#the first song i listened to this year yes ma’am!

[thepinkmermaidprincess]

you ask rafe girly questions from a girl magazine ♡

“this shit so stupid”,rafe said shaking his head.

“please baby,makes me happy”,you giggled as you sat on your knees in your fluffy pink bed.

rafe was settled against the headboard of your bed with his arm crossed and the cutest frown ever on his face.

“’kay ‘kay,go on dollie”

“ ‘kay….so question one : your bff is crying over a boy! you : a) taker her on a shopping spree,duh! b)offer to kill him c) get her fave ice cream & prepare to listen.”

you raise your head towards him waiting for his answer.

“you’re my best friend,why the fuck would you cry over a boy that ain’t me?”

“rafey,please!!!!!! answer seriously.”

“ i’ll kill him”

“ so answer b !” ( your face’s like 😊) you took your pink heart fluffy pen before writing his answer down on your notebook.

“ ‘kay, question two : there’s a huge party and you’re invited! you can’t wait to : a)shake it on the dancefloor b) coordinate stylish looks c)catch up with friends.”

“smoke with you on my lap.”

“huh….that wasn’t in the proposition...”

“b…i like when you match your lingerie color with my shit”

“oh rafey….you’re so cute”,you said getting on all fours to kiss him sweetly on the mouth.

he tried to deepen the kiss but huh huh…

“no no no,grumpy guy,there’s six questions left…sit down,look pretty and answer me”

“yes ma’am.” (🦋🦋)

“question three: pick a stylin’ way to complete an outfit-”

“why d’you talk with a british accent ?”

“shushhh….a) chanel necklace b) demonia boots or c) leg warmers.”

“the chanel one.”

“yay!!!! we matching”´you said touching the pink chanel necklace around your neck,rafe got it for you on your birthday last year.

“question four : your friends love you ’cause you : a) make them laugh b) aren’t afraid to be yourself c) are caring.”

“the second one. why the fuck would i be afraid to be m’self ?”

“exactly,you’re awesome!”

“awesome?okay kid.”

“whateverrrrr…question five : you’re most likely to : a)take a spontaneous trip to europe b)love horror movies c)volunteer at an animal shelter.”

“a…by the ‘way didn’t you say to sarah you wanted to go to italy ?”

“yes!!!!my dream”

“’kay…pack your shit for monday ‘kay ?”

you started screaming and jumping on your bed before jumping down on rafe’s lap.

“love you love you love you love you”,you started kissing his neck.

“mhm mhm….c’mon baby…there’s three questions left.”

“oh yeah…’forgot all about that…so question six : on valentines,you hope to receive from your partner : a) sephora giftcard b) a signed CD by your fave band c) a plushie & chocolates” , you giggled as took your magazine,your notebook and your pink pen. you knew rafe was never going to admit it but he liked answering your little questions ♡

“sex.”

“a plushie & chocolates!!!! such a good choice baby.”

“TGIF!how do you spend the weekend? a)hit up the city with your girls b) work on your project c)binge ghibli movies.”

“work on shit and listen to you whining that i don’t give you enough attention.”

“blah blah blah…last question : pick a perfect job : a) travel blogger b) fashion designer c) owner of a cozy cafe ”

“ceo.”

“baby..’still not in the propositions….”

“the cafe shit.”

“ ‘kay”

you reread all of his answers before checking in which girly universe does rafe belong in.

“you had 1 a) , 4 b) and 2 c) which means that you belong in monster high and bratz world!yay! so they say «creative is your best talent! you aren’t afraid to be yourself & stand out from the crowd. this makes your fashion-forward and ahead of your time! likely has great music taste» ”

“ ‘f course i’m ahead of my ‘time doll, i’m «awesome»”

“i agree with the quiz b’cause you’re such a brat”

“oh i’m a brat ? huh?…..get on your back i’ll show you how bratty i can be,kid”

hope u loved it ♡ English is not my first language so i apologize for any mistakes <3

based on the magazine by @d3monicas ♡ 🌸

(just a girly song i thought would maybe play in reader’s room)

[leclercdream]

maroon

this is part 2 of maroon

✮⋆˙ when carlos breaks reader’s heart, lando is ready to mend it

✮⋆˙ ex carlos sainz x singer!reader | bestfriend lando norris x singer!reader

✮⋆˙ warnings: cheating, carlos is an asshole, slut shaming

✮⋆˙ tofi talks: thanks for the love on part 1! one last part coming soon x please ignore dates

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

yourusername: my new album GOOD RIDDANCE out march 27! presave in my bio 💜

this project means a lot to me and i hope you love it as much as i do. i can’t believe this is my first full album!!

i also wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love you are giving to MAROON 🍒 i wrote this song at 3a.m. in my best friend’s room, crying my little pisces heart out and accepting that sometimes letting go is for the better. i never expected it to get big, it was just an outlet for me, so again, thank you a million times!

this one is for you, you know who you are.

view 839 comments

landonorris: woop woop landonorris: i’m so incredibly proud of you landonorris: please let me listen to the whole album :(

yourusername: not yet 🤍 lilyzneimer: babe CAN I? i just know a few of these are love songs. oscarpiastri: me too please x yourusername: sending u the link for tmr!!! user1: WHICH ONE ARE LOVE SONGS!????yourusername: i don’t kiss and tell x user2: BITCH ALDNWNS

maxverstappen: P is so excited to hear it!

yourusername: i will send you the link to the early listening party 💜

user3: carlos liking this 😥 the audacity this mas has user4: why is no one talking about the last part guys, is it for lando? carlos???

user5: its not always about them u know?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

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yourusername just posted a story

replies

landonorris: can’t wait to see you tonight landonorris: you look beautiful yourusername: lan 🥺 thank u love, got pretty for u!!! landonorris: i’m giggling and kicking my feet landonorris: think about what i told you yourusername: i already said yes lan 🤭

oscarpiastri: why is lando blushing? what did you do? yourusername: lol yourusername: he asked me out on a date and i said yes? 👉🏻👈🏻 oscarpiastri: KALSW SUAVW YN!!!! oscarpiastri: sorry lily took over oscarpiastri: that’s amazing tho, told you he likes you! yourusername: don’t you think it’s too soon? after everything that happened? :/ be honest oscarpiastri: nah, after what carlos did you are allowed to move on. plus if you listen carefully to your songs lando and you are long overdue yourusername: thank u osc 🤍 please take carlos out on the next race yourusername: kidding!!! (not) oscarpiastri: at your service (kidding) (not)

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lando.jpg

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, kellypiquet and others

lando.jpg: yourusername just finished the first leg of her tour looking beautiful as ever. in honour of new year’s day being played today you can have that picure we took drunk at said party

view 920 comments

user1: i thought this was a yn post lol

user2: the second picture i’m screaming!!! the fact that she was dating carlos at the time yet she always looked at him like that 🥺

user3: slut behaviour

oscarpiastri: i’m so normal about this

yourusername: my favorite photographer ever 🤍

yourusername: glad you could make it tonight!! let’s get a podium tomorrow so we can go home and rest

lando.jpg: yes ma’am

maxverstappen1: Did you do it?

landonorris: yes maxverstappen1: What did she say? landonorris: yes maxverstappen1: 🤝🏻👍🏻 user3: what is this user4: they have such a weird relationship i swear

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yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilymhe and ohters

yourusername: highnobiety thank you so much for having me! martietomanova shooting with you is a real rare joy. link in bio if you wanna read my interview taking about silly things and my new album! view 923 comments

user1: my jaw is on the floor

user2: lando must be loosing it rn lol about to risk it all

oscarpiastri: you are correct user2: nooo dont expose him lol

landonorris: asdjqenxf

landonorris: WHAT IS THIS

landonorris: YN???????

landonorris: please pick up the phone im so in love with you *deleted*

landonorris: GORGEOUS GORGEOUS WOMAN

landonorris: stop looking at her PLEASE im going insane

landonorris: you are the most beautiful human being on this whole world

yourusername: 🤭🤭 im blushing yourusername: see u soon? landonorris: YES landonorris: im picking u up RIGHT NOW landonorris: i would risk everything for you *deleted*

user3: anyone else saw lando’s deleted comments? boys down bad haha

user4: i love how as soon as she broke up with him he started showing he likes her lol long overdue

last part coming soon

taglist: @evie-119 @landossainz @noneofyallsbusiness @ladyblablabla @likedbygaslyy @softiecaro @1655clean @willowpains @lightdragonrayne if your name is crossed out i couldnt tag you

[gaysindistress]

Dial Drunk - part 2 of Fine Line

Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: angst and the feels oh and Peggy Carter slander

Word count: 2.1k words

Master list

Fine line 1 & Cocaine Jesus 3

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom​

a/n: I love a good song fic. Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan sponsors this fic so I highly suggest you listen to it.

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

“Son, is there someone I can call for you?” the Sheriff asks while half dragging and carrying a drunk Steve into the station. Under the dead weight of the mafia boss, the elderly Sheriff struggles to get them inside as the rain pelts them so hard, he’s expecting there to be bruises on both of them.

Steve mumbles something as his head lolls to the side but the other man cannot make out a single word or number for that matter. At the door, he waves to his deputies to him with the door and he all but drops Steve onto his younger deputies.

“Son, I don’t know your name. Where is your wallet or your phone?”

Steve shoves his hand into his coat pocket which sends all of them into high alert but it’s all false as he dumps the asked for items onto a desk. The Sheriff gets to work to figure out his name and find an emergency contact or anything at all that might be helpful.

“Alright, Mr. Rogers,” he announces as he types away at a computer, no doubt pulling up Steve’s criminal record as well as his contacts, “Should I call a Mrs. Margaret Carter Rogers? Is that still current?”

Steve scoffs at the name as he falls into a seat next to the Sheriff, “My own wife hates me.”

A deputy gives the Sheriff a look but he ignores it and calls the number nonetheless. Steve slumps back into the hard chair and drops his head back in attempts of sleeping off the horrendous hangover he’s going to have. The phone rings and rings, leaving him with just the dial tone as Peggy ignores the call. They try again but nothing happens. She ignores the call. They try a third time and finally she answers.

“Hello?” her accented voice wakes Steve.

“Hi is this Mrs. Margaret Carter Rogers?”

She snorts, “Not anymore. If this is about Steve, call someone else. I don’t care”

The dial tone replaces her voice and all of the officers look at each other in disbelief.

“Did… Did she just hang up?” the same deputy asks.

The sheriff clears his throat and brushes over his thick gray mustache as he thinks about what to do next.

“I told you she hates me,” Steve pipes up, “Wasted your time.”

“Is there anyone else we can call?”

He shrugs, “She won’t answer either.”

Behind them two deputies are whispering to each other about how wrong it was of Peggy to hang up but quickly stop when the Sheriff gives them a pointed look.

“Maybe SHE will answer. What’s her name and number?” He extends the phone out to Steve who drops it and has to slowly reach down to pick it up. It takes him longer than usual to open it and find the number of the woman whose house he practically ran from. After he left Y/N’s house, he found the nearest bar and drank the place out of anything that would numb the rejection pain. For ten years, he dreamed of nothing but seeing his girl again and when he finally did, his past decisions ruined any chance of a relationship with her again. For ten years, he resented Peggy, his father, his mother even and himself for not fighting harder for Y/N. For ten years, he regretted everything he had done and prayed that somehow he could go back in time to just be with her.

“Y/N hates me too.”

Still the sheriff dials the number and hopes that this mystery woman will answer the phone. It rings five times and they’re all beginning to think that this will be a repeat of the first call but she does answer.

Her voice is raw from crying but she answers, “Hello?”

“Hi ma'am, is this Y/n?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“Well ma’am, this is the Kings County sheriff department. I’m Sheriff Anderson. I have Steve Rogers here and he’s going to be held overnight in the drunk tank or you can come pick him up.”

“Shit, okay. Um…” there’s a long pause but they can hear her shuffling around, “I can be there in 45 minutes, is that okay?”

“Yes of course ma’am. We appreciate you answering the phone so late and coming right away.”

“Uh… yeah no problem I guess,” she mumbles something else but Steve doesn’t catch it.

Anderson motions to his deputies and has them take Steve to a cell while he waits. He’s half asleep and even heavier than before as they haul him into his own cell. Next to him is another lonely drunk stranger who was ignored and left to figure their shit out alone. Regardless he can’t be bothered to care and he shucks off his overcoat to use it as a pillow. Crossing his arms over his chest and his legs over each other, he settles into a short nap while he waits for Y/N. A part of him isn’t even sure that she is actually coming and he’s starting to convince himself that she never answered the door in the first place. She’s not coming to take him home…there's no home where they live together. There is no place where they love and support each other because he destroyed that when he married Peggy. Tears begin to grow heavy on his eyes but he won’t allow himself to cry over the past no matter how recent it might be.

He pulls his arms tighter across himself and rolls over so that his back faces outwards. With his face hidden, the tears start to fall against his will and he does nothing to stop them even though just moments ago he vowed that the past wouldn’t bother him. He doesn’t try to wipe them and lets the pain metastasize in his body, growing a tumor of emotions that can’t be cured by anything.

Time slips away from him as the memories and hurt wash over him. Anderson clears his throat to get Steve’s attention and starts to unlock the cell’s door.

“We took his keys so you can drive it home if you didn’t bring your own car,” Anderson says to Y/N.

She smiles and nods, taking the keys from him and clutching them as she stares at the sad excuse of a man laying on the bed. Steve wipes at his eyes and groans as he slides off of the hard jail bed. Shaking out his pillow coat, he puts it on before making eye contact with her. She sighes at him and thanks Anderson for all that he’s done even though it’s not procedure. When Steve stands, he sways and she’s quick to catch him, waving off Anderson who offers to take him. They don’t say anything to each other as she acts as his crutch and walk towards his car. She fumbles with the keys and drops them.

“Lean on the car,” she tells him as she bends down to pick them up, “Do you need my help getting in?”

He furrows his brow like a toddler, “No I can do it myself.”

Shaking her head at him, she unlocks the car and lets him struggle to fold his large body into the passenger side. She slides into the driver’s side and takes a deep breath. Never again did she think that she would dealing with Steve let alone driving his car as he’s almost black out drunk in the passagner seat.

He mumbles something along the lines of “It’s a remote start.”

Y/N hums her understanding and finds the button. It blinks to life and heavy metal music greets them at an unbearable volume. He whimpers at the noise and slams his hand onto the power button to turn it off as quick as he can. Satisfied that the offending noise has stopped, he curls into himself against the window and rests his head on the cool glass.

“Did you put your seat belt on?”

He answers by puling the belt over himself and clicking it into place.

She backs out of the spot and leaves the Sheriff’s station behind. Silence fills the space around them as the street lights and porch lights pass through the window. The lights splash across her face and unbeknownst to her, Steve is stealing glances at her through the window’s reflection. What little he can see of her breaks his heart even more as he can see the fatigue and hurt tense in her features. Her hair, usually styled and pristine, has been hastily clipped up with a claw clip that’s holding on for dear life. Under the long winter coat she’s wearing is just a pair of pj pants and a white crop top. She’s not even really wearing shoes but instead a pair of worn down clogs that should only be worn inside. Seeing how vulnerable she is, he can’t help himself grow protective and upset that she left in such a hurry.

“I hope you drove,” slips out albeit slurred.

“What?” she asks, quickly looking over at him.

“I said I hope you drove.”

“Why does it matter?”

“Do you see what you’re wearing?”

She blinks and scoffs at him, “I just picked your drunk ass up at 2 am and you want to lecture me about my clothing choices.”

“That’s not what I….”

She cuts him off, “Stop. You’re sleeping on the couch and I expect you to be gone when I wake up.”

“Honey.”

“Don’t. I already made myself clear earlier; I want nothing to do with you. I should’ve left you at the stupid station,” she mumbles the last part to herself but he still hears it and sews his mouth shut. The rest of the car ride back to her house is quiet aside from the normal noise of the car and the city.

She wants to regret hurting him with her words but she can’t find it in herself to care anymore. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or the petty side of her that strives to inflict as much pain as she can onto him. He did deserve it after all and he’s not protesting at least out loud.

Internally he wants to confess his undying love for her but he knows she won’t care and it won’t change her mind. He does deserve all of her hate and anger. It’s all just no matter how harsh it might be.

Steve keeps stealing glances of her in his window’s reflection and accepts the heartache it induces. Her house comes into view and he can feel her relax when it does. She pauses before fully pulling it and has the garage door open to hide his car from sight in it.

Once inside, she turns it off and waits for the door to shut completely before getting out. Steve watches as she kicks her shoes off and takes off her coat, leaving her in her thin pjs. He climbs out and does the same as her. Following her inside, she instructs him to sit at the island like before while she goes to get him blankets and pillows.

His eyes find the Polaroid again and the memories replay again. The sound of Y/N dropping a stack of bedding brings him around again.

“Here’s a couple blankets and a pillow. Don’t worry about folding them, I'll have to wash them.”

She turns to leave but he calls out softly and stops her, “thank you.”

Her hand rests on the wall beside her and she drops her head to rest on it.

“Why do you do this to yourself?”

“I want you back. I want YOU.”

She faces him again, “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to make a reappearance and magically everything goes back to how it was.”

Steve pushes off and is before her in a few short strides. He gently holds her face in his warm hands and refuses to let go even though she tugs lightly at his wrists.

“Give me another chance. Please honey, just one more chance,” he begs her as he touches his forehead to hers. Y/N’s eyes flutter closed and her breathing grows shallow, hot breath brushing against his face.

He nudges her head back and ghosts his lips over hers, waiting for her to push him away. When she doesn’t, he captures her lips in a slow and intimate kiss. Everything he’s felt over the last 10 years is flooding her as he moves his lips over hers. Every promise he’s made to himself in her name is conveyed as he sighed against her lips.

She’s the first to pull away and is shaking her head when she does so.

“No.”

[xsapphirescrollsx]

Dominion

Written: Oct 17 2023

Just a lil story I wrote today. I haven't written in some time. I hope you enjoy it! I wrote this story to this song ^.^

@titty-teetee <3

The best lie ever told about them was that the sun kills. But that falsity never really affected your life, mostly. You moved through levels of society like you ruled the night, and told the sun when to rise. Your mother called you aloof, a lazy rich girl- that is if anybody outside your kinship actually knew only you pretended poverty. You didn’t need to wear a disguise like the rest of them. There was a permissive, creeping, effortless prowling that came to you naturally. You wanted to fit in, but that was like a cat feigning to be a mouse and you never outgrew that proclivity. 

And it was this attitude that made you catch hell from your sister and father when you showed up late. The building was in the shitties part of town. Barrels burned with stank garbage for warmth as you stepped out of the alley opposite. Forty floors of culture they said. Consequently hidden by poor souls soothing and numbing their bashed spirits the best they knew how, drugs. They weren’t even worth eating.

Thin black sling backs lightly tapped as you walked across the street, onto the cement sidewalk and toward the farthest left front door. Puffs of snow gathered in the corners of the brick pocket near the door. You glanced again and on closer inspection a body lay there, away from the fires out front but you kept walking.

Past the dirt covered, shabby peeling wallpaper and rusted gates separating the inside of the building from the outside grunge. You were buzzed in and immediately approached by Mer’gene, a friend, well one of the people in this world who has known you the longest besides your mother.

“You are not dressed appropriately,” she hissed and stared at the thin black shawl you wore.

Your eyes rolled from her prim expression to the crowd in the foyer that was beginning to thicken like coagulating platelets. 

“It’s busy tonight,” you half said to her, but more to yourself.

Mer’gene glanced that way, “Yes, they want to pick who’s going to be President of the United States tonight. All the Elders are here….like your forefather.”

At the mention of Charlemagne you began to peel off the shawl and handed it to Mer’gene. “Well we can’t let him get in the way of a little fun.”

Passing through the foyer you followed the flow of people dressed in their best. Opulent comes to mind once you set eyes on the familiar market. What should have been a lobby for an apartment building was lined with shops, stacked on top of other shops. Bright lighting from eternal fire flames atop of metal poles lit your way. The direct opposite of what was being the brick outside, here, inside was spotless, clean and smelled of incense. 

You window shopped for the most part, just listening to Mer’gene talk about everybody and nothing at the same time as you imagined owning a five thousand year old human leather purse. A normal Wednesday night.

A pop and flash came from somewhere on the fourth floor shops. You ignored it at first and chalked it up to a grieving kin who decided to self immolation. A scream, shrieked inhumanly into the air. All stopped and turned toward the sound. It was an alarm. It was a call to evacuate and didn’t have to be told twice. 

Once again you were ushered out with the crowd toward an exit that emptied out into an alley. Bright daybreak rose over the galvanized fence to the east in the grimy alley. Beyond it police cars lined the street, a smile began to crease your lips. A bushy haired man in a sweater and his badge clipped on his hip near his gun stood. 

There he was.

Outside on the streets in this location had you looking wholly out of place. But it didn’t stop you from approaching the cops. Innocently you gazed around, swayed in your step, maybe applied phony little hiccups. That caught his attention, god you were great at pretending weakness. 

“Ma’am, what made you think you could cross that yellow tape?” the man pointed back behind you but choosing not to look you stared at him forcing your eyes to dilate in the morning light. “Are you on somethin’?” he questioned again. 

You stepped forward, attempted to speak and promptly fainted. 

“Shit,” you heard him say as he caught your waist. 

“You got that one?” said another cop's voice. “She looks thick, might hurt your back.”

You made note of that remark and silently vowed to see what he tasted like - later.

“No I got her. She’s probably a rich asshole hopped up on something. I’ll take her back to the SUV.”

The man dragged you the best he could around the waist as you completely let yourself dead weigh him. One car, four cars, and finally around the corner away from the crime scene you heard the door open as he still struggled with your body. So you decided to start slurring your words and reacting to be held by a ‘stranger’.

“Let me go you fuckin’ bastard,” you spit out, wiped your mouth and struggled to stand. “You took me out here! You said we would have a great time…” you began to cry a bit to make it look convincing. 

The cop pushed you into the back seat and slammed the door. You leaned against the door and watched him walk around the front. His head pivoted while his eyes seemed to look for people who might be watching. You shut your eyes as he opened the door and got in the back seat with you. 

You breathed lightly as if you were sleeping.

“Did you get your self drugged?” he asked quietly. 

Your non beating heart would've jumped if it was alive at the insinuation. 

You felt him move closer and move his arm over the back of the seat. His other hand was on your knee.

Suddenly he was closer to your face, your ear. “Hey. Hey are you awake?” he whispered. His hand began to caress up your thigh.

A dirty cop! You felt yourself begin to get wet. 

“You’re in safe hands sweetheart,” his lips murmured on your cheek. He moved his hand from your thigh. He grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on the hard chub underneath his jeans. 

“How’s that feel?” He forced your hand to continue to rub him. “Slutty little bitch on the streets, huh?” he croaked.

Your teeth pricked the inside of your cheek. Fuck it, you couldn’t hold out any more.

“It feels like I need to make you mine,” you opened your eyes and stared back at him completely lucid. Your lips drew back over the sharp canines in a lovely, perfect smile.

----

....to be continued?

[p-perkeys]

Laura and Elixir and why I shipped them:

First, have you heard the song No One Does It Better by You Me At Six? Was obsessed with them around the time I first read this. Such a JoshxLaura song. Especially love the part where he sings “no one does it better” in the background underneath the “if I just save you”. Logan’s slogan (and Laura’s) “I’m the best there is at what I do.” It just works. Listen to it while you look at these scans and I swear you’ll ship them too. Lmk if you get the lore.

First - THE CHILL BUMPS? I wish I could rewind 12 years and read this for the first time again. Logan’s “It’s inside her” and the way Choi mastered the look of absolute pain on Laura’s face… STOP.

The way she completely hates herself… and she’s so nonchalant about it. “The mission is —“ NO MA’AM.

Logan caring. Love this. “Somebody fucking get to Laura!!” - I can hear his voice and it gives me chills. The panic is felt through the pages. I like to imagine he starts to realize how bad off she is here.

“Yes.” With the thousand yard stare. She’s thought about this for her whole life. ❤️‍🩹

THISSSSSSSSSSSS. “But now I know why I’m here. To save you.” FUCKING QUIT ITTTTTTTTTT. “… let me try.” LET YOU TRY?? AHHH.

He did it. ❤️‍🩹 He wanted her to stay so bad. FUCK. Craig Kyle and Chris Yost aimed for the heart. 😭😭😭

So yeah. The only boy I ship Laura with because he’s the only one who’s proven himself worthy. He actually cared. Like with his heart.

[bruisedboys]

congrats on 3k ml, so so proud of you, you deserve it and so much more! and if i haven’t said this sooner, i’m in love with your account and your writing is gorgeous, you’re just so incredibly talented, and aerial too <3

I was wondering if I could have KNIVES OUT please? i’ve been in a bit of a rut lately, not really feeling the best all of a sudden and was thinking of something comfort related with pete. maybe something with breathe (muse a holds muse b closely to help them wind down after a stressful day/event) and possibly with a bit of o4 (sender offers receiver an earbud to share their music), maybe as a way to say that they’re there for them without having to say the words and that they’re here to listen when they’re ready to talk?

thank you so much for considering my request and take your time. congratulations again on yet another milestone!

thank you for your request lovely! this was such a good one I loved writing it. and I hope u feel better soon angel!!! x

summary: peter helps you feel better after a bad day

gn!reader 0.9k words

You’re close to tears by the time you get to Peter’s. It’s been a hard day. Your heart hurts and your mind is tired and your body is unfortunately taking the toll. Your limbs ache and your head pounds. Plus, it’s raining, which never helps.

You let yourself in because he gave you a key months ago, along with a little spiderman keyring that you think is simultaneously awful and adorable. At least it makes you smile every time you look at it.

You shed your jacket and shoes at the door, hang your bag on the hook he’d added for you next to his. You can hear him in the kitchen, cutlery and pots and pans jostling around.

“Peter?” You call.

No response, but you think you can hear him humming. He must have his earbuds in.

You make your way to his tiny kitchen, with its overgrown plants that have managed to claim the entire windowsill, and the colourful mismatch of mugs collected over years of thrift shopping. Sure enough, Peter’s stirring something that smells like tomato soup at the stove, earbuds lodged in his ears, the wire threaded under his shirt and into his jeans pocket. He’s humming a song, head bopping as he stirs, and it makes your heart smile.

“Hi, Peter.”

Peter starts, then relaxes when he sees it’s you. A smile stretches across his face like a sunrise. Slow and beautifully warm and golden. He puts down his wooden spoon and takes out his earbuds, letting them dangle over his shirt collar.

“Y/N,” he says, and the way he says your name makes your chest ache. Like he was meant to say it. Like it’s his favourite word in the world. Like maybe he loves you more than you or him can even comprehend. “Hi, honey. I didn’t hear you come in.”

The corner of your mouth lifts in the whisper of a smile. “It’s okay,” you shrug. You peer at the rich red substance on the stove. “Is that tomato soup?”

Peter grins. “Yes, ma’am. I thought we’d have that and grilled cheese.” He strides across the floorboards until he’s right in front of you. You’re suddenly overwhelmed by how lovely and homely he looks. With his soft blue t-shirt, his hair all mussed, freckles glowing in the warm kitchen light. He smells like tomato and garlic and butter. He takes your face in one hand and drags his thumb over your cheekbone. “What d’you think?”

You almost forget what he was talking about in the first place. You blink, overwhelmed by his closeness, by the presence of him. He feels very safe. Safer than you’ve felt all day.

“Sounds good,” you say weakly. You know you sound funny. It hadn’t meant to come out that way, but you were already feeling bad and he’s come along and been so lovely that all of it combined is gonna make you cry.

Peter smiles again, and dips his head to kiss your forehead. His warmth is intoxicating. You want to hug him so badly it hurts. He pulls away, his hand still at your jaw, and he must catch the look on your face because his eyes are suddenly all concern.

“Are you okay?” He asks, suddenly a little bit urgent. “You look sad. You’re not sick, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. Um, no, I’m not sick. I just, um.” You swallow. It’s hard to tell him, because you don’t want to ruin how happy he is. But you know he’d want you go tell him the truth. “I had a hard day today.”

Peter melts, makes a pitying noise that’s so nice your chest hurts. He takes your face in both hands now, and steps closer so his arms are lodged between your chests.

“Aw, baby. Why didn’t you call me, hm? I’d’ve picked you up earlier.”

You try to shake your head again but it’s hard when he’s got his hands all over your face.

“Pete, it’s okay,” you tell him. “It wasn’t anything in particular, really.” You shrug. It’s hard to explain, but you know he’s always patient with you so you don’t try to explain it all now. “I’m just happy I’m here now.”

Peter smiles at that. It’s pretty in its softness. Gentler than the big grins he gives you when you make a joke. Soft as warm butter. “I’m happy you’re here, too. Hey, you can stay that night, if you’d like. Would you like to?”

Just the thought of it makes you want to cry. He’ll probably talk to you later tonight about your day, help you get to the root of the problem and then work through a solution with you. He’s good at that.

“Yeah, I’d love to,” you say, desperately trying not to give in to the growing urge to cry. Only, now you don’t know if it’s because you’re sad or happy. “That’d be nice.”

Peter hums as he drags his thumbs under your eyes, his skin calloused against the soft, velvety, skin there. He studied your face for a moment. Then,

“You want a hug?”

You smile. He knows you too well. “Yeah, please.”

He hugs you so tight it’s almost hard to breathe. Then he lets you share his earbuds and he puts on your favourite song while you stir the soup and he cooks up two grilled cheese in the pan. The earbud wire stretches dangerously and they fall out of your ears every two seconds, but it’s worth it to be next to him.

It’s safe to say your bad day is saved.

-

[gbee-writes]

A Star Shines

Epilogue

---

“Play us a song!”

Kantus stopped in the doorway at the demand. When he turned back around Bratha was sitting up again, which unfortunately meant that the other three were following suit.

An exasperated smile pulled Kantus’s lips. He should have known they wouldn’t let him forget.

“Alright, but you must go to sleep after I play.”

The children were quick to agree to his terms.

After tucking them all back in, Kantus pulled out his violin and made sure it was in tune before pulling the bow across the strings. Music filled the air and warmth flooded his chest as Moa pulled Nich in closer.

He planned on playing one song and returning to the others but Kantus couldn’t bring himself to stop. His children dozed off one by one. It wasn’t until Nalluk was sleeping soundly that he let his hands fall.

“Ye cannae tell’em no when they ask fer it, can ye?” Des slid her arms around his shoulders, resting her head beside his. Her tone was so caring it hurt. She must have slipped into the room sometime during his songs.

Kantus leaned into her. “No, I simply do not have the heart to refuse them. How can I, when they look so sad when I do?”

Des hummed lightly. Together they watched the children sleeping for a quiet moment. Kantus couldn’t help the swell of affection and joy he felt. His chest seemed close to bursting.

“Sometimes I wonder if this is how my mother felt looking upon Jekle and me.”

“I ain’t doubtin it.” Des murmured. “From what I hear she loved ye more than anythin.” As Kantus leaned into her he felt her lips brush his cheek. He turned his head so they could kiss. “Ye head up an get some air ‘fore bed, aye?”

“Yes ma’am.” Kantus gave her another kiss before slipping quietly from the room.

Up on the deck he spotted Yewle at the railing watching the last rays of sunlight fade away. Her hair ruffled in the wind. She didn’t seem to mind the chill it surely brought.

As he approached she glanced over. A warm smile greeted him closer and  Kantus rested his arms on the railing next to her. They stayed in comfortable silence until the sun was hidden in it’s wait till the morning, listening to the waves lapping the side of the ship rhythmically. He could never stop loving that sound.

“Can you believe how much has changed since that day?”

He looked over to her. Yewle almost couldn’t be recognized as the same woman she had been. After all she truly wasn’t. Her gentle features had weather hardened, perfect complexion marred by scars and marks. Most ladies of her standing would have been horrified. Yewle wore the experience as a mark of pride.

But that was only her looks, and her looks very well reflected how she had grown inside as well.

“Do you recall the first dual you were in?” Kantus chuckled.

“Oh goodness Kantus, don’t you dare remind me of that.”

His shoulder shook with the effort of keeping his laughter down. “After only three lessons-”

“I challenged someone; I was swiftly shown my place.” Yewle made a face at him, doing nothing to help the amusement.

“You had the enthusiasm!”

“And the foolhardiness. I truly don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I’m not sure you were.”

Yewle leaned back and crossed her arms. “I thought quite a bit actually, simply not about anything but my fantasies.” After a moment where Kantus couldn’t hold his laughter anymore she rolled her eyes. “Are you done dredging up my past blunders? I have plenty of yours to return the favor if not.”

He chuckled himself into silence. “Oh I’m sure you do. I would love to trade them but I believe it’s time for me to tuck in. Do get some rest soon as well.”

He gave her a friendly pat on her arm before returning to the captain’s quarters. Des was already snoring as he stepped in the room. A warm hum fell from his lips at the sight.

Her arms were hugging a pillow close, her cheek squishing in a deeply charming manner. Kantus found that her rough and earthly beauty was something so deeply alluring, even after all their years together.

There were nights Kantus would lie awake and trace every scar on her face. Each one of them told a story, each one led her to become the woman he had married.

He was quick to changing into his nightclothes. When he climbed into the bed next her Des grunted and with a heaving twist she rolled around to latch onto him instead of the bedding.

She released a deep breath before going back to snoring. Kantus wrapped his arms around her and was quickly drifting off into peaceful slumber.

---

A deep yawn pushed from Jekle’s chest. The candle was nearly down to an unusable stump as he sifted through more papers. He was certain it was beyond a point where he should have been awake, and he hadn’t planned on being up so late, but a few more pages sorted out wouldn’t hurt.

“My darling,” Jekle jolted at the voice. He turned to the door where Ston was waiting. “It’s late.”

He sighed as he turned back to the papers. “I’m nearly finished. I’ll be in bed short-” Ston’s arms wrapped around his waist and caused him to falter.

“It’s late.” The whisper broke his resolve. Jekle gathered the papers in a neat stack before blowing out the candle. All his exhaustion became much more noticeable as Ston led him back to their bedroom.

It was strange to him that the small, homey room was far more comfortable than his room at the manor ever had been. Maybe it was the lack of danger, or the freedom from overostentatious decor, maybe it was the joy of who he had the delight to share it with. Whatever it was Jekle found himself relaxing further there.

He waited until Ston was comfortably laying in bed before crawling in himself and curling to his husband's side. A contented hum spilled from his lips. Ston pulled him somehow closer. "When did they say they would return?"

"Hmm," Jekle slipped his eyes closed. "Less than a fortnight, weather permitting."

"Are you excited? Their children will want to play with us all hours."

A smile pulled up the corner's of Jekle's mouth. He loved his neice and nephews no matter how ragged they ran him. When he had found out that Des was pregnant he had celebrated nearly as much as Kantus and reasured his brother in his worries about fatherhood.

Little Bratha was a wonderful blessing. Kantus was just as doting a father as Jekle had predicted, wrapped around the babe's little finger.

And of course after getting over the momentary surprise at their sudden appearance, Jekle had welcomed the two slave boys they'd saved with wide open arms. He had happily done the same when Nalluk had been brought into Des and his brother's brood. The Star's old crew had quite a time teasing them about inheriting Cabern's children aquirement habbits.

Jekle hummed again. "I am quite excited for their return. I wish to spoil the children rotten before they grow too big for such things."

"They could be ancient and you would still spoil them." Ston countered with a light prod to Jekle's side. He let out a chuckle as he half-heartedly tried to pull away from it.

After Bratha had been born they had decided to speak about whether they wanted children too or not. Both of them decided their niece and nephews was enough, a choice that would have Jekle's father rolling in his grave, he was sure.

If his father was in a grave that is.

Jekle idly wondered if Kantus also questioned how Toun was doing. Perhaps not, given how Kantus was treated far worse than he had been. Lonette also crossed his mind from time to time but he was much less invested in what had happened to her after the failed wedding. She barely spoke with him after all. Not unless she had found a quality to heckle out of him.

"Darling?"

"Hmm?"

"You're thinking of them again, aren't you?" Jekle sighed at the question.

"Yes," He said rather bluntly. "I struggle to help it sometimes. I am aware of their transgressions against Kantus and I but..." Another sigh. "Curiosity is a strong motivator. I often wonder if Father would be proud of me."

Ston placed a kiss to his brow. "I know it is not the same but Cabern is proud of you, as am I, and your brother."

Despite how different that was, hearing it did make Jekle feel slightly better. All those years ago when the new boards on the Star had met Cabern and the rest of the old crew they had been welcomed in as if they had been part of the family since the beginning.

Going from Father's strict upbringing to being gently nurtured by Cabern was...jarring. It wasn't a surprise when Jekle found himself viewing the man as something of another father figure. Kantus had clearly done the same, to a much more prominent degree. He would often refer to Cabern as "Cappa" like all of the retired captain's other children did.

Jekle let out a thoughtful hum. As sleep pulled his mind down he hoped, not for the first time, that Toun had allowed himself to heal and become better.

---

It was such a beautiful evening. Birdsong filled the garden air and a soft breeze rustled the leaves. Toun breathed in the perfumes of the flowers with a smile. It was bittersweet but that was why he loved his walks after tea.

Walking down his normal path was slower than when he first had the garden reverted to the last arrangement Essaira had it in, with his reliance on the cane he had aged into, but that simply meant more time to reflect. Without Lonnette’s constant changes the plants had grown to a beautiful maturity Toun had sorely missed.

He ambled past the great willow tree, one of the few things his now remarried ex-wife hadn’t touched, and seated himself upon the bench he’d had installed. 

“Hello Kantus,” Toun murmured to the figure across from him. It wasn’t truly his son, and that fact made him ache horribly, but the stone statue would simply have to be enough. 

“I’m having a lovely day. My apprentice has taken so well to the tasks, I fear I don’t have much left to teach him. I was unneeded in doing paperwork and as such he insisted I returned home to rest.”

The statue was silent as always. Dappled lighting danced across Kantus’s carved features, drawing the eye to his carefree smile.

The figure curved in a faux turn, swaying to silent music it played from the marble violin held gently in its hands. It was a memory, a glimpse at the last time he had heard his son play. Toun had been quite proud of the artist for capturing Kantus so well.

“I do hope you’ve had a good day as well.” Toun pulled himself back to his feet. As he made to continue his journey he turned back. “Please return home soon. I miss you, I miss your melodies.”

He trailed past a few bushes, a flower bed, and found himself at a fountain. In the center was a decorated column. The relief carved into the rock was of Jekle in a lovers embrace with his servant.

Toun had only learned the young man’s name after he had lost them. An ache grew in his chest. Ston had deserved better. 

He remembered how Jekle had tried to convince him of letting them marry: the way his son described the boy. His eyes had lit up in a way Toun hadn’t seen in years.

The carver had been instructed to have wedding bands showing on their fingers. Perhaps they never got to marry. Toun so very much hoped they had. Jekle had the same love-struck gaze that Toun had proudly wore when he had his Essaira with him.

“I’m so sorry, I should have given you both a chance.” He let out a weary sigh. “If you’ve stayed with each other I pray your lives together went better than mine and your mother’s. I pray you get to grow old together...”

The wind whispered past. What secrets did it hold? Toun would probably never know, but he would listen all the same.

“Sir!” Toun turned to a servant rushing towards him. “You have guests, sir.”

Toun’s brows rose. “I do?”

“Yes sir, they are waiting in the tea room.”

He nodded. Odd that someone would visit. It had become a rare occurrence after being shamed so horridly all those years ago. Not that he held any grudges upon his sons. No, he understood their need to escape quite well.

Further adding to his confusion, the sounds of rowdy children met him at the tea room doors. Who did he know that would bring their children?

As he reached for the handle another voice came through and-

“Bratha please, the drapes will not hold your weight like the rigging.”

Was it? It had to be! The voice held a seasoned undertone it hadn’t before but it was unmistakable!

Toun flung the door open faster than intended, slamming it against the wall. The room went silent. His eyes were graced with Kantus mid-way at pulling a young boy off his curtains, Des sitting at the table with two more young boys, and a young lady seemingly either attempting to help Kantus or distract him.

A cough drew his attention to the second table where Jekle and Ston sipped tea, sitting almost inappropriately too close. Wedding bands glinted on their hands.

Both of his sons had grey peppering in their hair, but only Kantus had a beard. The boy in Kantus’s arms was clearly his own son, sharing his eyes and a birthmark under his right eye. The two boys with Des and the young girl shared her darker skin tone and general features but in a way that made it clear she was not related. They held no visual traits that matched Kantus at all. However, it was clear from the way Des protectively leaned towards them that blood or not, they were considered her children.

Kantus had children. He was a grandfather. Jekle and Ston had been able to marry. Tears blurred Toun’s vision as he processed the sight. A smile pushed through his shock. 

“Boys...” The breathy whisper broke the tension and a warmth he hadn’t felt in decades filled the room. “You’re home.”

First | Previous | Next   Chapter-list   Master-list

---

Please click the art for quality, I didn’t spend the time I did on these for tumblr to do me dirty this way.

@cinnabarmint

@givethispromptatry

[heavenzscent]

WIP: WORKING TITLE:

SURPRISE

Rating: M Ship: jeankasa

Authors Note:  This is Canon Divergenent The island is more developed.  Their was none of that Zeke genocide mess.  Erwin is still alive.  They are a bit dysfunctional in this one. But they are young and hot headed.

September \ 21 years old

In a daze Mikasa lifted her head gathering in simi-familiar surroundings. The Mid-wife arrived before the panic could set in upon the moment of her registering the soreness in her lower-half. 

“Mamas awake.” The older woman sing songed with the baby swaddled in her arms now wearing a little pink crocheted cap. 

Her baby. Her daughter. She was real, it hadn't been a dream. 

The last seven months were full of their ups and downs, the three hours of labor and who knows how long she had slept. She felt as though she had been hit by a locomotive. 

Mikasa greedly took her daughter into her arms. She was just as she remembered she thought as she took off the cap to look at her baby girls hair. It was light. Not quite blonde but light brown that had a sort of honeyed tone about it alot like her fathers. 

Tracing the downy hair upon her daughters hair she admired its surprising thickness. It reminded her of a newly born chick but upon the thought panic also alrose. This child in many ways was just if not more delicate then a chick. She could not see much or even move on her own. 

“Ma’am do you need anything. You need to let me know. It’s the strong and prideful who always get the most damaged in my experience.” 

“Do you- “ The Mid-wife whos name she hadn’t bothered to ask handed her a glass of water. “Thank you. Do you have a telephone, by any chance?” 

“Yes. I thought it would be a good idea to get one considering my profession.” She wheeled over a night stand that held a telephone with a ridiculously long cord while muttering about being the first on her block to own one.  

With her left hand she grabbed her phone. The Mid-wife looked as if she wanted to step in but she knew better and watched anxiously as Mikasa maneuvered the rotary dial with one hand and balanced the receiver upon her shoulder. 

After a couple wary glances the woman got the hint and walked out the room to give Mikasa her privacy. She felt so utterly horrible and ungrateful watching the older woman retreat from the deliver room that was in her own home to give Mikasa privacy while she used the womans telephone. 

“Hello, Could I please be connected to Jean Kirstein.” 

The operator got right to work and the dial hummed once again and quickly the clicking of the answered telphone brought a sense of relief to nerves she didn’t even know she had. 

“Hello?” He sounded sweet over the phone. Onyonkopon would consistently joke that they all answered phones like children whatever that meant. 

“Jean. Hello are you busy.” 

“I have the day off.” 

“Good good. Youve been so busy you deserve the rest.” 

“Is everything okay? You sound off.” 

“Yes of course.  It’s just-” Mikasa didn’t quite know how to break the news. “I had the baby and I -I know things aren’t- ” 

“Where are you.” He interrupted his defensive tone completely gone replaced by urgency that was uncharacteristic for a soldier. 

“Jinae.” 

“What the fuck are you doing out -” 

“I was going to Dauper so that Sasha Mam could help  while i prepared but the little one-” 

“How are you both doi-” Neither of them could seem to finish a sentence.

“Well, She’s sleeping righ-” 

“She. A girl we- you had a girl.”  His voice the same pitch as when they learned that she was expecting. “I’ll be their by 3 pm okay.” 

The line silent. She wondered how much he had head that sound during the last 7 months. The silent hallway while she diligently sat still on the other side. All the unanswered calls. 

She oculdn’t feel sorry for long. Her baby girl was stirring. 

The midwife must have been listening at the door because she bussled in once the baby girl began stirring. 

Feb.  20 years old 

She needed to finish this. Levi was behind Eren and Armin was waiting for the signal. They just needed to hold off the invaders long enough to help the civilans get to the forests and then it was safe then she could shoot the flare and Armin could put an end to this battle. 

She could feel her legs turn to jello and the world shift about although she was firmly planted upon the rooftop waiting to strike the Marleyans pathway with thunderspears. 

Jean who was with Sasha and Connie was currently cutting off all the paths to keep them away from the civilans and lead them to her. 

“How’s it lookin’ on your end?” Sashas staticed voice blared from her hand radio. 

She still couldxn’t get used to all the new advancements. It was like magic really. Being able to communicate via sound so far away with invisible waves of air. No matter how much Armin explasined she couldn’t think past magic much like Titans. 

“The civilans are thinning out. The men are behaving and the woman and children are almost all past the treeline.OUT.” 

“Okay, the only civians in the north are men who are fighting too.” Jean buzzed through the radio.

Within the dizziness she felt heavy as well as though she had stopped spinning along with the world. She didn’t want Jean mixed up in all the gunfire. 

She took a deep breath. Today wasn’t the day to be caught by a surprise attack and from Marely no less. They where lucky that the titans where caught up in more distinct battle fronts and that their seemed to be only normal foot soldiers present. Even then Mikasa couldn’t help but think of Onyonkopon and the volunteers people who had been conquered and forced to fight for Marley. Who much Onyonkopons had they killed tonight? Hostages and good men caught between a rock and a hard place. 

She must have eaten something odd this countries food was delusions full of sweet and spicy flavors that she hadn’t had anywhere else. Niccolo had sent her and Jean off with a list of ingredients to pick up in case they happened to visit a market. All day she had felt off and the days before tired but everyone had been tired not used to changing time zones and traveling so far through boats, trains and automobiles. 

The radio wrong with many of her comrades stationed at check points confirming their blocks where clear followed by Green sparks lighting the night sky. 

She put down the feeling and focused on her feet then on the wind on her face and let the bombs tain down. She should have remembered to wear a mask she could feel her face burning and the scent on the military automobiles burning with their bodies and the oils and gasoline and whatever atrtocities they used for war on this damned continent was finally enough to take her over the edge. 

She watched as the contents of her stomach which hadn’t been much since she had been sick in bed most the dayfell into the inferno below. An added insult to injury almost. She could her the wires and the grappling hooks of ODM coming closer. 

She couldn’t let them see her like this. She was supposed to be the strongest. They would think she couldn’t handle the carnage. She continued swinging even as pile continued to trickle down her chin even when she could just open her mouth for a deeper breath and souir and hot stomach accid would escape from her mouth. 

Amongst the bombs and the noise it was all so warm. Being a soldier had never been her dream and she didn’t itch for battle but the warmth of the battlefield kept her going. It reminded her to listen to her instincts. 

Anything but the paralyzing cold.

She took in another deep breath through her nose opening her mouth seemed futile and the smoke was beginning to curl up high in the buildings only serving to choke her. 

“MIKASSAAA!” 

If she wasn’t so focused on staying in the air she would have rolled her eyes even swung the other way.

Jean swung past her and quickly was right behind her. 

“Go to the top of the building. It’s clear.” He ordered. 

“I’m Fine.” 

“I'm your commanding officer, that's an order.” He had never used that tone of authority  with her but she should have expected it. He had wanted to evacuate since she had been ill all day. Still she wasn’t one of the green recruits she was… well she was… she was his…. She was his equal. 

She followed him up wards towards the old colosseum. The air was clearer and she felt less like she was being smothered but still vomit dripped down from time to time now free from competing with the smothering smoke. 

Feeling lighter as though she could fly she let go just let herself propel forward with pure momentum. 

She was as light as a feather.” 

A hard body came crashing opposite to her forcing more bile that couldn’t fathom being left within her out. 

She familiar long brown hair the scent of cooked meat it was Eren freshly out of his titan. 

He placed her down upon reaching the rooftop along with Jean where waiting for them was Erwin and South-West coalitions generals. Evne with one arm he looked as imposing as ever. 

“What the fuck- Jean why where letting her.” 

“She’s  could be hurt you Idiot.” Jean screached loosing all his calm authority from a few minutes ago. 

He quickly scanned Mikasa looking for blood or shrapnel sticking out from her but nothing. 

“I’m fine.” 

“You where vomiting on the battle field.” 

“She fucking flying in the air.” 

“I was watching her.” Pinching his nose with his eyes looking up at the moon maybe for god for just a scrap of patience. 

“Not very well.” Eren scoffed, leaning over Mikasa to get a better look at her. She was too tired too dizzy to really care what was happening on this rooftop it was almost peaceful. They felt like dieties looking down at the chaos below. Was the what it was like to be Armin A titan? 

Jean seemed to have had a better look as Eren bent down on his knees patting her to see if she was bruised or sensitive anywhere storming off towards Comander Erwin to give him a report from the ground. 

By the weeks end the South-West coalition alliance nations signed an allyship agreement with the Eldian nation of Paradise. They had proved during the surprise attack from Marley that they where true friends and anything but devils. 

The Radio waves where full of people making accounts in both Eldian and langues she couldn’t speak of the heroism that the Eldians of Paradise exhibited. For people that where not even aware or formally friends to them. 

It was a step in the correct direction. Plans where being made to start a base where they could send some cadets and squad leaders to stay in Shapazti the strong hold nation state that was the strong hold for the South-Western Colition during the invasions and uprising against Marely. 

People where beginning to see who they were. 

“Louise I need you to ride along with me. Theirs no time.” 

The cadet quickly followed him. She was alittle odd almost devotional to the senior soldiers espcially Mikasa but she was a good worker and always ready to prove herself despite lack of talent. 

“Where are we going?” She huffed. 

“Just follow orders for now Cadet. Its partially personal but it is important.” 

“Was it Mikasa?” 

“What did I say?” He snapped. They rode towards the train station in silence and Jean left her to take the horse back to base. 

He thought about all the time it took them to build just a mile of track and how fast it took to travel that mile. He was in trost and Jinae was a pretty straight shot since it was on the south side. 

Should he have bought flowers? Treats? 

As the panic of the news settled within his bones he felt it again. The realization that he had royally fucked up. Mikasa had given birth alone while she had been traveling alone. Because he had been- Well he had listened to her since their relationship had strained but still as she grew the more at a loss he had become and bitterness had also tainted his feelings. Never had he been more bitter even when she never noticed him when her eyes where only on Eren. 

He had asked her to Marry him and she had said no. How as he supposed to feel? 

She had been angry everytime as she had as much as seen him. When Kiyomi had visited the island she had only become more enraged due to Kyomis happiness that she would give up the Military and maybe even take up permanent residence in Hizuru. 

The idea had sent knots in his stomach thinking Mikasa and the baby they had made being an ocean away but also maybe it was safer. Although peace delegations and alliances where being made Paradise was a hotbed for war at any moment. 

She had shut him out for 7 months. 

Ignored him. 

Blamed him. 

This wasn't his fault. But still the guilt persisted. 

[husbandomail-archive]

I’ve had this sitting around for a few days so. 

Reno/Reader, vaguely titled “first aid”

fem reader only bc he says “ma’am” once

“Why don’t you just use a Cure?”

It was almost routine by now. It happened at least once a week, although the frequency had begun to increase as of late. He would saunter into the office, pristine uniform marred with new stains or scorch marks, and perch himself on the edge of the desk. You’d tried ignoring him at first, but he always sat himself down right on top of your paperwork, so you had to acknowledge him eventually. No matter how much you wheedled or pleaded or— gods forbid— asked politely, Reno wouldn’t move until he got what he wanted.

He glanced up at you from underneath his bangs. The blood on his face was dry, a much darker red than his wild hair. A smile curled its way across his thin lips. The dried blood around his mouth cracked and began to flake off. “Those things are rationed, babe.”

You huffed and turned back to the desk drawers where your first aid kit was hidden. “I find it hard to believe they’d send a Turk to the receptionists for healing.”

Reno shrugged and didn’t respond. As you pulled your little box of supplies out, he tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling, his eyes tracing out faint patterns in the gray metal. Everything in Shinra was dull and gray, the ceiling blending with the walls and the floor and the windows— a vague part of him thought that the place looked better with splashes of blood on the steel floor. At least that was something interesting to look at.

The plastic first-aid box landed on the desk with a muffled thud. You stood out of your office chair and rolled your sleeves up as you examined your patient.

Reno was covered in blood. Most of it wasn’t his, although there was a thick trail of red that had dripped down from his nose and stained his mouth. His unruly hair had finally been tamed, but only because clumps of mud had stuck the strands to his scalp, the nape of his neck. His perfectly-tailored suit had practically been shredded; you never could tell if it was because he’d taken a hit, or if he was just that careless. Between the ribbons of his shirt, scrapes and bruises were beginning to blossom over his skin. He still had that stupid grin on his face.

When your eyes landed back on his face, Reno was grinning. “Like what’cha see?”

“I’d like it more if you weren’t bleeding on my paperwork,” you complained.

The two of you had grown used to this song and dance; as you dug through your supplies for the right bandages, Reno peeled himself out of his ruined shirt and jacket, tossing the fabric to the floor. You glanced back at him and cringed. Yes, his shoulders were nice— yes, his hips were gorgeous— but without that barrier of cloth in the way, his wounds were even angrier than you’d expected. There was no way he wasn’t still in pain.

“Alright,” you tore open the first of many antiseptic wipes, “no kicking this time.”

Reno hissed at the first stinging swipe across his arm; his body tensed up with the effort of not jerking away from you, your paperwork scrunching up as he balled his hands into fists. He still had enough of his voice to make another joke. “It’s not my fault I’ve got fantastic reflexes.”

You snorted as you dropped the now-red alcohol wipe into your trash bin. When you reached for another, Reno stiffened again; you paused, hand hovering above the paper packages in your first-aid kit. 

Reno turned his face away as he listened to you rustling through your medical supplies. It wasn’t like this was a new situation— he’d been a Turk for years at this point, and it just came with the territory. But this was the kind of thing that didn’t get easier with experience. Maybe that was why he’d started coming to you instead of the infirmary; if it had to happen anyway, he’d much rather it be you. At least you didn’t lecture him the way Tseng did. At least you were prettier to look at.

“Hold this.” Reno snapped back to attention at the sound of your voice. He turned just in time to catch the small package you’d tossed at him; it crinkled in his hands as he twisted it around to read the fine print. 

“It’s an ice pack,” you said, lips twitching into a lopsided smile, “since I’m sure your Blizzard materia is rationed too.”

He grinned back, although with the blood smeared across his face, it wasn’t very comforting to look at. Still, he busied himself with cracking the ice pack and pressing it to the worst of his bruises. While he was distracted, you tore open another antiseptic wipe and moved for another of the cuts in his skin.

The two of you fell quiet as you worked, the silence only broken by the occasional hiss from Reno when you applied too much pressure to his aching body. You pulled a washcloth out of your supplies; not wanting to leave an injured Turk alone in your office, you elected to pour your water bottle out onto the cloth instead of stepping to the nearest sink. 

One of your hands landed on Reno’s chin, still covered in dried blood that was most certainly his this time, and tilted his face upward. You could feel his bright eyes looking through you as if you were glass— something about his sharp gaze made your stomach flip. You brought your damp cloth up and finally began to wash the blood off his face.

Reno let his eyes slide closed. No matter how gentle you tried to be, there was always an edge to your movements, something rough and unpolished. He liked it— it was human, and he didn’t get to experience much of that anymore.

Your hands pulled away from his face, and he had to catch his whine in his throat.

“Couldn’t see this before,” you muttered, swiping your thumb at the corner of his mouth, “but that’s gonna need stitches.”

Reno rolled his eyes and moved to push himself off your desk. “Guess I’ve gotta report to the infirmary anyways,” he sighed. 

You shook your head and gently pushed on his chest, urging him to sit back down. Your other hand was busy in your first aid kit, fumbling blindly for the small suture kit you knew Shinra supplied everyone. “I can do those too. Sit down.”

When Reno smiled this time, all the blood washed away, it was much nicer to look at.

“Yes ma’am.”

[openheart12]

Most Wonderful Time of the Year

A/N: it’s not christmas without a tiny little fic. it’s almost 2 in the morning and it is not proofread which to be fair i never proofread my shit so i’m sorry for any errors

Summary: Michelle has a Christmas surprise for Tony.

WC: 524

“But mommy…” the six year old whined.

“You have to go to sleep so Santa can come, sweetheart.”

“One more song?” She asked, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

“Fine, but only one more,” she relented. “What one?”

“Sunshine song!” She exclaimed.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away,” she sang softly, running her hands through her daughters eyes as her eyes fluttered closed.

She held her a few more minutes before she’d have to go play “Santa.”

“I love you,” she whispered, placing a kiss on Avery's forehead before shutting the door.

She went downstairs where Tony was supposed to be getting the presents out so they could wrap them. And as she expected, the containers were nowhere in sight.

A couple minutes later, he was carrying one into the living room with a broad smile.

“What took you so long?” She asked, mirroring his smile.

“It was heavy,” he replied, shrugging and setting the container down.

“I know you were listening to us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his smile growing.

“You’re terrible,” she laughed, throwing a package of bows at him.

“And you love it.”

“Come on, Mr. Claus, we have work to do.”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” he saluted, grabbing the rest of the containers.

Michelle set out the wrapping paper on the floor and got to work on wrapping the first container full of presents while Tony was on taping duty.

A couple hours later, all the gifts were wrapped, Santa had eaten his cookies and the reindeer had their carrots. “Remind me to not wait until Christmas Eve to do all this again,” she groaned, stretching out her back. It was a little after midnight, officially Christmas. Their second one together after leaving CTU behind them and getting back together. “I have something I wanna give you,” she said, getting up and grabbing a present from under the Christmas tree.

“I’m flattered, Mrs. Claus,” he teased, getting up on the couch where she joined him.

She handed him a small bag with tissue paper. Her nerves were on fire, she had only done this once before. He opened the bag, his jaw dropping when he saw the tiny piece of plastic.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked, meeting her eyes and she nodded, tears springing to her eyes. “Oh my god, no way,” he smiled tearfully.

“That’s usually how the biological process works, Tony,” she laughed.

“I just didn’t think life could get any more perfect and again, you continue to surprise me.” He cupped her face in his hands, closing the gap between them. Her lips were warm and soft under his and it was home. “I love you so much,” he said, pulling away for a moment.

“Show me,” she said breathlessly.

“I’m telling Santa to put you on the naughty list,” he chuckled, picking her up as her legs wrapped around his back and carrying her up to bed.

Safe to say, it was definitely one of their favorite Christmases.

[sixosix]

inumaki toge: don't try to be a genius

blurb inumaki made it a mission to figure out why you’re acting so strange around him. he considered everything except a crush. (a 3+1 fic)

# fluff, based off twice song, friends to lovers, wc 2k

the first time starts with accidental hand holding.

in all honesty, maybe you should’ve figured you would slip sooner than later. a harmless crush—now harmful given the situation with your peers, mostly named gojo satoru and panda—is impossible to hide when the first thing on your mind isn’t romance, but bloody murder.

it was a day that was not dissimilar to a vacation. 

unfortunately, students like you aren’t quite the type to be given day-offs like 20% off coupons in sunday newspapers. so when gojo-sensei said “be free, my flock! make your mama bird proud!!” like the fucking weirdo he is, all of you should’ve known that curses would be crawling everywhere in your given ‘vacation’ destination.

“if you drop one bag, i’ll kill you,” says nobara. “and don’t you dare drop maki-senpai’s bag or i’ll kill you again!”

maki shrugs at your confused look, though she looks amused. she always allows nobara to suck up to her, but everyone else is as good as gone if they try.

yuuji, local maid of the first years and now the second years, sighs. “yes, ma’am, i understand.”

you walk in a leisurely pace beside nobara and inumaki. it’s both heaven and hell, and not in the way anyone would think. hell, because the love of your life is literally right beside you and looks so content you want to pinch him. heaven, because your best friend is right there to calm you down.

panda and yuuji launch into an insightful debate about which restaurant should you all go to for dinner, and everyone else joins in the conversation, save for you and inumaki, who are happy to listen to them.

“what do you think, y/n?” yuuji asks.

“hmm,” you pretend to be deep in thought, “fushiguro-kun has good taste so i vote whatever he votes.”

megumi flushes red. inumaki makes a noise to say that he agrees with you.

they continue with their debate. you’re happy to eat wherever as long as you stay with your friends.

your hand brushes against something warm and soft; on instinct, you want to curl into it like a cat, but when you look down and realize who those hands belong to, you panic.

—oh my god that’s inumaki-senpai’s hand—

with a flinch that’s strong enough to make nobara jostle from beside you, you dart away from inumaki.

nobara splutters, ready to have your head chopped off for disturbing personal space, but abruptly stops at the sight of your round-eyed stare directed at your own hands. it takes one glance at the object of your affection to realize what’s going on.

inumaki blinks, startled and confused. “mustard leaf?” he asks you, looking around for any sign of danger.

unless you all happen to walk past a mirror shop, you doubt he’d find anything life-threatening.

“what? what happened?” yuuji looks extremely alarmed at the sight of your distressed face. “y/n…?”

“nothing!” you’re quick to exclaim before everyone else asks. “sorry, just, uhhh—” panicked because i almost held inumaki’s hand like it was second nature.

you rush to yuuji’s side and distract him with a half-baked excuse, away from an amused nobara and a confused inumaki. if anyone notices you pointedly steering clear from inumaki, they don’t say anything.

you sit next to yuuji and fushiguro, despite inumaki leaving space for you.

it goes mostly normal for the rest of the night.

meanwhile, inumaki looks deeply perplexed at everyone acting like there’s an inside joke he’s not getting.

“inumaki? what’s up?”

maki quirks an eyebrow when inumaki slips a paper for her and panda to see. they read the words slowly, understanding dawning on their faces.

did i do something to upset y/n?, the note reads.

panda looks like he’s about to shit himself with how happy he looks. not an appropriate response, inumaki thinks, a little upset. “no, you didn’t do anything to upset y/n!” he says gleefully, which is like, totally suspicious.

“you’re so dumb,” maki rolls her eyes, flicking the paper back to him. it lands on his head, and she pats it. “you’ll figure it out soon.”

inumaki wants to figure it out now. he doesn’t like that you’re avoiding him, and he makes it clear with a mildly aggressive: “bonito flakes.”

maki and panda only laugh.

he makes it a mission to figure it out, much to your chagrin.

the second time starts, unfortunately, with gojo-sensei. and this time. inumaki is acutely aware, unfortunately.

“my lovebirds!” gojo chirps with a happy clap. you grimace and inumaki makes a confused noise. “my wonder duo! are you both up for some high-ranking missions, hm?”

“sensei, inumaki-senpai just got off from one,” you tell him.

inumaki shakes his head at you. “bonito flakes.”

gojo hums with amusement. “hmm? you want to do it?” and at your deadpan glare, gojo grins, because he’s a maniac who knows about your silly high school crush. “he wants to do it! if y/n-chan only wants his say in it, then we’re good to go.”

gojo may act like a fool—and he is, honestly—but he’s right about one thing, and it’s how you and inumaki fall into unspoken ease with teamwork, one that’s strangely limited to the both of you.

halves of the same whole, nanami once said. you didn’t have the heart to tell him it’s because you are in love with your supposed other half.

you assure gojo that it’s only because inumaki is strong enough to protect both him and his teammate, and gojo calls bullshit and says no matter what your technique is, you and inumaki make a formidable pair despite the year difference.

the thought of that makes you a little happy. and gojo takes advantage of that by sending you both off to missions more than anyone else.

but you don’t mind, not really. not when you get to spend time with inumaki, who’s so easy to be around with.

inumaki seems pleased that the Vacation-Day-Incident is long forgotten and you two fall back into a friendly routine.

“inumaki-senpai, here.” you toss him a small bottle of cough syrup you like to carry around in case of emergencies.

he looks surprised at the sight of it. “tuna mayo?”

“ah, yeah,” you chuckle sheepishly. “i notice you run out sometimes when it gets too rough so i always have extras with me.”

inumaki has a funny expression on his face, and it’s one he makes when he’s frustrated he can’t say what he wants to.

you clear your throat. “you don’t have to thank me, it’s no trouble—oh, what are you—”

inumaki shuts you up by taking your hand and gently kissing your knuckles.

you make a noise that’s somewhere between a yelp and a strangled squeal, which he seems to find amusing.

you know he did that to show gratitude when he can’t express it verbally, but did he have to do it like That…?

you feel your face heat up and you pull away from him like you’ve been burnt, missing the displeased frown on his face. “um! gojo-sensei is probably waiting for us.”

inumaki’s gaze is intense. “mustard leaf?”

inumaki feels like you’re pushing him away again. maybe you’re uncomfortable around him? that seems most likely. no one else had flinched from his presence that way before.

inumaki feels a bit sad, now. he’s not sulking—maybe—but gojo pats him on the back and wishes him luck and to push through with his mission. (inumaki never told anyone about it, but it’s gojo-sensei and he knows everything so he accepts it with a nod of gratitude.)

all in all, it was a very unfortunate end to the day.

the third time it happens, you’re stuck in a forest with him.

it’s a mission involving all of the first years along with inumaki (he found you guys on his way back) this time, and still, you end up alone with inumaki. it’s like the universe is conspiring against you or something.

or maybe it’s nobara not-so-subtly pushing you to inumaki’s direction every five minutes.

you don’t mind.

“yuuji-kun sure attracts trouble like a magnet, hm?” you muse, jumping over a root tall enough to reach your thigh.

inumaki smiles. “salmon.”

“i can’t help but worry, though,” you sigh. inumaki nudges you with an elbow until you look at his silent expression. “yeah, yeah, yuuji-kun is strong. and nobara and fushiguro-kun are strong enough to protect him, but it’s so—bleurgh.”

inumaki seems to accept your explanation. “tuna.”

you check the weather. “d’you think we should hurry up—”

“explode!”

that was not your voice.

alarmed, you turn your gaze back straight ahead. you almost trip over your own feet at the sight of a deformed caterpillar-like sludge creature that crawls out from the trees, similar to the one inumaki just killed.

the curse claws at your face.

you recoil from its grasp. “oh, gross!” you pierce your sword through it and watch it fizzle out of existence, flailing limply in your blade. you twist it around just to make sure. “that was gross,” you repeat.

“mustard leaf?” without warning, inumaki takes hold of your chin—NNHHHGG????!—for his eyes to roam around your face to check for any scratches.

you love that he’s getting comfortable with you, you really do. best friends forever, or something like that. but that doesn’t mean you don’t get to freak out about it when you quite literally feel his breath on your face.

you sputter some excuse and hurry away from him, heart pounding.

inumaki goes still, eyes stuck on the spot you were standing on before you ran away.

the frantic looks directed to anywhere but him, the embarrassed noises, the stammering—

maybe you’re already in a relationship?

he’s not sure what to feel about this mission anymore.

inumaki toge is standing outside your room.

yuuji spots him as he’s on his way back to his, and waves. “inumaki-senpai? what are you doing here?”

inumaki waves back and points at your door. “tuna tuna.”

“oooh, we’re at that part, alright,” says yuuji like that it isn’t the most cryptic dialogue one has ever heard. “do you want me to check if y/n’s there?”

“katsuobushi.”

“okay, okay! don’t look at me like that.” yuuji laughs. “i’ll leave ya to it. good luck, senpai!”

“mustard leaf…”

inumaki shakes his head and knocks on your door.

there’s a confused snort from the other side. you probably just woke up, inumaki thinks to himself with a small smile, and it doesn’t fade when you open the door, disheveled.

your eyes widen. “i-inumaki-senpai?” you blurt out louder than intended. both of you can hear a poorly stifled cackle from nobara’s room.

inumaki holds out his phone, letting you read out the words pre-written on the screen: i came here to apologize.

“what? wait, wait— what? what happened?”

inumaki types on his phone for a few seconds. i made you uncomfortable the past few days. i didn’t mean to do that.

you stare at him, blinking slowly. “made me… uncomfortable… what…?” then— “oh. oh! oh no, no, no. no, ahh this is so embarrassing.”

“mustard leaf…?” inumaki instinctively reaches out to you, but then stops himself when he remembers what he’s here for in the first place.

“inumaki,” you laugh in disbelief, “why are you apologizing as if it’s your fault i have a crush on you?”

what?

he gapes—he’s sure he’s gaping, but he can’t help it. his jaw drops even more when you don’t take it back, or even announce that you’re joking. you’re not joking. with a finger scratching the nape of your neck, you smile sheepishly. “i thought i was being obvious, but maybe not…?”

inumaki can’t help but mutter a soft, “oh” of realization.

it turns out he’s got it all wrong.

“oh,” says inumaki again.

he curses, and then shoves his phone away to take your hands. “salmon!” he exclaims, and he sounds so relieved and happy and you’re looking like you want to run away again. “salmon.”

“i’m sorry, i’m not sure what you mean—”

inumaki huffs and pulls his collar down. he’ll just show you.

it ends with a kiss.

remember when i said when i write jjk fics it would only be for inumaki? yeah well. TA DAAAAA ( ´ ▿ ` ) you should be worried tbh bc i literally have no idea wtf im doing with these characters

[polikszena]

For the Top Gun song association game: Still Into You by Paramore :)

Top Gun song association meme

I haven't heard this song before and the Internet connection was pretty bad on the bus, so I could only rely on the lyrics and honestly, I thought this was a slow song, so it was surprising when I actually listened to it.

Also I've written two quite short things, because I had two ideas and couldn't decide which one to choose. So here's one for Bob/Hangman and another for Phoenix/Coyote:

Still Into You 1

As his eyes fell onto the pair of glasses on the nightstand, Jake “Hangman” Seresin shook his head. He couldn’t believe that this was still going on, that his feelings still hadn’t changed. Well, they had, but they only became deeper and stronger, and the rest of it stayed the same. He still couldn’t resist that goofy smile, his heart still skipped a beat at the touch of his hand and the sound of his quickening breathing still fueled his desire. He was afraid he would get bored of him after a few months, but it had been years for now and there were always some new things to discover. Like the growing number of gray strands in his hair or the wrinkles forming in the corners of his mouth. Instinctively, he reached out to trace that part of his face, making him shift in the bed.

“Good morning, babe,” Hangman said softly, stroking his cheek.

“It’s still your turn, babe,” Bob replied, still with his eyes closed.

“Damnit,” the pilot mumbled.

“But nice try,” the Weapon System Operator said, opening his eyes so he could give him a quick kiss. “I appreciate that.”

And with that, Jake “Hangman” Seresin climbed out of the bed to make the coffee and feed the cats. Robert “Bob” Floyd watched him walk out of their bedroom with a smile on his face. He couldn’t believe this had been going on for years.

Still Into You 2

Lieutenant Javy “Coyote” Machado was smiling so proudly as if it had been him who got promoted on that day and he was the one who clapped the loudest as Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, now a lieutenant commander, walked off that small stage. He felt butterflies in his stomach as on her way back to her row, she smiled at him, even though he saw that smile every day. However, he couldn’t get enough of it. 

“Lieutenant commander,” Phoenix began once they were back at home after the ceremony. “I like how that sounds.”

“Me, too,” Coyote agreed, flashing a grin at her.

She took off her hat and began to undo her tight bun. The sight of her dark hair falling on her shoulders still made his throat run dry, even after all these years. He shamelessly watched her letting her hair down, getting rid of that practical but otherwise horrible bun.

“So, what will your first order be as a lieutenant commander?” he wondered, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“Well, Lieutenant Machado, my first order is to take me to bed,” she replied, stepping to him, making his heart skip a beat. “And the time I want this order to be executed is right now.”

A wide grin broke out on the other pilot’s face. He straightened himself and saluted her.

“Yes, Ma’am!” he said, then picked her up and carried her to the bedroom in his arms.

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[agentmmayy]

july rotation

another hundred people - eleri ward: the sonder in this song makes me want to *clenches fist* the lyric ‘can we see each other tuesday if it doesn’t rain’ sent me through the mf roof not only with how beautifully it’s sung but also from the longing packed into that one line. being an adult really is making plans to meet up with friends then changing them over and over until you can finally see each other and even then it’s like no time has passed and you greet each other with hugs and i miss you’s and part with i love you’s and let’s hang out soon and maybe soon is relative but the promise is there. i want to see you again. i’ll wait in the rain and look for you among hundreds of people. i’ll let them and the world pass me by until i find you

radio silence - zella day: first off the cover art is amazing. second, it’s a banger. third the relevancy of this song to abortion rights now just makes it even more impactful. the lyric you have anxiеty over pregnancy so you bought this fuckin' pill for me hit me upside the head. i still haven’t recovered from the chorus alone. it’s haunting and lonely and frightening and everything highlighting what women and people who are able to get pregnant have/had/or will face. it makes me go insane

cognitive dissonance - sophie holohan: @justanalto put me onto this song and it’s another sad twerking bop that i can’t stop listening to. completely obsessed with this artist and her voice 

wildflower - mel bryant & the mercy makers: i am sooooo normal about this song (lying) yes i am still hung up on themes of near feral and destructive love and what about it! and I'm stuck here still like a wildflower on the side of the highway is all i can think about as well as i'll sleep in the rain under your headlights on a school night, i'll be outside your front door and burying your heart in the ashtray i just- i need to scream. i need to physically consume this song and make it a part of me and even then i still won’t be over it

horses - maggie rogers: maggie is hitting out of the park with every song on this album. she said it was a ballad and i said yes ma’am it is!! this one in particular makes me want to run wild in a field somewhere (it has awakened my repressed horse girl apparently). BUT i am still salty over the lyric being ‘break’ instead of ‘pray’ please respect my privacy at this time

anywhere with you - maggie rogers: @152glasslippers and i have already screamed over this being an eddissy song but even outside of it the lyrics are IMMACULATE. praying to the headlights like i prayed to you before i found you and i’m gonna lose my mind i’m gonna lose it with you and all i’ve ever wanted was to make something fucking last. maggie!!!!!!!!

home - christina perri: christina perri still stays scalping me even ten years later. it’s about wanting to go home but being unable to!!!!!!!! it’s about not feeling like you belong even at home!!!!!!!!

fever - christina perri: oh i love how haunting this is, especially with the chimes in the background. the lyric i dream about you but i’ve never even seen your face completely rocked me. christina is a master of prose 

cowgirl bebop - hana: filed under songs that make me want to sit around a campfire and sing them with friends and also songs that make me want to put on a long dress and just sway around the room. it’s slow it’s soft it’s wistful and sorrowful yet hopeful. it’s beautiful

[mcufox123]

Poofed

WandaxFemReader

Summary: Wanda copes with a life that may not have you in it.

Warnings: Devestation

A/N: This story literally is heartbreaking but in a good way I think. Let me know what you guys think!

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You wake up suddenly to your hand being kicked. It was wrapped around your wife’s very pregnant belly as you both tried to sleep through the night. You smiled dreamily in your sleepy state as you were reminded of the twins who would be born any day now.

You and your wife were a part of the famous superhero group who saved the world numerous times. Shortly after she joined and got acclimated with the team the two of you started dating. It has now been 7 years of being together, 3 of them being married. You had moved out of the compound and were now living in your dream house in the countryside, the perfect place for your growing family.

While Wanda was able to take leave months ago as none of the team wanted your children hurt, you still went to work every day. The team promised that once they were born you would be given 3 months to spend with your family but until then “there were still bad guys out there” in Tony's words of course.

You checked the time to see you still had a half an hour to spare before you had to be at the compound. You made Wanda breakfast and set it up next to her then you got ready for your day. You showered, got changed and before you left you wrote two sticky notes to leave on your wife’s mirror. One saying, “I love you more than chocolate chip cookies.” The second said, “You are looking like such a hot mama today.” You left a kiss on Wanda’s forehead and whispered an ‘I love you’ then you went to work.

Wanda woke later that morning with a smile on her face. She saw the breakfast you set up and immediately started eating because she was starving. After her breakfast in bed, she showered before seeing the notes you left. She actually laughed out loud. Even when you weren’t home you always made her day. She sent you a quick text.

Hi my love! Thank you so much for breakfast! I love you more than tv shows!

After that Wanda went about her day normally before she got bored and decided to go to the compound. When she arrived she saw Bucky and Sam watching tv.

“Hey boys,” Wanda said as she set her bag on the counter before walking over and sitting in between the two.

“Hey Wand, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?” Bucky suddenly jumped into protective older brother mode.

“Sit.” Wanda ordered him, glaring at him. She appreciated the gesture, but she was pregnant and not handicapped.

“Yes Ma’am.” Bucky sat not wanting to make Wanda upset.

“Damn man, if she needs something she’ll tell us right?” Sam asked, turning to Wanda.

“Exactly thank you Sam.” They continued watching TV comfortably every once in a while bantering about something.

“Hey guys, where was y/n’s mission today? I usually hear from her by now if she’s going to be later than 6.” Wanda said realizing the time was now past 6 and she still hasn’t heard anything.

“I think they were in Florida today,” Bucky said, scratching his head trying to remember what Steve told them this morning. “Some mission with aliens that Carol warned them about. They’ll be fine. You’re welcome to stay here in your old room though.” He finished. Wanda thanked him before getting up to move to the kitchen, both men hot on her tail.

“Who is hungry?” Wanda asked as she started to get ingredients out for a caprese chicken dish and some pasta.

“Me, for sure. I missed your cooking so much Wanda.” Sam said, taking a seat at the counter pulling out his phone to que up some songs to listen to while you cooked. Dinner was good and shortly after Wanda went to bed in the now foreign space and begged for sleep to consume her. It was hard because she grew used to your arms wrapped around her with your face pressed into her hair. That night she didn’t get much sleep. She sent you a text letting you know she was sleeping at the compound before she rolled over and tried to shut her eyes.

The following morning Wanda woke up to a still empty bed. Now she started getting nervous, she searched for her phone to see no new messages. She took her time getting out of bed but quickly threw on the clothes she was wearing yesterday before heading to the kitchen.

As she was almost there she could hear Steve talking.

“So Wanda’s here?” Steve asked the person he was talking to.

“Yeah she came yesterday and we just told her to stay. So wait, you're telling me that these things just hit a button then poofed with Tony and y/n? Are they alive?” Wanda could now tell the other person was Bucky. She felt like she couldn’t breath, feeling the wind knocked out of her at the words she just heard. She couldn’t hide any longer and barged into the kitchen.

Her hands instantly went into a fighting position holding Steve in a tight grasp so he couldn’t escape.

“Where is she Steve? What happened? You promised me no life or death missions. You promised me she would always come back to me. She said she would never go away.” Wanda said while breaking towards the end and crumpling to the ground. Bucky went over and wrapped her in a hug.

After a few minutes Bucky put Wanda on the couch as now the rest of the team came in and Pepper with her two small children. Steve went over what happened on the mission and how they have no trace of either of their teammates. He made everyone aware that Thor, Carol, and the Guardians of the Galaxy were all in search of their friends.

Wanda felt so lost. Your twins were expected any day and you were gone. How was she going to do it if you weren’t back? How was she going to be strong for your two little ones if you weren’t there? The questions swarmed her head as she tuned out the rest of the team. After hours of talking the team now turned to their tuned out friend to offer some support.

“When was the last time you ate?” Clint asked Wanda, putting his hand on her shoulder to ground her.

“I don't know.” Wanda shook her head still thinking a million miles a minute not making eye contact with anyone.

“Wanda you need to eat. You have two other people to worry about. Y/N will be ok, she will come back.” Steve said, sitting next to her. She collapsed in tears and that was how the rest of the night went, crying and the team forcing Wanda to eat.

The following days Wanda barely left the bed. On the 4th day of you being missing Wanda felt a sharp pain in her stomach. Her eyes started to tear up from both pain and the realization of what was happening. She was going into labor without you. She screamed out in pain and heartbreak.

Steve rushed into the room as soon as he heard Wanda scream, “It’s ok Wanda we’re here, let's get you to the infirmary.” he held Wanda’s hand all the way down to the infirmary. Steve sent a text out to the rest of the team to let them know what was happening and soon familiar faces appeared in Wanda’s room.

They took shifts as they waited for the time to push. Natasha talked about the makeshift nursery they set up for Wanda, Bucky talked about how he got clothes for Wanda and the babies from Wanda’s home, Steve talked about schedules and shifts he made up to help Wanda, Sam bought stuffed animals, and Peter offered to take the babies to the playground. Wanda just sat and listened, grateful for her friends and the help they were giving her. All she could think about was how you should be there.

You should be freaking out everytime Wanda had a contraction, asking if she should get the doctor. She knew you would try to find her favorite shows on the TV and rub her back whispering soothing words. She needed that more than anything, she needed you. She needed you to be there for your twins first breath, for bringing them home, for the countless sleepless nights.

Soon the doctor entered the room, “Wanda it looks like you are ready to push,” nurses entered behind them with all of the equipment needed for the babies’ delivery. Wanda nodded trying to prepare herself for the experience that was moments away. “Would you like anyone in the room with you?” and Wanda did, she wanted you but you weren’t there. So she asked her best friend Nat to stay with her to which Nat agreed.

They got into position and Wanda endured the hardest fight of her life, childbirth. She could’ve sworn she broke Natasha’s hand from how hard she was squeezing. Soon a melodic sound broke through the pain as her first child was born. “It’s a boy!” she heard and she started to cry of joy. She had a son. The joy didn’t last as she felt another urge to push. “And we have another boy!”

Wanda was so relieved that both boys were here and healthy. You kept telling her that you could feel it was two boys, two football players, you would say. They brought the babies to wanda and laid them on her chest. Nat was quick to snap a quick photo before exiting the room to let the rest of the team know, giving Wanda a moment with her children.

Nat walked out of the room to see no one in the waiting room. She asked the nurse where everyone was who informed her that they were outside. She walked quickly outside hoping you were back. Instead she saw someone else. Tony on his hands and knees crying while the rest of the team was surrounding him.

“What? Where’s Y/N?” Bucky was the first to speak. Everyone was too scared to hear what happened, why Tony was back but not Y/n.

“I don’t know. One minute we were in a room being questioned the next thing I  know y/n lunged at the guy questioning us. She was fighting with him for the poof thing. Then after she successfully got it we realized only one of us could go back while the other had to hit the button. She didn’t even give me a second. And now, now here I am and she is there. Where’s Wanda I  have to tell her something?” Tony suddenly looked frantic.

“No, you’re going with Bruce to do everything you can to get Y/N back.” Clint said, poking Tony in the chest. “You are not doing anything else until she’s back. And you definitely are not seeing Wanda. That girl just had to give birth to twins without y/n, she’s destroyed.” Clint walked back into the infirmary while everyone was still in shock.

“I ‘m sorry. I ‘m going to bring her back.” Tony promised before walking towards the lab to get in contact with the people who were already searching for y/n.

Meanwhile Wanda was still in awe of the two boys in her arms, memorizing all of their features. She knew their names, you and her had picked out the names for all twin scenarios and for two boys it’d be Tommy and Billy. She started to hum a tune she remembered as a child. She started to get upset as she remembered the last time she hummed the song.

You had just walked in from a long day helping in the lab and training. You saw Wanda in the kitchen cooking dinner before turning to see you. She gave you the biggest smile as she came over to wrap her arms around you. Her pregnant stomach left some room between you two as she reached up to plant a kiss on your lips.

“How was your day my love?” she asked walking back to the stove to turn it off and putting the food on the table.

“I'm so tired. Tony was going on about this new feature he wants to make for the quinjet and then Nat beat my ass at training. I don't want to do anything.” Wanda sensing your mood guided you to the couch she sat then pulled you down so your head was on her lap. She played with your hair to calm you down.

“The babies were very active today kicking the heck out of me” she giggled to which you turned your face to her stomach. You placed your hands on her stomach.

“Hey you two, stop kicking mama. I  know you want to play football but you're gonna have to wait till you come out of there.”

“How do you know they’ll want to play football?” She questioned you.

“I  can just feel it in my bones.” You said as your eyes fluttered close. Dinner was long forgotten as Wanda continued to play with your hair humming the tune and you drifted off to sleep.

The following week after the twins’ birth was very hard for Wanda. She went through all the firsts by herself. Instead of going through the first night with you she went through it alone. Instead of bringing them home together with big smiles she took them to her room in the compound. Instead of introducing the twins to the team with you they were all by Wanda’s side before she could introduce them.

She spent the nights in bed. Someone on the team  was always sleeping on a cot to help her during the nights. It had been 11 days since you went missing and you had already missed the biggest week of your little family’s life.

On the 11th day Wanda left the sleeping twins with a sleeping Uncle Bucky and roamed around the compound seeing you everywhere she went. In the kitchen where you both cooked dinner for the team all the time. On the couch where you spent countless nights watching tv shows and movies. In the training room where you pinned Wanda more times then she likes to admit. Then she headed towards the lab.

She stood shocked.

Right in front of her was a man that betrayed her. A man that you had put your life in the hands of who disappointed you. She stormed at him in a fit of rage. “You son of a bitch! Where is she? What did you do to her? I'm going to kill you!” Wanda screamed at him while hitting his chest. Tony let her, knowing that this was what she needed. Wanda continued to curse him out before Tony finally grabbed her hands.

“Stop. I  get it. I'm the bad guy, and I deserve to be. I  messed up the biggest moment of both of your lives. You can keep hitting me, knock me out, whatever you have to do. There is something I have to show you first though.” Tony let go of Wanda’s hands before walking to the screen to pull up a video for Wanda.

When it came through it was you. You were sitting in a bare room and Tony was asleep on the floor behind you. Your hair was a mess and you looked exhausted.

“Friday is it recording? Yes? Ok here we go. If anyone is watching this I  probably did something stupid and I ‘m so sorry. If it’s Wanda hi babe. Man, I think it’s been 3 days and I miss you like crazy. I ‘m trying to figure out a way to get back to you and the babies I promise.” Wanda can feel the tears rolling down her face. “Well I think I have a plan. You aren’t going to like it but I promise you that it will all work out and I will come back to you. Babe I  don't have much time they are coming back. I  love you and our twins so much. I  am going to do everything to come back to you.” Then the screen went black.

“Play it again, Tony.” Wanda asked Tony and he did. She watched it about 10 more times. Just hearing your voice made Wanda feel better.

“Thank you for showing me that. Can you send it to me?” Wanda asked, keeping her eyes locked on yours on the screen. Tony nodded and Wanda walked out of the room back to the twins.

After that day Wanda had hope. She knew you would come back to her. She watched that video every night on repeat to fall asleep too. She played it for the twins and other videos of you so they could hear your voice. The team noticed the change in Wanda as well. They were very skeptical but didn’t question her mood change.

After a month of you being missing Wanda had almost given up hope. Tommy was fussy and Billy had an explosion in his diaper and it was the first time the team had all gone on a mission so no one was with her. She was crying while changing Billy’s diaper while using her powers to rock Tommy’s baby seat.

“Ah boys, it’s ok mamas here. We’ll be ok sh sh sh.” She was so frustrated she couldn’t even get the diaper on Billy. There were a few more minutes of Tommy crying and Billy and now Wanda before she heard Tommy stop. She didn’t even turn around; she figured he just fell asleep.

When she turned with Billy in her arms she was shocked to see the person standing in front of her. It was the love of her life with her son. A sight Wanda never thought she would see. You looked skinnier, tons of bruises and cuts littered your skin. Your clothes were tattered and your hair was a mess in your face. Wanda thought you still looked just as beautiful. She had Billy in her arms as she slowly walked towards you not believing her eyes. She reached up and touched your face to make sure you were there. And you were.

With Tommy in one hand you reached up with your other to place on top of Wanda’s. “Hey there stranger.” You said with a chuckle. She wrapped her arm around you and started sobbing. You put Tommy in the bassinet still holding onto Wanda then reached for Billy placing him next to his brother. Then you did the thing you had been wanting to do forever.

You held onto Wanda as she sobbed in your arms. You stroked her hair while whispering “I’m here,” over and over in her ear.

Your arms were around Wanda but your eyes were on your twins. You soon began to cry, realizing how much time you missed. Wanda pulled away when she felt something drip on her shoulder.

“It’s ok my love you’re here now. You won’t miss anything else. You’re here.” Wanda promised with her hands on either side of your face to make you look at her. You leaned down and gave your love a long awaited kiss. Both of you being grateful to have the other there to comfort each other.

You soon pulled away from Wanda to look at your twins.

“I told you two football players.” You chuckled as you picked up the other baby who you have not held yet. “Who is who?”

“That’s Billy and this is Tommy.” She said while picking up the other baby. You both made your way to the bed with the twins and got comfortable next to each other. You stared at them trying to take in the two people who were now your own.

“I’m so sorry I  missed all of it. I  tried to get back as fast as I  could. I  really did. I  thought when I sent Tony back it was going to be hours and I would be back. But I see metal man's mind isn’t what it used to be.” You rambled on. You wanted Wanda to know just how sorry you were.

“It’s ok. You’re here now and I’m not letting them take you anywhere. You’re staying with us for as long as I want.” Wanda assured you. You sat with your family for hours just basking in their presence and soaking it all in. You changed every diaper and did anything Wanda needed until she ordered you to go shower. While watching your 7th episode of grey's anatomy you dozed off with the babies between you and Wanda.

You only woke when you heard the rest of your rag tag group of friends enter the compound from their latest mission not even trying to be quiet. You turned to see Wanda still awake nursing Billy.

“Should we scare them?” You asked Wanda with a grin on your face. “You can if you want.” She didn’t feel one way or the other. Knowing how much the team helped her while you were missing.

You stood up and hid behind the closed door. It opened halfway.

“Hey Wanda how’d everything go?” Steve asked, you could feel multiple people enter the room however.

“Boo!” you jumped out to scare the team. Bucky not knowing it was you punched you in the stomach.

“Ah shit sorry y/n.” he said before recognition came to his eyes and the others. “Wait y/n?” he stared in disbelief. Nat was the first to tackle you in a hug before the others were soon to follow.

“How, how, how did you get back?” Tony asked with tears in his eyes.

“Well I  thought you would figure it out quickly once I  sent you back but that didn’t happen. I  kept waiting and finally decided to just do it myself. I  befriended another prisoner who promised to poof me back. And then when they did I  was in the training room. I  got Wanda’s text and just assumed she was still here and made my way up to her room.” They all said how happy they were that you were back. You ate dinner as a family and spent the night in your room with your beautiful wife and boys.

“Let’s go home tomorrow.” you suggested to your half asleep wife in your arms.

“You are my home.” she said and you felt warmth well up in your chest.

“I  love you so much darling.” you nuzzled closer to her.

“I  love you more.” and you both fell into a deep sleep which neither of you had had for a long time.