#sorry I’m so late replying I have had no free time there past couple weeks

[kjack89]

E/R 38 pls

38. "Jet Lag" by Simple Plan and Natasha Bedingfield.

E/R, modern AU, established relationship.

Just as he had done for the past few mornings, as soon as his phone alarm went off, Enjolras rolled over to grab his phone, silence the alarm, and immediately FaceTime Grantaire. Unlike the past few mornings, however, his call went unanswered, and Enjolras frowned. He sent a quick text. You up?

No flashing dots appeared indicating Grantaire was replying, and Enjolras sighed, scrubbing a hand across his face. He was just about to toss his phone aside and get up to shower when it rang and Enjolras let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. “Hey,” he said, as Grantaire’s face swam into view on the screen. “Were you asleep?”

“Barely,” Grantaire said. “But, uh, I actually had my phone charging in the other room and lost track of the time.”

Even though he had no reason to think so, Enjolras couldn’t help but feel like that was a lie, and he frowned slightly. “Everything ok?”

Grantaire flashed him a tired but genuine smile. “Everything is fine,” he assured him, and Enjolras relaxed, just a little. “Other than the fact that it is, like, 2 in the morning here. And this late night shit is not for me anymore. Five years ago, this would have been a typical Tuesday. Now, I’m gonna need, like, six weeks to recover.”

“You and me both,” Enjolras sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be really glad to get out of Switzerland and to a more reasonable time zone. Especially one with far more reasonable prices.”

“That sounds like a story,” Grantaire said with a grin. “Protesting the World Economic Forum at Davos not everything you dreamed it’d be?”

Enjolras groaned. “Hardly,” he said. “I paid $17 for a tuna fish sandwich yesterday. And it wasn’t a fancy sandwich. It was on white bread.”

Grantaire nodded appreciatively. “A fact that I’m sure was easier for you to swallow when you remembered that you don’t like tuna fish,” he said, sniggering as Enjolras gave him the finger. “So, uh, why exactly did you get a tuna sandwich anyway?”

“I thought it was turkey,” Enjolras said with a sigh. “My French isn’t what it used to be.”

Grantaire looked like he was trying very hard not to laugh. “Don’t they mostly speak German in Davos?”

“Shut up,” Enjolras groaned, and now Grantaire did laugh. After a moment, Enjolras reluctantly joined, barking a laugh before hesitating. “I miss you,” he said. “And not your German is better than mine.”

“If it’s German you’re looking for, you should be FaceTiming with Marius,” Grantaire teased, though something sobered in his expression. “But I know. And I miss you, too.”

Silence fell between them, and Enjolras hesitated again, not wanting to ruin what had otherwise been a fairly drama-free phone call. “Should we talk about last night?” he hedged finally.

Grantaire groaned, running a tired hand across his face. “Only if you force me to,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry, I really am—”

“I know, Enjolras told him quickly. “And it’s ok, really, I just—”

“I fell asleep during FaceTime sex,” Grantaire interrupted, his hand still covering his face. “There is absolutely nothing ok about that.” 

“At least you fell asleep before it got any good?” Enjolras offered. Grantaire just snorted and Enjolras sighed. “It’s the jet lag, I’m sure.”

Grantaire lowered his hand to give Enjolras a look. “Babe, you’re the one in a different time zone.”

“And you’re the one living your life like you are,” Enjolras countered.

Grantaire sighed. “I know,” he murmured, something darkening in his expression.

Enjolras worried his lower lip between his teeth before saying bracingly, “But hey, after Switzerland, it’s just a quick stop in Germany and then a short jump down to Peru for a couple days—”

“Peru?” Grantaire interrupted, his voice strained. “When the hell did Peru get added to agenda?”

Enjolras had the sudden, horrible realization that while he’d let Combeferre and Courfeyrac know about his plans to meet with the protestors in Peru, he’d forgotten to include Grantaire on that particular email. “Well, seeing as how there’s been widespread state violence against protestors—” he started, a defensive edge creeping into his voice.

“All of which is being thoroughly covered by folks on the ground,” Grantaire said, his voice tight.

“I know that, but—”

Grantaire sighed. “But what?” he asked tiredly.

Enjolras shrugged. “But it’s important,” he said quietly.

There was a long pause before Grantaire jerked a nod, not quite meeting Enjolras’s eyes. “I know,” he said. “I just miss you.”

“I know,” Enjolras echoed. “I miss you, too.”

Silence again stretched between them, but Enjolras didn’t try to interrupt it this time, just watching as Grantaire forced his expression into something neutral before finally meeting Enjolras’s eyes again. “Listen,” he started, “I hate to do this given the timing of the conversation we just finished, and I really don’t want you to read too much into it, but can we cancel our standing call before you go to bed tonight?”

“Oh,” Enjolras said, feeling his heart sink to somewhere near his stomach. He scratched the back of his neck before admitting, “It’s a little hard for me not to read into that, given everything.”

“I know,” Grantaire said heavily. “I just really need some sleep.”

Though Enjolras nodded, he couldn’t help but ask quietly, “At, what, 4:30 in the afternoon?”

Grantaire sighed again. “If that’s what it takes.”

Enjolras nodded again, even though he was the one who could no longer quite meet Grantaire’s eyes. “Ok,” he said. “Then I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” He hesitated before adding, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Grantaire said before ending the call, and Enjolras stared down at the screen of his phone for a long moment, trying very hard to resist the sudden, inexplicable urge to hurl his phone against the wall.

— — — — —

Needles to say, when Enjolras woke up almost 24 hours later in a terrible mood, it wasn’t just because he’d somehow managed to wake up before his phone alarm went off. In fact, it took him a long moment of glowering up at his ceiling to realize what exactly had woken him up in the first place: the sound of knocking on the door of his AirBNB.

He lay there for a moment longer before finally getting up, willing himself not to bite the head off of whichever fellow protester had the misfortune of knocking on his door that morning. He yanked the door open, ready to tell whoever it was that he needed another hour, but instead, he found himself face-to-face with— 

“Grantaire?”

“Hey,” Grantaire said tiredly.

Enjolras stared at him as if he might be imagining him. “What– how?” he croaked.

Grantaire shrugged, the movement slightly hampered by his backpack and puffy green coat. “Had to use basically all your frequent flier miles, but I got the last seat on a flight to Zurich, and then had the misfortune – I mean, uh, luck, to split a cab with some Politico reporter to Davos.” Enjolras just stared at him and Grantaire continued, slightly uncomfortably, “Then, because your AirBNB is like 18 years away from the actual event, I took the world’s most expensive Uber, which, don’t worry, I charged to your AmEx, and now, well.” He shrugged. “Now I’m here.”

“You’re—” Enjolras cut himself off by surging forward to kiss him, cupping his unshaven cheek with one hand, the other hand balling in the folds of his coat, tugging him even closer.

When they broke apart, Grantaire was grinning, though his smile looked slightly dazed. “So I’ll take it you’re not mad that I’m here?”

“Mad?” Enjolras repeated, incredulous. “Why would I be mad?”

“Well, other than because I spent a small fortune here, because your work is important,” Grantaire said. “Which I know as well as if not better than anyone else.” He shrugged again. “So I could understand that my showing up here unannounced may not have been entirely appreciated.”

He was eyeing Enjolras with something like wariness, and Enjolras’s expression softened. “It is very appreciated,” he assured him, kissing him once more. He hesitated before adding, “Though it does make me wonder, why, y’know, you’re here.”

“Well—” Enjolras shivered and Grantaire broke off. “How about we move this conversation out of the doorway?” he suggested and Enjolras barked a laugh.

“Good call,” he said, stepping back to let Grantaire inside.

Grantaire glanced around the place as he dropped his bag before shedding his coat, scarf and mittens. “Heckuva place,” he said mildly. 

Enjolras made a face. “Sorry, all the chalets were being rented by the billionaires,” he said sourly.

Grantaire laughed. “Shame.” He held his hand out to Enjolras, who took it, lacing their fingers as he trailed after Grantaire to the couch, Grantaire automatically shifting so that Enjolras could pillow his head against his chest as if they were back home and not in some stranger’s house 4500 miles away. 

“So,” Enjolras said, his eyelids fluttering closed as Grantaire automatically started stroking his hair, “why are you here?”

Grantaire laughed lightly, the sound a low rumble against Enjolras’s ear. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “Because I fell asleep during FaceTime sex.”

Enjolras frowned and pushed himself upright. “What?” he asked, searching Grantaire’s expression, half-expecting to see that he was teasing. “Why—”

“Enjolras, I fell asleep during sex,” Grantaire interrupted impatiently. “That’s never happened to me before. Embarrassingly soon afterward, sure, but during? With you?”

Enjolras’s frown deepened. “So you thought, what, I would be upset about this enough to merit a little hop, skip and a jump across the Atlantic Ocean?” he asked skeptically. 

Grantaire shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to be upset at all.” 

“Well, good,” Enjolras said. “Because for the record, I’m not. And I wasn’t at the time.” He hesitated, feeling like he was missing something obvious. “So then why—”

“Because I was upset!” Grantaire told him, all hints of amusement gone. “Because when you’re halfway around the world, I get you for, charitably, half an hour a day. And I fell asleep and wasted that.” He paused before adding, a little pointedly, “Especially since I just found out you’ve added a stop to your itinerary.”

Enjolras winced. “I know I should’ve cleared it with you first—”

“You never need to clear things with me,” Grantaire told him. “But a head’s up would’ve been nice.”

“I know,” Enjolras said quietly, “and I’m sorry.”

Grantaire nodded. “So since I figured it’ll be at least another week until you’re home, I figured I owed it to both of us to make sure we had more than a half hour together.”

Automatically, Enjolras glanced over at the clock on the wall. “How long do we have together?”

“My flight leaves at 3 tomorrow afternoon<” Grantaire told him. “So, basically tonight.”

Enjolras made a face, even though he had suspected as much. “And that’s enough to make it worth it?”

“For you? Always.”

Grantaire said it easily, like it was the simplest declaration in the world, and Enjolras reached out automatically for him, kissing him gently. “I love you,” he murmured.

Grantaire tugged him back down against him. “I know. I love you, too.” He tugged lightly on one of Enjolras’s curls. “And it’s really fucking good to see you in person.”

Enjolras traced a finger lightly against Grantaire’s chest. “About Peru—”

“You don’t need to explain,” Grantaire said.

Enjolras shook his head. “I wasn’t going to. But I had a thought.” He took a deep breath. “How about after Peru, we meet in Mexico for a little together time?” 

For a moment, Grantaire lit up. Then his eyes narrowed. “Why Mexico?”

Even after all this time, Enjolras would never get over how quickly Grantaire could see through him. “Well,” he started, a little weakly, “there’s rumblings about the government reneging on their tentative deal with the ejidatarios who were protesting at Chichén Itzá, so I figured—”

Grantaire snorted a laugh. “Kill two birds with one stone,” he muttered. “Why am I not surprised?” He bent to press a kiss to Enjolras’s forehead. “How about you just come home?”

Enjolras smiled at him. “That I think I can do.”

They could have stayed like that for hours, but then, from the bedroom, Enjolras’s phone alarm went off and Grantaire’s hand stilled in his hair. “Duty calls?”

Enjolras shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “We’ve got time.”

A small, sharp smile tugged at the corner of Grantaire’s lips. “How much time?” he asked, his voice pitched low.

Enjolras laughed. “Probably not enough time for that, especially if I want to shower before hitting the protest.”

Grantaire didn’t look disappointed. Instead, he looked almost contemplative. “How about we kill two birds with one stone?”

Enjolras pursed his lips. “What did you have in mind?”

Grantaire shrugged, his smile widening. “Well, you need to shower, and after about 12 hours of traveling, I definitely need to shower.”

It was hardly the most subtle suggestion, but Enjolras didn’t care. They were together, no matter how briefly, and he had never been one to waste time. Or water, for that matter. He grinned and stood, offering Grantaire his hand. “That I think I can do.”

[seriouslysam8]

Brumous Sneak Peek

Okay! Only a day late. This is unedited, just forwarded.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Vidya Patil

Remus stood outside of Sirius’ Hogsmeade house, a sigh on his lips. He rose his knuckles to the wood and waited patiently for Sirius to answer. On Thursday night, pacing the waiting room of St. Mungo’s for news about Sirius’ condition, he vowed he would be a better friend. Because honestly, Remus was a shit friend just as much as Sirius was a shit friend. They never needed to truly step up before because that had always been the role bestowed upon James in their friendship group. James had watched out for everyone, he had been the one to listen and help with their problems, he had been the most compassionate one. Remus and Sirius had their fair share of problems, and James had been there at even the smallest whiff of one.

But James was dead. There was only Remus and Sirius left – probably the two least social members of the Marauders. They didn’t talk about feelings or emotions. That had been James. All James. Always James. Remus knew for months that he needed to emulate James with Sirius but he never truly had. It wasn’t a role that came easily to him, to either of them.

The door opened and Sirius looked absolutely exhausted. With a nod in greeting, Sirius stepped aside and allowed Remus to enter his house. Shoving his hands into his Macintosh coat, Remus turned around to face his oldest friend.

“How are you, Sirius?” Remus asked.

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, his head cocking to the side. “Bloody exhausted. Everyone says how freeing therapy is, but nobody tells you how mentally tired you feel afterwards.”

Remus nodded. “It was good then?”

Sirius shrugged. “I don’t know. I wanted to drink after it, so… there’s that, I guess.”

Remus sucked in a breath, observing his friend. “Did you drink?”

“No, Remus, I didn’t fucking drink,” Sirius snapped, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling. “You did clean out the place over the weekend, did you not?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, and I also told Aberforth not to serve you.”

Sirius let out a half laugh, half scoff. “I want to say fuck you but I suppose I should be grateful,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Remus let out a low chuckle, not being able to help the soft smile the spread across his face. He stared at Sirius, soaking in the dark bags under his eyes and the lines that creased in his forehead. He looked thinner than normal, like he had been wasting away for the past couple of months without anyone the wiser. Remus was very acutely aware that his problems had probably started around the time Harry went back to Hogwarts. Without the teenager to care for and fret over, Sirius didn’t know what to do with his time. Remus knew how cruel one’s mind could be when left to its own devices.

“I’m sorry I didn’t spend Halloween with you,” Remus said, because the guilt had been eating away at him all weekend. “I just didn’t want to spend another Halloween depressed. Dora is so full of life and always so happy that I thought it would… I don’t even know. Just thought it’d be a nice change for once not to want to drink until I passed out on Halloween.”

Sirius nodded. “You don’t have to apologize for treating it like a normal day. It’s what James and Lily would want.”

“You’re my best friend, Sirius,” Remus explained, his eyebrows tugging down. “I should have been there for you.”

Sirius’ tongue peeked out to lick his bottom lip, his gaze dropping to the floor. “If it wasn’t Halloween, it would have been another day. It wasn’t just Halloween that had me drinking so heavily.”

Remus didn’t know what that meant. Surely, they were both just trying to survive October as best they could. If there was something else that was going on with Sirius, Remus hadn’t the foggiest idea as to what. But Andromeda had dropped a hint that something else was going on once he and Harry had gotten back from France a few weeks ago. Sirius hadn’t even been willing to talk to her until one day when she apparently had ambushed him at his house. Maybe Sirius would tell him so he could help as well.

“Did something else happen?” Remus inquired. 

[lawfullyandlovely]

Sachruka Fluff (Holiday Edition)

“The lights are so beautiful, don’t you think so, Haru?” Sachie smiled at her boyfriend, squeezing his gloved hand. He let out a small cough before nodding shyly. Albeit it was rather dark out, Haruka could feel the rosy colored blush dusting on his cheeks as he felt Sachie give his hand a gentle squeeze

“Y-Yeah, it’s pretty….” He commented, his blue eyes glistening as it took in the string of lights that illuminated the crowded plaza. Several people were huddled around the Christmas tree, snapping family photos or couples pictures to brag about on instagram. The blue-haired male moved impossibly closer to Sachie, almost afraid to accidentally get lost in the sea of strangers

Lord knows he doesn’t need a repeat when he nearly had a panic attack at the amusement park last week

“Do you wanna take another picture or go home now? It’s getting pretty late, huh?” Sachie dug through her coat pocket with her free hand and pulled out her iPhone. Haruka couldn’t tell if she was just checking time or already opening the camera app, influencing what he’d choose. Instead, he just stuttered out anything that came to mind

“I….I don’t know….” He replied, earning a warm smile from the ravenette. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, revealing snowflake shaped studs embellished with diamonds. The same earrings that Haruka gifted her for Hanukkah two weeks back. Expensive, he knows

“That’s fine. I feel like we took a lot already and it’s getting kinda rowdy. We can stop for some hot chocolate or lattes before we catch the train back home,” She suggested, making Haruka nod

“Yeah, that’s fine,” He said, following Sachie hand and hand out of the area where the large Christmas tree was displayed. Sachie hummed a sweet tune, making Haruka smile at her, almost giggling to himself. Adorable, he thought

The lawyer observed her boyfriend from time to time as she lead the way, and saw him smiling from the corner of her green eyes. Her lips tugged into her own grin, as she used her free hand to give his cheek a mild pinch

“A-Ah! Sachie?” Haruka snapped from his trance and turned to her. She chuckled and gave him a quick peck on the same place she pinched

“You were smiling at me. Am I really that attractive?” She teased, earning a deeper tint of red on Haruka’s face. Even in the darkness, the close proximity between them was enough to see his flustered expression

“A-Ah, W-Was I? S-Sorry, just….” He looked down at the concrete, focusing on the snow that was shoveled against the sidewalk to clear a path for pedestrians. He felt another grin, this time, a more relaxed one and looked up at Sachie with kind, blue eyes

“I….can’t remember a time I was this happy….on the holidays too….”

The female couldn’t help but touch her heart at his statement. She played with her coat’s gold zipper before tugging at it with a mix of happiness and bittersweet memories. She knew about his housing situation before they became a couple. She knew about his mother and how she didn’t even call him by his name. More importantly, she was aware that she was, quite literally, everything to Haruka from the love and affection she showed him

“I’m….happy to know that you’re happy, Haru,” Sachie started, cupping her hand against his cheek “And whatever happened in the past can stay in the past. You have me now. And remember? I promised to make you happy,” She stated

If he wasn’t worried about concerning Sachie with tears, Haruka would’ve bawled from pure bliss right then and there. Instead, his smile was softened into a gaze of pure adoration, recalling the best day of his life—the day Sachie asked him out. He said yes without stammering nor hesitation, but became a flustered mess when he realized he accepted

“A-And, I promised to protect that h-happiness. I p-promised to protect you, like you save me, hehe….” He reminded her, making Sachie be the one to feel a blush across her nose and cheeks

“We’re both so lucky to have each other, huh?” She giggled, but gasped pointing in front of her “C’mon, Haru! The coffee shop is right up ahead and they’re still selling white chocolate mochas!” She practically dragged Haruka by the arm, pulling him towards her with great might. She ran with her boyfriend behind her, trying to match her speed

“A-Ah! Coming, angel!” He quickly exclaimed, but couldn’t help but replay the conversation they had just now. Simple, but it was always the small things that mattered for Haruka. Or, at least, the things that made him feel loved by his favorite person

‘She’s so kind to someone like me….I want nothing else but to have her forever…’

[the-afterhoursgoodgirl]

So it says you haven’t been active in like 2 weeks but I’m gonna try and submit this ask anyway. So my coworker and I have been pining for each other for awhile and finally he asked me on a date. Well I think he wants to go all the way this weekend and I definitely want to as well. But I’ve only had sex with one other person….when I was 16, I’m now 23. So I’m really really nervous about how I’m going to look, taste, and feel because I really want this to be good for him and I don’t have any good experience. Any words of advice to help a girl out?

Hi anon!

I just saw this!! I am so sorry I haven’t been active; I’ve been more active on main lately ❤️

I hope “this weekend” hasn’t past yet.. I hope it’s this coming weekend. If not, I am sorry but this can be for future dates 🥰💕 however, if it is in fact, this coming weekend (10/8), then I want to say a couple of things here. All of it comes from personal experience.

1. Be honest with him. That’s perfectly okay if you haven’t had sex since you were younger. Not everyone is sexually active all the time. I personally haven’t had sex in over a year and I’m 26. It happens and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

2. Looks. We always want to look sexy the first time we sleep with anyone, it’s normal and can be super stressful at times. I don’t have a lot of advice for this one but what I can say is this - confidence is sexy. Make yourself feel good all day long before he comes over. That weekend is a self care weekend. Take a long shower to wash and exfoliate, then take a hot bath to relax; light a candle, listen to some music, watch your favorite tv show, and relax. Lotion your body, make yourself extra soft for him, then get out and get ready. Also go shopping! Go find some lingerie you feel sexy in! You like your nails done or your hair done too? Do it. Either yourself or professionally. When you feel good, your confidence will skyrocket.

Also if you’re comfortable and would like to show me an outfit or something before dinner or sex, I’m always open to be your hype girl 😌😏

3. Smell. I promise you without a shadow of a doubt, your scent is natural and is uniquely YOU 💕 We are not supposed to smell like roses and if we do, something is super wrong with our Ph levels. As long as you shower beforehand (do not clean the inside as you are a self cleaning organ) and clean the outside as you normally would, you’re good to go! Nothing in this world is more attractive to a grown man than the smell of his woman when she’s horny. I promise you ❤️❤️

As far as hair and such goes, remember, real men do not give a shit about body hair. Do not let a man bring you down because you decided not to shave all the way and be bald.

If you have any questions or just want to talk, feel free to DM me :) I will be more active on this blog and reply to you!! ❤️❤️

[hpimaginesandblurbs]

PLEASEE we need a part 2 of Draco arranged marriage smut with preg readerr😩❕

mixed with this request: hey, can i request a combo of smut, angst, fluff draco x fem reader where she’s his wife, but draco’s been very busy lately and she needs him, she thinks he doesn’t find her attractive anymore because they hadn’t had sex in a long time, but draco tells her that he still loves her and make love to her? sorry if this is weird, and only if you’re comfortable. anyways have a good day

pairing: draco malfoy x reader

word count: 2.5k

warning(s): 18+, pregnant!reader, mentions of negative body image, mentions of weight gain, oral (female receiving), breast play, pregnant sex

a/n: this is actually part 3 to the arranged marriage draco series, so feel free to read the other two before this one if you haven't already! i love these ones so much. also my fbi agent probably thinks i'm a really kinky pregnant lady based on my search history while writing this but oh well.

part 1 / part 2 

It had been almost two years since your arranged marriage to Draco Malfoy and a lot had changed since then.

Firstly, you two were very much happily in love. Your engagement and the first two weeks of your marriage had been awkward and tense, leading you to find pleasure in the arms of your ex. After an impulsive move to admit your mistake to Draco on the very same day, mixed in with some aggressive sex, you two had decided to give your relationship a real shot. It was the best decision either of you had ever made. And now, two years later, you could happily and honestly say it was a real marriage filled with love.

Secondly, Draco had fully taken over as the sole leader of the Malfoy’s family business. You still weren’t entirely sure what the business entailed even after he had explained it to you a dozen times, but you were still proud of him. He worked hard and that hard work was all for you and your growing family.

Oh, right.

The biggest change in your lives has been your pregnancy. It wasn’t exactly planned but it wasn’t exactly an accident either. The two of you had simply decided to let fate decide, and fate was deciding now. You were six months in and you were really beginning to show. It wasn’t the bump that was the problem, but your husband's reaction. Or non-reaction. You understood he was busy with work and more than likely tired when he finally made it to bed, but he had barely touched you over the past few weeks other than small kisses. You knew he loved you, there was no doubting that, but you were starting to have your doubts about his attraction towards you.

Which led to the current situation unfolding in your bedroom.

“Why are you wearing that to bed? You never wear that much clothing to go to sleep,” Draco asked, his face laced with concern as he stripped from his work clothes near the bottom of the bed.

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. Or scream. Because of course he noticed. He noticed everything. You settled on giving him a non committed shrug, but of course he wasn’t having any of that either.

He quickly rounded to the bed to sit down beside you. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked, already bringing his hand up to feel your forehead.

You quickly pushed his hand away and this time you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes. “I feel fine,” you replied shortly, praying that he wouldn’t keep pestering you about it.

In truth, you were wearing a full set of pajamas to bed because you just didn’t feel attractive wearing your usual over sized shirts or skimpy, small sets anymore. You knew, rationally, that most of it was in your head, but his lack of libido for you lately wasn’t helping you feel much better about your current weight gain.

“Why all the clothing, then? Are you cold? I can turn the heat up if you’d like,” Draco continued, but he stood back up to continue changing.

“Draco, I said I was fine,” you insisted, barely keeping the annoyance out of your voice.

“Do you have a sexy set of lingerie underneath that you want me to find?” He asked, playfully now.

You scoffed. “Not that you’d fuck me if I did anyways,” you whispered under your breath.

But of course he heard you.

“What was that?” He asked, spinning back around to face you, his shirt half unbuttoned and his tie around his neck. Damn him for looking so good.

“I know you heard me. Don’t make me repeat it,” you replied coldly, rolling over so you didn’t have to face him any more.

“Y/N,” he called, trying to get your attention, trying to get you to turn back around. Once he realized that wouldn’t work, he rounded the bed so he could see your face. “Why do you think that?” He asked calmly, but you could see the desperate confusion all over his face.

“‘Why do I think that?’” You mocked, the question riling you up enough to force you to sit up. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you haven’t touched me in weeks. I know I’ve gained weight and I know I’m probably starting to look like a whale but-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cut you off, swiftly climbing onto the bed so he could be closer to you. “Darling, please calm down,” he pleaded softly, gently dragging you onto his lap so he could hold you. You let him move you easily, but you were still uneasy. He held you close and waited for you to calm down a bit and get settled before he started.

“First of all, you don’t look like a whale so let’s get that out of the way. You never have and you never will no matter how big this baby gets. You’re growing a child inside of you, darling. Please don’t be so hard on yourself for something you’re supposed to be doing right now,” he told you, absentmindedly stroking your growing belly. It was a new quirk he had picked up once you started showing - either of you started talking about the baby and suddenly his hand was on your stomach. The familiarity of the movement put you at ease and you leaned further into him.

“Secondly, I haven’t initiated anything because you were telling me how tired you’ve been. I didn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want or end up hurting you or the baby, so I didn’t try anything. I realize now that that was a mistake, because I hate that I made you feel this way, darling. I should have just asked. But please trust me when I tell you I’ve wanted you every day, same as it’s always been and always will be. Merlin, the past few weeks I’ve been going to bed and waking up hard enough to pound nails,” he admitted sheepishly, causing you to giggle.

Even the thought of him being hard had you clit throbbing and your body perking up. The past few weeks had left you desperate and aching despite the fatigue and other pregnancy symptoms wreaking havoc on your body. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, you wanted him now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He finally asked, cutting off your train of thought.

You debated lying or even brushing off the question, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it unless he was certain you were being honest. Serious conversations called for honest responses.

“A couple of reasons I guess. You work hard all day and I know you’re tired by the time we get to bed, so I felt bad asking. And with the thoughts I was having it didn’t even really seem worth it to try anything because I thought you’d just shut me down,” you confessed, not even daring to look up at him.

“Darling, the day I say no to sex with you is the day my cock doesn’t work,” he said with a chuckle, but his hand came up to grab you under the chin to turn your head to face him. “I think you’re beautiful, Y/N. I have since the day I met you and everyday since. I don’t call you ‘my pretty girl’ for no reason. If you wanted me to make you feel good, you could have just asked me.”

You gave him a small smile, your first genuine one all day. But you jumped at the opportunity. “Even right now?” You asked bashfully, referencing the less-than-sexy pajamas you were wearing.

He didn’t even bother giving you an answer. On your next breath, he was pulling you into a heated kiss that you have been waiting weeks for. You both have been waiting if his enthusiasm was anything to go by.

Gently, so gently as if you might break if he was any rougher, he moved you both until you were laying flat on your back without breaking the kiss once. In mere moments he was stripping you bare, removing your layers until you were finally exposed to him. He didn’t give you a moment to be insecure, though.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, his dark eyes trailing over every inch of your body. You might have thought he was just feeding you compliments if you didn’t see the utter rapture in his eyes, but his look of lust was unmistakable.

You were breathless just from the way he was looking at you, equally stunned and turned on by the way he was devouring you with his eyes. But when he immediately ducked down to lick a harsh trail up your soaked slit, a moan of pleasure got ripped from your throat without hesitation. After weeks of nothing but self inflicted torture, feeling his tongue on you was an otherworldly experience.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he murmured against your aching clit before unleashing himself on you like a starving man. He started on your clit, giving it kitten licks and sucking it in between his lips until your legs were shaking. Eventually, he made his way down to your entrance to fuck you with his tongue, making you writhe against the sheets and practically scream his name.

“Cum for me, pretty girl. I can feel how close you are,” he demanded, his lips a caress against your sensitive skin as he worked you closer and closer to your release with his tongue.

He sucked your clit into his mouth one last time, and that was your undoing. You came with a scream, your back arching obscenely as wave upon wave of pleasure coursed through your body. Despite not having made you cum in weeks, your husband certainly did not disappoint. You doubted he ever would.

You could feel Draco staring at you as you came down from your high, and when you cracked your eyes open you were just as transfixed as he looked. His usually perfect hair was a mess, sticking up in odd places from the way you had mused your fingers through his locks. His lips were swollen and wet, in equal measure from the kisses you had been sharing and his exquisite ministrations on your still throbbing cunt. And his eyes were dark with lust, staring into yours like you held the answer to every question he ever had.

“Did that feel good, darling?” He cooed, his hands trailing possessively up your body as he raised himself to hover above you.

“I want more,” you told him honestly as he took your tender breasts in his hands, tweaking your nipples just to force a whine out of you.

“Keep making those pretty noises and we might be here all night,” he said with a smirk, his head ducking down to suck on the nipples he had just been playing with.

It felt so much better than it usually did, probably thanks to how sore they were. His tongue was soothing every inch of you and every movement caused another pulse of pleasure to go directly to your clit.

“Fuck, I think I can cum like this,” you gasped, pulling his head impossibly closer to your chest.

With graceful ease he doubled down on his actions, licking and sucking on your nipples with fervor as he slipped a hand down to play with your clit. Your body was in sensory overload as he worked you closer and closer to the edge, never once stopping what he was doing just to get you there.

You arched your back, suffocating him with your breasts as you reached your peak. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he worked you through it, his own moans vibrating against your sensitive nipples.

Draco wasted no time in stripping the second your breathing evened out, settling himself in the cradle of your thighs once he was back on the bed at lightning speed.

“Tell me if it’s too much. I don’t know how gentle I can be right now,” he said softly, a warning you’d probably ignore because you needed him inside of you just as badly as he did right now.

You could only nod back, your voice caught in your throat in anticipation. In one swift movement, he was buried inside you to the hilt, both of you giving strangled moans at the sensation.

He started slow, letting your body readjust to his impressive length and girth. You weren’t even sure which noises were yours and which were his, but you did know you were fighting not to roll your eyes back in your head in order to watch him work. He was clearly holding back, but his impeccable self control was shattering as he thrust inside of you.

You knew just how to break him.

“Fuck me like you mean it. Draco, please. I want to feel it in the morning,” you whined, your voice breathy from just his slow movements. You knew you’d be helpless to your own desire once he broke, but you knew it would be worth it.

He took a moment to look at you, an assessing gaze in his eyes. It was sweet that he didn’t want to hurt you, but that’s not what you needed or wanted right now. Far from it, really. He must have liked what he saw because from one breath to the next, you were screaming his name.

His next thrust was brutal, deep and hard just the way you were craving. You knew neither of you would last long like this, not with all the pent up arousal, but it was worth it to feel the powerful movements of his hips as he ruined you.

Despite his lack of control, he was still meticulous in the way he tore you apart. Slowly, he dipped his head down once more to suck a nipple into his mouth. Your back arched as you writhed under him, only pushing his cock deeper inside of you. Once you felt his fingers on your clit, you knew you were done for.

The world was a blur as your climax hit you, your vision and hearing almost nonexistent as he fucked you through it. It was only when you heard Draco let out his own ragged, breathless moan that you felt your body falling back into place underneath him while he released deep inside of you.

You both stayed like that for a time, your bodies still joined and close as you both came back down to earth. It felt almost impossible to catch your breath, but when he pulled out and wrapped you in his arms you felt your entire body settle into him. The silence that fell over the room was peaceful and content, but a stark contrast from what it had been mere minutes ago.

“Go to sleep, pretty girl. I’m staying home tomorrow and at this rate it’s doubtful we’ll ever make it out of bed,” he finally said, his promise coming with a smirk you couldn’t see from your angle but you knew was dancing across his face.

“I like the sound of that,” you conceded, slowly succumbing to the sleep you desperately needed after that, but the last thought you had before sleep took you was that you had never felt more loved, more cherished, more beautiful than right now in his arms.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

The Birds & The Bees (S.R. | Pt. 4)

Summary: Reader has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, which her Professor is hellbent on making a little bit better. A/N: If y’all thought you hated Kyle (bathroom bitch boy), just wait until you meet the new antagonist (of the female variety) here... I hope you all enjoy! 😚 Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Sexual themes/fantasies Word Count: 6.3k

MASTERLIST | Series Masterlist

——————————————————

Einstein once attributed his genius to his childlike sense of humor. Studies performed since then have largely proven his point — funny people tend to have higher IQs, which makes sense when you consider the cognitive and emotional intelligence required to produce humor.

Spencer Reid was no exception. The only problem was that his humor was so remarkably niche and impossibly specific that barely anyone could understand the punchline. He insisted to me that he’d gotten better over the years, which I only barely believed… until he told me a joke that hadn’t left my mind since. A joke that he described as ‘just crude enough to make it palatable to the layman.’

"Caffeine and Viagra are both phosphodiesterase inhibitors,” he’d said — a slow start if there had ever been such a thing. But I held on to hope, hanging on the ecstatic, guileless smile he wore. And boy, was I glad I did, because what he’d said next broke me into a frankly embarrassing fit of giggles that returned with the memory every time.

“Which explains why both of these drugs keep you up all night."

The poor barista stuck working the busy early morning shift eyed me like I’d grown two heads when I once again devolved into laughter for no apparent reason. I almost felt embarrassed about it, but then I reassured myself that if she’d heard Dr. Spencer Reid tell a drug-induced-boner joke, she would also laugh about it forever.

I’d been thinking about him a lot lately. Not in a perverse way, either, despite his increasing comfort in breaching such topics in my presence. It was more like I’d started to infuse him into my every day, finding him in whatever way my brain would allow. While I made my way to his office, I breathed in the soothing scent drifting from the cups that were precariously perched in flimsy cardboard.

The smell took me back to quiet moments in his office. The kind of simple serenity that accompanied silence between two people who need not speak to share ideas. Where the second you looked away, you felt their eyes follow you, like the universe couldn’t maintain its structural integrity without one of you looking at the other.

It was intoxicating and alluring; so easy to lose myself in. Something I knew was dangerous for a number of reasons.

For example, when I am not paying the utmost attention to my surroundings, I have a tendency to lose track of where I am and what I’m doing. I also tend to… drop things. Especially hot and otherwise dangerous things.

Things like the two cups of coffee that finally became too much for shallow, defective cardboard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screeched as I became acutely aware of every place where scorching hot, drenched clothing hung on angry skin. Normally, I would at least try to sound more dignified while on my way to work, but it hardly seemed like it mattered anymore.

I was too busy hurriedly tearing at my shirt and dropping everything else I was holding. I’d gotten three whole buttons on my shirt popped by the time I remembered it wasn’t technically necessary. I dropped my bag immediately at the thought, tugging on the hem of the shirt and trying to bring it over my head.

Unfortunately, I still hadn’t regained my grace, and in the muddled mess of fabric, I’d also grabbed hold of my undershirt. Which meant that whoever was walking through the empty halls of the early morning in academia would find me, with my stomach exposed and clothing dripping while unintelligible curses flowed freely from my lips.

I expected most people would probably just turn around and leave. I probably would’ve. The giant splatter of coffee and the absolute idiot slipping in it were beyond saving.

But there was at least one person who saw the mess and stayed.

I smelled his cologne before I felt his hand was pressed over the bare skin of my lower back. Despite the fact my skin was burning, it welcomed the warmth of his touch. My body stopped at his command, waiting for him to break me free of the paradoxically frozen state I was in.

He pulled the shirt back down, just enough that I could see him when he wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders and started guiding me into his office, which I’d somehow managed to almost walk straight past in my daze. I wished that I could go back there, to the imaginary world where he hadn’t just seen me half disrobed and cursing while covered in the coffee that I’d meant to give to him.

Spencer’s hands left me once the door was shut, probably trusting, or at least hoping, that I could figure out the mess on my own. Oddly enough, I didn’t notice any signs of him staring at me. Like he only felt comfortable looking when I was clothed.

I tried not to think about it. Once I did manage to free myself of one of the shirts — without further flashing my boss — the anxiety brewing inside of me burst out in the form of frantic shouting.

“Hi Professor! I’m so sorry, I spilled the coffee!”

“Yeah, I... saw the puddle,” he mumbled, throwing a cursory glance back at the hallway before his eyes met mine with a terrifying level of compassion, “Are you alright?”

“Besides the boiling liquid on my skin and the horrid embarrassment? I guess,” I mumbled back before shouting, “Shit! This is why that woman sued McDonald’s! Why do stores serve coffee like that?!”

Spencer didn’t really say anything. In fact, he kind of just stood as frozen as I had been, staring at everything around me rather than meeting my eyes again. But while he seemed somewhat cool and composed, I continued to tug at my clothes to try and avoid the friction. It was then that he cleared his throat, covering his face just like he’d done when he saw me in an arguably more provocative position the week before.

Arguably, I said. I should have known that Spencer would win any argument. I should have considered why he was making such a point of not looking at me while I clawed at the white undershirt turned beige. But I didn’t. Not until I looked down to inspect the state of my skin.

I realized then that Spencer had been trying to figure out a way to inform me that not only had the coffee turned my shirt a different shade — it had also eliminated the opacity.

He could see my bra. Spencer Reid, my boss, was trying not to stare at my very clearly visible bra.

“God, this is the worst Monday of all Mondays!” I whined between half-sobs, “and Mondays are already bad, Professor!”

There must have been something else in that cry, too. Something akin to permission. Enough for him to step closer, managing to avoid looking at my chest in the process. I’d entirely forgotten that he’d wrapped me in his cardigan until he pulled it tighter around my shoulders like his own version of an embrace.

“That they are, Bunny.”

If my skin had been heated before, it turned to flames at the use of the nickname. It was honestly a pure work of magic that the liquid on me didn’t turn vaporize the second I’d heard the word.

Bunny?

I pushed the thought away as quick as humanly possible, focusing instead on the way my clothes were going from uncomfortably hot to frigid as a result of the usually refreshing air conditioning. But when I was once again reminded of the obvious undergarment, I sighed.

“I can probably ask a friend to bring me a replacement shirt, or just go to class like this,” I thought aloud, “No one really looks at me, anyway...”

Spencer’s response came immediately, his hands flying up in protest as he shouted, “No!”

I wasn’t quite sure how to reply to that, or even which part of the statement he was objecting to, so he was met with a wide-eyed, slow blinking stare.

“I-I mean, I have a shirt you can borrow. I don’t want to subject you to any further embarrassment,” he explained at a significantly more appropriate volume, “You can just wear my extra shirt.”

He turned away from me before I could respond, shuffling through something hidden beneath his desk that created more questions than answers for me.

“Why do you have an extra shirt?”

“Go bag,” he said in the most nondescript manner. It wasn’t necessarily abnormal, either. The question I’d asked didn’t spark any concerns in his mind, but it also wasn’t the question that I felt needed to be asked.

What I really wanted to say was caught in my throat. My hands clamped together in front of me tighter than my jaw that resisted opening to make way for the thoughts that felt more scandalous than they should’ve been.  

“U-Um, Professor don’t you think—“

“Here you go,” he offered with a smile. I took the large, plain black shirt with a hefty dose of caution, my hands shaking along with my broken voice that still couldn’t finish the sentence from before.

Spencer finally noticed the struggle on my face, and I watched his body move from comfortable to defensive in a matter of seconds. Like he was worried he’d done something wrong in trying to be kind.

He hadn’t, but I felt like I had.

“Won’t people... you know?” I mumbled, motioning a hand between the two of us, “I’m showing up to your class at 8AM wearing your clothes…”

I thought that the words alone would be enough. I thought that the gesture was overkill. But Spencer was still staring at me with his head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed in thought.

I was going to have to say it.

Won’t they think we’re having sex?

There was no way I was going to be able to say it.

“Aren’t you concerned about people getting… the wrong idea?” I blurted out, instead.

The confusion on his face shifted to a clever little self-assured smirk so fast that I almost missed the transition. My stomach flipped from the sight, but then he spoke again, and what had felt like it was filled with butterflies turned to rocks.

“I’d much rather them gossip about something that’s not happening than watch the young boys ogle you instead of paying attention.”

It wasn’t the words, but the way that he’d said them. Like they were silly, like the idea of us being together was so preposterous it could only be entertained by people he perceived to be children.

I was foolish, too.

“Don’t worry about them,” he said with a wave, “Just worry about making this Monday a little bit better.”

“O-okay. Thanks,” I whispered, turning and running from the room only to be reminded of the mess I’d made. But the pool of tawny liquid on the floor wasn’t the most disastrous thing anymore. That honor was reserved for the state of my heart, begrudgingly continuing to beat despite being broken.

Scooping up my bag that I’d abandoned before, I tried to allow myself to be happy about the little things. For instance, the fact that the shirt Spencer had handed me was probably the softest thing I’d ever felt in my life. It made sense, considering the sensory issues he always described.

Still, I waited until I was in the safety of a bathroom stall before I buried my face in the fabric. It smelled just like him, a mixture of freshly done laundry and vanilla. Much better than the cheap, burnt coffee that covered me. Funny enough, that sort of smelled like him, too.

By the time I slipped into his clothes, I had almost forgotten his joke entirely. I was too lost in the joy of sweater paws from his cardigan and fabric that felt like a hug. Or at least, what I’d imagined a hug from him would be like.

The energy it provided me was a better pick-me-up than any cup of coffee had ever been. I kept my squealing as quietly as I could, bouncing in place just like the nickname he’d chosen to let stick. But before I returned to him, I felt something. A small, noticeable weight in one of the cardigan pockets.

If I’d thought about it for longer than five seconds, if I’d reminded myself that they were his clothes and not mine, I would’ve let it be. I wouldn’t have pulled the little object from its safe hiding spot. It would have stayed locked away, leaving me none the wiser of its presence.

But I didn’t think about it, and then there I was, holding onto the sobriety token I should’ve seen coming.

Not that it was a bad thing; I already knew Spencer had a history with drugs. He’d mentioned it in passing in class and was deeply involved with a number of volunteer programs around the area. At one point, I’d even taken it upon myself to research his history.

That research, while I regretted it now, feeling that it violated his privacy some way or another, led me to a second conclusion. As my thumb ghosted over the embossed number five, I realized that Spencer had been sober since he was released from prison.

My heart swelled with pride and relief that felt shameful. I didn’t want the token to have such a profound effect on the image of him I’d already crafted in my mind. Lord knew I didn’t need any more reasons to idolize him. And, at the end of the day, I’d only discovered this information by happenstance.

Part of respect, I decided, meant ignoring the way that fate seemed to push us together. If Spencer ever wanted my opinion on his sobriety or strength, surely, he would just ask. So, I slipped the chip back into the pocket and made my way back to him without worry for what it meant.

While I had no worries, Spencer was another story. I’d barely even made it through the door when he saw me. All of the papers he’d been holding immediately fell from his hands the same way the coffee had fallen from mine.

“Oh no! My clumsiness was contagious!” I laughed, bolting over to help him only to find his face an unhealthy shade of red. He chuckled back but said nothing else as he scrambled to pick up the loose-leaf that had splayed itself all over the floor.

Once we were back on our feet and as collected as we could be considering the circumstances of the morning thus far, his eyes met mine again. His cheeks were still flushed, unable to focus on anything specific and choosing to traverse my body the same way his hands had on Halloween.

“Sorry,” he mumbled in a way that made me wonder if he knew I could hear him, “I was distracted by how unfair it is that you look better in my clothes than I do.”

It was my turn to be flustered, but Spencer didn’t let the moment drag on. He tore himself away from me in every sense of the word, marching past me and halfway exiting the room before he found the courage to look at me again.

“Are you ready to head to class?” he asked as if it were an option.

I suppose to him, it was. For a second I imagined what the future would hold for us if I’d said no. What would he have done if I begged him to stay with me, instead? What if we rebelled against expectation and remained locked away in his office until we grew tired of one another? What if we never did?

My mind filled with fantasies of Spencer’s hands freely feeling my skin the way his clothes could. I could hear soft, breathy sounds of desire shaped like my name. For all of my inexperience, he would still find me intoxicating. He would grow drunk on me the same way a child finds endless joy in sweets that really ought to make them sick.

Then again, maybe he had grown used to the sugar. Maybe he wanted something more mature, a bitterness like molasses that was only earned from years I hadn’t had yet.

Regardless, I couldn’t really get into any of that. Instead, I just flashed a very awkward thumbs up to the man fifteen years my elder when I droned, “Sure am, Professor man.”

As stupid as it felt to do something so juvenile, the smile he gave was worth it.

“Alright then, Bunny,” he answered with his own little peace sign, “Let’s hop along.”

——————————————————

It hadn’t even been a week since I saw her, scantily clad in the plush, socially acceptable equivalent of lingerie. It’d been even less time since I admitted my own weakness to her. I’d replayed the memories of her visceral responses to my touch enough times that I should be sick of it. But there was no tiring of her.

I considered deleting the photos she’d sent me, convinced that it was cruel to keep them when she’d only sent them while inebriated and undoubtedly exhausted beyond belief.

But when I woke up in the morning, my stomach still reeling from the knowledge of what I’d done, all that she’d sent was a curious collection of emotes and a very brief note.

“Oops!” she’d written, “Bad bunny?”

I put that phrase out of my mind immediately, unable to handle the way it incited the desire for destruction in my veins.

“I’m always glad to hear that you are safe.”

That was the end of the conversation, and I was grateful for that much. Even the few words we’d exchanged would haunt me until I saw her again. Of course, the torture ended there, but only for a few seconds before it was replaced with other images and words.

It’d been hours since I’d found her flailing about half-naked in the hall while uttering rushed curses that sounded too crude for her lips. It’d been hours since I felt the soft skin of her lower back and became lost in an entirely different set of fantasies.

It’d been even less time since I saw her standing at my door, pulling on the sleeves of my sweater and staring at me with nervous, shifty glances. Completely unaware of just how beautiful she was in her simplicity. How much more torturous it was to see her wearing my clothes than any lustful suffering that lingerie or nudity could elicit.

I thought that it would get better throughout the day, but it didn’t. It only got worse.

I’d stepped out of my office for barely half an hour, but I returned to find her curled up on the plush chair. Her shoes were slipped off, revealing colorful socks that clashed with every other neutral color she wore. It somehow made me want her even more.

I stayed stuck for a few seconds longer, watching her with bated breath and shameless admiration. She was so caught up in the papers on her lap that she didn’t even notice my presence until the door clicked shut. It was then that she turned to see me, allowing a smile to blossom across her face despite eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“What’s all of this?” she asked, gesturing to the collection of bags hanging from my wrists.  

“Did you know…” I started before my heart stopped at how she always leaned forward with excitement whenever I started a sentence that way, “that food is one of the best ways to solve a terrible Monday?”

“Which scientific study did you get that from?”

I paused again, debating telling her the many studies that would support such a theory, but then decided against it. Instead, I sought out her laughter and childlike joy that always brought out the best of her.

“Garfield,” I answered.

Sure enough, the office filled with the melodious sound of her happiness. I moved as quietly as I could, thinking back to when I was younger and thought of how powerful bottled laughter would be if I could capture it. Hers would surely right so many wrongs.

“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to, but I figure it’s the least I could do.”

She approached me to assist before I’d even made it to my desk, and although I thought her hands were far too soft to be bothered with something like this, I allowed her to help.

“You could do nothing, you know. It was my own fault.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

She laughed again, shier and shrinking into the sweater as she tried to find her place in such a domestic activity as sharing a meal with me in private. I thought of how it was a taste of my dreams.

Because as often as I did fantasize about her, undone, bare-skinned, and defenseless to my desires, I just as often envisioned her just like this. In fact, I found those fantasies more dangerous. They couldn’t be written off as mere lust. They were another, scarier thing.

“Well, lucky you I am an exhausted, broke grad student, so free food will always win me over,” she muttered, half-sarcastically but just sad enough to bother me.  

“Duly noted,” I said.

I hid away the promises I wanted to make. That if she were mine, she would want for nothing. That I would give her everything she needed to bloom. That I would prune away any neighboring flower that dared get in her way or block the sunlight. There would be no need to worry of predators or pollinators intruding, because she would belong to me and only me.

I would be her earth, her rain, and her sun. I would be surely and shamelessly selfish.

Her shoulders rose with a cheeky, excited little giggle once she had collected her food. I wanted nothing more than to let her enjoy it to her heart’s content… but there was a problem.

“Nuh-uh, no way,” I chuckled before she had a chance to return to the chair with her precarious paper plate, “Get in the other chair.”

Her face scrunched up, bouncing back and forth between the two seats in the room like she’d heard something so strange that it must have been a mistake.

“Wh— your chair?”

“I will not have you ruining another shirt today,” I explained. It caused the confusion to quickly shift to an embarrassed frustration within seconds. Just as she opened her mouth to protest my teasing, I continued with something I knew would tie her tongue until she could no longer argue.

“If you’re so worried about what they’ll say when you show up in my shirt, just think of how they’ll talk if they catch you wearing nothing.”

That stubborn little thing still tried. Her mouth floundered, strange sounds of protest starting but never finishing until she gave up. She sulked over to the seat with an odd amount of self-satisfaction. She settled into my space as comfortably as she always did. With an ease that was almost unsettling to my tired, tortured heart.

Swapping places with her for that little bit of time was a good idea. I hadn’t expected that it would bring me as much serenity as it did. My usually busy lips kept their focus on the food, opting to listen to her ramble about any and everything that came to mind.

It wasn’t until she was fifteen minutes into an explanation on her paper that I realized how little I’d tried to learn about her life outside of me. Whether it was self-preservation or narcissism, I’d never decided. But what I was certain of was that it had been a brutal form of self-sabotage.

Because as I sat there, watching her clumsily, excitedly swinging her fork and proving my point that it had been a good decision to give her the desk, I saw her for in a different light than before.

She was not just a beautiful, mysterious flower peeking through the concrete. She was the trembling giant, the clonal colony of thousands of quaking aspen trees. An extravagant network of roots that flowed far beyond the seed that started them.

This sprout might be new, but her soul was ancient and celestial, wise and immortal.

“Who knows?” she sighed, coming to a natural conclusion of a story I had almost missed while lost in daydreams and metaphors, “Maybe one day I’ll be a professor, too.”

“You’d be good at it.”

For once, it felt like she accepted the compliment without a fight. I considered it progress all the way up until she shot back a thinly veiled taunt.

“Thanks. Means a lot from someone who has 4 stars on rate my professor!”

“Don’t forget the chili pepper,” I jokingly returned.

“Not sure I’d get one of those.”

I knew that my disagreement wouldn’t amount to much in the grand scheme of things, so I opted for a slightly-self-centered flattery instead.

“Just show up in that outfit,” I said with a nod that barely hid my actual intention of focusing my eyes on the rest of her, “you’ll be golden.”

“You gonna let me borrow it in ten years?” she hummed.

It was a dangerous proposition, an implication that made the pitter-pattering in my chest unbearable. Rather than chasing her down the rabbit hole of fantasies, I just chuckled before I answered, “You know how to find me.”

Then it happened again. Her face slowly changed, growing from a cautious optimism to a yearning. A subtle hint of words left unsaid. And although she wet her lips and set down her fork, the words never came out. They stayed stalled in her throat, and there was no discernible way for me to drag them out of her without hurting the both of us.

When a loud knock resounded through the room, the thought ended altogether.

“Come in,” I grimly announced, recognizing the intrusive sound as the death rattle for whatever might have been said.

As the door opened, I realized the same time (y/n) did that we had forgotten that the rest of the outside world wasn’t familiar with our dynamic. They didn’t have the backstory of how she’d perched herself on my chair with her shoes off and wearing my clothes.

Torn between scrambling to take more socially acceptable positions and the knowledge that our hurry would make us look even more suspicious, we both opted to remain frozen in place like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming train.

When the door opened, however, I was somewhat relieved to see someone I found completely unthreatening. My closest colleague, a woman that should really terrify me all things considered, seemed mostly perplexed when she found a young girl in my seat.

She quickly turned to me, drawing out her words as she asked, “Oh. I’m sorry, am I... interrupting something?”

“No, what can I help you with, Candy?”

“I was hoping we could talk about my current paper proposal.”

She paused, and I took the moment to follow her glower to the flower still stationary behind my desk. (Y/n) stared back, seemingly frightened by the presence of the other Professor.  

“If you’re busy with... office hours…” Candy muttered before turning back to me, “we can always set up a meeting for a better time.”

Before I could address the possible tension or implication, the girl at my desk sprung to action, clearing off any sign of her presence as she spoke.

“You know, I actually need to get going.”

“Are you sure?”

She didn’t look at me when she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure your papers are more important.”

If I’d turned back to Candy, I might have seen the condescending scowl that was driving her away. If I’ve had any inclination or desire to look at Candy, I would have realized that (y/n) wasn’t trying to escape from her connection to me. She was just trying to get out of my way.

It didn’t make it any harder to watch her leave. I took solace in the fact that she held tighter to my cardigan, trusting me to keep her warm by proxy as she ventured back into the real world. The world where we couldn’t be in peace.

“Thanks for the advice, Professor,” she said before she left, “You were right. As usual.”

One last smile was shared, somber but sobering. A necessary break from the intimacy of the moment.

“See you in class.”

The office felt so much duller without her radiance, but my disappointment would have to wait. As much as I actually didn’t mind the world knowing how my heart hurt from her absence, I knew that it was best I didn’t let it impact her academic career.

“Sorry again for the intrusion,” my colleague said in a much happier voice.  

“It’s not a problem at all.”

She must have noticed the way it sounded like a lie, because her tone quickly shifted back to a slightly disgruntled confusion.

“I didn’t realize she was your student, too. What class is she in?”

It was juvenile, really, the way my heart fluttered so ridiculously at the mere mention of her existence. The excuse to discuss her again.

“Oh, did she not tell you?”

Candy just shook her head with a blatantly false smile.

“Unsurprisingly modest,” I laughed, making my way back over to my seat and running my fingers over the wooden armrests like it would be the same as touching her ghost, “She’s my TA.”

“Oh… I see.”

“She was the only one who would put up with me,” I offered with a chuckle. Self-deprecating humor was the only reliable personality trait I had. It was also, unfortunately, one that most women in my life despised and refused to let sit.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

It sounded less sweet coming from her. I wrote it off as a product of the differences in their species. While the hummingbird of a girl who’d just flittered away was used to only drinking the sweetest, purest nectar, the bird of prey who’d entered relied on the work of others to gather the sweetness before they were devoured.

That wasn’t to say she was cruel; hawks are as much a miracle of nature as hummingbirds. I simply related to one more than the other. I understood one while the other remained a mystery. And I loved mysteries more than myself.

“So, you wanted to talk about your paper?”

“Oh! Yes,” she chirped, passing the packet over to me now that I’d found my way back to what she probably deemed my rightful place. “The conference is coming up so much faster than I anticipated, and I would love to hear your opinions on my first draft.”

I’d already started to read the first page when she spoke again, uncharacteristically bashful and anxious, “Since we’ll be presenting together, I figured...”

“Yeah, no problem at all,” I interrupted, not wanting her to dwell nor expand on the thought of us doing anything together any more than necessary, “I can send you mine.”

It felt curt, blunt, and off putting when I said it, but she didn’t take it as such.

“Wonderful. You have such a unique voice when you’re writing. It’s very refreshing.”

Immediately, a memory appeared at the forefront of my mind and led to a laugh that I couldn’t contain. Candy seemed pleased at the sound, and I felt the need to explain.

“Thanks. (Y/n) likened it to Ray Bradbury at one point, although in different and less flattering words.”

I could hear her clear as day, quoting my words with an overdramatized effect before laughing, ‘Pack it up, Bradbury, you’ve got more science stuff to explain.’

Of course, we both found her laughter-ridden explanation of the ‘meme’ far funnier than the original joke. She was probably the only person in the world who never seemed bothered by explaining everything to me ad nauseam.

“She is... certainly a choice as a TA,” Candy strained upon scrutinizing the smile that had returned to my face for the first time since (y/n)’s departure, “Will she be joining us at the conference?”

But then the guilt returned, wiping the smile from my face and replacing happy memories with deviant thoughts and fears.

“Oh... you know, I haven’t asked her.”

“That’s perfectly alright! I think we’ll do just fine without her.”

“Right...” I whispered, glancing back down at the stack of papers in my hand before setting it in the tray designated for (y/n). “I’ll have her look at your paper just in case.”

A lull in the conversation stretched past the point of comfort for both of us, and I glanced up at the woman I actually felt guilty for ignoring in place of fantasies that would probably never come to be. She hadn’t even done anything to warrant my disregard. She was an attractive woman — as beautiful as she was brilliant, really — she had worked very hard to garner my trust and academic collaboration. At one point, I had considered her one of the few potential candidates for something more than a purely academic partner.

But there was something about the way she looked at the honeyed girl that made my hair stand on end. A defensiveness and instinct that couldn’t be ignored.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, that was all,” she said as she broke from what I presumed to be her own daydream, “I hope your semester keeps going well.”

“Thanks, I hope yours does, too.”

I meant it, despite the aforementioned concern. I wished her well in the semester for both selfless and selfish reasons. I wished her well because she deserved it, certainly. But the other reason, the larger one, was that I hoped she would remain distracted. I hoped that she didn’t notice the way I would slip away from her affections to chase those from a more interesting challenge. One that remained mysterious, with hair covered in pollen and lips sweet with ambrosia.

“I’ll talk to you soon, Dr. Reid.”

I failed to respond to her again before the door shut because my hands were already busy with rekindling contact with another.

“I have a proposition for you, Bunny.”

“Sounds ominous. I’m in.”  

The fact that the response came before I could even shut off the display was so characteristic of her that I had to laugh.

“You haven’t even heard it yet,” I observed, to which she once again immediately responded, “Your point being?”

“I’m afraid this is an obligation that does require some expansion before agreement.”

Her response was slower, then, and I could almost see her with a slight panic and overwhelming curiosity that grew stronger by the second.

“Ominous and vaguely unsettling,” she said.  

I considered drawing it out further, letting her imagination truly run wild with the possibilities. But then I realized that if she thought hard enough about it, she might reach the same place that had immediately come to my mind.

“Would you like to attend the upcoming conference with me?” I relented, almost stopping there but then frantically tagging on the conditions I knew would be most likely to cause hesitation. “You’d have your own room, of course. The department and I will help with funds.”

But, as it turned out, I didn’t need to be worried.

“A cheap weekend away from school where I get to be a nerd with you?” she sent with another set of small, smiling faces I was only just starting to understand, “Of course I’m going to say yes, Professor!”

“Perfect. I’ll arrange it.”

“I can’t wait!”

Although I felt the same, I forced myself to end contact again. I put my phone out of reach to prevent myself from spoiling any more of my fantasies than I already had. I didn’t need her to second-guess the possibilities of a weekend away together now that she’d already agreed to it.

The thought alone sparked guilt anew. Through the entire interaction, I’d infused each word with a charge that shouldn’t have been. Each line was far more provocative than it needed to be.

It was just an academic conference. Most people found them terribly dull, not to mention physically exhausting. It would not be a time away like most couples dreamed of because we were not a couple in any sense of the word.

Yet… I couldn’t help but feel that perhaps there weren’t as many differences as one might think. Because while yes, most people would be bored, I didn’t think Bunny would be. Clandestine meetings made between conference meetings sounded exactly like the kind of dreams we would share.

I believed it so strongly that my mind had already drafted several narratives that would suit her. I pictured her and I sharing company in public, unafraid of public displays of affection — innocent, childish kinds, of course — because we were miles away from those who might care.

That drunken, lust-inducing, half-lidded gaze from the week before would return. Except this time, I would taste the wine on her tongue, my hands sliding not over fluffy fabric, but the same skin that I’d felt for the first time that morning.

Behind our door, I would teach her so many things. Things that she would have begged me for. Things that others would see written on her skin in the shape of my fingers and mouth. Things that she would carry with a straighter back and dripping down her legs.

I didn’t just want to destroy her. I wanted to break her so that I could build her back with gold-laced lacquer. She would be my kintsugi creation full of sugar and honey, just imperfect enough that the sticky residue of her sweetness would slip through the cracks to coat everything she touched.

And then she would touch me, and I might finally feel like I deserved anything at all.

——————————————————

| Part Five |

[comfortbucky]

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”

[retrievablememories]

love thy neighbor | kun (m)

title: love thy neighbor pairing: kun x black reader genre: fluff, smut, neighbors to lovers request: “Hello again Rain! I hope you're doing well and I'm happy to see you're open for requests again. Your writing in general is a treat to look forward to. An idea for a fic I'd like to suggest is wayv kun/black oc where they're neighbors that secretly pine for another and do feel free get very nsfw lmao. TY!” word count: 5.7k warnings: alcohol use, protected sex, dirty talk, dry humping, riding a/n: i used a prompt from this list of ideas to help me create this fic.

i’m sorry, this fic could’ve theoretically been finished long ago but took me 3893 years because kun intimidates me (and i don’t know why) and that makes it hard to write for him l m f a o chile anyway...

--

Your neighbor might actually kill you one day—but only in the figurative sense.

Kun is too beautiful and kind for your sanity; he’s like one of those men out of a romantic novel who simply should not exist. In other words, the ideal guy. One who helps all the little old ladies in the building take their groceries up to their apartments, one who feeds all the stray cats that hang around the complex, one who helps new tenants move their things in without even being asked.

Your roommate Charlotte would probably be totally smitten over him just like you if she did not already have her own happy relationship with her girlfriend. But since she does, she has decided to spend her time instead teasing you about your crush on him and trying to persuade you into getting tangled up in a matchmaking mess.

“I’m sure he already has a girlfriend, I don’t know, trying to shoot my shot seems ridiculous,” you say to her, worrying the edge of your blanket in your hands. You toss and turn on the couch, flipping onto your stomach and sighing before shuffling onto your back again. “People like that can never stay single for long. Right? They get snapped up quick.”

“You’d know if you simply asked,” Charlotte points out. “Staring holes into his head won’t help you find out more about him.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, your fingers stumbling over the blanket as it momentarily slips from your hands. Still, the idea of asking him if he’s dating anyone, whether discreetly or more openly, makes you nervous. You’ve talked to Kun several times before, even hung out with him at those friendly get-togethers your apartment building always holds to get the residents mingling, but you’re still anxious around him. It makes you feel silly, like you’re back in high school; but you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions or how to form them into something coherent. “Easy to say all that when you already have the person you want, though.”

“Oh, girl. Love is not easy, but that’s why you have to fucking work for it. AKA, go for what—or who—the hell you want and stop pining over him like some lost Juliet on our couch. It’s better than watching you flop around like a dying fish.”

You stand up from the couch abruptly, leaving your blanket to the side and glaring at her. “You don’t get it, ugh.”

“I get it! But you refuse to let me help—”

“Yes, because if I did, you’d say something completely ridiculous and tell him I’m madly in love with him or something.” You head to the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror.

Charlotte throws her hands up in surrender. “Hey, maybe. But that wouldn’t be a lie.”

“Really? I don’t think—”

“I think so. The way you talk about this guy, it’s definitely sounding a little like love to me.”

Once you’re satisfied, you come back in the main room and grab your keys, wanting to end this conversation before Charlotte sets a world record for how many times she can make you feel embarrassed. “Whatever you say. I’m gonna go to the corner store, so...speak now if you need something or forever hold your peace.”

“You can’t run from it,” Charlotte sing-songs, going back to reading her magazine. “And no, I don’t need anything.”

Once you get out your front door, it’s just your luck when you see Kun’s door is also open. You are not dressed for running into him, of all people; your “corner store” clothes being just a T-shirt, leggings, and slides. You freeze in place and momentarily think about unlocking your door and bolting back inside, which you realize is utterly ridiculous. By then, it’s too late; he’s already coming out his door and closing it behind him. 

He perks up when he sees you outside, smiling at you with those deep dimples that make your insides melt. “Hey Y/N, good to see you.”

“Kun! Uh—great to see you too.”

“Are you going out somewhere?” he asks. Inwardly, he feels a bit silly for asking because you clearly are, keys in hand and everything.

“Yeah, just to the store to get a few things.” You wave your hand, and you almost have the urge to lean on your doorframe to appear more calm and collected than you are. Which could potentially end up looking sillier than you intended. “How about you?”

“Going to see a friend,” he answers, and he brushes his hand through his hair in a way that’s completely casual but somehow modelesque at the same time. This is unbelievable, you think to yourself. “We haven’t met up in a while, so…”

“Oh yeah, it’s always nice to go out with old friends,” you say, smiling at the thought of it. Kun nods his agreement, and then has an abrupt, wild idea to ask if you’d like to go out somewhere sometime. Too busy warring with himself over whether he should take the dive, he doesn’t notice you heading towards the stairs already. “I hope you two have a good time!”

“Oh—thanks. Hope you enjoy your trip.” He chuckles, following you down the steps to get to his car. Well, that moment has passed. Sure, he could probably still ask you now if he was bold enough about it, but it feels too awkward to randomly ask someone out in the middle of a stairwell.

You wave bye to him once you both get in the parking lot. He watches you walk to your car with a wistful smile on his face. He wants to say more to you, but the timing isn’t right and it’s best not to hold you up right now. Plus, Hendery’s probably already waiting for him.

It would’ve provided you with a lot of relief if you knew Kun was facing a similar dilemma to you. He’d never had much problem talking to women he liked in the past, but something about you made him feel clumsy and hesitant. But just like with your inability to move forward, there’s no way for you to know his feelings without him saying anything about it—which he has been hesitating over for the longest. 

Maybe he was also still cowering from the embarrassment of the time he’d tried to show you a magic trick that didn’t quite work out, but it was a convenient excuse. At least for him, anyway.

One day he’d get the courage to tell you how he felt, but he didn’t think today was that day.

–

Some strong shots and a few hours at the club was exactly what you needed to unravel your nerves after a long week. You and a few others from your work had decided to go out that Saturday night as a group effort to unwind from dealing with your overbearing boss. “Just a couple shots” eventually turned into more than that, though, but you weren’t complaining. As long as it gave you the opportunity to discard all your issues for a while, you didn’t mind losing yourself a little.

However, your night of fun quickly dissolves into frustration when you realize you’ve lost your keys and have no way to get back into your apartment. You’re not even sure where they might’ve disappeared—in the club, or in the rideshare back to your apartment?

Charlotte is out of the city for the week visiting her long-distance girlfriend, so there’s no way you’re getting back in your apartment tonight. The main office won’t be open at this hour, either; it’s the weekend, and nobody will be there regardless until Monday. And you’re definitely not drunk enough or desperate enough to try to bust the door down.

Though it pains you to do so, you knock on Kun’s door, your head throbbing and dizzy. You feel bad about this. He won’t even be awake at this hour and might not answer, but you don’t know what other options you have. You aren’t familiar enough with your other neighbors to ask this of them. Especially not the old lady living on the other side of you who has a perpetually judgmental aura towards everyone in the apartment building. The only person she seems marginally approving of is none other than the man himself—Qian Kun.

It takes a good minute or two, but you hear the latch unlock, and Kun is suddenly standing in front of you, a look of concern on his sleepy face. He is adorable like this, in his pajamas and his hair mussed and his eyes foggy with sleep. He’s so cute it makes you want to cry—and so you do. 

But your tears are mostly because you’re very tipsy and tired and currently locked out of your very comfortable apartment.

This awakens Kun immediately. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He gently pulls you into his apartment, his tone quiet but panicked as you put your face in your hands and cry. You just shake your head for a few moments, crying too much to say anything to him. When you don’t reply, he doesn't try to press you for answers; he just puts his arms around you, a bit carefully as if you’re made of some easily breakable material, and lets you wet his T-shirt with your tears.

Finally, when you’ve collected yourself some, you abruptly feel foolish for crying over something like this. He probably thinks someone’s died, and you’ve gotten him all worked up for practically nothing. “I-I’m locked out,” you sigh heavily, and he has enough politeness not to outwardly react to your alcohol breath with your close proximity. “And my roommate is gone…forever.”

His eyebrows lift. “Forever?”

“The whole week, Kun...but it feels like...f-forever.”

“Ah...I see. Is that why you were crying?”

You put your head back in your hands. “Just kill me.”

“Don’t feel bad about it,” Kun says, and there is a tiny lift to his mouth like he wants to smile at your dramatics. “It’s fine. You can stay here tonight.”

“Kun, thank you.” You’re still loosely embracing each other, and you squeeze your arms more tightly around him. Maybe it’s just a reason to rest your head on his chest again and hear his heart beating strong against your cheek, but you wouldn’t admit that. Wait, why is his heart beating so fast? “Thank youuu, I love you so much, this means the world to me.”

Kun’s mind catches on the words I love you so much, and he knows you’re just drunk and need to sleep it off and aren’t really thinking about what you’re saying, but he cannot help lingering there for a moment. He’s glad the front room is still dim from the single lamp he turned on, otherwise you might notice the flush growing on his cheeks. “I...it’s no problem. We should get you comfortable, then.”

As it turns out, get you comfortable means he lets you sleep in his bed while he takes the couch. In another context you’d protest, not wanting to kick him out of his own space, but you are simply too smashed to think about it. You’re seconds away from falling asleep where you stand now that the adrenaline of discovering you’re locked out has worn off. Kun has the idea to make you drink some ice cold water, though, which wakes you up enough to take a proper shower.

By the time you get out of the shower and are wearing his clothes—his clothes—you are feeling a little more sober. You also feel like you’re going to have another small meltdown over all this. “This” being: wearing Kun’s clothes and standing in his bedroom, which is decorated with all his interests and treasured belongings. There’s a small studio setup in one corner, which interests you, but you don’t investigate it any further.

Now you have another little problem, though; what are you gonna do about the pillows? You don’t have anything to cover your hair with, with all your scarves and bonnets in your own apartment. One night of sleeping on a cotton pillow wouldn’t kill you, but that doesn’t make it any less distasteful to think about.

Kun comes into the bedroom to check on you and sees you puzzling around, sitting on the bed and looking awkward. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh. It’s nothing really,” you rush out, unsure if you should tell him about a problem he likely won’t even understand. It must be at least 4:00 a.m. by now, meaning you both desperately need to get some sleep.

“You can tell me, I won’t bite.”

I wouldn’t mind if you did pops into your head, but you immediately try to ignore that thought and are silently grateful that you do not blush visibly.

“Uh, my hair.”

“Your hair?”

“Okay, I need to cover it at night so it won’t get all broken off or anything—sleeping on cotton does wonders for destroying moisture—but I don’t have anything here to use. I mean—it’s...not a huge deal though, I can deal with it for a night?” You’re rambling now. Kun just nods, taking in all this information like he’s listening to something very important and very interesting.

“So then, what would you do to stop that?”

“Wear a scarf, or a bonnet, or using a silk pillowcase works, too. But you probably don’t have any of that stuff, you don’t have to bother with it—”

“Well, let me see.” Kun disappears into his closet and you pause, wondering for a moment if he actually does have a bonnet or something in there. Which would probably be a little hilarious to you.

He comes back out with not a bonnet of a scarf or even a pillowcase, but one of his own shirts. It’s just the right material though, being a pretty purple silk.

“Oh—Kun.” At this point, there are several emotions all trying to come to the forefront, though you have no clue which one to settle on. “Your shirt? You really don’t have to. I could…”

“It’s just a shirt, Y/N. There are a lot more where that comes from...I don’t mind.” He chuckles.

You sigh bashfully but take the shirt from him. “Thank you, it’s really thoughtful of you.” You cover the pillow with his shirt, and it works perfectly.

“Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell me,” he says, lingering by the door.

“I will...thank you,” you say, your voice quiet as you give him a nervous smile. Only when he shuts the door and his footsteps fade away do you allow yourself to bunch the comforter in your fists and scream into it. Everything in here smells just like him, which is probably more than enough to fuel all of your Qian Kun-related daydreams for the next 8 months.

It doesn’t take long for you to drift off when you finally do lie down, and your mind is blissfully empty of anything throughout the night.

--

The next day takes a bit of settling into. You’re momentarily alarmed when you wake up faced with a strange room until you remember last night’s events and recall where you are. There is also the smell of food, good food, which is also sadly unfamiliar to you. Charlotte can’t cook to save either of your lives, so you know you’d never be waking up to the smell of a professional chef-approved breakfast if you were still in your apartment with her.

Walking out of Kun’s room, you see that he’s in the kitchen, halfway finished with cooking breakfast for the both of you. It’s more like brunch at this hour, but what does that matter.

You linger at the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to imagine that this is what things would be like if you were dating. Getting this view everyday? Life cannot be this unfair.

Maybe not too much, though, since you are standing in his kitchen.

“Oh, good morning,” he greets you, breaking your reverie. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. I slept great. Thanks again for, you know, the shirt, haha…”

He grins, and his dimples come out. “Sure thing. Go ahead and sit! Breakfast will be ready soon.”

It’s the best breakfast you’ve eaten since living with Charlotte; maybe some of the best food you’ve ever had. “I had no idea you could cook this well,” you say. “I mean. I guess I wouldn’t since I haven’t—you know, uh—eaten here before, but—it’s great.” It’s just your luck that your thoughts come out in this fumbling mini-rant, but Kun only laughs good-naturedly.

“Thank you, I’m truly glad you like it.”

You both continue eating breakfast while making light conversation. This just might be the longest conversation you’ve had with each other, and that knowledge seems surreal. You’re almost a little glad you lost your key. Almost.

“So...today is Sunday. And the leasing office still won’t be open until Monday.” Kun says this over the remnants of breakfast. He speaks in a measured tone, like he’s trying to ensure he says the right thing. Whatever that could possibly be. “And you told me your roommate won’t be back until Monday.”

To your credit, you hadn’t exactly accounted for this when you first came over to his place in your distressed state. That means another night spent in his apartment though, which becomes very obvious to you now. “Ah. Sorry, am I imposing?”

“What—no, I-I just wanted to make sure you knew you can stay here tonight, or—however long you need.”

Relief floods through you, and you briefly wonder why you even worried about it; as far as you know, he’s not the kind of person to just kick someone out. “Ohh, of course—that’s good to know. Thank you for all this!”

“You’re welcome.” You miss the smile he gives to your response as you’re busy drinking your juice, but it’s one filled with a certain affection.

--

It feels a bit awkward to just sit around in his apartment all day, with nothing to do and all your belongings still locked out of your reach in your own place, so Kun shows you the studio in the corner of his room. He’d talked about being into music before, but you’d never heard anything of his until now.

When he plays the keyboard for you, it’s to the tune of a beautiful self-composed song. You almost pinch yourself to remind yourself this isn’t a hallucination or a fever dream. A man this appealing really exists, and you’ve stayed the night in his apartment and eaten his breakfast. You give a small round of applause when he finishes.

“Wouldn’t it be cool if you became a famous singer or something? I’d come to all your concerts,” you say lightly, kicking your legs on the edge of his bed.

“All? Really, all?” He laughs.

“Yes, all. A voice and talent like that deserves all the attention.” You lean back on his bed, stretching your legs out. “But all your venues would probably be sold out. Hopefully you’d remember me from your lil’ ole apartment building. I’m sure you’d be living in a penthouse by then.”

Kun smiles bashfully at your compliments, waving his hands as if it’s too much. “Thank you. But I don’t think I could ever forget you.” His voice grows a bit softer. His expression is more genuine than you expect for a conversation that was so playful only seconds ago, and you find it hard to hold eye contact all of a sudden.

It is your turn to be bashful, and you shrug in an effort to seem natural. “Well, I’m flattered.” Despite your unaffected demeanor, you don’t think those words will leave your mind for a good while, even if you wonder about the meaning of them. 

--

Later that evening, Kun makes dinner and you watch TV together, flipping to whatever channels have dramas or movies playing.

You two eventually fall into another conversation when you can’t find anything good to watch—one that does not make you overly nervous for once. During a lull in the talking, that big question pops up into your mind, and you wince internally at how Charlotte would’ve already told you to make a move. You aren't sure how to do that without making him uncomfortable or seeming too sudden, but you decide to make an attempt.

You edge into it with, “So, um, your place looks pretty nice for one guy. It’s just you here, right?”

“Ah yeah, just me. Thanks, I do try my best.”

“Haha, I’m used to my guy friends all having super messy apartments until they get a girlfriend and she teaches them how to clean a stove for the first time…”

“Oh really? That’s a bit sad for them, isn’t it?” He chuckles. “I’m not dating anyone right now, so it’s all me.”

Just the information you were looking for. You try not to show your elation. “Why not?” you blurt out. Then you cringe because this might sound too invasive or even judgmental, but Kun only grins. “It’s just, it’s a little surprising. You’re such a generous person. You seem to care about everyone, even those poor stray kitties that stay outside the apartments all the time.”

He smiles timidly in response to receiving more of your compliments. “I guess it seems curious when you put it like that.” Just like when you’d drunkenly said I love you so much, there’s suddenly heat on the back of his neck that he hopes won’t turn into another blush that’ll expose him. “I don’t really know, I haven’t thought much about it; life’s weird like that.” He isn’t really sure how to answer that question in a way that won’t be too big of a hint that he’s interested in you, though he’s also not entirely sure why he’s still trying to hide it. Wouldn’t now be the perfect opportunity? When will you two have this much time together again? Still, you staying in his apartment for two days doesn’t mean you like him, and maybe he’s jumping the gun.

“That’s true. Guess that’s the same reason why I’ve been alone for a while now.” You shake your head.

“You?” Kun is equally surprised to know this about you.

You laugh incredulously. “Does that shock you or something?”

“I...well.” He rubs the back of his neck as he searches for the words. “I just thought...you’re very pretty, and you’re always really kind when we speak, so...”

“Oh?” Your face heats up at that.

“Yeah, I…think anyone would be lucky to be with you.”

“Oh.” Your body’s first instinct is to freeze with nervousness, but you know Charlotte would be kicking your ass in gear right now if she were somehow here. So, you decide to stop stressing about it and just do it. “Well...wouldn’t it be nice if we both had a way to fix our problems at the same time?”

Kun pauses for a moment before replying. “What do you suggest?” He knows what you are proposing—you can see in his eyes and his slight grin and his posture that he knows—but maybe he wants to hear you say it out loud.

“Hm, well…I don’t know, what do you think?” You lean a bit closer to him, raising your eyebrows and trying your best to look innocent and unassuming. His smile turns into something different with your increased proximity. Something a little more sly.

Mirroring your actions, he inches nearer to you until there’s little space left between. “Well, I think…” Kun tentatively closes the remaining gap between the two of you, the rest of his sentence left to linger as his soft lips envelop yours.

Maybe it’s corny to say it, but it definitely feels like one of those fairytale kisses with the fireworks going off and streamers popping; even though you’re sitting on his couch wearing his pajamas, some movie in the background you’ve long forgotten the plot of, empty dinner plates sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You aren’t sure how you end up in his lap—who made the first move? Was it his hand on your back or your hands on his shoulders? You straddle him on the couch, your arms slipping around his shoulders and his hands on your back but assuredly traveling farther down your body.

Kun’s hands come to rest on your thighs, pulling the fabric of his shorts up a few inches higher. “I never thought I’d see you wearing my clothes,” he says lowly, grinning against your mouth.

“I also never thought I’d be sitting in your lap like this, but maybe sometimes dreams do come true,” you say jokingly, your lips rubbing against his skin as you slowly kiss his jaw.

You can’t see his expression, but his eyebrows shoot up at that. “Dreams, huh? You think about me often?” His voice pitches lower when he asks this, aroused by the thought of you imagining anything quite so lewd about him. You’ve definitely incriminated yourself now and won’t be able to wiggle out of it without an answer.

“...Maybe.”

“What do you think about me?” Kun grips your hips, which quickly turns into him grabbing your ass—tentatively at first to test the waters, and then firmly enough to grind you against his hardening cock. Sensing him solid and warm underneath you sends a shockwave down your spine, and the sensation heightens when his voice caresses your ear, all low and tense with arousal. “It’s just the two of us here. No one else has to know.”

“I think about your...lips. How you might kiss me. Or what you might say to me. And...your hands.” You pause there, a quiet breath whispering past your lips. “You have really big hands, you know.”

“My hands…” Kun places one on your chest, spreading his fingers across and touching your collarbone. The heel of his palm glides on the top of your breast, and just that touch is enough to get you more worked up. “Hmm. Actually, I’ll admit I’m pretty good with my hands.” He smirks, and he’s possibly the finest thing you’ve ever seen. “What else, Y/N?”

“I thought about how you’d touch me.” His hand slides between your breasts now, down your sternum, and to your stomach. “Maybe I’d invite you into my apartment when Charlotte wasn’t there. We’d watch some stupid movie and pretend to be into it, but we’re really just thinking about each other. You’d eventually end up slipping your hand up my skirt...and making me cum all over your fingers.”

You aren’t sure how you’re saying all this to Kun right now, the dude you have a major crush on, without bursting into flames.

His shaft rubbing against your clit even through your layers of clothes makes you sigh dreamily, pressing your forehead to his and gripping at his shoulders and biceps. His bangs are soft against your forehead, and your breath stutters when he moves to kiss the side of your neck. He has to know how hard your heart is beating right now.

“And then what?” His voice is barely a whisper, then.

“And then you’d fuck me, of course.” There’s a slight laugh in your voice at the ticklish feeling of his lips kissing your skin.

“And then I’d fuck you...hm,” he echoes. “Sure, I can do that.”

The promise of it entices you, and more heat pools between your legs, amplified by the fabric rubbing against your sensitive parts. His hand that’s still on your stomach travels under your shirt then, and your hips falter in your rhythm against him when his fingers brush across your nipple. He brings his lips to your other breast, lapping his tongue against your nipple over the fabric.

You soon come like this, his shaft grinding against your clit and his clothes rubbing against your skin, his hands on your ass and his lips traveling across your breasts. The orgasm is sudden and surprises you, but it’s good, and you convulse as the waves of pleasure course through you. You weaken and slump against him, with him still teasing your breasts with his mouth and hands. Pushing your face into his hair, you moan into the black strands until the quivering stops.

You’re breathless when you speak again. “You haven’t come yet.”

“I’d rather do that when I’m inside you,” he replies. You giggle quietly.

“...What are you waiting for, then?”

“Hold on.” Kun carefully maneuvers you off his lap, and you already want to complain at the lack of his touch. “I have to get a condom.”

“Hurry, or you’ll miss all the fun,” you say as you pull your shirt off with your back to him. You look back over your shoulder at him and grin mischievously.

“You’re such a tease…”

Kun goes into his room to fetch a condom, and when he returns he’s already pulling his shirt off, leaving it on the floor somewhere. You’re fully naked now, your legs pulled up to your chest and your chin resting on your knees as you sit on the couch. Kun’s eyes drop between your legs, your inner thighs still glistening from your previous orgasm, and he swipes his tongue across his lips at the sight of you, wet and ready for him.

Likewise, your eyes drop to the dark trail of hair leading into his pants and his bulge just below it, the way his sweatpants cling to his length, and your pussy throbs with the desire to be filled.

“Please, hurry.”

Kun doesn’t waste any time in getting the rest of his clothes off, shoving his pants and underwear done in one swift move and rolling the condom over his shaft. He climbs onto the couch, grabbing your legs and guiding them around his waist, and you giggle at his eager but gentle touch as you recline on the couch pillows behind you.

He grabs his dick and lines it up with you, then pushes it in slowly at first. The stretch makes your toes curl, but it is a good kind of stretch, the kind that fills you to the brim. Like the missing element you needed.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice husky from the pleasure.

“Fuck, please,” is your answer as you shift your hips and try to get him all the way inside quicker. Noticing your urgency, he slides the rest of the way in until your hips are flush against each other and starts thrusting into you. His length dragging across your walls feels much better than you could’ve imagined on any given night, and you clasp your legs tighter around him to get ever closer.

After a point, he pushes your legs up with his hands behind your knees so he can get a deeper angle, and you both moan at the difference in sensation and how much tighter you get around him.

There is no ignoring the messy wet noises of your bodies colliding due to the slickness of your previous orgasm and the new wetness he’s continually fucking out of you. Each thrust reaches deep inside you, deep enough to make you nearly sob, your hands fumbling over your breasts and your clit all the while.

“Kun, god yes please,” you whimper, rocking your hips into the rhythm of his own. You fucking him back makes him groan deeply, his bangs hanging off his forehead as he dips his head to watch himself slide in and out of you. You could not control the urge or the motion of your body even if you wanted to; you want all of him, as close as he can get.

“I don’t want this to end,” he moans, and he pulls out without a warning. You gasp at the sudden emptiness, and your discontent comes out in a full whine. You’d be more embarrassed about it if you weren’t currently consumed with desire, but you presently do not care.

Kun sits back on the couch and pulls you on top of him again. “Ride me,” he says. So you grasp the base of his cock, him grunting as you do, and you press the tip against your entrance before pushing it in. He watches himself slip inside of you while fully enraptured, one hand tight on your hip.

Once you are full with him again, you experimentally grind against him to see how it’ll feel in this new position, and your arms tremble as his pelvis stimulates your clit.

“Go ahead,” he whispers, grasping the nape of your neck and kissing you hard once more, “fuck yourself on me.”

So you keep grinding your clit on him like that, your limbs shaking from the stimulation and your walls fluttering around his cock. You can barely catch a complete breath from him kissing you hard enough to make your lips swell, and your head is so fogged with lust that all you can concentrate on is getting yourself off just like he told you to do.

“Kun…” You roll your head onto his shoulder, pressing your forehead into his skin, your body tiring as you get closer to reaching that high. You’re so close to coming, but you’re not sure if you have enough strength left to get there on your own. Kun notices the state you’re in and grasps your hips to pull them into his, effortlessly sliding himself into you while making sure your clit gets stimulated at the same time.

The new friction of his dick rubbing against your g-spot in this position is enough to have you finally coming and crying out against his neck.

You continue babbling nonsense against his neck as he keeps fucking you, searching for his own end. His hands are hot on your body as he moves you up and down his length.

His climax comes soon after yours, his dick pulsing and his pace slowing. Your back arches at the sensation of him throbbing inside you and releasing his cum into the condom. The way he groans in your ear has your stomach clenching.

For a few minutes after, you both sit quietly and do nothing but cling to one another as you come down from the pleasure.

“So, does this mean we’re together now…?” Kun asks hopefully, running his hands over your back as you lie against him.

You smile against his skin. “Obviously. But if you still want to convince me, we can go a couple more rounds…”

[beom1e]

SOUL WATCH

everybody had the soul watch app, because everybody was curious to meet their soulmate. it was an app that told you when or how and gave you hints, but never who. and due to all the pressure, you downloaded the app too... just to find out you didn’t even have a soulmate after all.

PAIRING yang jungwon x gn! reader

THEMES soulmates au, highschool au, fluff, humour

matching jewellery was a trend among soulmates when it came to being a highschool student. those that had found theirs wanted to show it off, basically shoving it into the faces of those that were still searching. walking down the corridors was a constant reminder that you didn’t have a soulmate for yourself, as matched couples would walk hand-in-hand with shiny bracelets or be seen wearing those missing piece style necklaces.

mondays. after freeing yourself from the couple-filled hallways, you sat down at your desk and placed your books onto the table with a huff. trying to block out your classmate bragging about meeting their soulmate over the weekend, you noisily checked around in your bag for your pencil case.

then came the clicking of your teacher’s heels as she entered the classroom, and there was a rush of students finding their seats. the squeaking of chair legs and quiet chatter only made you more annoyed at the world. to say discovering you were soulmate-less a few weeks prior had put you in a permanent bad mood would be an understatement.

but everything lit up as soon as yang jungwon appeared in the doorway. he apologised for being late, cheeks flushed and hair windswept. heat rose to your own cheeks at the sight of his sorry smile.

much to your dismay, he was a few seats to the back and to the right of you. he disappeared from your sight, making you slump sadly in your seat.

‘today is international soulmate day,’ your teacher smiled, setting her powerpoint up behind her. ‘as you all may know. there are many types of soulmate links out there, but i want to know about yours. so research and write about it — its origin, its rarity — and hand it in at the end of class.’

not sure what to do, you raised your hand. ‘what if you don’t have a soulmate?’ at the sound of your voice, jungwon looked up from his notebook. he didn’t have a soulmate either.

‘everybody has a soulmate, y/n,’ she reminded you. ‘maybe you entered your details into soul watch incorrectly.’

‘i don’t have a soulmate either,’ jungwon spoke up. you turned in your seat. ‘so what do we do instead?’

‘this is the first time i’m hearing of people being soulmate-less,’ she chuckled awkwardly, slightly panicked. ‘well, you’re both part of the student board aren’t you? just head down to the main hall and help the others set up for the soulmate dance.’

the soulmate dance. just the thought of it made you roll your eyes. you’d never attended, because you didn’t show interest in finding out until those few weeks ago, but you knew how cheesy it was. it was like every other kind of dance, totally cliché and super boring. except, you got to bring your soulmate.

you packed up your things as quickly as possible. as horrible it would be having to decorate for a stupid highschool dance that you wouldn’t even attend, at least jungwon would be at your side. and he must’ve understood your suffering, especially during international soulmate week on international soulmate day that just happened to fall on a monday.

you slung your bag onto your shoulder and followed jungwon out of the door. he walked slightly ahead of you, holding open each door for you which you quietly thanked him for.

when you made it to the main hall, the bright pink colour palette made your eyes burn. ‘this is going to be a long week,’ jungwon sighed, dropping his bag and leaving you at the door. mentally agreeing, you placed your own bag down beside his.

you sort of felt bad for jungwon. it was depressing to know that you weren’t ‘destined’ for anyone, and that you’d have to find someone the old way. he seemed even less of a fan of soulmate week than you were, but he did seem really down about not having a soulmate of his own.

it was wednesday morning and you’d missed your bus. annoyed with yourself, you had to run to the nearest bus stop in hopes another bus would arrive soon. that was where you saw jungwon and his friends, all of them being upperclassmen.

trying not to be seen, you awkwardly leaned against the outside of the shelter and looked off to the side. ‘it’s not like i like them,’ jungwon argued, which earned a few laughs from the boys. ‘why would i ask them to the soulmate dance if we’re not soulmates?’

‘because you don’t want to spend saturday studying alone in your room?’ sunoo teased, ‘if they’re not matched, then you can ask them. no big deal.’

the bus pulled up in front of them. you waited for them to get on before following, avoiding eye contact and taking a seat at the back. ‘good morning, y/n,’ jake turned around to face you. ‘i didn’t know you take this bus.’

‘i don’t,’ you awkwardly replied. ‘i was late and missed my own bus.’

‘are you going to the dance on saturday?’ sunoo also joined in, smiling brightly at you.

‘oh, uh,’ you nervously fiddled with the straps of your bag. ‘no, i don’t have a soulmate.’

‘well, we were just telling little wonie here that you don’t need a soulmate to go,’ jay patted jungwon’s head, making the younger boy complain about him messing up his hair. ‘you could come with us.’

‘thank you...’ shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you looked between all of the boys who were staring eagerly at you. ‘for the offer... but i don’t want to go. it means a lot, i just don’t do school dances.’

the bus conversation was probably the most awkward thing that happened to you that day. or during lunch time, when you took a seat on a bench facing the sports field. there was jungwon once again, playing around with the same friends. you watched as jake gave up on running around and collapsed to the floor, with everyone mirroring his actions seconds later.

you’d always had a crush on jungwon. he was always so sweet and polite, with the perfect balance between humour and seriousness. you saw him as someone you could easily rely on and trust, despite never being close to him. his cheeks always had this natural blush and his laugh was addictive, and he looked so serious whenever he was concentrating. you felt your heart racing whenever he was around, but you never had the courage to confess to him.

as you got lost in your thoughts, you made eye contact with him across the field. panicked, you began packing your things away and into your bag. then you left, trying not to move too quickly so that it didn’t look suspicious.

after classes, you were called into the main hall once again. knowing today you’d have to be painting, you grabbed your change of clothes from your locker and headed into the changing rooms. coming back into the hall, you were met with jake and sunghoon covering each other in the baby pink paint.

you slipped past them and looked around for something to do. and then someone tapped on your shoulder. it was sunoo, who asked if you could help him with painting the banner. jungwon passed by you, sending you a soft smile before hurrying off towards jay. how did he seem to be everywhere?

on friday afternoon, as you were exhausted from all the decorating you’d been doing, you were so glad to be able to go home and enjoy your weekend. the whole week had been a complete disaster, and you now had a strong dislike towards the colour pink. but much to your dismay, the head of the student board asked you to attend the soulmate dance in order to keep an eye on the students. why he chose you specifically, you had no idea.

so on saturday morning, you tried your best to drag yourself out of bed. though you really didn’t want to dress up for a highschool dance, there was an outfit you had in mind. things weren’t going to change, you weren’t going to randomly get a soulmate, but you stupidly had hope things could change.

you spent most of the day considering backing out, but gave in because you didn’t want to disappoint your classmate. you arrived at the main hall an hour and a half before the event, ready to set things up.

a few students were around, moving tables to either side of the hall. a large red carpet was being rolled through the centre of the room, leading out onto the school gardens. you turned around at the sound of your name, bumping into the source. they reached for your hand, preventing you from toppling over.

a shock of electricity shot through your arm, forcing you to snatch your hand back. ‘i’m so sorry,’ the voice spoke, and much to your dismay, it was jungwon.

you felt your heart racing again, heat rising to your cheeks in an instant. ‘it’s ok,’ you reassured him. ‘it was my fault, so i’m the one that’s sorry.’

‘well,’ he smiled. ‘i guess i’ll see you around.’

honestly, you felt like an idiot. he heard loud and clear just a few days ago that you didn’t want to go to the soulmate dance, but here you were. maybe he would realise you were being forced into it, but if he didn’t, then that would be humiliating.

you shook your head to clear yourself of all the thoughts. ‘y/n,’ turning on the spot, you were met with the sight of jay coming towards you. ‘you’re looking lost. i thought you weren’t coming.’

‘change of plan,’ you simply replied. ‘i was asked to help set up some things.’

‘well, i need help carrying some things in from the truck outside,’ he offered. ‘if you’d like to help.’ nodding, you followed behind him at a distance.

the sky was clear — not a single cloud in sight — and the sun was shining brightly. the back doors of the truck were open, workers from the catering company lowering large bottles of drinks onto the ground. jay gestured towards the cluster of fruit juice bottles before grabbing one for himself.

they were heavy, but you managed. walking at jay’s side, you couldn’t think of a conversation starter to make it all a little less awkward. but thankfully, or maybe not, he spoke up first. ‘you do know that jungwon has a crush on you, right?’

the bottle fell from your grip. panicked, you reached forward to catch it again. clearly the universe was on your side in that moment, because it didn’t split.

‘uh, no,’ you forced out a laugh, feeling your entire body heat up. ‘i did not know that.’

‘he denies it,’ jay shrugged, helping you lift the heavy bottle back up from the ground. ‘but we all see the way he looks at you. after he found out you were soulmate-less too, he wanted to ask you to the dance tonight. but when you said you weren’t going, he gave up on that idea.’

what were you supposed to say to that? as you placed the bottles beside the snack table, jay pushed them under it. turning around to see jungwon on the other side of the hall, you felt yourself swallowing your words before leaving to the outside again.

but avoiding jungwon wasn’t as easy as you had hoped. he seemed to be in your line of sight at all times and in all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were avoiding him. after all, if what jay said was true, then the feelings were mutual. still, you couldn’t shift your mind away from the shock you had felt at his touch. you thought maybe you were going crazy and had imagined it, until your phone buzzed with a notification.

leaving jay to bring in the rest of the drinks, you leaned against the exterior wall and pulled out your phone. a notification from soul watch lit up your phone, 0 days until you meet your soulmate. eyes wide, you looked around the area, hoping to see someone checking their phone in that same moment. was that even possible?

you weren’t sure what to do. search for your soulmate? or would they just come naturally to you? did this mean jay was your soulmate? it was a possibility, considering you were with him when the notification came through.

‘you coming inside?’ speak of the devil. you quickly hid you phone, putting on a fake smile and nodding. ‘people will start arriving soon.’

as soon as the hall began to fill up with people, you wished you had never came back inside. you really needed some time and space to think everything through. there was that electricity when jungwon had helped you up, but then you should’ve gotten the notification in that moment, right?

you grabbed your phone from your bag, going out into an empty corridor. sliding down the wall beside the door and pulling up the soul watch app, you searched your profile for details. but all the information it had was about your soulmate link, which happened to be a countdown. and now that the countdown was over, there were no more hints?

you were in complete disbelief, but the soulmate dance wasn’t the place to be researching this.

‘i guess you got it too,’ you looked up to see jungwon. ‘you’ve been avoiding me all day, so you must’ve.’

‘i have not been avoiding you,’ but the redness of your cheeks suggested otherwise. ‘and got what? i don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘a sudden notification that you’ve possibly met your soulmate...?’ he sat down beside you.

‘well actually,’ you could’ve laughed at how stupid you were about to sound. ‘i was avoiding you because of what jay said earlier. and i thought there was no way you could be my soulmate otherwise i would’ve received the notification after we bumped into each other.’

‘who else could possibly be your soulmate?’

‘what’s that supposed to mean?’ you turned your head to make eye contact. he quickly looked away and down at the floor, wishing he hadn’t been so bold with his last statement. jungwon was never this forward with people he wasn’t yet close to.

‘i know jay told you that i like you,’ he admitted. ‘and i’ve always known that you like me back. i just never thought to bring it up because i didn’t have a soulmate, and i thought you would have one.’

‘but you have a soulmate now,’ you reminded him, a smile lighting up your features. ‘or... however that works. do you think it has to do with us touching for the first time back then?’

‘you felt that too?!’ his eyes widened as he stared back at you. ‘i thought i was going crazy.’

‘do you want to go back inside?’ you gestured to the door into the main hall. jungwon shook his head, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

‘we could...’ he trailed off, looking behind himself at the exit. ‘or we could ditch this snooze fest and do something fun instead... like go to an arcade?’

‘sounds like a plan,’ you took his hand, letting him pull you up from the ground. he checked if the coast was clear before running towards the exit, the sound of your laughter filling the empty corridor.

[sickficsies-and-whumpsies]

I wonder if you don't mind to write sick Suna where he was feeling unwell since the night before but go to school and practice anyway and ends up passing out when they're go for running or something. Thank you!

This took me way too long, I’m so sorry. Hope you enjoy! CW in tags

一

He sits at the dinner table, poking at his food unenthusiastically as his sister rambles about something he’s not bothering to listen to. It’s rather unusual, actually, but his parents are too involved with what she’s saying to notice their son’s pallor.

“Rin, don’t play with your food, it’s gross.” his mom says, scolding him, and he doesn’t even have the strength to reply. Instead, Rintarō nods and takes a few shy bites, silent as the conversation goes on. 

After a while he gets up, setting his plate and glass in the dishwasher and thanking his parents for the food, before he heads to his bedroom. His body feels heavy, legs shaky under him, stomach twisting uncomfortably一 he knows he should have just skipped dinner, he doesn’t know why he hasn’t done that instead.

The thought of sleep is tempting, he’d love nothing more now, but he’s got social studies homework due tomorrow and he can’t turn it in late, not again. It’s been a couple of weeks since Rintarō has actually had a free day, or at least enough time to sit and do his homework before dinner. Between practice, insomnia, assignments, chores and having to care for his sister, since their parents have been assigned shifts that overlap and prevent any of them to care for the 8 year-old, the young middle blocker hasn’t had any time to rest properly. It’s exhausting, but it’s his only option.

So he sits at his desk, curved on his textbook as he writes in shaky characters, squinting at the paper before him. His vision’s fuzzy, head heavy and clouded, but it’s barely 8PM, he still has enough time before it’s officially too late for bed. His sister comes and asks him help with some homework一 Rintarō doesn’t have the heart to tell her to go ask their parents, he knows they’re probably far more tired than him一 so he spends a good hour and a half helping his little sister with her Japanese homework. 

By the time he’s done with that, he’s shaking with exhaustion. It’s a scary feeling, panic-inducing, almost, but it’s a familiar one, sadly. His phone buzzes in his pocket, and Rintarō jolts on his chair, almost losing his balance. The Inarizaki VBC group chat is blowing up with messages, but he scrolls unenthusiastically, not really focusing on the most recent fight between the Miya’s. The boy sends a couple of texts to prove that he’s paying attention when the captain starts to talk about tomorrow’s training, but he’s quick to set his phone down and pick up his pen again. 

It’s three pages of open-ended questions and a couple of pages to learn, but if he puts his mind to it, Rintarō’s sure he can finish by 1AM and finally get a good night of sleep. So he adjusts the desk lamp and straightens his back, eyes on the paper.

He gets through half a question before he falls asleep.

一

Rintarō wakes up to the sound of someone screaming. He barely has enough time to grasp his surroundings before his sister’s face comes into view, screaming and yelling at him because he’s late to help her get ready for school and actually take her there一 her peers go to school alone, but the Suna’s don’t trust their youngest daughter with that yet. And only at that moment he realises that it’s past seven in the morning. 

He rapidly flings himself to the kitchen to make her breakfast and lunch while he tells her to go wash and pack her own bag, ignoring how his own stomach growling, head swimming with hunger and tiredness. 

Rintarō is quick to boil some water and cook some rice, making his sister some tea and eggs for breakfast, while he packs her a bentō with rice, heated leftover broccoli, carrots and octopus sausages. He adds an onigiri, a milkbox and 500¥ to her tiny bag before he yells at her to get downstairs.

The boy barely has enough time to pack his own bags, throw his creased uniform on and wash his face before he heads out, practically dragging his sister with him, apologising profusely while she bites his head off for not hearing his alarm. 

一

“This is the third time in a week, Suna. I give you homework for a reason.”

“I’m sorry, sensei. It won’t happen again.”

The man sighs, taking his glasses off as he stares at the boy standing, the whole class looking at the student. He’s far too exhausted and hungry to decipher their expressions and murmured words.

“Stay behind after class, I need to speak with you.”

“Yes, sensei.”

The rest of the lesson goes by without Rintarō paying any attention to a single word that’s being said, nor to the curious looks casted in his direction. 

一

“This isn’t like you, Suna,” the professor hums, staring at the boy sitting in front of him, “coming to school looking absolutely dishevelled, not doing your homework… Maybe you should consider dropping out of the Volleyball Club, since it’s obviously taking a toll on your health and, consequently, on the quality of your education.” he pauses, waiting for a reaction that doesn’t come. 

Another sigh. “You’re a brilliant student, or rather, you used to be, but your grades are getting lower by the week. I’m sure that if you focused more on school and less on sports, you’d have an amazing academic career. You’d have no trouble accessing top-tier universities, all things considered.”

The boy opens his mouth to speak, but closes it immediately after. He’s not sure of what he should say. Rintarō knows that his current condition has nothing to do with his afterschool activity, but he doesn’t feel like explaining it to a man who knows little to nothing about him. 

“I’ll talk about it with my parents.” he lies, getting up from his chair and bowing slightly, “I’m sorry for causing you trouble, sensei. I’ll turn my missing assignments in as soon as possible.”

He leaves, not even bothering to hurry for lunch, and uses those last twenty minutes of lunch break to try and get some work done. Since he doesn’t have anything to put under his teeth nor money to buy it, he has to settle for tap water.

The remainder of today’s classes go by uneventfully.

一

Evening practice is gruelling. 

Rintarō can barely see, blinded by exhaustion, hunger, and the bright lights in the gym. He’s somehow managed to stay upright during the nine laps, far behind everyone else, only one more lap to go一 the boy doesn’t complain, he’s aware it would be the same as crying wolf, considering that everyone on the team knows how reluctant he is to warm up properly, especially since it includes repetitive, draining exercises. 

Ojiro tries to engage with him, chatting about something that was being discussed in the groupchat yesterday, but he barely hums and nods as Ojiro rants, with the obvious intent to make Rintarō feel less excluded, less alone.

“I mean, how did you miss that? Tsumu wouldn’t shut up, and you know how he gets when Samu mentions he won’t be playing volleyball after high school, right? I swear, he sent something like a hundred texts in the span of, like, four minutes. Unbelievable, right?” Ojiro says, elbowing his teammate delicately.

He barely hums in responde.

While he may not be aware of it, no, while he isn’t aware of it, everyone can tell just how bad the middle blocker looks right now. Rintarō’s back is far more arched than normal, which is worrying per se. His face looks gaunt, skin ashen and damp. A faint, dark red glow covers his cheeks and ears, and every time he moves to put one foot down in front of the other, it seems like his knees will buckle under his weight. He’s sweaty and visibly fanned, chest heaving uncomfortably as he tries to clear the dark spots in his vision with deep breaths.

But again, he’s always looked pale, and they’ve been practising for a while now, so it’s quite hard to tell if there’s something that’s actually wrong with their Suna or not. Maybe he’s not just as talkative today一 he rarely is, unless gossip is involved一 so Ojiro doesn’t insist and keeps running, leaving his teammate slightly behind, not on purpose either. It’s just hard to run any slower than that.

And that’s when it happens.

Rintarō isn’t really sure how or when. All he knows is that one moment he’s jumping in place, trying to warm up his knees’ joints and muscles, and the other he’s in mid-air, barely thirty centimetres from the ground, all sense of direction lost. The boy doesn’t even have enough time to panic, mind hazy, ears shrilling, heart racing. 

He doesn’t feel himself hitting the floor.

一

There’s a loud, insistent, piercing noise in his ears. He doesn’t seem to be able to get rid of it, he doesn’t know where it’s coming from either. He opens his eyes, only to be welcomed by absolute darkness. He gasps, but doesn’t hear himself doing so, which only contributes to making him panic more. 

Something pushes him back down一 consequently making him realise that he’s laying on his back on some kind of hard surface一 and Rintarō simultaneously realises that there’s something keeping his legs up, gripping at his numb ankles. He tries to kick the presence off, but he’s too weak, too dazed to succeed.

The boy groans, automatically raising his hands to his face.

Slowly, some light finally starts to filter through his vision along with morphing silhouettes that, however, gradually start to look like something more tangible, more real. He squeezes his eyes shut immediately.

“Suna!?”

“Give him some space!”

“I’ll go get his water bottle from the benches一”

“He doesn’t have it today, didn’t see him put it there.” 

“I’ll warn the nurse!”

“She’s not here, it’s late.”

“His parents then?”

“I’ll go check if their contacts are in the register!”

“Let me open the windows, maybe some fresh air will help.”

There’s multiple pairs of footsteps getting farther, the linoleum floor under him bouncing slightly at the people’s movements.

The voices are familiar, but associating voices to people sounds way too hard right now. He groans. He hears something shuffling beside him, and soon a hand starts to tap his cheek lightly, but at a steady rhythm. He opens one eye, not past a slit.

“Suna, are you back with us?” the captain asks. He elicits no response, so he turns to say something, but it’s barely a whisper that the middle blocker can’t decipher. 

“Uhm, Hitoshi just texted me, said Sunarin’s parents won’t be in town until Monday, and they took their daughter with them. Said he already knows.” Atsumu explains, glancing at his phone.

When Rintarō mumbles something unintelligible, but that seems to be enough to satisfy the people in the room. 

“Can you talk?” Ojiro chimes in, crouching on his other side.

A nod. “M’kay.”

He tries to sit up, but once again he’s pushed down. Besides, now that he recalls it, his legs are still up in the air, and a quick glance confirms that that’s definitely Osamu who’s holding his ankles now.

“Wh’ happ’nd…?” he slurs, blinking sheepishly as he slowly, painfully tries to regain full consciousness. He’s still half asleep, dazed, his thoughts incoherent and loud.

“You’re warm, probably running a fever,” Kita says, collected as ever, “although, I’m not sure this is the reason why you passed out, Suna.”

“He’s been looking like death warmed over since yesterday’s afternoon classes.” Osamu chimes in, eyebrows scrunched up in worry, “I wasn’t here this morning, but I’ve heard some classmates gossipping about him looking like crap and forgetting to get his homework done, or something…”

Kita nods. Atsumu then crouches beside Ojiro, eyeing Rintarō worriedly. “Have you been sleeping enough, Sunarin?”

A moment passes. “Mhm…”

“That really doesn’t sound convincing, dude.” “What about eating? Are you eating?” Osamu asks from above. “Ren said you don’t even have a water bottle with you today. Did you have lunch today? Or a big breakfast, at least?”

“Didn’t have time to make anythin’... Didn’t have breakfast… Forgot money…” Rintarō says, words coming out slow, slurred, heavy with disorientation. “Had t’make food fo’ my sister… T’was late…”

“So you didn’t have breakfast nor lunch today?” Kita hums, pensive, “That’s really dangerous for your health.”

“Why didn’t you tell us before practice? We would’ve lent you some money, man! Besides, now that I think about it, I’m something like 1500¥ in debt with you.” 

Atsumu exclaims, visibly distraught.

“And 850¥ with me.” Ojiro murmurs.

“And 1000¥ with me, too.” Kita nods.

“With me, as well.” 

“Shut up, Samu, I don’t owe you shit!”

“I saw you rummaging through my wallet yesterday, pig!”

“Wha一 you lying bastard! Do you know how low of you it is to accuse me of stealing your money?”

“Well, I know what I saw and一”

Kita clears his throat, and that’s enough to quiet down the twins instantly. Rintarō’s grateful for that, his head already hurts as it is. 

“I’ll make a run for the vending machines, don’t move!” Atsumu yells, already moving and disappearing outside the gym.

The captain spares him one last glance before he takes off his jersey and folds it carefully, “Luckily, you didn’t hit your head when you fell.” he says, gently lifting his teammate’s head and putting the makeshift pillow under it. “The floor can’t be too comfortable, hm?”

Rintarō smiles, weak. “Thanks, capt’n…”

Ojiro places his jacket on his torso instead, “To keep you warm.”

Another smile. Only then, Osamu lowers the boy’s legs, letting him be fully horizontal at last. He stays like that for barely a minute, because as soon as the other twin enters the gym, Ojiro’s quick to gently guide Rintarō in a sitting position, making sure that the jacket won’t fall off of him, keeping him upright.

“Okay, I got you water, strawberry milk, and two different protein bars. It should be enough to get you back on your feet until you get back home and have a proper meal.” Atsumu smiles, rapidly unscrewing the cap of the strawberry drink and guiding it to his teammate’s chapped lips. “Careful, it’s cold.”

It takes about ten minutes for him to swallow a few sips of strawberry milk and one protein bar, but by the time he’s done, stomach still adjusting, his nausea and headache have lessened a bit. He feels less distant, more present, more awake. Still tired, though, beat, drained.

That’s his teammates’ chance to assault him with questions. “So, uhm, why haven’t you been able to function normally?”

“Aran!”

“Sorry, Samu, just asking the real question here.” he deadpans.

Rintarō fiddles with the bottle in his hands. “I…” he pauses, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I’ve been busy. With school, practice, my family…”

“Oh, I remember you mentioning that your parents wanted to take different shifts?” Kita asks.

A nod, “Two weeks ago, they started with their new shifts, but they overlap so I’m in charge of my sister when it comes to, like, school stuff, so her breakfast, lunch, and homework. Plus having to take her to school in the morning, while my parents pick her up afterwards.”

He sighs, shaky. After a sip of water一 and a struggle to unscrew the cap一 he continues. “I’m falling behind ‘cause by the end of the day I’m too tired to study, and I have to help her first, anyway. I’m just… just tired.”

“So, when you said ‘It was late’, you meant you didn’t have time to take care of yourself this morning ‘cause you were late?” Ojiro asks, unsure.

“I fell asleep tryin’ to do my homework yesterday, a-and I did sleep, but it was awful. Then, I didn’t set my alarm, so I woke up, like, twenty minutes bef-before we needed t’ leave. I didn’t want her to be late, and it- it doesn’t look good if a kid comes to school on an empty stomach and without their bentō...!” he rubs at his face with more strength than needed, and Osamu tries to run a hand up and down his back for comfort一 something he always does when his twin has a breakdown.

They’re all eerily silent for a few minutes, letting Rintarō rant and vent. Once he’s clearly more exhausted than he was before, getting slower with his responses, they decide to move. 

“Here’s what we’ll do. I have a big house, and my parents will be out for the weekend as well, so how about we all camp there until Sunarin gets better?” Ojiro says, flashing a bright smile. 

“School t’morrow…”

“There’s no way you’re coming to school tomorrow.” Kita says, “I can afford to skip for a day and stay with you at Ojiro’s, since I’ve collected a total of zero absences in the past two years. It won’t be a problem.” 

“I could, too! I mean, I’ve been absent for a few days, since this dumbass…” Osamu growls, elbowing Atsumu, “always catches every single disease on Earth and brings it home as a souvenir, but I don’t have any tests tomorrow, and my academic career isn’t as promising as yours, Captain.”

“I can skip, too! Volleyball leagues don’t really care if you graduate high school with full 100s, and I don’t plan on going to uni, like, ever.” Atsumu says.

“I can skip too, since it’s my house it would be rude of me to leave you guys alone there, I wouldn’t want you to feel forced.”

“You guys don’t need t’ do that…” He feels overwhelmed, and he’s not sure if it’s the fever, the exhaustion, or just the general fact that his friends care for him that much. “M’fine, really, I jus’ need to get in my bed and sleep…”

“Oh, right, why don’t we go to Sunarin’s house instead? He’d feel more comfortable. I mean, it’s a billion times better to rest in a familiar place!” Atsumu chirps, and Osamu nods, agreeing. 

“Are you okay with us coming to your house for a few days, Suna?” Kita asks, “You don’t have to say yes.”

He’s taken aback by the kindness. It’s not that he didn’t think his teammates could be capable of it, but he’s just never expected anyone to show that much kindness to him. 

He nods, shy, wary, but at peace. As soon as he’s propped on Ojiro’s back, Rintarō falls asleep.

[user21340]

my only exception

(i don’t own this gif or any of the characters in this fic)

summary: you and nat are separated when in the Red Room. you both are reunited. after holding onto a couple things to give her for a couple years you both realize love is well and alive.

warnings: violence, abuse, swearing, lil angst, fluff

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

word count: nearly 1.8k

a/n: omg i don’t know what to say! thank you for all the support on the stuff i’ve released so far. it’s super crazy seeing some of my favorite writers following me. thank you so so much for 30 followers! much love 💕💕

(italics in dialogue mean the person is speaking russian)

sorry for any mistakes i wrote this at 3am and have to get up for school at 6 😪 no bueno

It was a cold and stormy night as the power in the Red Room continuously flickered on and off even with the help of a high powered generator.

You and Natalia had been waiting for an event like this to occur so you could break out. Even though both herself and you lived only a small bit of life outside in the real world before you were taken in and trained to become a weapon, both of your humanly morals knew right from wrong. The Red Room’s treatment definitely being a wrong.

Madame B and the other monstrous staff at this facility put all you girls to bed roughly an hour ago. Nat and yourself undid your cuffs connecting your wrist to the metal bedframe so you could pack the few things you both owned before you made your escape. Both of you had talked this plan over through and through so you both were on the same page as soon as you saw that flicker of a power outage surge though the site.

At the moment you both were eighteen years old meaning both of you had proven yourselves worthy enough to hone a spot at this academy and had graduated a couple months prior.

GAME PLAN

Some information you had gathered which the staff weren’t aware of was every time the power flickered off, it disarmed and unlocked the exit door/s for nearly five seconds. The weather has been dry but cold lately not making this discovery too useful. The plan was to sneak over to uncuff yourselves in the middle of the night when these brief power outages were occurring, pack your items, and as you were about to escape bang on the wall of the large room where the girls kept at the academy would sleep to create enough of a distraction before you were out and free for good. Easy right? How wrong you’d be.

When it was time for the distraction, Nat stood by the door waiting for the next surge of lightning of whatever broke the electricities stability as you walked to the far side of the sleeping quarters where you were sure you’d have enough time to bang on the walls and sprint out of that door.

You heard a crash of thunder so you knew your escape chance would be soon. As you were about to start banging on the walls you see a door knob parallel to Nat but far away none the less start turning.

BAM

Lightning strikes, what seems to be right outside of the building. You sprint for the door only to have your arm caught by one of Madame B’s henchmen.

Just like that the power flickers.

five.

Without much thought you break away from the man’s grasp lunge at Natalia who happened to be at the door.

four.

“We’ll meet again Natalia.” you speak softly

three.

You shove her out of the door with all of your might.

two.

You use all of your remaining strength that you can muster up to slam the heavy metal door closed.

one.

Click

The door locks once again.

“You stupid little bitch. Get over here NOW!” the man practically growls.

You slowly and steadily walk over to the man as he gruesomely pummels and kicks you.

Sure the beatings, mind torture and manipulation hurt, but you’ve never experienced any kind of pain on the same caliber to what being separated from Natalia feels like.

Madame B is more than disappointed, enraged and annoyed with one of her ‘star students’. You receive daily beatings and long, tiresome training hours for helping Natalia escape. Although everyone is ‘replaceable’ in the minds of the staff as well as Madame B, they just lost Natalia so they couldn’t afford to lose you as well.

Months later the beatings finally slow down to a couple a week which you are able to endure. Madame’s mission now is to make a monster out of you by pushing you to and past your limits when training.

One night you finally drift off to sleep. You hate sleeping. It’s a constant replay of your last night with Nat. Only hoping that she made it to civilization safe and sound and is living a normal teens life. However, tonight’s dream is different. In this dream you see yourself shoving your packed-escape bag between your mattress and bedframe as you are bleeding out on the ground from the beatings. You wake up in a cold sweat and manage to kneel on the ground and slowly lift up your mattress only to find that same, small bag filled with the few, but important belongings of yours and Nat’s. You open up the bag forgetting all about what you both had packed. The most important items you see is a picture of Natalia as a toddler with alongside her mother and father, a small metal ring which you had made for her after stealing a small teaspoon at dinner, banging it against the concrete floor with a rock to flatten it out as you’d continuously bend it back and fourth so only the thinnest part is of the spoon is left which you bend into a ring before surprising Nat with it after you know she had a pretty rough day training, and lastly Nat’s papers containing important info about her such as her full name, birthplace, parents names, and birthdate.

November 22, 1984

November 22, 1984

November 22, 1984

November 22, 1984

You make sure you have this date burned into your head, latching onto any important information about her you can learn.

You hang onto those three items keeping them hidden.

Two and a half years later...

It’s late at night when you hear gunshots and fights breaking out throughout the facility. You quickly get up out of bed (once again undoing your cuffs) and grab those three items from under your mattress. You place them in your pocket getting ready to make a break for the outside world. As you reach for the door you turn back taking one last look at the place you’ve been living for pretty much the entirety of your life, only before a man in a funny red, white, and blue costume enters your view.

You bring your hands up ready for a fight.

“Look kid, I’m not here to fight you. We are breaking you out.” the man ensures

“Who even are you?” you sternly question

“Steve Rogers. But the public calls me Captain America.” his gaze settles on your figure, “Mind telling me who you are?” he pushes

“Names y/n, but look I’ve got places to be ma-“ you are cut off when Captain America’s jaw drops.

“No, we both know you don’t. But, you ARE coming with me.” you know there isn’t much room for protest but that won’t stop you from trying. You lunge at him and push him to the ground as you wave a small goodbye and sprint towards the door only for your body to fall on the ground limp. Realizing you’ve been stunned by something temporarily.

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” you shriek, he only chuckles.

“God, Nat was right about you.” she shakes he head with a small grin on his face.

“N-nat?” you whisper as you vision fades black.

You regain consciousness and look around only to find yourself in a weird windowy, loud vehicle type thing. You see a group of people standing around you but you see one particular familiar face hovering directly over yours lightly combing through your hair with one one hand and gently outlining your jawline with the other.

“NAT!” you screech, your brain is feeling too many emotions to comprehend at the moment.

Once she sees and hears you are awake she pulls you into a bone crushing hug.

“Y/n/n I’m so sorry I left you and you had to stay in that hellhole for so long alone I don’t know how I would’ve help up it if that-“ you cut her off

“Natalia, all that matters is I’m here with you right now.” you reason.

After getting off of what you learned is a ‘plane’ you and Nat spend hours together clinging onto one another as if, as soon as you separate you will be absent in her life for another couple years, vice versa.

Months pass by. Even though you and Nat have yet to label yourselves as a couple your hearts belong to one another after being attached to the hip to one another for pretty much every activity or mission you both do. In this time you were also recruited as an Avenger due to your skillful hand to hand combat and your masterful types of fighting you have nearly perfected from your time in the room.

The date just happens to be November 22. You are pretty sure no one in the compound is aware of Natalia’s birthday, hell, you aren’t even sure if she’s aware.

Today is the day you decide to return the missing items from her bag that you recover after she left.

You wake up next to her and wake her up with a long, graceful, soft kiss on her lips to which she responds shortly after by kissing you back as you feel as tiny smirk against your own lips.

“Hey, what was that for?” she asks playfully

“Ohhh nothing. Just maybe it’s for my favorite girl’s special day today.” Nat blushes.

“H-how’d you know?”

“Oh honey, I know e v e r y t h i n g.” you reply

Before she can respond you pull her to sit up on your shared bed and hand her an envelope containing her papers as well as he one and only photo of herself and her family.

As soon as she sees both items she sobs into your chest. (more because of the picture, you really only included her papers so she too would know all the most crucial parts of her life pre-red room era.

“Uh, uh, uh’” you tut,”One more thing.” you reach for her hand slowly and tell her to shut her eyes. You slowly slide the makeshift ring on her finger.

“Open.” you instruct

To which she gasps at the sight and just like the day you both were reunited you hugged and kissed for hours on end.

“Nat, will you be my girlfriend?” you ask with a sheepish smile.

“Of course y/n/n, I thought you’d never ask.” she takes a breath,“I know love is for children, but you are my only exception.”

“Ditto.” Natalia chuckles, “That is what the Americans say, right?” you backtrack with flushed cheeks.

She holds you tighter and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Sure.” she breathes out.

[mrslilyrogers]

All I have to do is Dream Part 3

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)

Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.

Author’s notes: This is late and not as long as I hoped it would be but hope you all enjoy! There might be one more part left to this series and maybe an epilogue. 

Eight voicemails and twelve messages. Eight voicemails and twelve messages from the person you wanted to talk to the most. Everyday for the past few weeks since you left, he called. And everyday your hands itched to reach out and call back but you stopped yourself. 

“I love her!” 

His voice echoed in your head. Enough was enough. Your fingers kneaded your temples, trying to alleviate the headache forming there. It didn’t help that there was a dark gnawing feeling in your gut, something was wrong. You knew it. A sixth sense, if you will. It happened the first time your powers manifested. You had been eight then, in front of the television with your dad when suddenly, your heart started to beat faster, your breaths coming in short pants, and your forehead dotted in sweats; a strong sense of foreboding crept under your skin and ever since then, life had never been the same. 

That night, you slept in a restless slumber; trapped under a heavy spell while you watched your father as a young boy. You had no idea how you knew the man who carried you over his shoulders, who seemed so strong and indestructible to your child’s eyes, was this same little boy you watched. You couldn’t understand it, you were dreaming but it was so real. Every detail as crisp as if you had been there and witnessed it. It wasn’t long before it all changed, everything before you cast in a darker shade, the people around you in black, sliding apologetic glances towards the somber boy standing in between his grandparents. You started to break out in a cold sweat, you were at a funeral. The boy’s parents, your father’s parents, just died. You ran, screaming, your heart racing, trying to find a way to get out. You couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t. But the more frantic you became, the more everything jumbled, bringing out his worst fears and nightmares and all you could do was scream, helpless and trapped. 

Oddly enough, that was how you felt now. Despite leaving Steve for the sake of the both of you, you were trapped, helpless to the niggling thought at the back of your mind that something was about to go horribly wrong. You tried to remember everything Xavier Institute has taught you, you were a telepath and with it came a natural intuition you couldn’t ignore. A heightened sense of empathy and awareness. 

You understood people even when they barely gave you a chance to be understood. You still remembered all those times people ran away from you. Those you considered your closest friends, even your teachers, treated you as if you were the plague. Their thoughts filled with dread and terror while you desperately tried to explain yourself but the more agitated you became, the more you lost control. It gave you no other choice but to distance yourself from them, getting homeschooled and keeping to yourself as much as you could. Your father tried his best, you knew he did but he could never look at you the same way. You didn’t have to get into his head to hear his cries at night, worrying and wondering where he went wrong.

It wasn’t long before Professor X found you and invited you to join his school for the gifted. School for the gifted. There was a time you couldn’t say that without a roll to your eyes, how could it have been a gift when all it ever caused you was sorrow? The day it was finally time for you to leave the only home you’ve ever known, your father’s relief was palpable in the air. He never gave voice to it and instead promised to visit as often as he could but even then, you knew he wouldn’t have been able to keep up. He visited you less and less as time went on until your relationship was reduced to a couple of phone calls barely lasting five minutes long. 

That was why you learned never to get too close. You owed to the X-Men who you were today. They had given you a place to call home, somewhere to belong to. For all the years you spent at the institute, they were nothing but kind to you, encouraging you, helping you hone your abilities and to cope with the loss of your former life. They gave you a fresh start, a new family and it should’ve been enough and in some ways, it is. But there was always a part of yourself you couldn’t give no matter how hard you tried and so the moment you could leave, you left. You wandered on your own, occasionally coming back to visit and catch up before leaving again, never planting any roots. That was the way you wanted it, that way you could never get hurt. 

Until Steve.

He instantly broke down your defenses and what was supposed to be a one-timer mission turned longer than you would’ve ever dreamed. You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t stay with the Avengers because of him. The truth was as much as staying with them was fulfilling, there was a part of him that called out to you. You understood him, a man out of his time. Out of place. All you’ve ever felt your whole life. His loneliness drew you to him like a moth to a flame. He never showed it, too proud to admit it to himself but you knew it the instant you met him. He was untethered, burdened to continue on in a world he didn’t belong in. Your heart ached for him, for a man so lost that he only ever felt alive when he was at war. You tried to help him see the world with color again. “Ironic, coming from you,” you thought to yourself. But the more time you spent with him, the more your cynicism chipped away bit by bit until you became closer to the person you were before your abilities. Free to dream and love as you should’ve been. It was as if you needed him as much as he needed you. 

“Would you like a refill for that, honey?” the kindly old waitress asked, jerking you out of your reverie, her wrinkled face etched into a pitying smile. You shook your head and gave her your thanks, the dread in your chest intensifying once more. 

Look at where you are now, back to square one. 

You huffed at the tiny voice inside your head. She was right. Here you were, sat on a dingy couch at a diner in the middle of nowhere running from the people you loved the most. You looked at your phone again, the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach screaming at you to do something. You should at least call Nat, you thought to yourself. You’d been planning to call her anyway even though you always chickened out. That seemed the safest thing to do for your sanity, make sure they were alright then you’d be on your merry way again. It was the only way to calm your racing heart, to get rid of that sense of foreboding creeping up at you and pulling you down. You could just be anxious, right? Guilt and shame of leaving plaguing you before you could truly move on. After that phone call, everything will be put back to rights. You’ll feel better, you keep telling yourself. Only your mind wouldn’t listen. 

The ringing on the other end of the line kept you on edge and when Nat’s worried voice greeted you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. 

“Y/N! Where the hell have you been? Steve has been looking everywhere for you! Do you know how worried we’ve been?”

You could hear the hurt in her tone and your heart broke at how you’d left things with your friend, completely forgetting about how she’d react when you impulsively decided to run away. But they were safe. At least, they were safe. Tears pricked at your eyes, you had no idea just how desperate you’ve become to hear her voice on the line, to know that nothing had happened in your absence and the stress of these past few weeks have just been taking its toll.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Nat--” you broke off, your voice cracking from trying not to cry. 

“I shouldn’t have left the way I did but it was just too much, I had to leave. I couldn’t stay, not after everything that happened,” you continued, sniffing through it, willing yourself not to break down to your best friend on the phone in the middle of a busy diner.

“I know, sweetie. Steve told me all about it.” She sighed, sounding tired, before continuing, “You know I will never pick any sides right? I’ll support whatever you decide.” 

“Thanks, Nat. I knew you would, I never doubted you. It’s just… it’s been a lot to take in and I can’t… I don’t know how to face him if…” you trailed off, not having the courage to continue what you knew all along. It was one thing to admit it to yourself but another to say it out loud to another person. It made it more real. More final. You picked at the hem of your shirt, shaking your head. It was as if Nat knew what you were thinking, she gave another sigh on the other end of the line.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it now. But Y/N, he really does love you. He hasn’t been the same since you left and--” she immediately cut herself off as if she was about to say something she shouldn’t. You didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath before she continued, “You should really talk to him, Y/N.” 

“Nat, what’s going on? Are you guys alright?”

You felt goosebumps on your flesh. Rubbing your free hand on your thigh, you tried to calm your racing nerves.

“No, no, we’re fine. Don’t worry--” she replied instantaneously, reassuring you but before she could continue, you cut her off, relief washing over you. 

“Good. That’s good. Cause for a while there, I thought you were gonna say something crazy. I’ve just been having this weird feeling that something big is going to happen. But I’m probably just being anxious. Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“You really do have that scary clairvoyant thing going on sometimes,” you heard her laugh at you, teasing, but before you could say anything else, she turned serious, 

“Y/N, we’re gonna try to bring everyone back,” her voice was filled with hope and determination that it made you pause, your brain struggling to keep up. 

What? Did you hear her right? 

She started to explain their plan but your mind was already spinning. You immediately left the booth, slapping a ten dollar bill on the table. Your frantic steps heading into the direction of your car parked outside.

“Nat, Nat, hold on. What do you mean you’re leaving? Traveling through time? Is that even possible?” You slammed the door on your car, your voice hushed as if scared to even wonder, heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

If she really meant what you think she meant then they were all going to risk their lives for an attempt to bring everyone back. But who knew if it would even work? What if they got lost? What if they never came back? You didn’t give yourself a moment to hope. This was too dangerous. Too quick and impulsive. You needed to talk to Steve.

Before Nat could reply, you heard him call her in the background, his voice authoritative and resolute. They were ready. They were going to leave now. 

“Nat, let me talk to him,” you heard yourself say without preamble. There was no need to think it through, it didn’t matter if he hated you, if he wanted nothing to do with you, you just had to talk to him. 

“Who’s that?” You could hear him ask in the background, his voice far, his footsteps approaching. 

The moment he realized who was on the other line, the moment he saw your picture flash on his friend’s screen, his hand shot out frantically for it, scared you’d leave before he even got a chance to hear your voice. 

“Y/N?” he asked softly, worried you might suddenly end the call. You could almost see the look on his face, eyebrows furrowed, eyes searching and concerned. 

“Steve,” All the emotions you felt carried out in a single name. Regret, shame, longing. That was all it took before you broke down into tears. If you hadn’t called Nat, if you had let even one more day pass by, your last fight could’ve been the last time you ever saw him. 

“Is everything alright? What happened? Are you okay?” he was suddenly alert, voice booming with concern and just a little bit of panic. 

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine. Nat told me everything. Are you leaving already? What’s going on?” you managed to choke out, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You heard him let out a sigh of relief on the other end. 

“Oh, doll. Don’t worry about us. It’ll be alright. We’ve got it under control, I promise,” he sounded so sure of himself, his voice so soothing, almost as if he were caressing your back like he usually does to reassure you. You heard his footsteps again and the closing of a door, you assumed he looked for a place more private, quiet. This time, you wouldn’t easily let up. 

“You can’t promise that, Steve. Let me come with you,” you pleaded, exasperation in your tone. You surprised even yourself, your hands already frantically moving to drive.  You had no idea what came over you, had no idea what you were even really getting into. All you knew was that no matter where you stood in your relationship, you’ve been through so much together, you couldn’t let him face this alone. 

“No. Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous, Y/N. Just stay where you are and I’ll come find you when all this is over,” his voice brooked no argument. You could already tell how he looked like, his head shaking vehemently, feet braced apart, eyes flashing with determination. 

“Steve--” you started, voice rising in return but he immediately cut you off. 

“Y/N, listen to me. I don’t have much time but please, just this once, promise me you’ll stay where you are. Keep yourself safe until I come find you--”

“No way am I--” you spoke over him, your patience wearing thin, panic rising in your throat. 

“Y/N, let me finish. Doll, I don’t have much time. We’ve already ran simulations and this works. We’re gonna get them all back but I can’t do that if I think you’re in trouble so please, baby, just promise me you’ll stay put. It’ll only be a minute for you. Just stay where you are, please. I can’t lose you, love.” his voice verged on desperation, making you pause. 

“I know I’ve said some things I can’t take back and god, do I fucking regret them every single day since you left but I love you. And if this fails and I don’t come back, I need to know you’re at least safe. I need you to promise me that,”

“Steve, don’t… don’t talk like that,” you shook your head, not acknowledging what he was saying. This was unfair. Steve was never one to be pessimistic, he never showed any vulnerability before a mission and the fact that he did now made your heart ache. He had one goal and one goal only, he wanted to right what he perceived to be his wrong. He was going into this fully prepared to give his life to get everyone back. But for you, the stakes were too high. Who knew the dangers of what the past held? What if something happens that would keep him there? 

“Love, please. We’re leaving soon,”

You let out a huge breath. “Just promise me you’ll be back?” 

You could almost hear the smile on his face, could almost see his shoulders sag with relief. 

“Then promise me, you’d stop driving while on the phone,” he joked, trying to make light of the situation. He knew how you could get when you excessively worried about him. He didn’t even realize how much he loved it until now that your fussing was reduced to a phone call. 

“Steve, I mean it,” you warned seriously. 

“When have I ever backed down from a fight? And this is just an extraction mission. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” his voice sounded so calming, you almost believed it. 

Despite his downplaying, you knew the risks. Time travel? Who could even say they’ve thought this would be possible even in their wildest dreams?

“I’ve gotta go, sweetheart. I love you. I’ll come to you as soon as all this is over,” you heard the scuffle of feet in the background, heard F.R.I.D.A.Y calling out to him, and suddenly, you didn’t have enough time. You had so much to say, so much to apologize for.

“Steve, wait--” you started desperately, ready to beg for forgiveness. 

“Don’t.” he cut you off quickly as if already knowing the direction you were heading in. 

“There’s no need, doll. I love you, we’ll make this work. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make it work,”

He sounded so sincere, so forgiving that it made your lips tremble into a soft smile.

“I love you too, Steve. I’ll see you guys in a minute,” you replied, trying to sound as lighthearted as you could when you heard Nat scream it to you in the background. You didn’t want to psyche him out with your worry. This was the mission of his lifetime, everyone depended on him. 

You tried to ignore the heavy feeling in your gut, the fear crawling up your veins. 

Something is about to go wrong. 

Steve chuckled, finally feeling a weight being lifted off his chest, finally able to hope again. This was the future he looked forward to. 

“We’ll see you in a minute, baby,”  

You hoped to God you would. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Author’s notes: This was tough to write since everything happens through a phone call. I tried to capture the tension of the situation through that and hope I did. As always, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! 

[slytherins-heir]

Wakey-Wakey

Warnings; 18+ only, unprotected sex, somnophilia (consensual), mentions of alcohol, all the good shit

This is definitely not proof read, don't kill me. I just had the idea and wanted to get it out so I'm sorry if it sucks ass. There's a lil fluff at the beginning and end (don't get used to it)

DO NOT repost to other websites.

To say you and Johnny had an average sex life would have been the biggest lie either of you ever told. Both of you were completely open with each other and shared your desires and fantasies. That’s one thing you loved about him, and one thing he loved about you. No matter what was discussed between you, neither of you ever judged the other on what you wanted. If one of you didn’t feel comfortable with doing something, it wasn’t argued about. You’d both understand each other and move on with your relationship, never letting something come between you. Although this wasn’t the case with the latest idea Johnny had. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t what you were expecting.

You both had been sitting on the couch watching a drama, both of you with a glass of red wine in each hand, sitting under a fluffy blanket. The only light in the room was coming from the tv as well as the couple of lit candles placed on the coffee table in front of you.

You were surprised over what Johnny had brought up, but you’d be lying if you said the thought never crossed your mind. Somnophilia-

Even though you and Johnny never judged each other, it was something you had never worked up the courage to ever bring it up.

Hearing him ask you if you’d ever be willing to do it made your heart skip a beat and your mind scramble for an answer. The way you looked at Johnny made him think you were totally against it, his face turning deep red before brushing it off and telling you to ‘’nevermind’’. Just as he was turning back to look at the TV, your free hand grabbed his and pulled it towards you. ‘’No, I want to..’’ you said, your eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

A smile spread across his face as he nodded, ‘’okay then.’’ he said before kissing you lightly and turning his attention back to the TV.

___________

It had been a few weeks since Johnny first left to stay at the dorms with the rest of NCT. It was easier for him to stay with the boys when they had album preparations to do, considering the short distance from the dorms to where they needed to be, compared to the distance from your apartment.

It was the night Johnny was coming back to stay with you for a while, this time running later than usual. You had been excited to see him in person again. Sure, you two were always video calling whenever he had time to himself, but hearing his voice through your phone wasn’t the same as when he was with you, and you definitely couldn’t touch him through the phone. You missed his intoxicating laugh and his goofy self, spending the nights with him, waking up with him, the feeling of his lips on yours, the feeling of his skin on yours, especially when you were both worked up and sweaty, whether it be from a make out session or from working each others bodies for release.

You tried to be patient while waiting for Johnny to return, but with each minute that passed you craved his touch more and more, and with what almost felt like every second you checked your phone. As the night rolled through, you had found yourself struggling to stay awake, exhausted from the day at work you had. The last thing you wanted was to fall asleep and not be awake when Johnny arrived, but you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, finally sleep over powering you despite all your efforts to stay focused on the laptop that sat beside you on your bed.

It hadn’t been too late when Johnny finally showed up, or so he thought. Once he stepped in the door to your apartment, you were nowhere to be seen. He took a quick glance at the clock that hung on the wall before him as it read half past midnight. Shit, he thought to himself before he made his way to your bedroom where he knew you’d be, hopefully not pissed at him for being late.

Johnny entered your bedroom and was greeted with the sight of you, your back to him, the light snores coming from you being the only thing signalling to him that you were asleep. At least you couldn’t complain to him about being late now-

A smile spread across his face as he looked at you sleeping peacefully, the smile only fading when an idea crossed his mind. She did agree to it before.. he thought to himself in reply to the idea he had. He swallowed harshly when he felt himself grow hard beneath his sweatpants, he knew then that the idea was definitely a good one.

He made his way quietly over to your bed, dropping his bag and quietly beside it, taking off his hoodie and throwing it to the ground before picking up your laptop and leaving it on the bedside locker. He quietly climbed onto the bed, once he was beside you he noticed the way your breath was hitching even in your sleep, the way that your bare legs seemed to rub themselves together, unaware of the taller man's presence by you.

That’s when it registered with Johnny what was happening, you were really having a wet dream right in front of him. A smirk crossed his lips once that became obvious, soft moans slipping past your lips. Johnny knew that his idea would definitely be appreciated when you eventually woke up.

He quickly pushed the sweats he wore down and off along with his underwear, hearing you must have taken more of an effect on him since by this point he was fully hard.

He carefully pulled as much of his large hoodie that you wore up before pulling your waist gently back towards him. Excitement ran through him as he slowly pushed his dick into you, surprised at how wet you were just from a single dream. With each inch that entered you, Johnny suppressed every moan that threatened to escape him as he felt your walls tighten even more around him. Once he fully bottomed out in you, he settled for a minute to catch his breath and to refocus on not completely busting there and then. Suddenly he felt you slowly moving your ass against him and for a minute he didn’t know if you were awake or not, considering you hadn’t turned to him to press your lips against his like you’d usually do in this position, he went with the latter.

Johnny’s large hands grabbed slightly at your waist as he started fucking into you, he completely gave up on trying to keep his breath steady and his moans to himself along with starting to lose his rhythm already.

You thought it was just a dream of Johnny fucking you, not aware that he was actually making you feel this full. You slowly started to wake up and once the slightest bit of awareness came to you, you caught onto what was happening pretty fast. Your hand quickly met the hand that rested on your side, your fingers entwining themselves in his. ‘’Fuck, Johnny..’’ you moaned as you arched your back against him.

‘’Finally awake huh?’’ he said, you could hear the smirk in his voice as his lips moved to your neck, harshly leaving marks on your soft skin that was definitely going to leave some dark marks tomorrow.

‘’Johnny-’’ you said, your voice hitching in your throat as you tried to stumble out words, ‘’I- I’m gonna cum’’ you finally managed to pant out. You heard him chuckle from behind you as his hips slapped against you, ‘’it’s okay, you don't have to hold it in’’ he said before bringing his lips back to your sensitive skin along with his hand leaving yours to wrap itself around your throat.

The tension that had been building up in you was finally too much for your body to handle as waves of pleasure finally washed over you as your walls completely clamped down on his dick, your orgasm more powerful than Johnny was expecting. As he felt your orgasm wash through you, the feeling that was building up within him finally took over, his hips faltering as he pushed himself into you one last time before he finally released into you.

The feeling of him filling you up with his cum was too much for you in your oversensitive state, sending you into another orgasm, your walls constantly tightening around Johnny leaving him to groan into your ear as you milked every drop of cum out of him.

Once you both managed to catch your breath, Johnny wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him as he left a gentle kiss on your cheek, never intending to pull his length from you. Your fatigue took over again as you felt your eyelids grow heavy, the last thing you heard was a soft ‘’I love you.’’ whispered into your ear as you both drifted off to sleep.

[zafirosreverie]

Must be the eyes (Teacher!Agatha x Fem!Student!Reader) part  8

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

a/n: Does anyone still read this? I’m sorry for not posting in days, but here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

- - - - - - - - - - - 

Wanda smiled and rolled her eyes fondly as she read the message that Agatha had sent.

"Y/N 's sick. I'll stay to take care of her. It's your turn to take care of the girls."

The redhead knew exactly what that meant. She knew you weren't sick at all, but it was the last day in Salem and her friend just wanted to spend it with you. If she was honest with herself, she had been quite surprised when Agatha told her about her...she wasn't really sure if you were dating or not, but at least she knew there were kisses and sex.

Either way, she was happy for you (even though it had been embarrassing to go to reception and say that they weren't going to change rooms after all) and had been covering you for the past two weeks.

"Okay, tell Miss Y/L/N that I hope she feels better soon"

______________

Agatha giggled lightly and made a mental note to buy the red-haired woman dinner, before throwing her phone on the nightstand. Wanda had been a great help in these two weeks and the brunette was completely grateful for it.

You grunted a little and rolled over on the bed, unconsciously pressing yourself against the older woman's chest. Agatha smiled and kissed your head, stroking your back.

This was something completely different from what you had done so far. Not the sex, that was still as wild as the first day. But this, waking up with you in her arms and allowing herself to contemplate you as the daylight filtered through the curtains. That was new.

You guys had made a pact (well actually, she had made all the rules ... but you had nodded, which meant you were in complete agreement ... right?) That you could only use the nights for yourselves.

So when morning came, she would get up quickly and go to bathe. By the time she came out, you were already waking up, so she just left you in the room alone, so you could get ready.

She didn't talk to you all day and she rarely came near you. There was no need, after all. You were hers.

She couldn't explain the wave of relief that washed over her. Knowing that you belonged to her, that everything you put on, what you did, was for her, it was a great liberation. She no longer had to torture herself by thinking you were someone else’s.

The only thing that hadn't changed was that her eyes were constantly on you. She watched every step you took, every time you sat down (she didn't want you to show too much, ok? Those legs were hers), but especially, she watched every interaction you had with Nicholas Jadu.

You had told her that she had nothing to worry about, that you were just friends. And of course she believed you, she trusted you. Just...not him.

But either way, she didn't have to worry about it. Not today. Today you would be in bed all day and she would enjoy her last day with you to the fullest.

Yes, maybe she should have asked you first before reporting you sick ... but she was sure you would agree.

You always did.

_____________

You stretched out a bit before you started rubbing your eyes. You were feeling a bit tired, but it was nothing new to you. In recent days, waking up exhausted, with weak legs, sore arms, and hickeys all over the body, was common.

You sighed quietly before you rolled. Or well, try to roll. You frowned when your back hit something, and you felt a grip on your hip. You opened your eyes and found your head buried in Agatha's chest.

Okay- This...this wasn’t common.

She never woke up next to you. She always slipped away before the sun finished rising and she left you in the room, by yourself. She said it was to be safe, to avoid raising suspicions. Too bad that meant that the brunette could never see your disappointed face, nor the trembling of your legs, which was not from the activities of the night before, but from fear.

Fear of stepping into a trap. Fear of recognizing in those blue eyes that you loved so much, the shadow of those green ones that hurted you so much.

"She's not like that" you thought, trying to reassure yourself. But it all felt too much the same.

_________________

Agatha frowned slightly when she saw you lost in thought. She didn't want to intrude, but she couldn't help but worry, either. Maybe you were really sick?

"Y/N?" she asked softly, making you jump slightly "everything fine  in that little head of yours?"

"Y-yes" you mumbled "just...I was finishing waking up" you lied

The brunette didn't seem to believe you, but she decided not to pressure you, so she just nodded and kissed your head. You sighed a little and felt your cheeks blush. You liked being like this, calm in her arms. But something was still wrong ...

"Aggs ..." you whispered

The woman smiled a little, she loved when you called her that. "Yes, my love?"

"...why are you here?" you asked carefully.

Agatha frowned and looked at you for a moment, somewhat confused. You didn't want her to be there? Weren't you glad to wake up with her? But then a pang of guilt attacked her.

Of course you would be confused! She never woke up next to you. She cursed herself for a moment, before looking at you again and giving you a smile that she hoped was reassuring.

"It's our last day" she told you "I wanted to be with you" she admitted, stroking your cheek.

You blushed a little more and looked away from her, making her laugh a little. She kissed you on the temple again, before taking your chin and lifting your face a little so she could kiss you on the lips.

"We'll be late" you murmured against her mouth "Surely they are already waiting for us"

Agatha smiled at you and shook her head slightly.

"I ... I told Wanda you were sick" she said, a little embarrassed "I know I should have asked you first, but-"

"It’s okay" you interrupted her.

Yes, it would have been nice if she woke you up to ask you before doing it, but you were grateful and a little touched by the gesture. She had put her job aside to be with you, after all.

"We can always say that you felt better" she told you "If at any time you want to go out, we will simply say that you already feel good"

You smiled and let her kiss you again. Unlike the heated kisses she gave you at night, before throwing you on the bed, this kiss was calm, slow, and loving. Her hand on your waist didn't make you feel excited, but it did make you feel loved and protected.

You liked this Agatha Harkness. The one who took care of you, who made you feel special and loved. The one who simply wanted to be with you because she could, not to satisfy some need.

"Do you want breakfast?" she asked after a while of kissing you "I can go down to buy something"

"Well ... I wouldn't say no to some pancakes" you said, smiling shyly.

"Pancakes will be then" she replied.

The brunette leaned over you again and kissed you deeply one last time, before getting up and changing to go out

_______________

Agatha was careful when she went down to the hotel’s restaurant and ordered breakfast. It wasn't that she was afraid that some student would see her or that they would start asking questions, she had an alibi ready. But she preferred not to be withholding more than necessary. She wanted to get back to you as soon as possible.

The woman knew she hadn't been entirely fair to you in recent weeks. But she hadn't known what else to do. She wanted to be with you, she wanted to hold your hand as you walked, hug you, take care of you. But she couldn't risk doing it in public, and by the time the night came, she needed you so badly that she just blurted out, taking what she wanted from you.

No, it wasn't a good excuse, and she knew it. But she was hoping she could make it up to you a little today.

_______________

"Pancakes and a couple of flowers" you said, smiling when the brunette offered you a small bouquet of violets that you recognized as one of the ones sold outside the hotel. "Either there is bad news or someone is trying to get on my good side" you joked, but you couldn't help your heart flutter. It was a nice touch of her part.

"A bit of both" admitted the woman.

You frowned a bit, watching her as she carelessly tossed her purse onto the dresser and kicked off her shoes. Agatha smiled at you as she climbed on top of you on the bed and kissed you again. Okay, there had been a lot of kisses today and it was barely 10, what was going on?

"There's bad news because it's our last day" she said "And I'm trying to get on your good side because I don't want anything to change between us when we get back" she said

"A little late for that, don’t you think?" you said

"Touché" she laughed lightly, getting off you and sitting next to you "Well, I don't want things to change too much between us" she said

"Well I'm sure my classmates will still make me sit in the front row as a totem to calm the storm" you joked

Agatha laughed heartily at this and seeing her so free and open was a beautiful sight.

"I'm glad to hear that" she said, kissing your cheek "I miss our little arguments" she admitted

"Me too" you said

"And we still have a pending debate" she said "Don't think we finished with Medusa"

Now you laughed heartily and shook your head. You were more than ready for that debate.

The brunette leaned on your shoulder as you finished your breakfast, leaving a trail of lazy kisses on your neck. One of her hands pulled a lock of hair from your face and caressed your cheek, while she wrapped her other arm around you.

You were confused at how different she was acting, but this...yeah, this felt good.

___________

You sighed when you got off the bus.

It all felt so surreal, like you had just woken up from a dream (or a two week coma). You just felt different. You weren't the same girl you had been before Salem.

Your classmates came and went with their suitcases, some talking, others laughing, others too tired. You watched Nick kiss Dalton goodbye on the cheek and you smiled. At least one of you could continue your love story.

You discreetly looked in the direction of the teachers and were not surprised to find a pair of blue eyes staring at you.

Neither of you moved. You didn’t smile, didn’t greet each other, didn’t walk towards each other. Nothing. You just looked at each other and you felt your chest tighten a bit. You knew it was a goodbye.

Your time was up.

But it was okay. The universe had given you almost two weeks with this woman. Yes, maybe there were things you didn't like (that terrified you, actually), like her jealousy and possessiveness. But there were also things that you would keep in your memory forever, like her kisses, her arms drawing you to her to sleep, the way she caressed your cheek or the way she made you feel pretty.

Also, you held in your arms the reminder of what you had shared with her.

Agatha looked at you as you sighed again and grabbed your suitcase, walking towards Nicholas's car. She would have offered to drive you home, but she had to stay until each and every student was gone and she didn't want to have you there waiting.

Besides, she knew that she would only be delaying the inevitable. The deadline was up and you had to go back to being just teacher and student.

However, when she saw you get into the car with little Aggie in your arms, she smiled to herself. All the way back, the doll had been sitting between the two of you, serving as a shield so that no one else could see that your hands were intertwined.

She had to admit that she had been flattered and touched when the doll's name escaped from your mouth. You had turned red and she had giggled, but she had told you that it was a nice name. You had smiled at her and, taking care that no one saw, you had given her a quick kiss.

Damn. She was going to miss you.

Well, at least her mini-me would be safe in your arms. Lucky doll.

"Harkness, a little help around here" Wanda called her. Agatha sighed and gave you one last look before turning and walking to the redhead. She didn't notice the sad smile you gave her.

________________

You sighed in relief when you finally got into bed later that night. Finally you began to feel all the weight and fatigue of the trip.

Also ... you didn't want to think about how huge and cold your bed felt, or the presence that was missing next to you. You told yourself it was part of the deal, that this was agreed upon.

You didn't want to, but you tried to remember the bad things. The times she scolded you out of jealousy, how she subtly tried to control you. All of that. You needed to convince yourself that it was just an affair and that was all. That you shouldn't want more.

But then you remembered the good things too. And of course, your heart, ignoring your brain, decided that that was more than enough to forgive the other.

"Damn woman" you muttered "Did she have to stay so buried in my head?"

You rolled onto your side and looked at the doll on your nightstand. You felt a warmth in your chest, similar to the one you felt the day you opened the gift on your bed.

You jumped a bit when your cell phone vibrated and the screen lit up with a new message. Frowning at the time, you took it. Your heart stopped for a moment and you couldn't help but smile like an idiot when you opened it.

From: Ms Harkness

Miss you.

I know I'm breaking the agreement, but I needed you to know.

Damn this woman and the way she controls you. It seems that you would fall under her spell again and see her in your dreams.

From: You

I miss you too

Wish you were here.

From: Ms. Harkness

I wish I was there too.

I don't know if I can fulfill the agreement, Y/N. It's only been a few hours and I already need you.

From: You

In a good way, I hope?

From: Agatha

In all ways ;)

You laughed a bit at that and cursed her again.

From: Agatha

It's late, I should let you sleep.

see you tomorrow.

From: you

I don't know if I can sleep. But okay.

See you tomorrow.

From: Agatha

Good night.

I love you

Your heart jumped a bit and you felt butterflies in your stomach at the last message.

From: you

Love you too.

You turned off the cell phone and left it next to the doll, again in her spell then.

"You're right little Aggie" you smiled "it must be the eyes". 

Alerts kept going on in your head, telling you, begging you, not to fall, to remember how much she scared you when she demanded that you stop spending time with Nick. But your heart was telling you that she really loved you, that you should give her a chance to prove it.

Agatha Harkness and her way of confusing you. She did things that just made you forget her mistakes. You just hoped you weren't committing a bigger one.

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[luvluvnitrodynamite]

jealous jujutsu kaisen characters <3

ft. itadori yuuji, gojou satoru g/n!reader (sfw, with some suggestive themes in gojou)

itadori yuuji - watching itadori get jealous is a bit cute, if you're being honest. i mean, take what happened in the grocery store yesterday. ~ "yuuji, we're out of rice," you say to him, re-checking your list. "we're out of rice??? impossible. i just had some yesterday." you sigh. "be that as it may, that doesn't change the fact that we don't have it anymore. can you grab it really fast?" he pouts a bit. you're not sure if he genuinely doesn't want to leave your side or if he's just stalling to remember where the rice aisle is. regardless, you don't want to stand here all day. "yuuji, i'll give you a kiss as a reward if you get it for me." he perks up immediately, giving you a grin and a thumbs up before dashing in the opposite direction. you smile to yourself. itadori may have been an idiot, but he's your idiot. the thought warms your heart. you push your cart of the produce section and into a large selection of rows, choosing one closest to you. you seem to be in the tea aisle. oh good, you think. we've been out of tea for a couple of days now. you peruse the section, picking up some green tea. you get some chamomile as well, stacking the boxes carefully so they won't get crushed by fruits. mmm what about chai? you search the boxes, only to see it's at the very top self. you reach up, fingers just barely touching the platform it's on. you can't even brush up against the box. you try standing on tiptoes, looking a bit silly as you try to extend your body beyond its natural length. you're thinking maybe you should wait for itadori to get back when a different hand easily plucks the box off the shelf. you follow the hand to its owner, to see it belongs to a tall guy about your age. he's cute you suppose, but it's no itadori. still, you smile sweetly and charm him with a "thank you! there was no way I was going to reach that." He smiles broadly back at you. "No problem," he replies. "You like chai tea?" You want to be polite and he's nice enough, so you respond "definitely! I don't know if it's my favorite, but it's a staple in my pantry." He blushes a bit, and scratches his hand behind his neck. "Yeah, same," he says. "There's actually a really nice café that opened up a few blocks away from here. They make a mean cup of chai, and they have these delicious little cinnamon rolls that go really well with them. If you're free any time soon, do you want to try one with me?" You open your mouth to politely turn him down when you feel a protective arm wrap around your waist. You turn your head to see a pink-cheeked itadori glaring at the stranger. he does look mad, but you also think he just looks so cute. ah, the duality of man. "oh, hi yuuji! did you get the rice?," you ask him. you have priorities, after all. "yeah," he says, not moving his arm or his gaze. "who's this, love?" oh, he's really jealous if he's pulling out the love. you try to defuse the situation. "oh, this guy just helped me get some tea from the top shelf. thanks again!" you say. the guy was not expecting a wild itadori to emerge from the tall grass, and is trying to figure a way out. "no problem," he repeats. "i'll see you around, yeah?" without waiting for a response, he puts the tea in your cart and walks away. "did you know that guy?" you ask, as itadori relaxes and puts the rice in the cart. "no, but it sure looks like you did," he says, a bit annoyed. "yuuji, are you jealous?" you tease. "no! of course not!" he retorts. his cheeks are still pink though, and now he's looking around like he expecting another guy to run through and sweep you up in their arms. you decide to take mercy on him, and tug one of his hands in your own. "hey, don't i owe you a reward for getting my rice?" he perks up, and flicks his gaze almost imperceptibly towards your mouth. you sweetly press his lips to his cheek, and smile innocently when he gives you an annoyed look. you turn around to go the cart, only to see that the tea guy has returned. itadori sees him too, and he looks mad again. however, instead of confronting him, he looks at you and says,

"c'mon, i meant a real kiss." he gently places his hands on your face and pulls you in. it's a light, yet passionate kiss. the rhythm is slow and soft, but there's a definite intensity behind it. his tongue has just swiped your bottom lip, entering your mouth when you remember that you're in public. you pull away and glance at the end of the aisle. the guy is gone. you glance at itadori. he is grinning triumphantly at you. you smile in spite of yourself, going back over to the cart. "yuuji?" he comes over, wrapping his arms around you and placing his head over your shoulder. "yes, my love?" "you got the wrong kind of rice." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ gojou satoru - a jealous gojou is not a good gojou. if you think he's annoying normally, it's about to get so, so, so much worse. ~ "satoru please!" you beg. you're feeling desperate now, there's no other way out. you two have gone to the park for a picnic to savor one of his rare days off. the spot you chose was warm and sunny with few people around; the day was supposed to be lovely. and it was, at least for a while. you had spent just the last hour cloud-watching, peacefully pointing out odd shapes in the sky. really though, you were just taking an excuse to lay on his stomach and talk. you two get so little time together like this that you try to savor every moment. however, in your analysis of a banana-shaped cloud far on the horizon, you noticed a familiar shape. the shape of your ex, to be precise. you stiffen, and gojou notices. "hey," he says. "what's wrong?" you don't respond immediately; your mind is swirling with schemes to avoid them. if you guys packed up now, could you go without being noticed? no, you were too close. could you hide? no, there wasn't anywhere to duck behind. you had to stop time somehow, but how? gojou waves his hand over your face. "hey? everything ok down there? have you gone into the void?" he asks. you start to glare at him, but then his words hit you in the face. the void. he can draw your ex into the void while you make a hasty getaway. you sit up, dropping your angry look and switching to a more saccharine one. "satoru," you start. "can you do a favor for me?" he gives you an easy smile. "of course, anything for you," he replies. "great, can you trap the person in the white shirt over there into the infinite void?" that certainly gets his attention. "i'm sorry, what?" he asks incredulously. "ok, so that's my ex over there. things ended kind of...awkwardly, and I just don't want to deal with this right now. could you trap them into the void before they notice me?" "i don't think the relationship was the thing that was awkward love. maybe you should just, you know, face the problem head on?" he suggests. "it can't be that bad. and even if it is, at least it'll be entertaining. actually, i'll give you two some privacy!" he says cheerfully, and promptly leaves. that brings you to your current predicament. you could be responsible and mature, but that would involve getting over your breakup. you may have slightly understated the awkwardness of the situation. truthfully, you got dumped and you pined over your ex for weeks afterward. you especially did not take it when when you were being broken up with. you begged them not to leave you while crying, making quite the scene in the restaurant they had chosen. now, with no lingering emotions, you just feel guilty and embarrassed for how you acted. but that was in the past, and you could move past that as long as it wasn't walking up to you. and now with gojou walking away, and them walking up...oh no. oh no oh no ohnonono. you take a deep breath in, and breathe out. i'm not the same person i was then, you think to yourself. this thought steadies your nerves; in fact, maybe gojou was right. you have been wondering what they’ve been up to, after all, and you might stop feeling guilty if you apologize. a bright and cheerful “hey!!” jolts you out of your thoughts; there they are. “hey,” you respond, a bit less cheerfully. you push yourself up off the ground to

greet them, and are a bit surprised when they pull you into a hug. it’s a more intimate hug than you would have guessed, with their hands snaking around your waist and gently cradling your head. they smell...nice, you think to yourself. as you pull away, you feel watched. you’re not sure from where, since you can’t see him, but you know gojou is watching you. well, good. he refused to help you out of this mess, so maybe you’ll make him suffer a bit. neither one of you say anything for a second.. “so….i guess how are you?” they ask you, smiling. “i’m great,” you reply. “how are you?” you ask. “good.” you stand there, neither one of you wanting to interrupt the delicate silence. “so,” you both say at the same time. you guys laugh, and just like that, the weird silence dissipates. “you go first,” they say to you. “well, i just want to say that i’m sorry. i know breaking up was probably hard for you, but i think i just made it harder by, you know, being unable to let us go. that was unfair to you and it definitely made things harder for me, so i’m really sorry about that.” “oh, wow,” your ex say, a bit surprised. “well, that sort of contrasts what i’m about to say. i was going to say that you were right.” huh? what? you furrow your eyebrows together, and stare back with a bemused expression. “i was right?” you venture. “about...what?” your ex sheepishly scratches the back of their head, giving you an embarrassed smile. “about us, i mean. you kept telling me that we were better together, and that we would only be unhappy apart. i know it’s been a while since we were together, but lately it’s all i can think about. i….still think i love you.” well, that was a bombshell. you just stare at them, stunned into silence. “sorry, i know that this is way too much for just meeting again; you just looked so beautiful and it reminded me of when we were together and i just miss being together and -- ah, i’m rambling like a crazy person now, aren’t i?” they wryly ask. you giggle. “just a bit,” you respond. they take your hands into theirs, tracing their thumb lightly over your skin. their eyes are honest, and their face is hopeful. “i know this is really sudden, but would you maybe want to get dinner with me soon? you don’t have to, of course, but…?” they pull one hand out, and drift it up to your face, caressing your jawline with such care that if you were not previously engaged, you might have melted into their arms right there. but you already had a boyfriend, even if he was an annoying one. you thought briefly about pretending to accept their offer, just to needle him, but decided against it. instead, you just kindly smiled at your ex, and pull their hand from your face. “this is really sweet,” you say. “but, unfortunately, i’m already taken.” their face falls, but they quickly mask it with a smile. “ah, i get it. someone as amazing as you would get snapped up fast. it was just my mistake to let you go,” they say, pulling back. “well, why don’t we start over with this. how about instead of a romantic dinner date, we just get coffee sometime. no love attached,” they add. “sure,” you respond. “i have been wanting to know what you’ve been up to.” “same here, how about tomorrow at 11?” they ask. “it’s a date!” you joke. “now, what’s a date?” you hear a familiar, slightly pouty voice from behind you. of course. why wouldn’t gojou appear at the worst possible time. you turn to your boyfriend, who has a shit-eating grin on his face. he’s planning something, but what? “hey ‘toru, this is my ex." you face your ex. "this is my boyfriend, gojou satoru." your ex smiles at him, blissfully unaware. "nice to meet you. we were just planning on getting some coffee soon." “oh, is that so? you’re not trying to steal my love away from me, are you?” there’s no threat in his voice, no hostility, but all the same your ex seems to pick up on his vexing energy and straightens up a little bit. “no, of course not,” they say. “hmmm, i believe you. but all the same, i could have sworn i heard talk of

a date. that reminds me love, weren’t we just finishing up on a date ourselves?” you sigh. “yes, we were.” turning to your ex, you turn back to say goodbye. that, however, is cut off by your lovely boyfriend picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. shocked, you pound your fists against his back. “gojou satoru, put me down right now.” gojou ignores you, instead sticking one hand out to shake your ex’s hand. “sorry to cut this short, but we simply must finish our date back at our place. wish i could invite you, but this is a more private activity.” he cheerfully states. mortified, you start kicking him and hitting him even harder. “ ‘toru! put me down so i can dump you right here and now!” “ahh, can’t have that now. we’d best get going so that someone learns a lesson, see you around!” with that and a quick sweep down to gather the picnic supplies, gojou carries you kicking and screaming out of the park. once outside, he puts you down. “satoru, what the absolute hell was that??? that was so embarrassing!” you cry out. “it was your idea to let me deal with that, and then you swoop in once it’s all taken care of? now they’re going to think i’m...i’m... i don’t even know what they’ll think of me, but i’m sure it won’t be positive!” “shhhh,” says gojou. “you might make a scene.” if you were mad before, well, now you’re apoplectic. “a scene???? i might make a scene?” you spit out seethingly. the entire way home, you tear into him for embarrassing you in front of your ex and an entire park full of people. finally, you get home and you drop the j-word. “and all this because you were just jealous??” now that you’ve dropped the threshold of your front door and pulled the trigger, gojou’s entire demeanor shifts. he drops the picnic supplies and picks you up again, but instead of going over his shoulder you’re now up against the wall. you instinctively wrap your arms and legs around him to keep from falling, skillfully intertwining your bodies together. his blindfold has slipped off, and now his piercing blue eyes are pouring into yours with a powerful intensity. your previous angry words slip off into the void, as you’re transfixed by the way he’s staring at you. he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, the tips of your noses just barely touching. “yeah,” he breathes. “i got jealous. i let an ex come up to you and try to take you away, and i only sat there and watched. i knew you would never cheat on me, but i just got annoyed with myself for encouraging that. you mean too much to me to just let you be taken by someone else, so i really wanted to get you out of there as fast as possible. so, yeah, i’m sorry for embarrassing you. let me make it up to you?” it’s hard to say no in this position, but you try to hold your resolve. “satoru, you just can’t do that. promise me you’ll never do that again?” he’s still looking at you with that seriousness, so he replies “yes” with uncharacteristic sincerity. there’s nothing out of character though about the way he moves in to kiss you though, full of desire and need. you fall into a steady rhythm, a sweet push-and-pull of dominance flicking between you two. gojou suddenly takes over, and just as suddenly, he pulls away and starts carrying you to the nearest flat surface. “let me show you how much you mean to me, yeah?”