#// you said angst soooooo!!!!!

[aestasrosis]

07. for an angsty starter || hit me with your best shot!

what normally would have been a joyous occasion had quickly become a nauseating realization for summer. after spending multiple sleepless nights awake on the bathroom floor, hunched over the toilet seat as she retched for hours, she came to the conclusion that she had to tell him. if she was going to go through with this, if she was going to commit, she had to tell him.

“qrow,” she nudged him awake, blinking back tears. “wake up.”

[lokissweater]

little mouse

{toge inumaki x f!reader}

summary: toge inumaki, the barista at your local campus coffee shop, is the cutest man to ever cross your life— the both of you clicking fast and becoming the best of friends as the years flew by together… but you were in love. uncertain of crossing that line between friendship and lovers as you focused mainly on trying to see if he even liked you back. but as for toge? he was focused on trying not to burden you for the rest of your life because of his inability to speak, wanting you and only you, but juggling and tormented over his labored silent existence, hurting you in the process.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, college!au, FLUUUFFFF SO MUCH, pet names, TOGE LOVES YOU BROOO, angst!!! but with comfort!!, happy ending, SMUTTTT, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, doggy hehe, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sorority party, toge is a barista ouuu, cursing, best friends to lovers trope, reader and toge argue, all characters are aged up.

word count: 15.2k

authors note: YEEEOOOOWWWWW this fic was originally NOOTTTT supposed to be 15k but i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again I CAN NEVA STOP YAPPING MY GOD??? i hope you guys love this one as much as i do though it is SOOOOOO CUTEEE man :(( thank you SO SO MUCH for your love and support as ALWAYS, AND I LOVE YOUUUU AHHH MWAH MWAH HAVE A GOOD DAY OKAY <333

anyone that was a regular at the shop knew toge inumaki didn’t really ever speak.

and it was something you found out on your first day of college, running to the nearest coffee shop at eight-thirty in the fucking morning looking for something to snack on and wake you up before lecture, choosing to go to the one just around the corner from campus through a recommendation of a friend— but not knowing at all that you were about to run into the cutest man to ever plague your god damn existence, as well as your bestest friend in the entire world.

toge was the main barista and cashier at the shop, his mixology skill incomparable as no one else on the floor could replicate it successfully without errors the way he did— ringing customers up while simultaneously throwing coffee bases and syrups in a blender, topping each corresponding one with whipped cream on various orders before sliding it over to the pick up counter, all without even breaking a sweat through the times that you’ve shamefully watched him work from your little table before or after classes.

the first time you met him, you thought he was just having a bad day… and that he also hated you.

you had politely told him your order while at the same time ogling his handsome face— a small and simple sweet vanilla cold brew drink with a little blueberry scone on the side— when toge didn’t even spare you a glance and just tapped in your order on the screen, turning the tablet over to showcase the total before moving to the back to get started on your drink, not a single word leaving his scarf covered mouth as you silently paid and got a table.

it’s not like you were expecting anything out of it, but you hoped you would at least catch the color of his eyes before you had to leave.

and it went on like that for a total of four days— you saying the exact same order but just switching up the little pastry depending on your mood (it only consisting of your usual three— blueberry scone, cake pop, and cheese danish), toge’s eyes never leaving the register or drinks he made as you waited, and him sliding over your order in record time as he got started on attending the next customer.

on the fifth day, toge finally looked up.

the way he took your order didn’t change, but when it came to placing it over the pick up counter where you stood, your eyes widened when you noticed he was already looking at you, a grin on his face as he personally handed you your drink instead of sliding it over.

his eyes were purple.

and you just about fucking screamed, your days of hopelessly coming in to try and ridiculously take longer peeks at his face whenever you could finally paying off in that moment— and not expecting whatsoever to see the sides of his mouth marked with tattooed snake eyes either.

that day was also the day you noticed toge knew sign language.

most of the time toge took orders quickly without a word and punched in requests, but from time to time when a customer had a question about a menu item or what the passcode to the bathroom was, he always had a little whiteboard next to him with a black marker to scribble out what he needed to say— regulars already knowing how he communicated and not batting a single strange eye.

but on that day, a new customer came in that you didn’t recognize to be a regular, signing to one of the confused employees at the cash register until the employee turned around and tapped toge on the shoulder, pointing and saying words you couldn’t really hear before he quickly nodded and put down the blender he was holding, going over to sign.

you were mesmerized by it, the way his hands and fingers came together and away from each other to form different words and sentences completely unknown to those who didn’t understand the language, something that was beautiful to you and made you want to actually learn so you could potentially have the liberty to talk to him some time in the future if you could.

the next time you came into the shop early in the morning, toge was at the register. and upon seeing you walk in, he smoothly looked down and started typing away already on the screen, seemingly not listening and leaving you standing there confused.

“um—” you stammered. “can i…”

you trailed off as you watched him pick up his whiteboard and uncap the marker, scribbling.

‘i remembered your order.’

you froze, your heart doing enormous leaps considering this was the first time toge actually spoke to you apart from getting your order down and smiling at you.

“oh! really?” you laughed nervously. “…do i come in here too often then?”

he gave you a friendly grin and shook his head, erasing what he had before writing again.

‘do you want a blueberry scone, cake pop, or cheese danish?’

your eyes bulged. “you know that too?!”

he laughed, the sound making your hands clammy as you giggled along with him shyly.

“i’ll do a cake pop today!” you smiled. “i’m running a little late and that’s— easy to eat.. you know—”

he gave you a thumbs up and nodded, signaling with his head for you to wait by the pick up counter as he scribbled another few words, turning the whiteboard around.

‘i’ll see you tomorrow :)’

your cheeks flushed pink.

“y—yeah!” you spoke gingerly. “i’ll see you toge.”

the next few times after that toge would absolutely beam whenever you came into the shop, having already scribbled down your three choices of your usual pastries before having it ready for you at the pick up counter once you chose, even every now and then asking you a simple thing or two about your classes and major from the register as you sat by your table, him propping his little whiteboard up for you to see.

and ever since you saw that toge knew sign language, you wanted to know too, your desire to communicate with him more efficiently a silly priority on your mind as you signed up for entry level sign language courses at your college, trying to learn as much as you possibly could so it’d be easier for him not always having to step back and write.

“wait wait!” you put your hands out one slow morning upon arriving at the shop, toge stopping mid tap on the screen just as he was about to input your order, eyeing you.

your fingers shook a little as you slowly signed your order and choice of pastry for the day, trying to remember and grasp what you practiced repeatedly the night before, hoping your efforts would successfully come across and that you didn’t look like a fucking idiot.

but his focused eyes followed your movements, carefully watching you sign with pinched brows until you eventually finished— a slow pearly white smile spreading across is face as his gaze flickered to yours before writing on his whiteboard, turning it.

‘you know sign language?’

“barely!” you sputtered. “i um.. i started taking classes a couple of months ago but i’m not very good… did you— get it though? what i said?”

he quickly nodded.

‘it was a little choppy but good! good job y/n :)’

you breathed out a sigh of relief, a hand over your hammering chest as you swallowed.

“oh thank god.” you breathed. “i was worried i looked stupid or was accidentally telling you something weird.”

he laughed and waved you off, a slight tint to his cheeks as he wrote.

‘how’s learning it overall?’

“hard as fuck.” you mumbled, but peering up at him with a smile. “i’m trying though! i really love the language and i love learning it… it’s just hard because my professor kind of sucks and teaches it too fast.”

he hummed, moving around in the back while preparing your order before coming around through the little swinging door and over to your usual table, you standing dumbfounded at the register still as he stood there with your pastry and his whiteboard.

toge pointed to your seat.

“oh!” you gasped, walking over and taking a seat, smiling gratefully once he placed your coffee and cheese danish down for you, but stiffening once he scooched the chair out across from you and sat, your cheeks ablaze again.

“you wanna—” you looked at him with furrowed brows. “you wanna sit with me?”

he laughed a little and nodded.

“but the…” you pointed to the cash register.

he uncapped his marker and wrote, turning the board over.

‘it’s a slow day. if someone comes in i’ll just go.’

“oh— okay!” you breathed out nervously, wringing your fingers together as you kept them on your lap.

your thoughts were speeding across every corner of your mind, not knowing exactly why toge chose to sit with you right now but hanging on to the moment anyways, you anxiously trying to come up with things to say to get to know him a little better.

“i like your um..” you pointed to the corners of your mouth. “—your tattoos. did they hurt?”

he smiled and wrote.

‘thanks :) and not really, my throat hurts more than the tattooing itself hehe.’

your eyes snapped up to his.

“your throat?” you asked softly. “is it okay?”

‘oh it’s fine!’ he wrote. ‘well no but it just hurts a lot when i talk so i just don’t.’

you hummed in understanding, the missing puzzle as to why exactly toge never spoke out loud to anyone in the first place finally clicking into place.

“i’m sorry toge…” you expressed sweetly. “have you tried— well i assume you have but… like getting it checked out? or maybe honey with lemon or—”

he turned his board around.

‘yeah :P nothing really works. L for me.’

you giggled, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a smile.

‘can you show me what else you know in sign language?’

“ohhh this is it.” you swallowed. “you’re about to laugh in my face and think i’m stupid.”

he laughed and gave you a look.

‘you’re silly. just show me.’

you huffed before timidly showing him very basic simple phrases that you managed to pick up from class out of the millions that were shown— short choppy kiddy words that didn’t even serve to get by in a quick conversation, but enough for simple one worded responses.

“oh! and i like this one the most!—” you put the bases of your palms together and rubbed a little.

toge let out a squeaky cute laugh as he watched you before quickly picking up his marker and writing.

‘cheese? your favorite thing to sign is cheese?’

“yeah!—” you giggled shyly. “it’s funnn! and i never fuck it up.”

he nodded with a gleam in his eye.

‘i could teach you sign language if you want.’

you froze, eyes wide as you looked at him.

“seriously?” you quickly leaned forward. “are— are you sure? you definitely don’t have to at all toge… i don’t want to burden you or anything.”

his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.

‘not burden at all.’ he wrote. ‘i’m a lazy fart i don’t do much besides this so it’s fine.’

you giggled and nodded excitedly, a hopeful shine in your eyes as you looked at him.

“o—okay!” you agreed. “i’d like that a lot… thank you toge!”

he was so nice.

and just as he was about to write something else, a customer came through the doors and up to the cash register, toge quickly scribbling something down before standing and showing you, walking backwards.

‘i’ll talk to you later little mouse :)’

you laughed loudly, a hand flying over your mouth as you did.

that nickname stuck.

“bye toge!” you responded kindly, gathering your things before heading out for the day with your coffee and pastry.

unfortunately for you, midterm season came and knocked the absolute shit out of you for a week, you unable to go back to the coffee shop to see toge until it was all fucking over, your heart heavy over the fact that you literally failed your sign language test, but giddy and excited nonetheless to finally see him after a while and go back to your usual happy routine.

and as for toge, he was left utterly confused.

was he too forward? did you think it was weird when he called you little mouse? did you think he was weird?

was it something he did? why had you stopped coming into the shop after going in continuously for like weeks at this point?

and he had just gotten the courage to look you in the eye too.

toge literally had your order ready every single day with your three pastries warmed up and toasted if need be, your sweet vanilla cold brew drink ready to go the moment you walked through those doors at any given point and time… but you just didn’t come. him leaning on the register counter bored out of his mind and dejected over the disappearance of the pretty nice girl that always came in and talked to him at his work, ending up always drinking the coffee he made for you silently and munching on the three pastries you chose between when it was time to close.

but when you finally came in, early in the morning like you always did and looking forward to seeing him again— toge was hunched over the counter with his chin propped up on his hand like he had been for the past week, you unknowing of that as you walked over with a smile.

“hi toge!”

he shot up, eyes wide with his palms flat on the counter.

“y/n!—”

he spoke.

toge spoke and he immediately cowered over in a fit of painful sounding coughs that racked through his body, his mouth shoved into his elbow as he quickly pushed through the doors and walked to the back, leaving you there wide eyed and completely fucking shocked.

he said your name.

“toge..?” you called softly, timidly as you leaned over the counter to try and catch a look at him from inside the employee break room, still hearing faint coughing. “hey— are you okay?”

he returned to the floor chugging back a bottle of cough syrup like nothing before tossing it into the nearest bin and swallowing, snatching his marker to write on the mini whiteboard, holding it up.

‘where the fuck have you been?’

you looked at him with an apologetic little face, your eyes soft.

“i’m sorryyy!” you whined. “i’m so sorry it was midterm week for me and i was grinding so hard and i just didn’t have time to come in… it was torture.”

you guiltily bit your lip. “…are you mad at me?”

he shook his head slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing at the confirmation that it wasn’t anything he did that could’ve potentially put you off.

‘not at all mouse :P.’ he wrote before reaching to the side and sliding over your already made coffee and three pastries, lined up.

and surprise crossed your face.

“you had it ready?” you gasped. “toge! thank you!”

you quickly opened your book bag and he placed a hand over your arm, stopping you and shaking his head ‘no.’

“no?” you asked softly. “what do you mean? i’m just gonna pay.”

toge only shook his head again with a small smile, nudging his head over for you to sit at your usual table.

your shoulders slumped. “now what would you do if i just burst out crying right now.”

he laughed loudly and let go of your arm to write, leaving a burning fuzzy feeling on your skin in return.

‘cry? why?’

“because you’re so nice!” you whined. “please let me pay. i already feel bad not coming in for a week… especially after you offered to teach me sign language.”

‘go sit down mouse. i’ll sit with you in a little bit.’

you begrudgingly stood in place before nodding and taking your drink with your bag of pastries, walking over to the side and plopping down on a seat.

toge had a bit of a rush in and couldn’t join you for nearly an hour, him constantly shooting you apologetic looks and you frantically waving him off and reassuring him that it was okay, you astronomically thankful that you didn’t have class that day until later in the evening.

but when the rush was eventually over, toge dropped down on the seat across from yours with a big tired sigh and his whiteboard, head down.

you gently poked his arm then, and he looked up.

“is your throat okay?” you asked, face serious. “and you?”

he nodded, giving you a warm smile before grabbing his marker.

‘it happens sometimes, i just slipped up. L for me again.’

you smiled sadly and retracted your hand from across the table to settle back over your lap.

“i like your voice… if that makes you feel any better.” you spoke shyly, looking down at your fingers.

toge bit the inside of his cheek and smiled cheekily.

‘thanks mouse… but i know something that’ll make me feel even better hehe.’

“what?” you asked curiously.

he wrote.

‘give me your number before you disappear on me again you little rat.’

“hey!” you whined. “i thought i was a mouse..”

he chuckled cutely and nudged your foot gently from underneath the table, erasing and writing again.

‘i’m just kidding. we need to set up those sign language lessons soon though :D.’

and at the reminder of that you groaned, body slumping over the table as toge eyed you confusedly.

“you’re gonna laugh. or be mad. or disappointed. or all three..” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled.

he poked your head repeatedly and you lifted it, chin resting lazily on the table as he looked at you expectantly.

“i failed my sign language midterm.”

toge snorted but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, and you whined again before shoving your face back down as he quickly shook you by the shoulders, trying to get you to look up again.

“no no no i’m a disgrace i’m a failure i studied so fucking hard for nothing it’s over i’m not cut out—”

he kept shaking and delicately pinching you before you finally looked up again.

“what.” you mumbled, eyes dragging to his propped up whiteboard.

‘i’m sorry i laughed… but don’t worry you’ll pass the next one. you’ll be okay.’

“and how do you know.” you grumbled.

‘because now you have delicious me, duh :P’

you giggled softly and lifted yourself from the table, leaning back against your chair.

he gave you a warm knowing smile before writing again.

‘cheer up mouse… i promise i’ll help you.’

a slow cutesy grin spread across your face, one that made him swallow hard as you looked at him through your lashes.

“thank you toge… do you— do you work tomorrow?”

his gaze flickered up in thought before he shook his head, eyes landing back on yours.

“maybe we could start… tomorrow? if you’re free? and if— if it’s okay of course!” you stammered nervously, gnawing at your bottom lip as you waited for his response.

his cheeks fluttered pink a little before quickly nodding.

“okay!” you breathed excitedly. “great! we could do it here? or—”

he frantically shook his head no and uncapped his marker.

‘my dickhead manager will pull me to work if i’m here on my day off.’

you laughed and nodded. “okay not here then.. where? we can try my place but i already know my parents are gonna be annoying about bringing a guy over so..”

he smiled and looked down to write.

‘we can do my apartment mouse. i live alone.’

your eyes widened. “you have your own place? really?”

he slowly nodded.

“that’s so cool toge! oh my goodness i can’t wait to see it now!”

you bounced enthusiastically in your seat and he chuckled, perplexed as to why you would ever be excited to see something like that, but choosing not to question it.

‘it’s kind of small, and i mainly just sleep and be lazy if i’m not working or streaming.’

you tilted your head. “streaming..?”

he pursed his lips and looked down again to scribble, an embarrassed undertone to his face before propping the whiteboard up.

‘i play games and stream to earn extra money on the side like a little loser.’

you giggled, your eyebrows slightly furrowing before relaxing. “why would that make you a little loser toge? you’re making money while doing something you like… i think that’s really fun!”

an eager attractive grin ran across his face before quickly writing again.

‘i’m glad you think so :) but give me your number neow.’

“oh that’s right!” you beamed, taking his offered whiteboard and marker before quickly writing down your number with a heart in the corner, passing it back.

“just text me whenever and we can set a time for tomorrow okay?”

he nodded, his eyes trained to the heart you drew.

for the rest of his shift, toge spent it bouncing around between your table and back to the cash register to take orders and make drinks, seemingly finishing each beverage ten times fucking faster than usual just so he could come over and talk to you before you had to leave again for your evening class.

but you didn’t want to leave whatsoever, and you even juggled the possibility of skipping class to stay longer with toge, but the next class happened to be sign language, and you didn’t want to fail another fucking midterm by not showing up and missing material.

you threw your trash away before grabbing your book bag and slinging it over your shoulder once it was time, you slowly and timidly trying to get toge’s attention as you walked to the exit.

your shy raised hand caught his eye in between him blending and pouring drinks, toge quickly putting everything down and reaching for the whiteboard from the register, erasing whatever he had from a previous customer to write and flipping it over with a silly smile.

‘bye mouse!’ it read. ‘i’ll see you tomorrow! :P.’

and that was nearly two and a half years ago, the heart you drew in the corner of his whiteboard still there to this day as he answered questions, responded, or scribbled directions in any given situation with it no matter if it was in or outside of work— always wanting to have a little part of you with him wherever he went.

toge also kept his promise and taught you sign language, you trying so so fucking hard every waking day you spent with him at his cute little studio apartment— learning phrases and properly constructing it into sentences that actually made sense as you both sat sprawled on the floor for hours on end, him patient and kind as he watched you shakily sign and accept his gentle corrections with an open mind.

but although your sentences were continuously choppy and a little off at that point in time, they were definitely in way better condition than when you tried to study and learn it on your own… and toge was unsurprisingly a really good teacher— ten times more helpful than your literal freaking licensed professor whom you had started with, as toge would actually take the time to write and explain each concept in the best way he possibly could for you to understand.

now you were comfortable enough with it to respond in very simple sentences and phrases, but stronger at understanding it whenever toge signed to you, a plus when he clumsily forgot his whiteboard somewhere or when he just didn’t want to use it.

and ever since that first day you went over to his place to learn and study, you literally never went a day without going back again, your cute routine with him being going to his apartment every second of the day to hang out with him or do the things that you needed to do— some that could easily be done in your own space and home and room, but you refusing to for the sole purpose of wanting to be with toge all of the time, him feeling the exact same way and going as far as to giving you a copy of the key to his apartment.

(toge :D): MOUSE

(toge :D): MOUSE

your phone buzzed repeatedly just as you were walking up the steps to toge’s floor, you nearly dropping it over the uncontrollable buzz.

(toge :D): LITTLE MOUSE

(you): YES <3

(toge :D): ouuu a heart?? i didn’t know we were married :P

you let out a giggle and quickly typed a response, your face hot.

(you): mmm i don’t know my ring finger is quite literally bare right now :/ maybe next time!

(toge :D): YOOOOO

(toge :D): it’s because it’s gonna be under your pillow

(toge :D): like from the tooth fairy

(toge :D): a big shiny cock

(toge :D): I MEAN ROCK

(toge :D): ROCK I MEANT ROCK SORRY

you burst out laughing as you readjusted your book bag on your shoulder and turned the corner, nearing his apartment number.

(toge :D): …please still come over

(toge :D): oh wait that’s why i texted you! :P

(toge :D:) WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU

(toge :D): YOU’RE LATE MOUSE

(you): LMFAAOOO

(you): IM COMMINGGGG i’m literally down the hall sir

(you): but now that you yelled at me HMMMM i don’t feel like going today <//3

(toge :D): NO

(toge :D): i’m sorry i’m on my knees

(toge :D): i’m begging

(toge :D): i even brought you a blueberry scone from work

(toge :D): and i’ll buy you whatever you want

(toge :D): FUCK COME OVER NOOOWWWWW

(you): SAY PLEASE AND ADDRESS ME CORRECTLY

(toge :D): PLEEEAASSEEE MOUUSEE

you bit your lip in attempts at suppressing your giddy smile, it not really fucking working as you arrived at his door, pulling your keys out from your bag and shuffling through them to find his— one that had a tiny onigiri design on it.

(you): coming!! <33

(toge :D): so you’re saying we’re married again :P

the door clicked open upon you twisting the key in, stepping inside before closing it behind you while juggling your textbooks and locking it, toge seated on his little gaming chair when he swiveled around and waved at you with a big smile, standing.

“toge!” you gasped exhaustedly, stepping over to him. “you have got to help me please my god—”

he grabbed the textbooks from your arms and walked over to his desk, setting them down before turning back around and giving you a curious look.

‘what’s wrong?’ he signed.

“everything! everything is wrong sign language two is not for the weak oh my goodness gracious—”

you flopped down with your back flat on his bed, eyes shut in agony as he watched you amusedly.

“my professor’s teaching us grammar now and it just gets harder! i don’t know where to properly put anything or— or sign anything.”

he giggled softly and you peeked an eye open, looking at him.

‘i’ll help you mouse.’ he signed, stretching a hand out and you taking it, letting him pull you up to sit as you lazily did so.

“but i ask you too much.” you pouted. “and i feel bad every time i do, especially when you’re playing.”

he snorted, going over to his little dining table and pulling out a chair, lifting it over to his desk gaming set up area and placing it down before ushering you over with his hand.

“nuh uh.” you shook your head.

toge gave you a half lidded look and sat on the dining chair, him always saving his big comfy gaming chair for you whenever you sat with him at his desk since the first time you came over— his eyes expectant.

you deeply sighed and stood, trudging over to his gaming chair before plopping yourself down.

“you don’t have to toge… it’s okay.” you spoke gently. “you’ve been teaching me for like— two years already. my new year’s resolution was to stop bothering you about it and let you live.”

he slid his little whiteboard over and erased what he previously had, uncapping his marker and writing.

he showed you.

‘i’ll always help you and you know that :( and it doesn’t bother me you rat, i do it because i want to.’

or because he’s in love with you. either or.

you giggled and lifted your hand, your index finger erasing over the word ‘rat.’ “—it’s mouusee toge. it’s like you get off on abusing and hurting your bestest mestest friend.”

he laughed boyishly and put down his whiteboard, sliding over one of your textbooks from across the table to him and flipping through several pages, reading to try and see exactly where you were at by the sticky notes you left behind in the margins.

“don’t you have to stream today though?” you asked timidly. “like right now?”

he simply shrugged, turning a page as he reached over to write again on his board.

‘i can stream later tonight—’

he quickly turned it around again to add something just as you had finished reading, him flipping it back over.

‘—with you asleep on my bed. because you’re sleeping over. and that’s FINAL.’

you laughed loudly while leaning forward, your cheeks brewing up a little flush at the request even though you’ve slept over at his place plenty of times before— the thought of him actively wanting you to making your heart bounce around erratically in your chest.

“fuck i don’t know…” you feigned concern. “i’m not sure if i can toge i’m sorry.”

he slumped, eyes so sad that it made you almost sick to your stomach as you struggled to commit to the small bit.

‘why not?’ he signed.

“because i’m missing something.” you pouted.

‘missing?’ he signed again. ‘missing what?’

you snickered.

“my ring!” you extended your hand to him and wiggled your little fingers, you poking the tip of your tongue out to the side cutely. “the one you promised me over text.”

toge breathed out a laugh and nearly dropped dead at your cute expression, him mimicking you and sticking his tattooed tongue out before picking up his whiteboard from his lap to write.

‘i told you the tooth fairy has it :D you have to be patient little mouse.’

you giggled and put your arm down, giving him a stern silly look.

“kayyy thennn!” you dragged, sitting up in your chair and looking over your textbook. “i’ll be expecting my big shiny rock under my pillow in the morning sir.”

he saluted you and you grinned, the rest of the time being spent with toge trying to teach you as best as he could with you hopelessly following along, feeling like the dumbest bitch alive and embarrassed whenever you got something wrong.

but toge never minded, not one single bit— even when you made the same grammar mistake literally three times in a row and him correcting you each freaking time the same exact way, no sign of annoyance or frustration on his face as he worked with you.

and that’s one of the biggest reasons as to why you loved toge so much. since the moment you met him all he wanted to do was just help you, regardless of the fact if you were a stranger or not as he generously always put the things he needed to do aside for you— making sure you were always okay and getting the things you needed no matter how many times you told him he didn’t need to worry, you feeling special and appreciated whenever you were with him no matter what.

you hoped to god he felt the same… and you hoped you weren’t being straight delusional when you noticed the way he looked at you a little longer than he should have at times, or when you read too much into the casual little pecks on your head from him, or when you had told him how much you loved just studying on the floor beside him while he streamed but made a joke that sometimes you couldn’t see because it was so dark in his apartment, toge literally the next day buying you a little flower lily lamp to set and prop up right next to you so you could comfortably study, him laughing and wiping your tears when you ridiculously cried over his consideration.

so did that mean he loved you too?

“toge…” you murmured in the midst of him fixing a signage error of the word ‘before’ with his fingers.

he pointed to your hands so you could take note of the alteration he made, waiting for you to carry on then.

you smiled softly in gratitude before continuing.

“have you ever—” you pursed your lips. “have you ever um… well— actually nevermind—”

he blinked before slowly lifting his hands.

‘have i ever what?’ toge signed, and you quickly shook your head.

“nevermind! it’s okay.”

he gently nudged your foot with his, beckoning you to tell him as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

fuck.

okay if he kisses your head right now then you’ll tell him.

“i forgot toge.” you lied. “that’s why i said nevermind… oopsie!”

he laughed and leaned forward, pecking your forehead before reaching a hand up to ruffle up your hair.

fuck!

no you take it back you can’t do it you can’t—

‘silly.’ he signed, turning his attention back to your textbook and flipping a page.

he wondered what it was, but figured it would come back to you eventually and you’d tell him soon after.

by the end of the day, it was like there was an actual fucking light at the end of the tunnel for you and your sign language two class— you going from being over a thousand percent sure that you were about to pathetically fail the entire course, to having a shiny little sliver of hope because of toge’s ability to get anything through your big head and make you understand, feeling eternally grateful for him in many ways than one.

and you wanted him, so fucking bad, ever since you saw him at the coffee shop, that you thought in that moment while toge set up his bed for you to sleep in while you sat on his desk chair, dressed in his big white t-shirt and pajama pants, that if you just— maayybee tested the waters and crossed the line a little bit without it being too drastic, that you’d get your answer.

but did you want to know? what if he didn’t love you back? what the fuck were you supposed to do then?

cry and wither away, that’s what. you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone as much as you loved toge.

you hear the familiar squeaks of his black marker streaking against his little whiteboard, the sound pulling you from your thoughts and you looked up.

‘you’re so spacey today pretty. are you still worried about your class? :(‘

pretty.

“oh!” you stood. “no toge i feel a lot better about it actually because of you… thank you.”

he grinned, nodding before walking and leaning over his pc to set up his streaming session, mouse clicking away.

“toge—”

he looked over at you with his gorgeous purple eyes and you froze, cheeks heating up as your wobbly lips struggled to come together and fucking speak.

“nevermind nevermind—”

his eyes narrowed, snatching his whiteboard and quickly writing.

‘you did this earlier today too. tell me what’s wrong.’

“no.”

‘no?’ he signed. ‘tell me y/n.’

“no! not my name!” you dived dramatically on his comfy blanket filled bed and groaned. “you only call me by my name when you’re mad and i don’t like it.”

he sat next to you on the edge of the bed and pulled on your shoulder slightly, you fully turning around on your back and looking at him anxiously.

toge wished he could continuously beg you and ask you what was wrong so you’d just tell him— him at times sick of constantly having to pause and make you wait so he could get his point across, a painful fact that never left his mind and made him feel like the biggest burden in your life.

that’s why he never wanted to cross that line you both always seemed to lean over without meaning to. the line that’s kept you both on this limbo of half best friends and half more as he sometimes hugged you a lot longer or snuck in a couple of self indulgent cheek and hand kisses to your skin… but that’s as far as he’d really let himself get. toge didn’t want to permanently have you drag him along in your life no matter how much he wanted to be in it as something way more.

you deserved noise, you deserved loud love, you deserved someone who could actually speak to you— things he mourned over that he could never give you.

and he knew this. he’s known from the moment you walked into the coffee shop the very first time even though you swore up and down that he noticed you later, you unaware that he actually saw you right off the fucking bat on the first day and couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye— knowing you were going to be the biggest heartbreak of his life and ruin him if he so managed as to let you in when you kept coming back.

but toge was selfish, and he couldn’t help himself.

so he tried to compromise.

there’s nothing wrong with being just friends… right? a casual conversation between two people while he was at work? to then bid goodbye and say hello to every now and then?

except a quick conversation with you turned into ones that lasted almost his entire shift sometimes, and then casual meet ups turned into sleepovers at his apartment when he offered to teach you sign language, and then little hugs of farewell and hello’s turned into him kissing you practically fucking everywhere that wasn’t your mouth with the tightest embraces, him completely going against what he swore he wasn’t going to do and damning himself for life.

and even more so when you had joked about wanting a ring that one day, him actually going out the next day and buying you matching ones even though he didn’t even know if he was strong enough to actually give yours to you.

but toge was still freaking selfish.

because as you looked at him now, your gorgeous face anxious and thought-filled about things he wished you would tell him without worry, the outline and shape of your plush soft lips burning his pupils in such a way that it felt like a privilege, your body in his clothes—

made him want to speak the three worded phrase he was only allowed to say in his sleepy dreams if he was lucky.

“what toge?” you spoke softly, reaching a hand up to delicately card through the front pieces of his pale blonde hair, soft and silky as the outline of his tattooed snake eyes made you a little fuzzy.

he slowly shook his head, a far off look in his eye as he leaned over you, his face close and strained that your eyebrows pinched a little at his expression.

your hand proceeded to gently smooth down from his hair to the side of his cheek, cupping it and caressing over it with your thumb so lovingly that he nearly broke his oath.

if you said that you loved him… he wondered if he would crack. if you confessed and told him that you felt the same way, he juggled the possibility of ruining his own life by giving in and letting you take on the burden of his existence just to have you like he’s always wanted—

“i love you.” you told him.

toge’s big wide afraid eyes stared back at you as you smiled sheepishly, his breath caught in his throat.

“i—” you hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt. “i really love you. like in the way where i want you to like— kiss me and stuff in your free time…”

he huffed a shocked breath, his face still just alarmed and strained and you started to believe that maybe you actually were delusional and misinterpreted things, his lack of anything making you second guess.

“i’m sorry.” you blurted. “i’m sorry i thought—”

and toge was still selfish as he let his lips fall down and crash against yours, moving so feverishly and hungrily that you couldn’t keep up as he dug his arms underneath you and around before pulling you up flush against his body, wanting you as close to him as humanely fucking possible incase he never got to do this again with you, the possibility horrifyingly still there.

“does this mean—” you spoke in between kisses, breathless. “does this mean you love me too—”

toge broke apart momentarily and quickly nodded, eyes ditzy and clouded as he panted against your lips, drunkenly lowering his head and linking his wet lips with yours again as he sloppily kissed you, laying you back down while you wrung your arms around his neck, you giddy and absolutely fucking enamored with him and that he was finally yours.

except he technically wasn’t… yet…

even when three full weeks had passed.

you still visited toge at work in the coffee shop in the mornings or the afternoon like you always did, ordering the same thing and going in to chat as he wrote his responses on his whiteboard— except now whenever rush hour would conclude, toge would greedily sneak in kisses with you at your table or hold the back of your hand to his cheek as you talked about your classes and your plans for the weekend, his conflicted mind putting his oath on the back burner for now as he tried to relish in the love he’s been wanting for so long.

and you were a little confused as to why toge hadn’t taken the initiative that night and asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn’t complain, you too caught up in the moment when he would make out with you at his apartment in between study or streaming breaks with his hands literally all over you like a man starved, groping and squeezing at anything he could but never going over that last jump to do something intimate with you, your lovesick mind too in it to care at the moment.

that was the next compromise he made.

if you both just— just stayed this way. no official title no matter how much it pained him just so that he could continue doing these lovely lovely things with you whenever you both wanted, his mind thinking that since you both weren’t technically together that he wasn’t burdening you for life just yet, wanting to keep it this way for as long as he possibly could because toge didn’t fucking know what he was going to do when the time came for making it official.

well yes— he did know. but what he wanted to do and what he should do were two completely different things.

“togeee!” you bounded into the shop one morning, thankful that it was empty as you quickly leaned over the counter and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, him smiling wide with a flush to his face in response.

‘hi mouse :) <3’ he wrote on his whiteboard. ‘have you had something to eat yet?’

“i’m good im good! wait i haven’t ate but im good!” you spoke excitedly. “i come with newwsss. really fun news!”

he hummed and nodded, motioning for you to continue as he moved around in the back to get and warm up a breakfast sandwich for you.

“one of my friends from sign language told me she’s throwing a party at her sorority house and invited meee!” you beamed, hearing a little oven ping and then following him to your usual table so the both of you could sit.

toge gently slid your sandwich over upon scooting his chair up, warm and yummy as it sat pretty on a little pastel green plate and him signing ‘eat please’ as you grinned.

“and i know you told me once that you’ve never been to a college party, so i was wondering if you wanted to maybe.. come with me?”

he smiled softly.

‘when?’ toge signed.

“tomorrow night!” you responded, taking a bite out of your breakfast sandwich.

he nodded, thinking a little in his head before sliding his whiteboard over to write.

‘of course ill go mouse but it might be better without me.’

you faltered, swallowing. “without you? why?”

he erased and wrote again.

‘because i can’t talk. your friends might think it’s a little odd.’

“no they won’t.” you countered. “and that’s totally okay, toge. just bring your whiteboard.”

he snorted, shaking his head.

‘i’m not bringing my whiteboard silly that’s even worse.’

“but you’ll be with me.” you reasoned. “and i don’t really talk to anyone at school either besides her so it’s literally just you and i hanging out.”

you wiggled your brows. “and drinkinggg ehh?”

he laughed and eventually nodded, reaching across the table and taking your hands in his as he agreed to go, caressing his fingers over your wrists.

the familiar scent of coffee beans and vanilla— a scent you’ve come to know for almost three years now wafted and swirled around through your nose comfortingly, it permanently reminding you of toge and the time that you’ve spent with him.

he let go of your wrists to write.

‘how was sign language yesterday? are you still good?’

you swallowed the bite you were chewing on and held back a grimace.

“oh i’m doing horrendously again… but it’s all good! ignorance is bliss and i’m choosing hardcore ignorance right now.”

toge’s jaw dropped before he laughed in disbelief and picked up his marker.

‘you’re sleeping over at my place again so i can help you no exceptions sorry about it :p’

you giggled and nodded— saluting him, a mannerism you picked up on from him as he smiled brightly.

“but i do know this!” you exclaimed excitedly as you pressed the bases of your palms together and rubbed, signing the word ‘cheese’— your favorite.

toge laughed cutely and signed the same word back, unable to do much else as the doors chimed to the shop then and a group of students came in, toge’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood before giving you a quick kiss and a ruffle to your hair, his whiteboard in hand as he started making his way to the back.

‘i love you.’ he signed and you bit your bottom lip in a smile, your heart swelling obnoxiously as you watched him shuffle on and tap a few things into the register, nodding along to the groups order as you soon after gathered your things for your afternoon class.

and that night after toge taught you a little more sign language and helped you work on the things you were struggling with, you fell asleep rather earlier than usual on his bed— him reaching for one of his fluffy blankets and draping it over your sleeping gorgeous self and staring, slowly leaning down and pressing the softest kiss ever to your little warm cheek— his chest twisting and contorting with the desire to just fucking give in and stop his stupid ridiculous suffering, to just be selfish one last time and ask you to be his.

and maybe he could.

maybe toge could allow himself this one tiny thing— the most important pretty thing of all, he felt.

just once.

“toge?” you murmured sleepily, eyes pinching a little as you lazily reached out for him.

but what if you grew tired of him? of the silence?

he delicately took your outstretched hand and hummed in question.

“come sleep.” you mumbled. “with me.”

his eyes softened, the corners of his mouth curving as he carefully tapped his index finger against your cheek repeatedly, you straining your eyes open.

‘look under your pillow.’ he signed.

your groggy eyes narrowed in confusion, barely making out what he was signing in the dark but catching key words.

“under my pillow?”

he nodded, pointing.

you breathed in and propped yourself up on your elbow, lifting the pillow you were laying on and suddenly snapping the fuck awake.

a ring.

you shot up, sitting up fully as you looked at him.

he stood and reached over for his whiteboard and marker, uncapping it and writing for a moment before flipping it around and showing you.

‘i got us matching bestest mestest friends but also in love at the same time rings :]’

you picked it up, a dainty thin silver banned ring with a milky white heart in the middle, iridescent as it glowed against the moonlight streaming through his open window.

“toge—” you breathed out. “you actually… you actually got me a ring?”

he wrote, a sly little grin on his face.

‘the tooth fairy did mouse.’

you giggled then, a vibrant pink glow to your cheeks and still a little shocked as he took the jewelry piece from you and gently grabbed your hand, sliding it over your ring finger smoothly, his ring finger already having his shiny silver band on.

he put your hand down and grabbed his whiteboard again.

‘that ring is me promising to help you and love you and kiss you until i die.’ he wrote. ‘okay?’

you quickly nodded, absolutely cheesed as you threw your arms around his neck and pulled toge in— feeling so so happy and fresh and loved, like everything was officially falling into place after nearly three years of semi crossing lines and stolen glances and unanswered questions about what exactly you both were for the longest.

your pretty pretty face had toge in a daze as you looked at him like he carried the world on his shoulders, his mouth slowly coming closer and closer to yours before softly pressing against them— slow and tender as you tugged him down to you by his shirt until he climbed in and was in between your thighs.

each kiss exchange was sensual and a mouthful as you helped toge tug his shirt off over his head, your palms running over his bare skinned chest and back as he deepened his kisses, your hands quickly pulling your shirt off and his eyes bulging at the sight of your puffy tits snug and pretty in your bra.

you were desperate for him and didn’t even have to think twice about something like this as you reached and tugged a little at his jeans, signaling him to take them the fuck off—

‘baby.’ he signed shakily, not even sure why he was asking since he doesn’t think at this point he could stop, but needing to check in with you first. ‘are you sure?’

“fuck yeah i’m sure.” you whispered quickly and unzipped his pants, toge smiling big as he kicked his pants and everything else off, carefully helping you do the same until you were bare and vulnerable in front of him.

toge moved to place a hand on your thigh and you squeaked, suddenly bashful as you shyly covered your arms over your chest and squeezed your thighs together.

he leaned down and placed gentle soft kisses on your cheeks, patting a comforting hand over your head.

‘it’s okay mouse. you’re okay.’ he signed.

you nodded, comfort washing over you as you slowly let your thighs spread and your arms reveal you, his spit catching in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous fucking body beneath him, his dick embarrassingly already leaking a little bit of cum as you watched him pump it a few times.

‘you’re beautiful.’ he signed, and you blushed.

he drooled some spit over his fingers and slid it gently in between your folds, your bottom lip coming in between your teeth as you tried to hold back your moans, his digits prepping you while slipping through your hole deeming it fucking hard as he was completely lost in it, unaware of the way he was riling you up and already building up that familiar sensation in the pit of your tummy.

“t—toge—” your pussy clenched at the way he was fucking you with his fingers, keeping your thighs apart with his other arm as he was completely drowned in the gushy sticky sounds of your hole.

“you’re gonna make me cum and i—” you panted, cute whines slipping from your lips as he looked up at you. “—i wanna cum when you’re inside—”

his cock spasmed and a drop of cum drooped out at your yummy plea, his breathing trembling as he quickly nodded and squeezed your thigh endearingly, slowly slipping his fingers out and stuffing them into his mouth to suck your juices as he pumped his cock while lining it up with your hole.

toge sunk in his dick then, the both of you groaning at the way he filled you up so fucking nice and stretched you, your pussy literally grabbing his cock and sucking him inside easily as you gripped his shoulders tight.

“mmm!—” you whimpered, toge now slowly pumping his cock inside of you as he leaned over and propped himself up by his arms, hips tenderly and deliciously rolling in as he panted and softly whined in your ear.

you were so god damn tight, his throat literally closing at the lock you had around him as he fucked you slow and breathless, one of his hands coming down to grip your waist to try and keep himself grounded and from snapping his hips into yours brutally— him wanting to make love to you and not do that just yet.

toge ducked his head down and licked over a perky tit, your breath hitching and subconsciously spreading your legs wider as he closed his lips around your nipple— suckling and laying a flat tattooed tongue over it as you moaned.

“faster—” pant! “faster please baby—”

with a mouthful of your tit he snapped his hips up, you choking as he started going a lot quicker than you anticipated as your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans in, your tits bouncing with every fuck.

“oh my god oh my god—”

toge suddenly pulled out and threw you over, tummy to the bed as he hauled your ass up and lined himself at your entrance again, wasting no time in pushing in and screwing you in the same pace he had before.

but this new position was an absolute delicacy as you drooled over his sheets at the way he rammed his cock, the recoil of your ass sending a shiver up his spine and roughly gripping your hips and ass in anyway he could, you screaming and whining into his pillow as a series of slaps to your ass cheeks from him echoed through his little studio.

toge was about to dump the biggest fucking load in you that it was embarrassing.

you reached a hand behind you and he quickly grabbed it, his thumb running over your skin soothingly as he pistoned roughly into your cunt, him groaning and whimpering over the squelching and leaking of your hole as he felt his dick harden— his cum on the brink of release.

“fuck fuck fuck—” you hiccuped into his pillow. “baby i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum hah!—”

he gripped your hand harder and leaned down over you, rutting into your pussy as he heaved and pressed his lips up against your ear, choking out the word ‘cum’ so softly that it bypassed the confines of his situation, your eyes squeezing shut as the hardest fucking orgasm you had ever had in your life hit you like brick.

you felt toge’s hips snap up and still as his hot milky cum spilled through your walls with a grunt, gooey and slimy as it filled you up and left you squirming at the weight of it.

his breath fanned against your hair as he tried to calm it, his hand moving soothingly up and down your back as you weakly tried to gain back some consciousness, the both of you sweaty and spent with his softening dick sliding out slowly.

toge carefully nudged you back over and kissed you tenderly, his hands traveling from your back over to your tummy and smoothly caressing every part of you down to the sides of your thighs, eyes swelling in utter worship over you as he leaned back to look at you.

‘i love you baby.’ he signed, and you beamed.

and just as toge had finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend then, to officially let go of the fears he had and let himself have you— there in your arms as you peppered sweet cute kisses all over his face and over his tattooed markings on the corners of his mouth, pulling him further in to rest and sleep?

toge had a horrendous day the following morning that threw it all away.

horrendous.

it started in the morning when he left your sleeping figure quietly with a kiss to your head for his shift at work that day, excited and in a never ending state of bliss from the night before as he drove to the shop.

except he had forgotten his whiteboard at home.

toge had realized when he was already fucking halfway into the drive, a full fledged twenty five minute one that he didn’t have time to go back and repeat as he pulled up to the parking lot— cursing himself for being such a dumbass and wondering how the fuck he was gonna answer specific questions from customers, especially since he was the only one really working today.

he figured he should be fine… right? usually the people that come in already know what to get and they just read it out to him.

but there’s always a few every single day without fail that ask questions toge needed his whiteboard for. and you didn’t have class that day— so the means of you coming down there were for nothing, at least not until the party later that night.

and he didn’t want to ask anything of you…

but he really needed it.

(toge :D): hi pretty mouseee i know you’re asleep i’m sorry but is there anyway you could come to the shop when you wake up and drop off my whiteboard please? i left it on the desk like a stupid fucking idiot EL OH EL

“inumaki.”

toge froze on his walk to open the shop and looked up from his phone, eyes blowing wide.

there his manager stood, who was also the owner of the coffee shop itself, a stern look on his face with crossed arms as they both stood in front of a shattered door and windows, shards of glass twinkling on the floor.

“did you lock up last night?”

toge nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the ground.

“everything?”

he went to nod again, but stopped.

he did… he did truly he did—

…oh.

he forgot to lock up and cash in the register.

toge quickly stepped over the glass and swung open the shattered door and over to the front counter, sure enough finding the register wide open and battered with not a single fucking penny left inside.

he groaned, his hands shooting up and digging the bases of his palms into his eyes as he leaned back, lips in a thin line at how utterly fucking stupid he was for forgetting to lock up the register and take in the money— the number one thing he was always supposed to do.

“what happened?” his manager asked, hands out. “have you been not locking it up?”

toge scrambled for his phone and pulled it from his back pocket, the thought of his job literally on the line because of this sending him for a fucking ride.

‘i always lock it up, honestly.’ he typed and showed his phone. ‘but i stupidly forgot last night and i can’t express enough to you how sorry i am.’

his manager sighed deeply and dropped his hands, looking over at the open register.

“you’ve consistently been one of my best.” he spoke. “but a mistake like this isn’t something small like forgetting to properly close and wipe down everything or put up the chairs.”

toge nodded understandingly, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he shamefully looked to the side, feeling like the biggest pathetic loser for doing something like this that could’ve been entirely avoided if he just did his damn job correctly.

“it’s alright.” his manager reached and patted a heavy hand to his shoulder. “it happens. it’s just unfortunate that we got broken into right when it did.”

toge looked at him.

“we can’t open today because there’s glass everywhere… so if you can stay and call up the insurance for the shop—” he pointed to the wall, their number amongst others typed and labeled. “—and file an insurance claim in any way you can for me that’d be great. i’m gonna go down to the police station and report.”

toge quickly nodded, typing again on his phone before showing him.

‘okay sounds good. i’m really really sorry and this won’t happen again.’

his manager waved him off with a smile. “don’t sweat, inumaki. i’m pretty sure i did this too when i was working except it was my works safe and not the register…”

softly chuckling, toge nodded once more and gave his manager a tiny wave as he patted his shoulder again before stepping around the glass, leaving.

regardless of being lucky enough to have such an understanding boss, toge still felt like complete and utter shit as he stood behind the counter slumped over after, on hold with the insurance company for thirty minutes now as he stared at the broken shards and the register.

you had gotten toge’s text the minute you woke up and quickly got up to get ready, not even bothering to change into anything different as you left with his pajamas on you and his little whiteboard, hopping into your car and speeding off knowing how much he needed it for work sometimes.

and when you pulled into the shops parking lot, confusedly already noticing scattered glass on the concrete walking up, you froze in front of the coffee shop upon seeing the windows and doors completely shattered— toge propping his forehead up with his palm on the counter solemnly.

“toge?”

he looked up.

“what happened?”

his shoulders dropped in relief and he slowly came around the counter, opening his arms a little and pulling you in as he buried his face into your hair, sighing.

you hugged him back. “are you okay? did this happen right now?”

he shook his head and stepped back, taking the whiteboard from you.

‘someone broke into the shop last night. but i forgot to lock up the register and cash in the money so they stole that too.’

“oh my god!” you gasped, hands flying over your mouth. “fuucckkkk was your manager mad? don’t tell me he fired you—”

toge erased and wrote before flipping the board over.

‘no just disappointed. but i still feel like such a fucking moron for forgetting and i hate that i did.’

“toge..” you sighed sadly, running your hands over his upper arms. “it’s okay you’re human baby. these things happen so don’t feel like that please..”

he nodded a little before ducking down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

you smiled and looked around.

“seeing the shop like this is nuts.”

he hummed in agreement.

toge stuck around for a little while, you next to him behind the counter still waiting on hold with the insurance company, feeling awfully bad for keeping you here when he knew you wanted to go shopping for a dress for the party, but him stupidly forgetting again that he couldn’t speak— too caught up in trying to make it up to his manager for his fuck up to think about how exactly he was going to talk to the insurance company on the other line, you demanding to help him.

sometime down the line when the insurance claim was filed, toge’s manager told him that if he wanted to open up the shop for the day he could, and to just sweep up the glass a little from the ground and fix up the place a little so it didn’t look like they just got robbed.

and because toge was still in his self dreaded state of guilt and shame over what happened, he immediately agreed to, trying to make up for his mistake and see if he could double the shop’s earnings for today.

“i could stay toge let me stay.” you pushed, but he only shook his head and sent you off to do the things he knew you needed to do with a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, telling you he’d see you at his place to get ready for the party.

but maybe toge was better off telling his manager a bit fat no and going home with you, because it was like everybody that came into the shop following that had eaten a big bag of dicks and salvaged the biggest fucking attitudes out of it to spit back in his face.

no one was understanding him. no one. not a single soul. even when he used his whiteboard to explain everything that certain customers needed, for some reason the extra effort of them having to just read putting them off and yelling and making toge’s shift a living hell.

and it’s not like he’s never managed shifts on his own either— never having an issue and still putting in and preparing orders efficiently like he was supposed to, but he figured the debacle from this morning was setting him off since he couldn’t do anything right at the moment, the attitude he was getting from literally every single fucking customer leaving him wishing he at least had one more person on the floor with him.

but toge was still blaming himself.

why couldn’t anyone understand him? why couldn’t he just speak? his life would be so much easier if he could… and you would’ve been his a long time ago.

so as toge sat there tiredly after work with his eyes closed on a stool next to you in his bathroom, you applying the finishing touches to your hair and makeup— you could practically feel toge’s exhaustion, frustration, and sadness seeping into your skin and insides over the shift he told you he had, your eyebrows pinching anxiously.

“we don’t have to go baby…” you murmured, looking down and playing with the rings on your fingers. “i would much rather stay here with you so you can relax for a little…”

he slowly peeled his eyes open, the sight of you standing there in front of him— so fucking beautiful in your dress and heels and dolled up in the way that you were, made his cheeks buzz pink as he slumped forward and mushed his cheek up against your tummy, wrapping his arms around you and shaking his head.

“are you sure?” you asked gently, running your fingers over his soft hair. “i don’t mind what we do toge… as long as with you i’m okay.”

his heart jumped as he looked up and gave you a cute smile, nodding.

you’d decided to meet in the middle and just go home early so toge could have enough rest for his shift tomorrow, him driving you both to the sorority house and parking a bit down the street amongst dozens of other cars, a little nervous and apprehensive and wondering what he was gonna do if any of your friends came up to talk to him— but the desire to make you happy and accompany you to something that you were so excited for far, far greater.

the night went smoothly for the most part, you in no time at all spotting your friend that initially invited you through the crowd along with some of your other friends that you had no idea were coming in the first place, introducing toge to each one and him giving a small smile and wave in response as he interlaced your fingers and gladly let you lead him to wherever you wanted through the dark and blue lit house, taking sips occasionally of the tequila orange liquor mix from his red solo cup and funnily from yours too— since you had gotten a different punch like flavor that he liked better.

“y/n? i didn’t know you were coming!”

your head snapped to the voice just as you were talking to toge, your eyes widening and a huge smile spreading across your face.

“oh hey! i didn’t know you were either!” you quickly turned to toge. “he’s in my sign language class the one i told you about that teaches us how to cuss—”

your friend laughed, “you talk about me y/n? interestinggg.”

toge quirked a brow.

“not like that—” you slapped his shoulder. “i talk about you so i can build up the stamina to rat you out.”

he gasped dramatically. “says the one who bothered me last class to teach her how to sign the word cunt.”

“no i didn’t— wait actually i did.”

your friend laughed again but diverted his attention momentarily to someone pulling on his arm a bit.

toge nudged you gently and you turned.

‘i’m gonna go get a drink mouse.’ he signed.

“okay!” you nodded. “i’ll wait for you here.”

he nodded, kissing your head before leaving— the kitchen not too far from where you both were originally at as he walked and threw away the drink he had initially and scanned the counter, looking for the fruity punch one you got before spotting it and picking one up from the rows of others, the smell of alcohol filling his nostrils.

“hey sorry to bother, which flavor is that?”

toge froze and looked over, a girl standing there and pointing at his cup.

oh shit.

toge pointed to his cup.

“yeah, which flavor is that one? i’ve tried the others but not that one yet.”

oh fuck.

why couldn’t he just talk?

the girl quirked a brow at his silence, and just when she was about to say something else, someone came through the kitchen.

“i think that one’s tutti frutti but i could be wrong.”

she turned to the other person and nodded, giving toge an awkward look before walking around him to get a cup for herself.

toge covered his eyes with a hand in complete fucking mortifying embarrassment, cheeks warm as he leaned against the kitchen sink in the lowest low he had ever lowed.

or so he thought.

because the sound of your loud pretty laughter had him slowly looking up and taking his hand away, you conversing so— so openly and freely with your friend from sign language triggering a hint of jealousy and bitterness in his chest. bitter as to why he was cursed to deal with something like this, bitter over the loser that was blatantly obviously flirting with you… but jealous of him that he was able to open his mouth and speak to you in whatever words and phrases he wanted, syllables flying out without any sort of pain or blood as a paying price like he had to.

that’s what you needed… that’s what you should have. not him.

not his inevitable silence and whiteboards and constant pauses, his lack of being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him whenever, wherever… without being tied down to a marker or a phone.

his mixup from this morning, his customers not understanding him, everybody else not understanding him, has led him to believe that someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t carry the burden of even trying to.

toge knew from the very first time you came into the coffee shop that you were going to unknowingly break his heart if he let you in because of his situation… and fuck did he let you in.

and now he had to break yours so you could find and be with what you deserved.

toge walked over to you then, head down with his jaw tight and mind fogged over as you doubled over in laughter over something your friend said.

“wait—” you gasped. “wait toge he just told me that—”

“is he your boyfriend?” you friend asked, pointing to him.

well, toge still hadn’t really asked you… but he gave you a promise ring, and you were both wearing them tonight so—

your eyes snapped to toge, who was shaking his head no.

…no?

your brows furrowed.

“oh! i thought you guys were together, my bad.”

toge twitched over the way your friend sounded relieved, but you didn’t notice a thing, still looking at him with the most gutting look that made him want to scream.

“yeah.. my bad too.” you mumbled, your friend not catching it as he then got pulled by the shoulder to a different crowd, him calling over that he would come find you later on in the night.

“no?” you repeated to him.

‘come with me outside.’ he signed before slowly walking and leading you back to the kitchen and through the backyard doors, the chilling cold night air a refreshing break from the stuffiness inside.

“if this is a joke it’s not that funny toge.” you mumbled, hugging yourself as you closed the door behind you.

he looked at you sadly.

‘you shouldn’t be with me mouse.’ he signed.

“what?” you breathed out. “what are you talking about?”

‘i can’t give you what you need.’

“what i need?”

he nodded. ‘it won’t work. you and me.’

“toge—” your chest picked up speed, tears prickling a bit at your eyes. “you’re telling me all of this yet no answers— why won’t we work.”

‘you should be with someone that can talk to you and tell you that they love you and say anything without all of this baggage—’

“wait wait slow down i can’t—” you put your hands out. “you’re signing too fast i can’t understand you—”

you couldn’t understand him.

and toge realized that the reasoning he had would be something that you would counter and fight for, and something he would more than one hundred percent give in to you winning just so he could have you again.

he needed to make you hate him so it would be easier for you to move on.

toge dropped his arms, a defeated look on his face as he shoved a hand in his pocket for his phone, typing out a message to you.

you received it on the other end, your phone illuminating your face as you opened it.

(toge :D): i realized after we confessed that this isn’t what i want anymore and im sorry

your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him.

“what the fuck do you mean.”

his thumbs shook as he typed, his heart pulling and screaming at the muscles and nerves tied to them for him to stop.

(toge :D): we’re better off as just friends. i’m really sorry that i realized after the fact. you deserve someone better anyways and i just don’t think it’s with me.

you let out a sob that ripped him to shreds, hand coming over your mouth in disbelief as you stared at the blurry screen in your grasp.

he realized this after the fact? after messing around with you for almost three years? after confessing to you and saying he loves you? after being intimate?

you felt fucking used.

“you’re realizing this now?” you shook your head. “toge— you realize we’ve been flirting like this for as long as we’ve known each other and all of a sudden you’re pulling back? after you got your fucking fill? after kissing me and telling me that you love me, and— and after—”

you ran an exasperated trembling hand through your hair. “toge we had sex and you’re telling me this isn’t what you want?”

god this is everything he wants.

but toge bit his tongue, him strained all over with a locked painful jaw as you yelled at him, his eyes glossy over how much he was hurting you as he stiffly nodded.

you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “look at me in the eyes right now and tell me if our entire fucking friendship before leading up to our bullshit confessions was all a lie. tell me right now if this—” you held your hand up, the promise ring he gave you shimmering under the fairy lights of the backyard. “—was a lie when you promised me that you would always help me and love me.”

toge breathed in and out shakily, swallowing thickly as he slowly nodded, his entire body in absolute detriment.

holy fucking shit.

how long had you been this stupid for you to not realize the kind of person he actually was?

but— but it didn’t make any sense. this wasn’t toge. this wasn’t toge at all you didn’t know who the fuck you were yelling at right now because toge would never do this to you.

“do you know why i’m learning sign language in the first place?”

toge blinked back tears, shaking his head no.

“i started taking sign language for you, asshole!” you sobbed. “when i was stupidly crushing on you at the shop before we talked for the first time, i noticed you knew sign language and i signed up for you so it’d be easier for you to communicate with me without always having to use your whiteboard.”

he felt a pang to his heart, harshly wiping his eyes.

“but even then i don’t fucking care toge! you could have absolutely nothing to talk to me with and i’d still love you and do anything for you because that’s how much i’m in love you!”

you sobbed as your shoulders shook violently, hands covering your eyes.

“glad to know the feelings not mutual.”

oh he takes it back.

he takes it all back.

toge reached for your hands and you pushed him away.

“you’re so full of shit toge.” you sniffled. “if this is what you want then fine. take this fucking—”

you slipped the ring off from your finger and threw it at him, the feeling of it thudding against his chest and clinking to the ground beneath his feet close enough to a damn bullet.

he shook his head frantically, picking up your ring and following you up the steps of the porch, grabbing your hand and pulling you back, but you only shaking it off and trudging on forward.

“mouse—” he spoke. “please stop—”

the sound of his rare voice made you freeze in place, unmoving and feeling guilt pool in your stomach at the sound of him reeling over and coughing violently as a result.

he spoke to you… but his dreaded words from earlier still lingered in your mind, betrayal etched into your chest like a tattoo.

“don’t call me that.” you mumbled over your shoulder, swinging the door open to the kitchen and slamming it shut.

toge heard nothing from you for four weeks.

even through all of the calls and texts he sent you, he started to conclude that you actually blocked his number the moment you left him that night, unable to see his actual explanation through the masses of messages he sent you and still continued to even after confirming the thought that you had blocked him.

he couldn’t believe himself. he couldn’t believe he actually hurt you and drove you away like that.

and toge had never felt so much self hatred, missing you like fucking crazy throughout those weeks— it reminding him of that one time when you first started getting to know each other where you disappeared for a week, except far far worse now that you had both built so much together over the years.

his life felt empty now that you weren’t in it.

and funnily enough, his job— something he had gotten before you, now solely reminding him of you as he tried to work without throwing something over the random flashbacks he’d have of that night, blending and serving drinks and sliding them over the pickup counter all meaningless if you weren’t there at your usual table to give him a cheeky smile and sign the word ‘cheese’ to make him laugh on the other side.

his little mouse.

and toge silently cried almost every night at his desk, him clutching your ring.

you were basically the same way as him, if not fucking lower as you were the one that was practically presumably dumped and used, you unable to sleep for hours on end in your bed and your parents wondering what the hell happened between the two of you as they tried to console your tears through your restless nights, you half in denial that this was your reality and toge was out of your life.

after some time, you realized that you had left nearly half of your things in toge’s apartment, it settling into your mind how much time you actually spent with him and not at your own house as you constantly found yourself needing things but couldn’t have them because they were over there— one of those things unfortunately being your freaking sign language textbook.

there was absolutely no way you could get it, and you opted to borrowing your friends for the longest time… but by the time you reached the beginning of the fifth week without toge, you started feeling really bad for continuously bothering your friend for her book when you could just suck it up and get yours.

so you made your jumbled mind up and reached for your phone one day after your morning class, going to toge’s contact number and unblocking him before texting.

(you): hi. sorry to bother but i left some things in your apartment that i need. i was wondering if i could come by today to get them.

toge nearly jumped out of his skin at your pretty name flashing across his phone while he was lazily and depressingly laying in bed, scrambling to type back not even a minute later.

(toge): yes of course

(toge): i’m home right now if you want to come

(toge): and you’re never a bother

you pursed your lips, a lump building in your throat.

(you): okay. i’ll be there in a few minutes.

toge flung his scattered clothing inside his closet or literally anywhere that was out of eyesight, trying to turn his rut of a room back to how it looked like when you were always here, shaking out a big garbage bag and throwing all of his trash in there (along with all of the cake pop, cheese danish, and blueberry scone wrappers…), opening the blinds and straightening out his sheets.

you pulled into his apartment complex parking lot and parked not too long after, your hands drenched in sweat and your body rigid as you came up to his floor and over to his apartment number, knocking even though you had the key.

you almost turned back to leave once you heard his padded footsteps, but decided against is as he was already opening the door.

and my god, seeing him hurt a lot more than you thought it would.

his eyes were soft as they looked at you, and red like yours, him quickly stepping to the side to let you in and you doing so with your head down, not saying a single word.

“i think—” you shakily spoke, eyes already watering as he closed his door with a click. “i think i’m just gonna get my sign language textbook for now i’ll come back some other time for the rest—”

you felt a little tug at your hand, and you turned, his shoulders slumping at your teary eyes, stray droplets slipping down your cheeks already.

‘please don’t cry.’ he signed. ‘i’m so sorry for everything.’

you snorted, shaking your head as you reached behind you to get your textbook.

“sorry for stringing me along and using every part of me until you were bored? sure.”

he frantically shook his head no, panic rising in his chest as he watched you step around him and head for the door.

he couldn’t let you leave.

because he had a feeling if he did, he actually would never see you again.

toge quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back around.

“what toge—”

‘stay for a bit.’ he shakily signed. ‘please just stay and let me explain.’

you followed his signage, and your eyes narrowed. “explain what? there’s nothing to explain—”

toge swiped his phone from his bed and opened it, going to your contact to type out a message.

you hesitantly pulled yours out and waited, your phone vibrating against your hand once he sent it over.

(toge): i lied about absolutely everything i said that night. i don’t think any of those things at all. i’ve wanted you so fucking bad from the start y/n, i’ve been ready to be with you i don’t think for a second we’re better off as friends i want more with you always and for the rest of my life.

what?

he sent another message.

(toge): i said what i said because throughout our friendship i told myself like a fucking idiot that i couldn’t let you all the way in because i can’t talk. i kept thinking that you needed someone who you can talk to you whenever you want without having to always step back and read or write like you have to with me. i didn’t want you to carry that baggage and deal with me and i just felt like a burden, and i love you so fucking much that i wanted better for you.

you sniffled and wiped your cheeks, you rubbing away lonesome tears that landed on your phone screen.

(toge): but i’m selfish baby i’ve BEEN selfish. i said those horrible things to you so it’d be easier for you to move on and im so sorry. none of them are true. i don’t want you to move on from me. i didn’t use you i could never and that night we had sex was the most meaningful experience of my life. i love you more than anything in my life, and im gonna be selfish again and please ask you to come back to me. you’re my best friend and more, and i still believe that you need someone better and that can give you more than i can, but i just can’t let you go man i’ve been physically sick for four weeks without you.

you cried still and he typed again.

(toge): i’m selfish and i’m in love with you mouse. i’m sorry.

“toge!” you cried and chucked your phone to his bed, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him in a tight embrace— the weight completely lifting off both of your shoulders at the feeling of your bodies pressed against each others like a perfect little key in a lock, toge hugging you back so so fucking tight with his face in your neck that he practically squeezed the air out of your lungs entirely.

“i love you.” he spoke, his words incredibly powerful in your ear even though it couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, the sound and depth of his voice ringing through your head and one you wanted to remember forever and ever, feeling so incredibly loved over the fact that he’d use his voice for you even when it hurt him so much.

but he really didn’t need to. you just wanted him.

and you’ve never been so happy to hear someone tell you that they lied.

toge pulled back a bit and turned his head to the side, stuffing his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughing.

you pressed your cheek against his once he was done, kissing it a few times beforehand and him closing his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin after so long.

“you okay?” you murmured softly, and he nodded.

“i love you too, toge.” you tightened your arms around his neck. “please don’t ever think that you’re a burden or giving me baggage to carry. i’ve never ever felt that way and neither should you.”

you stepped back and cupped his cheeks.

“i need you, baby. i don’t need anything or anyone else but you. someone that has the ability to talk can’t give me even ten percent of what you’ve been giving me. i’m happy with you. the happiest i’ve ever been is when i’m with you… okay?”

toge grinned, huge and shiny as he nodded and leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss— the both of you utterly deprived as your mouths smacked and moved in haste, his hands running and squeezing over your body with labored breathing between the two of you.

he pulled apart for a second and you stopped.

“what baby?” you breathed, watching as he raised his arms.

‘please be my girlfriend mouse.’ he signed. ‘or i’ll die.’

you giggled cutely and a blush rose on both of your sore cheeks from smiling so much, you happily nodding and roughly pulling him back in to continue.

and how lucky was toge to have such a sweet little mouse that cared for him this much? for someone who couldn’t even speak? who had the greatest level of patience and not once ever complained about the burden she had to carry?

you learned sign language for him. solely for him. the reasons he was thinking about how he’d be baggage to you, was amazingly the total opposite on your end, as you didn’t want to be baggage to him when it came down to communication with you— as if something like that were ever even possible.

and you learned sign language for him— a totally beautiful and different and complex language that was iterated through the feeling of arms and body, to be read across with purposeful moving hands and symbols and diligent fingers— somehow looking even more beautiful when it was you that was doing it.

silence was toge’s greatest form of love… one that you received with open arms and acceptance without a twinge of judgement in your heart, and one that toge only ever wanted you to receive.

you.

his little mouse.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tlnted-kalopsia

if you asked to be on my taglist but i missed you please let me know!! and also let me know if i accidentally tagged you but you didn’t ask GAHAHA LOVE YOUU

[minkiverse]

PARK SEONGHWA FIC RECS

Poly!Ateez Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Kim Hongjoong - Jeong Yunho - Kang Yeosang - Choi San - Song Mingi - Jung Wooyoung - Choi Jongho

HWA TIME!! A man who is so earth shatteringly gorgeous of course gets written incredibly by atiny 😩 like this man is just art!! As always, I hope you enjoy and support these authors!!

Dividers by @iluvpooks

DISCLAIMER none of these works are mine and majority are MATURE 18+, please read all warnings before reading!!!

Key:

✨ - My Favs

🔥 - Smut (MINORS DNI)

⛈️ - Angst

💗 - Fluff

🍑 - Humor

SERIES

New Horizons - @fivestar-outlaw 🔥⛈️💗 Idol AU

this is just the cutest series!! like meeting him through animal crossing is the most adorable meet cute i want to cry 😭😭 we all deserve a lil bit of delusion as a treat asfgdssfgdf

The Way to His Heart - @edenesth ⛈️💗Joseon Period ✧ Arranged Marriage AU

im a big BIG fan of historical au's and i just loved reading hwa falling for the mc and then doing everything he can to destroy the people that hurt her 😩😩 that kind of devotion is just soooooooo attractive😍😍 it kinda reminds me of the anime My Happy Marriage (which i did not finish OTL) but if you enjoyed that i think you will love this~~

Wallflower pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥⛈️💗 Office AU

seonghwa is mc's nerdy coworker but boy can he fuck 😩😩😩 the smut in this is 🤌🤌 but honestly this fic is so much more than that and how the mc changes and grows as a person because of hwa's influence is so enjoyable to read i just love them 🥹🥹

Sans - @songmingisthighs ⛈️💗🍑 SMAU ✧ Childhood Friends AU

this author really knows how to break my heart 😭😭😭 definitely be aware of trigger warnings for some chapters!!! but this fic was also so wholesome?? like i just love the mc and how they grow from the events of the story 🥹🥹 SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO SAN AND WOO!!!!

ONE SHOTS/DRABBLES/ETC

sycophant - @ncteez ✨🔥 Business AU

there will always be boss x employee fics BUT this take on it 🤌🤌🤌 hwa is just so attractively straight forward and him teaching the mc on how to dom him is truly just so fucking hot i could scream 😩😩

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU

The Thing About Pretty Boys - @wonusite ✨🔥 Friends to Lovers AU

never say seonghwa can't fuck.... or maybe do bcs this man goes fucking feral 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i had like a full body physical reaction to how hwa is written in this fic 😩😩 like this is so filthy in the hottest way possible

Dune - @hongism 🔥 Outlaw AU ✧ Biker AU

Untitled - @orgverse 🔥 Sci-fi AU

Warning Signs EP. 1: The Showman - @mphountitled 🔥Rebellion AU

Everyday at the Bus Stop - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥💗

persistent desire - @bro-atz 🔥 College AU

Untitled - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Red Dress - @wooyoungiewritings ✨🔥⛈️💗 Enemies to Lovers AU

i love a holiday/winter themed fic ok sue me 🫵🫵 its just COZY and this hwa drives me up the wall 😩😩 he's such a charming lil shit and the banter is soooooo good 🫠🫠 i looooooooove this couple!!!!!!!

Scattered bunny!seonghwa thoughts - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU

Morning sex with Seonghwa - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Untitled - @sxcret-garden 🔥

realistic sex with seonghwa - @byuntrash101 🔥

VIP Access - @hwashotcheeto 🔥 Idol AU

multiple??? - @lomlhwa 🔥 Hybrid AU

I Can See You - @daemour 🔥⛈️💗 Single Father!Hwa

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Hybrid AU

heavy and sticky - @k-hotchoisan 🔥

Untitled - @cheollipop 🔥

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥

belong to me - @ateezscupid 🔥⛈️ Idol AU

Untiled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Dragon!Teez ✧ Sugar Mommy AU

Untitled - @bombuni 💗

Honest (But Happy) Accident - @ad0rechuu 💗College AU

amazing grace - @yoongiseesawmp3 🔥⛈️💗 Church Boy!Hwa

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Bad Boy!Hwa

paradigm - @yoongiseesawmp3 ✨🔥 Bartender AU

switch!hwa nuff said 🤤🤤🤤 no but how this author does banter is just so good like idk even know how explain it because it feels so natural and charming and the smut is so fucking good like im in love with hwa and the mc ?????

The Heart's Filthy Lesson - @tenelkadjowrites 🔥⛈️ Toxic BFF!Hwa

Untitled - @hee0soo 🔥

Damnation of a Saint - @byuntrash101 🔥 7 Deadly Sins AU

My Little Empress - @holybibly 🔥 Historical AU ✧ Arranged Marriage AU

the lamb and the wolf - @seonghwaddict 🔥💗 Hades!Hwa

Make Me Water - @bangtanintotheroom 🔥 Friends to Lovers AU

Untitled - @thetypingpup 🔥 Cyberpunk AU

mirror mirror on the wall, who's the filthiest of them all - @almightyddeonghwa 🔥 Idol AU

boyfriend texts - @beenbaanbuun 🍑

[whirlybirbs]

BEYOND THE VOID — !

1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

( MASTERPOST   |   AO3  |    SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing:  a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.

"Okay."

"Okay."

There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster. 

In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.

"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague. 

"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock." 

"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.

"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"

"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"

Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.

She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.

Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"

On the other side of the door, your heart clenches. 

It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?

All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate. 

ALL I WANT  TO DO IS  GO HOME.

You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.

"Oh, uh... Hi guys."

Sigurd meows.

"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"

Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.

"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."

There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot. 

The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah. 

Like, big woah.

Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig. 

But this?

This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade. 

Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was. 

LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...? 

There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.

You swallow.

Your face is set in horror.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"

IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.

You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"

Then, it happens.

The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all. 

"Jane, don't."

Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...

Jane's face freezes.

Her brows knit.

Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"

"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.

Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."

Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.

"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"

Your eyes flicker with fear. 

And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter. 

Your voice is far away.

"It all started that Thursday."

You thought it would be better now that someone knows. 

Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future. 

It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning. 

You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not. 

So far, acting seems to be the best course of action. 

But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.

If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused. 

You hope it all works out for her in the end. 

But, Christ this coffee is bitter. 

You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am. 

Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work. 

Mondays, man.

Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior. 

Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract. 

And so this has been home for the last four months. 

Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.

No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras. 

...No Loki.

But, plenty of whispers. 

It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one. 

Your voice is soft.

"Bruce, try the equation again."

From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.

You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.

And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.

"So it was right."

"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."

Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern. 

(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)

"Now, that was mean."

"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny. 

"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it. 

Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do. 

"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"

"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now. 

"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."

"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."

"None," Tony waggles a finger.

"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you. 

"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark. 

Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.

WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK. 

You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to. 

"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."

So you've heard.

"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."

"Understandable," you mutter absently.

Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."

...Indeed.

Home.

Unit 1131. 

Lonely.

It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it". 

Now, it's none of that.

Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.

You drop your bag by the door. 

Your boots follow in a trail. 

Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.

But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.

It's that photo. 

The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.

Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.

It's you.

You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief. 

You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again. 

Regret is a hell of a thing.

Grief, too. 

How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline. 

So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.

In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

That's the mission.

Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different. 

Loki is different.

They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that. 

The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday. 

1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time. 

2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.

3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.

And now!

They're in London. 

1977, huh. Zaniac. 

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

...Unless you find him first.

Loki isn't exactly thrilled. 

No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet. 

It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone. 

And he's here, wasting his damn time. 

Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time. 

Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.

(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)

"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...

Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.

"Or he's undercover."

As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."

It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks. 

On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes. 

It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in. 

"Will there be a Zaniac Two?" 

The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact. 

"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"

Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time. 

"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"

"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki. 

The God sneers.

"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."

"Why thank you, Brad."

Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.

"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.

"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"

"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.

"No, no, uh, better—"

Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"

"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"

And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.

In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.

Your dress is green. Your hair is different.

There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis. 

"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."

You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."

Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"

Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.

"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."

The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt. 

His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin. 

"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.

Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.

Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers. 

He has to... He...

He needs you back. 

Now. 

[wcnderlnds]

false hope (part two) | peter maximoff

・❥・ summary: after getting turned down by peter, you hide away and he has to grapple with his feelings ・❥・word count: 1K ・❥・warnings: none, i think. use of she/her ・❥・ authors note: soooo @jazz-berry gave me the idea for this one and i added a little extra angst to be evil. there might be a part three eventually 👀

* PART ONE *

Peter understood not seeing you the day after the whole incident but when a day turned into two then into four, that’s when he grew concerned. Usually, he saw you at least once a day but since he’d shot you down, he was certain he hadn’t seen you leave your room. He would know, too. He’d spent the days since speeding down the hallway of your room, hesitating to knock. He’d always raise his fist then second guess himself. What if you didn’t want to talk to him? What if you hated him? So, he’d always speed away and repeat the cycle the next day.

It wasn’t like he’d meant to hurt you. Peter cared about you but he didn’t like like you. He was sure of it. Not that he had any experience to go off of in the first place. Nope, he was a bonafide virgin who’d never had a girlfriend. It wasn’t without trying but he just couldn’t ever find someone that could, well, put up with him. He knew he was a handful, that much was obvious. The only person who had accepted him for everything was you and now he’d gone and screwed that up.

The days felt like there was something missing. It was weird that he couldn’t come and find you and whisk you off on some adventure or make you smile with one of his stupid jokes. Come to think about it, you really were the best part of his days. When did that happen? When had you become so important to him and how hadn’t he realised until now? It was totally just in a friendship way. At this point he wasn’t even sure he could have feelings. If it hadn’t happened for him by now, he had the feeling it never would.

Without you, he spent the days either at home playing Pac Man in his basement or talking himself up to try and talk to you (and miserably failing everytime). Peter didn’t make friends easily. He was a likeable guy but he wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. He felt lonely without you although he wouldn’t be admitting that to anyone. Today had been a training day at the mansion so he was hanging about in hopes that you’d finally make your grand reappearance.

His headphones were around his neck, his walkman clipped to his jeans as he dashed past the common room coming to a comical halt when he saw everyone sat in there. Everyone but you.

Peter made his way into the room, jumping over the back of the couch into the free space beside Hank. He sighed dramatically but everyone kept talking between themselves, ignoring him. He just couldn’t have that. With furrowed brows, he sighed louder - and much more dramatically causing them to look at him. Finally, the attention he wanted.

“What?” Jean said.

“Soooooo, just throwing this out there, casually asking but… any of you spoke to…” Peter was cut off before he could finish.

“Yeah, I did yesterday. She’s fine,” Hank shrugged. For some reason, Peter’s insides did a little flip that he didn’t enjoy one single bit. Why would you speak to Hank of all people? He’d never even heard you talk about him before let alone know you were friends with the blue, hairy nerd.

“Great,” he said, his tone clipped, jaw tightening a little. His fingers tapped against the arm of the couch — a sure sign he was a little frustrated. Peter, the chillest guy on the planet, rarely ever got annoyed. It was the way that Hank had cut him to talk about you like he was your new best friend.

“You’re an idiot, you know?” It was Jean’s turn to chime in now. “She is…. or well, was crazy about you and you completely embarrassed her.”

“I didn’t mean to! I… didn’t want to hurt her. I would never want to. She’s my friend. I didn’t realise she liked me like that.”

“Really? It was kind of obvious, Peter. We all could see it. Kind of thought you were into her too with the way the two of you were always together,” Jean tilted her head to look at him, like she was trying. to read him. Nah, Peter was getting out of there as soon as he could. He didn’t need her poking around in his head.

“Whatever, man. It’s none of your guys’ business anyway,” Peter got to his feet with a huff. “Just tell her I’m thinkin’ about her, yeah?”

He pulled his headphones over his ears letting the music calm the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. As he walked out of the room, just as he was about to head off back home, he caught sight of you at the bottom of the stairs. His hands fumbled with his walkman pressing the button to turn it off, throwing his headphones back around his neck as he walked over to you.

“Hey,” he said almost nervously.

“Hi,” you spoke quietly, eyes avoiding looking at him.

“I’ve missed you.”

“Sorry. Needed some time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter nodded, scuffing his shoe on the floor. “I get it. Not felt the same without you around. You good?”

“I am. Uh, I… have to go. I said I’d finally come out of my room to get dinner with Hank so….” Without another word, you walked past Peter into the room where everyone was. He turned around to watch as you wrapped your arms around Hank in a big hug. Peter felt it again — the tugging in his chest, the plummeting of his stomach. Seeing someone else’s hands on you was making him burn up from the inside, his fist clenching and unclenching at his side. It was a new feeling for him, something he’d never experienced before but he knew exactly what it was.

Jealousy.

He was jealous.

“Well, shit,” he mumbled to himself.If the feelings he was feeling right now were any indication then Jean was right. He was an idiot…. and he had feelings for you.

taglist (ask to be added or removed): @xmidnight-rain @juliamaximoff @lemoniiiiiii @jazz-berry @honeymoon8 @evanpetersbf

[imaginesandbandfiction]

Second Choices

Pairing: Cassian x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: I hope this makes sense lol. I opened my planning doc for the next part of Triad, read the three sentences I had written there, and then closed it and went back to a random drabble in my notes app that exploded into this. So… enjoy, I guess? There will be three parts of this total, so click here to be added to the taglist to be notified when those go live!

Warnings: Angst, drinking, drug use (slightly forced, if you squint?), a little hint of smut at the end but it doesn't progress very far

“Y/N is a bitch,” Braelie whined, voice echoing out from the restroom’s open door. Mor sighed, snapped the cap back onto her signature red lip gloss, then turned towards Cassian’s female-du-jour. She was pretty, in an artificial sort of way. Her foundation, a shade too light, was caked on with a thick layer of matte powder that swallowed the light when it hit her face, leaving her skin dull and sullen. The dark eye makeup and too-bright lipstick made her look like a doll, and not the kind for children.

“Listen, Brae,” Mor hoped that using a nickname would soften the major blow she was about to land. She reached out and laid a light, comforting hand onto one bony shoulder. “Y/N and Cassian have been friends for a long time. I won’t lie to you, sometimes the lines get blurred when they’re both single. She’s probably having some complicated feelings, since you’re so pretty,” Mor rushed to add that last part when Braelin’s lower lip wobbled. Then she prayed to the Mother for your forgiveness and said, lowering her voice to a whisper, “she’s probably just jealous.”

That put a spark back into Braelie’s eyes, and Mor cringed. She added Cassian to her list of prayers as Braelie flounced away in search of him.

Cassian hovered with his hand on the doorknob, ready to duck out the side door to sneak in a quick smoke break while Braelie freshened up with Mor. 

Braelie was hot, sure, but Cauldron she was dumb. If Cassian had to hear the words, “wait, really?” one more time, he might not make it long enough to get her into his bed tonight. Just a few puffs of mirthroot would dull the edges of his brain enough to find her cluelessness endearing. 

She wasn’t the most exciting company, but she was reliable, and he needed that. He’d broken things off with Skyla three weeks earlier and knew that he was dangerously close to doing the one thing he wore he’d stop doing, so he went out one night, alone, and found Braelie. 

After overhearing Mor’s words, he felt guilt roiling deep in his gut. So he smoked half a joint and headed back inside. He danced with her and thought of you. Walked her home and thought of you. She invited him in for a drink and pressed her too-pink lips against his. 

He thought of you. 

Afterward, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and waited until her breathing slowed before sneaking out through the window. He shoved off of the sill and let his wings fully expand, catching the wind and sending him soaring into the early morning sky. 

—

You hadn’t meant for Cassian’s latest fling to overhear you calling her a “Cauldron-damned floozy,” but it had happened anyway. 

“She’s soooooo annoyingggg,” you slurred, taking another swig from the wine glass in your hand. You let your head fall back until it landed on Azriel’s shoulder. He chuckled and you felt his shadows nipping at your cheeks, lightly scolding you for being bitchy. They tickled like tiny, ice-cold kisses, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. “Seriously, Az. I dunno what Cas sees in her. She’s just another Cauldron-damned floozy, good for keeping his bed warm and not much else.” 

Mor had managed to redirect Braelie towards the restrooms after that, leaving you alone in the booth with Az, completely oblivious. 

Azriel’s shadows had alerted him to her presence, and a smirk graced his lips. He sensed some major drama brewing and relished in his position at the sidelines. 

“Why, Y/N, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous,” he drawled. You let your head loll to the side so you could glare at him, which coaxed a bark of laughter from his lips. 

—

The first coherent thought you had the next morning was water. I need water. You dragged yourself out of bed and trudged into the bathroom, gulping mouthful after mouthful straight from the faucet. 

But water could only do so much for a hangover, so you threw a robe over your pajamas and tiptoed down the Townhouse stairs. It was nearing noon but, based on the disheveled state everyone had returned in last night, you didn’t want to risk waking anyone and incurring their hungover wrath. 

Outside the kitchen, you heard low, muffled voices and paused to listen before entering. Mother forbid you end up interrupting Cassian and Braelie’s post-coital feast. Cauldron, even her name was annoying. 

“I just don’t understand why Y/N would say something like that,” you heard Cassian say, wincing as memories from last night flooded your brain. 

“Look, Y/N’s your best friend, I’m sure she’s just feeling put out now that you’re spending so much time with Braelie,” Az said, careful to keep his tone neutral. 

“Well she doesn’t have to be such a bitch about it.” 

You turned away and snuck back up the stairs to change into real clothes, deciding that breakfast at your favorite cafe was in order. Preferably paired with a mimosa or five. 

— 

Az sighed and took a sip of tea to buy himself some time to think. He’d stayed up with Mor until sunrise, talking about their clueless friends. 

While your comments about Cassian’s love life had been funny the first few times, after more than three decades, it was getting old. They recognized a pattern repeating itself ad nauseam; Cassian gets a new girlfriend, you distance yourself from him and start grumbling about the girls’ flaws, then when Cas eventually dumped her you’d be back to being best friends like no time had passed at all. And if you both happen to be single, well, sometimes after smoking too much mirthroot you’d end up all over each other. In a friendly way, of course. 

This time, though, you’d been much more open about your hatred for Braelie despite the fact that she was one of the more tolerable ‘floozies’  they’d had to deal with over the years. She was dumb but harmless, and soon enough Cassian would tire of her, resetting the cycle once again. 

So they’d decided to divide and conquer; Mor was going to try and get it through your thick skull that you’re in love with Cas, while Az was tasked with showing the General what was right in front of him. 

Easier said than done. So he decided to go for the jugular. 

“Well, it’s not like you have the best track record with females. Maybe Y/N’s gotten tired of playing nice when you’ve got someone new on your arm every other week.”

“Last I checked that wasn’t a crime.” 

Az held his hands up, raising one eyebrow at Cas. 

“Don’t shoot the messenger. If it’s really bothering you, why don’t you talk to her? I’m sure if you asked her to lay off Braelie she would.”

Cas ducked his head to hide the heat rushing to his face and mumbled something incoherent into his chest. 

“Sorry, brother, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of my shadows laughing at your blush.”

“I broke up with her this morning,” Cas growled, tightening his grip on the mug in his fist. 

Azriel cackled, laughter only growing louder when Cas glared at him. 

“It’s not funny,” Cas insisted, launching his teaspoon over the table. Az’s shadows caught it before it could make contact, turning Cas’s glare into a downright glower.  

“Alright, alright, it’s not funny. You’re just predictable, that’s all.” 

After stewing in silence for a few minutes, Cas felt his self control crumbling. Words bubbled up from his chest, through his throat, and then he was rambling. 

“I overheard Mor telling Braelie that Y/N was jealous of her,” he pushed his chair back and started pacing back and forth across the kitchen. “And at first I thought, no way, that’s crazy, if Y/N was jealous I would know. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She always gets weird whenever I’m dating someone, right?”

“Maybe you should talk to her about it,” Az suggested, leaning back in his seat. Just a friend offering a casual, off-the-cuff solution to a problem he knows nothing about. 

“Yeah, maybe…”

—

Mor tracked you down later that afternoon, sprawled out on a blanket next to the Sidra and halfway through a bottle of vintage red imported from the Summer Court. 

“Heyyy,” you greeted her, pushing yourself up into a sitting position and holding the bottle out towards your friend. “Come to join the pity party?” 

Mor eyed you, curiosity and amusement sparking behind her honey brown eyes, and she accepted your offering. 

“And why are we having a pity party?” she asked, plopping down next to you and taking a long pull from the bottle. 

“Cause I fuck everything up, duh.” You flopped back down, this time onto your stomach. “Cassian hates me, but whatever. I’m sure he and Braelie are going to be very happy together.”

Mor had to force her eyes not to roll at your drunken dramatics. 

“I’m gonna find a boyfriend, that way when they break up Cas can’t come crawling back to me with his dick in his hand. See how he likes it.” You made grabby hands for the bottle but Mor shook her head, keeping it held just out of your reach. 

“Or you could try telling him how you feel?” She suggested, casually, as she took another sip. 

You scoffed, hiccuping giggles following as you struggled to keep your composure as mixed emotions ebbed and flowed through your body. 

“Tell him how I feel? Should I tell him it makes my skin itch whenever he dances with another girl? Tell him that I haven’t been able to finish with anyone else since the first time he fucked me? Or maybe I should tell him that he’s my mate, good idea, Mor. Maybe that will make him fall in love with me!” 

Mor let her eyes roll this time, patting you on the back. But when you flipped onto your back, she saw the pain and longing etched into the lines on your face and stared deep into your eyes, waiting for you to laugh and say it was just a joke. 

Unease settled in her stomach. 

“Wait, you’re serious, aren’t you?” she asked. 

“He’s my Cauldron-damned mate, and he doesn’t even know it. He’s too busy burying himself in the hordes of females fawning all over him to notice how much it hurts.” 

“Y/N…how long have you known?” 

“Four years,” you whispered, throwing an arm over your eyes to hide your tears from your oldest friend.

“Oh, babe,” she sighed, tugging you up into her arms. The dam behind your eyes broke and sobs wracked your body while the gears in Mor’s brain started turning. 

When you finally settled in her lap, tears dried up, she hauled you to your feet. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” 

All you managed to mutter was, “Not the Townhouse,” before she winnowed you away.  

—

Cassian dodged Azriel’s attempts at cheering him up in favor of sulking at the kitchen table all day, waiting for you to wake up. 

When it was nearing dinner time, he sighed and put together a tray of tea and pastries to bring up to you as a peace offering. But after knocking politely on your door for five minutes straight, worry started worming its way into his stomach and he threw open the door to reveal your bed, perfectly made and empty. 

“Fuck,” he growled, throwing the tray down the hallway where it crashed against the wall, broken bits of pottery clattering to the ground. He’d wasted all day waiting for you when you were out doing Mother knows what with Mother knows who. 

Screw apologies, he was on a warpath now.  

He trekked through the busy streets of Velaris looking for any sign of you, starting at Amren’s apartment and making his way through your favorite shops and restaurants with no success. Just when he was about to give up, assuming you were holed up with a male somewhere, he saw Mor ducking into one of the small cafes near the Sidra. 

“Mor!” he shouted, jogging to catch the door before it closed behind her. She turned around, and a look of shock flashed across her face before it smoothed into cool indifference. 

“Cassian,” she said, nodding at him before turning to the hostess stand. “I’m here to pick up a takeout order for Morrigan.” 

The hostess nodded and disappeared into the kitchen to grab the food. Cas reached out and grabbed Mor’s wrist, tugging her around to face him.  

“Where is she?” he asked, barely able to contain the rage flowing through his veins. 

“Not now, Cas,” Mor sighed, wrenching her arm from his grasp. “Trust me. Just give her some space.” 

“I can’t,” he growled, siphons glowing as if they were attempting to warn her that his magic was sizzling just beneath the surface. It felt like something was pulling him along, the desire to find you growing stronger the longer he looked. “I need to find her. Please, Mor.”

The hostess came back and handed a bag to Mor, who promptly turned around and dumped it into Cas’s arms. 

“Fine, then you can take this up to the House of Wind for me. I have some errands to run, you have an hour.” Cas’s face relaxed and he nodded, about to open his mouth to thank her when she waved a hand at him to dismiss him. 

But when they were back outside, she turned around to flash a sickly sweet smile at him. 

“Oh, and Cassian?” His eyes widened as he froze in place, wings spread and ready to take off. “If you hurt her, I will feed you to Bryaxis.” 

With that, she disappeared and Cassian took to the skies wondering what would be waiting for him when he arrived. 

— 

On the back deck of the House of Wind, you stood leaning against the railing, music swirling around you as you watched the sun sink behind the buildings of Velaris below. Lights blinked on one by one until the whole city was filled with twinkling stars.

With a joint in one hand and a glass of wine in the other, your mind was finally, blissfully, numb. Only the subtle ache deep in your core served as a reminder of your unfortunate situation, but even that was starting to dull. 

Of course, your peaceful night had to be ruined by the one male you had no desire to see. The sound of flapping wings and rushing of air past your face gave you a split-second warning, and then Cassian dropped to the ground behind you. 

You turned around and held the hand with the joint lazily balanced between two fingers at your forehead. 

“General Bloodshed, or whatever the fuck,” you said, wobbling on unsteady feet as you saluted him. Then you lowered your hand and took a long drag, holding the smoke in your lungs for as long as physically possible before letting it out in a steady stream pointed in his direction. “Come to fight for your fair maiden’s honor, or just to rub it in my face that you’re getting laid and you don’t need me anymore?”

“Y/N,” he said, all the anger draining from his body as he took in the bags under your eyes and the heavy winter clothes hanging off your frame even though Summer was right around the corner. It was like he was seeing you for the first time after a long mission away, noticing how much weight you’d lost, how tired your body looked. 

He set the food down on one of the lounge chairs and took slow, careful steps towards you. 

“Y/N,” he repeated, “What’s going on?”

“Nothin’, Cassie, nothin’ at all,” you said, pausing to hiccup before continuing. “I don’t care about Braelie, I don’t care about you, I don’t care about anything.” You thrust your arms out wide and turned to face the sunset, which was now casting a golden glow onto Velaris. “I’ve got a hot date with my fingers later, and I probably won’t even think about you.”

Cas ignored the heat flaring up low in his belly at the mental image that flashed behind his eyes. 

“Hey,” he whispered, coming up next to you and prying the joint from your hand. “Gimme that.” 

You turned to face him, lower lip stuck out in a pout. 

“Why? So you can leave me here and go get high with Braelie? I bet she’s real mouthy. You like em loud, don’t you? Like when females beg for that big Illyrian cock?”

Your voice got higher and higher, becoming breathless as you rambled on, letting all of your deepest, darkest, pent-up thoughts and feelings fall from your lips. Even though you knew you’d regret it in the morning, in the moment it felt so good to let them go. 

“Y/N, stop, just take a breath. I’m not going to leave you, okay!” Cassian stubbed out the joint and tossed it aside, putting his hands on your shoulders to force you to look at him. “I’m not going to see Braelie, I broke up with her this morning.” 

Your eyes glazed over as you looked him up and down, a lazy smirk blooming on your lips. 

“Ohhhh, I see how it is,” you drawled, waving a hand to summon the joint to you. Snapping your fingers to spark it back to life, you took another deep hit and then stuffed the unlit end into Cas’s mouth. He tried to protest but you held firm until he finally inhaled. Its effects hit immediately, and you watched as his shoulders drooped, muscles relaxing. With a wicked grin, you dropped from his loosened grip to your knees, palming his dick through his leathers. “Want me to kiss it better, put your broken heart back together?” 

A war waged behind Cas’s eyes; on the one hand, the mirthroot was clouding his judgment and lust threatened to take over at the sight of you looking up at him with wide eyes.  

On the other hand, he had set out to make things right, to talk to you and figure out the true nature of your feelings for him. Sleeping with you would send the wrong message. 

“Y/N, stop,” he grunted, pulling his hips back and shoving your hand away. 

“What?” you asked, your pout back in full force. “Want me to beg for it first, cause you know I will? Know I’ll give you anything you want?” You shoved yourself up to your feet, pushing onto your tiptoes so your narrowed eyes bore right into Cassian’s. 

He felt the tension that had been building all day melt away—the anger, the frustration, the confusion—all of it was gone with a snap of golden magic that flooded his body. 

You felt it, too, from your side of the bond, could see the moment it registered behind those hazel eyes. It felt like the bond was on your side, snapping just in time to help you prove a point.

“I’m done being your second choice, mate,” you snarled, plucking the joint from his hand before turning around and stalking into the house, leaving him stranded alone in the darkness. 

[bluemari23]

cake cake cake | jeon jungkook

summary: your boyfriend eats the cake for a party and thinks he can get away with it

pairing: jeon jungkook x baker owner reader

genre: fluff, lil angst, established relationship

warnings: none

masterlist

------------------------------------------------------

“Now what did we say?” You had your hands on your hips as you looked to your boyfriend, a fork in his hand and a piece of cake in his mouth.

“That we wouldn’t eat the cake until after dinner.” Jungkook murmured the agreement you came to earlier, right after you made said cake, having at least a little decency to look guilty.

You stared at your boyfriend, trying to figure out why he decided it would be okay to start eating the cake you spent almost a day baking, having to let it cool for a couple hours before you iced it. 

It was the day of the 10th anniversary party for Bangtan’s debut and you were asked, well, more like bribed by Jimin and Taehyung to bake the cake this year. They could never get enough of your baked goods, often doing whatever they could to sneak them from the bakery whenever they showed up.

“Baby, I’m sorry! It just looked so good! I couldn’t help myself.” Jungkook got up from his seat at the kitchen island and moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and trying his hardest to pout his lips as he spoke. 

“Everything you bake is just soooooo good, baby!” Jungkook knew he needed to up his antics, now trying to turn you away from the cake and press you against the island, stepping in between your legs to get even closer to you. 

You just let him move you around, enjoying whenever he manhandled you. You couldn’t help it, you found Jungkook’s strength so attractive. You watched him lean in, kissing you on the lips and then felt as he slowly moved down, kissing your jaw and then down to your neck where he knew you soft spot was. 

A sigh left your lips once he found it and your grip on his bicep weakened just a little. Jungkook knew he had you where he wanted you. He could see the anger leaving your body, the tension leaving your shoulders as you relax even further into his grip, allowing him to grab you by your hips and sit you on the counter behind you. 

“I’m still mad at you.” You let out, sighing at the feeling of him against you. Jungkook couldn’t have that though, and pulled back a little bit so he could see the small pout against your lips. 

“Please forgive me, baby. I’ll do anything.” He had no clue that he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do, playing right into the palm of your hand. 

Secretly, you had made a second cake, just in case something happened to the first one. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the boys had gotten into the cake before it was time, you just didn’t expect it to be your boyfriend this time. 

But you didn’t let him know that, yet.

“Anything?” You questioned, pulling back from him again and resting your hand on his shoulder. 

Jungkook looked a little taken back, but still nodded his head at your question. He really did feel bad that he let his impulse take over and eat the cake you worked so hard to make for their party.

“I’ll think about my request later. For now, will you get the cake out of the freezer and put it in the box? We’re going to be late for the party.” You pushed him away so you could get down, trying hard not to laugh at the dumbfounded expression on his face. 

“What? Baby, what do you mean?” Jungkook called out after you but you just shut the door to the bedroom behind you. 

Walking over to the freezer, Jungkook sees an almost identical cake to the one he almost finished eating. 

“Aish, this girl.” He laughed out, seeing now he had been played, intentionally or not. Either way, he still did as he was told, carefully placing the finished cake into the carrying box you had left out on the counter. 

It had been a while since you got in a teasing mood, and he couldn’t wait to see what you thought was an adequate punishment for him later tonight. 

[daechwitatamic]

All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t || MYG

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: All That Holly, Jolly Sh*t

WC: 11k

Genre: exes to lovers, the babiest angst straight to fluffy smut (they’ve got shit to work out, but they get there!!)

Summary: You haven’t seen or heard from Yoongi since he broke your heart five years ago, laying out a logical list of reasons why you were better off breaking up. When a Christmas Eve blizzard traps you together for the night, you have no choice but to examine how few of those reasons are still true. And if they’re not… where does that leave you?

Rating: NSFW - minors DNI

Warnings: manbun!yoongi YES THAT IS A WARNING, drinking, language, kissing, breast play/nip stim, fingering, unprotected sex with bc (be safer than this!!!), multiple orgasms (f), penetrative sex, soft idiots in love 

A/N: Merry Christmas, Kelly!!!! @here4btsfics I was soooooo excited to pull your name for @bangtansecretsanta because it gave me such a good opportunity to get to know you better and start talking to you! I really, really hope you love this little Christmas fic! 

I know you said no angst so just a lil disclaimer, a synopsis I messaged my beta was "it hurts for a hot minute but then they kiss about it and everyone is fine" so I think you'll be okay!!!

Huge thank you to @kookstempo @moonleeai and @cherrysoulth for beta-ing and to @itaeewon for the gorgeous banner!

“Anything new with you? How’s work?”

You plaster on what you hope is a friendly smile and not a sarcastic one. Seokjin’s girlfriend is super nice, you remember her from a party over the summer, but you do not want to talk about work right now. You want to drown yourself in another cinnamon toast crunch cocktail and double-fist those iced, reindeer-shaped brown-sugar cookies. 

You admit to being a little bit on edge. 

You’ve attended Taehyung’s annual Christmas party every year since you left for college. It’s tradition, and it’s one of the only times each year that the whole group is back together again after you all went your separate ways in the world. 

Except, for the last five years, Yoongi hadn’t attended. You never thought too much about why - too busy, other plans, just the fact that he’s an absolute Grinch… or maybe it’s your presence that keeps him away. You didn’t waste too much time thinking about it. You’re just always happy he isn’t there.

Until this year.

No one even had the decency to shoot you a warning text. Hey, heads up, your ex is here, very unexpectedly.

You knock back the rest of your drink and head to make yourself a new one.

You normally attach yourself to Jimin at these, but he’s betrayed you this year by bringing an absolutely gorgeous date. They’re currently hogging the doorway with mistletoe above it. You make a mental note to remind him tomorrow that the PDA thing stops being cute after a while.

“Work’s good,” you say, finally answering the question. “Nothing new. How about you and Jin? All good?”

“Nothing new to report!” she grins. Then, the smile slips off her face a little as she glances at her phone. She notices you watching and grimaces. “Sorry,” she says, “I’m not trying to be rude, I’m just keeping an eye on the radar. The storm tonight is supposed to get nasty.”

“Hey! What’s the rule tonight?” a voice bellows from the living room. It’s Taehyung, perched against the back of one of his couches, and he points an accusatory finger at the girl you’re talking to.

She must know something you don’t, because while you’re baffled, she looks chagrined. “Don’t talk about the blizzard,” she recites by rote. 

“Don’t talk about the blizzard,” he repeats. “Have another drink. It’s Christmas Eve, we welcome the snow.”

“You’re the only person I know who’s optimistic enough to try to throw a party on a night they’re calling for the storm of the century,” Seokjin tells him, making his way into the kitchen - probably to protect his girlfriend from Taehyung’s scoldings. 

“They say that every time,” Taehyung scoffs, waving a hand. Then he’s up and moving, heading towards the dining room, where a spread of food is laid out. 

There must be more people in there, you think, because the kitchen and the living room are definitely looking a little less crowded than they were an hour ago. Yoongi and Hoseok are on the couch, glasses in hand, talking quietly. The tv, mounted high on the wall, plays a classic Christmas film in black and white. You stop before the balcony doors, peering out into the night. The lamps that line the parking lot glow orange, and you can see in the lamplight that snow is falling steadily, and it’s starting to accumulate a little on the pavement below. 

Jimin comes up beside you. His date’s lipstick is still smudged in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a hot mess,” you tell him affectionately. 

“I think we’re gonna head out,” he tells you, ignoring the jab.

You shake your head, your earrings glittering in your reflection in the glass. “It’s not even nine,” you point out.

“The roads are going to get slick,” he tells you, suddenly serious. “You should think about getting an Uber before too long, too.”

“You’re going to break Taehyung’s heart,” you inform him. “I think he’s starting to catch on that people are leaving.”

“He should have rescheduled the party!” Jimin says hotly; he and Taehyung had argued about this passionately all week, ever since the forecast picked up on the storm coming through. “We could have done this yesterday, no blizzard, everyone would have stayed all night!”

Jimin’s date slinks over and presses her hand to his upper back. “Ready?” she asks, voice like silk. 

“Bye,” you tell him sulkily. In the reflection, you watch him pause to tell Yoongi and Hoseok goodbye. They each stand, reaching in one at a time to give him a quick one-armed hug goodbye. 

You keep watching the reflection in the glass as Hoseok takes advantage of already being up and heads for the dining room.

You knew it would happen at some point tonight - you’re alone in the living room with Yoongi. You’d just hoped it would happen after you were a lot drunker. 

He meanders over. You glance at the drink in his hand - whiskey, neat. You could have guessed that on a gameshow and earned some money. 

He’s dressed in all black - down to the chelsea boots. His hair is half-up in a bun that sits just behind the crown of his head. The rest brushes the tops of his shoulders, curling slightly at the ends. 

He’d never had long hair like this before. It’s a crime how fucking good it looks. 

Your gameplan tonight has been simple: avoid, avoid, avoid. But Yoongi stands close enough to reach out and touch you, sips at his whiskey, and murmurs, “It’s been a while.”

Five years. But who’s counting? 

“It has,” you allow. You hate confrontation, you don’t want this to be a thing. You’re determined to be polite, play nice, and hopefully get out of here unscathed. “How have you been? Are you enjoying yourself?” 

He wiggles his head. “Eh. You know I’m not into all that holly, jolly shit.”

“It’s a Christmas party,” you point out flatly. “Holly, jolly is kind of the point.”

He shrugs. “The point for me is just to see the guys, catch up with everyone. It’s been a long time since we were all together.”

He means we the guys, not we you and him. But your heart still speeds up at the word, the traitor.

You nod, turning away from him to look outside again. But your eyes stay on his reflection, both of you standing with your backs to the party. He looks down at his drink, swirls the amber liquid around the bottom of the glass.

“You always did hate the holidays,” you observe absently. 

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he says, so gently that it shocks you into turning to look at him.

“Do what?”

“Rehash everything,” he says with a shrug. “Talk about everything we remember. Talk at all.”

“If you don’t want to talk to me, then don’t,” you snap, suddenly defensive and heated. “You came over here, not the other way around.” So much for polite and non-confrontational. But damn, he has some audacity.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, a little quickly, holding up his one empty hand like he’s surrendering. “I just meant… don’t feel like you have to, if you don’t want to. Don’t do it for my sake.”

Your temper settles, but you still feel a little… disgruntled, unsettled. “If I didn’t want to talk to you, I wouldn’t be,” you grumble. 

He smiles at this. “That’s right. You never do anything you don’t want to do.”

Maybe that used to be the case. 

The liquor takes over your mouth. “I didn’t want to break up,” you say pointedly, “so I guess that’s not true.”

He huffs out a single laugh, shaking his head at your audacity. “You always just say shit,” he murmurs. “To hell with the consequences.”

“What consequences?” you demand, turning to face him fully. “Are you going to dump me more? I fail to see how I could make things worse for us after five years of not speaking.”

He licks his lips, eyes on his glass again. That was the thing about you and Yoongi - he’s right, you did just say shit. And he always just handled it. He always heard you, processed it, and dealt with it productively. He never took the bait and got mad back, never yelled - even when you’d wished he’d yell. 

“It’s because,” he’d told you, sometime around seven years ago, when you were together, “when you say absolutely wild shit like that, you always mean something else. And I just happen to be very good at translating you.”

Now, he meets your eyes again, having processed. Having translated. “What I’m hearing you say,” he says slowly, “is that you’re still mad at me.”

That’s all it takes to take the wind out of your sails - that’s always how it worked with you and Yoongi. You blustered and got worked up, and he defused you easily - just by meeting your gaze, just by assuring you that you were heard. 

“I think I’m mad at our circumstances,” you correct quietly. “And I think I’ve had too many of these.” You eye the cocktail in your hand with narrowed, accusatory eyes.

He gives you the barest sliver of a smile. “Don’t blame the drinks,” he says, shaking his head. “You never could lie to me - it has nothing to do with alcohol.”

He’s right. For all your faults, for all the negatives you can take credit for, you always told him the truth.

Namjoon appears in the living room, a beer in hand, still in the bottle. 

“I’m trying to decide which one of you needs to be rescued from the other,” he admits, looking between you, “and I honestly can’t tell.”

“Rescue him from me,” you say. “He’s been nice and I’ve been prickly.” 

“You?” Namjoon says in mock surprise. “Prickly? No way.”

You flip him off, smiling. 

Seokjin comes up behind Namjoon, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think we’re going,” he says, looking past you to the snow outside. “I don’t want to drive once the roads are slick.”

Namjoon sighs, following his gaze. “I was having fun,” he says sadly. “But I’m probably not too far behind you.”

“Nooo,” Taehyung whines from the dining room. “Everyone stop leaving! It’s just a little snow!”

Seokjin’s girlfriend finds him, joining your little circle, her phone still in her hand. “We’re supposed to have almost three inches by midnight,” she says in a whisper, clearly not wanting Taehyung to come after her. “We need to get moving.”

When Seokjin and his girlfriend leave, you float back towards the dining room. Namjoon and Yoongi stay behind, talking quietly. Probably, Namjoon is checking to make sure you weren’t too mean to him. Which… that’s fair. 

The truth is, you aren’t mad at Yoongi. How could you be? When he ended things, he hadn’t been cruel, or unfair. His decision had been made logically. You understood exactly why he felt he needed to do it.

That’s where the hurt came from, you figured. You were always led by your emotions - quick to anger, but quick to laugh. Yoongi was always more even-tempered, logical. While you were packing up your life to move away from home for university, he’d laid out the reasons you shouldn’t stay together like they were a grocery list. 

Like it didn’t hurt him at all. 

None of his reasons were wrong. But would it have killed him to act like he cared? You’d been together three years - and you felt like they should count more, since they were such formative ones. Like dog years - each one should have counted for seven. It had broken your heart to let him walk away - shouldn’t he have felt something, too?

You’d dated plenty in college, a few of those relationships getting serious enough to last a few months. But at the end of the day, nobody compared to your first love. How could they? How could anyone? 

No one understood you like Yoongi. No one could translate you like Yoongi. No one knew - or learned - how to settle you down like Yoongi. No one had that mental encyclopedia of useless knowledge like Yoongi. No one else had that perfect blend of dry and earnest like Yoongi. No one else fit to your body like a puzzle piece like Yoongi. 

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter then, and it doesn’t matter now. Yoongi had left, Yoongi had taken the decision right out of your hands and walked away with it. You weren’t mad at him, but you definitely resented that.

You’d had years to get over it, to forgive him, to come to terms with the fact that he was right about every single thing. But forgiveness and understanding are one thing. Letting go - of him, of loving him - is something else entirely, and you’re starting to think that even a lifetime of years won’t be enough for that.

That’s enough of that, you think, giving yourself a rough mental shake. You set down your drink glass and head for the bathroom, but it’s occupied. You lean against the wall outside, counting your breaths, trying to get yourself back into that holly, jolly headspace. 

The door opens and Jungkook emerges, singing under his breath, “Pah-rum-pum-pum-pum!”

“Hi, JayKay,” you say, moving to slide past him into the bathroom.

“Oh, hey!” he says brightly. “I was just about to leave. You have a way to get home, right? It’s getting worse out there.”

“I was just going to Uber,” you tell him.

“Better do it soon,” he warns. “Soon the drivers aren’t going to want to be on the roads.”

“Good point,” you say, and wave a quick goodbye before shutting the bathroom door. You give yourself a stern look in the mirror.

Get it together, please, you think firmly. Seeing your ex - this ex, too, not just a casual one - for the first time in five years earns you a little wallowing, you think, and you fully intend to. At home. Later. Not here, in front of everyone. 

Not here, in front of him. 

Back in the kitchen, the party has really dwindled down to the last few people. Outside, snow falls as steadily as Taehyung’s guest list. 

The peer pressure gets to you, and you pull out your phone and open a ride-share app. It takes a while before a driver connects, but you’re persistent. Once you have a driver, you watch the little image of their car start to head in your direction on the map.

From the dining room, you hear Yoongi make a tch of frustration. “No one is picking up for me,” he grumbles, seemingly to himself. 

“Good,” Taehyung says seriously. “Don’t leave me.”

You go find your coat, slipping your arms into the sleeves and doing up each button. When you return to the dining room, Yoongi and Taehyung are the only ones left. Taehyung is fully, blatantly, sulking, his arms crossed on the table and his chin resting dejectedly atop them.

“Better luck next time, bud,” you tell him kindly. 

Yoongi is still squinting at his phone screen, frowning.

You feel a twinge of concern, of the need to make it better for him the way you used to on a regular basis. “Still nothing?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t even see anyone on the map.”

You check your phone again - your car is just up the road. “I have one,” you tell him. “Join mine - we’ll just request the extra stop.”

Yoongi meets your eyes, holds your gaze for a minute. Then, he says, so seriously, “Are you sure?”

You know he means it. You know if you give any indication that you don’t want him in a car with you, he won’t push it. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Of course. I’m not going to leave you stranded here.”

“Why not?” Taehyung whines, kicking his feet a little in protest. 

“My car’s just here though,” you warn, eyes on your screen, both of you absolutely ignoring the host of the party. 

“I’ll grab my coat,” Yoongi says, and heads for the hallway.

“Sorry, Taehyung,” you say sympathetically. “I know you’re sad.”

He refuses to look at you. 

After giving over-the-top goodbye hugs to try and un-sulk the whiny baby, you and Yoongi head down the stairs and outside. You don’t look behind you to check that Yoongi is following. The car idles by the curb, and you double-check the license plate against the app. 

In the backseat of the car, you slide over to make room for Yoongi. As soon as he closes his door and the car lurches into motion, the vibe changes. You sit stiffly, ramrod straight, eyes on the windshield. Yoongi’s not sitting quite as straight as you, but there’s a tightness to his shoulders, like he’s holding himself carefully so he doesn’t touch you by accident with the car’s inertia. 

You had put in your parent’s address when you requested the ride, since that’s where you’re staying until New Years’ Day. You and Yoongi sit in blasting, blaring silence as the car crosses the middle of the town you’d both grown up in, that you’d run around in together as teenagers in love. But, past town, towards the quiet neighborhood where your parents’ house is, the car slows to a stop.

“I can’t go through this way, Miss,” your driver says, peering at you through the rearview mirror. “There’s a powerline down up there.”

“Oh shit,” you say, which is probably not very polite of you. You lean forward to look at the same time Yoongi does, your shoulders bumping. You both recoil quickly. 

“I think you can get to the development from the other side,” you muse, “but we’d have to backtrack and go around the lake on the other side…”

“Let’s just go to my place,” Yoongi interjects. “The roads are getting worse, and it’s close.”

You frown. Yoongi’s parents’ house - which you’d been to plenty of times as a younger person - is on the other side of town. Not close by your standards, but you aren’t here to argue.

Or maybe you are.

“I don’t know, Yoongi,” you say, uncertainty creeping into your voice. “How will I get home from there?”

“You might have to stay,” he admits, leaning down to better look at the road through the front windshield. The driver sits, watching you debate, waiting for a directive. 

You give Yoongi a silent look like, okay, and so you see my problem?

He scoffs at you. “It’s fine. We can handle one night.”

You want to ask, how sure are you about that? Instead, you start to tell the driver Yoongi’s parents’ address. 

“Wait,” Yoongi says, putting a hand gently on your arm to stop you. You both freeze, looking at the point of contact. Yoongi shakes himself out of it first, and tells the driver a different address. 

The car shifts back into drive and you look at Yoongi quizzically.

“Did your family move?” you ask finally.

Here’s the thing. You know Yoongi, you get Yoongi; five years apart hasn’t changed that at all. So when he licks his lips, shifts his gaze to his feet, and starts rubbing the back of his neck, you know it’s guilt.

“Yoongi?” you prod, suspicious.

He mumbles something, still not looking at you.

“What?” you snap. “You what?”

“I sort of moved back last month…” he repeats to the floor. 

“You live here?” you repeat, dumbfounded. “You live in town again?”

“Currently, yeah,” he says, and there’s something in that currently that you’d really like to examine, but you’re still fucking floored. 

Yoongi had gone to university in the city - hours away. The distance thing was reasons one through four of his Why We Need to Break Up list. It had made sense, logistically. It made sense when you went abroad for university, and he stayed here. It made sense when you returned and got an internship and then a full-time job in a different city, hours in the opposite direction. It made sense when you managed to go five entire years without being in the same place.

But now he was here. Reasons one through four, moot. 

Reasons five to whatever largely revolved around being young and needing to experience the world and figure out what you want in life, that kind of shit. Now it’s five years later and you’ve both experienced plenty of bullshit.

Reasons five through whatever, moot. 

You wonder, wordlessly, heart pounding again, if Yoongi knows or cares that every reason he gave you to validate walking away no longer applies. 

“You live here,” you repeat. You’re stuck on it, you can’t move on. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah,” he says guiltily. “I know you didn’t. I… was honestly fighting with myself about if I should reach out or not. I guess I ultimately decided not… since you’re in the city, and you have your whole life and everything…”

What life? You wonder. 

The car pulls into a small, understated neighborhood. You’ve been here before; your chemistry partner from tenth grade lived in this development, you’d come to do homework more than once.

It’s always so weird to come back to this town, where everywhere you go has memories, secondary definitions. It’s not just a library, it’s the library where Yoongi had kissed you for the first time. It’s not just a park, it’s the park where you’d had your first fight, where you’d screamed at him in front of God and the ducks and all the moms pushing strollers. It’s not just a diner, it’s the diner where Yoongi had told you that it made no sense to try and stay together from different time zones. 

Everything came back to him. It always had. It always does. In a lot of ways, you felt like you were fated to be tied to him this way - and you usually didn’t believe in shit like that. 

You always break your own rules for him.

The place is small, and not very Yoongi-ish, but you keep your thoughts to yourself as Yoongi slides out of the car and waits for you. 

“Get home safe,” you tell the driver before closing the door. Yoongi’s got his house keys in his hand, and he leads you up the walkway. It’s slick, and you try to step only in the footprints he leaves in the inch of snow coating the ground.

Inside, the light over the sink illuminates a small, mostly empty kitchen. That’s not very Yoongi-ish either, you think. You remember him cooking all the time - appliances everywhere, cutting boards hanging, pots and pans stored on hooks. 

He passes the kitchen and enters what looks like the living room, reaching to click on a few dim lamps. They cast a yellow glow to the room.

You set down your purse and fold your coat up on top of it. Yoongi waits for you in the living room, his hands in his pockets, his eyes on the window, watching the snow. His jawline from the side nearly takes your breath away. He’s so damn beautiful it makes you sick.

And he’s back, Yoongi is back. 

“Do you want something to drink?” he asks, finally looking at you.

“Whatever you’re having would be great,” you tell him. You settle gingerly on one end of the couch as he busies himself in the kitchen. You shoot your parents a quick text that the roads were too bad and you weren’t going to make it back to their place so they wouldn’t worry. 

Yoongi returns with two glasses of red wine. He hands you one wordlessly and sits opposite you on the couch.

“So,” you say. The awkward, hyper-polite vibe from the car is back. Like you’re strangers. Like you didn’t know each other inside and out, once. “You’ve been here a month?”

“Just shy of it,” Yoongi corrects politely. “I signed a two month lease, so… I’ve got a few weeks to figure out my next move.”

“You don’t think you’ll stay?” you ask, then sip at the wine. It’s good - of course it’s good, he’s got great taste. You love and hate that about him.

He shrugs, drinks from his own glass. “Doubt it.”

He doesn’t give you any more information than that - why he’s back, what’s next for him, why he’s here for such a short time. 

You don’t press it. He’ll tell you if he wants to. 

Instead, you both drink in silence. Outside, the snow seems to redouble its efforts, the wind picking up until it seems to be snowing sideways for minutes at a time before calming into a normal downward fall again. 

“I think we made the right choice,” Yoongi murmurs, and it takes you a second to realize he’s talking about the weather and Taehyung’s party, not about your past. 

“Mhm,” you nod, as you come back into the present. That’s a problem you have - you’re always looking back. “Imagine if we were just leaving now? What a mess. Thanks for taking me in, I guess.”

“You guess,” he repeats, rolling his eyes, but there’s no ire in it. 

You drink in silence a little longer, and then Yoongi rises with a sigh. “I’ll go put clean sheets on the bed,” he says, sort of absently, like he’s both talking to you and also just thinking out loud. “And then I’ll show you how to work the tv in there if you –”

“I’m not sleeping in your bed, Yoongi,” you tell him flatly. 

He balks. “I didn’t mean with me, I meant by yourself!”

“No, I know that,” you reassure him. “But I’m not letting you sleep on your own couch because of me. I’ll sleep out here. It’s fine.”

“Absolutely not,” he says, shaking his head vehemently. That long hair swishes. “You’re a guest. I’m not putting you on the couch.”

“Yoongi,” you say sternly. “If I know you’re out here on the couch and I’m in there with your whole friggin bed, I will simply not sleep because I will feel too guilty about it! And I would like to sleep. So, please, put your chivalry and hospitality aside, and let me sleep. Out here.”

He considers this, because he knows you, and he knows you’re telling the truth. “Fine,” he concedes, and disappears into what must be his bedroom. 

When he returns, he’s carrying a stack of what looks like linens. He sets down the pile and you spy blankets and pillows. He pushes the pillows aside gently and picks up something else, turning to hold it out to you, an offering. 

It’s gym shorts and a large tshirt, and you reach to take them without thinking. Once they’re in your hand, they feel suddenly heavy with meaning. You used to wear his clothes all the time - you might have one or two of his hoodies in the back of your closet at home because you love them and don’t want to get rid of them, even though you feel too weird to actually wear them. You’re not sure how you feel about wearing his clothes again, now that it means nothing. The alternatives are pretty undesirable, though, so you’ll have to grin and bear it.

“There’s a half-bath on the other side, through the kitchen,” he says, nodding towards the bathroom in question. “So you don’t have to feel weird walking through my room to the full bath if you don’t want to. Though... do you need to shower? I can get you towels and stuff –”

“Maybe in the morning?” you say, eyeing the clock on the wall. “Just… could I borrow face-soap? And toothpaste?”

You’ll have to make do without your make-up remover and an actual toothbrush. Finger-brushing it is. 

When you emerge from the bathroom, teeth freshly finger-brushed, wearing Yoongi’s clothes, he’s standing at the kitchen sink, rinsing out the wine glasses you’d used.

You brush past him silently, and start setting up the couch how you want it. You hear the sink turn off, the click of the lightswitch as he shuts off the lights behind him. He comes back through the room and pauses in his doorway.

“Do you need anything?” he asks. 

“No,” you say, feeling small in his baggy shirt, feeling small in the face of all the feelings you’re swimming in right now. “I’m all good.”

He looks at you for a long minute, searching. “Okay,” he says, finally. “Sleep well.”

He turns into his room, and you watch his skinny wrist turn as he reaches to shut the door.

“Yoongi,” you say, the word out of your mouth before you really know what will follow it. He pauses, peeks his head back into view, raises an eyebrow at you. “Thanks,” you say, meekly.

He nods, silent, then reaches to close his door, gently and effectively shutting you out.

You get comfortable on the couch, bunching the blanket up around your head how you like it. It takes almost no time at all to fall asleep, and when you do, you don’t dream.

You’re awakened sometime later by a noise, and you sit up, your brain scrambling to catch up to the present and figure out where you are.

A couch, it processes. It comes back to you a little at a time. Yoongi’s couch. Yoongi’s house. Yoongi’s house in town.

The noise that woke you must have been his bedroom door opening, because as you slowly get your bearings, you become aware of him staring at you from his doorway. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you,” he says apologetically, then moves across the room towards the kitchen. “I just needed water.” Then, from the kitchen, as an afterthought, he asks, “Do you want one?”

“Please,” you say immediately, mentally cataloging all the effects of dehydration you can feel. Cottony mouth, ringing ears, the tingling beginnings of a headache…

He returns to the living room and stops near the couch. You stretch to turn on one of the dim lamps, casting a quiet yellow on the room. He stands there in too-big pajamas and holds out a water bottle silently. 

It’s definitely still the middle of the night. You can’t have slept more than a few hours. Everything feels different, somehow. It was so awkward before; you’d felt the need to be cautious and hyper-polite. Now everything feels blurred, fuzzy with sleep, softer. You’re sitting up, the blanket you’d been sleeping under still over your lap. You reach over and lift the other side, holding it up like a question.

Yoongi pads over and sits on the far side of the couch, but he curls his legs up and slips his bare feet under the blanket. You let it fall, covering him from the shin down.

He taps on his phone and grimaces at the time. “Hey,” he says, a little wry, “Merry Christmas.”

You smile. “Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”

He taps at his screen again and a speaker near his tv comes to life, playing what has to be a Coffee Shop Christmas playlist, pre-curated. You lean your head against the back of the couch, listening to the strum of acoustic guitar and the gentle snare of a drum meander through a mellow, lethargic version of It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.

“Christmas music, huh?” you tease, eyes closed. “That’s very holly, jolly of you.”

“I don’t hate Christmas,” he protests. “I’m not, like, a Grinch. It’s just… another day. So is tomorrow. Why all the fuss?”

You bump his foot with your knee beneath the blanket. “Scrooge.”

Ignoring your teasing, he looks sideways at you, something baleful on his face. “Y/N? I wanted to tell you I’m sorry.”

You’re surprised into silence, looking back at him across the couch. “What? What for?”

He grimaces, like the answer is too big, like he’s got an annotated list of every fault he’s mentally cataloged. “For all of it, I guess.”

You’re not letting him off the hook; this is too important to skirt around. “What are you sorry for, Yoongi?” you ask seriously.

He laughs once, quietly, incredulously, like he can’t believe you. “You really want to go there?”

“You know I do.”

He thinks before he speaks - one of your favorite things about him. “Because for the last five years, I hated myself for leaving you behind. And I wondered every day if you hated me for it, too.”

You sit in silence, feeling frozen. Yoongi lets you - Yoongi waits. Is he admitting regret? Does that mean he’d do it differently, given the chance?

Because here you are - being given the chance, in a way.

“I was never mad at you for going,” you tell him, because you know he needs to know. Yoongi doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, which means he really did wonder if you hated him. You don’t owe him much, but you figure you owe him this truth. Then you admit, “But I was mad at myself for… letting you. Did you… I mean, should I have argued? When you left?”

You’d always wondered. What would have happened if you’d fought just a little harder for him to stay?

He scoots a little closer, tugging the blanket closer to his knees, thinking about your question. “I think part of me had hoped you would… but it wouldn’t have changed my mind,” he tells you honestly.  “Just would’ve made it hurt more. The way things happened, I could lie and tell myself you were fine with letting me go.”

You exhale on a note of indignation. “Fine? That was you. You were so… okay with walking away.”

He shakes his head. He must have taken the bun out when he went to bed, and his hair swishes around his shoulders, loose and beautiful. “I wasn’t okay. I didn’t go a single day and not wonder… how you were. I didn’t go a single day sure that I made the right choice.”

You feel, weirdly, kind of pissed. “What am I supposed to do with that, Yoongi? Seriously?”

He opens his mouth to answer this rhetorical question, but you don’t let him. The words pour out of you, unleashed after five years of being held back.

“This is just… unfair. Because normally, in the movies, when you get this moment - the post-mortem - with someone from your past… they always ask why, right? Why’d you leave? But I don’t need to ask why - I know the why, I understood why. I want to know… I want to know if you regret it. If you’d take it back.”

“That’s two different questions,” he says solemnly, “with two different answers.”

You cut your eyes at him. It’s the middle of the night and your brain is mostly mush. You need him to just be forthcoming, just say things plainly.

He knows.

“Of course I regret it,” he whispers finally, as if the words hold too much weight to utter any louder. “I regretted it while I was still saying it. I hated being away from you, I hated not talking to you, I hated not knowing how you were or what you were doing or if you… still cared about me at all.” He pauses, inhales slowly, rubs a hand down his tired face, then exhales with a whoosh. “But would I take it back? I don’t know.”

You exhale, eyeing the ceiling. Who’s the one just saying shit now? God. “You can’t just say things like that, Yoongi,” you tell him, eyes trained on the shitty, popcorn ceiling above you.

He says your name, still so soft, so quiet. 

“What?”

“Don’t cry.”

It’s so stupid. You hadn’t cried then, not in front of him. You wipe hastily under your eyes. “Sorry,” you say hastily, trying to save face. “It’s the lack of sleep.”

“I’m not sure I would take it back,” he repeats carefully, and you realize he hadn’t been done before - you’d interrupted his thought, “because when I left… I knew the whole time that it didn’t make anything better. But if I hadn’t… I think I’d still be wondering if I should, if we’d be better apart. I wouldn’t know, so the question would still be hanging over me.”

You think he’s saying something without saying it, but it’s like four in the morning and you just aren’t sure. 

“But now?” you prod. 

He shrugs, like it’s so simple. “Now I know the answer.”

You want to shake him. You’ve never had a conversation go in circles like this in your life, and you need to get to the center of it. “Yoongi,” you say, your voice tight like a warning. 

He knows.

He always knows. He cuts to the chase. “I have a job lined up in the city.” 

You almost drop your water bottle. “My city?”

“Your city.”

“Yoongi,” you say again, pleading. “Just say what you mean.” Please.

He smiles your favorite of his smiles - only one half of his mouth lifts at first, cocky, until it spreads the rest of the way and shows his gums in all their glory. “Just thinking about that whole list of reasons we shouldn’t be together… null and void now, don’t you think?” 

You feel like you can’t breathe. You’ve both been circling it like predators, and now you’re closing in. 

“So what does that mean? For you?” Do you dare to ask it? You do. “For us?”

Someone else, you think, would probably have asked you, what do you want it to mean?

But it’s Yoongi - and Yoongi knows the answer already. 

He’s pushing the blanket off of his legs - and yours - and coming to hover over you. Your body responds, laying back against the pillow you’d been sleeping on, making room for him like it remembers exactly how you fit. Your fingers find his jaw like they’re magnetically drawn, your thumb sliding against his cheek. 

His hair falls around your faces like a curtain, blocking out the dim lamplight, as his mouth finds yours. 

Kissing him again is everything. It’s absolutely everything. He’s home, he’s wilderness, he’s calm, he’s the whole damn storm, he’s undoing every seam you have, he’s stitching you back together, he’s beautiful beautiful beautiful.

His lips are soft but sure against yours, his jaw moving under the press of your fingers. You feel like you’re flying, falling, maybe both, as your eyelids flutter. He’s bracing himself with his hands on either side of you, holding himself over you. You were resting your free hand against his side, his ribs like piano keys beneath your palm, and you find yourself bunching his shirt into your fist, trying to pull yourself up, closer, closer.

You have to will yourself not to babble against his mouth, I missed you, I missed you, I missed you. You could say it six hundred times and it still wouldn’t get it all out of you. You pour it into the kiss instead, straining up to meet him, beating words away from your mouth as you toy with his bottom lip. 

He drops his lower body carefully, pinning your hips beneath his own, shifting to hold himself up on elbows instead of hands. The weight of him is welcome; something needs to keep you tethered to this planet. 

He licks into your mouth, tongue sliding against yours, and you inhale sharply against his mouth. 

“Yoongi,” you murmur against his lips, and he turns his head to kiss your palm where it’s been resting against his face. There’s something so tender about it that tears spring to your eyes, and you blink them away quickly. 

Then he’s leaning down to capture your mouth again, humming a low, happy note against you. You go for the hem of his shirt, pulling until it gets tangled against his armpits. He sits back on his haunches, helping you pull it over his head and tossing it somewhere behind you. Your eyes trace him, over and over, trying to remember every shade and every line, trying to find every difference from five years ago. He’s beautiful, flushing dark across the chest, eyes positively predatory in their focus on you.

“You, too,” he says, sounding a little breathless, and you scoot back and sit up. He goes for your hem before you can, tugging it up and over your head. The cold air assaults you and you shiver. Yoongi makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a growl in appreciation, lowering himself over you again. His kiss is insistent this time, one hand coming up to cup a breast, fingers deftly rolling your nipple, sending electricity skittering down your spine. You whine, deep in your throat, and you feel his lips quirk into a smile. 

“Would you kick my ass if I said ‘I’ve missed your tits’ right now?” he asks, chest quaking as he tries to rein in laughter. 

“Yes,” you grumble, reaching to weave your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. You tug him back so you can kiss him again, and he lets out a quiet, breathy moan as you do. 

“Okay,” he says, in between kisses, “but I did.” Then he puts his money where his mouth is - or maybe vice-versa - to prove it, lowering his head and taking the other nipple in his mouth, flicking it lightly with his tongue. Your whole body reacts, feet stretching, back arching to push against his body, fingers tightening in his hair as you moan out loud. Each little motion of his mouth ignites sparks that reach every part of you - the pit of your stomach, the base of your spine, clear down to your toes. 

It’s honestly embarrassing how turned on you get as he continues, working one side until you’re writhing beneath him, thighs rubbing together desperately, then switching to continue his onslaught on the other side. 

“Yoongi,” you gasp, and some absent part of your brain is aware that his name is the only coherent word you’ve said in a while. “Please, you’re torturing me.”

He releases you with a wet pop, grinning up at you deviously. “So pretty when you beg like that,” he remarks, like he’s observing the weather - which is still a fucking blizzard, by the way. Then he’s coming up to kiss you again, deep and slow this time. His hand slides along your bare stomach, around and under your back, and you arch your back partly to make room for his arm underneath you, and partly because you can’t not, as his fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

“Please, what?” he murmurs, lips close to your neck, his fingers tracing the edge of the shorts you’re wearing - his shorts. “What do you want?”

“Anything - whatever you’ll give me,” you manage. All you can focus on is his fingers, their circular path along your lower stomach, toying with your waistband. 

It must be the right answer, because he slips his hand into your shorts, fingers pressing along your slit, your underwear clinging to you already. He slides his fingers along the slickened fabric, eyes on your face, listening to the tiny moans that escape when you exhale. 

He shifts to his side, between you and the back of the couch, and you loop an arm around his neck - half to hold yourself up on the couch, and half because you need to be holding him. You can feel how hard he is now, as his body presses against your legs. He distracts you with a kiss, and slips your panties aside, wasting no time in sheathing his middle finger up to the last knuckle.

You hiss his name, your head lolling back against the couch in pleasure, your neck bared to him. He gives it a quick nip and then a kiss as he adds a second finger, pumping in and out of you slowly. You groan, the sound rumbling from your chest. You could let him do this all night if you had the patience - just this simple act feels so good you think you might come undone.

And if you remember anything about sex with Yoongi, he’s just getting started.

He slips his fingers out of you and brings them up to your clit, circling once, then twice, before going back to where he started, the pad of his middle finger circling your entrance, careful to stay just outside. 

Your whole body turns to jelly, everything quivering from head to toe at the sensation. You grip the couch with both hands, digging your fingers in. “Ohhh my god,” you manage, something accusatory in your tone, like you’re asking him how the fuck are you doing that? 

He smiles against you, middle finger still running in lazy circles through the wetness collecting there. “That’s right, I know what you like,” he murmurs, smug, his lips tickling your neck, before plunging both fingers back into your heat without warning. He repeats the cycle - in, out, up, down, around, around, in again - until you’re dizzy from it, your fingers clutching the fabric of the couch so hard that you’re sure you’ll rip it.

You have one single moment of clarity that sends you reaching down to where you can feel him hot and hard against your leg, but he shifts away, tutting.

“You first,” he says. “I want to see you make that face you make. It’s been literal years.”

“Oh my god,” you say, feeling yourself flush. “Yoongi! Seriously?”

He laughs, shoulders shaking. “What? I love to watch you lose your shit. What a fucking ego boost.” He punctuates these words with a quick change of wrist direction, suddenly pistoning against your front wall in a way that has your comeback melting right out of your brain.

He’d had you close before, and the sudden switch-up does the trick - you feel everything tighten from your shoulders to your toes, your eyes screwing shut. Yoongi shifts his weight to hold your leg in place so you can’t try to close them on him and redoubles his efforts, humming in pleasure as you squeeze around his fingers like a vice.

You let out a series of wordless cries as the pleasure builds to the point you want to shy away from it, and then Yoongi presses his thumb to your clit just so and you’re spiraling over the edge, your ears filled with a buzzing white noise, your toes curling, your desperate hands leaving the couch and clutching Yoongi instead, trusting him to guide you to the other side.

When you come down, heart hammering in your chest, you bat his hand away, breaths heaving.

“Take those off,” you pant, tugging on the bit of his pants you can reach, and shimmying your own bottoms the rest of the way off and dumping them onto the floor. 

“Bossy,” Yoongi remarks, smirking sideways at you as he obeys. 

You resituate yourself against the arm of the couch as he comes to kneel near your feet, stroking himself languidly. You both freeze with the same thought at the same time.

“Do I…” he says hesitantly, “do you want me to wear -?”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, mind racing for an answer. You’re tempted to just tell him it’s fine, because surely having a how many people have you been with in the five years since we broke up conversation will absolutely kill the mood right now. But that’s not really safe.

“Maybe you’d better?” you venture. “Have you -? I mean, we don’t need to talk about this right now. But I haven’t been with anyone without… you know.”

“Same here, and I got tested after… the last one. Just in case,” he admits, eyes on yours, and the moment feels heavy. Do you trust Yoongi to tell you the truth?

Of course you do. 

“I’m okay if you’re okay,” you tell him. “No pressure.”

“You’re still on -?” he checks, and you nod.

“In that case,” he says, and leans over you to kiss you again. You can feel him, rubbing along the messy slickness, and it occurs to you that you haven’t even touched him yet. 

You whine, twisting your shoulders to try and reach him with a hand, but he’s too impatient, lining himself up and starting to sink into you. You groan at the stretch - it’s been a while since your last fling - but the sound that tears through Yoongi’s throat is more like a growl, guttural and animalistic.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growls through gritted teeth, as he slowly rocks into you until he bottoms out, his hips tight against yours.

He’s everywhere - caging you in, hovering above you, holding you down, filling you up. He’s everywhere, and he feels both so familiar it makes you want to cry again, and also - somehow - brand-fucking-new, like you’ve never felt him before. 

You can feel every ridge of him, every twitch, as he sets a slow but even pace, letting you adjust. 

“God,” you gasp when he hits a spot just right. His head had been hanging above you, his eyes watching the place where he disappeared inside you, all that long hair loose, but he smirks up at you at this.

“Good,” he coos, and picks up the pace, hips smacking yours, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin on skin, his grunts and your whines. 

You’re gasping a little at each stroke, that tight feeling bubbling at the pit of your stomach growing stronger with each thrust. “God,” you growl, fingertips pressing into his shoulder blade as you hang on for dear life. “Yoongi, fuck!”

He slows on purpose, straightening up, forcing you to release your hold on his back. He grins at you, that shit-eating, one-sided grin, and then grabs your ankles, maneuvering them both to rest against his right shoulder. He leans forward against your legs and hammers into you, breathing hard, and you swear to god you see stars for a second.

“Ohmygod, yes, there,” you gasp, hands going to the backs of your own thighs to help alleviate the stretch. You need to start doing yoga or something.

The build-up is slower this time, the feeling pulsing through you in waves that strengthen and ebb again. Yoongi can tell when it’s real by the change in your voice - wordless whines rising in pitch, by the arch of your back, by the way you clamp around him so hard that he almost loses it right there.

“Yeah?” he asks, the word more like a gasp for air. “Close?”

“Please,” you beg, the sensation of pure light racing up your legs to your toes, the pulsing starting slow and determined in your core. 

“I’ve got you,” he promises, brows furrowed with concentration as he works to keep a steady pace. He grips one of your ankles and switches it to his other shoulder, creating space to reach down and rub gentle figure-eights around your clit. 

The wave takes you over, and there’s a long moment where you’re completely devoid of your senses - no sight, no sound, nothing but how tight tight tight everything has gone, too tight to even breathe - and then it breaks and you can hear yourself wailing, eyes shut against the onslaught of sensations. You clench around Yoongi hard, the aftershocks rolling through you, so hard that he hisses and drops his forehead to yours, his pace slowing significantly as he fucks you through it.

You go boneless as it leaves you, and Yoongi pushes all the way inside you and stills, pressing his lips to your temple.

“You good?” he murmurs, so sweet for someone who just had you experiencing the multiverse. 

“Mhm,” you manage to respond, so spent and tired that you can barely form the word.

“C’mere,” he grunts, slipping out of you, and he grips the back of your neck, hauling you upright and falling backwards in the same motion, pulling you over top of him. You loop your arms around his neck, feeling floaty, and he wraps his around your middle. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, his breath loud next to your ear.

“Can you keep going?” he checks. “I know you’re tired. I’m almost there, I promise.”

“M’good,” you assure him against his collarbone, and he gives you one quick squeeze before reaching down to adjust himself. He pushes in and you cry out, the sound muffled as you press your face into him. You’re so sensitive now, the sensation is entirely different. 

“You can take it,” he whispers, sliding a hand down your spine. Then, with a grunt of “shit,” he grabs you and jackhammers up into you, his fingers furrowing into the meat of your ass, so tight you think you’ll have five little bruises on each side when this is over.

You feel so close to him - your cheek presses up against his, your arms wrapped tight around him, his hands securing you in place, his heart beating wildly against yours where your chests press together. 

You gasp for breath into the crook of his neck, holding on for dear life, just trying to take what he gives you. You can hear his breathing change as he gets close, his pace quickening but his thrusts starting to come less evenly, his grip on your ass tightening just a bit further as he pulls your hips down to meet his every few thrusts. 

“Is inside okay?” he asks, the words sounding like they’re torn from him. 

“Yes,” you tell him, but it comes out more like a moan.

“God,” he grunts in response to this, and the word tears, ending on a strangled moan as he empties himself deep inside you. 

You lay there, gasping for breath, for a long minute. Then Yoongi gives you an affectionate pat on the ass, indicating that it’s safe to move.

“Go get in the shower,” he suggests. “I’ll grab you a towel and meet you in there.”

“I don’t know if I can get there,” you say, joking, but your legs feel like jelly. You grab your phone and make your way, wobbly, through the living room and into his bedroom.

You hadn’t come in here before. It’s clean, but sparse. It’s devoid of anything that makes it feel homey. It’s devoid of anything that makes it feel like Yoongi.

You keep going, padding through his room and towards the attached bathroom, fumbling for the lightswitch. You place your phone next to the sink and fiddle with the shower’s knobs until you get a steady stream of hot water going. 

It feels heavenly to step under the hot water, your aching muscles relaxing in the steam. But it feels even better when Yoongi wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.

“Hi,” he murmurs. 

“Hi,” you giggle. You might still be riding a little bit of a post-orgasm high.

You both rinse off in silence, and then Yoongi places his hand on the knob, looking at you to make sure you’re ready to get out. You nod, but he hesitates.

“Will you sleep with me?” he asks, a little unsure, leagues different from the cocky man you’d been tangled up with mere minutes before. “Don’t go back to the couch.”

You give him a soft smile, and he turns off the water, reaching for the towels hanging just outside.

“Of course I will,” you tell him before wrapping yourself up in the soft, gray terry-cloth. 

You crawl into his bed once you’re dry, and he joins you after making a quick pass through the living room to turn the lights back off and gather up the clothes you’d both tossed around. When he clicks off his bedside lamp and rolls to face you, you feel a fluttering of nerves in your stomach. 

You’re not sure where you go from here. 

You lay facing each other in the darkness; it’s just too dark to really see much, but you can tell he’s looking at you. 

You’re laying there, letting your thoughts spool around you, the what-if’s and what-now’s laying themselves out in your mind, when you realize you’ve reached out without meaning to, your fingers tangling in his long hair, rolling strands between them. You keep playing with it, cautiously, practically holding your breath, waiting to see if he objects.

Instead, you feel him relax under your hand, letting out a long breath. “That feels nice,” he admits, voice breathy with almost-sleep and barely audible.

You fall asleep without any answers, with your fingers curled up in Yoongi’s hair. 

You wake up to a warm body behind you, not quite touching. You shift your cold toes a little closer to the warmth you find, smiling when you hear him whine about it. The light outside is white, that abnormal shade of light that comes from sunlight bouncing off of snow and ice. You’re about to close your eyes again when you realize that the warm body behind you isn’t sleeping, because you can hear the incriminating clicking and clacking of a keyboard.

“Are you seriously working right now?” you ask him, rolling a little to look at him over your shoulder. He peers back at you guiltily, his glasses low on his nose, fingers frozen in the air above the keys. 

“I just wanted to answer a few -”

“It’s Christmas morning!” you scold. 

“I’m aware of that,” he answers dryly.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Turn it off, Yoongi. It’s Christmas and you are in bed with someone. My God.”

He shoots you a defensive look, but finishes whatever he was doing and clicks the laptop closed, leaning over to place it on his nightstand.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, a little fondly, sitting up a little next to him.

“Neither have you,” he says pointedly. It’s less fond when he says it. 

You consider this. “You want to know something stupid?” you ask. Yoongi doesn’t answer out loud, just meets your eyes and waits. “You’re right. I haven’t changed. I think… I think I’ve been afraid to.”

He turns to face you, sensing how serious you are about this. “What do you mean?” he presses. 

You stop to think, the way you learned to after spending years watching him, knowing he did this better than you. “I guess… some little part of me always wondered what would happen if we crossed paths again. If I changed too much… what if I stopped being someone you’d want? What if I became someone so different that your heart didn’t know mine anymore?” 

It sounds so corny coming out of your mouth, but the truth behind it is so heavy you can’t hold it up anymore. It was a fear you’d secretly harbored for half a decade - what if fate put Yoongi in your life again, and he still didn’t want you? 

And Yoongi does what he’s always done - hears you, understands you, answers you in your own language.

“Impossible,” he says softly, leaning closer to you, eyes combing your face. His voice is like a layer of snow, smooth and clear, full of something unnamable. Or maybe you don’t want to name it. You turn your head, as if that will get you further away. “That’s impossible. My heart will always know yours.”

You look at your hands, feeling a little choked up. Your heart stutters and jumps in your chest. The question you’re holding back churns in a little ball behind your ribs. 

“Hey,” he says, softly but intently. You manage to look up at him. “Let’s make breakfast?” He says it like a question.

“Yeah,” you say, able to speak again. “That sounds good.”

Yoongi lends you sweatpants, since it’s too chilly to roam around the house in basketball shorts, and busies himself in the kitchen while you get changed. When you finally join him, he’s plated something for each of you, and he pushes a glass of iced coffee towards you.

You can’t help but smile. “You remember,” you accuse, and he avoids your eyes, cheeks flushing. 

“You get a girl ninety-thousand iced coffees, it stays with you,” he defends.

“Ninety-thousand,” you scoff, but you’re pleased. As you eat, you look out the kitchen window. It’s bright outside, but it’s still snowing - tiny, wispy flakes floating leisurely down to join you. The road clearly hasn’t been plowed yet; the snow outside is untouched, unbothered, a perfect sheet of white. You can’t even tell where the road is, except for the mailbox poking up out of the feet of snow on the ground already.

Yoongi follows your gaze. “Looks like you’re trapped here for a while,” he observes. 

“A shame,” you deadpan, and he kicks at you playfully beneath the table.

“Well,” he says, thinking out loud, “since you won’t let me get any work done… do you want to put on a movie?”

“A Christmas movie?” you ask, perking up. 

He rolls his eyes, but he’s fighting a little smile. “I guess that’d make sense,” he agrees. 

He leads you back to the couch, which you eye sideways, remembering clearly what this couch witnessed about three hours ago. Yoongi seems unphased, slouching sideways against some pillows and looking at you expectantly. You join him gingerly, leaning against him, and he drapes a blanket over your legs.

“Pick something,” he asks, passing you the remote - another old Yoongi trick that you remember well.

You take the offered remote, clicking through the holiday options for something that you don’t think will make Yoongi gag. As you scroll, brows furrowed in concentration, he clears his throat beside you.

“So, uh,” he says, and you stop scrolling, because he sounds nervous. “Next weekend I’m supposed to go look at some apartments. Do you… would you want to keep me company?”

You look at him, eyes wide, the remote forgotten in your hand, still aloft and pointed at the tv. 

“Why?” you whisper once you find your voice. 

He shrugs, wets his lips. “You know the city well,” he says. “You can offer your brilliant opinions - tell me if the neighborhood’s okay… if there’s good take-away… where the transit stops are, that kind of shit.”

“Hm,” you say, a little tightly.

He shoots you a sheepish grin. “I’ll take you to dinner after?”

You give him a look. “Say what you mean, Yoongi.”

He purses his lips a little, disgruntled at being called out. Then, busted, he sighs and tries again. “Can I take you to dinner next weekend? Preferably in the city, and preferably after you help me make some choices about my living situation?”

You grin, unable to hold it back. “Yeah,” you say, trying hard to fight back the smile, to play it even a little bit cool. “Yeah, I’d really like that.” Trying to save your dignity, you turn back to the tv and go back to scrolling until you find a movie that seems like it’s not too over-the-top. 

Yoongi reaches an arm around your shoulders, and this time you settle against him comfortably. You can feel him breathing beneath you, can smell that Yoongi smell - clean and alluring, can hear the shouts of some neighborhood kids running around outside. From the tv, tinkling bells and happy strings play a medley of Christmas songs as the opening credits run. 

Part of you is already thinking about when the roads are plowed and you have to go home, shower off the scent of him, update your best friend about all of this, miss Yoongi in a much more real way than you’ve had to in about three years. But at least you have the promise that you’ll see him again next weekend. You close your eyes, content, happy to just be right now. 

Yoongi feels it too, obviously. He gives your shoulders a squeeze, looks down at you fondly, and murmurs, “You know what? All this holly, jolly shit isn’t so bad.”

“God bless us, every one,” you deadpan. “It’s a Christmas miracle.”

He grins at you, gums showing, and you smile back before leaning your head against his chest as on the TV a little girl watches out her window for signs of Santa.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!!! My full masterlist can be found here :)

[redrose10]

Yoongi x Female Reader. Soulmate AU

Summary: There’s no one on this planet you hate more than your coworker/secret crush Min Yoongi. He’s an arrogant, rude, womanizer who gets under your skin every single shift and you can’t wait for your day to be over so you can get away from him. Unfortunately when Jimin, your caseworker from The Ministry of Adoration, shows up offering you both a raspberry jam filled cookie, things take a surprising turn for the worst and you can no longer get away.

Warnings: Swearing, hints of smut (nothing graphic or really detailed), mentions of death, a little angst, Yoongi gets around. Might get updated later

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Chapter 1-Coffee and Cookies

Word count: 4,268

“I hate him.,” you mumbled leaning on the counter of Perks Perkup Cafe where you were currently employed.

“He’s really not THAT bad.”, your best friend and coworker Mina replied.

“No he really is. He’s arrogant, he’s rude, he thinks he’s soooooo much better than everyone just because he had one song go kind of viral. He’s late like everyday and never gets reprimanded because Mrs.Perk has some weird disgusting crush on him. I just want to wipe that stupid smirk right off his face.”

Mina rolled her eyes, “He’s also charismatic, charming, funny, nice when he wants to be, a good salesman, easily one of the hottest guys on the planet, aaannnddd even you downloaded that one song.”

With a huff knowing she was right you took a sip of water just as your other coworker and archenemy Yoongi finished up with a customer who was happily sliding her number across the counter to him.

“Great here comes the demon kitty now.”, you groaned.

“Shhh, if he ever hears you call him that he really will give you reasons to hate him.”, she chuckled.

“Ladies,” he winked before heading to the back office.

Truth be told you might’ve had a teensy tiny not really that small crush on Yoongi ever since he accidentally spilled a latte on your shoes during his first month of work over a year ago and then profusely apologized with red tinted cheeks before offering to buy you a new pair and dinner on top of it.

An emergency came up and you weren’t able to make it to the dinner but you’d hoped to be able to reschedule. Unfortunately he never gave you that chance because after that night the shy sweet blonde turned into a menace, showing up late, always begging to leave early, never cleaning or prepping, and spending most of his time getting different girls numbers. He was rude to you. Always calling you a prude or making hurtful comments. He tried to get under your skin any chance he got.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt every time you saw him shamelessly flirt in front of you or loudly tell your other coworker Namjoon about all of his random one night stands. At this point you weren’t sure if you hated him because of who he was and how he treated you or simply because he wasn’t yours. But that was a secret you’d take to your grave. You made hating Yoongi part of your personality and in no way would you let that go.

The rest of your shift went relatively smoothly. You and Mina kicked ass while Yoongi sat in the office only coming out if he sensed there was a pretty girl in the building.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I don’t mind getting there a little late.”, Mina checked with you one more time.

“No it’s okay. The busy hours are done with so we shouldn’t get more than a customer or two at a time. I can handle it. Go celebrate your brothers birthday.”

With a smile she bounced out the door leaving you to spend the final hours before closing with Yoongi.

Unfortunately for you your one or two customers at a time remark came back to bite you thanks to a high school graduation happening a block over from the cafe.

You stared at the line of people all looking back at you with agitation as you tried your best to take orders and make orders and cash out while still trying to smile. You went to the back looking for Yoongi, but he was nowhere in sight so you took a deep breath to collect yourself and returned back to the front greeting the next customer in line.

Just as you were adding the whipped cream to the top of some girls cup of sugar with a splash of coffee you heard the back door swing open.

“Jesus Y/N, why didn’t you come get me?”, Yoongi asked hurriedly tying his apron behind his back.

“I tried but you were no where to be found. But of course you would show up when there’s a pretty girl involved.”, you spat back handing the girl her drink while trying to ignore her giving puppy dog eyes to Yoongi.

Without responding he headed to the register to take a few more orders before helping you knock out a few of the drinks that were built up. It took about 35 minutes but the two of you were able to get everything caught up.

Throwing a towel down on the counter you wiped some of the sweat off of your forehead really regretting not taking that job at the ice cream parlor instead.

“Here have some cold water.”, Yoongi said handing you a bottle.

“No thanks. I don’t need your pity water.”

“Oh my God Y/N, I’m just trying to give you some water. Why does everything have to be a fight with you?”

“Maybe because I’m tired of having to pick up your slack.”

“Well maybe I’m tired of your bitchy attitude.”,

“Yeah well maybe I’m-“

Before you could finish the sentence someone on the other side of the counter cleared their throat.

“I am so sorry. How can I hel-“

Your fear of upsetting a customer turned to joy when you spotted one of your favorite regulars, Jimin. He had been coming into the cafe for a few weeks and you always enjoyed it. He was personable and friendly. Not to mention very handsome. He’d come in and order a large iced mocha and occasionally a slice of banana bread, make a little small talk and then quietly work in the corner. Judging by his tailored designer suits and briefcase you figured he probably worked for one of the various law firms that surrounded the cafe.

“Hey Jimin, how are you doing today?”, you asked immediately perking up.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Yoongi mocking your excitement, but chose to ignore it for now and focus on Jimin instead.

“Hi Y/N. Just the usual today.”, he smiled back.

“Of course!”, you said while ringing up his iced mocha.

Yoongi got to work on the drink while you handed Jimin his change.

“So things not getting any better between the two of you?”, he asked putting away his wallet.

You scoffed, “Not even close.”

“I see. Well that’s not good. We’ll have to work on that.”, he said taking the drink that Yoongi had quietly sat down on the counter before returning to the back to start the closing process.

Jimin thanked you with a wink before taking his usual seat. His words still playing in your head.

As you were scrubbing away at one of the machines you heard the door chimes ring signaling someone was entering the building. You turned to greet who would hopefully be your last customer of the day.

“Oh Yooonnnggiiii”, you heard a sickeningly sweet high pitched voice.

“Ugghh”, you rolled your eyes recognizing the woman. She was one of Yoongi’s regular hookups. Rose or Lilly. Maybe Violet. You weren’t really sure what her name was and didn’t care enough to ask.

She was desperately in love with him and would drop to her knees faster that he could say suck. You almost felt bad for her knowing that he was only using her as a last resort when he couldn’t find anything better.

Yoongi came walking out of the back office smirking as you made a gagging motion.

“Seriously? You couldn’t wait fifteen minutes to set up a booty call?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Hey, she offered and who am I to say no?”

It didn’t take long for you to watch him grab her hand and pull her towards the bathroom as she giggled. Your stomach twisted in disgust, but your heart broke at the sight.

He must’ve had an off night or one of the best experiences of his life because it was less than seven minutes later that he came walking back behind the counter with flushed cheeks and you saw the woman embarrassedly heading towards the door with tousled hair and running mascara.

You busied yourself by scrubbing away at a coffee stain on the counter that had been there since before you started so you knew it was useless, but you just wanted to avoid any interaction with him that you could.

You jumped when you heard someone clear their throat not expecting another customer five minutes before closing time.

“I uh I finished all the dishes.”, Yoongi said not making eye contact.

“Okay? Do you want a cookie?”

“Wow Y/N.”

“Well it’s part of your job Yoongi. I don’t need you to walk me through it.”

“I know that Y/N. I just wanted to let you know so that you didn’t go back there to do it.”

“Yeah well while you’re at it why don’t you go disinfect the bathroom too.”

“Sorry no one has ever been so desperate to get in your pants.”

“Oh go fuck yourself Yoongi.”

“Don’t have to. I have people for that.”, he smirked.

“I hate y-“

“Hi guys!”

You jumped at the peppy voice coming from across the counter before feeling an immediate sense of relief.

“Hey Jimin.”, you smiled as Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Hi Y/N”, he smiled back.

“How about a cookie?”

“I’m sorry what?”, you chuckled at his odd question.

“Here”, he said sliding over two raspberry jam filled cookies.

“Oh no thank you Jimin. I’m not much of a jam person.”, you politely declined.

“I stayed up all night baking these. I’d really love to get your opinions. I’m calling them Raspberry Romances.”

Thanks to the deep pout he was giving you and the way his eyes twinkled you couldnt say no a second time so you grabbed the cookie popping it in your mouth in one go.

“Mmm actually not bad.”, you said trying to keep the crumbs from falling out.

Jimin smiled before sliding the other cookie closer to Yoongi.

“No thanks. My parents taught me to never take candy from strangers and I’m pretty sure that applies to cookies too.”, he shook his head.

“Come on Yoongi. Jimin isn’t a stranger and would it kill you to not be an exhausting asshole for two minutes of your life?”

Letting out a long sigh of defeat he reached for the cookie popping it in his mouth, “Its okay. Name needs work though. Sounds like something a Girl Scout would sell.”

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to fake disinterest.

“Great! Thank you guys so much.”, Jimin clapped his hands together.

“So what got you into baking all of a sudden?”, you asked trying to make small talk and avoid Yoongi’s glare.

“Oh just a new hobby I guess.”

“Pfft I’m gonna go lockup so we don’t get any more customers trying to poison us with random cookies.”, Yoongi said walking towards the door.

You shook your head, “Ignore him. You’re welcome to bring any of your creations for me to try any time.”

Jimin smiled as he watched Yoongi round the counter. As Yoongi walked closer and closer to the door you felt an odd sensation in your chest. It got tighter and tighter the farther Yoongi walked away from you until it felt like you had been stabbed in the heart with a burning knife.

“Ahh call and ambulance. I think I’m having a heart attack.”, you cried doubling over in pain.

“Nope! No heart attack.”, Jimin said a little too cheerily given the situation.

You looked up noticing he was pointing towards the door where you saw Yoongi doubling over gripping his chest just like you, “What the fuck? I’m too young for this shit.”, he cried.

Instinctually you ran over to check on him forgetting about your own troubles. As soon as you got within a few feet of him though you immediately started feeling better. Yoongi did too as he was able to catch his breath and stand up straight.

“Oh I’m so glad it worked! And so quickly too!”, Jimin excitedly bounced watching this all unfold.

“So glad what worked?”, you asked turning to look at him.

“The cookies I gave you.”

“So you did poison us. I knew it!”, Yoongi exclaimed walking forward.

“No no no, let me properly introduce myself. My name is Park Jimin and I am your case worker.”

“I’m sorry what? Our case worker?”

Jimin nodded, “Yes, your case worker. I work for the broken souls department.”

“Great. It’s worse than poisoning us. He drugged us.”, Yoongi dramatically waved his arms around.

“I did no such thing.”, Jimin responded offended.

“Please explain what’s going on in detail.”, you said trying to diffuse the situation.

“Right. So I work for The Ministry of Adoration in the souls department. We’re divided into three different sections, Complete Souls, Broken Souls, and Lost Souls.”

“Oh my god. That’s it. I’ve died and gone to hell. I am in hell right now.”, Yoongi groaned from next to you.

“Shut up and quit being so dramatic.”, you hissed before turning back to Jimin, “Maybe start the explanation from the beginning.”

With a loud sigh he continued, “Everyone is born with 50% of their soul. Someone else in the world is born with the other 50%.”

“Oh like soulmates!”, you exclaimed.

He smiled, “Yes exactly Y/N! And it’s everyone’s destiny to find their soulmate to complete their fulfillment and bring the souls together. Most of the time the two souls are compatible and get along smoothly with no issues. Sometimes though they need a little help to move along and their cases are then sent to my department hence the broken souls.”

“Okay and what the fuck does this have to do with Y/N and I? Why did we feel like we were dying a few minutes ago?”, Yoongi spat.

“Well you and Y/N are soulmates.”

You and Yoongi both let out a deep laugh at the same time. “No we’re not.”, you quipped.

“Yeah we hate each other.”, Yoongi added.

Jimin nodded in agreement, “Yes which is why I’m here. I’ve been watching you two for several weeks now hoping you’d work it out on your own and I wouldn’t have to step in but after your little argument today I knew my help was needed.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Maybe Yoongi was right and you both really were poisoned by a handsome guy in a Gucci suit.

Jimin continued, “The cookie I gave you was a new prototype that we’re working on. Normally we’d just lock you two together with some handcuffs and call it a day. But with this cookie it gives you a little more wiggle room and will hopefully make the experience more enjoyable therefore having a higher success rate. Thanks to the cookies the two of you can’t be more than five feet away from each other or you’ll feel that little pain in your chest. A heartbreak if you will.”

“Why are you doing this?”, you asked.

“Well you and Yoongi are running out of time to become compatible and fall in love. Once your souls run out of life they disappear forcing you both to then turn to the lost souls department lead by my coworker Jin where you’ll be subjected to an eternity of loneliness and despair and not to mention countless unfunny dad jokes. And trust me, you DON’T want that to happen. Which is why I gave you two the cookies. It’ll force you to have to spend time together and get to know each other and hopefully that gives you both the little nudge you need to finally let Cupid in with his little arrows of love.”

“I know someone I’d like to shoot with an arrow right now.”, Yoongi spat.

Ignoring him you asked, “So what happens if we don’t fall in love?”

“Welllll, you have three weeks from today to share true loves kiss.”

Yoongi went to speak but Jimin quickly cut him off, “And no you can’t fake it and just kiss. We’ll know whether it’t true love or not.”

Yoongi sat down in huff and you continued, “Okay and what happens if we don’t kiss?”

“After the three weeks, if no true love kiss has happened, then your soulmate bond will be broken. And then the two of you will have to decide whose soul you want to continue unscathed and who you want to be sent down to the lost souls department. It not a the best situation but at least this way we can save one of you instead of loosing both.”

“Wow un-fucking-believable.”, Yoongi muttered beside you. You were speechless.

“Well I think that was enough excitement for one night. Remember not to stray too far away from each other.”, Jimin said walking towards the door.

“Wait what if we have questions? Or something else happens?”, you panicked.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be around when you need me.”

And with that he walked out the door letting it slowly shut behind him.

“What are we going to do?”, you asked turning to Yoongi.

“I’m gonna go grab my shit and go home.”, he said walking towards the back. Hastily you followed after him not wanting to stray too far. He grabbed his things and headed towards the door with you on his heels.

“Y/N, stay here. None of this is real. I don’t need you following me around like a lost puppy all the time.”, he said before slamming the door in your face.

It only took a few seconds for the pain in your chest to return causing you to double over. Thankfully it quickly disappeared when Yoongi returned out of breath clearly having experienced the same.

He grabbed your hand pulling you with him, “Come on. We’ll stay at your place. We just need to stop at mine and grab a few things.”

“Umm excuse me? Why do we have to stay at mine?”

He sighed, “Because I live with two other roommates who will never stop giving me shit about this and you live alone.”

“Okay. Fair point.” You didn’t exactly want to have to live with all these random people anyways.

His apartment was pretty close thankfully and much nicer than you expected. As soon as he opened the door you were surprised to see everything clean and organized. A faint scent of cinnamon and vanilla hung in the air. His two roommates were on the couch watching a movie.

“There you are! We were wondering when you’d get home.”, one of them exclaimed.

“Of course you were late because you had to find a friend for the night. At least she’s way prettier than your usual catches.”, the other spoke. His comment making you blush slightly.

Yoongi grabbed your hand beginning to pull you down the hall when one of the guys spoke up, “Hey aren’t you gonna introduce us?”

“Yeah don’t be so rude Yoongi?”, you spoke trying to poke a little fun at him sensing his irritation.

“Oh for fucks sake.”, he grumbled before pulling you into the living room.

“Y/N, these are my roommates. This is Jungkook and that one is Hoseok. This is Y/N.”

You politely smiled and waved at the two men who seemed much nicer and friendlier than Yoongi.

“Great. Everyone is pointlessly introduced and I have things to take care of.”, he said pulling you back down the hall.

“Don’t forget to use protection.”, Jungkook shouted after you eliciting a giggle.

Yoongi motioned for you to take a seat on his bed, “I’m just gonna grab some clothes and my laptop.”

You shook your head, “No thanks. I know what you do on that bed.”

“The only thing I do there is sleep. I never bring girls back here.”

“Why not? Don’t you want to be comfortable instead of always hooking up in a car or random bathroom?”

“I don’t know. It just feels too personal if I bring them here. You know into my space. I only save that for people I actually care about.”

You didn’t think he was capable of having feelings like that and then it hit you.

You smirked, “So you care about me? I mean you did let me into your personal space after all.”

“Don’t think too much into it. I just didn’t want to be doubled over in pain while I packed.”, he rolled his eyes before turning away so you couldn’t see the blush forming on his cheeks.

Once he had all his things packed you both snuck past Hoseok and Jungkook who were too busy fighting over the last piece of pizza to notice you anyways.

Swinging the door open to your apartment you suddenly felt really self conscious. It had been several months since you had a guy over and the fact that the guy next to you was Yoongi didn’t make it any easier.

Conveniently you heard him chuckle from behind you.

“What is it Yoongi?”

“Nothing. Your place is cute.”

You rolled your eyes before walking further into the living room.

“I’ll get you some blankets and a pillow. You can have the couch.”, you said motioning to the corner of the room.

“Umm yeah that’s not gonna work.”

“Well make it work because I am not sharing a bed with you.”

“Alright fine. I’ll take the couch and you can sleep in your bed and we’ll both be in excruciating pain all night because you peer pressured me into eating a cookie from some demonic Betty Crocker wannabe.”

You closed your eyes internally smacking yourself for forgetting the whole reason you were stuck with Yoongi to begin with.

“Fine. We’ll share my bed. But no funny business.”, you huffed past him.

“Wouldn’t dream about it babes.”

“Could you please hurry up. I’d love to get to sleep at some point tonight.”, Yoongi groaned.

“Almost done. Just rinsing off.”, you said. The large size of your bathroom was the main reason you chose this apartment but you were really regretting it in this moment. You tested it and Yoongi standing outside the door was just too far away so you both agreed to stay in the bathroom together as you showered and did your nightly routines. Shutting off the water you peaked around the curtain to make sure he was still staring at the wall.

“Okay I’m coming out now. Don’t turn around.”

“Y/N I’m not going to look if you don’t want me to. Just please hurry the fuck up.”, he spat clearly getting cranky.

Quickly you dried yourself off before getting your pajamas on.

“Okay”

“Can I turn around now?”

“Yeah sure.”

Your mind was probably playing tricks on you but you swore you saw a hint of red running down his neck.

“Hey tomorrow I nee- Oh my God Yoongi.”, you exclaimed bringing your hands over your eyes before turning around. “Seriously? You couldn’t warn me that you were just gonna strip naked.”

“I’m getting in the shower. Of course I’m gonna be naked. And I promised I wouldn’t look at you. I don’t care if you look at me. Plus I know you’ve been dying to catch a glimpse of all this.”

“Oh please don’t think so highly of yourself.”

Thankfully his shower was quick and he was dried off and changed within minutes.

Your bed was small forcing the two of you to lay shoulder to shoulder.

“Can I ask you a question?”, you spoke breaking the silence.

“Sure.”

“Why do you have a tattoo of a cookie with a smirk on your butt cheek?”

“You were checking out my butt weren’t you?”, he laughed.

“Answer the question.”

“His name is Shooky. It was something I had drawn one day and then after a few too many drinks one of my friends dared me to get it as a tattoo.”

“And you thought your butt was the best location?”

“You don’t even want to know where Jungkook got a tattoo of the pink bunny he drew.”

“He didn’t.”, you gasped.

“He did. He calls it Cooky on a coc-“

“Okay that’s enough.”, you stopped him before he could go any further. He laughed before letting the room fall into a semi awkward silence.

“You still awake?”, he asked after several minutes.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Well I just remembered that my brothers wedding is this weekend so uh I guess you’re gonna have to be my date.”, he said barely above a whisper.

“Okay. It’s not like we have a choice anyways.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

You both laid there in silence for a while but you could tell neither of you were close to falling asleep.

“Hey Yoongi?”, you asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. We’ll figure something out. Besides we both know I’ll be the one who walks away from this anyways.”

You rolled your eyes before turning away from him. You should’ve known better than to look to him for comfort.

Yoongi laid awake staring at the ceiling while sneaking little peaks at you.

The truth was he was scared too, but he’d never let you know that. Scared of what might happen. Scared of what might not happen. Scared of the fact that he has loved you since the minute you introduced yourself to him at he cafe even though you’ve never reciprocated the feeling. Scared you’ll find out that he’s only a jerk to you as a defense mechanism to hide his true feelings.

He was most scared because he knew at some point the truth was going to come out.

[callitwh4ty0uwant]

hiiiii !!!! I absolutely adore every single thing that you write; you’re incredible !!

i kinda sorta had a request if you don’t mind…

so conrad fisher x reader where they fake date to make belly and Jere jealous (reader has a crush on jere and con on belly obvi ahah) but they end up falling for each other ?

however the plan kinda works as well and now there’s like a lot of angst :0

have a great rest of your day and im soooooo looking forward to reading it if you decide to do so :))<3

Thank you for the request!!!

Stole my tortured heart!

Pairing - Conrad fisher x fem! Reader

Summary; having a crush on Jeremiah isn’t easy when he likes Belly… so when agreeing to fake date with Conrad fisher to make Jeremiah jealous doesn’t go to plan and they end up falling for each other in the process.

A/n; my very first request! Thank you so much I hope you have a wonderful day aswell 💗💗

—

Pink and purple sky’s is what summer in cousins beach brought. Hot days and cold nights were always perfect, especially getting to see her- all time childhood crush shirtless when swimming at the beach houses pool.

Jeremiah and y/n, were close, but not as close as belly and Jere. So when figuring out he likes her, it came as a shock when he walked into her room, laid down on her bed and confessed that he liked belly, she cried when he left that night. 

Conrad fisher, also likes belly apparently. Which is why she resorted to walking into his room after finding out belly and jere had kissed on the beach the night before.

“They kissed” she stumbled in “what?” He looked up from his phone eyebrows furrowed “Jere and belly” she paused “they kissed” she finished pacing around.

“I know you like belly. Conrad, it’s kinda obvious” she shrugged making the boy climb out his bed and place two hands on each shoulder.

“Calm down” he hushed “I have a plan” she informed sitting down on his bed “plan for what?” Connie raised his brows “to make them jealous duh! But only if you’re up for it” she fell back her head hitting the soft mattress.

“What’s your plan y/n” she sat up at that. “We date” she blurted out making a surprised look “huh?” She stood “we fake date, you know like we have to all the sappy stuff like, hold hands, Kiss-.” He shook his head “maybe kiss” he added “extra” she shrugged “to make them jealous and maybe we’ll just get them”

“Okay, y/l/n, I’m in” he held a hand out for her to shake “perfect” she nodded taking his hand, as noise could be heard from the kitchen “starts now I suppose” she smiled up at him as they clasped their hands together and walked out the room hand-in-hand.

“Hey, guys.” Belly said eyebrows furrowing at the sight of the two of them holding hands “what’s going on here” he motioned between, Conrad and her.

“We’re uh..” she trailed looking up at Conrad “Dating.. we’re dating” he finished for her removing his hand from hers placing it around her shoulder pulling her in closer.

Jealous. Is what was written all over Belly’s face over the next few weeks, nothing over Jeremiah’s he didn’t care, at all.

The next few weeks were also hard to say the least, Conrad’s ‘touches’ had lingered a little too long, throughout the weeks.

For example, she, Conrad, Jeremiah and belly were watching a movie and obviously she sat beside Conrad his arm thrown over her shoulder drawing circles into her shoulder, the two had acting obsessed with each other throughout the weeks, Jeremiah and belly never suspected a thing.

A quick kiss to cheek could be felt as he got up from the couch mumbling something about getting a snack “you want anything.. babe” Babe. a simple pet name, that Conrad had called her.

“M’good” she mumbled “you not gonna offer us anything?” Jeremiah asked “youre not my girlfriend” he shrugged sitting back down beside her, butterflies errupted in her stomach as he caught her lips in a kiss.

She was caught off guard by the action, he had never kissed her before it was unexpected.

“We need to talk” she mumbled in his ear as she took his hand taking him into the separate room “I don’t know if I’m picking up some wrong signals here” she started “but do you like me? Cause you just kissed me and you’ve never done that before” she sighed “yeah- y/n ever since we made that deal after they kissed I couldn’t help it, these past few weeks have been amazing” he confessed.

“You like me?” She asked as he nodded lightly “good cause I was starting to worry” she chuckled walking towards the boy cupping his face in her hands and kissing him.

[taintedcigs]

eddie w tattoo artist reader..... trying SO hard to seem like he's not dying from pain while she tattoos his chest, bc he's trying to impress her. she's the coolest girl he's ever seen and the fact that her art is on him forever makes him so giddy and happy, almost as happy as getting her number

call me if you need a groupie — e.m.

yes yes yes yes yes. a thousand times yes to this. thank u for this request omg i looooove lovesick cutie eddie soooooo much. this was meant to be a blurb but now its a 2.8k+ fic oops. idk if there were exclusive shirts ok i tried to do my research but this is the best i could get and idk how tattoo processes are so take everything i wrote w a grain of salt !! not proofread as always so ignore any mistakes and also idk why but i looved writing for this dynamic and if anyone would be interested i could write a pt.2 for some smut !! (maybe sub!eddie or switch!eddie? 👀)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!tattoo artist!reader (wc: 2.8k+)

warnings: MINORS DNI w any of my works!!. just pure fluff!! maybe the teeniest tiniest angst, eddie is kinda insecure <3, eddie is a lovesick cutie honey pie !! and swearing? oh also tattooing ofc (needles n stuff)

He doesn't mean to flinch, he doesn't mean to show you how stressed he is, but you can sense it.

Each time the needle presses against his skin, he hisses, mouth biting onto his lips, harsh enough to draw blood.

But Eddie doesn’t care, you—the hottest and coolest girl—that has ever graced the hellhole that was Hawkins was tattooing him, and Eddie couldn’t afford to look like a coward.

So with everything in him, he shut his lips, biting on them, becoming accustomed to the metallic taste because it didn’t matter, not when you looked so fucking pretty when cooing him and your free hand squeezed his biceps for reassurance.

He didn’t know what to admire first, the way your lips quirked sweetly when you answered his dumb questions, the way you looked so focused with your lip between your teeth, trying to tattoo him, or the fact that you were wearing an Anthrax shirt, and not just any regular Anthrax shirt that you could find at those regular shops, it was an exclusive shirt that was only sold at the concerts, and he had to gulp physically at that.

You were a tattoo artist… and a metal fan? How perfect could you get?

Before his questions were answered, the needle pricked at his skin again, he cursed out, and instead of screaming in his mind, he whimpered out loud this time.

Your head perked up quickly and Eddie was now cursing himself, for being a fucking idiot, for looking like a coward in front of you.

“I can slow down if you want to,” You said with a smile, a sweet smile that adorned your perfectly red lips, they looked so fucking kissable.

“N–no!” He stuttered, but you gave him a huff. “C’mon Eds, you’re doing good… better than anyone I’ve ever tattooed has, we can slow down a bit.” You reassured.

His eyes lit up like a child, Eds? His new acquired nickname rolled off your tongue so sweetly, your words dripped in honey. And Eddie decided he would do anything to hear you call him that again.

Not only did you call him Eds, but you also said he was better than the others, and the childish grin on Eddie’s lips was quick to grow again, his entire body relaxing as he almost melted into you.

“You think so?” He asked, tone giddy and all sweet, causing a pretty giggle to escape your lips.

“I know so!” You hummed. “Tattooed a guy yesterday. He was tall. Like really fucking tall, and he had this long beard and tattoos everywhere!” You exaggerated, watching Eddie’s eyes widen. “He cried like a baby the second that needle prickled his skin!”

“And look at you, taking everything I’m giving you like a champ,” You winked.

If only you knew the affect you had on him, Eddie’s entire face grew red at that, he would, without hesitation take anything you gave him.

He tried, so fucking hard not to think about it, but now his mind was filled with the images of you, sitting on his faze, your pretty cunt glistening as he lapped away at your juices.

He imagined those pretty manicured fingers discarding his hair, ruffling while those pretty little lips were hung open, chanting his name. Your whines and whimpers would fill the room as he begged for you to cum in his mouth. He wouldn’t stop until you smothered him.

Until all he could taste was you.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts, because the blood was quick to rush to his cock, and he didn’t want to have his bulge hardening against his tight pants anymore than he needed to, you were inches away from him and he wanted to seem cool–so fucking badly.

“Really?” He asked, and you nodded swiftly. “So brave for me.” You coo, lips lightly brushing against his cheek, as you plant a little kiss.

And Eddie was sure this was heaven now, he blinked quickly to make sure he wasn't dreaming, the light kiss you left on his cheeks lingered, and he could feel it burn.

His cheeks were purely crimson red now, he couldn't fucking help it. He ached for you, ached to have you close to him, ached to feel your touch, and everything you did was enough to drive him crazy, make him feel out of his fucking mind.

He was putty in your hands and you had no fucking idea.

His mouth stood agape, a dumbfounded look overtaking his features for too fucking long until the soft buzz of the machine brought him back again, the needle quick to puncture the skin's surface again, causing Eddie to squeeze his eyes shut as he tried his best not to fucking scream.

Be cool, be cool, be fucking cool Edward Munson.

He repeated it like a mantra in his head, and he was glad you were focusing on tattooing the cute sketch you made for him, and not his actual face that probably looked straight out of a horror movie.

“So—uh... c—cool shirt,” Eddie muttered, voice so low that he was surprised when you hummed back at him.

“Oh, yeah,” You muttered.

“You listen to Anthrax?” You asked with a beaming smile, gaze still focused on Eddie's arm.

Eddie huffed painfully but realized quickly that the nervousness of talking to you was overpowering the pain of the tattoo gun drilling into his skin.

“Are you kidding? Anthrax, Judas Priest, Black Sabbath... Megadeth! You name it I probably listen to it,” He hummed, and your eyes glimmered, causing Eddie's breath to hitch and his wavering nervousness to appear again. “Metal is my jam, baby!” He exclaimed, not too loud to disturb your tattooing process but loud enough to cause a giggle out of you.

Metal is my jam? Baby? Who the fuck says that?

Eddie was afraid to look into your eyes now, afraid to see the gaze everyone gives him.

Like he's an outsider like he's a freak.

But when he hears that pretty giggle of yours again, comfort takes over him, nervousness dissipating quickly when he sees the gentle look you give him.

Almost as if to let him know that you also love those bands. Almost as if to let him know that he wasn't an outsider because you were just like him.

“Dio?” You asked with a curious gaze, face beaming up when Eddie nodded furiously.

“Fuckin' love Dio,” He muttered, barely realizing the needle on his skin now, all thanks to you.

“Uhh—how did you even get that shirt?” Eddie asked, almost shyly, admiring the way you were neatly tattooing him.

“I wanted to go to that concert so badly but the tickets were sold out so quickly.” He added.

“Oh! I was Belladonna's groupie,” You muttered mindlessly, the pain as you prickled the needle was an afterthought to Eddie now, almost forgetting how to breathe, he coughed, quite loudly, causing you to look up at him and see the bewildered look on his face.

You stopped the machine when you chuckled lightly, "Oh, Eds!"

There it was, that nickname again, god you were dizzying his mind.

“I was just joking,” You smiled at him, and he wanted to melt, right then and there. "Needed to go a little bit deeper so I thought I'd distract you," You shrugged, and Eddie returned the smile.

He liked the feeling of having someone care about him, he liked talking to you, and he sure as hell enjoyed being with someone so similar to him—someone so fucking cool.

“Though I did go to that concert in 1987.” You could feel Eddie’s curious gaze on you

“My friend knew their manager,” You murmured again.

"Really?!? How was it?" He asked, face beaming again.

“So fucking cool.” You gushed as you started talking about their set list, how the first punch you ever threw was at that concert, and you enthusiastically animated Donais' guitar riff, earning a hearty chuckle from Eddie. He loved every bit of your story, listening attentively as your exaggerations enticed him more and more.

The longer you tattooed him, the more comfortable Eddie got, pain was no longer his main concern when all he wanted to do was make you laugh, hear that sweet giggle escaping from your lips, admire the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him so sugary.

Minutes stretched into hours as you focused on his tattoo, each pass of the needle causing a smile on your face as the sketch you made became more intricate and alluring on his bare skin.

“All done!” You exclaimed with a smile when you finally finished tattooing him, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when the buzz of the machine was finally replaced with silence.

You couldn't help but trace every part of his face now, you wanted to see if he liked it, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach as you couldn't read Eddie's expressions.

“Oh my god,” Was all that left Eddie's lips, and your lips almost started to tremble.

Jesus fucking Christ, how bad did you fuck up?

“Oh my fucking god,” He repeated again, this time his head tilted upward to your direction, almost snapping as you looked at him with scared eyes.

But your gaze eased the second you saw the admiration in Eddie's gaze. “This is a fucking masterpiece!” He beamed, causing a smile on your lips, so fucking big and pretty that he wished he could have that tattooed instead.

“It's fucking perfect,” He muttered again, shaking his head in disbelief when he looked at the tattoo on his forearm.

“I mean when I saw that sketch, I knew you were good to , but holy shit,” He praised again, causing heat to grow in your cheeks, he had no idea how much it meant to you, to have someone appreciating your art, to have people walk around in the sketches you did, indelible on their skin. It felt so fucking good.

“It's...perfect.”

“Really?”

“Of fucking course,” He gushed. “You're so fuckin' talented it's crazy,” He muttered, fingertips gentle as they avoided glazing through the tattoo, but around it.

You were so fucking perfect it was killing him, and he couldn't help the giddy feeling inside of him knowing that your art would be etched into his skin, forever.

You couldn't shake off the thoughts in your head, swirling when Eddie uttered those compliments to you.

Your cheeks grew hot so quickly that you felt the need to turn around, trying to think of something to say to him so that you wouldn't look like a fucking idiot.

Eddie turned around to face you, the smile that brought out his dimples apparent in his face as he watched you scrabble something on a business card.

“Thank you,” You muttered when you turned around, hands almost shaking as you extended your arm to give Eddie the card.

He scrambled it into his back pocket, not caring when you were this close to him, but you frowned at that. “No, thank you, for this masterpiece” He winked, pointing toward his forearm.

He didn't even know where he got the confidence to even be able to wink at you, and his coolness wore off the second he exited the shop, a silent shrieking scream exited his mouth as he freaked out.

Your sketch. On his arm.

You. Tattoo artist. Metal fan.

You, kissing him on the cheek, talking to him for hours, laughing at his idiotic jokes.

You.

Eddie was sure he lost his mind, hands shaking as he reached for the card in his back pocket.

The card was black and the title on it was dripping with blood. He whined.

How much cooler were you going to get?

He gulped when he looked back, seeing you toward the clear glass door, and he knew.

He knew that if he didn't do it now, he could never do it, this was his only fucking chance, and he couldn't be a coward, not now, not when you were this close to him.

Eddie entered back into the shop in a frenzy, causing your head to pop up swiftly as you looked at him dumbfounded.

God, you were so gorgeous he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“C—can I ask you something?” He cleared his throat to not appear nervous, and you nodded, furiously.

“Look, I know this is weird and all... but... uhm, I really feel like we connected,” He muttered, fingers tapping against the glass counter that you were standing behind in.

“And I thought maybe... uhhh... I could like—get your number or somethin'?” He uttered anxiously, tilting his head slightly to the side, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.

And even though why you laughed was reasonable, it was the worst fucking thing you could have done to Eddie.

Especially when your laugh seemed so mocking, almost different than the ones you gave him earlier before. Jogging deep into this memory of the countless times when Eddie tried to pluck up the courage to ask girls in his class out, only to be laughed in his face, or to have them insult him.

But this was more than that, it pained him.

It pained him to think that you thought of him like the others did. Like you saw him as an outsider, too.

His bubble of confidence that was already wavering was even quicker to fizzle out, he could feel that familiar lump in his throat, shoulders slumping as his gaze was quick to show his emotions.

He was hurt. And he was sure this hurt much more than a thousand needles breaking the barriers of his skin, “Uhhh,” He gave you a bitter chuckle. “Just.... never mind” He added, defeatedly turning back around to exit the shop once again as he ignored you calling out for him.

“Wait!” You yelled out after him, but Eddie started walking faster.

“Shit shit shit!” You cursed yourself for your little joke.

“Eds, please!” You called out again, this time effective enough to make Eddie stop in his tracks.

Eds. Oh you knew how to get him hooked, how to get him right where you wanted him.

And he hated himself for being this weak for you, someone he met, just recently.

“What?” He answered coldly, glaring at you with bitterness that made you want to hide out, that gentle soul in him disappearing in mere seconds.

And you sighed, hating that he could ever see you as someone that would make fun of him.

“Flip the card,” Your gaze on him was intense, cheeks growing hot again knowing that you were going to see his reaction to your stupid note.

“I don't have time for your bullshit” He spat, almost on his feet to leave.

You sighed. “Eds, just... will you just please flip the card?” You asked, all prettily that Eddie couldn't help but oblige, but be gentle with you again because he couldn't resist it. He couldn't resist you.

He huffed as he plucked the card out of the back pocket of his jeans, turning it over in one swift motion.

'CALL ME IF U NEED A GROUPIE' and your digits were attached right below it.

His gaze softened immediately, head drooping further as he huffed at himself.

He felt stupid, so fucking stupid.

Why did he ever think you would treat him like the others?

His chest expanded with hope when he looked back up at you, a soft smile graced his lips.

“Oh,” He muttered, not able to help the childish grin that was now stuck to his lips.

“Shut up,” You giggled, nudging him slightly.

“You owe me,” You narrowed your eyes sarcastically, causing his brows to quip.

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, a newfound confidence washing him over when you were so easy to talk to.

“A date,” You beamed, scrunching your nose.

“Okay.” The words left his lips quickly, too quickly that it had you feeling giddy inside.

“How about tomorrow?” He didn't even know how he managed to get those words out without stuttering.

“Uhm—sure.” You were the one stuttering now, cheeks burning up as you could barely look at him. His grin was sickly inviting.

“I'll pick you up at 8?” You nodded so quickly that you were sure your head was about to fall off.

“See you tomorrow,” His voice was sultry as he winked again, making you almost melt, looking cool on the surface when all he wanted to do was go home, freak the fuck out, tell Wayne all about the cool girl who tattooed him, and not be able to sleep until your date tomorrow.

[littlexscarletxwitch]

Hi, would you be able to do a mutual pining yelena x avenger!reader kinda thing where yelena has been ignoring reader because she doesn’t know to how to deal with her feelings and when reader confronts her, yelena admits that she likes her? Mainly angst with fluff at the end if possible. Love your fics!!

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗶 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂

paring: yelena belova x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, some angst, mutual pinning, nat being the big sis

warning(s): yel having a hard time admitting her feelings, grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 1.8k

note: Soooooo sorry it took me soooo long to post this. I FUCKING LOVED THIS REQUEST btw. Also guys, it's taking me so long to post fic because a) my laptop is just a bitch and won't work, and b) I guess I'm going through a writer's block and it's kinda hard to find the motivation to write. But I'll try my best. Lots of love, M <3

requests are open! + check my rules + masterlist <3

Your legs were sore, you couldn't feel your arms anymore and you were gasping for air, but it wasn’t over until one of you was down.

“Can’t we take a break?” you whined out as you tried dodging Yelena’s fist but still made contact with your body and you groaned out in pain. 

“Focus, Y/n,” Steve called out, before Yelena would punch again. 

You knew she was holding back, measuring her strength, she always would when training with you. And you didn’t know if you found that reassuring or mocking. You kicked her in the stomach, but it still did not affect her, it was quite the opposite really. 

“That’s all you got?”

“Why? Wanna try something else?” you teasingly said while winking at her. 

You got her off guard, she wasn’t expecting your cocky self to show up while training, and seized the moment to swift her off her feet and got on top of her. 

“Was this what you had in mind?”

Your hands quickly found her wrists while your body pressed into her abdomen pushing her down so she wouldn’t get out of your hold. 

“Okay, I think it’s enough,” Steve called out, sensing you had gone off track. 

Both you and Yelena knew that she could easily get out of your hold, but still it took her two minutes to do so. You didn’t want to let her go that easily, you felt your whole body burning just by the thought of her skin against yours, still you stood up and got on moving before the two of you could have a say on what just had happened. 

That was how it always went with Yelena, one moment you had the courage to openly flirt with her and a second later you would run back to your dorm second guessing the whole interaction. You wanted to do more, each and every time, but she was so nonchalant about you flirting with her that you convinced yourself that it was just that, a flirty friendship. 

And most of the time you were okay with it, playing dumb about your own feelings. But then shit like that would happen, you would brush her skin, or would make her laugh, or just look at her, and the thought of a friendship would fly out of your mind. That was why you would lock up in your room, trying to calm and persuade yourself to not let your stupid feelings get in the way. 

And the same stupid thing would happen to Yelena, which you didn’t know about. 

“You want to talk about it?” Yelena heard her sister's voice as she watched you heading out the training room. 

“I wasn’t holding back, I swear.”

“Not about your punching,” she raised her brow at her little sister. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yelena shrugged it off as she grabbed her bottle of water and took a big sip. 

“Lena, I know you,” Natasha took advantage of the fact that her sister was chugging down water. “I know we don’t do feelings, we don’t trust people. But that was the old us, that was the red room. We have to put that shitty part of our lives behind us for good.”

“And I have,” Yelena scoffed. 

“Then why haven't you done something about it?” Yelena knew her sister meant you, she didn’t have to clarify. “At least, give it a go,” Natasha sighed. “If not for you, then for her.”

“She doesn’t—.”

“You never know, Lena. Neither will she, if you don’t tell her,” and with that Natasha left her sister to her own thoughts.

“Suka,” she mumbled under her breath, because Natasha was right. She was always right about everything, it was the power that came with being a big sister—her big sister—, and she hated it when she was right. 

She knew she had to do something about it, about you. But the fear of rejection, of feeling unwanted felt too much to bear. She wasn’t going to open up her heart just for someone else to crush it. But maybe, just maybe she could trust you not to crush it. 

[...]

Still, it was easier said than done. It took her a full week to finally come to the conclusion that she was, actually, madly in love with you. A week full of stress and anxiety because deep down she felt like she didn’t deserve to have these feelings towards you. 

And now that she knew exactly how she felt about you, it fucking terrified her. So she did what she thought was best and put some space in between the two of you. The thought of you clouded her brain and it was starting to affect her line of work, and she couldn’t have that. Being part of the avengers gave her life meaning, and she was not going to let her stupid feelings ruin that for her. Even though she wanted to be close to you, and just melt into your arms.

Of course, her coldness didn’t go unnoticed by you. You were confused, though. It wasn’t like Yelena to just shut you out. Even though you wanted more than just a friendship out of her, you wanted to consider yourself a friend of hers and it hurt that she was just avoiding you. 

You didn’t know what was going on, she just felt out of your reach. You asked her sister about it, she just told you to give her space and she would be okay, before muttering something under her breath and went on with her day. You asked Kate and she just completely avoided the topic and changed the subject.

The more she didn’t talk to you, not even glance at your direction, the more you felt like you had done something wrong, maybe she had found out about your feelings and now she was avoiding you because of them. She probably felt uncomfortable about them, she probably wanted nothing to do with you. And who were you to decide otherwise?

You talked to Steve, making sure to not have more training lessons with her, only to find out she had already asked the same thing. You knew it was stupid to feel as if your heart was breaking since you wanted the same thing, but it did feel like shattering to pieces. You just nodded, a tight smile finding its way to your lips and went to your room before shedding any tears. 

This whole thing was bullshit. Yes, maybe she didn’t feel the same way you did about her. But the both of you were full grown-ups, you should be professional about it and act like nothing had happened. Because in reality it didn’t, not that you were aware of it. So you decided that you were going to give her a piece of your mind. 

You searched for her throughout the entire building and finally found her in the training room. Of course she was there, you should have thought of coming there earlier. 

For a trained assassin she didn’t notice your presence, too caught up in her own mind, focusing on her breathing and throwing punches at the boxing bag. 

You cleared your throat. “Got a minute?”

She looked over her shoulder, finally acknowledging you there, and you swore you watched as her whole body just tensed up by the sound of your voice. 

“I’m kinda busy right now,” she mumbled before throwing two more punches. 

“It won’t take long,” you insisted, wanting to get this over with. 

“Look, I really need to—.”

You cut her off. “I don’t know who told you or how you found out, but yes, it’s true, okay?” you finally got her attention. “I just thought you would be professional enough to not let this get in the way and pretend like nothing happened. Which is what I also wish for.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You avoiding me,” you quickly mumbled, a tint of concussion in your tone. “I get it, but let’s just put this behind us and act like propper adults.”

“No, I’m aware of that part,” she scoffed, embarrassed to admit to you what she had been up to. “What I mean is, what have I found out?”

Your brows furrowed. “About my… me… and you,” you gave yourself a second to think her words through. “Hold on a second, you don’t know?” 

“What don’t I know?”

“You don’t,” you finally added two plus two and realised that Yelena had no recollection whatsoever about your feelings, but still something was off. “Why have you been avoiding me then?”

You watched her as her mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words. 

“What did I ever do to you for you to completely avoid me, huh?”

“You did nothing, I just…”

“You just what?” you scoffed, now anger filling your tone. “You just decided it was fun to ignore me?”

“No! God, no.”

“Then what is it?!” the two of you were pretty much screaming at each other. 

“Because I like you, damn it!” she finally confessed. “Is it so hard to see?”

Your eyes winded. “You like me? You have been avoiding me because you like me?”

“I know, not my brightest moment. But it's just that you… you just…” she gestured to her brain. “You’re just stuck here, and I can’t get you out. At first I was scared to admit my own feelings to myself,” she took a deep breath. “But then Tasha said something and it made me realise that there’s nothing wrong with having feelings. But then I had to admit to myself that I really fucking like you. And I just… I just got scared because you might not feel the same way, and you might just push me away,” another deep breath. “And I decided that I would push you away first… and so I did.”

“So you like me.”

“Yes,” her brows furrowed.  “Was that all you got?”

“I mean… it’s the part that matters most,” you grinned at her. 

“What do you mean?”

“I really fucking like you too,” you said cupping her cheeks. “I thought you knew and that was why you were avoiding me. But now I get it, I make you nervous,” you said teasingly. 

“I wouldn’t use that word…” you rolled your eyes before shutting her off with your lips, finally giving in and kissing her. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now,” you whispered over her lips as you deepened the kiss. 

Her lips were soft and rough, and they had some saltiness to them due to her being all sweaty. But you didn’t mind at all, in fact you really like it. 

“Remember last time we were here?” you whispered in her ear, trailing a path of kiss down her jaw and neck. 

“You mean… that time we last trained?” she sounded breathlessly and it sent a shiver down your whole body. 

“If I remember correctly, which I know I do…” you gently bit her skin earning a hiss out of her lips. “You were on the grown and I was on top of you, remember?”

“Yes…” she said as her fingers ran through your hair. 

“Want to pick up where we left it off?”

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

[justmeinadaze]

Secret Underneath Part 9 (Steddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: This was inspired by hectic day at work I had on Wednesday and this is what I needed so I wrote it into existence.

Enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Mid thirties) Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Young (Early to mid 20s) Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, reader is punished for her spicy attitude, spanking, light slapping, light hair pulling, overstimulation, use of toys, cock warming, very very light degrading (brat, dumb little brain), aftercare of course, FLUFF, they all love each other

ANGST! Y/N comes home from a bad day with an attitude, boys put her in her place (in the best possible way), mentions of some of the down fall of the their ex saying things in the tabloids as well as some mentions of consequences of being with the guys. Y/N briefly talks about her weight and how people gossip about why she's with them (They remind her she's perfect as is no matter what she looks like <3)

More than anything Y/N has some big feelings and just want to throw a tantrum knowing her boys can handle that.

Word Count: 3819

Series here/ Donate to Me

You growl as you enter their (now your) apartment and toss you things on the table as you stomp like a child to the refrigerator to grab a beer. 

Usually when the little girl came out, she just wanted her Daddies to take care of her but sometimes there were evenings like this. Evenings where she wanted to throw a tantrum till she was heard (and put in her place). 

You three had been back home for the past couple of weeks and things had been hectic to say the least. Steve had been losing clients and investments left and right while Eddie’s band was dealing with cancellations in regard to the things their ex kept saying in the tabloids. 

For them you did your best to keep things together and be there for them when they needed you but after today you couldn’t hold it in anymore. 

Neither man had yet to need to do that with you so you weren’t sure how they would react but in this moment with the headspace you were in, you didn’t care. 

“Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?”

“It was really fucking awful, Eddie. How was yours?”

At your tone, his head tilts as his eyes watch you fume to the couch and throw your body down. 

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“No! I just want everyone to leave me the fuck alone!”, you holler his way as you take a sip from your bottle and slam it loudly on the glass table in front of you.

“What’s going on out here? I’m trying to work and all I hear is shouting.”, Steve asks as he comes up beside his friend. 

“Ask Y/N how her day was. I dare you.”, the rockstar smirks as he gestures your way. 

Taking in your sour demeanor, the mogul takes a seat beside you.

“Did you have a rough day, honey?”

“Wow. I wonder gave that away.”, you sass under your breath. 

It’s incredibly heavy; the change in the air signaling that they are stepping into that dominate headspace you desperately needed. You love it so much especially when it seeps out of the two men you love. 

“We’re going to try this again. How was your day, Y/N?”

Your annoyed eyes meet his angry ones as your face changes and you display a big, obnoxiously wide smile. 

“Oh my God, Steven. I had the BEST day! People were soooooo nice and my boss is just a delight. I can’t wait to go back on Monday and do it all over again!”

As you speak, his own features never falter as his lips form into a thin line and his chest huffs at every sarcastic filled word. Eddie on the other hand was having the time of his life as he continued to stand behind the couch watching in amusement with a small smile that told you things were about to get interesting.  

You and Steve stare each other down for what feels like an eternity before he blinks and rises to his feet. 

“Get up.”

“No.”

He didn’t even hesitate as he bent down and grabbed your throat between his thick fingers. 

“I said…get…up.”

Swallowing down the moan that wanted to break free at his tone, you ran through every possibility in your mind of how this could go. You could say no again and see what they do. You were already going to be punished so what would it hurt to rile him up more. You could listen and follow him but where was the fun in that? You weren’t sure how far you wanted, no NEEDED, them to go so you could feel better but—

A light but firm slap to your cheek brought all your thoughts to a halt and for that you were grateful.

“If I have to say it again, you won’t like the outcome.”

“I’m sorry.”, you murmur as your eyes fall. 

“You’re sorry what?”

I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“This is the one and only time I’m reminding you of that. You don’t answer correctly there will be consequences. Am I being clear?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

His amber eyes scan you over before gesturing with his head towards the bedroom and this time you follow without complaint. 

“Take off your clothes and then sit.”, he commands as he points to the bed. 

As you do what you’re told, you watch Eddie disappear into the closet while Steve goes to his desk to close his laptop that he had been working on. 

“Told you I had handcuffs.”, the rockstar grinned. “Turn around.”

Was he in the right headspace? With him, you could never tell in the sense of he could still be is goofy self while being in dominate mode. It’s one of the many things you love about him. Maybe you could push back a little and see—

A hard tug of your hair had your wide eyes staring up at him as he continued to smirk down at you. 

“I may be nicer than he is but that doesn’t mean I’m a push over.” 

Your eyelids flutter slightly at the gruffness behind his words. God you need them both to toss you around this room and fuck you senseless—

“Jesus, you really are testing the brat limit aren’t you, little girl?”, he growled as he yanked on your hair again. “This is going to be a long evening if you don’t start listening. Now…turn around.”

You do as he says and as he clicks the metal around your wrists, Eddie leans over your shoulder to whisper in your ear. 

“How is that? Not too tight?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Good.”, he grins before delivering a hard slap to your ass. “Now kneel.”

Holding your bicep, he helped guide you on to your knees in front of Steve who was sitting in his desk chair leaning to the side on his fist with that annoyed look still plastered on his face. 

God, he looked incredibly sexy in his button up shirt he had rolled up to his elbows with the slacks and expensive shoes that catered to his long legs as they stretched—

Another hash spank to your behind brought you back as you realized Eddie had squat down beside you on his heels. Shifting your gaze, the rockstar had placed one of the many toys you three had in front of you. 

Glancing back to face him, you licked your lips at his strong clenched jaw and the way his tattoos looked against his bare chest—

“Nope. Come back, little girl.”, he scolded as fingers roughly pinched your cheeks. “You wanted to act like a brat so we’re going to treat you like one. Pay attention because I’m only explaining it once. The rules are actually pretty simple but with the way your dumb little brain is having trouble staying focused…”, he laughed mockingly making your jaw tighten in his grasp.

“Control the fucking attitude, Y/N. Do you hear me?”, he growled as the man pressed his forehead to yours. “I said do you hear me?”

“Yes. Daddy.”, you answer through clenched teeth. 

Another light smack to the face had you reeling as your brain became fuzzy in the best way possible. Licking his own lips, his hand turned you to face him again. 

“Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Daddy.” This time your response isn’t filled with aggravation but desperation as you try to tilt your lips towards his before he pulls away leaving you wanting. 

“Ride.”, Eddie orders as his eyes gesture towards the dildo in front of you. “Don’t stop until we tell you to.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

As he leans back against Steve’s desk beside his friend, you lower yourself on to the toy with a moan and begin to bounce on your knees. 

“Keep your eyes forward, Y/N.”, the mogul commands. “Why are you being punished?”

“This—mmm—doesn’t feel like a punishment.”

The rockstar chuckles as he glances up towards the mogul who tilts forward, placing his elbows on his knees. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Keep going, honey. Make yourself cum.”

After what felt like an eternity, sore knees, and a few orgasms later, you felt your resolve begin falter. 

“No one told you to stop, Y/N.”, Eddie scolded as you lazily bounced upward. 

“My…legs…”

“Should have thought about that before you started being disrespectful.”, Steve replied calmly. “Color?”

“Green…Daddy…”

“Geez, Ed, look at her. Still so fucking defiant. We can do this all night if you want, baby. Since you’re having such a good time.”

Your body froze and you couldn’t help but softly cry as you tried to will it to keep going. 

“I-I’m…I can’t…”

Crawling to your side, ringed fingers lightly pushed you sideways and you groaned as you tipped over on to the floor. You hiss as Eddie removes the toy from between your legs and lifts you up to place you on the bed with your head hanging just so over the side. 

Pulling down his sweats, you couldn’t help but sigh as his hard, leaking cock was freed from its confinement. He was insanely turned on after watching you which had a sense of pride flowing through your body.

“Don’t get too confident, little girl. The punishment isn’t over.”, he chided as he leaned over you to slap your cunt with his palm. 

As he crawled to position himself between your legs, Steve slid over in his chair towards your head and lifted it up with his massive palm. 

You pushed back against him while mewling loudly as Eddie guided himself inside you. 

“Fuck me, she’s so fucking tight.”, he groaned as his fingers dug into your thighs. “Stop it.”, he scolded when you tried to roll your hips.

“I thought you couldn’t move anymore?”, Steve mused in a sarcastic tone. “I mean that’s absolutely fine, honey. We got you.”

The sound of vibration filled the room and you squealed when the man inside you pressed the wand to your clit. 

“You had the best fucking day ever, right? That’s what you said? What a way to end it huh?!”

Your eyes fluttered and your fingers dug into the comforter underneath you as you came hard around Eddie’s cock making his face twitch as his mouth fell open slightly. 

“P-Please, Daddy…move…”

“I think I’m—fuck—alright where I am. Just warming my dick in this quivering pussy.”

You whine like a child, even kicking your feet for added measure before you’re spanked a few times in quick succession and your legs fall against the bed.

The rockstar is ruthless with the wand in his hand as he presses it roughly against your nub and shakes it forcing a couple more orgasms out of you without once thrusting his hips.

That’s all you could think about as you began to sob; how badly you wanted them to fuck, hold, and praise you. How much you needed to hear their comforting tones again.

How much you loved them and appreciated everything they did for you. 

The vibration stopped and you sigh pleasantly as both of Steve’s hands clung to either side of your head as his breath warmed your ear. 

“Why are you being punished?”

“B-B-Because I was being a brat and—and disrespecting you both.”, you cried.

“Do you think Daddy deserved that?”

“No…no, sir. I’m so sorry.”

“And what are we going to do the next time we have big girl feelings like you did today?”, Eddie asked as he placed his own palms against the mattress, hovering above you.

“T-Talk to you, Daddy. I’m sorry. I-I-I got so overwhelmed and—”

“Shhhhh, sweetheart. Don’t think about that right now. All I want you to do is focus on my cock and how good it feels. That’s all I’m focusing on so I don’t cum yet.”, he whispers as his forehead rests on yours. “Your pussy is so wet, Daddy can slide deeper into you. Can you feel me, baby? Can you feel Daddy?”

At his words, he slowly pumps his hips eliciting a moan from your lips that has him smiling down at your beautiful face. 

“Yeah, you do, baby girl.”

His mouth descends on yours for a quick kiss before pushing up onto his knees and lifting your leg over one of his shoulders. Gripping your thighs tightly, he pounds into you at a blistering speed as the obscene echo of your slick fills the room. 

Eddie’s grunts drive you crazy and you would give anything to be able to touch him. 

“Come on, Y/N. Cum again for me.”, he pants knowing he won’t last much longer. 

As your back arches, he fucks you through you bliss and as your legs tremble, Eddie slams his release hard into your cunt as you whine at the force.

“Fuck.”, the rockstar grumbled as he allowed your pussy to milk him before rolling out of the way as his friend grabs your arms and manhandles you till your straddling his waist. 

His amber irises remain locked on yours as he unbuckles his belt and you lift yourself so he can push his pants with his boxers down his thighs. Taking ahold of his shaft, you gradually guided yourself down on to him with the two of you mewling at the stretch. 

“You got this, honey. Just grind your waist—shit—just like that. Go at your own pace.”

“My…pussy is so…tight, Daddy.”

Pushing up on to his palms, he tenderly kisses your cheek.

“Color, baby?”

“G-Green. I don’t…know how much…more I can take.”

“You’re doing so good, baby girl. Daddy is so proud of you. Can you give me one more? Just one more, pretty girl.”

Nodding your head, you bounced your hips as hard as you could relishing in the sounds of his heavy breathes as they fanned your face. Cupping your cheeks in his hands, he fell back on the bed bringing you with him as he kissed your lips. 

“I’m gonna fuck you, Y/N. Can your little pussy handle it?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, f-fuck, please.”

Behind you, you feel his legs move and you can’t help but giggle when his pants get caught on his ankle. Softly grinning, he wraps one arm around your back to keep you balanced as he reaches down to kick them off the rest of the way. 

Planting his feet into the mattress, Steve thrusts up into you aggressively, hitting that overstimulated spongey spot inside of you as he clung to your body and held you against his chest. 

You didn’t hold back as the coil in your belly snapped and a loud scream erupted from your chest. At the sensation, the mogul’s hips sputter as he coats your walls with his spend. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Good…good girl, baby.”, he cooed as he pet your head but when he realized your tears weren’t stopping, he and Eddie locked eyes, silently having a conversation as they kicked into the other side of their dominate mode. “It’s ok, honey. You’re ok and your safe. I’m going to uncuff you, alright?”

As soon as you nod, Steve blindly reaches behind you till he hears a low click but when he tries to bring your arms forward you don’t move. 

“Baby girl, I need to look you over to make sure you’re ok. Can you sit up for me?” His heart breaks when you shake your head as you continue to quietly cry. “It’s ok. We’re right here, Y/N.”

“Sweetheart, can you drink this for me please?”

Again, you shake your head.

“I’ll make you a deal. You drink some of this water and let us do some aftercare and when we’re done we’ll order pizza from that place you like, have a beer, and listen to music.”, Eddie soothes, tenderly smiling when you finally lean back to meet his gaze. “There she is…so beautiful…”

Taking the bottle from his hands, you sip some of the liquid and he praises you as he takes it back to place it on the bedside table. Noticing you wince at your sore muscles, the rockstar promptly lifts you into his arms and carries you into the bathroom where he places you into the bath he had already made. 

After gesturing towards your wrists, you show them to him and he makes note of the slight indents in your skin as he rubs them gently with his thumb. 

“Do you think you’ll need some ice?” His eyes scan you over cautiously when your head shakes once more. “Baby, I know sometimes when you get into this headspace it takes you some time to come back but can you tell me one thing? This isn’t our fault is it? We didn’t push you too hard or too rough?”

Hearing the pain in his voice, you reach for his hand and thread your fingers between his. 

“No, Daddy. I needed this.”

“Ok.”, he murmurs. “Be prepared though, Harrington is going to do that panicky thing where he talks in run on sentences without taking a breath because he wants to see you smile.”

As if on cue, Steve rounds the corner in his boxers, still wearing the button up he had before with his phone in his hand. 

“Ok, I ordered the pizza so it should be here in about twenty minutes and I also added some more of that beer you like to it just in case. If you don’t want that, baby, we have wine that Eddie brought home the other day. I got the living room ready with some blankets and pillows but there’s no rush…”

The mogul’s voice trails off when he hears your laugh as his friend flashes him a big, toothy smile. 

“What?”

“No, nothing, man. You’re just doing that thing again.”

“I don’t think I’m going overboard here. She had a bad day!”

“Mhmm.”, Eddie teased as he helped you to your feet and guided you to the bed. “There you go, sweetheart, lift your foot for me.”

Once you were in some comfy clothes, they brought you to living room where Steve had indeed set up pillows and cushions from the couch into a little area with blankets in front of the glass to the back patio so you could see the snow that had begun to fall. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, honey?”

“I…I just need to…I don’t know…throw a tantrum…I guess.”

Grinning your way, Eddie reached out to push some lose hair behind your ear. 

“We understand, princess. We really do.”

“We didn’t go too far, right?”

“No, Steve, you didn’t go to far. It was everything I needed in the moment. Thank you.” As your voice cracked, both men scooted closer to you to comfort you. “I didn’t…go too far…right?”

“No, baby. You were perfect as always.”

“It didn’t occur to me till…till I came down from my high…that…that...” Tears began to fall again as you stuttered over your words. 

“Hey, take your time, Y/N. You can tell us anything.”, Steve cooed in his Daddy tone that made you feel safe. 

“When I was being a brat…We’ve never really talked about…Did I remind you of her?”

“Of who, sweetheart?”, Eddie asked genuinely confused. 

“Gina.”

“Oh, baby—”

“I know she was always bratty and a bitch, screaming at you and being rude…hurting you. You both have been going through so much lately because of her and it kills me. The last thing I want to do it trigger something or—”

A ringed finger over your lips silenced you while you were rambling. 

“You’re doing that thing Steve does.”, the rockstar smiles as his friend narrows his eyes his way. “No, Y/N. You didn’t remind us of her. What you did when you came home isn’t even close to how she was. Like you said, you threw a tantrum. She used to be vindictive. I don’t even know how to explain it.”

“You don’t have to.”, you whimper as you reach up to caress his cheek.

“Is that why you were upset? Because of what we’ve been going through?”, Steve asked.

“It’s part of it…”

“What’s the other part?”

“I haven’t told you this but…people whisper about me at work. They don’t understand why I’m still a teacher if I’m with men who have money.”, you roll your eyes. “Those whispers bother me the most because it just shows how people would use you.”

“What about the other whispers, honey?” When you jaw clenches and you turn away, the mogul lightly grabs your chin and brings you back around to face him. “Are they about Gina?”

“No…not exactly…they are similar to things she’s said. That there has to be some motive for you being with a girl like me because…”

“Because you’re full figured?”

“Because I’m fat and poor, Eddie.”, you snap. “Let’s not fucking sugarcoat it.”

“Look at me, Y/N.”, he growls in deep voice you had never heard from him before. “Don’t ever let me hear you talk about yourself like that again. You say that like those are flaws. Yeah you don’t make a ton of money but you’re doing something you love and are really fucking good at. Are you a bigger girl? Yeah but that doesn’t change how goddamn beautiful you are and how kind your sarcastic fucking heart is.”

As you laugh through your tears, they smile as Steve reaches out with to catch them with his thumb. 

“My final straw was when my boss called me into his office ‘to talk’. I was so terrified that I was going to be fired even though he said my relationship was fine but then he asked if Steve would be willing to invest money into the school so we can get new shit we don’t need and it just…” When you growl in frustration both men can’t help but chuckle as the rockstar leans forward to kiss your temple. 

“It still amazes me sometimes that a woman like you exists, Y/N.”, the mogul tenderly smiles as he tilts down to kiss your lips. “You are a rarity, baby. We’ve gotten used to people like your boss but you’ve never been like that. You have no idea how much that means to us. Add in your beauty and that kind, sarcastic fucking heart.”

The three of you giggle as Eddie sticks out his tongue and winks. 

“I’m so sorry you’re going through that, honey. Do you want us to talk to your boss?”

“No, Steve. I can handle it. Today was just…”

“A lot. Yeah, we get that. Things are, um, probably about to get heavier, sweetheart, since we have mediation soon with our lawyers and the Siren.”

That makes you cackle so hard that you fall into the rockstar’s chest as he presses your beaming face into him and kisses your forehead. 

“You two can throw tantrums to…if you need to…”

As the doorbell rings, they smile at you as Steve gets up to answer the door.

#############################

@aol19 @paradisepoisons  @paleidiot @dashingdeb16

@lilaclazer @joannamuns9n @thwippyparker @emotionaldreamer

@aactuaaltraash @alastorssimp @mygirlchaos @starksbabie @imagine-all-the-imagines @hardladyheart @myherometalhead @chelebelletx @supraveng

[winterarmyy]

Imagine a like avenger!Bucky x shape shifter! Reader.

It could be enemies to lovers smut too because why not?

The reader is the beast boy but a girl version...you can make them green

I don't see skin color 🙄(I'm joking,I'm black)

What if you make the reader green it could be like Bucky's in his room and he hears crying so he follows the sound to find y/n crying because she messed up on a mission and some agents said mean things idk and he is trying to comfort her and then they kiss and then more idk

Then, if she isn't green it could be .....sex pollen...she gets hit with sex pollen while on a mission and comes back...well you know worked up? She's in pain and even those Bucky "hates her" he also wants to help her so he..how do I say this.. he fucks her brains out.

I'm Not Like Her

Y/N had her heart broken when some agents made fun of how her body look and Bucky came in clutch with the rescue.

Note: I'm not even open for asks but your brilliant mind just spark something in me! Plus, i see you a lot in my comments so here you are... and the pic is hilarious btw 🤣

Pairing: avenger!bucky x shape shifter!reader

Words: 1.5k++

Warnings: mild enemies to lovers, hint fat shaming, angst, bucky likes to tease the reader but not too much, fluff, cause he secretly loves her, allusion to smut??? and sam just being himself.

Idea explanation: personally i don't think i'm qualified enough to write about being discriminate against for skin color. I need more research of it.

BUT, physically, i am on the curvy side. I don't have a flat stomach, my thighs are bigger than they supposed to. cause i'm fucking 4'11 (so i look fat for my height). And i know what it feels like when people comment abt that.

Soooooo instead of turning green, imagine that the reader doesn't have the fit and perfect model-like body like other agents. Her powers? She can shape shift into any living being (person/animals/aliens) for a short amount of time, like 3-7mins.

Bucky Barnes is a bully. He'd do anything to annoy the shit out of Y/N. Everything he does just ticked her off, you name it; hair pulling, cheeks pinching, mean little jokes about how Y/N would suffocate him to death if she ever sit on him.

Bucky Barnes acts exactly like a mean teenage boy who bullies the person he likes. But she doesn't know that, does she?

What she knew was he is a menace that loves to see her bright red, in embrassment and anger. What she knew was he likes to dig into her skin and ripped her heart out from how vexingly mean he is with her.

But, he was never cruel. No. He is the sweetest a man can be when he wants to. She still remembered those days he would drop off bunch of her favorite snacks and sweets during that week she was hospitalized from a rough mission.

Don't get her wrong though, he still teases her A LOT during those visits but it was sweet of him to come by and cheer her up.

But if he wasn't cruel. Then, why was she on the verge of tears?

Y/N stood alone in the kitchen, her hands strongly gripped onto the edges of the counter like she would shatter it with her bare hands. At time like this, she wished nothing more than just to shift into a bird and fly away.

Just so far away that no will able to catch her.

But those agents certainly did shot a bullet through the thickness of her gut when they said those words.

Y/N was just going to grab a cold drink after her sparring with Bucky, when she heard their vile whispers. She stopped at her tracks and hid behind the wall the moment she heard her name was mentioned.

"I don't understand why we keep her around. Did you see her panting for air from a quick sparring with Barnes? And doesn't she sound like a pig?" He sneered.

"We keep y/n around cause she has powers you, dumbass. Why are you being mean anyway, didn't you guys had a thing like 2 weeks ago?" The other voice said.

"It was a prank. Didn't think she'd believe it. Me dating her? Please. Not in any universe." He trailed, "Though if she shift into Natasha, then maybe I'll consider fucking her." Y/N could hear his smirk even from the block of the walls.

The other man laughed as if it was funny, "But it only lasts so long though? What if she turn back into herself when you have your cock inside her?"

The man gagged and said, "Ewww please stop. That's just fucking disgusting."

And when they left the kitchen, Y/N aimlessly went to the area. What was she gonna do just now? Oh, get some cold water. But why won't her hands move? They've been digging into the hard surface of the counter for how long now? If she goes any harder, her fingers would bleed. And why's her vision was blurry? Why there's wetness on her cheeks?

She didn't even notice that she was crying, beause she was so focused on fixing her own broken heart. And even if her pride was left to almost nothing, but she held on. She chose hold on to it for as long as could. Cause deep down she knew they were right.

No one's gonna love her for who she is, they will always be blinded by the flaw of her body and not see the pure of her heart. And if that is the ugly truth she had to face, then she chose to love herself. To be proud of herself.

But it is so hard does it? How can you love yourself when no one else is willing to love you?

"Doll?" Bucky's voice was soft when he called her that she didn't even heard him the first time around.

When Bucky heard sounds of someone sniffling, he knew that someone was crying. So he followed the hiccups of voice to the kitchen. But he didn't expect the culprit would be Y/N.

He almost rushed to her when she continued to sob, "Hey hey hey, what's wrong sweets? Did you hurt yourself?" He briefly cupped the softness of her cheeks before slightly holding up her hands to see if there's any cut from it.

When he noticed that there weren't any physical injuries, the tense of his muscles relaxed just a little bit. His big hands went to reach her face again, and gently wiped her tears away. He was so tender with his hold but his tone was far from it, "Who did this to you?"

And she told him exactly what happened. Even with hiccups in between her ranting breath. He listened. He listened to every single word she had to say, not cutting into her confession, not even once. And Y/N didn't know why she told him that. He supposed to be the last person she complained to about her look, about her weakness, about her flaws.

Bucky Barnes, the same one that loves to tease her about it all. He wasn't supposed to hear the dooms of her heart. But, he was. He was listening to her.

And he was seeing red.

Bucky had never felt rage this powerful in his life, he swore that if he let it consume him, the tower would be painted with blood. But, he held back. For her.

Because she needed someone to be there for her. And Bucky felt he was the luckiest to be that person.

"I'm not like her." She whispered tiredly. "I'm not like her, Bucky. I'm not attractive like Natasha or pretty like Zendaya or even Steve at that matter, like he has such tiny waist for his built, and he's a fucking man!!" She ranted every minor things that bothered her to him.

Bucky thought of his words for a while and simply said, "Yes, you're not like Natasha, or Zendaya, or Steve..." he chuckled at the end, "...But that's the best bits about you, doll." There was this flare in his eyes that Y/N couldn't wrap her finger around it.

"Are you making fun of me, right now?" She glared in between the tears in her eyes.

"No, I'm only telling you the truth." Bucky tucked her hair as he continued, "So what if you're not like her? There will always be someone that will see you more that just a piece of meat to fuck."

"Well, then I won't have that someone then."

"Oh, but I know one person though." Bucky grinned, "Me."

Y/N was rendered speechless when he confessed his true feelings.

"Doll, have you ever wonder why I love pinching your cheeks so much?" His fingers started to trail across her cheeks and his stare lingered in her eyes as his naughty hands find their way to her hips.

"It's because I was desperately trying to avoid grabbing these soft, thick thighs of yours." his eyes darkened the moment that he said, "And oh baby the things I'd do for you just to slide my cock between them."

It was like she was hypnotized by the way his hardened bulge grinding against her tummy. It felt good and his lust-filled gaze was doing nothing but making her wet, "Bucky..." she whispered.

Bucky lips was so gentle on her eyelids and her temple, until his teeth grazed along her neck and his groaning call reached her ears, "And do you know why I was pissed when we were sparring just now?" Asked before quickly clarifying, "It's not because I lost to you."

He grinded a particularly hard thrust against her that he accidentally moan in pleasure, "Oh babydoll, no. It's because I have this absolutely gorgeous girl on top of me, and her slutty body was just so close to me that I got so fucking hard. "

Bucky lifted her face towards his to watch how she was melted in his touch, "I was so pissed, because I can't fuck you the way I want to." His lips was so close, hovering over her own as he confessed.

But suddenly they felt a splash of water hitting side of their face, "Woah woah woah. Down, boy. Bad bucky. Bad!" Sam yelled. Imagine his surprise when he got into the kitchen to see Bucky literally humping on Y/N like a dog in heat.

They didn't even notice him approaching them with a glass of water in his hand.

Though Y/N was absolutely red in embrassement, but surely Bucky doesn't give a fuck. He didn't even acknowledge Sam's pleas to stop, especially when he crashed his lips on hers.

Y/N moaned lewdly as he effortlessly lifted her on the kitchen isle, feeling his clothed cock rubbing against her needy cunt. At that point, who cares if anyone's watching. She wanted him so bad. As bad as he wanted ruin her.

Sam scrambled backwards when Bucky started to unzip his pants, "Shit he's going feral." He dramatically ran across the halls leading to the kitchen as he announced, "Okay people, out. Get out. No one is allowed to the kitchen unless you want to be in debt cause I am not paying for your therapy."

Safe to say the kitchen was a fucking mess when Bucky was done with her and the cleaning crew was traumatized by the amount of wetness and cum they had to clean around the area.

End.

A/N: This was so random but I hope you enjoyed it! Drop some thoughts behind for me to pick up and squeal at, would you?

[tacharie]

Thoughts for The Montkraken Episode

so, I just finished the chapter and… wow I have a lot to say. I took screen shots for every part I wanted to talk about and I think this rant will be SUPERRRR long so bear with me. Tumblr won’t let me add screenshots so when I have better service I’ll edit the post to add them. These paragraphs are theories and side notes that I wrote after reading a certain section so you’re gonna see my thought process throughout the story. As always, spoilers ahead so I recommend skipping this if you haven’t read it already.

Alright so I was once a hater of this ship BUT… the Shobaru shippers may have a point in this guys 😭. LIKE.. I HAVE THE SCREENSHOT OF SUBARU BLUSHING UHHH. That is not a heterosexual stare feller 🤨…

AHHHHHHH THE FROSTHEIM DUO ARE BACKKKKK!!! I missed them so so much they’re so silly and deserve the best. Honestly the only two I trust in this school cause I CANT. I literally suspect anyone but them, but Imma be so disappointed if either of them are hiding something. I’ll be sad, but like I’ll help 🙄. I was actually so sad when the MC mentioned being the reason they could be in danger like GIRLLLLL DONT SAY THAT PLEASEEEEE. ITS LIKE THE ANGST WITH ADEUCE AND YUU LIKE STAWPOPP. Also when the Vagastorm kids were like “aw yeah Mido wouldn’t lie like that” it makes me happy that people can at least trust him enough to be honest and idk I found that kinda sweet :3. We’re also getting a bit of a timeline, like the One-Eyed Sleeping Beauty Murder being BEFORE the clash (sorry if this was already mentioned I don’t really remember stuff from the past chapters) which could’ve been a trigger.

Also, I feel like they’re trying to tell us that Jiro is Zenji’s brother because when he had that little laugh about the MC being scared of bodies, he said too. When you click the “too?” option, he just says that he isn’t the one afraid. It’s not Yuri as well cause he’s literally a doctor that is in the same room when autopsies are in session. Whatever the case, I assume he was referencing to Zenji, though it being a blurry memory. Little theory tho.

OK SO THIS IS JUST SO FUNNY TO ME. In Chapter 9’s title it says, “Girl Learns Shocking Truth About Monster”. I like to think the shocking truth was the fact he didn’t shower for 3 days 😭. CAUSE THATS THE PART SHE SOUNDS MOST SHOCKED. Idk that part was silly to me. THEY’RE OUTFITS FOR THEIR DORM IS SOOOOOO PRETTY. They ate I fear, a bit more than the other dorms. Also side note, they dropped A LOT of info with just how they word things. For example, Yuri saying “Jiro, you are well aware that I will not be associated with those germs AGAIN.” Soooo Yuri was in Frostheim? I don’t doubt it bc there’s another line that says “I’d rather not recall how bitterly cold that place is” which can MEAN TWO THINGS. I’m super sure that they’re implying that yeah, he was, but then something happened blah blah blah.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH HYDE AND DANTE??? Like ok bitches, spill your shot to us too don’t be shy. So, confirmed by them, Dante and Hyde used to go to school in Darkwick (which I assume the rest of the teachers are too). That explains their back and forth. WHAT REALLY CAUGHT MY EYE WERE THESE LINES.

Hyde: “…You really are a softie, Dan-Dan.” (Haha Dan- Dan)

Dante: “It would seem that way to someone as cold as you.” (???) “…There are lines that shouldn’t be crossed, Hyde.”

Hyde: “…I’ll keep that in mind.”

WHATTTTT. WHAT ARE THE LINES. GO IN DETAIL ARGHHHHH. This gives us more info on the character individually too. Dante describes Hyde as cold… DANTE. So, it was obvious that this whole happy go lucky attitude was fake, but I expected to be more like Haru’s kind of attitude not like that yk?? now I know how much of a cash grab this game is, but I really hope they aren’t going to stretch the story out too long to the point where you have to P2W cause I haven’t paid a cent and I don’t plan to. I still want to learn more about them and stuff so :(. On the topic of Dante, there was a small flashback where I missed a word in the sentence that Dante said while talking with Alan. “I’m the man you supposedly killed.” Supposedly?? Now, I didn’t my catch this in my first run, but now it’s like wdym supposedly?? Shouldn’t you know? This is giving hella Jiro vibes and honestly, I’m getting sick and tired of these characters having a bad memory.

SPEAKING OF JIRO- he seems to have problems remembering things and they come back to him in the very weird moments (honestly a kin moment). I would like the think that he’s just suffering from the damages he had to go through from the clash. His relationship with Yuri is so… sad to me. Yuri seems to doubt him a little bit and I feel like he sees him as just a specimen, not much of a friend. Meanwhile, Jiro smiles a lot to Yuri and listens to him like a master, like that’s what he’s supposed to do. NOT AGAINST HIS OWN WILL DONT GET ME WRONG. He’s just so neutral about it it makes me a bit like awwww :(. They’re cute tho idrc.

Ok moving on to Haku and Tohma. (Ok at this point I’m getting nervous cause why are we seeing so many characters now. That’s probably just a coincidence). OK THESE TWO HAVE GOT IT GOING. Like there’s tension when you get their chat in the campus but this is like woahhhh… Also I don’t like how Tohma says “our wheelhouse? I see..” it makes me think he’s like implying “so you think you’re a part of them now?” IDK THATS JUST MY LITTLE STRETCH. Also poor Zenji, he’s like “aw yeah I died in vain lol” LIKE OUCH.

Nicholas. I DO NOT LIKE HIM. I REPEAT. I DO NOT LIKE HIM FOR A MINUTE OF A SECOND. The only staff I like are the cats, the grocer guy, and MAYBE Dante. LIKE HES SO… NORMAL?? LIKE THERE’S SOMETHING WEIRD GOING ON IK THERE IS. When MC says “I can’t believe Professor Nicolas would do something like that” I DO 😡🙋‍♀️. I am in full support of Yuri finding crimes against this guy.

Also, little other side note, I just realized that Yuri and Jiro have matching earring in opposite ears. It’s so cute.

Ok I might have to go back to the beginning and see what the “goat like anomaly” Jiro is talking about when he mentions the prophecy, cause I said “… the chancellor is a goat??” BUT ANYWAYS. Speaking of the prophecy, I’ll jot it down.

“The whisper of the new moon shall lead the champion to the academy on the solitary island. So long as the champion resides there, the world shall be sheltered from profound tragedy.”

Stating the obvious here, but this is most likely referencing to the last cutscenes we get when we choose our characters. I’ve checked the cutscenes again and there’s no visible moon, meaning it could correlate to the “new moon” portion. (Search up new moon to see what I mean). Assuming Solitary island means death, that would also help with the theory. So, whoever we chose in the beginning might just be the person who won the Laurel Crown.Honestly, this is just a silly little Drabble for a theory and VERY vague. Maybe the champion resides in the events of the past that we still don’t know about but this kinda helps?? Idk I’m just putting what I think at the moment. I’ll probably reread the game so I can get a better timeline. Also, Yuri’s rant about demon particles… doesn’t exactly sit right with me. Were they chosen to be resilient or was it just a birth thing?? Idk but I feel like a lot is missing from his theory. I mean, we’re using human logic to a supernatural cause so I don’t think pacts acting as allergies would work. If they’re not chosen, could it be that the ghouls can make pacts with more than one demon? I wanna see what happens if that was the case. Please comment if I missed something 😭.

Ok Towa appeared. (Why are we seeing so many characters I don’t like this) and we went back to that tree… WHAT IS THAT TREE?? And what the hell do you mean the fruit grew? What is that fruit supposed to be? An anomaly going to birth?? Is it supposed to represent the houses?? Motivation?? It seems so weird to me cause we just got introduced to that tree last episode. Sighs.

OK REN AND RITSU. WHAT IS GOING ON. I GUESS SINCE THIS IS THE LADT CHAPTER FOR INTRODUCING CHARACTERS BUT LIKE … STOP. I feel like something is going to happen with the MC pls 😭. Anyway, those two talking about ramen is so cute please don’t ever change you virgin and lizard looking freak 🫶( with love of course). GROCER GUYYYYYYY. YIPPEE :3!! I love that the cat is the owner and not the human lmao.

Also I will always be a MC defender cause she is so relatable. “Why are hospitals so creepy at night?” GIRL IKKKKKK. Idc what y’all say, the fact that she’s normal is keeping me sane from these freaky deaky events. ILOVE NORMAL CHARACTERS! LIKE MATSUDA FROM DEATH NOTE OR THAT ONE GUY FROM MASHELE. Anyways, I love her little comments and everything she’s so silly. Idrc if she doesn’t have much of a backbone cause honestly, she’s surrounded by danger so the best she should do is listen to the people that are constantly surrounded by it.

ALSO NEW THING. (Well idk if it’s new but yeah).

mention of a Dionysia Breakout. <—— Idk what that is, but it sounds like a little more. I love little details and slip ups thanks characters <3!!

HA! HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA! I WIN NICOLAS 😈!!! YOU DO HAVE SOMETHING TO HIDE. AND I WILL FIND IT TRUST YOU WILL BE DELT WITH. I WILL KNOW THE PRIOR PAST >:(!! Also, Moby is being soooo annoying tbh. More character descriptions to add: competitive as a teacher. NO ONE WILL MAKE YOU HATE YOU JIRO ‼️‼️‼️ HES SO SWEET He literally asks if we’re scared and says we can hang back awwww. Though he doesn’t understand much, he can use logic and he can at least understand how we feel. It’s a nice sentiment :)!

I can’t take the transformation seriously I’m sorry. I’m still impressed by Yuri’s deductive skills and the transformation just sounded like he was constipated.

THE WHOLE BATTLE SCENE WAS EPIC!! MC HESITATING BECAUSE OF LEOS WORDS BUT STILL PUSHING FORWARD. YURI GETTING FLUSTERED. JIRO SMILING AND TRUSTING YURI’S ORDERS. THE FUNNY EXCHANGE ABOUT MUSCLE WHEN THEY WERE CARRYING THE POD. Those annoying ass pussy sticks we call Darkwick students 😡. JIRO LOOKING BADASS AFTER THE SHOT. URGHHHH I LOVE THIS CHAPTER.

HARU AND PEEKABOOOOO!! AHHHHH IM SO HAPPY I SEE THEM AGAIN!! I’m so glad he’s going to Hyde too cause I’m not ready. Also… the mermaid thing is so weird. For the Montkraken Mermaid, they seem to refer to it as “it” or “that mermaid”, but when they speak of the second mermaid, they use personal pronouns like “he /him”. Haru’s expression as well when he heard someone was abusing mermaid flesh… it’s a new one with a little crease under his eye. It’s such a sad face like, did he know this mermaid personally or was this fear?? Either way, I wanna meet him cause the other one was so pretty.

…You guys know the “I see who you are… you are my enemy” sound that’s on TikTok or reels or wtv? YEAH THATS SONG WAS PLAYING IN MY HEAD WHEN HYDE SAID WE HAD TO DO A SPEECH. HYDE IM IN YOUR WALLS. URGHHHH I HATE HIMMMMM. Call to action my ass IK either Taiga or Leo are gonna get their asses out of the door after the speech. OR BOTH. I’m starting to tweak.

NOOOOO THE SPEECH IS THE NEXT CHAPTER?? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

I feel so bad for Zenji… like I’m so deadass. Dude he sounds so sad about how he’s dead it’s so.. URGHHHH. ALSO I CALLED IT. THEY ARE BROTHERS. AHAHHAHA!! Well it was kinda obvious cause everyone thought it too but WOMP WOMP. Also I love his real name, Taro Kirisaki. It’s pretty :)!! But these lines killed me

“and though I have taken my final blow, my brotherly heart can’t help but worry for my kin. … Not that he has any idea I’m still around.” YEOUCH?? I DIDNT COME TO CRY BRO…

I’m tweaking out because of this speech bro. I’m gonna choose the corniest stuff and hope for the best. “I feel bad please stop for me 🥺” headass.

Taiga is officially my enemy as well. I called that shit about him leaving URGH. WHAT A FLIBBERTYJIBBET!! His outfit eats tho so it balances out. LIKE DAMNNNN. HE LOOKS SO GOOD.

DOUBLE?? TRIPLE??? QUINTUPLE???? HELL I MIGHT BECOME A GHOUL TO GET THAT MONEY GOLLY 😍😍😍!! CAUSE IN THIS ECONOMY??Also thanks Jin you a real one twin. Bouta split this cash with my wife and I’ll send you a wedding invite.

EDWARD. ED PLEASE. STOP PUTTING ME IN THE SPOTLIGHT… well it’s out now so woopy!! I really wonder what the others have to say about that cause they just gave really vague surprised reactions. Well, Ritsu documented it. I love that little guy please don’t ever change you silly.

NUMBER ONE CORNELIUS HATER IDC. Unless I know your intentions I DONT CAREEEEE. YOU ARE AN OPP IT IS ON SIGHT WITH YOU. SAME WITH YOU NICOLAS!! “I didn’t know whether to tell you or not I’m sowwy 🥺” CHUPA MI PITO HOE 😡.

… you’re telling me I didn’t have to do that awful speech because DANTE AGREED?? IM DONE. IM WHOOPING EVERYONE IN THE ROOM AND AURING THE PLACE OUT. FIRST ONES OUT ARE HYDE FOR NOT TELLING ME, NICOLAS, AND CORNELIUS. ARGHHHHHHH. Also, dude, who is that Janitor guy like seriously.

ROMEO??? AND HYDE???? WHAT IS THIS ABOUT BUTTERCUP?? Wdym worked for him?? What is going on… SPECIAL MISSION??? SHO??? OH NAW. I CANT TRUST NOBODY ANYMORE 😭

Towa crying :(. What does the fruit shrinking have to do with it now?? I’m so confused.

ALRIGHT IF YOU MADE IT TO THE END WOW YOU HAVE DEDICATION. Yeah this is my personal yap session to this chapter and it’s so URGH. I’m so excited to see the next chapter and I hope we get to see more and more. Now with the Gala in place, we can finally start WORKING. Based on the timeline, we have about … 8 months left?? So hopefully, for MC’s sake, she gets cured. BYE BYE UNTIL NEXT EPISODE!!

[hellishjoel]

Delicate - Chapter Three: I Wish You Would

2.5k / pairing: joel miller x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

summary: After making a bad impression on his first date, Joel nearly gives up - until fate in the form of his daughter Sarah intervenes; Joel and Petal come to a deal.

A/N: truth be told, @thetriumphantpanda and I completely forgot this series existed and got caught up in other projects BUT we're continuing it! because we still love our little baby!

warnings: joel and reader are single parents, rom-com vibes, foul language, Joel being terrible at dating in general, a lil angst

“It’s okay,” she said so reassuringly, looming by the cab as dark clouds began to form over the city. “It takes some time to get used to this again. I was the same.” He didn’t even have the nerve to look her in the eye anymore, brown droopy eyes finding solace in staring at the concrete. “It’ll get easier each time you do it, I promise.” 

His heart felt ripped from his chest, let down by his actions. 

Part of him wonders if he did it on purpose, leaned into ruining the date so he could give Sarah the excuses he’s been making up in his head. That it didn’t work out, that they weren’t a match, that dating just wasn’t his thing, and that he should just be left alone. 

But then he met you. And his heart beat so fast in his chest, he worried it might give him a damn heart attack. 

He’d never seen someone so pretty, with such a bright smile and warm energy that melted the cold exterior shell he had built up over the years. He had no excuses to give, and he didn’t mind. But then nerves took over. 

Joel sighs quietly, staring blankly ahead at his closed garage door. He sits in his parked truck, radio coming in and out of signal as the storm worsens overhead. He flips his wrist and tears the keys from the ignition. 

He’s back home now. Has been for maybe twenty minutes. He just can’t stop thinking about how fucking stupid he felt. Rain pitter-patters on his windshield, and he supposes it’s time to start going inside. Maybe then, Sarah would stop spying on him from the front windows in the living room. 

With a large huff, Joel steps out and makes his way up the porch, rain dotting his disheveled hair and half-decent ensemble. 

Upon pushing the front door open, he sees Sarah run back to the couch with Uncle Tommy just in time. 

“Hey,” she greets casually, fiddling with the remote and pretending to surf for something to watch, “Soooooo,” she coos, “How was your date?” 

Joel watches as Sarah’s face slowly sinks at the sight of him, large rounded-off eyes reading dismissively as he glances from her to Uncle Tommy. 

By now, Tommy is making a worried face, hiding behind a hand over his mouth, panic blaring across his eyes. Sarah’s a smart girl; it doesn’t take her long to look between the two. 

“Oh god, what happened, dad?” She asks with a strained tone, following Joel into the kitchen, where he fishes out a beer and sets his phone absently on the counter along with his keys. He lines the bottle cap to the lip of the counter and pops it open with ease, hearing the bottle hiss with the release of pressure before he takes a long drink. 

Sarah’s glaring eyes slowly turn to her Uncle Tommy. “What did you do?” 

“I-well-no, see, I tried- uh-” Tommy stutters haphazardly. 

“Ain’t Tommy’s fault,” Joel grumbles, the first words he’s spoken in an hour that couldn’t be farther from the truth. There’s a moment of silence as Tommy and Sarah share an empathetic look to Joel. “S’my fault.” 

After some begging and dragging, Sarah manages to get her dad to sit in the living room, the television’s volume set to mute. She rolls Joel’s phone around in her hand, swiping it open and finding the dating app he met his date on. 

Her pictures were beautiful. She was her dad’s type, too. Confident looking, with a sweet smile and a love for adventure. Even with a kid of her own. She understood now why they both found it important to make good first impressions. 

So, what the hell happened? 

“Jus’ tell’er what I said, Joel. I gave ya bad advice.” 

“Horrible advice, Tommy.”

“What advice? I thought this dating operation was a trio effort, and you left the Captain out of a very important dating advice conversation?” Sarah accuses, Tommy shrugs casually beside her on the couch. 

Condensation from Joel’s beer bottle makes a dark ring on the upper thigh of his jeans. He stares long and hard before continuing.  

“I was gettin’ ready for my date, tryin’ to find somethin’ to wear. Tommy helped an’-”

“And?” Sarah pressed, watching Tommy sink further into the couch, hoping to disappear between the cushions.

Joel grumbles quietly and continues, "Told him how nervous I was. Been forever since I had been on a proper date. So he gave me some advice that worked for him.”

“You took advice from your player of a brother? Who can’t find a wife to save his life?”

Tommy playfully scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I could find a wife if I wanted to-”

“Anyway,” Joel butts in, “He said I should try to sound uninterested. Play hard t’get, or whatever. Not ask too many questions. And uh… what did you call it Tommy? A twisted compliment?”

Sarah harshly gasps, turning to her Uncle Tommy as he drops his jaw, looking helpless at Sarah’s genuine anger. 

“You never do that! Ne-ver! Never ever!” She said, starting to swat angrily at his arm and shoulder. 

“Alright, alright, mercy! Mercy!” Tommy looks apologetically at Joel, shaking his head in dismay. “M’sorry, big brother. I thought it would work for you, as it works for me. The type of women I try it on works pretty well.” 

Joel shook his head, eyes drooping again. 

“She wasn’t like other women. She was…” He trails off, unable to articulate how wonderful of a woman he met tonight. And how fucking horribly he screwed it up. 

Joel closes his eyes and puts his palm to his forehead, fingers tugging at his untamed dark waves. 

A frown tugs at the corners of Sarah’s lips, a sinking feeling cascading over her chest. He could try again, find someone else, but now that Sarah has seen her profile and knows how perfect of a match they would be, she knows she has to do something to fix it. 

She casually clears her throat and uses the voice memo option in her dad’s messages. 

“So… what was she like? Your date?” Sarah posed, watching out of the corner of her eye as the recording picked up her question. 

Joel’s had a terrible night, and he’s not sure how much more vulnerability he can spare, especially after how badly he embarrassed himself. 

“Not tonight, Sarah.” He says dismissively. Joel lets out a heavy breath, and for the first time tonight, a little smile tangles on his lips. His eyes lose focus as he relays the moment his eyes set on you.  

“She was… everything. You should’ve seen her, Sarah. She’s got real pretty eyes and a gorgeous smile. When she smiled, it was hard not to smile with her. But she was more than just physically beautiful. She had this energy about her, uplifting and optimistic. Funny, too,” Joel pauses to shake his head, a fond smile on his lips like he was reliving a lost memory. 

His amber eyes slowly begin to droop in disappointment at what he had lost. 

“It felt like seeing a shooting star. She was rare. And I screwed it up. S’my fault.” Joel bites down on his lower lip and tastes the salt of his own wounds. “Just hadn’t had a date in so long. Tried to act cool. I don’t even know what cool is. I don’t know what I was thinkin’. Wish I would’ve just been myself.  Too worried about makin’ a fool of myself that I gave her a bad first impression, y’know? But she was everything. She really was.” 

Joel could hear everyone’s heartbeat, all in sync, all listening. They sat together unmoving, breathing in gentle lulls. No one moved, not even when the room became dark and the gentle rain outside turned into a heavy downpour. 

After Tommy had left for the night with a solemn hug to his older brother and Joel disappeared to sulk in his bedroom, Sarah replayed the sound bite she had captured. 

Her father was being himself, kind and honest. He was a good man, just a bit misled. Sarah wanted his date to know the truth, even if she didn’t give Joel a second chance. She didn’t need some poor woman thinking he was a sleazy jerk. Sure, Uncle Tommy, yeah, but not her father. 

Sarah stares longingly at the woman’s profile once more. This could have been his person, and it breaks her heart to think how remorseful her father was tonight. Like he lost something he should have never let go of. 

Her plan was hatched. This woman would hear how her dad truly speaks of her. The true Joel Miller. She types with ferocity into their existing chat on Hinge. 

Hello, mystery woman. Please don’t give up on him. Believe it or not, my dad deep down is a really shy and sensitive guy. I’m sorry he screwed up. Please know this is what he really thought of you tonight. I know this is a delicate situation, but I thought you should know the man you really went on a date with tonight. -Joel’s favorite daughter, Sarah

You’re not sure how many times you relistened to the Hinge message. 

You’d imagine yourself waking up early and throwing yourself into the endless housework that needs to be done. The laundry piles up, and you should meal-prep for the rest of the week. But you received this message so late last night, long after you had passed out, hoping to forget the terrible first date that you had been on. The last thing you expected was to wake up to another message seemingly from Joel. 

Hearing his deep voice echo his mistakes makes you rethink everything about your date with Joel last night. He sounds sincere, so incredibly nervous behind his seemingly confident bravado. How wrong was your first impression? 

After a bit of pacing and rehearsed dialogue, you get up the nerve to send Joel your number, which he calls not long after. You tell him the truth: that his daughter has sent you a voice note of his apology. 

He seemed quite embarrassed that what he wanted to say was truly heard. 

You reminded yourself that not so long ago, you were making the same mistakes. Dating again was difficult, but you would want Joel to succeed with whomever he finds in the future. Just because things didn’t work out between you and Joel doesn’t mean you couldn’t help him. 

“I think we should have a proper conversation about last night. Would you wanna stop by for a cup of coffee or something?” 

Strangled, deafening silence. “I like coffee,” Joel finally musters up. 

After a short drive in his pickup truck, he’s pulling into your driveway within twenty minutes. You can hear his engine rumbling before turning off on the pavement outside. 

“So, about last night-”

“You don’t-” he starts, but you both pause as the coffee machine stutters. 

Seeing him in daylight evokes the familiar fluttering sensation in your stomach that you first experienced when messaging Joel for the first time. Despite the autumn setting, the dark green flannel he wears shows signs of frequent wear and seems to be a staple in his wardrobe—suitable for any season, any day. It fits his figure, like it’s nearly grown around him. 

You force your eyes to drag their attention away from his broad shoulders and tan skin, clearing your throat and turning on your faucet. It barely trickles, which leaves you huffing. 

Joel takes an interest, rising from where you sat him at the breakfast bar with his empty mug. 

“Low pressure?”  He asks, voice low and honeyed. 

“The plumber came last week and swore it was fixed. It’s fine, I���ll figure it out.”

Joel purses his lips, and before you can stop him, his heavy boots are already backpedaling out of the kitchen. “I’ve got tools in my truck,” he juts his thumb behind him, “wouldn’t take me more than a few minutes.”

“You don’t have to, really, Joel. I don’t want you to work on your day off.”

“S’not a problem. Sit tight.”

He returns with a Milwaukee toolbox, cherry red with a white logo highlighted by lightning strike-looking font. 

You don’t realize you’re still wide-eyed until he looks between you and the lower sink cabinets. 

“Sorry.” You mutter with embarrassment as you move out of the way. He grunts softly as he moves to the linoleum, his knees digging into the tile as he starts moving aside the cleaning supplies stowed below. He squints his eyes, the skin around wrinkling with focus. 

Just start talking about why you asked him here. 

“So—” you start as you pace the kitchen, watching him move onto his back to eye over your sink’s anatomy. “I know our date last night didn’t go as well as we both had hoped and—” your eyes stray to see the hem of his flannel nudge up his front as his hands go to work with a wrench, hearing him mutter something about how he was still listening to you.  But all you can see is the bare skin of his waist, dark hairs stippled down the center of his belly. 

“Right, well, I think what I’m trying to say, or rather failing to say, is that I think I could help you.” The wrench’s clicking comes to a stop. Joel pauses and slowly ducks his head out from the shadows. 

“Help me?” He questions. His tone only inflects slight offense taken. 

“Or- help each other.” You take a moment and kneel on the floor beside where he’s working, watching him sit up on his elbows as his greying eyebrows knit together with curiosity. “It’s hard dating as an adult. Believe me, I know. The apps, and-and the having kids,” your eyes soften as Joel’s gaze falls. “You don’t need me to explain how hard it is. I was horrible at first. There was so much fear surrounding it for me, and I just know that after those voice notes your daughter sent me, you have a lot of potential.”

Joel chuckles dryly before he continues to look up at your sink, slowly loosening a fitting on a pipe. “You think there’s hope?” He says, sarcasm-laced. 

“I’m not going to lie and say it’ll be easy. But love isn’t just for teenagers. We both deserve to experience it again. Maybe it’s not with me, but you’re a real catch, Joel Miller. You’re smart, and you’re handsome,”

Joel chuckles again, but this time it’s more whimsical. The sound is joyful and echoes through around the wooden cabinet he’s working in.  

“So, you’re tryin’ t’offer me datin’ lessons? Is that it?”

You will yourself not to roll your eyes. “Yes, dating lessons. What do you think?”

With a long and forced sigh, Joel ducks out from under the sink and stands to his full, looming height. You scrabble off the floor, taking in how his eyes glimmer like honey in the sunlight. 

He ponders before flipping your tap on, watching the water flow with nothing holding it back. You grin with ease, your eyes flicking to his own.

“Little miss fixer-upper, aren’t ya?” Joel says snidely, taking a moment to offer your proposition. 

A shrug and a sweet smile later have him convinced. 

“Alright. I’m in.”