobby. Instead, he found himself getting fascinated by all the little intricacies Y/n was so passionate about.

It was only when the stars began to fade, as orangey-red hue started to seep up from the horizon the either noticed the time. It was now the morning of the next day, the house long since had turned silent behind them - presumably, everyone finally passing out shit faced.

As the stars’ light was overtaken by the rising sun, Y/n ran out of stories; the two settled into silence - neither quite ready to go to bed yet.

“It’s still my turn,” Tom spoke into the sky before pivoting his head to look Y/n in the eye, seeing the confusion in her furrowed brows. “It’s my question to ask. My turn.”

“Aren’t you sick of my voice yet?” There was absolutely no reason that they were both whispering. It wasn’t like anyone was trying to listen or that they’d disturb anyone else my talking normally. But it was nicer that way. It felt calming... intimate even.

“One more. And then you get one more… and then we really should probably go to bed.” He didn’t want the night to end; he was immensely enjoying this weird grey time between being 25 and 26. But it was cold, Tom could tell Y/n had started to feel it a little more. To be fair, she was only in a floral day dress, not much in the way of warmth. With a hum of agreement, Y/n smiled lightly at him, urging his question.

“Whats the biggest secret you’ve kept from me?”

With a bit of a scoff, Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, trying to draw some strength she wasn’t sure she had. It wasn’t like she needed to wrack her brains to come up with it - she knew instantly. Almost painfully too.

“Uhm, honestly?” Now even more intrigued, Tom nodded, using his foot for nudge hers - encouraging her to speak. “Probably how much you mean to me.”

“Oh” He couldn’t help it; the sound just slipped out his mouth without checking with his brain first. That answer had just been so unexpected. He had honestly been thinking that it would be something about how ‘fame had changed him’. After hearing that, Y/n turned her head up the sky again, feeling like her cheeks were on fire with embarrassed heat. Tom knew he had fucked up.

“No, I… I didn’t mean- just just ask me too.” With a sigh, Y/n waved off his stumbled answer as he tried to cover himself.

“This is stup-“

“Ask me!” For the first time in 5 hours, Tom spoke at an normal volume - but it felt painfully loud, like a shout.

“What’s the biggest secret you kept from me?” Her tone was defeated, but nevertheless, he answered.

“How upset I was when you didn’t come when we were 19. I got why, but it was still annoying. Felt like you were picking uni friends over me-“ At this point on any other evening, Y/n would have interjected and argued. None of this situation was normal, though, so she chose to hear him out. “- I know it’s stupid, but…. I guess that’s how much you meant an-and still mean to me too.”

There was silence for a couple minutes, waiting whilst the sun started to peep over the horizon, the lone witness to an otherwise very private conversation. That was until Y/n barely spoke, more like mouthed 2 simple words.

“I lied.” The intensity of the way Tom stared at her made Y/n wish that the sun hadn’t been so bright, that they were back in the darkness that hid her face more. “Biggest lie I’ve told you … that I’m not in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t see because she couldn’t face looking at him, but Tom’s face erupted into the most prominent, toothiest smile. Whilst Tom was enjoying the moment of being absolutely ecstatic, Y/n was waiting for a response- feeling her world come crashing in. That she'd just destroyed one of the most important friendships in her life too.

But then he said the opposite of what she thought he would.

“I lied too.”

That had her attention, whipping her head toward him as Tom rolled onto his side on the lawn, balancing with his head resting on one hand. “I lied that I’ve not been completely under your spell since we were kids at that campsite, and you were homesick.”

Y/n’s heart was literally in her mouth, brain overwhelmed but one overriding thought oh so bloody clear.

She’d lost control of everything, arching up to mirror Tom. Using one hand, she reached out to cup Tom’s jaw, to which he instinctively leant toward - until their lips were mere centimetres apart, hot breath fanning over each other.

Y/n no control as she whispered those 3 words against his lips. No control at how immediately after he pressed his to hers; no control as Tom guided her to roll on top of him, knees either side of his torso as his strong arms wrapped around her back.

Once again, time was lost between the two, only pulling apart when their lungs burned for oxygen.

“For the record, I love you too.” Grinning from ear to ear, Tom used one hand to gently stroke his thumb across her cheek, switching his focus from her left to right eye - in wonder at how the early morning sun reflected from her y/e/c irises. He’d always thought she was beyond beautiful, but when she was this close to him, with the sun rising behind her in such a way - she looked damn ethereal.

“Happy birthday T.” Nodding in agreement, Tom chuckled before finding her lips once again, whispering against them.

“Yeh, happy damn birthday to me.”

~~~~let me know what you think ;) ~~~~~

tagging: @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove @crossyourpeter

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Five / Double Shot on Ice

W/C: 3.7k

Warnings: physical fighting, mentions of blood/bruises/injuries, pepper spray being used, language ofc, tenderness to the extreme

A/N: hi this is going to be really harsh then very tender, so I hope you like that! I really love this series and I can’t wait for you guys to keep reading :)

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“Javi!” you shriek as Tie Guy gets up, head still spinning but ready to fight. No, you do not want this. Javier defending you was one thing, but you can’t let him be harmed.

Grabbing the man you now consider your boyfriend by the arm, you pull him from the bar, rushing outside into the chilly D.C. night. You wrap your coat tighter around yourself, looking at the man with the most puzzled expression your face can possibly make.

Tie Guy has followed you out. Fuck. The one goddamn night you wear heels, you mentally shame yourself. Even though they aren’t very tall, there’s no way in hell you can run in them. “Let it go, let it go,” you mutter under your breath, begging Javi and silently praying the other man drops it too. It doesn’t work. Tie Guy stalks after you, following you into the parking garage nearby. He’s dead set on Javier. Your plea works until Tie Guy shouts out.

“Hey, you bastard! I’m not finished with you!” he shouts.

Javier spins and drops your arm, handing you his coat and stalking towards the man.

“You wanna be a disrespectful fucking bastard, I’ll keep beating your ass,” Javier threatens.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Tie Guy huffs. “She’s got you so fucking whipped man,” he laughs, pulling Javier right into his trap. “She’s not even-”

Javi steps closer to throw another hit. The man beats him to the punch, quite literally. His fist connects with Javier’s eye, and he stumbles backwards, falling onto his rear end in the gravel. “Yeah, tough guy,” Tie Guy crows, but Javier gets up quickly.

Whitney, your car, is parked right there. You can’t bear to look away, but you know what to do. You run to the car, sliding into the passenger seat and rummaging through your glovebox. While you’re running, you hear another smack: Javier is on the ground, clutching what was his good eye until he got punched in it. Fuck.

Javier is a trained fighter. Tie Guy really doesn’t stand a chance when Javier gets up, rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins from taking two hits to the face. More fists fly, nothing connecting with the proper target. Nails find skin, scratches and scrapes on arms and faces. Javi kicks him in the gut and he falls down but gets up before Javi can keep going,

The timing is perfect. Tie Guy has his back to you, and Javier is a yard or two away from the man. You just need his attention-

In the heat of the moment, you think of the only thing you can throw: you slip off one of your heels and wail it at the man. It connects with the side of his head, which he immediately claps a hand over in the pain. “What the fuck-” Timing is everything, and you have the power. Lifting the lid and releasing the trigger, you pepper spray the man right in the eyes. He wails in agony, falling to his knees and clutching at the excruciating eyeballs.

You nod to your car, and throw the other shoe at the man for good measure. It connects with his balding head, he falls flat on the ground, and you start running towards Whitney in your now bare feet. Javier follows, immediately sliding into the passenger seat.

Now is the time you wish you’d put a little more money into your ride. Whitney sputters to life after a few panicked seconds, and you slam on the gas once your car is shifted in reverse, wasting no time in getting the fuck out of that parking garage. Once you’re on the road, Tie Guy now up on his knees in pain in your rearview mirror, you sigh in relief and shudder as the adrenaline dies down.

Javier’s head is swimming, probably from the intense hit he took to it. He looks over at you, in your disheveled formal gear, and can’t help but laugh. “Damn, abejita. Thought you were just a fluffy little bumblebee. Didn’t know you could sting.”

You giggle from the adrenaline and brake at a stop sign, pulling Javier’s face to yours and kissing him hard. His lip is split, you can taste the blood, but he doesn’t wince in pain so you kiss him harder for a minute, putting all of your energy and gratitude and passion for the man into it.

When he breaks away, he looks down. “You’re driving barefoot.”

“That’s the first fucking thing you have to say to me?” You laugh, though it’s far from offended. You shake your head as the consequences of earlier start to sink in, driving towards Javier’s hotel. “Javi, what the fuck? You didn’t need to throw the first punch, oh my God. He was a douche but you could’ve taken a much different path.”

“It’s the only way he’d learn his lesson,” Javier grumbles, his adrenaline-enhanced state of laughter turning to one of annoyance at being chided. Your expression matches his, wanting to fight back but not wanting to start anything. You just leave it be.

You gasp in realization of something else and go quiet for a moment. You look over at him, the frown breaking, and giggle a little. “Oh fuck. We didn’t pay the tab.”

Javier’s stoic expression breaks and he laughs a little too, the adrenaline still rushing through his system. “We just can’t go back there ever again, I guess.”

“That’s your answer?” You laugh as you look over at him, your heart in your eyes. “God, I love you,” you laugh off-handedly, then a shiver runs through your body, eyes practically bulging from your head. “Oh, fuck,” you murmur, looking over at him with furrowed brows. “I, uh, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Javier just smiles a little, taking one of your hand and tracing your knuckles with his thumb. “It’s okay.”

“I- well, and you don’t have to say it back by the way,” you stumble. “I know I haven’t known you that long, and we’re barely together already, but just everything tonight has me overwhelmed and I’ve never felt that much adrenaline, oh god, I think I meant it but you don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to,” you ramble again and continue, “just… yeah.”

Javier reaches over and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay,” he repeats and nods, his hand on the back of your head and his fingers softly sinking into your hair in a way that makes you whimper. When he pulls back, he finds your eyes to be round and watering. “What’s wrong?” he asks, brows lowering over those warm eyes.

You gulp, voice quivering when you speak. “That was embarrassing,” you admit with a watery laugh, the tears running down your face. “And that whole thing was so scary, I’ve never even had to use pepper spray, and he beat you up, and-”

“Pull over,” Javier orders and you comply, parking in a nearby spot in front of a store that’s long closed for the night. Your eyes are still slowly dripping and Javier takes both of your hands in his. “You did so good. You did the best possible thing, and I didn’t even have to tell you. Most people wouldn’t have done that.”

You pull one of your hands back and wipe your nose. “That was my favorite pair of shoes.”

It makes Javi crack a smile and a small laugh. “It’s my fault. I’ll buy you a new pair.”

“It’s not your fault,” you backtrack, voice still squeaky from the tears dripping from your eyes. You take in just how rough he looks, arms scratched, lip bleeding, eyes red and bloodshot and likely to bear the brunt of it in the morning. “Javi,” you coo, cupping his face. “Fuck. You’re really beat up.”

He shakes his head. “This is nothing, little bee,” he mumbles and kisses your knuckles. “What matters is that you’re okay. Come on, let’s get to the hotel and get my stuff then I’ll drive the rest of the way.”

With a sniffle, you nod and kiss him one more time. “I think I meant it,” you whisper to him, and he offers you a soft smile before returning back to sitting forward and buckling back into the seat, like you’d insisted he do earlier. He doesn’t ask what you meant. He knows.

On the drive back to Georgetown, Javier holds your hand, and you trace over the scratches and bruises on his knuckles when your eyes aren’t on the road. Traffic out of the city is slow, as nights usually are around this time, everyone flocking in to see the heart of the capital city. Your adrenaline rush is coming down, starting to make you tired and chilly. You look over at Javier and consider that he didn’t say he loved you back. It’s not fair of you, you shake your head and turn back. It’s been a week of knowing each other. He doesn’t have to, especially if he doesn’t feel that way.

The anxiety of Javier never responding to it makes the anxiety swirl through your brain as you drive. From the place you pulled over, it doesn’t take very long for you to arrive at the grand hotel, the warm lights casting a golden glow and radiating warmth. The adrenaline has faded by now, leaving you worn and warm-hearted as the consequences sink in: Javier would fight for you. You’re starting to suspect there aren’t many things he wouldn’t do for you.

You kiss his cheek before he gets out of the car. “I’ll park over here,” you tell him and point to a spot near the door. “That way, when you’re done checking out, you can just dump your stuff in here and we’ll head to my place.

Javier turns your face to his and kisses you softly, his mouth drawn up in a soft smile. “Sounds good, abejita.” He gets out of the car and walks inside, leaving his suit jacket in the car. He loosens his tie as he walks in, the muscles of his back and shoulders visible through his dress shirt. You could get used to that view.

It takes him a little bit; of course it does, you rationalize, since he has to pack up and check out. You rest your head against the window and lock your car, letting your eyes fall shut. You’re not sure if you drift off or not, just that it’s not much longer before there’s a tap at your car window.

You startle as you sit up and open your eyes, finding Javier there, holding his bag and suitcase. You unlock the car and get out, letting him take the driver’s side. He kisses you on the head before putting his things in the backseat. You walk around and get into the passenger side, the ground wet and cold from the December snow melting beneath your bare feet.

The car is cozy and warm compared to the chilly air you just spent a moment in. You gaze over at Javier lovingly as he takes control of the car, backing out of the spot. “You gotta tell me where to go,” he reminds you as he pulls out of the hotel parking lot.

Nuzzling in against the car door, you tell him the directions to your apartment, shivering intermittently. Your eyes slip shut and your arms squeeze around yourself tighter before Javier chuckles. “Here,” he says, reaching into the back and getting his suit jacket, draping it over you. It’s still warm from his body heat, a little muddy on the back from when Tie Guy knocked him down, but it’s the coziest thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of wearing. “Thanks, Hercules,” you tease as you rest your head against the chilled glass.

“Hercules?” He laughs.

“Self-explanatory,” you smile sleepily and shrug beneath his jacket.

-

When you’re finally at your apartment, you open the door a bit nervously then show him the living room, directly connected to the door. “Voila,” you chuckle and wrap his jacket tighter around yourself, walking inside. “Bathroom and bedroom are to the right, kitchen’s right there,” you inform him, turning to him and shrugging. “Sorry it’s kind of a mess.”

It’s far from a mess, Javier thinks, nothing compared to his place or Steve’s that week he went on a bender. There are houseplants under every window, and the decor is warm and inviting. It’s definitely very you. “It’s not,” he chuckles, setting his briefcase on the couch.

“It is by my standards,” you shrug. “Why don’t we get changed then we’ll ice your eyes?”

“My eyes are fine,” he insists.

“I don’t give a shit if you think they’re fine,” you shrug and pat his cheek lightly, wandering towards your bathroom. Javier follows you in the same direction but goes into your bedroom to change. Inside, you take off your makeup and adjust your hair in the mirror. You change into pajamas and sigh at your exhausted-looking reflection.

When you’re done, you walk into the bedroom to find Javier in sweatpants and shirtless, his back to you. His muscles are defined, moving as he rummages through his bag of belongings. God, he’s strong, and it makes you shiver a little at the sight. You place a hand between his shoulder blades, marveling at the softness and warmth of the skin there.

He jumps at the feeling but melts into your touch, especially as your nimble hands knead his back softly. He sighs at the feeling, cracking his neck and earning a few pops. You press a kiss to the nape of his neck and you can feel his body shiver beneath you.

You swallow hard, wanting to say something but not knowing what. The moment is soft and quiet, and you’re honestly surprised Javier hasn’t made a dry joke yet. That’s how you know he must like you touching him, and it makes you bite your lip to hide a smile. You kiss down his spine until you land between his shoulder blades, then break away and sigh. “I’m going to go get an ice pack for your eyes,” you inform him and give his worn shoulders one last squeeze.

You turn to leave, but Javier catches your waist, turning around himself. He kisses you softly, his hand cupping the side of your face. The heels of his hands are scraped, and you touch your face when he pulls away to find he transferred a little blood there. It doesn’t matter; it was worth it. “And some bandages and rubbing alcohol,” you chuckle, kissing his palm beneath his fingers, making your way to the kitchen.

To access the top shelf, you have to get on your knees on the counter. That’s where Javier finds you a few moments later, grabbing the medical supplies. You turn and sit on the edge, setting the medical supplies to one side while the ice pack sits at the other. You smile as you see him, sighing at the warmth he radiates in his white t-shirt and sweats. “Come here,” you beckon out in a quiet voice, like there’s some soft reverence now that you don’t dare to break.

Javier spreads your legs and stands between them, a hand resting on each thigh. He steals a kiss before you look away to grab the cotton swabs and hydrogen peroxide. You pour a little on the puff and Javier winces at the smell, all too familiar with the sting that’s sure to follow. He lifts his hand without you needing to ask, and you rub the wound softly.

“Fuck,” he grunts, and it’s gone as soon as it started.

“It’s not so bad,” you tease and wipe his other palm, earning a similar reaction. “Do you need me to kiss it better?” you offer sarcastically, raising one eyebrow at him.

“Yes please,” he smirks, and you cup his face as you kiss him, his warm body pressing flush to yours. God, you didn’t realize how cold your apartment was before just now, when the heat Javier seems to endlessly radiate seeps into every ounce of your being.

When you break away, you swallow and look away, desperately avoiding the longing for him you can already feel growing as an ache in your gut. “Bandage time. Give me one,” you say, holding your hand out for his. He rests his palm on yours and you unwrap a thick patch bandage, placing it over the scraped heel. You repeat the motion on the other hand, then kiss his knuckles. “Good as new, right?”

He nods softly, kissing you between your eyebrows. “Thank you, abejita.”

“Any time. Well, no. I don’t want you in any more fights,” you shake your head and laugh, looking down at his thick and worn hands. “Let’s go rest on the couch and ice your face,” you smile, pushing him back and sliding off the counter’s edge.

“I could use you in Colombia with me,” he chuckles, grabbing the ice packs as you set the supplies aside. “You make a much better nurse than the medics we have at the embassy.”

You blow a raspberry into the air, chuckling at the notion. “Just bring me with,” you laugh, leading him to the couch.

Javier takes one of your hands. “I would, but it would be no good for you down there. Too much danger, especially without our protection.”

“And what would that protection entail?” You ask sarcastically, playing into the joke before plopping on the couch.

Javier follows, draping an arm across your shoulder. “I’d have to ask my partner; he’s married, and I’m clearly not so I don’t know. I do know that you would be in harm’s way if I brought you just as my girlfriend. The narcos will fuck around with guys’ girlfriends, their flings, use them as bargaining chips. I’ve seen it happen. But the wives, they get the protection. If a narco fucked with them, they’d be good as dead.”

You nod along, listening. It’s kind of interesting. You have to admit, you don’t know much about what’s going on down there, but it’s fascinating to learn. You’ve always wanted to travel, especially to Latin or South America since you’d studied Spanish all through high school and your time at Georgetown. “Then you’ll have to sign me on as a nurse with the DEA, huh?” You flirt and kiss the tip of his nose.

He doesn’t answer, just laughs, lying back on the couch. “Here,” you say and tell him the ice pack, which he drapes over his eyes.

You snuggle into his side, enjoying the slow and steady heartbeat through his white t-shirt. “You know, we could always just ice it in bed,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his collarbone innocently, lightly.

He frowns. You can see it. “I’m sleeping on the couch while I’m here.”

“What? You are not sleeping on a couch for a month, Javier,” you insist and sit upright, separating yourself from him.

“I’ve known you for four days. You have your space, and this is it. I’m with you all the damn time anyway. I want to give you some room.” Javier’s words are true, but he really has a deeper meaning. He wants to fuck you. He wants to fucking ravage you until you’re screaming his name, he really does, but the gentleman deep inside tells him he needs to wait. It tells him that he doesn’t want to ruin this, the relationship you’re having. It’s December: almost a new year. He just got a new job. He’s going to be a new Javier. And if he sleeps in the same bed as you, that’s going to make things a hell of a lot more difficult.

The words he speaks are valid. You nod, though you’re only planning to let it slide for one night. “Okay.” You recline back again, against Javier’s chest and into his arms.

Javi knows the couch won’t be comfortable. He’s slept on plenty of them in his day. But if that’s what it will take for the relationship to stay like this, soft and light, he’ll take it. He’d sleep on a couch every night for the rest of his life if it means he gets to have you.

The clock creeps ever closer to midnight as you and Javier lie there, in each other’s arms, his eyes covered by the ice pack. You yawn and Javi realizes the ice pack has turned to slightly chilled water. “I think it’s time for bed, little bee,” he mumbles and sits up, opening his eyes again to find the moonlit apartment, blue with the night’s only light.

You nod and stand, stretching. Javier spots the small strip of skin evident between your top and bottoms, how soft and warm it looks, how much he’d like to kiss and bite it- no. Stop. If he had a squirt bottle, he’d be drenched from how many nos he says in his head.

Javier kisses you softly and follows you to a hall closet, where you grab him extra sheets and blankets, tossing extra pillows into the living room. The two of you make his makeshift bed, a sheet covering the cushions and several fluffy blankets on top of him. “Goodnight, Javi,” you murmur as you squat next to him, seated on the edge, kissing him goodnight.

“Goodnight, abejita,” he murmurs and kisses your forehead.

“Just holler if you need anything, okay?”

“I won’t,” he chuckles. “Go sleep. You need it.

You shake your head and cross your arms, making your way to your bedroom.

When you get in bed, you find yourself the drowsiest you’ve been in quite some time. The sleep you find is good, but you can’t help but think it would be better if Javier was in your bed too. Oh well. That’s a problem for tomorrow night.

-

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[theonewiththefanfics]

Come Back To Me (one-shot)

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes has gone through hell and back to reach his happiness, and his happiness came in the form of the love of his life. But what happens when she’s ripped away? What happens when she comes back and can no longer be happy herself? How does he get her back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Genre: AAAAANNNNNGGGGGSSSTTT, sooooo much angst. Lil bit of fluff as well (also, we’re gonna pretend like Endgame didn’t really happen, and WandaVision wasn’t as emotionally devastating), smut

Warnings: extreme sadness, depression, refusal to eat, unprotected sex, allusion to ra*e, but not the act. if there is anything else, please let me know and message me :) (MINIMALLY EDITED)

Word count: 9301 (it gon be a ride)

Bucky’s been scared many times in his life before. He wouldn’t admit that out loud, but most of the time, even as the Winter Soldier, he was terrified. Afraid to fail and of the consequences that would follow, afraid to succeed and have another person’s blood on his hands, afraid to look in the mirror, for the face staring back at him wasn’t quite his own, and even afraid to sleep in the dark, terrified the spirits of his victims would come out for revenge. But he’s never been as scared as he was in that moment, pointing a gun at the head of the love of his life, while she did the same, only without any clue as to who Bucky was.

           His mind was still processing how they’d gotten in that position, and it refused to accept it, because nothing, not a single thing had clued him in on how that day could turn south so quickly.

           It had started off as usual with Bucky’s flesh hand sliding down Y/N’s naked spine, as she had her face pressed against his toned chest, small snores escaping into the air, while a small dribble of drool trickled down the corner of her mouth.

           Bucky couldn’t help the smile lifting up his lips. It was moments like those, he believed in good things. 5 AM, the New York sky dark and without a trace of morning light probably until 8 AM, with his favourite person in the world pressed up against his side, soaking up his warmth, leeching it off without any shame after having been satisfied (or at least he hoped so) by his tongue, fingers and, well, other things as well.

           Y/N shifted a bit, trailing her palm up to his abs and settling in the middle of his chest to feel his strong heartbeat. Bucky laid his palm over hers. Even in her sleep, she didn’t hesitate to entwine their fingers and bring them under her chin, closer to her, as if she needed him next to her at all times.

           He felt bad, he truly did, as he squeezed Y/N’s side, making her frown. “You gotta wake up, dollface. We gotta get ready.”

           “Dunantdo,” she mumbled, and if Bucky hadn’t been there to take care of her drunken ass more times than he could count, he wouldn’t have been able to decipher her slurred words as “don’t want to.”

           “I know.” He chuckled. “And believe me, there’s nothing in this world I’d wanna do more than lay here with you… well maybe go down on you a few more times at some point as well, but the mission won’t happen on its own.”

           Bucky felt her chest rumble against his, as she laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind you going down on me, mission and all.” Her words were clearer, but still laced with sleep, and muffled by his skin while he felt her calves run against his as she stretched out.

           “I know you don’t. The missing hair chunks on my head prove that.”

           “Hey!” she slapped his chest but soothing it immediately blearily looking at him with a pout. “I didn’t pull that hard!”

           “I’m not complaining, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “In fact, if you ever stop doing that, I will make sure you regret it, but unfortunately we don’t have time for a rendezvous. Jet’s gonna be ready in an hour.”

           Finally, after having accepted the fact she won’t get any more sleep, Y/N lifted herself to rest on her elbow right next to Bucky’s ribs and opened her Y/E/C sleep-filled eyes to look into his cerulean ones. “We can still squeeze in a quickie if we hop into the shower together.”

           “We can,” Bucky hummed, metal fingers lifting up to cup her cheek and place a strand of unruly hair behind her ear. “But you know a quickie for us is never quick.”

           Y/N let out a scoff and pushed away from their fluffy duvet, making her shiver as she placed her feet on the cold floor. “And whose fault is that? You’re the one with the super-soldier stamina.”

           “And you,” he pinched her ass making her squeal before giving him the middle finger and taking the red Henley she’d so happily taken off his body the night before only to put it on herself, “are the completely irresistible one. Can you blame me for wanting to spend eternity between those two legs in every way possible?”

           The smile she threw him over her shoulder was nothing short of wicked, but instead of joining him in the warm embrace of the bed, Y/N made her way to the bathroom. “Keep talking, Mr Charmer. Might just get you what you want.”

           Bucky was happy about having super speed as well with how quickly he hopped out of the bed and pressed her against the cold tile wall.

           ***

           Much to Steve’s annoyance, although they were barely fifteen minutes late, Bucky and Y/N were late, and when he saw the smug grins both of them sported, he genuinely thought his eyes would get stuck at the back of his head with the hard roll he gave to them.

           “As a new policy,” he started, flipping over the mission file, “I’m putting you two on a celibate streak.”

           Y/N raised an eyebrow, plopping down on one of the metal benches as the Quinjet lifted in the air. “Really, Steve? Do you truly want to deal with Bucky like that? Cause I know, I don’t.”

           “Well, your fondueing is disrupting the schedule.”

           “Oh relax,” Nat butted in, throwing Y/N a chocolate bar, given how no one had had time to eat proper breakfast. “It’s not like the HYDRA base was going to suddenly disappear.” 

           “It could’ve,” the blond super soldier countered.

           Nat rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide the smile she had on her face. “Which is why we have an inside man, who as of three minutes ago has confirmed – they’re still there. And by the looks of it, not even trying to run.”

           Bucky’s arm slung around Y/N’s shoulder and pulled her closer. “See? Everything’s still on track. Besides, from what I heard from Sam, he’s loving the whole under-cover thing so we were doing him a favour.”

           Tony had gotten out of the pilot’s seat and joined in on everyone discussing Y/N’s and Bucky’s sex life, so that was her cue to switch the comms in her ear from ‘communication’ setting to the ‘music’ setting, leaning against Bucky’s side and closing her eyes, cashing in on those lost sleep minutes she’d spent in the shower with her lover. 

           When they had about forty minutes left in the air, Bucky once more woke Y/N up as she’d fallen asleep while Steve and Tony went over the last briefing. 

“Bucky and I will take the South-side entrance,” Steve said, pointing at the holographic map Tony had pulled up. “Y/N, Nat and Wanda you take the East, and go as easy as you can, Red.” Steve nudged his chin towards Wanda who nodded. “Just because you can bend reality doesn’t mean you can bend your health. That’s where the main intel storage unit. Get as much as you can and get out. Tony will take the air and wait until Sam joins before blowing everything up. Clint, Bruce and Thor have all checked in, and are already in their positions on the ground as blitz attack. Once F.R.I.D.A.Y has confirmed everyone’s location away from the blast zone Tony will detonate the bombs Sam has set up inside. Got it?”

Affirmative nods came from everyone on board, as they went to do final checks on their gear and equipment.

“Be careful out there, alright?” Bucky mumbled against Y/N’s neck as she double and triple checked her ammunition count, strapping a sword to her back as well, just in case. Her obsession with Medieval fantasy shows giving her a reason to make Tony pay for her lessons. 

           “We’re gonna be fine,” Y/N gently patted Bucky’s cheek before giving him a peck on the cheek as he wrapped two strong hands around her waist. “We always are.”

           But where typically she was right (most of the time), it was in that instance where she couldn’t be further from the truth if she’d tried. 

           Despite having Sam on the inside and him having gone through great lengths to make the infiltration as easy as possible, getting inside the building had been suspiciously easy, and that had set off everyone’s alarm bells, but knowing how important gathering the information was, they pressed on, keeping the thought that it could be a trap at the back of their minds at all times. 

           Thor, Bruce and Clint had started their ground attack two minutes before the rest had joined, with Vision guiding and disabling every system possible from back at the tower, so Tony and F.R.I.D.A.Y could put all of their focus on retaliating against the helacarriers coming their way. 

           “Cap, we’re in,” Natasha announced, ducking through the door, as Wanda covered her six, and Y/N lead the way in front, bullet shells flying out from her rifle. 

           Their comms crackled with echoes of gunfire outside as Tony lead them through the place right until they got to the main room where the whole system mainframe resided in.

           “Five-minute countdown commenced,” Y/N said it out loud to inform the rest of their team, as she stood behind Wanda, who’d created a red shield of magic, keeping the assault away and them inside the room.

           Five minutes until they had to get out of the building because in eight minutes time Tony and Vision, having infiltrated HYDRA’s system would blow everything to bits. If that failed, Wanda was there to provide a safety dome for the three of them, but it was just as a failsafe. Even though she now had full control of her powers, understood them better than ever, taking in a blast that will level a whole ass building was still a lot and there was no guarantee bricks and beams wouldn’t just settle right over them to then fall on top the women, she was still recuperating from a rival witch attack and it had taken out a bit more energy from her than usual.

           “How’s it looking over on your end, Vis?” Wanda asked through the comms, connecting back to the rest of the team in the tower.

           “The files are coming in, but too slowly,” his smooth voice invaded everyone’s earpieces. “And unfortunately F.R.I.D.A.Y’s mainframe won’t allow for a faster download, as she needs to scan everything for viruses.”

           “Should’ve used a flash-drive,” Y/N mumbled under her breath as she watched the HYDRA agents line outside the room, creating a two-level firing squad basically. 

           “Last time we did that, the files corrupted the drive and then erased themselves,” Tony butted in, then groaned as something hard hit him. “And no one needs to hear you complain about losing the six seasons of Brooklyn Nine-Nine again.”

           Y/N just rolled her eyes and steadied her rifle against her shoulder once Nat gave the go-sign. Then something beeped through everyone’s comms. The three-minute countdown before the whole building went down.

           “We’re barely at seventy-six percent,” Nat’s tone was calm, but the frustration didn’t go unnoticed by others.

           “Plan B then.” Wanda changed her stance a bit, but not by much as to not arouse any suspicion from the agents. If they could be taken out by the blast instead of her it’d be less energy used on her part.

           “Are you sure?” Sam finally butted in, having gotten in contact with Bucky who’d given him a comm linked just with their interface. “We can try and delay the blast,” Sam said right as Bucky commanded him to do so.

           “No,” Wanda stated. There were already at the two-minute mark. “Get out. We’ll take cover once the files are ours.”

           “Y/N,” she heard her lover start, but she just shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. 

           “Wanda’s right. Just be here to pull us out from the rubble. I have no want to climb through the wreckage.”

           A deep, long, exasperated sigh echoed in her ears, and it made her smile. “You know, sometimes I really hate you.”

           “Love you too, hot stuff.”

           A chorus of gags followed shortly after their little display of affection, and even though they were nowhere near one another they rolled their eyes almost at the exact same time, as Vision told Wanda to stay safe.

           “You owe me a foot massage, Vis.”

           “Gross.” Y/N chuckled.

           Wanda just threw her a smirk. “Imagine how we all feel about you and Bucky.”

           “Okay, we’re down to sixty seconds!” Tony said, making Y/N nervously glance back at Nat. 

           The assassin just shook her head. “Eighty-seven percent.”

           She gritted her teeth. If the building went out before they got the files they’d be stuck with just what they had. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, please speed up a bit, the place is about to get blown to bits.”

           “Rerouting the files to a different server,” the A.I. was immediately on it. “Will have to do the scan later.”

           “Thirty seconds, guys!” Steve shouted as whoever was still near the base scrambled to get out.

           Nat’s head whipped back to the computer screen. “Almost there.”

           But the whole thing seemed to have made the HYDRA agents realise something was amiss, yet it was too late for them. As Sam counted off the last five seconds, Natasha rushed to the other two women, grabbing them by their waists and crouching down while Wanda created a red dome of magic, explosions shaking the whole house.

           For a second the rumbling felt more like someone shaking you awake from a deep sleep until the walls of the room exploded, raining fire, brick and metal down on them. 

           That would’ve been fine if not for the fact that the floor underneath them decided to disappear as well, an array of curses coming from their mouths as Wanda immediately rounded out the shield while the rest of their teammates kept nagging them to respond.

           “Y/N, I swear to everything you hold dear, I will kill you myself if you die,” Bucky pretty much screamed, while she groaned as the sudden shift in balance had made her hit herself in the ribs with the rifle.

           She gritted her teeth, as Wanda used more of her powers to stabilise them. “We’re fine,” she responded. “No need to bring in the cavalry yet.”

           A deep sigh from what seemed like everyone echoed in her earpiece, and when Wanda was sure there’d be no second shockwaves from the blast or no debris that could fall right on top of them where she’d need to take her focus away, she flew the three women out of the ruined building and onto the grassy knoll where the team stood waiting. 

           Bucky was instantly next to Y/N, pulling her into his body and her lips against his once Wanda released her from the energy bubble. 

           “God, you’re disgusting,” Sam mumbled, and it was followed by a small yelp when someone hit him in the side.

           Y/N threw him a mischievous grin when she pulled away. “Don’t be a Bitter Betty. The offer to set you up still stands.”

           Sam cackled, as everyone had now regrouped and together were marching away to where the jet sat disguised between the trees. “Hard pass. You’re a worse matchmaker than Steve.”

           “Hey! Amelia was an amazing girl.”

           “She is except for the fact that she’s not interested in men.”

           Steve’s cheeks reddened up a bit, as Tony gave him a sympathetic pat. “ ‘S not my business to ask what people’s sexuality is. And blame yourself. You’re the one who’s called Sam.”

           “Oh, don’t you even –“ but his words were cut off midway as gunfire rained down on them from the sky.

           Instantly Wanda threw up a shield once more, Bucky going to cover Y/N with his body, but HYDRA opening fire from the top had left their sides unprotected, and a well-aimed shot from a bazooka ripped everyone apart. 

           The blast was minimised thanks to Wanda and her quickly directing a part of her magic to contain it, but the missile still threw them away.

           Y/N’s head was ringing, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the loud noise of the blast, because of her having hit her head against a tree trunk, or because of all the screams from her teammates, yet she had zero time to recuperate as an agent rushed towards her, knives ready for a kill.

           The first one embedded itself inside the tree, and barely not inside her head, as she moved to the side in the last minute, but a small sting still crept along the side of her head where he’d managed to split the skin.

           She was up and rolling away, grabbing one of her own knives from the side of her leg, finally unsheathing her sword. There was no time to put more clips in her guns.

           The first agent was quick work for Y/N, I mean he only three more knives left, and he’d been one of the unlucky ones to stand next to the building when it went off, so the shrapnel had ripped a piece of his Kevlar open giving her the perfect place to put her sword in, but the next ten were not as easy.

           She was worn out, tired from having experienced two explosions and some of the agents were new backup, which meant they had more strength and energy, but she wasn’t going to let them get the best of her. 

           At the back of her mind, Y/N heard everyone chiming in as to where they were, how many people were after them if they needed backup, but mostly Y/N heard Bucky’s calls that he was coming to get her, even though she hadn’t requested help, she was too busy dodging bullets and knives to even respond. 

           She was human, she needed help, she wanted help, but then something odd occurred to her – most, from what she’d heard through the comms, were fighting maybe four to five people at a time, with the exception of Wanda, Tony, Thor and Hulk who had tanks and cars going after them, while Y/N had a group of twenty to twenty-five people to manage.

           It was an ambush, it dawned on her.

           She wanted to scream at herself ‘No shit, the whole thing is an ambush’, but it was an ambush of Y/N specifically, which was odd given how she was pretty much one of the few who had no direct ties to HYDRA, but that one moment of confusion was enough for someone to land a slice to the side where her own suit had a hole in it. 

           “Oh, we don’t want you,” a voice went through her comms that she didn’t recognise. It was muffled as if someone was whispering through someone else’s mic. “But we’ll hurt you more than ever.”

           An unsettling quiet settled around before she clearly recognised Bucky breathing out a ‘no’ and then a panicked ‘Y/N!’ rip through his throat. Her head whipped to see one of the most frightening sights of her life that will forever be ingrained in her mind.

           Bucky was laying on the ground, completely paralysed without the ability to even flex a muscle, blue eyes turned towards her in terror and helplessness as he watched while nine more agents stormed towards her.

           She was capable, of course. He’d even experienced how capable the girl was on his own skin, and it had left his super-soldier skin bruised and battered for a few days. But right now, she was tired, she had zero ammo left, all of her knives were embedded in the heads or chests of other assailants and somewhere along the way her sword had snapped in half, leaving her with a jagged piece of steel, which was also protruding out from someone’s chest. Y/N had nothing, but her punches and kicks left. And even she knew there was no way she’d last long enough to get back to the jet in one piece.

           So, gathering whatever strength remained in her body, Y/N retaliated on last time. She heard people shouting that they were coming for her, and for a moment she truly believed so when a red ball of magic hit a group of seven agents knocking them down, but when Y/N’s eyes flitted to where it’d come from, she saw the agents subdue Wanda, as they'd somehow managed to put an electroshock collar around her neck. She fell to her knees gasping in pain.

           All of it, Y/N realised, every single thing that had happened had been a distraction. They’d split them apart, and the Avengers had most likely helped HYDRA accomplish their goal when the bomb went off. 

           For a moment she wondered why’d they’d want to take her, why not take their ‘weapons’ back, but just as quickly came the realisation of their words.

           Someone grabbed her by the ankle, yanking her down. 

           Y/N saw stars behind her eyelids, and her teeth clanked together. She was lucky her tongue hadn’t been between them. 

           Bucky screamed as if someone was ripping his heart from his chest.

           A gun hit her on the head.

           And then everything went black.

***

                      Bucky was going insane. He’d trade having his brain being put through the meatgrinder for seventy years once again if that meant Y/N was back with him, but the empty space in his bed, the unused shampoo and conditioner bottles, the dirty cup in the sink told him otherwise. She was gone, and he couldn’t do anything about it. 

           For two weeks he was basically a zombie, barely eating and functioning, spending most of his time by the interrogation room’s computer, following up on dead-end leads and any breadcrumb he could find, yet every single time he thought he’d gotten something as if life was mocking him, it turned into dust, just like his hope slowly was. 

           There was pretty much no one else but him, Sam and Wanda left in the tower, as the rest had split off into teams to go and search every left-over HYDRA base in the world. The only reason he wasn’t out there was because Steve had benched him.

“You’re compromised,” he’d said. Bucky couldn’t say he wasn’t.

Sam had stayed behind because during his last raid he’d gotten hit by some gas, rendering him pretty much useless for half a week, and no one felt comfortable enough to ask him to put his life on the line before a full recovery.

And Wanda… well, Wanda wasn’t taking the whole thing too great either, but she was still functioning, so she was just waiting for the jet to come in and fly her out to Serbia with Vision for a potential lead on Y/N.

Defeated for the night, he grabbed the coffee cup that once had been filled and trudged his way to the kitchen area. God, fucking hell, how much did it hurt to even breathe. 

           Just as he was about to pour himself another cup of the burning black liquid, all of his senses went haywire, and he spun around to look at the hallway of the living room. He instantly recognised the shadow standing in the middle of it, how the shape curved and sloped in such a familiar way. How could he not, when that shadow belonged to the woman, he intended to spend the rest of his life with, when his hands had memorised each and every way she was formed.

           “Dollface?” his voice cracked at the end, but when she entered the light, instead of warmth filling his heart at the relief of her being back, ice-cold fear rushed through him at the sight of the black muzzle across her nose and mouth, not to even mention the HYDRA symbol in the middle of the chest of her tactical suit. 

           The first shot rang out right after he blinked, giving him barely enough time to dodge it, but Y/N was already on the move rushing towards him and kicking her leg out so that her knee would connect with Bucky’s chin. 

           A sickening crunch echoed through the room, as his head met the marble floor, bright lights flashing behind his eyes. He could even feel his teeth vibrate from the impact. It was this second which he used to somewhat regain a sense of place, that Y/N used to straddle him down, hand going behind her back to pull out a gun, but Bucky knew her. He knew her moves and how she left her left side open.

           When his forehead connected to Y/N’s nose, he almost vomited at the feeling of bone-crunching against his skin, but it gave him enough time to deliver a blow to her side, disarming her before grabbing her bicep and pulling her arm behind her back, his own metal appendage wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her flush against him. 

           “Come on, sweetheart!” he was pleading, but his grip unyielding to her struggles. “Fight this. I know you can.”

           But to his horror, HYDRA had dug their nails into her mind deeper than he ever thought was possible, as she smashed the back of her head against his nose once more, red blood spilling everywhere.

           He staggered back, palm cradling his face, but he still had one free to block the fist that was coming in his direction. This caught her off guard for a millisecond, but not long enough for Bucky to do anything, as she smashed her foot against his knee, bringing him down, yet he’d expected it, using the position to his advantage and grabbing Y/N behind the legs, yanking her towards him, and making her back hit hard against the floor, dizzying and knocking the air out of the woman.

           It took him three seconds to slide over to the gun she’d discarded and to stand up, and it took three seconds for her to flip herself up and aim the gun that’d still been strapped to her thigh.

           Both of them were shaking, but both for different reasons. Bucky was shaking because he was making the love of his life look down the barrel of a gun, while she was shaking because the only thought on her mind was about if she didn’t finish the mission, the consequences would be more horrible than anything HYDRA had done to her before.

           “I don’t want to hurt you! Please snap out of it!” he hollered but didn’t lower his weapon. It went against all of his instincts to be in that position, even when the two sparred, Bucky, to Y/N’s annoyance who was hoping for a real fight, pulled his punches. It was unnatural for him to even consider harming her.

           She cocked her gun, didn’t even hesitate. 

           “Sorry, can’t do that. You’re my mission.”

           Bucky took in one last breath.

           It hitched in his throat.

           He blinked away the tears pooling at his bottom lashes.

He’d never pull the trigger. 

           She steadied her aim.

           Bucky closed his eyes.

           But the bullet never came. At least not for him.

The yelp of pain made him open his eyes just to see Y/N’s body jerk to the side and drop to her knee, hand clutching at her shoulder, with Sam behind her, his own gun aimed at her with a little stream of smoke coming out of the barrel. 

Yet the second her shock passed Y/N swiftly turned to Sam, gun in her usable palm when her body seized up, and she fell to the ground unconscious. 

           Bucky was panting, as he looked to see Redwing, two blue lights on each side dying out, as it deactivated the tasers. It took him a second to realize what had happened, but then he was by Y/N’s side, pulling her body up to cradle against his own.

           “What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky yelled, hovering his left hand over Y/N’s mouth. When the metal fogged over, his whole frame literally shuddered in relief, as he went on to the next job – stopping the bleeding before her breathing stopped.

           “She was gonna put a bullet between your eyes!”

           “You didn’t have to shoot her!”

           “Oh, I’m sorry,” Sam mocked, dropping to his knees and shredding apart a kitchen towel to press against the wound. “Would you have rather had your brains splattered against the floor?”

           “You had Redwing taser her! That was enough!”

           “If I hadn’t shot her, Redwing wouldn’t have been able to taser her.”

           He hated the fact wounding Y/N had been a necessary step in subduing her. No, Bucky told himself, not her. Not his Y/N, but whoever HYDRA had placed in her mind.

           As gently as possible, he scooped up her body and with Sam in tow made his way to the med bay.

           F.R.I.D.A.Y had alerted the medical staff of the situation, so they were ready when Bucky came in. Instantly two nurses took his girl from his arms and laid her down on a gurney, Helen Cho stepping up with surgical gloves.

           “A through and through in the shoulder,” she remarked more for the medical records than anyone else. “She’ll have a few painful weeks of recovery, but nothing fatal.”

           Bucky nodded in acknowledgement, but still, he didn’t let anyone touch Y/N without him being beside her. As Helen patched up her shoulder and strapped her down on the cell bed, he was still there beside her, both hands clutching onto her palm, not moving an inch away.

           A little while after Helen had left, he felt a presence hovering behind him, and Sam stepped into the room, leaning against the wall, brown eyes looking over Y/N.

           “How is she?”

           Bucky sighed, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. They were cracked and on the verge of bleeding despite the regenerative cream, Dr Cho had applied. “Asleep,” he mumbled. “So that’s better, I guess. Gives her time to heal.”

           He heard Sam shuffle around a bit, and then he entered Bucky’s peripheral as he sat down on a chair next to the bed.“It took them thirty years to break you, yet it took them two weeks to break her…” Sam said biting on his lip, and the statement made anger course through Bucky’s veins.

           “Are you seriously calling her fucking weak?” He snapped looking at his fellow Avenger. “You have no idea what kind of torture they pu-“

           “I’m not calling her weak,” Sam interrupted. “Y/N is one of the strongest people out there. What I’m saying is – back then it took them years to break a person… now it took them barely fourteen days… what else have they ‘improved’ on?”

           The thought of Y/N having her mind ripped apart and then put back together as if she was some ragdoll made bile rise in Bucky’s throat, and it didn’t settle when he thought of how far that horrid machine had come since he’d been in one. 

           But as much as Bucky wanted revenge, as much as he wanted to destroy HYDRA, to make sure what happened to Y/N never happens again to anyone else, let alone if what Sam implied was true, he couldn’t leave her, not when she would need a familiar face the most. 

           He gulped, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on her hand to steady himself. Just the thought of her in all that pain made him go to the edge of breaking apart. “She’s gonna be alright, isn’t she?” If there was one thing Bucky appreciated from Sam it was his honesty.

           “In the long run most likely. You’d be the proof of that…” Sam sighed. “But first, we gotta make sure she doesn’t shut people out.”

           But that was most definitely easier said than done, given how the second Y/N woke up, which was about a day later after being knocked-out cold when she realised what had happened, it was not like a wall had magically appeared between her and anyone from the team, but a fucking fortress surrounded by an impenetrable mountainous barrier, and she was the only citizen in that mind castle. And Bucky was the first one behind the door.

           It broke his heart to see Y/N pretty much shut down. She refused to eat, barely drank the water provided, and couldn’t sleep one bit, yet what hurt most was she absolutely rejected even the thought of going back to their shared room, and instead stayed in her barren cell, white walls, with a thin blanket and a paper-like pillow. It got so bad they had to put her on an IV drip so she wouldn’t waste away. But it didn’t matter to her. She was like a ragdoll.

           It was about five days later when she said her first words. Y/N had her head in her hands, matted Y/H/C strands spilling between her fingers, as her nails dug deeper into her skull. That’s the position she’d been sitting in for the past five hours, not even bothering to lift her eyes as a paper plate with a meal, a single plastic spoon next to it and a paper cup of water was slid through the opening at the bottom of her cell door. She wasn’t hungry anyway. In fact, what she really wanted was to disappear from the surface of the earth, for the ground to open and be swallowed by molten lava or have a sharknado crash in and get eaten by a great white.

           “How’re you feeling?” Sam asked arms crossed as he leaned against the entrance to the door. He’d been asking that since the first time she opened her eyes, but never received a response, so when the scoff she let out was almost inaudible, but he still picked up on it, he straightened out. “Just peachy,” Y/N mumbled. “Absolutely fantastic. Ten out of ten would recommend.”

           “Y/N…”

           He really didn’t have anything to say. I mean what could you possibly say… but he had to at least try, given how miserable Bucky was. He’d heard him sob so loud through two closed doors and a running shower, that he had to do something.

           Sam swallowed hard before entering the room and cautiously, keeping as much space as possible between the two, sat down next to Y/N. He wasn’t afraid of her. He could never be. But he knew she needed to let him closer on her own terms. “You can’t keep going like this. You can’t keep everything in. If you don’t wanna talk to the shrink, it’s fine, but at least talk to someone else…”

           “I am talking to you.”

           “Yes, but you know who I mean.”

“How am I supposed to even look at him?” Her head shot up, and tears threatened to spill down her face. “How am I supposed to talk to him? To touch him, knowing I almost killed him.”

“It wasn’t you.”

“But it was!” The words were a hiss. “It was me. I understood everything I was doing, I knew who he was, I knew what we were to one another, yet…” she choked in the middle of the sentence, not wanting to say the truth. “I wasn’t going to hesitate. I was going to kill him. If you hadn’t gotten involved, one more second and Bucky would’ve been dead. Because of me.”

“HYDRA messed with your brain,” Sam stated. “I know that everyone knows that and Bucky most of all. Why do you think he couldn’t pull the trigger?”

“Because he’s an idiot.”

“No, because he’s been in the exact same situation.”

She bit her lip. All her brain was doing was screaming that Sam was right, to listen to him, he knew what he was talking about, but the guilt, the absolutely corrosive horror at herself for what she was going to do wouldn’t let common sense come through. “I just.” Y/N choked and then cleared her throat. “Just tell him I don’t want to see him. I – I can’t see him.”

Sam did know heartbreak. He’d felt it when his first girlfriend had broken up with him, he’d felt it in the army when his friends lost limbs and lives, and now he felt it looking at two of the people he’d grown closest to struggle to find one another and themselves.

He cleared his throat standing up and wiping hind palms down his thighs. “Wanda is also – “

But Y/N didn’t let him finish the sentence. “No.” She shook her head. “No one. Please.” She tucked her face against her knees. “I just wanna be alone.”

And so he left her alone. In fact, everyone did so. 

For a whole month, the usually lively tower was a glass structure of sombre and pain. Everyone was hurting. Wanda had retreated to her room, sitcoms on the rerun, Vision always by her side as she tried to manage the sadness of one of her dearest friends going through such a tough time and the guilt of not being able to help Y/N, to save her from that pain. Nat and Clint along with Tony had locked themselves in one of the lower levels of the tower analysing the data she’d gathered. They needed to occupy themselves with something, otherwise, they’d be overcome by their own thoughts and they were too dark to manage at that moment. Bruce and Thor had relegated themselves to the lab doing experiment after experiment, trying to find out how HYDRA had managed to do such damage to Y/N. 

Steve, however… Steve was doing quite bad. He felt probably the most amount of guilt than the rest of his teammates. He’d taken up the role of the leader, he was supposed to make sure everyone stayed safe. Yes, they were the most skilled people in the world, but they trusted him to make the best calls. And him not having taken into account a blitz attack from HYDRA after their blitz attack had broken two of his friends because Bucky was doing just as bad as Y/N, if not even worse.

He wouldn’t sleep, he couldn’t; Steve heard his cries each night until, at twelve of one AM, they’d cease, and he’d make his way to the cells. Steve had told Y/N a week after she’d been brought back that there was no reason for her to stay in there. She’d just sat on the bed, arms around her knees and staring at the wall. She didn’t go back to her room. 

But each night Bucky would sit by the glass doors and look at the frame of the love of his life, curled underneath a white duvet, a single pillow underneath her head (Y/N loved pillows, she couldn’t sleep without at least four of them) body in a foetal position. She looked so broken. She was. And because of that, so was he.

It was about three AM at night, when his routine was shaken up by none other than Y/N. Typically she’d sleep through the night not even stirring, slipping into the cot at nine PM and then waking up at six AM when Helen came in to switch her IV. She was eating now, but still too little for it to be enough. 

However, that night she was stirred awake by the feeling of someone watching her, not the camera that was always on but by human eyes.

That was the first time she’d seen Bucky since having woken up and regaining control of her body.

Her breath hitched when their eyes met, and his whole body straightened out. Y/N remained under the covers, while Bucky sat by the doors still. His palm pressed against the glass.

“Hi, doll.”

Two words, but that was enough for the dam to break. Tears spilt down her face, and without a second to spare Bucky had rushed inside and laid down next to her, strong arms weaving around her shaking body, as his own pain merged with hers.

All Y/N could manage to say was ‘I’m so sorry,' and it became a mantra she repeated in Bucky’s chest, hoping that somehow the words would find their way and settle beneath his skin so he could understand with his whole being how much she meant them. 

           “Please.” He was close to sobbing by that point, hand moving to cup her cheek. “Please let me help.”

“I can’t, Bucky! I can’t!” Y/N was close to complete hysterics by this point. “Every time I even think about you, I remember the emptiness, the absolute numbness that was in me, when I pointed a gun at your face, and I meant to kill you! I was going to pull the trigger, if not for Sam… So,” she gulped looking down at the ground, at their feet. “Tell me how the hell am I supposed to let you anywhere near me when I’m terrified of myself.”

           The grip he had on her face, was tight, strong and sure. “Because it wasn’t you. I know what it’s like to have your brain scrambled around and rearranged with false truths and present them as real… but the thing is – they’re not. And you taught me that. You were the one who made me realise it, dollface. Now let me do the same for you.”

           “I can’t even look at myself in the mirror because every time I do, I see that – that monster staring back at me.”

           “Reflections are deceiving,” Bucky whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “Mirrors can’t and will never show the truth. It’s a twisted, flipped and made-up version of us, and we can’t allow ourselves to believe it. It’s not us.”

           And despite the pain, despite the guilt and anxiousness, Y/N chuckled, letting out a small sound of happiness for the first time in a while. “When did you get so wise, Gandalf?”

           She could feel the relief that flooded Bucky’s body slowly seep into her own. “Well, re-reading ‘The Hobbit’ helped… but more so you. You taught me that. You made me realise the man that haunts my nightmares might have my face, but it’s not me. He’s not me and I’m not him.”

           “Will you…” Her voice shook as she said the words as if there was a possibility, he could say no. “Will you help me?”

           “You never, ever have to ask for help. I’m always here for you. Whatever you need, I’m always here. I’m so sorry, so sorry you had to go through that.”

           And for the first time in six weeks did Bucky get to hug Y/N. Feeling her body melt into his almost made him have a breakdown of his own, as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and grabbed onto him like her life depended on the tightness of her grip.

           Six weeks, almost two months without Y/N in every imaginable way had almost broken Bucky to a point of no return. Had they gone longer periods of time without seeing one another? Sure, but this was different. When the person you love is right there, but more unreachable than when they’re thousands of miles away, that’s a different kind of pain. 

           She didn’t release her grip form him, as Bucky shifted and sat up, her legs moving to lace around his waist on instinct. With one hand underneath her thighs the other going to take off the IV bag from the stand, he stood up and moved through the tower, finally retreating to his room, where he took off a photo frame from the wall and hung up the medical supply while gently laying Y/N down between his sheets.

           She’d been in that position many times before in different states of undress, in different emotional states as well, but not once had she been alone there. And neither would she be alone now. 

           It was the first night Bucky slept without waking up, and when he did Y/N’s head was resting on his chest. He held her a bit tighter then.

***

           The road to recovery was slow. 

           It started with her spending her days and nights in Bucky’s room, no longer isolating herself from him. It turned to late-night talks where they just chatted about miscellaneous things, and if she felt comfortable enough, then about every heavy thing pressing on her heart. Then she ventured off to her own room, and once evening slipped inside the room of who was her neighbour. She slept next to Wanda that night.

           The next night, she and Wanda sneaked inside Nat’s bedroom, and just hung out a bit, painting their nails. When Y/N went to sleep next to Bucky, she felt as light as the light-yellow colour adorning her fingers.

           On the morning of the eleventh day of her recovery, she woke up earlier and made everyone breakfast, putting some extra chocolate chips in Sam’s pancakes. He deserved it for all the trouble he’d gone through. The smile on his lips and the kiss on her head from him meant more than any thank you he could say. 

           But it was about a month down the line, after evenings where she’d joined in on the movie nights and had discussed the gathered intelligence from other missions as well as the tactics agents should employ when Y/N took her biggest step yet.

           Bucky was laying on his bed ‘The Two Towers’ between his fingers, the metal appendage flipping the pages as gently as if they were made from butterfly wings, when Y/N came out of the bathroom, hair wet and dripping onto her nightshirt. Well, it was actually one of Bucky’s shirts, but at this point, every piece of clothing he owned belonged to her as well. Besides, in his humble opinion, she wore them better than he ever could. 

           “Buck?”

           “Yeah?” he hummed, flipping to another page.

           “Buck I – “ she took in a breath. “I want to have sex.”

           “What? Ow!” The book had slipped from his hands and the edge hit his eyebrow, making Y/N hiss, and instantly come over to try and soothe the hurt part.

           “I mean – “ Bucky stuttered much like his heart. “I’d love to. Gosh, dollface, you know I’d do anything you ever wanted me. Tell me to spend forever between your legs, and I will, but… Please don’t feel like we have to. You’re still healing, and –“

           “I want to,” Y/N was quick to quench his doubt, running a gentle finger over his brow. “I do. I – I need to feel you. I need to feel… I need to feel whole, and I haven’t in so long.”

           His hand cupped her cheek. “You are whole. You don’t need me to complete you. You don’t need anyone to complete you.”

           “I –“ She huffed, struggling to form the thought running through her brain into words. “I – I know that. At least I think so. But… but there is this part inside me, I can’t seem to heal myself, this crack that no matter how hard I try to mend just won’t do. And that’s because that part can only be filled by love. And yours is the strongest one I have in my life.”

           A tear slipped down his cheek. “Oh, doll…”

           Her legs slowly shifted so they were straddling him as Bucky leaned up in a sitting position, palms dropping to her hips and sliding underneath her PJs to touch the soft skin of her back.

           His nose skimmed against hers, and Y/N sighed at the feeling. She’d slept like that – nose to nose curled up next to Bucky – for close to a month and a half now, but the anticipation of the kiss turned her into a bundle of nerves. 

           “One word,” he breathed against her skin, pressing a kiss to her collarbone before looking deeply into her eyes. “One word and we stop.”

           And even though she wanted to say there was no doubt in her mind about doing it, she nodded. He needed the reassurance just as much as she did that if something happened, he’d be there for her.

           When Bucky’s lips met hers, it was just like the first kiss they’d shared. A bit tentative, unsure, yet filled with so much restrained passion and pure love it was overwhelming, and Y/N’s eyes immediately filled with tears.

           “Darling, let’s just not do this,” Bucky said noticing the clear pearls dripping down her cheeks, but she shook her head.

           “I just missed you so much. I missed letting you love me.”

           “Well, it’s a good thing people don’t need permission to love. I never stopped. I can’t imagine ever not loving you.”

           His mouth was on hers once again. Bucky let Y/N lead the whole time. He didn’t deny himself from exploring her body, from feeling every crook, dip, and crevice of her form, but she was always in control.

           When her shirt dropped to the floor, she was the one who started lifting it up.

           When she laid down to pull Bucky on top, she was the one who flipped them over and pulled him on top.

           Her hands skimmed the band of his boxers, and Bucky unconsciously ground against Y/N’s clothed core at the feeling, both letting out moans of relief at the friction.

           “Can you take ‘em off?” she breathed, as Bucky left beautiful marks on her neck and chest so they could bloom through the night and could be greeted by them in the morning. 

           “You sure?”

           She nodded. “Please.”

           They did it together. Y/N linked her fingers behind the fabric and pulled it down his legs while he shimmied out from the boxers and kicked it to the floor. 

           “Can I take yours off?”

           As sure as she was about everything that was going on, there was still some hesitancy in her body, and he immediately sensed it, pulling a little bit away. “Y/N…”

           When her hands went to wrap around his wrists where they rested against her hips, horror washed over Bucky like a cold shower. “Did they…?”

           “No!” Y/N was immediate to answer. “No, they didn’t… but… they said after they were done with me after they turned me into their puppet… after they’d make me hurt you, you’d never want to touch me. That, in your last moments, you’d only have hate in your heart for me, and I’d have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

           He gently put a finger underneath her chin and lifted her head. “Even when I was staring down that barrel, all I could think about was how much I love you. How I’d give my life for you even if you were the one taking it. I could never hate you.”

           A violent sob ripped through her chest. “I don’t deserve you.”

           “You deserve the world, and I��ll try to give as much of it to you as I can.”

           She couldn’t take much more of his confessions because Y/N’s chest was already as full as it could be of love, so instead, she pulled Bucky back down for a passion-filled kiss, while shimmying out from her own underwear.

           “Condom?”

           “No,” Y/N shook her head. “Not this time. Need to feel you as you are.”

           “You sure?”

           She nodded. “Helen put me back on the pill about a month ago.”

           Bucky shuddered, nodding. “Alright. Okay. But I need to make sure I don’t hurt you first.”

           Y/N was about to say he could never hurt her, when two of his fingers slipped along her folds, cutting her words off in favour of the groan of pleasure.

           “Gotta take care of my girl the right way.”

           A moan seeped into Bucky’s skin when he pushed a cold metal digit into her tight entrance. His arm had the added feature to feel things if he wanted or switch it off when he didn’t want to, which was a nice thing, especially during missions (he’d forgotten to do so one time and when a bullet bounced off, it wasn’t like a bee bumping against glass, hot pain had rippled through his whole arm, so it was a good idea on Shuri’s part), but this time it was on, and the absolutely exquisite pressure and warmth that squeezed around his digits was enough to make him grind against the mattress to alleviate his own growing pressure.

           “Bucky, please,” Y/N practically mewled, eyes screwed shut, nails digging into his skin, making him groan in pleasure. He’d forgotten how delicious the sounds were and how close to the edge just the feeling of her nails marking half-moons into his back could bring him. 

           “Fuck,” he swore leaning up to kiss her once more, while he increased the speed of which his fingers were going in and out of her, while his thumb rubbed circles around her clit, and when he hotly breathed against her neck to ‘soak him all down to his elbows’ Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head and she arched up from the bed as an orgasm shattered her world.

           Gently he coaxed her through the orgasm while muttering praises against her mouth.

           “You’re so beautiful,” Bucky sighed leaning to rest on his elbows. “So fucking gorgeous.”

           Y/N smiled, stroking his cheek. “You’re beautiful too, Bucky. More than you’ll ever know or will let yourself believe me.”

           The crooked smirk which he threw her reminded the one from Steve’s tales of him and his skirt-chasing days. “Guess you’ll have to convince me.”

           “With pleasure.”

           Her hand snaked down to where he’d been running the tip of his cock between her folds, before gently pressing him down so he could easily slide inside. When he was sheeted a moan of satisfaction came from both of them.

           It was like homecoming. Like curling up in a warm bed on a cold winter’s night. It was just right.

           “God, I could stay like this forever.” Bucky tucked a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

           “We have forever and then some.”

           A look she could not figure out crossed his face. It was like absolute joy mixed with fear and terror. “You promise?”

           Y/N kissed him, trying to pour all of her love into the single act. “With everything I have in me.”

           He took that as the cue that he could move and experimentally rolled his hips towards hers. Bit by bit he picked up the pace, breaths turning into pants broken up by moans, sweat beading along his skin, a small burn appearing in his knees, but even that discomfort couldn’t overshadow the heavenly pleasure rippling through his veins.

           She’d always been the epitome of beauty and love, that’s how completely Bucky had fallen for her, and he could only hope he was the same for her. 

           “Bucky,” she choked out. “So close.”

           “Yeah?” His vision was starting to go white at the edges.

           “Mhm – ohh!” The confirmation turned into a squeal when he hit just that right spot, he concentrated all his thrusts to match it, and soon enough both of them were falling over the edge, clinging onto the other as if they were the last lifeline that existed for them.

           “Hey,” Bucky cooed, opening his eyes and seeing how furrowed Y/N’s brow was, how hard she was fighting to resurface. “Come back to me. Come back, doll.”

           Slowly, Y/N’s breathing evened out, her trembling became small shudders from the aftershock of the pleasure, and her lids fluttered, gaze meeting his.

           She’d come back.

           She’d always come back to her home.

           To Bucky.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Bucky tag list: @thunderous-flower @who-cares-rn @projectxhappiness @callmebucky-doll @coal000 @killuaenthusiast @courtneychicken @sophiealiice @raquelbc2003 @watch-out-for-thorns @potentially-kinetic @thatonegirljessy99 @proxinge @bbkenna @buckysclub @ulired @fangirlofeverythingbasically @mrsalh32611 @horrorx570ximagines @the-nargles-made-me-do-it @pooslie @itsisabelanotisabella @httpmcrvel @purplebananatragedy @pxrrishly @parker-barnes-af @skulliebythesea​ @california-grown​ @stevehesaidabadlanguageword @belongsto-prachi​ @hello-i-am-insane​ @its-nott-my-problem @emmalbg @hopeinahotbox

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

Marvel tags: @nerissa98​ @happyseagrill​ @asguardiansoftheavengers​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @wishingforahome​ @pizzarollpatrol​ @desir-ae​

A/N: My Bucky boiiiii! I’m back! hope y’all like this rollercoaster :)

P.S. if you see yourself on my tag list and you’re crossed out means the tag didn’t work. if you still wanna be on the tag list please message me your new url and what was your old one so I can change it (if it’s not the change of the url then I genuinely dunno what could be the problem)

P.S.S. my tags are always open. 

P.S.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms without specific written permission and don’t plagiarise them 

[irishprincess89]

SO THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING AFTER READING STORIES FOR MANY YEARS IVE NOW DECIDED TO TRY MY HAND AND GIVE MY OWN IDEAS A GO. THIS WILL BE THE FIRST OF HOPEFULLY MANY STORIES THAT IVE GOT FLOATING AROUND IN MY BRAIN , HOPEFULLY PEOPLE WILL LIKE IT AND PLEASE DONT BE AFRAID TO LEAVE ANY CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM., I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR IF PEOPLE HAVE ANY IDEAS ON HOW I COULD IMPROVE , SO PLEASE BARE WITH ME WHILE I EXPLORE AND LEARN. 

THERE IS NO SY IN THE FIRST CHAPTER BUT DONT WORRY HE WILL BE HERE SOON... MUCH LOVE TO ALL YOU BEAUTIFUL TALENTED READERS AND WRITERS HERE <3

Tag list ❤️

@summersong69 @endofalldays01

LADY IN RED <3 CHAPTER 1

Today was the day you would finally be returning home to your small hometown in texas, after attending collage in new york, after graduating high school you had packed up your life and moved away from the quite little town of canyon.

Growing up in such a small town as a child you always wanted to leave to a big city to make something of yourself. You dreamed of being a fashion designer and one day owning your very own clothing store and you knew that if you wanted to make your dream a reality you needed to leave the small town you called home.

At first it was very hard being on your own in a strange new city, not knowing a single person but you stuck to it and managed to make your dream come true.

Now 4 years later you where once again packing up your life in new york and heading back to the place you spent your whole life working your butt off to leave.

Your older sister casey was getting married to her high school sweetheart jake and had asked you to help her design her dress for the biggest day of her life, og course you had jumped at the opportunity to help her with her dress. Casey and you had been very close growing up even if she was 7 years older than you, she always looked out for you growing up sometimes acting more like a mother than a sister, so protective and loving to you. She always said from the moment your mother came home from the hospital with a little bundle all wrapped in pink she was instantly in love.

Rolling out of bed you turned to your dresser to turn your alarm off and headed towards the bathroom to take a shower, turning the water on you let it run a few moments to get the water to the right temperature before stripping off and getting in.

Once you finished scrubbing your body and washing your H/C you stepped out of the shower and wrapped a large fluffy towel around yourself.

Entering your room you headed toward the clothes you had left out for your flight since you had packed your whole wardrobe into 2 large suitcases that sat in the hallway of your apartment ready for when your cab would arrive at 9 am to take you to the airport.

After drying off and putting on a pair of dark wash jeans and a light pink sweater since it was early spring and still quite chilly in the city, you dried your hair and left the bedroom to grab some breakfast since it was still only 8.15. After a small breakfast of a bagel with some cream cheese and a large cup of coffee, you went back to your bedroom to double check you had everything packed and ready to go. 

All your clothes and personal items would be going with you in your suitcases and the furniture would be going into storage until you find a chance to get it all moved to your hometown.

You would be staying in your parents house that was left to you and your sister after they both passed away in an accident 2 years gone. 

Casey had been staying in the house until jake had asked her to move in almost a year ago, as he was in the military he felt that it would be best for them to live together as when he was on leave for a couple months every few months they could spend as much time together until he had to be deployed again, it just made so much more sense for them to stay together.

Your phone vibrated on the side table alerting you that your cab was outside, so grabbing you bag making sure your passport, ticket, purse and phone where inside you went and collected your suitcases from the hallway, taking one last look at the apartment that had been the home of many happy memories from the past 4 years you closed the door and headed down the hall to the elevator.

Checking in at the airport was a breeze, once going through security and checking your baggage you headed towards the starbucks to get yourself an iced latte. Taking a seat at one of the small cafe tables drink in hand and your favorite book you settled in hoping to get through a couple chapters before your flight was called.

You let yourself get lost in the pages of the romance novel, imagining yourself as the female protagonist who falls in love with a stranger whilst on a spur of the moment trip around europe, first meeting the adonis of a man in paris, spending a romantic week sightseeing, dining and enjoying the freedom of not having a care in the world while enjoying the passion and romance that is the city of love.

What you would give to be able to just spontaneously jump on a plane and head off into the unknown, to fall in love with a man like the stranger in your novel, but you had never had the confidence in yourself especially around men. You had a couple boyfriends over the years but none had ever lasted to long, not until your last boyfriend.

Thinking of your ex boyfriend left a horrible taste in your mouth, you had met tom at a bar one night after your classmate a friend had dragged you to, and hit it off immediately. He was such a sweet man, he listened to you when you explained that you where studying fashion at the collage not far from the bar, he explained he was a layer and that he had moved to the city a month before to work at one of the top law firms in new york.

After a few drinks your friend decided it was time to head home so you had exanged numbers with top with a promise from him to call you, a he did call 2 days later to ask you out to dinner that following weekend.

One date turned into another and after a month he had asked you to be his girlfriend, of course you had said yes. He was a handsom man, smart and very attentive, you couldnt help but to start developing strong feelings for the man you had known for just a few weeks.

Everything was perfect you had been dating for almost 2 years, when one night tom had called to cancel dinner at your place saying he had a big case coming up and really needed to get his case notes done so would be pretty busy for the next couple day and wouldnt be able to see you.

You had felt bad that he would be run off his feet so you decided to bring him dinner, knowing that when he got really into his work he sometimes forgets to take a break, so you taught having a homemade meal would help.

Having cooked and boxed up one of his favorites lasagna with side salad you made your way across the city to his apartment.

Putting the key he had giving you after your 1 year anniversary you opened the door, not seeing tom at his usual spot he worked at you looked around the living space not seeing him anywhere, maybe hes in the bathroom you taught making your way towards his bedroom to check the ensuite. Pushing the door open you felt the box with the food slip from your grip, there was tom laying on his bed with a beautiful skinny blonde bouncing up and down ontop of him moaning his name with every drop of her pelvic to his. Hearing the sob that left your mouth tom pushed the girl from him to the side and jumped up from the bed quickly wrapping the bedsheet around his waist, ‘’baby its not what it looks like’’ he rushed out while trying to reach for you.

‘’Dont touch me you bastard’’ you sobbed taking a step back out into the hall, turning and running out the apartment you ran all the way back to your car tears streaming down your cheeks, you could feel your heart breaking into pieces, seeing the man you loved, who you trusted, who you taught would be your end all that you would marry and have children, grow old together, being so wrapped up in passion with someone else broke you.

You had ignored his calls and text, his attempts to but your forgiveness, sending you flowers everyday which you had left in the hallway outside your apartment not wanting to have anything from him inside your safe space.

After moping around your home for 3 weeks filling up on pints of icecream, multiple boxed of tissues and endless romantic movies,You had packed up all the things that tom had left at yours and all the gifts he had showered you with over the course of your relationship and sent one final message to him telling him that he can come get the stuff from out front and to delete your number and never contact you again.

That had been almost a year ago and you where still healing from the heartbreak, so when your sister had told you she was getting married and wanted your help organizing the wedding, you jumped at the chance to get away from the city you where once so exited to live that now just held so many upsetting memories.

Coming out of the memory you heard the woman on the intercom call for your flight number, picking up your now empty cup throwing it in the trash you packed your book back into your bag and started the long walk to the gate for your flight, looking forward to be going back to your home again.

Stepping off the plane the texan sun was warm, such a difference to the chilly spring weather in new york. 

Your sister had called you a few days ago and said she would pick you up from the airport seeing as you didnt have a car here in texas.

Walking towards baggage claim you where so exited to see her, you hadnt seen her since the funeral of your parents 2 years ago.

Once you got your cases you made your way to the exit while looking around to see if you could spot the small stature of your sister.

Stepping out into the sun you heard your name being called, turning to the left you seen a 6’2 male standing waving his hand like a crazy person.

Smiling you made your way towards him straight into his outstretched arms, wrapping your own arms around his large stonelike body you hugged his as tight as you could.

‘’Hey little lady how was your flight’’ he squeezed you a little tighter before pulling away slightly to look at you.

‘’It was alright, wheres casey’’ you questioned while looking around to see if she was anywhere near.

‘’Im not supposed to say, but shes been organizing a homecoming bbq for you’’ he said while taking hold of your cases in each hand and stalking towards the truck parked across from the main entrance.

‘’So why did you tell me if your not supposed to’’ you giggled stepping up into the passenger side of the truck while your soon to be brother in-law put the cases in the back.

Entering the driver side he gives you a hard look, ‘’i know how much you hate suprises, and i dont want you feeling bad your first day back’’ turning the key in the ignition he starts the truck and makes his way out to the highway toward the outskirts of the countryside.

You and jake had chatted the whole ride to your parents house, him about the wedding and what your sister had for ideas she had everything planned down to a tea, you didnt think there was any need for you to help if she was so organised except for the dress.

Turning up the dirt path that leads to your parents you couldnt help but take in the beautiful scenery. Glancing out into the endless fields of green, the tall rows of trees surrounding the stunning 2 story farm house that had been your haven as a child, you remember spending many summer days running through the flowers in the fields with casey chasing butterflies with a net hoping to catch one to put in a jar, the many night staring up at the stars shining so bright in the black ink. Living in new york one of the thing you missed most was the beautiful night sky lite up by the balls of gas millions of miles above.

Parking the truck jake stepped down while you fixed your gaze out the front screen at the light blue home with the large white wrap around porch, it hadnt changed a bit since you had left 4 years ago.

The wooden bench swing still nestled off to the right hand side of the porch, the colorfull flowers hanging from the woven baskets all along the wooden railing of the porch, your mother had alway had flowers around the house, and you guess casey had kept them alive since your mother had gone.

Lost in taught you didnt hear jake come up behind you with the cases, so it startled you when he spoke right beside you.

‘’So casey is expecting you at ours at 6, ive to tell you its for a family dinner, just us’’ he chuckles knowing that your sister would be so mad if she knew he told you the real reason she wanted you over,stepping around you he drops the cases on the bottom step before heading back to the truck after giving you one last hug and making his way back down the dirt path home.

Pulling the cases up the 3 steps you make your way inside the house, you instantly get the warm feeling of home, taking the stairs up to the second floor, walking down the hallway you pass by your parents room seeing the door slightly open you take a little peak inside.

Reaching your old bedroom you push the white oak wooden door open and step inside, it still looks the same as when you left years ago. Dark grey walls lined the room, A large king size bed off to the right, the walk in closet that you begged your father to build when you where a teenager throught a door on the left and your most favourite part of the room was the cushion bench lining underneath the window where you spend many of days curled up on the soft seat under your knitted blanket  reading many of your favorite romance novels.

Looking at the bed a moment you decided to take a nap considering you had been up early for your flight and knowing your sister as you do, you would not be getting to bed at a reasonable time tonight, her partys always ended up with people either in a food coma or passed out on any surface they could find after drinking to much alcohol.

[hollyhomburg]

Are you going to Stay?

(Fuckboy! Jungkook x Reader) (Idol au) (Soulmate Au)

Summary: It’s been a year since he last saw you, and every day he misses you more. It was only a matter of time until he turned up at your door asking for another chance.

Tags: angst with a happy ending, best friends to lovers, Themes of unhealthy coping mechanisms, sexual tension, emotional intimacy, physical intimacy, brief sexual scenes, Jungkook really loves the reader's thighs, Touch starved Jungkook, Mentions of hookups, talks of love languages, alcohol mention, Jungkook is intoxicated for most of this.

W/c: 6.4k

Song rec: Jk- Still with you 

A/N: there is a lot of time jumps in this where Jungkook is thinking through his memories while drunk, so if it sounds confusing that's the point. this is really near and dear to my heart- I wrote the bulk of this in one hour after listening to jungkook’s song still with you. it is directly inspired by that song. A lot of the dialogue in this story is based on things that have been said to me or I’ve said to others- so yeah- hope you like this self-indulgent story! 

“Of course I’ll never turn you away- but…do me a favor Jungkook, and don’t come back until you’ve decided what you want from me.”

One year. It’s been a little more than one year since he’s seen you and still- the last words you said to him haunt him as he walks through the rainy streets of Seoul. His fellow strangers on the sidewalk giving him a few weird looks for not having an umbrella.

He pulls up his facemask a little more, the bucket hat soaked through to his hair. The cold rain feels good against the back of his neck- the contact startling. Maybe Jungkook’s just too touch starved to make the right choices right now. Maybe its because he only wants someone to touch him if it’s you.

It didn’t always use to be that way. before he’d met you; he’d regularly needed a more sexual outlet for all his frustration, excess energy, and stress. It was healthy right? To need that? To want a connection without any strings in his line of work. 

Jungkook is a truthful person, and he stays that way by only ever lying to himself.  

When it rains in Seoul- it’s one of the few times that it ever feels quiet. The air pinning down the smoke and the smog, leaving space for the longing to clog up his lungs and spill out red on his tongue. Memories of you, the way you’d felt in his arms, your smile- your everything.  So many months without you and Jungkook can’t help but miss you a little more with every moment that passes.  

Some nights he gets restless like this and can’t help but walk and walk and hope his feet didn’t lead him to your door. Sure- at least half of the year that he hadn’t seen you had been because of the tour and the comeback schedule. But the last few months were his fault. He hadn’t had the courage to text you or pop up at your door. His stubbornness mixed with guilt, or something else entirely- a different sort of longing for someone you missed having, but had never really had in the first place.

Jungkook is great at lying to himself. That hasn’t changed in the last year.

Back then Jungkook had been too much of a coward to tell you how he felt. And so he was left out here- standing in the rain wallowing and wondering what could have been. 

You’d been best friends this time last year.

You’d been his one secret hideaway from his idol life, someone to drink with and sneak onto roofs and watch the stars with. A piece of the youth that he’d never had, but more than that too- something entirely new. How many times had you said, “it’s never too late to be a kid.” and never judged him for turning up at your door and needing a hug. 

Your entire relationship was some sort of reclamation for him, a better future found than the one he faced now. Going out sometimes, always worried about being spotted, never really having fun. Always looking for something better when he knew he wouldn’t find it. When he knew all he really wanted was to go back in time before he fucked it up with you.

You were his emergency contact; his someone to turn too on a bad day, or when he got too drunk at a club and couldn’t call management because he didn’t want to get in trouble. His drunken self that always wanted to see you- to drink in your laugh like a shot that made his knees weak. Your care, so freely given better than any party or hook up.

The countless times you’d taken him home to your apartment and given him a pair of soft pajamas and dealt with his drunken happy babbling about everything- always asking him about the places he’s seen and what one been his favorite. sometimes fooling him with shots of water just so that he’d get some liquid in him. his relentless pressuring for you to take a sip too- just to know the sweet truth- that your lips had touched the same spot his had. 

Jungkook is a fool when he’s in love. He tells himself he would have let your friendship go on forever if it meant never losing you. 

“What do you mean you don’t like New York!?” you’d asked, looking down at him with his head in your lap. Jungkook trying to resist turning over to nuzzle his head into your thighs- you’d always had such pretty thighs- the kind that look like they’d keep the memory of his fingers like memory foam if he squeezed hard enough. He wants to sleep on them. And he’s dangerously close to waking drunken poetic about them- marshmallows or clouds or just- fluffy.

He’s whiney when he answers but you don’t look bothered you only look endeared, helplessly swallowed by a wave of affection. “The buildings are too tall there and the city isn’t colorful enough- I love how Seoul just goes on and on and on, I could walk it forever if I wasn’t worried about being followed.”

He still loved how the neon lights looked in the puddles of the rain, the color bleeding everywhere with nowhere to go. The way he sees it now crossing a street in front of a makeup shop, the neon lights blinking red even though it’s closed.

But in every pink and red he can’t help but see your lips- your favorite shade of lipstick that you’d been wearing when you’d given him a key to your apartment. you were strange like him- there were some things you never liked wearing out of the house and that shade was one of them. No matter how many times he told you it looked nice, you'd always rub it off with a makeup wipe before you left. 

He remembers looking down at your house key, and the little keychain with a fluffy black ball attached at the end of it, heart-shaped. “I thought you didn’t like me popping around like a stray puppy?”

You laughed at that “you’re more like a stray pure-breed from the west minster dog show that I’ve kidnapped- but you should take it anyway- I know you like to get away sometimes- and it beats having to wait for me to come home right?”

He’s got the keychain and key in his pocket now- he rarely ever takes it out of his bag. And he fiddles with it in his pocket- the softness no less soothing then it was at the beginning. He rarely ever leaves the house without it- he tells himself it’s his good luck charm but he knows it’s because he wants to fools himself. Jungkook can’t be himself unless he has a piece of you. 

Maybe that's what soulmates are. People that you voluntarily give a piece of you, to keep it safe. 

He’s so lost in his memories that Jungkook almost tips his shoulder into someone passing by- narrowly avoiding getting thrown into the street as a result. Is it the several shots he’s downed that make him clumsy? Or the way that thoughts of you fill his head and leave no room for things as simple as the pull of gravity. Is it the memory of you that makes him shake- or the fact that he’s had too much caffeine and hasn’t slept in days?

Someone sitting in a cafe looks up and does a double-take, but he’s already moved on by the time they’ve lifted up their phone. The best they get is a picture of his back disappearing around the corner. He wonders if they’re going to type on some message board tonight “I think I saw an idol walking around in the rain, I wonder what could be on his mind?”

He remembers your words the day after your first kiss.“Do you ever wonder if we’re soulmates that met in a different lifetime? Or that we met a lifetime too soon?”

He’d tilted his head to the side, not understanding what you meant. You’d told him you were too drunk to remember the kiss the night before. But the way you’re looking at him now it almost seems like you do- but just didn’t want to tell him. How could you be worried you’d been too forward when he was the one who had initiated it? 

“Never mind Kookie- I’m so tired I’m getting philosophical, we should go home before it gets any later.”

Jungkook’s soul is certainly searching for something now, the world spins for a moment, and he loses track of where he is- the same way he’d lose track of you all those months ago. Those few miss begotten kisses like a wrong turn made on a highway- because he hadn’t been ready for something sensual, something soft and lingering like you’d been wanting.

The night that you’d gotten a little too close, your lips wet and hot and sticky with sweet drinks against each other. You crashing onto your bed with a giggle, so trashed. Jungkook helping you take your pants off because you could barely see straight, and it wasn’t sexual at all- when he paused to kiss the leading line of your knee. At least not the way that he’s used to. This is loving.

He’d kissed you up to your underwear. You squeal in surprise when he bits into your thigh a little bit. Teeth sinking into the skin he always wanted to touch and grab. Unable to stop his hands from grabbing fistfuls of your skin, so sweet and soft. You giggle when he does, his fingers hitting a sensitive spot and making your leg jerk out and almost kick him- too ticklish. “God I’ve been waiting so long to do this”

He’d uttered and whatever words you’d been about to say die in your throat. Suddenly a little less eager then you’ve been before. “Can we go slow?”

“Of course baby” Jungkook nods, and you don’t end up going any further that night, or at least any further than some heavy petting and making out. “God it’s almost 4am- we should sleep” both of your lips chapped red. and Jungkook feels like he can’t function without his lips pressed to your skin, nips at your neck, and your throat as you trail your hands up and down the back of his neck. All over. He feels and smells you all over and it’s driving him crazy.

Eventually, you wind down. Jungkook stretched out on top of you, his hips in-between your legs with only a few layers of thin fabric separating you. His ear pressed to your heart to listen to it. His body jelly finally sated to be so close to you. Your words are shy and scared in the darkness. His arousal burns low- and it’s not the most important thing- not in the slightest. 

“When I wake up, are you going to still be here Jungkook?” you had to ask- because he’s told you all of his tells before. You know his m.o. even if you’ve never seen it in person. you know that he never stays the night after hookups. had looked over one too many text messages of girls calling him an asshole, begging you to tell him how to respond. 

“I’ll stay,” he says, and at that moment- he swears he never felt a hit of the icky fear of being not enough. Curled up with you he’s not afraid of your relationship falling apart, you hating him, or you not wanting this. Every reason why he’d never stayed the night after hooking up before, invalid because he’s with you- someone he loves.  this wasn’t just another hookup; he loves you.

“Promise you won't?”

“I promise.”

And then in the morning, when he’d woken up with a pounding head and found you curled up next to him. Horror filling him but of course- you’d been drunk too. You have a few hickeys on your neck and he checks himself in the bathroom mirror afraid for a moment before he sees that luckily- his skin is unscathed. The fear- the worry, everything crashing down on him as he watches you asleep in your bed, relaxed and peaceful.

Jungkook isn’t a relationship person- he’s never been in one that didn’t end in his heart being broken. He can’t be- his love with you wasn’t supposed to start this way- not after another drunken night. Like so many, he’s had before in the past that have ended poorly. 

He doesn’t know where to go from here besides leaving. He’d even told you once “I don't think I could ever start a relationship after just- hooking up. like how do show someone the most vulnerable parts of you and then expect them to love you.” 

He leaves, starts the schedule for the day feeling terrible, the others asking why he looks so upset, why he’s snappy. After practice, he checks his phone. Finding only a single text from you; ‘you promised me Jungkook’ and nothing else. And he hates it- hates everything- because he wants to love you- he really does. But maybe a part of him doesn’t know how to love safely without ruining himself in the process.

Maybe that’s all that it was, love. The whole thing falling apart if you aren’t willing to love a person in the way that they want to be loved. Or maybe it’s less premeditated than that. He thinks about love languages, about how you’re supposed to give and receive love.

Though you’d already had the right kind of intimacy. You’d need a little more time then he’d been willing to give you. You’d told him that the next time you’d seen him. And you’d spent a few weeks pretending nothing was wrong when everything felt awkward suddenly. And by the time you were ready to adjust- Jungkook had convinced himself that you didn’t mean anything to him.

The time that you said you’d been going out to meet with one of your male coworkers and wouldn’t be able to hang out that night. Jealousy stinging Jungkook’s heart like a beestings- and for the first time in months he’d gone out looking for a hookup.

The hickeys you’d seen low on his hips the next day when he’d stretches up and you’d barked out “what the fuck is that” scalding and angry. Jungkook shrugging it off like it didn’t mean anything. The words he’d said haunt him in the hours of the night when he can’t sleep and only the hum of the air conditioner can hear the words he wishes he had said. If only to save you the disappointment of thinking he was a different person than he is.

“You went out with that guy last night- so why can’t I have a little fun?”

“He’s my coworker Jungkook you can’t honestly think- oh- I get it- you were jealous.”

Jungkook spluttering, rebuking your claim with a roll of his eyes, “there isn’t anything to get jealous over. We’re not trying to be in a relationship anymore.”

“That’s not what you said last-”

“Well I changed my mind” but he hadn’t not really- he would never change his mind about you he was only being stubborn.

“What do you mean you changed your mind Jungkook- you were the one who wanted this.”

“But I didn’t expect you’d be so clingy, and we can’t always be together and I just- I have needs and you can’t fill all of them” you flinch back, and Jungkook instantly wishes he hadn’t said the words. Because they were a lie- a lie meant to hurt. If anything he was the clingy one. He just- he couldn’t let it go.

“So you fucked up a perfectly good friendship because you were just lonely? I’m not one of your hookups- we’re supposed to be friends Kookie.”

His heart dropping, “you mean we’re not that anymore?”

“I never wanted anything with you if it meant jeopardizing that” and then him- unable to stop himself from asking you. “Are we still friends?”

“of course Mookie, I think I just need some time to think…you should go Jungkook.”

The first conversation you’d ever had about it is what he remembers too. “Do you think I’m a bad person?” your snort enough of an answer as you take a swig of the bottle of Soju. His hand splayed on the towel that you’d lied down so that the roof tar didn’t stain your clothes. “of course not.”

“Even when I’m…” this makes him uncomfortable even to talk about.

“The problem you started with? People who hook up and pretend that there aren’t any feelings involved but in reality, the denying of feelings tells you enough about how they feel. You wouldn’t have to stop yourself from getting closer to people if they didn’t matter to you- and if you weren’t afraid.”

Your shoulder had been so close- he’d been able to lean his head there. He remembers how good it had felt when you’d combed your fingers through his hair. (if he likes your thighs then you like his hair).  So much better than any hook up he might have had tonight. In truth- he’d been halfway to some girl's apartment when he’d called it off- and decided to go to your place instead.

Sure- you might not give him the exact kind of physical closeness that he was craving, but he loves the head pets, the way you’ll play with his hands. Like his hands are an extension of yourself, the motion so automatic like you barely realized you were doing it. 

He always left your place feeling more like himself. With everyone else, it felt like he had to fight to get himself understood, had to dilute or distill his words so that they’d get it, but somehow you were always on the same page. “I wouldn’t be too worried Kookie, you’ll grow out of it eventually.”

“You sure?” he’s so relaxed- he almost feels like he’s going to fall asleep against your shoulder. He shifts a little restless, turning so he can press his body against the line of your legs. Curling into your warmth.

“Yeah, I grew out of it too.” with anyone else- that sentence would feel patronizing. But with you- it was just comforting.  

How wrong he was- even now- you were all he could think about. Maybe that’s why somehow he ends up at your door. no- that’s not right-  The reason why he walks to your house right now, a year after the last time he’s seen you was because he’d released that song today- the one about you and missing you.

Of course, he couldn’t stop himself from checking in on you- still knew the username to all your old accounts. Enough to go and check if you’d commented on his song- and you had- a single broken heart emoji. Whether you meant for him to find it- he didn’t know. The fact that you still checked upon him the same way he checked up on you. That was enough for him to need to start drinking.

Your door is the same as it was back then, your slides sitting on the stoop- just inside the small alcove to keep them out of the rain. Your small house tucked into a side street. One of the last few in Seoul that wasn’t a complex- because you’d wanted a yard outback. You’re home, the light from the windows spilling like honey out into the wet street. You’d said that you’d never turn him away. So Jungkook steals himself and knocks, quiet. Ready for it to go unanswered because it’s so late.

You don’t look much different either when you open the door, hair shiny and dry like you’ve just blow-dried it already in your pajamas. “Jungkook!? What are you- your shoes are soaking wet! You’re soaking wet! Come inside before you catch a cold” it’s true- he must have stepped in a few puddles on his walk here. his chunky shoes slosh when he steps into your entryway.

In a moment all of your shock and apprehension melting away. And you’re fussing over him like its only been a few days since you’ve seen him and not a year. Your hands pushing his jacket off his shoulders. His mouth dry for a moment before the words tumble out again. 

“I miss you- I miss you so fucking much and it hurts. Can we talk? Please I-” your hands freeze where you’re popping his soaking jacket into your drier. Hands suddenly hovering on your counter.

Your house is just as bright and well-loved as Jungkook remembers it. Some days he lives more in those happy memories than he does in the present. The countless hours you’d spent on your couch, teaching Jungkook how to cook a little better in your kitchen. Even now- something sweet bakes in the oven, fresh bread or some other baked goods

Hours spent in your little nook in the corner taking personality quizzes on the Internet just to pass some times. The love languages quiz. “I think it's bullshit that they don’t consider food as a love language- because I love cooking for the people I love.” 

and Jungkook blushing and finishing his quiz in peace, finding out that his love language was physical affection too, tied with quality time. But that didn’t matter- the only thing he could think about was your love language. You love to cook for people you love, and he’s unable to stop listing all of the times that you’d cooked for him in his head. Nearly once a week at least.

Did that mean you loved him? You hover near that spot now. The first time that Jungkook had ever truly realized you were both falling in love.

Now that he’s not in the rain you can tell that he’s crying. His eyes bloodshot and red like he’s been doing it for hours. You reach out cupping his cold cheek with your warm hand and rubbing the moisture away. Is it a tear or just some rain? You can’t tell. And Jungkook’s whole body shivers at the contact, so sweet, he can’t help but teeter, almost falling into you as he tries to lean into it. 

Maybe he’s drunker than he thinks.

“I think you should shower first- you’re shaking Kookie- you need to warm up.” he nods quietly and lets you be his benevolent puppetmaster as you make him take off his pants soaking and stuck to his legs, leaving them with his shoes and jacket. Leading him to your bathroom. You tell him to leave his shirt and boxers outside so you can put them in the drier too.

You’d always been so good with this- ready to baby him and heal his woes whenever he’d come to you after a particularly bad day. Before he’d had you, he’d supplemented his usual bad habit with a hook up to sate his need to be self-destructive.  A month into your friendship he’d stopped because by then he’d only needed you. You’d patched him up when he’d been feeling hurt- without him ever having to hurt himself.

Compared to you, everyone else was just a fling, But they’d started out as first loves. Women that never gave him more than a few nights and left him broken-hearted when he got too attached too quickly. He’d been hurt a few too many times by the fact that they never stayed and spent the night. 

He’d convinced himself that was just how it went. Don’t get too attached, don’t get too personal and cuddle because no one wants to be that close to someone they barely know. He told himself to be satisfied with the closeness he got through sex even if he was vaguely aware that wasn’t what he really needed or wanted. 

And then one day he’d gotten up and realized that he was the one breaking their hearts- all because he didn’t want to get close to anyone anymore. Not in the way that meant being truly intimate. That was too much of a risk for his fragile heart.

True intimacy was the kind he’d had with you. You’d never needed to sleep together to cuddle him no- Jungkook just had to turn up at your door and you’d be ready to give him all of the physical contact he needs. Enough to stop feeling like he was about to jump out of his skin. 

That was what the love language quiz had told you what your love language way- physical affection, a love that Jungkook was always eager to receive.

The shower is warm and exactly what he needs. He walks out of it smelling like you; his heart hurting in such a keen way- everything in your bathroom familiar and new. The times you’d let him shower here, once after getting caught out in the rain with you (a literal downpour, eventually you’d gotten too soaked and just settled for being goofy, sloshing in puddles in the park, spinning around underneath a lit lamp singing a bad rendition of singing in the rain, spilling your bottle of soju with little regard for who might think it propper.)

A whole day he’d spent kneeling on this tiled floor after one bad night, holding back your hair when you were puking. Jungkook berating himself for his choices because He’d taken you to a bad club in Gangnam, and you were worried someone had tried to slip something into your drink- no other reason why you’d be puking like this. 

He’d apologized profusely, got you chocolate-covered strawberries as a thank you. Not knowing that you where allergic. “why the fuck did you eat them if this was going to happen” you were whiney, cheeks all puffy and red- lips a little swollen too. Gesturing for Jungkook to hand you the ice pack already, the itchiness getting to you.

“Cuz they looked really good and you were being sweet.” He slaps your hands away and holds the icepack to your cheek, moving it around every few seconds. Your eyes fluttering in relife. You’d spent the afternoon like that- Jungkook holding the icepack to your cheek watching a drama on your couch. it was the least he could do- after maybe inadvertently getting you drugged and giving you an allergic reaction. 

And still- next week you’d responded to his texts. He’d been ready for you to leave him after that, but no- you still called him your friend.  

While he takes a shower you put his clothes in the drier. Your heart humming because- he’s back. He’s actually come back. You never really expected him to stay away for so long- not more than a week at least. But then you’d heard the news of the tour and just assumed he couldn't. And you think through all the text messages you'd almost sent him asking for him to meet up for dinner or something but in the end. you’d been too worried that he would turn you down- that he really didn't care anymore. 

Your hands feel something in the pocket of his pants. you still - pulling it out not really believing it- but it’s your key. The key you’d given him hoping he would stay in your life. and seeing it- knowing he’s kept it with him all this time. you grip the edge of the counter, trying not to cry. 

When he gets out of your shower he finds an old set of his own pajamas there- probably left here at one point or another. He brings them up to his nose to inhale a deep breath, and they smell like you too. The simple joggers and black shirt- you must have worn them. Did you curl up in them on the nights that you missed him most? Did you even miss him? You’d never said it back at the door.

When Jungkook pads out into the living room, you’re sitting on the couch- head in your hands, a towel in yours, you jolt up when you see him. And your expression is unreadable as you gesture for him to sit in front of you. “I’m going to dry your hair” 

The clearly communicated intent makes Jungkook’s whole body tingle, his touch starved ness already making a reappearance- always wanting more and more. He sits, tipping his head forward so you have access to all of his hair, his eyes on the couch, and your crossed legs. They aren’t as plush as they once looked. In the past year, you’ve lost a little weight and he wonders if that’s because of him.

His whole body shaking as you bring the towel up and through his hair, drying it this way and that. Eventually leaning his cheek against your clothed thigh, before he jolts up. Catching himself with an arm out behind you. He looks up, and your breath hitches when you see his arms, the way they’ve grown over the past year.

He knows he’s put on muscle since the last time you’ve seen him and it makes the tiniest bit of pride well up in his chest to know he’s impressed you. It only lasts for a moment before you keep drying his hair looking down at your hands a sour feeling rising up in both of you. Like you’re both suddenly realizing how much you’ve changed in the last year. 

Your bodies might be strangers- but your souls aren’t. Even after all this time, not a single silence is awkward.

“Don’t want you to get a cold,” you say softly, and Jungkook only makes a small noise to let you know the message is received. He’s happy to be on the receiving end of your affection. After so long without any intimate contact, he needs it like he needs air. You continue in silence for a moment before Jungkook lists forward so hard that his head ends up pressed to your collarbone, his forehead warm against your skin. You don’t flinch back.

“Why are you being so kind to me? The last time I was here- I wasn’t- I never treated you well” his voice is broken and wavering. The darkness of the cloth concealing the fact that he’s crying again, but you can feel his tears against your skin anyway.

“I’ll always patch you up Kookie. And you did treat me well, maybe not the way I wanted to be treated- but you never treated me terribly.” That’s a little debatable, but Jungkook isn’t about to convince you not to forgive him for being an asshole.

“Will there ever be a way to go back?” it’s the one thing he’d been unable to stop himself from wondering- if there was a way to repair what you’d had. And he dreads the answer now almost more than not knowing. You bite your lip, folding your hands over your chest, leaving the towel hanging over Jungkook’s head like some kind of veil. Facing each other cross-legged on your old couch while the rain patters on outside.

“I never hated you Kookie- you’re still my best friend. Maybe we fight, and yeah it’s been a while. But at the end of the day, your soul still fits mine.”

He gulps audibly, hands reaching out to touch yours, you marvel for a second, eyes tracking over his new tattoos. He hadn’t had those the last time you’d seen them- you’d seen them on the Internet, of course, it was hard not to check up on him. 

“Do you remember what you said to me in that cafe that day?” his voice is low, as thick as the color that bleeds onto the wet asphalt outside. While in here you’re in a bubble cozy and safe. Out of time and out of place.

Your eyes are heavy-lidded, as he gets more brazen with his touches, fingers rubbing up and down your forearms. You make noise in agreement. “Soulmates that met too early.” your eyelashes flutter against your cheek- it is late- and you look as tired as Jungkook should feel where it not for the caffeine in his system- but the shower did a good job of calming him down.

His words feel thick as he swallows, “what if that lifetime is now?” your eyes shoot open. And you’re about to say something when Jungkook jumps in. “I miss you. I miss you so bad that I think it breaks my heart sometimes.”

“Jungkook” it's just his name, but the way it sounds on your mouth- Jungkook would follow that call anywhere. He slumps forward, leaning his head against your shoulder, and you smell so good. He can’t help but turn his head to nuzzle into your neck; you don’t stop him- you don’t even flinch in fact. 

You relax more- like you were waiting for him to lean into you. Hands coming up to encircle his shoulders and pull him in for a hug. “You missed me- but what do you want me to do?”

“Say you miss me too- say it's not too late. Say we have a chance.” your hands are gentle as they come up to run through his still-damp hair, “say it’s another lifetime and we can be soulmates again.”

“Are you going to stay?” you ask instead. You realize your miss-step, Jungkook sits up and you wish he didn’t so he wouldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. “stay the night I mean-” you swallow, “do you want to sleep here?”

“Yes” he flicks his hair out of his face, “if that’s okay?” both of you pretend that you mean only tonight. Even though you know- you both know what you meant.

His hair is drying curler and longer now. “You’re drunk Kookie- you should sleep. We can talk properly in the morning.”

Jungkook knows you’re probably just saying that because you want a little more time- but that’s okay. In the past year, he’s learned to be patient. And if you need the night to think it over- if you need the whole week or month. He’ll give it. “Okay,” he says, tilting his face up to look at you smiling. 

“I’m not making any promises Jungkook- we have a lot to work through to get back to how we were”

“I know,” he says, but still can’t stop smiling, letting out a watery little giggle, and damn his cute doe eyes and his easy smile- because you can’t help but think he’s the cutest thing. This boy that looks hard on the outside but isn’t anything more than the squishiest romantic when you get to know him, who turned up at your door and told you everything you’d been hoping for the second he’d walked out your door.

“I can wait as long as you need to wait, I’ll be okay as long as we just talk again. I missed you so so much” he’s definitely drunk; maybe it just took a little while for the shots to hit him.

You get him a blanket and a pillow and he sleeps on the couch and he might let his lips brush along the outside of your when you reach down to run your fingers through his hair again but you don’t pull away. A look on your face like it pains you to leave him on the couch. But those little acts of love were never out of place back when you used to talk every day. And you can’t bring it to yourself to scold him for such a blatant act of intimacy when it makes your heart flutter.

There had been a few times near the end. when Jungkook had let himself in with your key and crawled into bed with you. And you’d always woken up before him, had breakfast and something planned for the day- someplace you wanted to explore and Jungkook ready to company you anywhere and everywhere. 

He waits and watches the light underneath your door until it winks out and you go to sleep too. And he might wake in the middle of the night thinking bout crawling into bed with you but he knows enough to give you your space. His heart brimming with the possibility of more- more everything.

It’s worth it in the morning. Jungkook dreams about the love languages. Your words again ‘preparing food should be considered a love language.’ when he wakes in the morning the rain has stopped. Your porch doors open to your small back yard to let in the city sounds. The mist clearing over the rooftops, the smell of rain on the wet earth musky and sweet, quiet, and relaxing.

He smells eggs and French Toast, hears your soft humming in the kitchen. It’s Your love language to cook for those you love. And he knows somehow that you still love him when he hears the oil frying in the pan, the smell of cinnamon and sugar there too. everything sweet and nothing hurting.  

A single tear drifts down his cheek. And he’s unable to stop smiling, even if he is half-asleep, unable to open his eyes even. He falls back asleep and wakes to the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.  

There will be other times, when Jungkook can hop up from your bed and join you in the morning, back hugging you and peppering little kisses along your shoulder. Hands slipping under the edge of your shirt to squeeze at the ticklish spot on your hips. Or the small kisses he’ll press to your sleeping cheek when he has to leave early in the morning. Or the mornings when he’ll wake to you still in his arms kissing down his chest. 

Countless mornings, days into the future when things will be easier. And even if they're not easy, Jungkook knows trying with you is worth it. Now that he’s lived without you- he will do anything to stay by your side. For Now, he’s happy to sleep off his hangover dimly aware of the sound of you moving around your house. 

For a second, it almost feels like you’ve bent down, the warmth spilling across his face, the faint brush of your lips on his cheek. He tells himself it’s just a dream.  

Jungkook is good at lying to himself. 

Kofi

(if you want to find out your love language; here is a simple quiz to find out!) 

[jazzistolkienfanfics]

Breathing - Aragorn x reader (modern!AU)

hi! could you do prompt #53 with a female reader and aragorn? thank you!

@elvish-sky​ oh joy, another sad aragorn fic (jk jk). i wanted to write this one as a modern!AU because of some research i was doing before school ended for science and ... i just thought of the concept and liked it, okay hush

53. “You said you were okay!”

Type: Imagine Pairing: Aragorn x reader (modern!AU) Summary: Y/N hasn’t been entirely honest with her boyfriend, Aragorn. Warnings: angst, sadness, death, Word Count: 1,704 words

Y/N laughed loudly as the black Newfoundland puppy chased its fluffy tail, the dark fur sticking up as though it had been struck by lightning. 

Aragorn grinned at her, taking yet another long moment to watch her - to savour everything about his beautiful girlfriend. Just like every time she giggled, he wanted the seconds to last forever. He wanted every day he got to be with Y/N to last forever, because one day, they would be unable to make new memories. 

One day sooner than he would like. 

He tugged the sleeves of his RSPCA volunteer jacket down as he sat by her side, whistling for the dog to come and sit by his side. It obliged, just as all the animals in the shelter, or anywhere, always did.

Animal whisperer, Y/N would tease him. Like Doctor Dolittle!

Aragorn looked to her again, the smile still on Y/N’s face. Flushed s/c cheeks. Hooded e/c eyes with heavy bags under them, yet she still looked beauty. H/l messy h/c hair, kept out of her face by a f/c ribbon.

Then, the things people tended to stare at. The bag by her side, much like the wheeled kind some people used to shop. The nose cannula hooked behind her ears, a long tube carrying oxygen from the bag. A surgery scar protruding from her f/c shirt’s neckline. 

Those things didn’t bother him. He loved her. 

“Are you okay?”

Aragorn blinked at Y/N’s question. Normally he was the one asking her that question, or supposed to be. “I-I’m perfect.”

She smiled again. “That’s good.”

He stood, pulling her to her feet as well. “Come on. My shift’s up.”

Y/N jokingly pouted. “But the puppies!”

This time, it was Aragorn who laughed. “We’ll come back next week, I promise.”

“Next week,” she echoed, a sadness in her voice that her boyfriend didn’t detect.

---

Y/N coughed, making a face as the last of her pills went down her throat. She took dozens every day - it was part of her necessary, pre-determined hospital routine. 

Her nurse, Legolas, (A/N - stan male nurses) passed her some water, which she gladly swallowed, hacking again. 

“Good job,” he grinned. “Everything’s doing okay. Lung function is at 54 percent, a little lower than last week, but it will get higher again.”

She’d definitely expected that, though her heart still sunk.

“I’ll let your boyfriend in now.” Legolas laughed at the annoyed look on his charge’s face. The sound faded as he took on a more serious tone. “But, you remember that it could get even worse anytime, especially-”

“I know,” Y/N interrupted, her voice scratched and broken. “I know.”

“Be careful,” the nurse reminded her again, as he left the room, Aragorn passing through the door before it could even swing shut. 

“Going alright?”

Y/N grimaced. “As well as can be expected. I hate my lungs.”

He took her hand, squeezing it tightly, like he would never, could never, let go. “I know you’re strong, Y/N/N. You can’t let CF beat you.”

Ah, yes. There it was - the casual reminder Y/N couldn’t go a day without hearing. Stressing how she was holding her life in an hourglass, which was rapidly running out of time.

Cystic Fibrosis. An often terminal lung condition, meaning Y/N’s lungs functioned at low percentages, causing difficulty in her breathing and weakened immune system. She was often lucky to spend more than a month out of the hospital, thought that hadn’t been the case recently.

She’d been continually relapsing, her lung function decreasing with every checkup. 

To put it simply, it sucked. Royally. 

“Here,” Aragorn offered her her nose cannula. “Hook up, and I’ll distract you.”

Y/N slipped it on, taking his hand and dragging her portable oxygen in The Granny Shopping Bag™️ with the other. smiling.

Well, at least, her mask was smiling. Inside, she didn’t know if she had the energy or will to anymore.

---

Y/N knew it was a risk, and she was exactly aware of the million and one ways this could go wrong. 

But she didn’t care. She was going to live whilst she still could. She was done with giving up her life, letting down her boyfriend, because of some stupid mucus. 

Besides, he didn’t know. He didn’t know it all, and she wasn’t going to stop them from being unable to make happy memories together by burdening him with more bad news. Being the protective guy he was, Aragorn probably wouldn’t even let her leave the hospital if her found out.

“Ready?” said-boyfriend-in-question asked.

“Hell yeah,” Y/N grinned, straightening the edges of her denim jacket. 

They stood at the archway entrance to the Rivendell National Park - a beautiful wonderland of pale trees and swirling leaves, in the deep of autumn.

Technically, Y/N wasn’t meant to engage in ‘prolonged physical activity’. But technically, she wasn’t even meant to be alive right now.

No one, least of all her, knew how much time she had left. Y/N wasn’t one to waste it. 

Together, she and Aragorn stepped through the archway, and explored the ‘whole new realm’.

---

After ten minutes, her lungs were burning, but she didn’t say anything.

Aragorn was looking so happy - a goofy smily affixed upon his face, his dark eyes lighting up as he swished his head from side to side to admire everything with childish wonder. 

The National Park was beautiful, but the air was thin, and Y/N was struggling not to audibly struggle. She hated being dependent on people, and she would. Not. Worry. Him.

Something felt different this time - her breathing was quickening even though she was walking extraordinarily slowly, and she was in more pain than she should’ve been

Y/N signalled for Aragorn to stop, doubling over and coughing until her throat was raw. She couldn’t breathe whilst the mucus was crawling up her airways, and she’d rather clear it than suffer.

“Get it out, Y/N,” Aragorn encouraged her as she straightened, worry sketched all over his face. 

Her coughing was done, and she went to take a nice big inhale, but ....

She.

Still.

Couldn’t.

Breathe.

Breathing should’ve been something natural, easy, if she had been just a normal young woman with her normal boyfriend. 

She wished that lying didn’t come to her easier than breathing.

Y/N collapsed, choking, almost about to pass out as Aragorn immediately fell to her side, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling an emergency number.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, his breaths coming shortly as well as he scooped her up into his arms. “Oh, God. Y-You’re going to be okay, Y/N.”

Funny how good they’d both become at lying.

With that thought, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, without the energy to keep themselves open.

“Y/N!”

---

Aragorn sat in the waiting room with a feeling like acid being poured down his throat and then regurgitated. 

She shouldn’t have collapsed like that - it was highly medically improbable given what he knew about Y/N and her Cystic Fibrosis. Unless ... there was something he didn’t know.

He shook his head as soon as that thought came to him. He trusted Y/N. She trusted him. He had to have faith in her.

The sound of footsteps encouraged him to look sideways, where he saw Y/N’s nurse, Legolas, with four cups of coffee in his arms.

“Expecting someone else?” Aragorn laughed as he was handed one of the cups.

“Oh, no,” Legolas replied, with an unbelievably straight face. “I intend to drink all the coffee.”

“How is Y/N?” 

The nurse winced. “I will be honest with you - she isn’t going so well right now. The fact that she was still walking with you ... that’s pretty amazing given her lung function and diagnosis.”

“What do you mean?” Aragorn furrowed his eyebrows. “She-she’s fine, isn’t she?”

Legolas stared. “Y/N didn’t tell you, did she? Oh, that stubborn little-”

“Tell me what?”

He averted Aragorn’s eyes. “Tell you that she was diagnosed with Burkholderia Cepacia and she was given another six months to live with her current lung function.”

“What?” All the air rushed out of his lungs, and suddenly, he knew how Y/N felt when it was hard for her to breathe. “H-How long has it been?”

Again, the blond looked awkwardly to the floor.

“How long?!” It was a shout this time, and Aragorn could feel himself on the brink of tears. His beautiful girlfriend, lost to the void ... he could not cope with it.

“Seven months.”

He fell back in his chair, coffee discarded, his shaking hands covering his face as his cheeks dripped with tears. This couldn’t be happening. This could not be happening.

A doctor rushed out from the ER, making a beeline for Legolas. Her nametag read ‘Tauriel’, her long red hair flying behind her as she ran towards them.

Her face was sober.

“He-he should come. Now.” She motioned towards Aragorn who stood immediately.

“Is Y/N alright?”

Dr. Tauriel did not answer his question, just motioning for him to follow her. 

---

Y/N wasn’t moving. For such a joyful young woman, she was lying unbelievably still. 

There was a crowd of doctors around her, but they all moved back at the sight of Aragorn.

“I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t know who said it ... all he could think about was how much paler Y/N looked than her normal s/c. 

“She-she’s just a-asleep, r-right?” Aragorn stuttered on the words as more tears fell down his face. “Y/N’s o-okay?”

Dr. Tauriel shook her head. “I’m so sorry. We-we couldn’t do anything.”

“You said you were okay!” Aragorn cried, talking to Y/N even though she couldn’t hear him - would never hear him again. Jut like he would never hear her. “You told me you were okay ...”

“Get him out of here,” someone said quietly, and Aragorn was pulled to the door.

He threw one final look over his shoulder. 

Y/N’s hair was spread out over the pillow. Her hands had been folded over her chest. She still had her nose cannula in, but that had never made her less beautiful.

Even in death, she still looked like an angel.

She was still the most beautiful person Aragorn had ever known.

A/N - guys this is my new favourite fic so please spread it! @elvish-sky​ thank you so much for this request, and everyone, thank you for reading!

[eirenical]

You "I have no idea if anyone's awake" Me "it's two in the afternoon" :) anyway please talk to me about Courferre

HA.  You know what?  I considered that after I posted it, but I was too tired to change it.  Ah, time zones...  XD

SO!  My brutally honest opinion about Courferre.  I know they don’t have much canonically to go off of but (when has that ever stopped shipping? ;D) I LOVE THEM.  I love them SO MUCH.  They’re like... the ultimate friends-to-lovers trope?  And they’re so soft and warm and love each other So. Much.

...but here’s the brutal part of the brutally honest opinion.  I confess that I’m not enjoying the content produced for them as much anymore.  Maybe it’s because my preferences have shifted or because many of my favorite Courferre shippers have moved on to other things or because I’m coming from a very different personal context than a lot of the people who are writing for them now.  Or maybe it’s because I’m so fucking bitterthat they’ve become the ultimate taken-for-granted background ship and they’re tagged in EVERY. FUCKING. LES MIS. FIC. even when it has literally nothing to do with them as a primary ship, so every time I see them tagged in a fic I just assume it’s not about them, wince, and move on.  I don’t know.  So, while I still enjoy reading all the old stories for them, and I still write for them occasionally myself, I don’t read or write anywhere near as much of them as I used to.  And that still makes me sad.  :(

[kuwurapikaaa]

Better In Reality // Kurapika x Reader

Title: Better In Reality Pairing: Kurapika x Reader Genre: Smut Prompt: Kurapika comes home to find the Reader asleep in bed and moaning their name, having a very good dream. How does Kurapika react? Note: I am doing a double upload on tumblr right now. Although my tumblr on my PC is not working at all. It has been a while since my last writing in tumblr since personal things came up to my life... and that is kinda making my financial situation... not the most desirable... if you want, I do make commissions

Kurapika’s eyes were drooping down as he felt sleepy. He came from another bodyguard job, tired as always. He opened the door to your apartment. He knows that you are already asleep and doesn’t want to wake you up, so he has an extra key and walks with caution every night. 

He turned the light switch on and removed his suit jacket and hung it on the rack. He also removed his dress shoes. You didn't prepare dinner for him because he probably already ate something, which you were right. He ate at his employer’s place.

Then, he decided to open the door to your shared bedroom and saw you there, moaning and being such a writhing mess for your man. “K-Kurapika-- Sorry daddy…” His eyes widened as soon as he heard those words come from your mouth. He thought that you were asleep, but he was shocked to see that you weren’t sound asleep.

You’re into… that? - Kurapika was shocked hearing the word ‘daddy’ come from your mouth. You were dreaming, probably having sex with him. You never striked the type to be like that. You were always assertive and independent. Not a submissive girl.

Suddenly, you woke up as you felt Kurapika’s presence. His eyes bloodshot and your breathing was heavy. You were shocked to see Kurapika already arrived. Then, you found yourself closing your thighs as you felt a wet splotch and something that tickled you. Biting your lip, you moved around the other side, trying to avoid his stares. Your face is probably as red as a tomato as you can feel blood rushing on your cheeks.

Kurapika went to you, still wearing his clothes. His hands were on both of your sides. His eyes bloodshot at you, clouded with lust. You were holding your blanket tightly, trying to hide your wet splotch, since you were only wearing his shirt and your panties. “You’re into that?” He interrogated you.

You dropped the blankets, there is no point to it anymore. His lips basking on yours as he held your chin. You missed times like this, when you can feel his soft, pillowy lips against yours. As you opened your mouth ever-so-slightly he slid his tongue in. His hands went on your waist, going to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up, revealing your bare mounds.

He removed his lips from yours and traveled down to your perky nipples, exposed to the air. He puts his mouth on your nipple, sucking it. His hands were on your neglected one.  “D-Daddy?!” You yelped as you felt shivers down your spine. That was what you called him in your dream. - Daddy.

When you say the word ‘daddy’ in front of Kurapika, it just rolls naturally. - It’s like nature is calling you to call him daddy. You were shocked as you saw the smirk in his face. He never does that, yet here he is. It felt ticklish as he continued sucking, this time, changing the position. 

Your slick nipple is being fondled by his hands and the other one that was neglected was given attention. You bit your lip, trying to not moan like that again. “Don’t be shy.” He growled at you, his tongue going on your slick folds.

You gasped as you felt his vice grip on your thighs. Your brows raised and eyes wide open. Your mouth was releasing small yelps as his wet muscle licked against your folds. You can't help it but put your hands on his soft blond hair. - Kurapika's hair smells so good, it's also very fluffy. You were running your hands against his scalp, holding on to his hair as you have your silent cries, reaching your orgasm.

In just a blink of an eye, his skillful hands suddenly put both of your wrists at the top of your head. It was probably because he felt your hands tugging on his blond hair. "Bad girl." He said with a deeper voice. Kurapika has never shown this side of him.

Sex with him was good, yes, but it was more about making love, sealing a connection. He was rough, if you kindly ask, but he will always be a gentle partner. But tonight is another talk.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, his hands still wrapped your wrists together. You were staring at him in such a frozen state. As soon as his eyes opened, it turned into a deep scarlet. You froze as you saw, in a blink of an eye, your hands were bound by the cold chains.

With his rather callous hands, he traced all over your hip, his eyes still the scarlet color. You felt shivers down your spine as his warm hands went on your hip, his wet, hot muscle went on your velvety slit, licking you. "D-Daddy… please…" As you moaned those words, you clenched your teeth.

He continued licking around your entrance, with sucking motions. Gosh! He was so good at this! Of course he's better at fingering you with his talented fingers, but his oral skills is also something to note. All you could see was white as you closed your eyes. He was sending you to heaven.

Before you can even signal him that you're near your climax, he removed his mouth from your entrance, which made you feel empty and a bit unsatisfied. "Make daddy feel good… you can do that, right?" He asked you, his gentleness remained. Your eyes widened as you saw his erection right in front of you.

Even if your hands were bound against the cold steel, you tried to put your mouth on his length. He held your head, putting his cock in your greedy mouth. He puts himself against the headboard with a relieved expression. You started to slowly enter your mouth against his cock in slow, yet firm motions. You closed your eyes, trying to get his cock inside your warm mouth.

He was running his hands around the strands of your (H/C) hair while having quiet growls. “So good…” He muttered under his breath, his eyes changed its color. The chains were gone from your hands. You removed your mouth from his long member and looked into his eyes.

You were catching your breath, fluttering your eyes closed. “Are you tired?” He asked you, his voice turning concerned. You shook your head no and stood up from him. He held your legs, hooking them on his hips. He ran his fingers against your thighs, resulting in shivers running down your spine.

Then, he began entering into your wet slit. You held onto his back, fluttering your eyes closed. Your nails digging into him, marking it with half moons. “Kurapika…” You moaned against his ears as he began the rocking motion of his hips. Thrusting back and forth into you. He was truly sending you to heaven. You became such a moaning mess when it’s with him.

“So good… (Y/N)...” Kurapika silently growled against your ears. His blond hair became kinda messy.

In no time, you can already feel his cock reaching your spot. “Right there…” You moaned against Kurapika’s ears, his growls are getting louder and louder. You can feel it right there that you’re near your orgasm. He continued bucking his hips against you, this time, the pace is more erratic. Your nails drove deeper into him, he sent you to heaven for the second time.

“A-Ah!” You knitted your eyebrows together as you can feel your climax. Just barely a minute later, you felt white ropes paint your insides white. He withdrew his cock from your tight, velvety slit. Both of your bodies are sweaty from the deed that happened just a few seconds ago.

“Is your dream better in reality?” He asked you, looking into your eyes. Laid in the mattress with you, bodies sweaty.

[spinbitchzu]

citrus kisses

Darling, you don’t need to say what you mean, ‘cause your kisses taste like tangerines. Aka: cole’s love language is tart and sweet and reminds Kai of things he thought he’d lost. 

hey uhhh so. I don’t write ninjago fic often but apparently when i do, it’s about the inherent romanticism of peeling an orange and also action-oriented love languages. anyway you know the drill. lavashipping, a bit over 2k words. unbeta’d bc we die like men. 

The oranges that grew in Ignacia grew in huge groves.

It’s one of Kai’s only memories with his whole family: walking between his parents in the long aisles stretching between the lines of trees, Nya’s tiny, chubby hand clasped carefully in his own as she toddled along beside him. The smell of oranges was everywhere, and that day they picked enough to last them for weeks and weeks. 

He can still recall his dad’s hands braced around his ribs as he hoisted Kai up to pick a Valencia orange bigger than his head from a high branch, eyes squinting against the bright sun on his face. He’d felt such pride that day, as he carried his treasure around for all to see.

He remembers summers of frothy fresh-squeezed orange juice in the morning, afternoons of fragrant orange cake, and evenings of carefully-partitioned segments that exploded juice on his tongue. His mom used to make ambrosia for Saturday morning breakfast, the orange slices piled high with coconut shavings and thick, fluffy whipped cream. She’d scold him when he peeled the oranges himself; his forceful little thumbs always dug too far into the flesh and sent the juice squirting everywhere. Instead, she clucked her tongue and peeled it for him with easy, deft movements while he sucked the stickiness off his fingers.

Those days—patchworks of hot nights and sunshine through the kitchen windows and the smell of citrus on his mother as she leaned in to kiss him goodnight—they’re days Kai can hardly remember the older he gets. 

After his parents disappeared, no one took Kai and Nya to the Valencia groves; no one whipped the cream for ambrosia; no one lifted him to the highest branches for the best oranges. He simply had to wait until he was tall enough to reach them himself.

He doesn’t think about those memories very often, and Nya was so young, he doubts she remembers it at all. It’s not like he ever gets a summer off to return home either, so instead he lets the memory fade until it’s almost entirely forgotten. He locks it in the part of his brain that he’s sectioned off because it’s too painful to keep clinging to when things were that good. It’s okay. 

The past tastes like oranges and coconut cream, and Kai has left it behind.

...

Kai forgets why they’re making a stop over Ignacia, but it just so happens that the nearest rural area place for them to moor is over the Valencia groves he had nearly forgotten about. 

He stands at the front of the ship, leaning over the railing with his chin propped up on his pillowed arms to study the trees extending in every direction, the dark leaves bejewelled with not-quite-ripe January oranges. The sun overhead is more of a pale, cold disk, and Nya is somewhere below-deck, but it makes him melancholy anyway.

Footsteps approach from behind him—heavy but soft: Cole. He leans over the railing beside Kai, bracing his forearms against the wood as he surveys the landscape. “Hey. Whatcha doin’ out here, stranger?”

“Just lookin’,” he murmurs back. He hums to himself. “Did you know I used to come to this grove with my family as a kid?”

“I didn’t even know you liked oranges,” Cole replies, giving him a sideways glance. He smiles when Kai glances back, dark eyes crinkling. “Do you want to go down now? I’m sure we could grab a few and no one would miss ‘em.”

“Nah, that’s alright,” Kai says with half a grin. “They’re not ripe. And I don’t like oranges that much anyway. Too hard to peel. They just made me think about—things I hadn’t let myself think about for a while.”

“What kind of things?” Cole asks, nudging him with an elbow.

The touch grounds him and he’s grateful for it. He shrugs in a way that’s neither here nor there. “Just things. Home, I guess. My life? Before all the...ninja stuff.”

“Is that a good thing?” Cole tilts his head. In this light, his eyes turn from obsidian to sunlight through whiskey as he waits for an answer.

Kai makes a contemplative noise. “I don’t know. Hurts less than I expected, after everything. It’s bittersweet.” He sighs then, shoulders falling with the motion. “It really is making me miss oranges, though. I don’t know why I lied before—I really do like them.”

He looks back at the groves below and misses the look Cole gives him—measured and curious.

“What about you, do you like oranges?”

“Some. The sweet ones.”

“You’d like these ones, then,” Kai tells him, cheeks rising as he smiles. “The oranges from Ignacia are the biggest, sweetest ones around. They’re good just by themselves, but my mom made a mean ambrosia with them.”

“I bet Zane could replicate the recipe if you told him what it was,” Cole replies.

Kai just shrugs. “Maybe so. He’s sharp like that.”

They fall silent. Kai can physically feel Cole worrying about him and his rare bout of melancholy, so he squares his shoulders and musters up a grin. “Hey, Cole, you—,”

“You don’t have to,” is what Cole interrupts him with, paired with a weighted look that settles around him like a blanket. “I don’t mind the quiet. You’re allowed to, Kai.”

All the feigned bravado drains out of him. Kai stares at him for a second and wonders when Cole got so good at gauging his moods. There’s so many words unspoken inbetween what he says and that earnest, draping look in his eyes and Kai kind of aches with it.

“Okay,” he says instead, shoulders slowly falling. His chin dips to rest on his crossed forearms again and he leans into it when Cole slips as arm around him. “Okay.”

The nippy January wind dances around them, stirring their hair and whipping at their gis, but Kai tips his head against Cole’s shoulder and feels warm down to his toes.

...

“Holy crap, what the hell did you do?” Kai can’t help asking a week later, as Lloyd and Zane walk into the kitchen carrying groceries.

“There was a sale on tangerines at the grocery store,” Zane answers primly, setting his paper bag on the counter. “I thought it prudent to take advantage of it.”

“We have like a hundred pounds of these things,” Lloyd adds, setting his own bag down. “We’re going to be eating tangerines until we get old and grey.”

“Zane, man, you know I love a sale as much as the next guy, but this is a little overboard,” Cole says as he comes in, two more bags of tangerines hoisted on his shoulders. Kai does not stare, thank you very much, as much as he’s been finding it kind of hard to avoid when it comes to Cole and lifting things recently.

“Proper intake of vitamin C is important in preventing scurvy,” Zane replies, though he’s blinking the way he does when he’s getting embarrassed. “It’s a common illness in sailors.”

“Does that still apply  if the ship can fly?” Lloyd wonders.

“Or if we’re in the twenty-first century?” Kai adds wryly, eyebrows high.

“I’m sure we’ll find some way to finish them all,” Cole pipes up. “Don’t worry about it, Zane.”

“I was not.” Zane turns away to put away the rest of the groceries while Kai and Cole exchange an amused look. As he bustles back and forth, Kai grabs a tangerine from the bag behind him and turns it over in his hands, studying the way the light catches on the dimpled rind.

“Hey,” Kai says quietly, leaning across the kitchen counter. “Did you do this?”

Cole just shrugs with a crooked grin. “I didn’t do anything. You know Zane and sales. Can’t resist ‘em.”

“You did,” Kai deduces, eyeing his teammate’s reddening ears. He feels his expression soften. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe I wanted to,” Cole says in response. He reaches over Kai, coming very, very close, until their noses are close enough to brush. His eyes are very dark and very close and Kai would very much like to kiss him right now.

“Um, uh,” Kai says, very eloquently.

“Not in the kitchen, please,” Zane calls from the pantry, because he hasn’t a romantic bone in his body (or any bones, to be fair to him).

Cole just grins and pulls back, displaying the tangerine he’d grabbed from behind Kai with a flourish. “I’m heading to the training deck. See you around, Hot Stuff.”

“R-right,” he mumbles (like an idiot), fighting the heat settled in his cheeks. He watches Cole go and feels distinctly like an opportunity has sailed over his head.

...

Cole smells like oranges these days.

Kai only notices because that isn’t his normal smell, which is much more organic soaps and something earthy and fresh. It’s a smell that clings to the hoodies Kai keeps pilfering from his closet—comforting in its familiarity. 

The abrupt invasion of tangy citrus makes him do a double take the first time he smells it. And then he reaches into the pocket of the hoodie and finds a tangerine. It’s store bought, with a little sticker on the side, and it’s not exactly a strange sight for any reason, but it sort of confounds him.

“Hey,” he says, walking into the kitchen, the object of confusion held gingerly in his hand. “Is this a tangerine?”

Cole looks up from where he’s making a sandwich and raises an eyebrow. “Is that my hoodie?”

“I asked first,” Kai replies quickly, before he has time to pink up.

“I mean, yeah, five points for powers of deduction,” Cole says cheekily. “Congratulations, it’s a tangerine. We gotta finish them somehow, don’t we?”

“I—yeah,” Kai says absently. Cole holds out a hand for it and he tosses it over wordlessly, before he even thinks too much about it.

“You said they’re hard to peel, right?” Cole asks, digging his nails into the rind. He peels it in the shape of a flower and then splits the orange in half with his thumbs to hold out to Kai. “Here.”

Kai looks down at the segment being offered to him in an open palm and then back at Cole with his earnest, crinkly-eyed smile, and feels something stutter fatally in his chest.

“Thanks,” he manages to say, as his heart cracks open to let sunshine stream all in, filling his ribcage with warmth.

He bites into the fruit and feels his mouth fill with juice and thinks about how his mother used to peel oranges when he was too clumsy to and then about how Cole leaves tangerines in the pockets of the hoodies he knows Kai will steal and peels them for him in the shape of a flower, even though it turns his nails all yellow. He thinks of it so hard he forgets to make a face that doesn’t show about seven years of adoration on it and when he looks back at Cole, he’s already looking back with realization blazing across his expression.

“Kai?” he asks, voice wavering as his throat bobs with his nervous gulp.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and then grabs Cole by the collar of his shirt and kisses him, soft and open-mouthed, across the kitchen island. He’s so filled up with sweet oranges and sunlight and the heat of Cole’s skin that he forgets to even be afraid of this, as much as it’s frightened him in his fantasies. He stops being afraid of it altogether when Cole sighs into his mouth and cards a hand through his hair.

When they finally draw back, Cole’s pupils are blown huge and dark and he’s looking distinctly Kissed with a capital K. Kai would very much like to continue that endeavor.

“You taste like oranges,” Cole chuckles as he tugs Kai around the island to pull him closer.

You taste like home, he wants to say, but then Cole leans over him to cup his jaw and kiss him breathless, and Kai decides to let it go unspoken. There are more important things to attend to.

…

In the early summer, Cole and Kai negotiate with the others for a three-day vacation in early June. They drive in a rented car to the Valencia grove outside Ignacia and pick enough oranges to last the ship for weeks. Cole boosts him on his shoulders to help him reach the huge oranges at the tree tops and they laugh the whole time, chasing each other through the orchard and trading citrus kisses. Kai wonders if it’s possible to burst with happiness.

“I’m sick of eating oranges,” Lloyd complains when they come home bearing the (literal) fruits of their labor, newly sun-tanned and smiling.  

“Really?” Kai tilts his head, considering. “Seems to me like I can never get enough of ‘em.”

“Was that some sort of romantic metaphor?” Lloyd asks with a wrinkled nose. “Gross.”

Cole laughs from where he’s watching and sidles up from behind to rest his big hands on Kai’s hips. 

“Yeah,” Kai says affectionately. “Gross.”

“Not in the kitchen,” Zane calls from the next room, but Kai just leans back against Cole and closes his eyes to drink in the moment.

It’s worth it, he decides. All the fighting. All the losing. All the danger. It’s worth it to eat oranges in the kitchen with people he loves.

“What are you thinking about?” Cole teases, his voice rumbling low in his chest against Kai’s back.

“Nothing,” he says with a smile, opening his eyes. “I just love oranges.”