#I don’t even know if I properly described it here

[trendywaifus]

↳ you know you’re better than this.

featuring — anya x gn! reader (mouthwashing)

no, i don’t write for mouthwashing, there’s just not any anya content.

cw: dark themes, mentions of sexual abuse, abuse, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting, blood, implications of suicide, character deaths, controlling behavior, triggering themes, angst, panic attack, reader is fresh out of medical school, barely hurt and comfort

6 weeks before the crash.

“ guess who~? “

you croon, playfully hovering your hands over the onyx haired woman’s eyes as you snuck up behind her in the med room. anya was standing in front of the sink, quietly washing her hands. a soft giggle rolls off her smiling lips, body language relaxed,

“ hmm, daisuke?”

you snicker, “ i didn’t know i was a silly boy.”

anya hums thoughtfully while the faucet still runs and her hands soaking wet. “ captain? “

“ yes it is i, the big softie blond with curls! “ you proclaimed, goofily deepening your voice to make the voice of the captain, curly. if curly was here, he definitely would of made fun of your half-baked impression of him. anya lets out a bubbly laugh that makes the corner of your lips curl upwards even more. you fight the urge to hug her from behind and squeeze her silly from how wondrous she is. to think you get to be on a space trip with the woman you love and admire deeply makes you wanna float through the endlessly sea of stars and wonder.

“ now that I guessed you right, can i finish washing my hands and greet my lover properly? “ anya asks in a jovial tone.

“ mhmm~ “ you removed your hands away from her eyes and backed off so she can finish washing her hands. it takes a few moments for anya to finish. she turns the faucet off, grabs a paper towel from the dispenser, and wipes her hands off. after throwing the crumbled paper towel in the small bin, she turns around to finally face you. despite her hues resembling a gloomy grey, they brighten as they drink you in. anya immediately seeks for you, wrapping her arms around your frame and gently brushes up against you. you gladly reciprocate the loving gesture, running a delicate up her back and let it rest on her upper back.

“ so, how’s evaluations going three months in? “ you asked, pressing a quick kiss to her brow, “ has the others evaluations been okay? no crazy confessions yet right? “ you inquired with a teasing voice. anya is far experienced in psychology than you are so you leave the evaluations to her. and because anya’s more outgoing and hands-on, you felt like anya’s more capable of taking on medic role. you were luckily squeezed on this ship as a last minute intern similar to daisuke for the experience. six people on a four-man ship is so far quite the experience. you try not to get in the way of the others and besides anya, you mostly interact with curly and daisuke.

anya pauses, recalling her memories from the monthly evaluations.

“ hm. .—oh! daisuke. .a very bright and funny boy that really puts himself out there. he inspires me to be more optimistic. ugh, he’s also disgustingly lucky when it comes to those board games we play. “ her lips ball up in a cute pout, you laugh, “

“ stop saying he’s lucky, anya. you’re just being a sore loser. just accept that he’s better than you at board games! “

anya playfully rolls her eyes, “ oh hush. don’t tell me you’re on his side. “

you smirked, “ i’m on your side, beautiful—buttt i’m still gonna hand you the truth. lovingly. “

anya tells you about the other three evaluations, curly, swansea, and jimmy. her voice is light-hearted when she talks about curly. she describes him as being kind but a bit reserved. he never talks much about himself. everyone has their own story and perhaps even some like him chooses to not tell his as it’s locked away behind the fleshy walls of his bleeding heart. when anya got to swansea, her tone is the same but it’s dampens a bit; melancholic. she describes the crude mechanic as a man who’s been through a lot in life and still lives on despite his struggles. despite how rough he acts, there’s something about him that makes you feel sorry for him. there’s a sort of loneliness that clings to him like the fresh scent of dry balls after drying your clothes in a dryer. however, you can tell that daisuke’s light is smearing onto the much older man’s demeanor. he’s a little more livelier, although very rough on the edges—swansea expresses his care for daisuke in a tough love kinda way.

when anya finally gets to the gruff brunette man, the atmosphere shifts. her words holds a certain weight to them that makes you feel slightly uncomfortable. her voice is meek and reluctant as she talks about his recent evaluation. you pick up on anya’s careful wording and brief pauses during it. she rests her cheek against your shoulder, holding you visibly tighter as if she’s trying to ground herself through you. anya says that he doesn’t really take his evaluation seriously and makes particularly sarcastic comments at her. great. you don’t like jimmy because there’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. was it that permanent mean look on his face? that judgmental look in his hooded, brown eyes whenever he passes by you in the hallways? what could have you possibly done to him to make him look at you like that? you don’t really talk to him and care more for curly. he is the leader and main pilot after all.

“ . .if he’s making you uncomfortable, i can do his evaluations for you. psychological evaluations require a one on one session and i can do it while you’re outside of the door.” you mutter, rubbing loose circles into anya’s back.

your lover stays silent for a moment. “ . . .no, i can handle it. but, you standing behind the door instead puts me a little more at ease though, haha. “

“ of course. anya, look at me. “ and she does, pulling her head away to peer at you with those pretty, upturned eyes of hers. a tender palm cups her cheek. anya’s skin feels warm and soft to the touch. “ if anything happens, you’ll tell me right? i may only be the intern but i will absolutely raise hell for you. “

anya smiles at you warmly at you, grayish eyes twinkling with endearment. she leans in and kisses your lips. “ i prefer that you not to because i’d hate for you to get booted into space by the crew. “ she remarks jokingly in between brief kisses.

“ hmm. “ you bring your lips to the bridge of her nose, under the tender flesh of her eye, everywhere until she’s a smiling mess. “ we’ll have to see about that. “

5 weeks before the crash.

restless, you exhale as you blankly stare at the white ceiling. due to anya’s head laying on your chest and her body nuzzled against your side, you can hardly change positions or get up, really. you don’t want to wake her up either.

“ can’t sleep? “ she whispers out gently, her hand that was intertwined with yours, lightly squeezed.

“ mmm, not really. did i wake you up with my defeated sighs, anya? “

“ . . kinda. but i’m use to this by now since this is a habit you like to do when you can’t sleep, (name).”you can hear the fond smile in her voice. after two years of dating, anya’s able to read and soak up your habits. she’s so attentive to your mannerisms, knows when you’re apprehensive by the twitching of your fingers and eyes. she knows when you’re happy, sad—it’s quite ridiculous how could someone so knowledgeable like her is struggling to get accepted to med school several times while it only took you once to get in. you’re not a registered nurse prior to getting into med school or anything like that. yes, you worked really hard—but lets admit it; you were just simply lucky to get in. lucky and currently hundred thousand dollars in debt after finishing.

“ i’ll let you sleep. i think i will just sneak into med bay to finish reading the social animal. i wanna be good at psychology as my awesome, future wife is.” you asked, pressing a chaste kiss on her temple.

anya laughs sleepily, “ oh, stop it. you’re not going to fall asleep in there, are you? “

“ of course not! i’ll come back to you once i’m feeling tired. but, if you miss me or have a nightmare, you know where to find me~ “

she removes her head off your chest and breaks away from you with a soft pout. “ i suppose so. “

you get up from the bed and dipped down to kiss the tip of her pretty roman nose. “ buh bye for now, beautiful. ” you coo, adjusting the blanket back over her body.

“ see you, hun. “

you slip on your slippers and walked out of your shared cabin. besides the sound of the low humming noise of the ship, silence fills the void of the still atmosphere. it’s surprisingly chilly as you exit the sleeping quarters and walk through the narrow-like hallways to medical. your footsteps softly bounces throughout the metal walls and your distorted shadow follows behinds you. there’s a churning feeling in your gut as you walk and walk. was it really okay to skip off to medical at the middle of “night” just to read? wouldn’t it have suffice to simply stay and talk to anya until you were able to fall asleep?

your eye twitch and your fingers curl ever so slightly.

should you just go back to her?

“ hey, you’re still “up.”

a rough voice calls out, ripping you away from your thoughts. you stop walking. your eyes wander over to the source and a shiver runs down your spine. jimmy, still in his jumpsuit, stands by the hallway leading to the cockpit. there’s a sense of uneasiness in the air as his quiet gaze lingers on you, waiting for your response.

“ yeah, can’t sleep. “ you say in a deadpan voice, “ what about you? “

jimmy runs his fingers through his tousled chocolate locks before shrugging. “ same as you. but i’m just taking a aimless stroll. where you headin’ to? “

none of your business.

“ medical. “

there’s something in his eyes that visibly changes; a taunting glint that has you side-eyeing him. a corner of his thin lips curl into a subtle, smug smirk.

“ you’re a little ways to go, dr. intern. “

you roll your eyes and start walking pass him, “ i know. at least i know where to go, mr. co pilot. “

jimmy clicks his tongue behind you, muttering something under his breath before his footsteps become distant in your ears. you turn your head, throwing a quick glance over your shoulder. you see his tall silhouette walking down the direction towards the sleeping quarters. “ smug fuck, i hope you sleep like shit tonight. “ you murmur, trying your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your tummy.

with a tired sigh, you slumped in the chair, turning one of many pages you gone through. the ticking clock in the background occasionally hits your ears as your fingers lazily drum against the pristine white surface of the desk. your droopy (e/c) eyes skim across a quote that leaves the remainder of your conscious mind wondering.

reason and emotion are not separate and opposed. reason is nestled upon emotion and dependent upon it. emotion assigns value to things, and reason can only make choices on the basis of those valuations. the human mind can be pragmatic because deep down it is romantic.

“is it wrong to use only reasoning to make a decision devoid of emotion . .? or is it actually wrong to let your emotions influence your decisions and reasoning? ” you sleepily muse to yourself.

oh, being human is so complicated.

your head perk up at the medbay door sliding open. surprise is written all over your face once you see a seemingly shaken up anya walking inside. her arms are tucked to her chest, hands clutching her elbows.“ anya? it’s only been. .two hours? you had a nightmare already? “ you asked worriedly, standing up from the desk to make your way over to her.

“ i. .y-yes, it was t-terrible. .” anya whispers in a quivering voice. her head is down, avoiding eye contact. you try to grasp her elbow and lure her into your arms but she violently flinches from your touch.

pulling away quickly, your face contorts into a look of worry. “ baby? “

teary-eyed, anya quickly lifts up her head, mustering a shaky smile. “ oh dear, i-i’m sorry. i-i’m just still quite shaken up from the nightmare, h-haha. i need a minute or so to recoup myself. can i stay here with you? “ anya sometimes get nightmares but it was only due to stress. she never had a nightmare that got her like this.

“ . .of course. you don’t even have to ask. here, you can sit on one of those beds. “ carefully, you ghost your hand over the small of her back as you guide her to a bed. she quietly sits down with a soft sniffle and you follow suit. your heart squeezes at the sound of her soft hiccups and the sight of her head down. you can hardly see her face due to her saber strands hanging down. “ can. .is it safe for me to have my arm around you? “

she meekly bobs her head and you delicately curl an arm around her, taking note of her body momentarily stiffening up before gradually relaxing. “ do you want to talk about your nightmare? “

it takes her a moment to reply. “ . . no. i don’t really remember much of it now anyways. “

you frown, leaving it at that despite wanting to push for more. anya always remember her nightmares. there’s something that’s eating away at your gut and it’s making you anxious. you gnaw at your lip and your eyes twitch. you should be focusing on her. whatever you’re feeling right now is the result of your overthinking. you should trust her. it was just a rare, horrible nightmare that gotten her like this.

things can happen unexpectedly without an explanation.

perhaps you shouldn’t push for an answer and leave it alone?

1 week before the crash.

“ hah! i win! in your face! “ daisuke laughs in triumphant, placing his pink piece over on the next move that solidifies his victory. anya groans loudly next to you, crossing her arms and pouts like a kid who gotten their toy taken away. “ this is unbelievable! i almost had it! “

you laughed, “ better luck next time, anya. it seems like the kid has a brighter future than you when it comes to board games! “

ever since that night, anya’s been uncharacteristically a little distant and jumpy. she’d always seek for your touch. but now, she seems reluctant to touch you first. whenever you try to show anya any kind of affection, it takes her a moment to reciprocate. you can’t really surprise her now or she’ll get visibly startled. anya has trouble sleeping and wakes up from the any sound or movement so you have to be still. for the past four weeks, you tried to ask her about her abnormal behavior, and she’d tell you vague reasons like, “ i just haven’t been feeling well. “ or “ that nightmare got to me more than i thought, i’m sorry. “

you’re worried about her—even her smiles are dampened with a sliver of sadness behind them. you really want to help but you don’t know how. it feels like she’s slowly putting a wall between you, her, and her true feelings. at least right now she’s like her old self again. you’re glad.

“ hey guys. having fun in here, huh? “ curly and jimmy walks inside the lounge. the blond waves at the three of you with a welcoming smile while jimmy awkwardly stood behind him.

“ yeah! i was able to beat anya this time! isn’t that right, anya? “

“ mhm, but as usual, it was luck. “ anya says softly, her voice lacking the enthusiasm as it did before. she tucks her arms into her chest. you flash her a look of concern. there it is again, the churning feeling in your belly. why did her mood sour like that? was it because of curly and jimmy’s arrival? your eyes travel back to the two men, quietly observing them. curly ruffles daisuke’s hair as he stood behind the couch daisuke is sitting on. he’s completely focused on talking to daisuke. your gaze transition over to jimmy and his eyes meet with yours.

that same glint he had in his eyes a few weeks ago, has you feeling more than uneasy. then, your mind suddenly flashes back to the subtle smirk he had and him walking back to the direction of the sleeping quarters. not too long after him going over there and you lounging in medbay, anya joins you, trembling and barely wanting you to touch her. you thought about her saying it was a bad nightmare and didn’t remember enough to tell you the details of it. like what you thought about before, anya always remembers her nightmares and only gets them due to stress.

the horrible realization starts to sink in and your heart drops to the very pits of your stomach. it drowns in a sea of dread.

oh god, did he go to her while you were. . .?

you feel sick. why did you ignore that gut feeling in your stomach during your walk to medbay back then? why didn’t you stay with anya? why did you just figure this out now?

you stand up unexpectedly, startling everyone.

“ (name)? what’s the matter? “ anya asks with clear worry. throat dry, you gathered up the strength to cast her a assuring smile that doesn’t reach your eyes in which she notices right away.

“ i. .i need to go to the restroom. i’ll be back everyone. . “

you quickly slide the bathroom door behind you. unable to hold your own weight anymore, you fall to your knees. there’s a suffocating feeling in your chest that’s causing your breathing to become uneven. your mind races back to the evaluations and how uncomfortable anya looked every time she had to do jimmy’s. yes, you stood behind the door to provide her some “security” in the recent weekly evaluations, but god, you actually let her be in the same room alone with this man? her assaulter? you did basically nothing but blindly trusted her words and ignored your intuition.

maybe anya didn’t want to tell you because she knew that you’d make a big uproar out of it, thus making the situation possibly even worse?

or maybe she was afraid you’d look at her differently?

. . .or maybe jim threatened her to not tell the crew?

t r u s t

she kept this in all this time and gave these inconsistent reasons that you knew was out of character for her to make up. . and yet. .you ignored the obvious signals and trusted her anyway. all you had to do was listen to your gut feeling and sit down with her to talk. all you had to say was that you were there for her and you’ll listen to anything she has to say if she wants to talk. you’d do anything for her—anything. even if it meant the cost of your internship which matters practically nothing to you. it’s not like the company was worth shit anyways. what fucking company doesn’t implement locks on doors in rooms where their own employees sleep in? what company just allows someone like him in?

tears bubble in your eyes as you grit your teeth, seething in frustration. you bite down on your bottom until the thin layer skin easily rips and starts to bleed. you bawl your hands into tight fists, nails dig into your palm until moon crescents dig into the flesh. you’re so horrible.

you feel so sick.

this is what she must of felt but much much worse.

you can’t even imagine how she had to process what happened all alone in the dark and walk through the long corridors in dead silence just to get to medbay, to you. you can’t imagine how it feels to hide something so traumatic from everyone while gathering up your broken shards of identity in silence. you don’t blame her—you can never blame her from hiding what happened between her and jimmy. you can only blame yourself for being ignorant and not fully realizing how dangerous he truly is.

your stomach turns upside down and you feel the sudden need to vomit. you scrambled over to the toilet and puke your guts out. series of fat tears roll down your cheeks.

“ ugh. .” you coughed hoarsely, hunched over.

you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick. you feel sick—

a few firm knocks on the bathroom door made you freeze.

anya’s concerned voice calls out behind the bathroom door. “ (name), are you alright? are you feeling well? “

you couldn’t even respond properly without hacking which gave yourself away immediately. alerted by your excessive coughing, she successfully slides the door open and rushes inside to your aid.

you never locked the door behind you, did you?

“ i’m here, (name). please, let it all out. “ anya rubs your back soothingly, not bothered by the drool and vomit spilling from your lips. you feel embarrassed under the worried, gentle gaze of anya. she whispers comforting words as you finishing vomiting. she grabs some paper towels and silently offers to wipe your face. you shake your head and gingerly take the towels from her hands and do it yourself.

anya opens her mouth to speak but you interrupt her.

“ it’s funny, “ you half laughed and sobbed, “ how you were able to come in so quickly just as i realized the door wasn’t locked. “

anya’s eyes widen with shock and looks as if she was about to burst into tears.

1 month after the crash.

“ anya, sweetheart? “ you gently call out to her before resting a hand on anya’s shoulder as stood by the sink, soaking curly’s bandages with soap and water. the fresh bandages are slowly starting to run out because of curly’s nonstop bleeding. you and anya both agreed to clean and reuse the bandages after one use to maintain the supply.

she still slightly jumps and turns her head around with a soft smile. “a-ah! s-sorry, (name). what’s wrong? “

“ let me clean the bandages and give captain his meds. you’ve been standing there for the past forty minutes. sit out in the lounge, okay? after watching you the first few times, i know what to do. “

a look of uncertainty dwells on her face as she ponders over your words. gingerly, you place a hand over her stomach. “ please, anya? i’ve seen how uncomfortable you look when you do this for him, you don’t have to hide it from me because i’m your lover. we’ve talked about this. i’ll do anything i can to shoulder your burden and make sure that you’re not pushing your body. “

anya’s grey hues flicker with appreciation and a twinge of guilt. “ okay, i’ll go sit down. if you need me, please holler out. i-i hate to make you do this after—“

“ anya. “ you interrupt her, reaching out to cradle her pale cheeks. they feel warm under your palms. your gaze pools into her own. “ anything. “ you whisper, resting your forehead against hers. anya’s lips pursue in a thin line. you know she wants to object but she swallows her words without anything to wash it down with, leaving behind a bitter taste. you lift your chin to press a lingering kiss to anya’s forehead.

tentatively, anya walks out of the medical, leaving you and a shell of a man in the room alone. a deep sigh runs past your lips and you go over to the half–foamed up desk to quietly grab a bottle of pain meds. “ captain. “ you mutter, walking over to the bed where he permanently lays. what a pitiful sight to witness. curly resembles a meat bag, his limbs left horribly mutated and amputated, his once tan skin is now all gone and long burned off. he’s stripped from his protection and only his vulnerable muscles are exposed. his only eye, wide and blue, stares up at you. you stare back blankly. through a singular sea of blue, you see a mass of fear, pain, and most of all, regret.

“ i don’t hate you, captain, “ you pop the bottle open. “ i’m sure anya doesn’t either. well, anya wouldn’t bring herself to hate you even if she wanted to anyways. “

he doesn’t respond but his permanent wide–eyed gaze continues to stare you down.

“ i’ll give you 5mg of oxycodone before i do your bandages. i’ll give you your second dose afterwards.”

you shake out two pills from the bottle. “ . . .all of this isn’t really your fault. misguided karma can be cruel. however, “ you slowly opened his jaw, the slimy sound of his muscles moving against each other makes you cringe. you see why anya can get more nauseated off of this. “ misplaced trust in a bitter person who’s undeserving of trust in the first place is what gets someone like you in a position like this. “

you hold his jaw, his exposed, irritated muscles twitch erratically against your protective layer of skin. your stomach swirls with a sinking feeling. curly starts to breath heavily, his pupil dilates. you hold one pill between your index finger and thumb. hot tears prickle at the corner of your twitching eyes as a shaky grin stretches across your face, and a bead of sweat rolls down your brow. you feel sick to the utter depths of your stomach.

“ don’t struggle , yeah? “

this wasn’t your worst moment right , curly?

0 days before the crash.

“ curly, fuck, where did he walk away to? “ you stopped curly in the middle corridors, pulling him back by his broad shoulder with a firm hand. curly, who’s face is full of panic and confusion, frantically responds back. “ i-i don’t know but i’m going to go find him to try and talk—“

“ i-i’m sorry, talk? this goes beyond talking at this fucking point! that fucking dog assaulted anya and she’s pregnant! “ you spat, heart full of frustration, “ do you think talking to her assaulter is going to fix shit? do you think doing the bare minimum is going to take back what she went through?! “

he runs a trembling hand through his blond curls. “ i-i understand but—fuck, let me just try—and—and, “

your hand drops to your side and you send him a look of utter disappointment. “ un—fucking—believable. how many times did anya tell you about jimmy? did you know about his shitty behavior even before she got pregnant? assaulted? she doesn’t want to tell me the answer so i’m fucking asking you! “

he stays slient, the guilty expression dawning on his face says it all.

“ . .what a great leader you are, captain. “ you growled, “ allowing that shitty friend of yours to ride this ship and you do barely nothing until the situation blows up in your face. this is what happens when you let your personal emotions dilute your judgment and reason as a leader. this is the outcome. the crew is my responsibility, my ass. if i had it my way, i would of shoved his ass in the cryo pod the second i’ve found out. but alas, i’m not the fucking leader but a damn intern. i held it allll in for a week for this shit? just imagine how anya felt to endure the awful trauma longer than that only for you, the captain, the only person with power, to handle it so horribly. fool.”you turn your heels and stomping back to medical for anya.

4 months after the crash.

“ daisuke. . kiddo, “ you gently call out to him as you find him somberly laying on his back next to the area leading to the cargo. his forearm rests over his eyes.

“ you okay? “

“ no, not really. .it’s just. .i wonder what my mother thinks right now. .she’s probably thinking i’m finally putting my feet into the water, finally learning and figuring out what i should to do in life during this internship. .meanwhile i’m on my back getting wasted off of. .mouthwash. ”

you sit down next to him. you thought about what to say for a prolonged moment before asking him,

“ before all of this, did you enjoy the internship? “

“ i. . .i did. .i was having fun . .with swansea, anya, you, a-and . . “

daisuke lets out a soft sniffle, you just smile solemnly.

“ don’t cry, sunshine. as long as you enjoyed yourself, that’s all that matters. even in the predicament we’re in now. .let’s have hope. once all of this is over, your mother will be proud that you got through this internship and you should tell her allll about what you did and learned with the ol’ man swansea. that man is a hot mess but i know he enjoys you as his intern.”

“ . . .really? “ he meekly asks, peeking at you from under his forearm with teary eyes. god, daisuke looks like a sad puppy.

“ of course, kiddo. “ you force out a happy laugh to appease him. you hate to lie to him but as long as jimmy is attempting to play captain, the situation will continue to spiral down into the abyss. you know with absolute certainty that jimmy was the one who caused the ship to crash. the fact that man pinned the blame on his close friend, who was trying to see good in him, for crashing the ship is beyond disgusting. judging from curly’s recent evaluation from anya before the crash, he did seem a little melancholic. but, for him to drastically make a reckless decision to sabotage the ship and everyone in it? he wouldn’t do that even if it was on his mind. jimmy on the other hand. .

“ oh. .it seems like you beat me to him. is he alright?”anya’s relieved voice rings in your ears. you draw your attention over to your partner who’s walking down the corridor towards you and daisuke. she uncrosses her arms that was once tucked to her chest and you raise a brow.

“ yeah, just a little sad but i was talking to him. how’d you know he was here? “

her gaze averts to the ground and you jump up, anger bubbles in your chest. “ jimmy, wasn’t it? what did he do? he didn’t hurt or yell at you or anything, did he? “

you pace over to her and rest your hands on her shoulders. “ no, no—seriously, i’m okay. . he sent me here to check on daisuke while he took care of some things. i was just surprised you were here. “ it had to be more then that.

sighing heavily, you turn back to daisuke who was now attempting to get back on his feet. “ daisuke, be careful. .has swansea been making you drink that mouthwash stuff again with him? “ you questioned skeptically, walking over to him to assist him back on his feet. wobbling, the brunette boy softly groans as you let him rest his arm loosely around your shoulders for support.

“. .no. .yeah. . i. .may. .kinda, totally have went overboard with it this time. b-but i gave it to jimmy because i didn’t wanna mess with it anymore. “

aggravated, you smack your teeth, “ so you’re saying that he saw you like that and didn’t even bother to help you up himself and sends anya down here instead? i’m so sick of his shit! some fuckin’ wannabe captain he is! you could of threw up and choked on your own damn vomit! that careless fucker knew that! “

“ you’re starting to sound like swansea. “ daisuke mutters through his drunken haze.

anya speaks up in a soft voice that’s mean to calm you. “ (name), you have to calm down. i understand that you’re upset. .but we need to rest daisuke down somewhere in the lounge. “

your eye twitch and your lips purse. she was right. plus, you don’t want daisuke to hear all of this while he’s struggling with his own inner conflicts. even the effects of the dire situation is dawning down on him and taking a toll on his mental health.

but fuck, you’re tired of being quiet.

d o s o m e t h i n g

? ? ¿ ! months before the ????

you can’t sleep. a soft sigh leaves your lips. anya’s body lightly stirs besides you. you don’t want to leave her but it’d be right to check up on curly to see if he needs his meds. there’s no time clock but curly’s groaning and restlessness indicates you that it’s time for his painkillers. if he is in pain, you’ll just give him his meds and come back to anya. it’s been a straight shot to the medical room ever since the crash. the foam has completely fucked up the sleeping quarters. . maybe it’s for the better or worse now. everyone is bunched together in the lounge room with extra sleeping beds from the medical. luckily, there hasn’t been any problems amongst the crew and it’s easier to keep in eye on jimmy.

“ anya, “ you whispered out to her. she lays on her left side, facing you. pieces of her shaggy hair prettily hovers over her tired eyes as they fluttered open. “ yeah? “ she responds back, you send her a small smile, reaching out to brush the strands away from her face.

“ i’m going to go check up on captain in the medical. i’ll. .be back, okay? if this dumb thing goes off, “ you gesture to the broken robot standing an inch away from you and anya’s sleeping bags. thankfully it’s able to go off, albeit broken thanks to jimmy. originally, anya suggested the idea and you couldn’t agree more with it.

“ i’ll be running to you so fast like how i did after i found out that passed my final exams. “ you whispered playfully.

recalling the joyful memory, a soft giggle leaves anya’s lips. she remembered you were so anxious and restless over the final exams that she kept having to pinch you and make you run with her to get your mind off of things. once you found out that you passed med school, you ran so fast to anya while she was waiting outside of the campus for you and nearly ran her over. she nods with a beautiful smile that you missed so much. anya was always a carefree woman who was willing to go through hardships with a cool–mind and solutions. but, after this overhaul trip going downhill and the terrible shit that’s happened and is currently happening—the light in her eyes is duller. it mirrors her reserved and almost timid-like behavior now.

that’s not who anya is—that’s not her and that’s not who she should by the damages of a terrible, insecure man who refuses to swallow down his own ever-growing problems like a hard pill and take responsibility for his self-sabotaging actions. you bet he’d choke on himself and self-destruct if he ever tried swallowing. all he ever does is vomit and project himself onto others.

“ okay. we can also clean his bandages after we’ve rested. “ anya suggests.

you shake your head, ghosting a hand over her belly. the bump has slowly been getting bigger but isn’t very noticeable to others. “ there’s no we, just me. the last time you got nauseated, you asked jimmy to give curly his meds while i was busy with daisuke and. .he. .” you trailed off and sighed with frustration. you still can’t get over anya telling you the truth about jimmy getting frustrated at her for asking him to give curly his meds because of her nausea.

absolutely horrible.

before anya can say anything, you give her a quick kiss on the forehead.

“ i’ll be back this time. “

you got up carefully to not alert the broken robot and paced towards medical. as you did, you glanced around the lounge to see who’s in their respective sleeping bags.

daisuke is laid out asleep.

swansea has been sleeping by the utility and now you know why he was does. you don’t have any objections to it. it’s only fair for the sunshine to be preserved.

jimmy is no where to be found. cockpit, maybe?

as you near the medical, alarming sounds of struggling and curly’s groans made your heart drop. frantically, you sprinted towards the door and slammed it open.

s e c o n d c h a n c e

s e c o n d c h a n c e

“ wh-what the fuck are you doing, jimmy?! g-get off of him! “ her

you ran over to the self-proclaimed captain who was hunching over the defenseless curly, shoving pills into his mouth and down his throat while beating at his stomach. with all of your strength, you shoved jimmy backwards, pulling him away from curly’s mutilated body, who helplessly laid there in the bloodied medical bed, crying and groaning in pain.

“ are you out of your fucking mind, you crazy fuck?!”you screamed at him while he has this mixed, horrid look of panic and frustration on his unshaven face. the pill bottle clutched in his hand made a loud rattling noise as he drops them on the tile floor and it rolls next to you.

“ i-i— h-he was. .m-making too much n-n—oomph! “

thanks to your adrenaline, you shoved him—hard, causing him to stumble back against the desk. pill bottles tumble and crash onto the floor.

hurried footsteps approach the medical from the loud crashes and yelling.

“ so your fucking solution was to beat up that poor man who can’t even goddamn defend himself now? let me fucking remind you since you’re too busy trying to play captain and can’t take responsibility! that man is laying there, the way he is now, because of—ugh! “

in a burst fit of blind rage, he returns the favor and presses his heavy palms against your chest, harshly shoving you backwards. you try to maintain your balance, but your foot accidentally steps on one of the pill bottles, and you fall backwards onto the solid floor, hitting your head. hard.

crack!

you almost instantly black out. not before hearing a loud gasp and anya’s frantic shouting.

“ (name)! j-jimmy. . . at . .did. . .u do?! “

¿!!! ?????????

just me and you vs the world, anya.

“ seriously? this show is so horrible, anya! even my dad who has terrible taste in tv shows, can’t watch this! “ you groaned exaggeratedly, sinking your cheek into your palm, slouching on the elbow of the couch. anya shrugs with a smug smile, placing the tv remote down on the coffee table.

“ well that’s tooo bad, hun. i need to binge this show to clear my mind out completely. all i need is my go-to-combo i usually get from wendy’s. “

you roll your eyes, “ it could of been at least mcdonald’s or something. but. .wendy’s? “

“ they have the best frosties! don’t act you dislike it because they messed up your order once. “ she giggles, leaning over to playfully hit at your ankle.

the show starts and you can barely stomach it. you don’t understand how she zeros out her mind from watching this stuff. it’s so cheesy and bad.

you peer over at anya and just as expected, she’s watching it like she’s into it. anya’s sitting up against the couch, legs crossed while she’s wearing a oversized t-shirt and pajamas. her heap of black shaggy hair that reaches just below her shoulders, was beautifully messy. usually at night, she doesn’t really bother with it. her fair skin shines pretty under the tv light. her pretty lashes fluttering and downturned eyes glistening with interest as she watch the corny reality tv show—god, she’s so breathtaking.

“ so, anya. “ you speak up as soon as the tv cuts to commercials. her undivided attention draws over to you and you cast her a goofy, suggestive smile.

“ while this commercial runs, wanna makeout? “

she blinks at you several times as if to process your question and bursts out laughing.

“ ewwww! “

“ ewwww? what the hell, baby! c’meree. “ you get off the elbow of the couch to playfully grab and pull at the laughing anya’s arm to pull her closer.

“ we’re not some bored teenager couple, you know! “

you successfully pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her body. “ feels like we are when i’m with youu~ “ you coo, puckering your lips at her with teasing intent.

anya blocks your lips with her palm and you immediately lick at it. she gasps and retracts her hand away, allowing you the opportunity to topple her over and kiss all over her pretty face and pouty lips.

“ hehe, (name)! “

once you’re done with your barrage, you bury your face into her neck.

“ marry me once me and you become doctors, anya~ ” you croon, melting into her body.

there’s a momentary pause before her smiling voice responds to you, full of adoration,

“ of course. i wouldn’t have it any other way, (name).”

??? ??¿ is it finally over ??¿!

your eyes peel open, a surge of sharp pain and confusion shoots through your body like a needle. but, once your gaze immediately locks onto the woman you love above you, your heart calms a little. she doesn’t notice that you’re now awake and stares off into somewhere with brooding eyes.

“ a-anya? “

anya’s eyes widen and she snaps her gaze down at you in surprise as your head is currently laid on her lap. tears swell in the corner of her reddened eyes.

“ y-you’re awake again! i-i thought you were finally. .”

despite not being able to move your body from the waist under and through the pain pounding in your head, you smile weakly at her.

“ f-finally what? i-i told you i’ll come back to you. although. . .“ your eyes search the dim setting around you. it’s blurred and bright. it seems like you and anya are in the medical? didn’t you come back from medical after checking up on curly?

c o n f u s i o n

“ why aren’t we in bed? we’re in medical right now. . “

anya’s lips trembles as she struggles to not cry.

“ we’ve decided to rest in here and talk like we’re a bored teenage couple. “

you let out a weak laugh. “ r-really? my br-brain is all over the place right now. everything is starting to feel and look fuzzy. “

your eyes starts to dilate and unfocus but they never leave anya. she says nothing, and quietly caresses your cheek.

your skin has become more discolored while you were unconscious.

how many hours?

how many hours has it been since she locked herself with you and captain? and how many times has her thoughts endlessly ponder and ponder over jimmy’s words he once said to her months back?

t a k e c a r e o f i t

“ a-anya. .? “

anya forces out a smile. her quivering fingers brush away the sweaty hair sticking to your forehead.

my hands are s h a k i n g.

“ . .y-yes? “ anya can barely contain the heartbreak in her voice.

“ w-we’ll take of it together. “ you slurred, “ o-once i get my l-license, i’ll support us and you don’t need to w-worry about a thing. o-once the baby is born, i’ll take care of them while you st-study to get into medical school again. i-i’ll. .even help you. .too. i st-still have my. .notes. “

dark red liquid seeps down your nose. she sees the light becoming dull in your dilated (e/c) hues that she adored so much.

the external bleeding and swelling in your head is pulling you under.

a quiet sob slips from her throat and she gently brings your head up to her chest. her body shudders as she weeps.

there’s a few broken whimpers that sounds far too strangled to be hers or yours.

“ . . d-don’t cry, an. .ya, i. .i’m just g-gonna sleep. y. .you holding. .me like this. .makes me feel at ease. .i. .can finally sleep. .without. .leaving. .ou. .”

your eyes vanish behind discolored eyelids and your head slack against her.

and there’s a gaping hole akin to a black hole that swallows everything that bounded her down, her dreams, her hopes, her love, her fear, her emotions.

what’s left is reason—a reason to the best decision that anya alone can finally act.

with a strangely calm mind and red-rimmed solemn grey eyes, she glances up at the few bottles of pills now left on the desk.

you know you’re better than this.

m a k e n o m i s t a k e , t h i s i s n ‘ t m y w o r s t m o m e n t.

far from it. this is the best decision i’ll ever make.

i’ll take care of it.

everything’s black—but you hear banging, voices, bottles rattling, pained whimpering and strangled noises that sounds similar to a heartbroken man crying.

you slip back into momentary consciousness. through blurred vision, you see a slumped figure above you. you can’t identify who it is but red smears leaves a bit of a hard contrast to your unfocused eyes. without thinking, your feeble hand reach out and you’re only able to make contact with their chin, just with the tips of your fingers.

from one small touch, you can tell the skin long since lost its warmth and now is cold to the touch.

an unknown sorrow strikes your chest and you finally pass with a heart full of confusion, leaving it in a headlock.

[thequasarwinds]

YES I SAW THIS AND HAD TO SPEW MY THOUGHTS- I also feel this applies to Eury as well! I absolutely DESPISE how this fandom either has to blame him or Odysseus. When it’s not that black and white

To address what you said here- I think it’s a matter of different definitions! As I use sweetheart to typically describe someone who’s well- very sweet! Not soft. Odysseus is a character that knows how to do what it takes to survive (his entire arc was kind of learning that). He’s not overly soft or mushy. A Sweetheart to me is someone who would give their ENTIRE world to their loved ones. Someone who doesn’t stop giving. Someone who’s just very loving and/or caring. At least to put it as simply as I can (Sarah Heathcliff and Thatcher Davis from TMC are also both characters I’d describe as “sweethearts” but they certainly aren’t soft characters especially Sarah)

I don’t want to get into a deep dive on Odysseus- dissecting the lyrics and his character (though I definitely can- I just don’t have the time to right now).

but Odysseus is an inherently selfless and sacrificial character. As well as someone who always tried to do what was best for everyone. He was just continually cornered again and again. Forced to make a choice between bad and worse. that’s why you see me describe Odysseus (AND THIS APPLIES TO EURY AS WELL) as barely having any actual control/agency/choice throughout his odyssey

of course a cornered cat is going to swat. You cornered it! And of course that cat’s going to start biting if you go ahead and declaw it as well.

honestly Odysseus isn’t even a character I’d say I have the most experience in with analysis (that’s be my twin @seasonalmoss they’re the main Odysseus person when it comes to analyzing him and properly portraying him in our AUs) but he is a character I am VERY passionate about people getting right. (In EPIC specifically- always remember Epic is different from the odyssey)

Hit reblog if you see that Odysseus has acted as a monster, been seen as a monster, thinks of himself as a monster, but has never actually truly been a monster.

[sparrow-bear]

Okay so here’s the thing that gets me about Good Omens (s2 in particular):

Earth and humanity are (as far as we know) meant to exist so that heaven and hell have a playing field to best one another, initially by seeing who can exert their influence on humans most and ultimately as a battleground for their war. Humans themselves are kinda inconsequential.

But! Anyone from either side who comes to earth with even a *skerrick* of curiosity immediately starts to fall for the emergent properties of humanity- the music, the food, the art, the shades of grey that simply do not exist in heaven or hell. We see this in Aziraphale and Crowley who have found ways to keep their positions on earth for 6000 years yes, but we see it even more in Beelzebub and Gabriel, who have been to earth many times but only started to *see* it for the first time together, and in Muriel who we are told has never been to Earth before and is overcome with excitement seemingly within seconds of arriving.

There is something so deliciously pure and healing about this story that centres not just love between individuals being the most powerful thing in the universe, but also the simple love of *being alive*. It’s so potent that celestial/demonic powers succumb to the joy of living the *moment* they open themselves up to it. To see these timeless entities stumbling together through human history interacting with and delighting at, not humans themselves so much but the things that they have created. To know that the joy they find in these human constructs is literally changing the very fabric of who they are in ways that they clearly find freeing and deeply fulfilling. That they would literally rather live their quaint little lives on earth, drinking and eating their fill and experiencing human creations, than fulfil their purpose in some cosmic destiny. That they’ll fight to protect it so fiercely even though they’ve been told it’s destruction is preordained.

It’s wild that a story that doesn’t have human characters at it’s centre (in the show anyway), so expertly conveys the joy of being human. Whether you believe humanity exists for a purpose or not, we are simply silly little creatures with an overactive pleasure drive making things that are infinitely more complex than the sum of their parts.

Idk man, it’s the absolute reverence for simple contentment this story holds above all else that gives me life (especially in contrast to its irreverence of Christian morality). I liked season 1 a lot but season 2 soothed some deep hurt in my heart and I’m just so grateful it exists.

[kazuhaiku]

forever be mine

warnings: gn!reader, fluff, a tiny bit inspired by my lvl999 love for yamada-kun (you'll know which part) ノpairings: kinich x reader

notes: if u know which part of that anime im talking about i love you

Nonchalant might not be the right word to describe Kinich, however, there are times when Kinich will act nonchalantly toward you. Maybe it’s the fact that he has a hard time expressing his feelings in front of other people, or maybe it’s how he just doesn’t care about anything. Either way, sometimes it’s really hard for you to understand how Kinich is feeling at some times.

That’s why even after a year of being friends with Kinich, you don’t know whether or not he likes you or not. He treats everyone the same — caring and always willing to help others when they need it. These mixed feelings Kinich gives you are sometimes too much for you to handle that you either get angry or sad over it, to which Mualani is quick to comfort you knowing the longtime crush you’ve had on him.

Whenever the two of you go out together, Kinich doesn’t act differently. He acts the same way he does whenever you hang out with Kachina and Mualani.

As you walk behind Kinich, you stare at his back trying to understand his feelings without asking him directly. You’re practically staring daggers into his back, causing the people you pass by to feel a tiny bit scared of you.

Kinich, seemingly starting to notice the weird stares he’s been getting, turns around and sees you glaring at him. “What’re you doing?”

“Huh?” you snap out of your daze, returning to your usual cheery smile. “Nothing! I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then why are they looking at me as if they’re saying ‘run, now.’?” Kinich questions, crossing his arms as he patiently waits for your answer.

You sigh. “I really can’t hide anything from you, can’t I?” you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly feeling nervous to ask him what’s been on your mind for weeks. Clearing your throat, you speak, “Do you have a crush on me?”

Silence.

Wait. That was not what you were supposed to ask him! Are you stupid? Why did you ask that? “W-Wait that’s not-!”

“You found out.” Kinich tilts his head slightly to the right and gives you a small smile. “And here I thought I was hiding it pretty well.”

“Wait- Huh?!” you exclaim, confused and flustered. “What- What do you mean I found out?! Are you- What?!” you can’t even speak properly, not when Kinich confesses to you so casually like that.

“Hm?” Kinich lets out a confused sound. “Why do you sound so confused?”

“It’s just-!” you scramble to find the right words. “That was not what I was supposed to ask you! It should’ve been-” You take in a deep breath. “Hey, Kinich! Do you like me or do you hate my guts?”

“Oh,” Kinich lets out a laugh. “Same thing, is it not?”

“No!” you exclaim. “I mean, yes I do like you back but that was not how I was expecting you to confess! I was expecting-”

“Wait-” Kinich puts a hand in front of him, stopping you from saying anything else and you can faintly see a hint of red appearing on his cheeks. “You like me too?”

You gasp and then squat down, covering your face in embarrassment because how could you blurt it out like that? “I can’t believe I just said that…” your voice is muffled by your hands, and you hear Kinich laugh. “Stop laughing!”

You hear his footsteps come closer and a finger taps your head gently, making you lift your head. Kinich has his hand stretched out to you. “Come on, we have a date to finish don’t we?”

[haveagarbageday]

Love at first sight \\ Max Verstappen

summary: Max meets his new neighbor and her dog. They spend some time together, and he can't help but realize this might be love at first sight.

In the last few races they had been suffering, there was no better word to describe it, and Max was getting more and more frustrated as the time passed without any progress. He did all he could to help, he gave them his opinions and ideas, but nothing seemed to work properly. Yes, the races hadn’t been catastrophic, he tried to do his damn best to bring some precious points home, but it wasn’t good to see that the McLarens turned into rocket ships, Mercedes had some great races, and don’t even get him started on Charles dragging that shitbox Ferrari into higher positions.

So, no, he wasn’t in a good mood, and used the break to sulk in his apartment for a week, only leaving if it was absolutely necessary. Today was one of those days; he had no choice but to go and pick up something he ordered, but he wasn’t expecting to meet anyone on the way. Well, he wished he wouldn’t meet anyone. But the moment he stepped out of his apartment, he saw a woman stand in front of an apartment that had been empty for a while now, locking the door while her dog seemed to be very interested in him.

“Oliver, just let me lock the door, it will only take a second,” you told the dog when he tried to pull you over to him, but it was a Staffordshire terrier if he wasn’t mistaken, and they were quite strong, so no wonder you were yanked after your stubborn pet. That’s when you looked up and noticed him, and you flashed an apologetic smile at him right away. “Sorry, I don’t know what got into him, he’s usually not interested in strangers.”

The dog sniffed his leg, then moved on to check out his hand, and he seemingly came to the conclusion that he was a likable human, because he began to wag his tail excitedly, and even jumped up on him with his front legs. Max wasn’t happy by the sudden attention, but he could have sworn it seemed like the dog was smiling at him, so his heart melted a little and he couldn’t help but pet him on the head.

“Are you sure he doesn’t like strangers?” he asked with a laugh.

You shrugged. “I don’t know anymore. I mean, when he met my friends back home, he completely ignored them and decided to retreat into my bedroom to be away from the noise. Then after moving here, we stopped to talk to someone on the street, and when the poor girl tried to befriend him, he just turned around and began to pull me away from her,” you added.

Max took a better look at you, and your kind smile and shining eyes didn’t leave him unaffected. You were gorgeous in your own, unique way, different from all the girls he was used to seeing in his life, and a voice in the back of his mind began to convince him to shift the conversation to you. He wanted to know more, he wanted to be your friend, and maybe later he would ask you out on a date, because he really wished he could find out where your relationship could go.

Was this love at first sight? Was this the feeling so many people talked about?

“Do you have a destination or are you just going for a walk around the neighborhood?” he asked you, fidgeting with his watch as he waited.

For a moment, you only watched him with a surprised look, but then you looked down at you dog and let out a thoughtful him. “Well, I usually go wherever he wants to go. I know, not really an alpha-type behavior from me,” you added with a sheepish grin.

God, your smile was contagious, because his own lips curled into a wide smile at this. “How about joining me? There’s a store a few blocks away where I have to pick up a package, but there’s a dog park if we take a little detour if I’m not mistaken. We could stop there on the way back.”

You glanced down at your dog who was still wagging his tail as he watched him, so you eventually nodded and told him it sounded like a good plan. It was nice to know you weren’t against spending time with him, and it made him believe you might be open to the possibility of getting to know him better, maybe under different circumstances. He liked your dog, but there were things he would rather do without him being around. Or his cats being around for that matter, but they were usually minding their own business anyway.

Then again, he was getting ahead of himself. You were just getting to know each other; he didn’t even know your name. So, once you got into the elevator, he decided to introduce himself. You nodded, telling him you knew who he was, then assured him you weren’t some crazy fan who was obsessed with him as you supported Ferrari. That hurt, but it was still better than being a McLaren fan at this point of the season. You told him your name, and even told him you just moved here since your remote job didn’t require you to stay in your home country.

Once you opened up about your life, he began to empty the backlog of questions he had in his mind, asking you about your job, your family, your hobbies, and when you got to the dog park and let Oliver run around, he even dared to bring up the question he deemed the most important: “Did you move here on your own?” Because he was afraid you would say you came here with your boyfriend, which would mean he didn’t have a chance with you. But you only smiled and shook your head, and he could tell you understood what the question was really about.

“I came on my own, and before you ask, I’m single at the moment,” you told him as you took out your dog’s ball from your bag to throw it for him.

Max watched as Oliver brought it back, but instead of you, he decided to put it down in front of him, so he obediently bent down to pick it up and threw it away again. “That’s not why I asked,” he lied, earning an adorable laugh from you. “I’m serious.”

“All right, that’s not why you brought it up then,” you said with a grin as you nudged his arm with your shoulder. “Can it be my turn to ask questions?” you wondered as you looked up at him.

At this point, you could have asked for anything. You were so nice and kind, almost to the point it hinted at your underlying naivety, and he just felt like being the person who could love you the way you deserved, and who could protect you from mean people who might want to hurt you. It was a strange feeling he hadn’t experienced before, this protective instinct that came to the surface as he talked to you. He was drawn to you, and if it was up to him, he would have kept you in his apartment while he wanted to stay away from the rest of the world.

He didn’t even notice that he got lost in his thoughts, because he was brought back to reality when he heard you let out a thoughtful hum next to him. He almost asked you what you were thinking about, but then he remembered your question and cleared his throat. “Sure, ask away.”

To his surprise, you didn’t try to dig deep into his personal life. You asked about his cats, his hobbies, you wondered how he handled being away so much since you would probably go crazy from going from country to country all year despite loving to travel, and you closed your little interview session with a question he barely got with such sincere honesty: “How are you?” People were rarely interested in this. They asked him how he was after races, how he felt about the car or his results, but this was a question for him, the person behind the real and sim racing mask.

At first, he didn’t even know what to say. He wanted to say, “I’m frustrated because our car is terrible,” but at the same time it was also on the tip of his tongue to say something along the lines of, “I’m feeling a lot better now that I met you.” But while one was related to racing, which he didn’t feel like mentioning, the other simply made it too obvious that he was slowly falling for you. Considering you only met about two hours ago, it was almost pathetic how much he wished he could ask you out without sounding weird.

But the time wasn’t right, you would need some more time to loosen up even more around him, to get to know him in a way a lot of people never got to. In the end he decided to say something neutral. “Not in the best mood, but at least I can see the light at the end of the tunnel,” he replied.

“And what’s that light? New upgrades? Or the end of the season?” you asked him with a mysterious smile.

You.

He couldn’t say that though, not without sounding like a creep. “A mix of different things,” he replied after a short break.

After a nod, you called your dog to put him on the leash again, but he was feeling really good where he was, lying on his side and enjoying the sunshine. “I guess Oliver is so tired he’ll sleep through the rest of the day,” you told Max with a laugh, then left to collect the dog.

The three of you walked back to the apartment building, spending that time talking about casual topics, and eventually you said goodbye, then disappeared behind your front door. He stood there on the hallway for a short while, watching it as if you would return any second, but deep down he knew you wouldn’t come. He should have asked you to have dinner with him, he should have given you his number. Just in case you needed something, of course, after all you were neighbors, it was the bare minimum to have the chance to contact the other.

He spent an hour or two in the sim rig, then he somehow found himself looking for you on social media apps, hoping he could find you. And after some digging, he finally stumbled upon your account, and he didn’t hesitate to send you a DM. All he did was write about how you could always write if you needed something or if you wanted to talk, and that simple message turned into a long conversation, one that made him forget about the sim race that took place that evening. If it wasn’t for the phone call he got, he wouldn’t have remembered it.

In the morning when he woke up, the first thing he did was checking his phone to see if there were any new notifications that could interest him. And there was one that stood out: “You awake? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. How does brunch sound?” He had never typed a response faster than now that he sent you a single word: “Perfect.”

[chanranghaeys]

🚪 svt when they don't open the door for you when you knock

a/n: weirdly specific but i was triggered by this recently hence; not properly proofread word count: 3.8k tags: comfort!svt, gn!annoyed+emotional!reader, reader described to be smaller than svt, fluff, pet names, emotional tears, some raised voices (to and from minghao)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Seungcheol — immediately stands up when he hears just the keys jingling at the door. He runs to reach it before you turn the knob but he’s too late.

But before you could even start complaining, before you could even glare at him, Cheol immediately embraces you and says “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t hear your knocks, I have no excuse.”

In this instance, all his pouts are not to annoy you, but to beg you to get rid of your annoyance at him. So try as you might to stay annoyed at him, how could you when he’s got you locked safe in the embrace of his strong and secure arms?

(i’m sorry cheol’s is so short because……..i think this is the most accurate i can get him honestly it’s just really straightforward like this for him)

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Jeonghan — immediately walks out of your shared room to greet you as soon as he hears the door open.

“You’re home—” he says with arms outstretched, but you cut him off instantly.

“Why didn’t you open the door for me?” He stays silent, a questioning look on his face. “I knocked so many times, but you know we can’t knock too loudly right? I was waiting for you to open the door, but you didn’t.”

You roll your eyes and steam off to your room, sidestepping him and his efforts to talk to you. When you emerge and settle on the couch, he sits beside you but at a slight distance because he knew better than to keep pressing when you were like this.

When he sees that your breathing started to regulate and your expression seemed to neutralize, that’s when he reaches for your hand and laces his fingers in yours. “How was your day, my angel?”

You just look at him. He persists, kissing the back of your intertwined hand. “Come here, I know you need a hug.”

Reluctantly, you lower your pride and scoot closer to him, settling on his chest. “Now, what’s bothering my angel? I know it’s more than just the door, and I’m really sorry that hurt you. But it’s more than the door, isn’t it? How are you really?”

You fight back tears because you know he’s right. It just wasn't your day and nothing went well, and you feel so bad that you projected your unnecessary anger at him.

You hug him tighter and mumble out an “I’m sorry Hannie,” to which he replies, “I’m sorry too, it’s okay. Hannie is here to listen, I’m here.”

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Joshua — doesn’t realize his mistake at first and greets you like normal: with a smile, a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. He quickly realizes that something was off when you don’t return the said hug and kiss as enthusiastically as you usually do, and your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. When you only gave one word replies to him asking how your day was, alarms flare in his head.

He stops whatever he’s doing and does the same to you, taking the few groceries you were packing away from your hands and replacing them with his. he looks you in the eye, the alarm and guilt so palpable in his.

“I’m sorry,” he immediately prefaces. “What did I do? Or what did I not do? I’m so, so sorry.”

At his apologies, you started feeling bad as you saw him so helpless, but you also couldn’t hold back the whining tone from your voice as you said, “You knew I went to get some groceries. Why didn’t you open the door?” You feel bad, yes, but you’re also still annoyed.

He sighs in realization and frustration, before he looks back to you and caresses your cheek, then wordlessly pulls you into his chest. He strokes your head and smooths down your hair, a gesture that never fails to comfort you.

“I’m sorry, love. I’m really sorry. I really didn’t hear the door, I promise I didn’t mean to.” You stay like that for a while, just holding each other before he breaks away, saying he’ll be right back. When he emerges from your room, he had a light jacket on to cover his tank top.

“Let’s go.”

“What?”

“For a walk. And a snack. And because I know something else is bothering that pretty head of yours,” he says with a kiss to your forehead. “Really tell me about your day, love. I want to hear all about it.”

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Junhui — plays along with your annoyed air at first, mocking your tone whenever you said “Why didn’t you open the door?” with his own mischievous smile.

When he saw that you didn’t just glare at him once or twice—it was five times to be exact—he slowly tones down, then fully stops when you stay silent. That’s when he realizes how seriously annoyed you were at this miss.

He isn’t very physically and verbally expressive of his love, but he wordlessly proceeds to set the dining table for you the moment you sat there, cautious of how you were going to react. When he was done, he sat down with you, stealing glances at you as you proceeded with dinner. When you asked if he had eaten, he shook his head silently.

As some time passed and there was a slight lull while you were eating, he grabs your hand and looks you in the eye with intent and remorse. “I'm sorry I didn’t open the door for you. I’ll be way more attentive next time.”

For the first time since you arrived, the frown on your face melted because here was Junhui so straightforward and affectionate when he rarely was. The moment he saw that smile on your lips, he leaned in to kiss it. “There’s my favorite smile.”

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Soonyoung — at a loss for words as to how to make it up to you. But because it was Soonyoung, you couldn’t really stay annoyed at him for so long. After all, that was the first time it happened and he just happened to catch you on a bad day too, and you see that it never happened again.

But you also saw there’s more to it than that. Since then, he proceeds to open literally anything for you, from bedroom and car doors, to jars and cereal boxes, even the TV at one point, grabbing the remote from your hand and doing a simple push of a button for you.

He only stops when you ask him “Soonyoungie, I know how unbelievably sweet it is for you to open these things for me, but are you still doing this because of what happened before?”

He just looked at you and pursed his lips. He really didn’t want to make you feel anything negative, especially when he was the cause of it. He wordlessly gave you a sullen nod.

You melt at this and pull him in for a hug, repeatedly reassuring him that you weren’t annoyed at him anymore and that he could stop. Well, he didn’t completely stop, he realized that it was no big deal to do even the smallest things for you.

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Wonwoo — was always busy with his games whenever you knock at your door and no one answers. You were pretty used to it, in fact. It wasn’t everyday, but it happened often. On those days, you just go to him and kiss his forehead. Most times, he immediately stops the game and dedicates his time to you.

But that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t make you a bit sad everytime he fails to greet you at the door. So when a time came that this happened for how many days straight, your sadness turned into frustration and then annoyance.

It reached its peak when he was so engrossed with whatever he was playing that he didn’t even look to you when you arrived, didn’t even greet you. You scoff, but it fell to deaf ears inside his gaming headset. You walk out and busy yourself with something, anything besides him. When he does finally come out, he greets you, but is given the cold shoulder. He notices it right away.

“Love?” Silence. “Baby?” More silence. He attempts to hold your hand, but you pull it away. Oh shit. He tries again, inching closer to try and hug you, but his advances are rejected as you move away from him.

He sighs with defeat, knowing that he won’t get anywhere when you’re like this. So the evening passed in silence. When you two were finally getting ready for bed, you try to find sanctuary under the covers for the hurt in your heart. You try to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. You feel Wonwoo’s side dip with his weight, and when he settled down, he finally got the chance to wrap you in a hug.

“Talk to me. Please. I think I know what this is about, so just talk to me. I know we won’t be able to sleep without fixing this problem. Please.”

You cave and face him, tears threatening to fall from your eyes. And he realizes how grave his mistake was.

Since then, he always came running to the door at the first few knocks, greeting you with a tight hug and a soft forehead kiss. You wonder how, and you find out that the sounds from his games were a little too loud whenever you arrived.

“Wonwoo-ya! Where were you? How could you abandon us to die?” You peek into his gaming room and hear frustrated voices coming from the speakers.

“Sorry! I had to attend to more important things,” he speaks into his mic with a wink toward your direction.

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Jihoon — was a homebody, and always answered the door without fail. That is, whenever he was home before you were, which was a rare occurrence. It was a different story for his perpetually locked studio. He never answered the door for anyone, not even you. So as long as he was inside and could unlock the door remotely, you entered quietly to not disturb his artistic process.

There was one rule, most especially applicable to him, and that rule is no work was to be brought home. He rarely took breaks anymore when at the office and in the studio, so home was a place for rest.

He followed the said rule religiously, until you experienced unanswered knocks similar to how he is in the studio. For the past few days when you open the door, you see him slumped over his desk with work, samples streaming from the speakers or strewn paper filled with various lyrics.

For the nth consecutive time this happens, you were fed up with him. Your efforts at knocking to get his attention proved futile, so you called. He answered on the second ring.

“Jihoon-ah. I’ve been knocking for 10 minutes. Why aren’t you answering?”

You were greeted at the door by a breathless Jihoon, confused and slightly annoyed, asking you “Why didn’t you just open the door?”

That did it for you. “Because we’re not at your studio, Jihoon. We’re supposed to be at home.” You pushed past him in frustration, and his actions slowly dawned on him.

The next day, you wake to a soft kiss on your forehead and a whispered “I love you” before Jihoon left for work. Your annoyance has mostly died down, but it was replaced by a pang of sadness, that was quickly replaced by shock when you exited your room and saw what was on the table.

It was a bouquet of delicate flowers in your favorite color, nothing grand, but something well thought of. You notice something glinting tied around the stems. It was a key. On the table was a note: “I will open all the doors for you, and leave them open for you and only you. Even the door to the studio will be unlocked for you. I’m sorry. - Your Ji”

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Minghao — doesn’t immediately understand what the big deal is about.

"It’s just a door."

That’s what you hear him say when he finally asks why you’ve been annoyed and cold the moment you stepped into the apartment.

“It’s not just a door, Minghao!”

“You don’t hear me say the same thing when you don’t open the door for me, do you?”

“But I apologize after! It’s like you don’t even care!”

“I care, but it’s just not a big deal for me.”

“Well then if it’s not a big deal, why couldn’t you do something so simple?”

“I didn’t mean to not hear you knocking! I just happened to be preoccupied then!”

“Wow, so you were too preoccupied to even greet me? To apologize to me?”

It was a bad day for both of you, and you ended up fighting fire with fire, bringing up even unrelated issues from past and present, until one of you reached your tipping point, all from a simple gesture not done.

At that tipping point, he is rendered silent. “Pause. I can’t do this.”

You nod. “Pause.”

After a few moments, he speaks again. “I’m sorry. You know how blunt I can be. I didn’t see right away that it’s not what you need right now.”

You nod. “I’m sorry. It’s really not my day. I just couldn’t understand how you could say that as if it’s nothing.”

He initiates contact, reaching for your hands and circling them around his waist, and you effortlessly lean into the embrace he forms around you. He presses a soft kiss on the crown of your head. His lips stay there when you hear him say, "It's not nothing. It's never nothing with you."

“Then please just open the door next time?”

He lightly chuckles, and you feel his chest move with it. “It really is just a door. But okay, I’ll make sure to always open it for you.”

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Mingyu — always opens the door for you. No contest.

But on the rare occasion that he misses to do so, and he caught you on a bad day at that, he just stands there like a helpless puppy as the gravity of his actions sinks in. Whether you say your choice words, or with no words at all, he will know what he did wrong right away.

You storm into your room and he quickly follows, but your body language made it clear that you didn’t want to be disturbed. Despite his height, you easily sidestepped him as you made your way into the bathroom to shower.

Mingyu was standing by the door of the bathroom when you finished. You tried sidestepping him again, but he stood his ground this time, catching you in his embrace, rubbing your back, then kneading your temples. He led you back to your room, helping you dress up, dry your hair, massages your hands. While you do your skincare, he combs your hair straight and with no tangles. When you’re done and you stop to look at each other in the mirror, he hugs you from behind, and you allow him to do so.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I won’t.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck and doesn’t let go until you finally give him a kiss on the cheek, one that was denied from him when you arrived. You tried really hard to stay annoyed at Mingyu, but you can’t, you just can’t.

So he always opens the door for you, without fail. He’d rather see your endless smiles if it meant doing something as simple as this.

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Seokmin — you knock at the door, knowing Seokmin is inside because you can hear him busy inside. It isn’t as usual for him to be home earlier than you because it was usually the other way around, so when he doesn’t open the door for you, your annoyance slowly grew with every knock.

You were just so tired and couldn’t wait to lie down but he couldn’t even open the door for you? You fumble with your keys, even dropping it in frustration, and he still didn’t hear you.

When you finally open the door, you hear music playing from the speakers and you can smell something…off. A panicked yelp confirms that yes, indeed, something is wrong, and you follow the scent to the kitchen, where you see Seokmin trying to save what was left of his bowl’s contents.

“Seokminnie, are you okay? What happened?”

His alarmed eyes met yours and were soon filled with disappointment. “You’re here. I didn’t even hear you come in. I’m sorry, I…I was just trying to make you something because I know you’re tired with all those messages you sent me and it was just the right timing that I could leave work early so I rushed home and then this happened and—”

You can’t believe you had the gall to be annoyed at him when he was the sweetest, most thoughtful man on earth. You take the bowl from his hands and hug him, resting your head on his beating heart. He molds himself into you and wraps you in his arms.

“I love you, Minnie.”

He kisses the crown of your head and rests his chin there while rubbing your back reassuringly. “I love you too. You can rest now, I’ll take care of this. Don’t worry.”

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Seungkwan — you were so ready to be petty and annoyed, you already had choice words in mind because you think this was payback for all the times you absentmindedly did the same to him, how he was left stewing but you secretly always took this chance to placate and soothe him because you knew he liked it when you fussed over him.

Nonetheless, you tried to be as obnoxious as possible while fumbling with your keys and opening the door. Seeing the back of his head leaned on the couch, you couldn’t even believe that he didn’t turn his head to you until you stood in front of him and was immediately silenced.

Seungkwan was fast asleep, deeply asleep that your noise didn’t even wake him. You slowly backtracked and remembered what his day was like today, how it was packed to the brim with schedules from one place to another, and you felt guilty as hell.

As quietly as you could, you brush his hair away from his face. You overestimated how deep his sleep was though, because his eyes flow open the moment he felt your touch.

“Wha—you’re home!” He grabs your hand and looks at you with sleepy eyes that closed again when he realized that “Ah no, I fell asleep. I was trying to wait for you but—”

You shushed him at that moment and said it was okay because this tired sleepyhead needs to rest already. You pull him up from the couch, where he wordlessly fixed himself against your side and kissed the side of your head as you walked into your shared room so you could tuck him in properly.

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Vernon — was watching a movie and was so fixated on it that he didnt even notice you were in until you opened the light.

“Oh—oh! Youre home!” He scrambles to pause the movie and brisk walk straight to you for a tight hug, even swaying slightly side to side. When he breaks apart and sees the slight frown on your face (that you quickly assembled after it got wiped away with that damn heartwarming hug), he tilts his head to the side.

“I know that face. What did I do? Is it because I didn’t open the door?” He widens his eyes in acknowledgment as it clicks in his head and lets out a defeated smile.

“I’m sorry” and while he still had you in his clutches, he kisses your nose.

“I’m sorry,” and a kiss on your cheek, another apology with another kiss to your other cheek, your forehead, your lips, your eyes, until you're smothered with his kisses.

He doesn’t stop until you were pushing him away, but he achieved his goal of making you smile. “Are you still annoyed? I’m not stopping,” He says, returning your smile with your favorite gummy smile of his.

“No, okay, stop! I’m okay. I’m not annoyed anymore…but don’t do it again.”

“Got it,” with one final kiss, a deeper one on your lips. When you both come up for air, he follows it up with “Come on, what do you wanna watch?”

───────────── ౨ৎ ─────────────

Chan — apologized as profusely as he could after seeing your annoyed face, hugging and kissing and never letting you leave his embrace until you finally said you weren’t annoyed anymore.

You let it go then, but you’re still a bit petty, and decided to do an Uno Reverse on him when the opportunity presented itself. You acted as nonchalant as possible when you heard him struggle with his keys, open the door, and finally face you from where you were seated.

When you look up from the book you were reading, you tried to act as surprised as you could. “Oh, Channie! You’re home.” You could see a sheen of annoyance masking his face, one he was trying to keep down.

“Didn’t you hear me knocking?”

“…No, sorry. I guess I was too into this book. I’m sorry Channie,” you say with the best pout you could muster.

You see his eyes narrow ever so slightly, before he smiles and leans down to kiss your forehead. “It’s okay, baby.” He wordlessly settles down beside you on the couch and pulls you in to cuddle and hold you tight.

You were dumbstruck to say the least. He wasn’t…annoyed? “You’re not annoyed at me?”

He pulls you in closer, nuzzling his cheek against yours before saying “No,” followed by a kiss to your cheek. “But I know you still are. And I’m really sorry. So I’ll just hold you tight until this hurt goes away.”

Your heart swells with pride at how he instantly saw through your seemingly tough facade. You melt against him, all sign of annoyance gone from you as you whisper a “Thank you, Chan.”

[lincolndjarin]

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging. 

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.  

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim. 

“My entire Christmas bonus.” 

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh. 

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this. 

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work. 

“Please, Steve.” 

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours. 

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process. 

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away. 

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today. 

Javier P. 

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office. 

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with. 

Every single woman, except you. 

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner. 

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be. 

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo. 

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed. 

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk. 

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her. 

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs. 

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails. 

Red chipped paint. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway. 

Probably. 

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you? 

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless. 

Stupid fucking Peña. 

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car. 

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though. 

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap. 

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday. 

Jesus. 

You know way too much about him. 

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails. 

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette. 

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night. 

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower. 

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt. 

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes. 

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected. 

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses. 

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours. 

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt. 

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach. 

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation. 

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie. 

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier. 

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.  

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up. 

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift. 

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things. 

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away. 

Javier traded for your name? 

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting. 

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again. 

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident. 

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend. 

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.  

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people. 

Javier’s office. 

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand. 

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him. 

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult. 

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab. 

What a foolish question. 

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home. 

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall. 

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face. 

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow. 

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?  

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out. 

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends. 

“So this is about the secret Santa.” 

Of course he wouldn’t get it. 

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him. 

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first. 

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms. 

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide. 

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye. 

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night. 

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.” 

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go. 

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you. 

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole. 

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth. 

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts. 

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt. 

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment. 

Jesus you’re soaked. 

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him. 

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here. 

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock. 

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission. 

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you. 

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust. 

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor. 

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk. 

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time. 

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning. 

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk. 

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while. 

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. 

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss. 

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier. 

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting. 

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

[mistiell]

If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc

Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k

---

“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.

You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.

Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.

You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.

He hates it.

The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.

You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”

Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”

“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”

He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.

You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”

He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.

“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.”

The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”

Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”

He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.

Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.

Good people.

“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.

Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”

He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.

He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.

“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.

There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.

“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”

Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.

Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”

Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”

The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”

You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”

“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”

He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”

“I do.” He grins.

And he does.

[messysketchyobeyme]

Solomon’s grip tightens around your waist, squeezing the life out of you. You let out a choked gasp. You can’t see Solomon’s face, since it’s buried in your chest, but you swear that he’s smirking right now.

“When did you become so needy?” You twist around, but there’s no breaking out of Solomon’s hold. You sigh, settling with pulling the blanket toward you, instead.

Solomon’s fingers drum against your back. “I wouldn’t describe myself as needy,” he says. He’s probably pouting right now.

“Fine,” you say, “How about clingy, grabby, or even possessive? Do any of those work?”

“You’re really breaking my heart over here…”

You groan. Loudly. But, you can’t hide the smile that tugs on your face. “Come on, Solomon.” You kiss the top of his head. His ears turn red. “It was only a week.”

Solomon pulls his head back, so he can look at you properly. “You were at the House of Lamentation for a week straight. Do you have any idea how lonely I was?” He’s giving you the biggest puppy eyes he can manage.

“I know, I know, but there was this whole thing with Satan and Lucifer, and…I don’t want to get into it.” You absentmindedly begin to massage Solomon’s head, running your fingers through his hair. It’s soft and smells vaguely of some potion he was brewing earlier.

Solomon moves to rest his head underneath your chin. “When we first started living together, I didn’t realize how much of an effect it would have on me.” He kisses your collar bone. “Even being apart for a short while is enough to hurt.”

“Me neither, but…” you trail off, trying to find the right words. “Well, why don’t I make up for all of the time I’ve been away? Right now.”

Solomon’s breath quickens, but he covers it with a laugh. “That’s my adorable apprentice.”

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reunion

Summary: A short sequel to 5 Times Natasha Came to Rescue Y/n, plus the 1 Time She Didn't Arrive In Time

Authors note: Someone on Wattpad really wanted this and it inspired me to get some writing done for once lol. So here is a small drabble

Word Count: 809

Natasha Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

    Natasha wakes with a jolt and finds herself laying in some grass looking up at the outstretched branches of a nearby tree. This causes her brows to crease as confusion settles in. She's not sure why or how, but she knows this isn’t right. This isn’t where she's supposed to be.

   She sits up to further take in her surroundings and is shocked to see nothing but rolling hills and bright blue skies. The sound of moving water nearby has her shifting her gaze to find a stream. The sight of the water has her realizing just how dry her mouth is so not knowing what else to do, she figures she might as well quench her thirst.

   As she sits up she's struck by just how sore her entire body is. It feels like she's done every exercise in the Shield training manual before sparring a few rounds with Steve. She shakes off this feeling though and trudges forward towards the stream. As she settles on her knees in front of it she notices just how clear it is, and as she dips her hands in they are met with a coldness that only comes from mountain water. 

   She cups them together and eagerly brings them to her lips, letting the refreshing liquid make its way down her parched throat. She takes a few more sips before rising to her feet again, and she looks around once more. What had she been doing to end up here? There was a mission, wasn't there? No. No that wasn’t right, it wasn’t a mere mission. What she was on was so much more than that and was incredibly important. 

   Suddenly a sharp pain makes its way up her spine that nearly takes her to her knees, and the back of her head throbs with such an intensity that she cries out. She braces the back of her head with her hands and grits her teeth as she tries to figure out what's going on. And as the sun catches on the arrow necklace that dangles from her neck, it all comes rushing back. 

   She had been with Clint on a planet called Vormir. A sacrifice was required to gain the soul stone, and she hadn’t let him be the one to jump. She remembers he had tried to save her though, but she hadn’t let that stop her. She had fallen. Which means…she had died. She swallows harshly as she looks around once more. Did that mean…was this the afterlife? 

   She's almost certain that it was, but she can’t ponder on it too long as the sound of footsteps gains her attention. She's not sure who or what she had been expecting, but the person she sees walking towards her exceeds all expectations, and she can already feel warm tears dripping down her cheeks.

   “Y/n!!” she shouts as she runs straight at you, she practically throws herself into your arms and her embrace has enough force behind it that you both go tumbling into the grass below. The feeling of your arms around her once more after so many years has a sob escaping her, and her hold on you tightens as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, “After I lost you, I was lost too. Everyone wanted me to try to move on, but I just couldn’t detka(baby), and I didn't want to either. You were, and still are my everything. I love you so much.”

  But she didn’t have to say any of that, the pair of wedding rings you’d seen dangling from the same chain as Clint's arrow charm had already told you that. You turn slightly to nuzzle your cheek against hers, “I love you too, Tasha. And while I missed you more than I could ever describe, I would have waited even longer for you”

   “I’m sorry” she mumbles, not wanting you to be upset with her 

   “Don’t apologize Natasha, please.” you assure her, “You were so strong, my love. And so brave. What you did…you saved the world”

    She moves her head back enough to look at you properly though her vision is still blurred by tears, “It worked, then?”

   You nod as your hands move to cup her face, “You did it baby, everyone's home now”

   She lets out a tearful relieved chuckle and smiles at you so softly that you can no longer hold back. Without a second thought you bring your lips to meet hers for a kiss that you waited years for, and Nat, who thought she’d never get to experience this again practically melts against you. And she knows then the truth of your words, because not only was half the universe returned home but she was as well. You were her home, and had been the moment she realized she loved you.

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2

[sleepyjuice]

30 maybe with sone angst and hurt/comfort??

warnings: description of a panic attack, mention of abuse, mentions of l*ke maybank

note: i combined these two asks together, hope that’s okay!

“JJ, just talk to me, please, baby.” You pleaded with your boyfriend.

He was a mess, pacing around your bedroom relentlessly, breathing heavy and ragged as he ran his fingers roughly through his hair, then put his hat back on, then took it off again and so on and so forth.

You and JJ had spent the majority of the day together until he had to run home to “handle some business” according to him.

There was nothing you hated more than knowing JJ was in the same room as his father. It made you sick, but you had to respect his decisions when it came to that.

He had only been home for a total of about twenty minutes before he was calling you, the sound of thick wind and the grumble of his dirt bike filling the speaker as he asked, “can I come over?”

Your answer went without saying.

You quickly ushered him to your bedroom once he arrived at your house, sitting him down on the foot of your bed as you sat behind him. But he was restless, immediately standing up and pacing.

That led you to now. You never wanted to push him to talk about his dad unless he brought it up first. It was something he buried so deep inside of him and it was rare that his emotions regarding the matter ever truly rose to the surface.

“God, I just— fuck!” He kicked a shoe that was laying on the floor, quickly looking in your direction to see if he had startled you. He didn’t.

You would let him vent if he decided that’s what he wanted to do, and if he didn’t, that was also okay. After being with JJ as long as you have been, you quickly learned that what he truly needs is just the comfort of his loved ones.

“I know, Jay, I know.” You spoke softly from your spot on the bed, sitting criss cross as you watched him helplessly.

The only semi good thing about this encounter with his dad was that you didn’t notice any new marks or bruises on his skin. It must have just been a conversation that went sour. You were just glad he wasn’t physically hurt again.

“I don’t… Baby, I don’t know what to do when I feel this way. I’m scared.” He panted, kneeling down in front of you now, his hands resting on your thighs, gripping onto them for dear life as if you could slip away at any moment.

“And that’s okay, you’re here and you’re safe, yeah? I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. I just need you to breathe for me.” You placed your hands on top of his, giving them a gentle squeeze as you began to breathe deeply, hoping he would follow.

His glossy eyes studied yours for a few moments, swallowing hard before clearing his throat and inhaling shakily, trying to match his breathing with yours.

You nodded in encouragement, his tight grip on your thighs loosening ever so slightly as his breathing slowed somewhat, his heart rate slowly falling back to a semi normal rhythm.

“I just can’t— Can’t find the right…words.” He spoke slowly, squeezing his eyes shut as he racked his brain for the words to describe the way he felt. It was as if his heart struggled to communicate with his brain and his brain wouldn’t communicate with his voice. It frustrated him beyond belief and that was a part of why he worked himself up so badly.

“And that’s okay. I know you’re hurting, you don’t need to try and explain if it’s too difficult. It’s just us now, I’m here however you need me to be.” You told him, watching as he took in your words and nodded, slowly standing up before crawling onto your bed and laying his head onto your lap, his arms wrapping around your lower waist.

You could see his shoulders drop, his guard dropping more and more as he allowed himself to feel safe in your presence.

“It’s never been this bad before.” He sighed, his eyes darting up to meet yours.

“What do you mean?”

“The way I feel. My chest hurting and my mind spinning so hard that I don’t feel human, can’t even figure out how to properly speak and tell you how I feel.” He responded, his fingers playing gently with the bottom of your shirt.

“You just did.” You pointed out, wanting him to credit the fact that he was currently doing exactly what he said he couldn’t, explaining why he couldn’t talk about it.

“I guess, yeah.” He breathed, scooting up on the bed and pulling you down so you were laying with him now, his strong arms pulling you into his chest as he held you, keeping you as close as he possibly could.

“Thanks for, y’know.” He whispered quietly, knowing that if you could understand him when he was in the state he was in, you would understand exactly what he was thanking you for.

[leewritestoomuch]

Hello! Small request here~ can you possibly do a Dr,stone headcanon where reader has severely bad memory? They’re memory is so bad to the point they would start to call everyone by fruits, vegetables, plants. You name it. Just so they could remember their faces properly? This has been in my mind for so long..but of course no rush and always take care of urself! <3

Idk if you take emoji anons, but can I be 🌒 or 🪻anon? You can choose which one if both are free!

Hi🪻anon (I picked this one cuz I like flowers and it’s different from the emojis I already have anons for, hope that’s okay) (oh and this request is about plants so it fits!)

I decided to do Senku, Gen, Tsukasa, and Hyoga. (I’m finally writing for Tsukasa, THE WORLD REJOICES)

Senku Ishigami

You called him a Leak.

He’s confused, but then looks in the mirror and… holy shit you’re right.

He’s offended, but like brushes it off.

“Focus” he says, turning you back to your work.

He thinks it’s strange thought when you don’t call him by his name even to others.

Eventually, he realizes you must not remember his name.

He couldn’t care less tbh. Maybe you are bad with names? Thats common enough he really doesn’t dig.

Gen Asagiri

You called him “nightshade”

It’s his favorite flower so he’s not fazed.

Oh, not the mention it means “liar.” And he’s the world’s best.

Eventually, while watching you, he realizes you don’t call him anything but it, so he subtly tests you.

He works to push you towards saying his name, and you really just don’t seem receptive.

Eventually, he’d subtly pry your reasoning out of you when he notices you call everybody plants and vegetables.

He finds out that the amount of different plants in the nightshade family reminds you of his two faced nature and helps you remember him.

He finds it interesting.

Tsukasa Shishio

He was confused when you called him “Rosanne”

Did you think he was a woman…?

From Gen, he finds out that you might be referring to a Rosanne Brown Lisianthus since you call everybody by plant names.

Gen says he doesn’t know the reason and shrugs, shaking his head as he walks away.

You later tell him it looks like a rose and it’s got a beautiful brown color sometimes.

He gets it now… his hair color!

Takes it as a compliment because the flower sounds pretty the way you describe it.

Hyoga Akatsuki

You called him “cauliflower”

He’s confused?

He’s not… a vegetable?

Are you calling him as weak as a mere vegetable? He’s not, so???

Genuinely, he’s confused.

Takes it the wrong way.

Gives you an eye smile and nods, but then straight up walks away from you.

He over hears somebody talking about your odd nicknames for every one and it clicks that you must be remembering him that way. Cauliflower is white… so is his hair. Okay…

[skzdarlings]

chill | the threesome series ; skz ; hyunjin/reader/jeongin

masterlist.

threesome series part 4/4. long awaited finale lol.

summary: when a lie about a fake boyfriend spirals out of control, your friends take it upon themselves to help.

pairing: hyunjin/reader/jeongin content info: friends to lovers romcom. fake relationship trope. sharing a bed trope. lots of teasing and bickering and indignant exclamations. some bossy dom!hyunjin and sweet jeongin. reader is described with a bigger chest. kissing w people watching. sex toys, dacryphilia, no mention of protection, threesome, explicit sexual content word count: 8440 words.

enjoy <3

-

Your bottom lip is already wobbling when you click call.   You sprawl on your belly, front-down in a frilly pink bed in your childhood bedroom.  You are visiting your parents in the countryside, miles away from your apartment in the city and miles away from your best friends. 

You are calling them now, desperate for their friendly faces.  Your boys are the first ones you call in any crisis.  You don’t know what you would do without them.  Just the thought has you sniffling despondently. 

After a few more rings, Jeongin and Hyunjin answer one right after the other.  Your phone is filled with three little squares of faces, theirs smiling and yours utterly miserable.      

You look at those smiles and promptly burst into tears. 

“Ahh!” Hyunjin wails. 

“Ohh, whoa, what!” Jeongin says.

Both of them look concerned, all scrunched up brows and frowning faces.  At least you think so.  It is hard to see through your tears. 

“Baby, baby,” Hyunjin says.  At the same time, Jeongin asks, “What’s wrong?”

You cry a few more weepy sobs, then you grab the closest teddy bear and wipe your eyes on it.  You sniffle and pout. 

Even though you want their comfort, you can’t bring yourself to look at your friends when you admit, “I’ve been lying to my parents for months.” 

“What?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Huh?”  Jeongin says.

You blink away your tears and look at them properly.  They are the very picture of concern.  They have such striking faces so their emotions are always so plain, their features sharp, with thick dark brows and sloping cheeks and full lips.  Jeongin dyed his hair a fairer auburn a while ago, but Hyunjin is dark, both of them so handsome it makes you hiccup on a caught breath.  

These thoughts make you feel even more pathetic.  Here you are, gawking at your best friends while everything falls apart around you. 

You drop your face and cry some more.  They watch helplessly through their screens, saying your name and trying to calm you down. 

“What happened?” Hyunjin asks when your tears have slowed. 

“Remember a few months ago, when I went out with that guy who works at the coffee shop?”

“Yes, I hated him,” Jeongin says in a clipped tone while Hyunjin scoffs. 

“Me too,” Hyunjin says.  Their sour faces speak volumes. 

“What!”  This distracts you from yours tears for a moment.  “You guys told me you liked him!”

“Yeah, only because you did,” Jeongin says.  He is in his bedroom and he flops back on his bed, his mop of hair forming a charming halo around his head.  He grins that dimpled, mischievous grin at you.  “But now you don’t like him, so we hate him.”

“I always hated him,” Hyunjin says.  He is sitting at his desk, lit so prettily by lamplight that it looks like a dreamy filter.  He props his face in his hand and pouts dramatically.  “You didn’t need him anyway, baby,” he says.  “You’ve always got us.” 

At the same time Hyunjin says this, Jeongin tucks a hand under his head.  He is wearing a sleeveless top and his bicep flexes where his bare arm curves.  Between Hyunjin’s pretty face and prettier words, and Jeongin looking like that, it is no wonder how quickly heat rushes to your face. 

You bury your face in the blankets and shriek, frustrated with everything in your ridiculous life.  They are still looking at you with concern when you surface. 

“Sorry,” you say.  “The point is, my mom would ask about him.  You know what my parents are like and how much they want me to be in a relationship.” 

You love your family, you do.  You do not regret using visiting your parents.  The dinners and tea times and game nights have been a delight.  You have been proud to catch them up on your life in the city.  You are happy with your life, your education and your job and your friends.  Your parents are proud of you. 

They just cannot help but poke that one little detail, snagging like a loose thread on a nail and unravelling your careful composition with their obvious judgement. 

You are not in a relationship.  You have never been in a relationship.

Oh, sure, there have been dates scattered here and there, but nothing serious.  You are fine with this but your parents consider this cause for catastrophic levels of concern. 

You try to show grace.  Your family is only nosy out of misplaced worries, convinced that if you do not have a boyfriend then you must sobbing yourself to sleep every night.  Which is not true.  Well, sometimes it’s true, especially because your two best friends are the ones making your heart race, but most of the time you just eat cheese toast in bed. 

To assuage the worst of their concerns, you maybe exaggerated the truth a teensy tiny bit. 

“Well,” you say, “They were so happy that I went on more than one date, so it got them off my case for a while.  After we went our separate ways, I sort of just… kept telling them… I was still seeing him…”

“Uh oh,” Jeongin says.  Hyunjin grimaces.  Yeah, your friends know you well.  They have never met your family but they know the stories and they can guess where this is going. 

“Yeah, uh oh is right,” you say.  “My mom invited me out here for their summer party.  They throw one every year to start the season.  They invite the whole family and all their friends and their friends’ kids.  It’s huge.  I wasn’t even thinking when I said I would come because I always do.  Only when I agreed did my mom tell me to bring my boyfriend for everyone to meet… at which point I remembered…”

“That you don’t actually have a boyfriend?”  Jeongin asks with a quirked eyebrow.  Hyunjin laughs, covering his mouth with a quick slap of his hand to hide it. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” you say with a miserable whine.  “It’s not funny.  I messed up and now I don’t know what to tell them!”

“What did you tell them so far?” Jeongin asks while Hyunjin tries to get his face under control. 

“I was going to tell them the truth when I got here,” you say.  “But then they were so disappointed that my boyfriend wasn’t with me.  I couldn’t disappoint them even more by saying he didn’t exist at all in the first place!” 

“So you told a bigger lie instead,” Hyunjin says, tilting his head questioningly.  “What did you say exactly?” 

“I just said he was busy with work,” you say.  “And they were really upset about it so I tried to cheer them up.  I said he was going to try and make it to the party at least.” 

“But he’s not real,” Jeongin says. 

“Yes, Jeongin!” you squeal.  “That’s the problem!  And also—”  A flood of tears return, blurring your vision again.  “I know it’s so stupid.  We’re all grown-ups now.  But I was the youngest out of all the kids growing up, so I was always the dumb little tag-along.  My mom has told everyone I have a boyfriend coming and if I make up an excuse tomorrow, they’re all gonna see through it.  They’ll be nice to my face because we aren’t kids anymore but I already know they’re gonna talk about me and how pathetic I am.”  You start crying again, looking around at the bedroom you grew up in, still filled with the books and clothes and toys you left behind after moving.  It makes you feel like that little girl again.  It only worsens your angst.  “Tomorrow is going to be the worst day of my life,” you say. 

“Aw, no, no, it won’t,” Jeongin says. 

“Hey, baby, don’t cry,” Hyunjin also says.  They both speak in the sweetest tones imaginable, gazing so lovingly into their cameras it makes you melt. 

“You know you’re better than that,” Jeongin says.    

“Yeah, who cares what they think?” Hyunjin adds. 

“I care,” you say in a small voice, looking away again because you feel so embarrassed.  “At least a little bit.  I know it’s silly.” 

“It’s not,” Hyunjin says.  At the same Jeongin says, “It is but it’s fine.”  They both scowl at the camera as if frowning at each other.  It makes you laugh through your tears.  You wipe your eyes on the teddy bear again. 

“I guess it doesn’t matter now,” you say.  “I just have to face it.  It’s my own fault.  Maybe if I could just get a boyfriend for real, if I didn’t suck so much—”

“You’re perfect,” they say in unison.  It seems to make all three of you look flustered at once. 

“Seriously,” Hyunjin says while Jeongin clears his throat.  “You’re our girl.”

“Yeah, everyone is else is just stupid,” Jeongin says. 

“You only need to listen to us,” Hyunjin says. 

“Listen to me, not him,” Jeongin teases.  “He’s kinda stupid too.”

“Excuse me,” Hyunjin says in a perfectly catty voice.  Jeongin sticks his tongue out. 

Their antics make you laugh.  You rest your cheek on the teddy bear and kick your legs behind you, smiling into your screen. 

“Okay,” you say.  “In that case, just distract me until I go to bed.  It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow.” 

They both smile at you.  They waste no time obliging, launching into stories and playful bickering, making you forget about everyone and everything else.  They are your boys.  They are all you need. 

You go to bed with a smile on your face.

-

That smile is gone the next day.  You are a bundle of raw nerves all morning.  Despite the food being prepared, you cannot imagine eating, so sick to your stomach with anxiety.  Your parents ask about your boyfriend and you answer in vague replies and half-promises.  You claim he is still working but you are optimistic.  You cry your make-up off only once, which is ten times less than you thought you would. 

At least you look pretty.  You bought a new dress for the occasion, a pretty floral piece that sweeps the floor with a delicate swish.  If you are going to suffer, at least you will suffer beautifully. 

You are standing in front of the mirror, practicing lines and excuses and grimacing at all of them.  You are interrupted when your mother calls you downstairs, the first of the guests arriving.

Here goes nothing, you think. 

You take a deep gulp of air and descend the stairs, plastering a big fake smile on your face as you greet the party guests. 

They come in waves.  Cousins, aunts, uncles, neighbours, friends.  You greet everyone pleasantly.  There are so many people and so many conversations that you manage to sink into the background of every discussion, batting queries about your own private life with questions for someone else. 

You start to wonder if you worried for nothing, then someone directly asks about your boyfriend.  Not just someone, but one of the girls in your age group. 

“Your mother didn’t know much, she said you were quite evasive about it!” she says.  She is not being unkind because she currently has no reason to believe you are lying.  It will be later, when everyone realizes this mystery man is not manifesting, then everyone will start to gossip and draw conclusions.  This is just the beginning of a long, agonizing party.  “Is he going to be here?” she asks.  “I can’t wait to meet him!  He’s your first boyfriend, right?” 

You love your mom, but she really is such a blabbermouth. 

You laugh awkwardly, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. 

“Ha-ha, yeah, I was, um, just waiting for the, uh, right person, you know,” you say. 

Someone else opens their mouth to ask more when the doorbell rings.  

“Oh, I better get that!” you say and leap out of your seat.  You give no one a chance to protest, scampering around bodies to get out of the backyard and into the house.  You run past your father who is ambling to the door, telling him you got it.  You want to let the guest inside then stand in the front yard to catch your breath.  Hopefully, by the time you go back, the conversation will have moved on. 

You swing open the door, a polite greeting on your lips.  It catches when you see who is standing there.

“Jeongin!” you exclaim. 

Your best friend is standing on your porch, grinning that big cheshire cat smile. He is an absurdly sexy vision.  Jeongin is a tech guy but he takes modelling gigs on the side, fashion a personal hobby to him.  His auburn hair is neatly styled around his face, a slash of colour in an otherwise all-black look.  It makes him look long and fit, loose pants and a dress shirt over a sleeveless top, topped with a leather jacket.  A silver chain sparkles around his neck. 

He swoops in and kisses your cheek, giggling to himself. 

“I heard someone needed a boyfriend,” he says. 

You laugh a little hysterically, all the joy returning to your body in a rush.  You slap your hands on your hot cheeks and look him up-and-down. 

“Oh, wow,” you say.  “You shouldn’t have.  But you look really good.”

Your eyes are on the tip of his black boots.  He is looking at you too, his eyebrows lifted as his gaze travels down your body. 

“Yeah,” he says on a breath.  “You too.”

Flustered, you cover yourself then swat at him.  It makes him grin again, cheek dimpled. 

“Stop that,” you say.  “You’re not allowed to say things like that to me.  And I’ve been sweating like a stuck pig under here.  I feel like I should do the grown-up thing and come clean and send you away, but I’m not gonna do that. Come on.”  You loop your arm with his elbow and drag him through the house to the back yard. 

Seconds before joining the party, he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Then as your boyfriend, I’m allowed to tell you that you looking really fucking good.  Okay?” 

You very literally fall into the yard.  Fortunately, Jeongin keeps his balance and yanks you upright.  You stumble into his open arms, your back plastered to his chest.  He is probably smiling that big grin at everyone as he keeps his arms around you.

“Hi,” he finally says and offers a little wave. 

“Ahhh!” your mother screams more gleefully than a clown horn.  She immediately starts hollering for your father. 

“He’s inside getting some food ready, mom,” you say, covering your face in embarrassment as she scuttles up to you. 

“My goodness, my goodness,” your mother says, all but throwing you to the side to get to Jeongin.  “Oh, I’ve heard so much.  No, actually, that’s not true, I haven’t heard anything.  Tsk, crazy girl.  Always with her secrets.  But look at you, oh my, you’re so handsome!  Look at those dimples.”

“Mom!” you wail.  “Stop pinching his cheeks!” 

Someone sitting nearby tugs your skirt.  It is the girl from before and she is grinning.  He’s hot, she mouths very blatantly, winking at you.  You smile an awkward, too-wide grin, still more embarrassed than not.  Everyone is chattering, looking at you and Jeongin.  A couple others smile and give you a thumbs up.  You pretend to be very preoccupied with a speck on your dress, focussed on scratching it off so you do not have to meet any eyes. 

In the midst of all the madness, the doorbell rings again.  You hear your father inside, shouting that he will get it.

“Oh, hurry up!” your mother shouts.  “You have to meet—oh goodness, what is your name?” she asks, even while she has a hand in his hair. 

“Ha, ah, Jeongin,” he says, managing to politely extricate himself.  He takes her hand and pats it affectionately.  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says, then winks at you.  Your mother looks at you with a delighted smile.  You refrain from smacking your forehead. 

At least things can’t get worse, you think, right before things get worse. 

Your father steps into the yard, smiling a big smile. 

“Ah, my little girl!” he says, waving at you.  “Your boyfriend is here!  Everybody, this is Hyunjin.” 

Your heart was racing with adrenaline a moment ago.  Now, it freezes solid.  It feels like a cement block dropping right into your gut.  You are not sure if the entire party actually goes quiet or if your ears just give up to protect you. 

You are helpless, standing stock still as your other best friend steps onto the deck behind your father.  Coincidentally and preposterously, he is dressed almost identical to Jeongin, all in black with a black leather jacket.  He is wearing sunglasses, though, which he pushes onto the top of his head when he sees Jeongin. 

Jeongin stares back at him, then he looks at you.  Hyunjin looks at you.  Your mother looks at you.  Everyone looks at you.

“Um,” you squeak.  

Wow, that speck on your dress really is so very interesting.  And why is it so hard to swallow?  Where is your tongue again?  Oh, why did you ever have to tell such a stupid lie, just for a few moments of convenience.

You clear your throat and look up.  Your voice comes in a croak when you say, “Hi, Hyunjin.” 

“Hyunjin,” your mother says, looking at him.  He blinks at her.  Jeongin is handsome but Hyunjin is the definitive pretty boy, an artist behind the camera but just as suited to a life in the spotlight.  His artistic soul really shines through in every capacity.  Even his smile is a work of art, delicate and sweet as he looks at your mother.  He would have made a perfect fake boyfriend if you didn’t already have one. 

Somehow you went from no boyfriends to two.  No, not even, because they are fake.  You went from no boyfriends to negative-two boyfriends.  That must be a feat. 

“Ohhhh,” your mother suddenly interrupts the silence.  She starts giggling as she tip-toes to Hyunjin like a panther about to pounce.  “I see what’s happening,” she says, looking slyly between the three of you.  Then she grabs Hyunjin by the cheeks as well, shaking him around like a baby rattle.  “My little girl has TWO handsome boyfriends!” she cries out ecstatically.  “Oh, that’s just like her too.  You know, she was a late bloomer in every respect, but always caught up and surpassed everyone after the fact.  Struggled at school when she was little, then grew up and got herself on the dean’s list at university.  You know she didn’t even grow breasts until she was eighteen then ballooned right up, the biggest you’ve seen!”

“Mom!”

Jeongin and Hyunjin look at your chest at the same time.  You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, making them both clear their throat and look away. 

“Oh, sweetie,” your mother says, finally freeing Hyunjin.  He and Jeongin stand together, rubbing their cheeks.  They watch as your mother takes your hand.  “I understand now why you were to hesitant to give us any details.  But it’s a brave new world.  There’s all sorts of different loves out there.  I’ve been reading books!” 

“Exactly,” your father says, joining you in the middle of the party.  “We would never judge you for who you love.”

“That’s great,” you say.  This conversation would be really sweet if it wasn’t about your negative-two boyfriends and happening in front of fifty people.  “Thanks,” you say. 

Your father is holding barbeque tongs.  He claps them in the air and smiles.

“Great!” he says.  “Who’s hungry!”

-

It isn’t until much later that you get a second alone with Hyunjin and Jeongin.  It is well after dinner when the sun is starting to set and the party has dispersed to different corners of the yard.  Your parents are with some friends, seated around a fire, so you drag your fake boyfriends into the house and upstairs to your bedroom. 

You slam the door shut.   

“Seriously!” you shriek.  “You didn’t think to tell each other you were going to show up to be my fake boyfriend?!” 

They both look chagrined, Jeongin with his arms crossed and Hyunjin rocking on the balls of his feet.  They look at each other with a grimace, then try to smile at you.

“Don’t give me that look,” you say, then groan, leaning against your closed door.  You cover your face with your hands.  “This is insane.  My life is a joke.  Hwang Hyunjin, don’t even think about touching anything.”  You point to Hyunjin even though your eyes are covered.  You don’t need to see him to know he is reaching for something, always sticking his gossipy nose in places it doesn’t belong.  When you drop your hands, you catch him hovering near your head table.  He smiles nervously.  “Sit down,” you say, unamused.   

Jeongin and Hyunjin plop onto the bed at the same time.  They look rather ridiculous in the black and leather, contrasted to all the pink and white lace of your old bedroom.  Ridiculous, yes, and definitely not stupidly sexy.  The contrast between two sexy bad boys and your floral cuteness is absolutely not a turn-on.  It’s not.  No.  No.  You refuse. 

“Sorry,” Jeongin finally says.  “We should have checked first.  With you, at least.”

“Yeah, baby, seriously,” Hyunjin says, shaking his head.  “I feel really embarrassed.  You know we would never want to hurt you, right?”

“You were just crying so much,” Jeongin says. 

“Yeah, I couldn’t sleep at all last night,” Hyunjin says.

They keep speaking in their defense.  You start to pout, feeling guilty, because they are so sincere in their apology.  It is very obvious they did not do this to embarrass you.  The complete opposite.  Your friends love you so much and it is obvious in everything they do.  From the day you met them, Jeongin and Hyunjin have happily dropped everything to help you with anything.  No task has ever been too big or too small.  If it’s for you, they will do it.  You are the exception to every rule and the first call every time.  

They are your boys.  You are their girl.   

“I’m sorry too,” you say.  “In fact, I’m even more sorry.  This whole thing is my fault, after all.  I should have never lied in the first place.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jeongin says.

“Yeah, we all do stupid things,” Hyunjin says. 

“It’s not like you knew it would get this bad,” Jeongin adds. 

“I definitely don’t think she predicted this,” Hyunjin quips, looking at him.  It makes Jeongin snort and Hyunjin grins. 

It makes you laugh as well, though you cover your mouth to hide it. 

It’s no good.  Once the first giggle escape, they are relentless.  The three of you laugh until there are tears in your eyes, doubled over as the silly situation washes over you.  When the laughter has somewhat subdued, Hyunjin holds out a hand in offering. 

“Come here,” he says. 

You take his hand and he tugs you towards them.  You find yourself squished between them, framed between their bodies like a little flower.  Jeongin puts a hand on your lower back and Hyunjin brushes his knuckles over your cheek.  Both touches are innocent but the combination has your face heating.

Not just your face.  Heat rushes everywhere, cascading down your chest, swooping in your belly and lower.  Your toes even curl. 

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Hyunjin says.  He smiles while holding your gaze. “You know we’ll help you no matter what, okay?” 

Jeongin kisses your shoulder and you cannot hide your shiver.

“Okay,” you say in a small voice.    

There is a moment of tense silence after this.  You look between them and they look at you.

You all jump when there is a knock at your door.  Hyunjin falls right off the bed, sprawling in an ungainly clatter of long limbs on the floor.  Jeongin scoots to the side, less dramatic but still surprised.  You sit straighter.  Hyunjin groans and rubs his head. 

The door opens and your mother pokes her head inside, smiling. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” she says.  “But sweetie, there will be time to be alone with your boyfriends later, since I assume they’re spending the night.  But right now we have company.  Come spend time with the guests.  Some of the others are using the hot tub and pool.  Do you boys need swim trunks? Yes? I’ll go find some, give me a second.”

No one gets an opportunity to even answer.  She closes the door and disappears as quickly as she came. 

There is another beat of silence, then Jeongin says, “We’re spending the night, I guess?” 

“Ow,” Hyunjin says.  “I think I bruised my elbow.”

“Oh my god,” you say.

-

You putter around the poolside until the sun fully sets.  When it gets dark, the pool lights start to flicker in rainbow patterns so the others gravitate there, splashing through the luminescence.   

You and the boys wander to the hot tub while it is empty.  Jeongin sinks right in like he does not even feel the heat while Hyunjin has to make a dramatic show about every inch of skin that touches it.  You and Jeongin look at each other with matching quirked eyebrows.  You smile affectionately. 

“What? It’s hot,” Hyunjin says, finally sitting. 

“That is how they work,” Jeongin replies.    

You giggle but also drop your gaze.  Your mother managed to find swim clothes that would mostly fit the boys.  Jeongin is shirtless in swim trunks, his wet hair slicked back, that handsome face and all those lean muscles on display.  When did he get so damn fit?  He was always athletic in a subtle, svelte way, but his arms and back ripple with definition now. 

Hyunjin is in a wet suit, one that stops at the knee and elbow.  He is more covered but the solid black swimsuit makes him look so long and lean.  His hair is also damp.  You watch as he rakes his fingers through it, tucking it behind his ears.  He really is absurdly good looking. 

You blame the heat under your skin on the jets. 

“Psst,” Jeongin suddenly whispers.  His foot nudges yours under the water.  “Is that them?” he whispers. 

You try to be subtle, turning your head to see who is there.  A few younger people are sitting in some pool chairs under a torch, chatting and occasionally glancing in your direction.  It is a few of the people you grew up with, the ones you told the boys about. 

You nod at Jeongin, smiling shyly.  You look down at your legs through the rippled distortion of water.  You are wearing a simple one-piece, just as pink and floral as your dress, still a contrast to your boys. 

You look at them in time to catch a mutual nod.  You were spread around the hot tub, a reach of space between your bodies, but they slide until they are pressed up on either side of you.  You look between them, curling your hands in nervous fists on your chest. 

“What is it?” you whisper. 

“We’re your boyfriends,” Hyunjin whispers with a smile.  “Shouldn’t we sit close to you?” 

“Oh,” you squeak.  “I suppose that’s true.”  You swallow, looking at him then at Jeongin.  Your heart is pounding against your hands.  The combination of heat and desire is making you more than a little dizzy.  “Wh-what else should we be doing?” you ask before thinking twice.  Vocalizing your internal thought only intensifies your fantasies, your mind supplying plenty of mental images of what you would be doing in this hot tub if they were really your boyfriends. 

Oh, you are definitely getting dizzy, but it is not just the jets. 

Hyunjin and Jeongin look at each other, both of them surprised by your forward question.  Jeongin laughs because that is his instinct, that dimple never shy.  Hyunjin has more of a smirk than a smile.  He pokes his tongue into his cheek and lifts his eyebrows when you look at him.  It is a teasing expression.  It makes you dissolve into nervous giggles, sinking lower into the water. 

He grabs you before you can disappear under the surface.  And it is a grab.  Between Hyunjin and Jeongin, you always suspected Hyunjin would be a gentle lover.  He is so gushy and romantic while Jeongin tends be more frank about things.  But it is Jeongin who gently strokes a hand down your arm, who laces his fingers with yours and squeezes. 

Hyunjin reaches right under the water, stopping your descent with a hand on the back of your neck.  Your eyes widen as he yanks you up, not choking but certainly in control.  Your mouth falls open with surprise.  Much to your embarrassment, you moan before he even kisses you, the sound escaping of its own volition as he tilts his head and leans in. 

Oh, his mouth is gentle even if he is not.  His hand is on your jaw, firm, holding your face where he wants it, but his lips are so soft and warm.  He kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth and sighing against your lips.  You steal a breath as well, your mouth open against his.  That breath catches when Jeongin kisses the nape of your neck, then your shoulder. 

They both have big hands, long fingers, slender but strong.  You melt between them, all heat and need. 

You turn to Jeongin, breathless with desire.  His eyes are dark, lids heavy.  You have never seen such intensity on his usually smiling face. 

You are ready to kiss him when some playful shouts erupt from the audience you forgot about.  “Get it girl!” someone shouts. 

“Oh my god,” you say.  Distracted, you reach behind you, grasping for nothing in particular when you find something, indeed.  Jeongin is rock hard in his swim trunks and your hand brushes the very decent length of him. 

You snap your hand back to yourself, jaw dropping.

“Why are you hard?” you whisper harshly.

“What do you mean, why am I hard?” he whispers back, just as argumentatively.  “We’re all making out in a hot tub.  Of course I’m hard.” 

“Hyunjin’s not hard!” you hiss. 

You look over your shoulder.  Hyunjin is staring up into the air at nothing, looking a little too inconspicuous.

“Hyunjin!” you cry. 

“What?” he returns, also whispering sharply.  “Are you saying you’re not turned on?” 

“I—hmmph—you—no!”

“No?” he asks with a sharp tilt of his head. 

“So,” Jeongin says, drawing your narrowed gaze back to him.  He just smiles at you.  “If we put our hands somewhere here,” his fingers skim your upper thigh and you jump, “we wouldn’t find…?” 

You sputter helplessly but it does no good; you have no retaliation whatsoever.  You look at Hyunjin but he’s no help, just smirking at you.  He wiggles his fingers in a little wave and you feel flushed again. 

“I’m leaving now,” you say and finally sink under the water while they laugh. 

-

You step into your bedroom at the end of a very long day.  The guests have all gone home.  Your parents, for reasons your mother strangely explained, are staying at the neighbour’s house tonight.   You are very aware of the privacy it offers, the air rife with possibility. 

Your boys are in your bed, wearing boxers and sleeveless shirts and bickering about the size of the quilt.  They stop yanking on the blankets when you appear. 

You did not bring much sleepwear.  You figured you would wear the old shirts left behind in this room.  You have outgrown most of them, but that wasn’t a problem with you were sleeping alone.  Now you are wearing old gym shorts that sit very high up your thighs, a little shirt pulled taut across your ample chest, and your friends are staring at you, their previous conversation completely forgotten. 

You cross your arms and stomp to the bed, feigning indifference.  You crawl over a startled Hyunjin to get to the middle, flopping into the little column of space they left for you.

“Good night,” you say. 

Hyunjin turns off the bedside light.  The three of you are laying on top of the covers, on your backs, stiff as boards.  Your arms are still crossed over your chest in a totally unnatural position.  You refuse to look around, counting every little popcorn freckle in the ceiling design. 

“You kissed him,” Jeongin says, his voice so loud in the silence. 

You feel Hyunjin look over, hear the turn of his head on the pillow.  You cast your eyes to either side but do not turn your head.  There is already a skip in your heartbeat and you cannot encourage it. 

“What?” you ask. 

“You kissed him,” Jeongin says.  You feel him roll onto his side, facing you.  “You didn’t kiss me.”

You brace yourself then turn your head, looking at him with every intention of telling him that you did it in the heat of the moment.  But he is gazing you, his head propped up on his arm, that god-forsaken bicep flexed again. 

You shake your head and look at the ceiling.

“Yes, I did,” you say.  “What should we do about it?”

“Kiss him,” Hyunjin says.  You look at him.  He is also propped up, leaning back on his elbow. He looks at you with an expression that offers a challenge, asking, Well? What are you waiting for?      

“Fine,” you say, then slowly turn to Jeongin.  “Only because that’s fair.” 

Jeongin does not hesitate.  He is not as firm Hyunjin but he does not need to be.  Long, steady fingers slide across your shoulder and cup the back of your head.  He draws you into him, kissing your cheek before your lips. 

You quickly lose yourself.  Your eyes close and it feels like taking flight, or maybe falling.  Yes, falling helplessly head over heels.  You have been for a long time. 

You cannot help but make a few wanting sounds.  Jeongin’s body is so different to yours, all hard planes and firm muscle against your softer spots.  His hand finds your waist and he pulls you even closer, kissing you long and slow like he is pacing himself, like he plans to kiss you for hours. 

That hand wanders from your waist, sliding lower until he is cupping your ass.  Your breath catches and the kiss breaks.  He is quick to dive back in, kissing you deeper the second time, his tongue touching yours. 

You grab his arm, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. When he leans in again, Hyunjin reaches out and shoves his shoulder.  Jeongin blinks up at him, surprised. 

“That was two kisses,” Hyunjin says.  “My turn.” 

Hyunjin grabs your shoulder and pulls you onto your back.  You land with a soft thump, still intoxicated from kissing Jeongin. 

You blink up at Hyunjin, your chest heaving with breath as his eyes roam down your body.  His fingers follow the same trail, knuckles at your chin then the curve of your chest.  You arch your back instinctively.  Everything seems to throb when his fingers brush the front of your shorts.  It is a momentary touch, then he is cupping your cheek and turning your face and kissing you. 

Just last night, you were in this bed alone, fantasizing this very thing.  You ended the phone call but you were wide awake, so you put on some music and grabbed your vibrator and lost yourself to the impossible fantasy now entering reality. 

In your fantasies, one or both of them was on top of you.  But Hyunjin surprises you with the opposite, taking hold of your hips and tugging.  You follow his direction clumsily until you are straddling his lap.  He is hard between your legs, holding you there against him while he cups the back of your head and kisses you. 

You can’t believe you thought Hyunjin was a romantic little angel.  He is an absolute demon, rolling his hips under you with the same unhurried pace Jeongin used.  You are so wet and turned-on, so delirious with need, for a second it feels like there is nothing between you, just the hard shape of him against your softness.  But no, there are thin layers of fabric between you, stretched so tight it is like they are not there. 

Jeongin curves his hand over the shape of your ass.  Your shorts are riding up from your position.  He could get an eye-ful at the right angle. 

“You’re so…” he says, but his breath catches like there is no word to do you justice.  It makes you look at him, your eyes locking in intensity. 

It ends when Hyunjin rolls, laying you onto your back again.  Then he sits back, leaving you there in a breathless pant. 

“What do you think about?” he asks.

You make a noise back at him.  It is supposed to be a question but it comes out garbled.  You shake your head, then manage to ask, “Huh?  Think about?”

He sits up and reaches into your bedside drawer.  You come to coherency when he takes out your vibrator. 

“Hyunjin!”  You cannot help but scold him.  “I told you to stay out of there!” 

“You know I like to investigate,” he argues.  “I can’t help it.” 

“Oh my god,” you say, slapping your forehead.  “I swear to god, it’s like being friends with a crow.”

Jeongin sits up too, laughing so much he has to cover his face.  He shakes his head as he comes up for a breath, pushing his hair out of his face. 

“Stop laughing,” you say, even while a few giggles escape. 

Jeongin just grins at you, then he reaches out and touches traces his thumb across your smile. 

“Are you going to answer?” Hyunjin asks. 

You look at him and snatch the vibrator back, clutching it possessively to your chest. 

“That’s none of your business,” you say.

“It could be,” he says, expression getting darker by the second, a playful smile turning to a dirty smirk.  He runs his teeth across his bottom lip then bats his eyelashes.  “If you think about us,” he finishes. 

“I—no—you—”

“It’s fine,” he says.  “It’s normal.  I think about you.” 

“Hyunjin,” you gasp.  You go to whack him with the vibrator then remember what it is.  You hold it against your chest again, embarrassed.  Hot in the face and everywhere else, you sputter more indignantly than you feel, “There’s nothing to think about with me.”

He looks at you like he can’t believe you are serious, his eyes dropping down your body then back up.  He laughs, covering a hand over his mouth. 

“Last night I thought plenty,” he says with a wave of his hand. “I wondered if you could come so hard it would make you cry.  I bet you’d look pretty.” 

You swallow hard.  Your hands are getting clammy, clutching the toy.  You cannot even fake any indignance, so turned on it is making your head spin. 

“That’s rude,” you say in a rasping voice, “I was crying and you were—”

“I waited to touch myself, thank you,” he teases. 

“Jeongin wouldn’t do that,” you say, looking back at him.  He is staring up at the ceiling, blinking too quickly and too innocently.  “Jeongin!” you exclaim. 

Hyunjin laughs some more, a gleeful little cackle behind his hand.  You huff dramatically, trying and failing to frown at them. 

“My friends are perverts,” you say. 

Hyunjin is reclining in an insouciant slouch.  Jeongin is sitting upright behind you.  You look between them as they look at each other, seemingly conversing through nothing but a series of blinks.  Jeongin smiles first, winking at you when you meet his eye.  He is holding your gaze when Hyunjin moves, smooth and quick.  They crowd you, one on either side, each with a hand on your thigh. 

You make a noise, a surprised little whimper as you spill onto your back.  You clutch the toy for dear life as Jeongin strokes your inner thigh and Hyunjin’s long fingers trace your waistband.  You gasp when Hyunjin slides right in, under your shorts but over your underwear.  You are so turned on that there is no hiding it, the fabric wet under his searching fingers.

“Takes one to know one,” he says with a smile.  “Maybe that’s why we’re friends.” 

“I don’t think we’re just friends,” Jeongin says while sliding the toy out of your hands.  He turns it on and your clit pulses under Hyunjin’s fingers, trained to react to the noise. 

Hyunjin laughs, his breath on your neck.  He moves his hand while Jeongin presses the toy between your legs, over your shorts and panties but nonetheless immediately effective.  You squirm a little.  The onslaught of sensation has your thighs twitching to close. 

The boys shuffle quickly.  You find yourself sitting between Jeongin’s legs, your back against his chest.  Hyunjin kneels in front of you, holding your legs open so you cannot escape the toy’s blissful torture.  You can feel an orgasm winding up ridiculously fast.  You have not had a proper relationship but you have fooled around, but it was never like this.  Even by yourself with a toy, an orgasm would take time.  You have a breath to realize you are going to come, hard, legs spread for your boys.

It hits you quickly but deeply, rolling vibrations of pleasure that have you rearing up.  You start to cry out and Jeongin covers your mouth even though you are alone, catching the sound in his palm.   He holds the toy with his other hand, keeping it in place while Hyunjin holds your legs so you feel every tingling second of aftershocks. 

When you whine into his palm, Jeongin lets you go and turns off the toy. 

The room feels very quiet when the toy stops.  You come to reality, remembering you are in your parents’ house in your old bedroom.  Your parents might not be home but it still seems wrong to get down and dirty with your old teddy bear staring at you.

Hyunjin follows your line of sight.  He grabs the bear and turns it around.

Okay. It’s fine now. 

You twist around and grab Jeongin, kissing him roughly.  He holds you as desperately, kissing back with the same fervour.  Hyunjin gets his hands on your shorts and tugs them down.  They are only off one leg, dangling around your knee, when he dives in and starts kissing your pussy through your underwear. 

You are still sensitive from your orgasm, moaning into Jeongin’s mouth while Hyunjin torments you with his.  When he moves the material out of the way, your legs start shaking again.  Jeongin reaches down to touch you too, his fingers brushing Hyunjin’s lips.  Hyunjin sucks the taste of you off his fingertips then dives back in. 

You are caught by surprise when you come again.  Jeongin catches your cry, covering your mouth again as you shake in his arms.  A tear spills loose just from the sheer sensation of such rapid orgasms.  Your body feels like a live wire, all lightning and electric energy. 

Hyunjin kneels upright, looking at the tear running down your face.  You whimper into Jeongin’s hand when Hyunjin licks it off your cheek. 

“Knew you’d be pretty like that, baby,” he says. 

You pry Jeongin’s hand off your mouth.  It goes easily.  In the end, they follow your lead.  You know your boys.  They would do anything for you.  They would start.  They would stop.  

You do not want them to stop. 

“Fuck me,” you say, so quietly it does not even penetrate the silence.   Even so, Hyunjin slides his hand between your legs and slides two fingers right inside you, so easily because you are so wet.  Jeongin squeezes your breasts in his hands, over your shirt then tugging the fabric up and over to get his hands on your bare skin. 

“What was that?” Hyunjin asks.  He brings those wet fingers to his lips and licks your wetness off them. 

“F-fuck me,” you say, still a whisper but clearer.  “Please.” 

“Well,” Jeongin says, kissing your temple.  He smiles at Hyunjin.  “Since you asked so nicely.” 

You all tumble over, laying on your sides.  Jeongin is nestled behind you, Hyunjin in front of you.  Jeongin lifts your shirt over your head while Hyunjin finally removes everything below your waist.  You slip your hand between your thighs while they whip off their shirts and boxers.

Then it feels like their hands are everywhere.  Yours too, reaching forward for Hyunjin, reaching back for Jeongin.  You hold his hip while he rocks against you, his cock gliding along your backside. 

“I’ll go first,” Hyunjin says, manhandling you onto your back then getting up between your legs. 

“You kissed her first,” Jeongin argues, shoving him.  Hyunjin shoves him back. 

“You’re bigger,” Hyunjin says, nodding to his dick.  “I’ll get her ready.” 

You did not actually get a good look at Hyunjin’s dick before he put it inside you.  If Jeongin is bigger, you are almost worried, because Hyunjin is bigger than anything you have had down there.  You make a keening, high-pitched noise, mouth open as he presses inside you. 

Jeongin lays beside you, reaching down to rub that still-tingling bundle of nerves.  It helps, your eyes closing and head falling back.  Jeongin kisses the exposed line of your throat while Hyunjin starts moving inside you. 

“Ohh—” you say, your hands moving all over his chest.  You clutch one shoulder and reach for Jeongin with your other hand.  He guides it to his dick, helping you find a rhythm, stroking his length while Hyunjin fucks you.

It goes on for a time, then Jeongin curses, squeezing your hand around him.  He nods to Hyunjin.

“Move,” he says.  “My turn.” 

Hyunjin, panting, pushes some hair off his sweaty forehead.  He moves backwards down the bed, stepping right off.  You yelp with surprise when he grabs your legs and yanks you down the bed.  He grabs your hips and flips you over, then gestures to Jeongin. 

“Your turn,” he confirms.  They switch places, Jeongin kneeling behind you while Hyunjin kneels in front of you.  You get up on your elbows, lifting your hips while Jeongin thrusts in.  He wastes no time, evidently already on the brink from your ministrations.  It means your gentle lover is suddenly pounding into you, your fingers forming fists in the bedsheets, yanking the covers everywhere as you pant and moan. 

“Sooo pretty,” Hyunjin says, cupping your face in both hands.  You know what he wants without asking, opening your mouth eagerly.  You doubt it is the best head ever, especially considering half your attention is on Jeongin, your body moving where he wills it.  But you manage, savouring the moment and already imagining every variation of position for the future. 

You look up at Hyunjin, kissing the tip of his dick then saying in a rough voice, “I want both of you one day.”

“Fuck,” Jeongin says and immediately comes, grinding deep inside you.  Hyunjin grabs you by the neck and puts you back on his dick, murmuring a string of expletives just as colourful until he comes. 

You think it is over when Jeongin pulls out.  Cum is dribbling out of your mouth when Hyunjin sits back.  He wipes his thumb over your lips, pushing them closed. 

“You can swallow,” he says.  His touch is a suggestion, not forceful, so you could ignore it.  But you gaze up at him and swallow.

And while you are doing that, Jeongin grabs the toy and puts it back between your legs.  You almost scream, bucking when it comes to life on your dripping pussy.  Hyunjin cups your face in his hands again, stroking your cheeks while you ride the pulsing vibrations.   Another couple tears spill and he wipes them away with his thumbs, cooing sweet nothings at you the entire time. 

They wring three more orgasms out of you before you basically collapse, exerted and sweating and panting. 

“God,” you rasp, laying on your side, still breathing hard.  “I’m gonna need to get in shape for this.  Two boyfriends is no joke.” 

The three of you laugh, then you get to enjoy the spoiled princess treatment that is having one boy to cuddle while the other fetches water and a towel.  When you finally get to sleep, it is nestled safely between your boys, murmuring sweet words at each other in sleepy tones until you fall asleep. 

-

Your parents return at lunch the next day.  While Jeongin helps your father grill and Hyunjin sets the table, you help your mother prepare a side dish.  She is practically beaming at you. 

“Do I want to know why you slept at the neighbour’s last night?” you ask. 

“Oh, my sweet girl,” your mother says.  She kisses your forehead.  “I heard you on the phone the other night.  I know you lied about having a boyfriend.”

“What?!”  You look at her with alarm and surprise.  “But – but you didn’t say anything!  You acted like Jeongin was my boyfriend the second he arrived!”

“Of course!” your mother says.  “Look my dear, anyone can find a boyfriend.  Walk onto the street and throw a rock, there’s one with his head out the car window like a dog.  Easy.  Not everyone can find a man who shows up to a party and pretends to be her lover, expecting nothing in return, and doing it just because he loves her.  And you found two.” 

Your mother wraps you in her arms.  You are still surprised but you hug her back.

“I’m sorry I made you feel so pressured,” she says.  “I just worried about you all alone in the city, but now I see you’re not alone.  But, you know, I am a mother, and I saw how those boys looked at you, so I figured… well…”

“Mom!” you cry, a little mortified she intentionally set you up. 

“Did it work?” she asks with an eyebrow wiggle. 

You are laughing helplessly, shaking your head, which only makes her laugh. 

“I knew it,” she says.  “Sometimes fate just needs a hand.  Maybe two.” 

“We’re not talking about this anymore,” you say, walking away. 

“You are glowing this morning.  Maybe I should get another man too.”

“Mom, please!”  

[buddie-buddie]

It rains on the way home.

Something about it feels fitting, Buck thinks. He leans his head against the car window, staring as a large droplet snakes its way down the glass in a slow, winding trail. Outside the car, the streetlights flick on, soft halos of light reflected in the shine of the wet pavement.

The rhythmic patter of raindrops against the windshield and the steady beat of the wipers is steady and soothing, almost enough to drown out the ache in his chest.

Almost, but not quite.

The soft glow of passing headlights casts fleeting shadows inside the car as they make their way back downtown to the loft.

The night feels heavy, pressing down on him in a way he can’t shake. His mind is 800 miles away, somewhere in the suburbs of El Paso.

Tommy glances over at him from the driver’s seat, the air between them thick with things unsaid.

“You’ve been quiet,” Tommy’s voice cuts through the silence, soft and gentle in a way that makes Buck’s heart squeeze. “You want to talk about it?”

Buck swallows hard, sighs. “I don’t know,” he mutters, his voice strained. “It’s just... tonight sucked. Seeing Chris like that... not reacting, not even looking at us—” He cuts himself off, draws in a deep, shaky breath. “I know he’s hurting. I know it’s between him and Eddie. But it feels like... like…” he trails off, unable to find the words to properly articulate the ache that’s settled deep inside his chest.

“Like he’s pulling away from you, too,” Tommy finishes for him, his voice gentle but certain.

Buck glances at Tommy, a flicker of something passing through his tired eyes—relief, maybe, at being understood. Tommy’s hand moves from the steering wheel to rest gently on Buck’s thigh, a welcome, reassuring warmth. His thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle against the fabric of Buck’s jeans, grounding him with the simple touch.

“Yeah,” Buck breathes. “And Eddie... God, I hate seeing him like that. He was trying so hard, and Chris...”

Tommy’s eyes flick between the road and Buck’s face, reading him effortlessly. “I know,” he says. “This is… it’s hard right now. But it’s not forever.”

Buck lets out another shaky breath, his chest tight. It’s not just about Christopher practically ignoring them tonight. It’s deeper than that— seeing Eddie struggle, watching helplessly as his own bond with Chris starts to fade, feeling the sting of that loss himself. It hurts in a way he can’t quite describe.

He leans back in his seat, closing his eyes as he swallows down the lump in his throat.

Tommy parks outside of Buck’s building, but he doesn’t make a move to get out. Instead, he turns to face Buck properly. There’s a warmth in his eyes, something so soft and so fond, it has Buck’s heart swelling in his chest.

“Hey,” Tommy says gently, squeezing Buck’s thigh reassuringly. “He’ll come around. He’s a kid. He’s hurting, and he’s still angry, but he’s not gone forever. He needs time, and so does Eddie. But you and Chris? That bond? It’s ironclad. A rough call and a few months apart won’t even crack the foundation, let alone undo it.”

Buck closes his eyes for a moment, letting Tommy’s words ease the knot in his chest. Tommy shifts, leaning in closer, his hand moving up to the back of Buck’s neck. Buck’s shoulders slump, his breath shaky as he leans into Tommy’s touch, finally letting himself feel the weight of everything. “I just want him to be okay,” he murmurs. He’s not sure who he’s talking about— Christopher or Eddie.

Maybe both of them.

Tommy’s thumb brushes over the nape of his neck, a quiet comfort that settles something deep within Buck’s chest. “He will be,” Tommy says, pressing a soft kiss to Buck’s temple. “And you will be, too.”

For the first time all night, Buck feels a small, tentative flash of hope breaking through the heaviness still weighing on him.

His heart still breaks for Eddie, still misses Chris so much it physically hurts. But here, with Tommy, the weight of it all feels a little less crushing.

also on ao3

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Honey Girl. Chapter Seven.

chapter one. chapter two. chapter three. chapter four. chapter five. chapter six. chapter eight. chapter nine. chapter ten. series masterlist. the playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. At least, that’s what you and Bucky keep telling yourselves.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Word Count - 4.8k

Author's Note - I can only apologise for the delay on this one angels!! january blues, a crazy work schedule, writers block.. they all came to play at the same time. but chapter seven is finally here!! I hope you enjoy it. thank you for the continued love on this - words can’t describe how incredible it is.

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

“Why aren’t you more surprised?”

Stella simply shrugs, sipping her cappuccino as if she has all the time in the world.

“Babe, with all due respect… I’ve been waiting for you to initiate this conversation for like two months.”

You look at her incredulously, fiddling nervously with a chip in the handle of your coffee cup.

“…Why? How?”

She smiles softly, reaching for your hand across the table.

“You’re miserable.”

You take a deep breath, and then another. After the fifth one, you find the courage to meet her eyes.

“How did you know?”

“Because I know you. You’re a hell of an actress, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s not you-”

“I know. Hey, I know. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

“I do.”

She waits for you, patient as ever. You’d be lying if you said the guilt wasn’t eating you up, slowly but surely from the inside out. You feel like you’ve let her down, disappointing the one person who’s given you your dream.

You realise, suddenly, that you haven't told anyone the full truth about everything. Not your Mom, not your Dad, not Lacie. Your Tethering, Bucky, the move to California - all your feelings and emotions over the past how ever many months have been bottled up and stowed away on a shelf, never to be opened. But you have the urge, now, to unscrew the cap and pour it out across the table, regardless of the mess.

So, you do.

"It's not you. You've given me everything I could have ever wanted, Stel, and I couldn't be more grateful. You know that, right?"

She nods, squeezing your hand.

"It's just been hard... emotionally. So, I, the thing is, I just..."

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

"I'm Tethered. I have a soulmate, and he lives back home. We found out literally right before you called me and asked about the business. I couldn't turn you down, I knew that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I couldn't just let it pass me by. I knew we could do this, me and you, together. And I thought I’d be able to cope.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“Being away from Bucky has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. It’s like… I can’t breathe properly without him. Food isn’t as flavourful, colours aren’t as bright, the sun isn’t as warm. The separation is actually having physical effects that I’m not sure I can handle anymore.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’ve held out for as long as I possibly can. I was hoping that maybe it’d pass, that we’d get used to it and it’d all wear off. But it hasn’t. If anything, it’s worse than ever. The separation is ruining us both.”

You inhale. You hold it for five seconds. You exhale.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re going to tell me not to apologise, but I am. I’m sorry. You’ve given me everything and I’m just… quitting on you. I love this job so much, Stella. I can’t even find the words to describe how much. But I think either me or Bucky will break soon. And I have to prevent that from happening.”

You inhale.

Stella looks at you with so much compassion, you fight the urge to burst into tears.

You exhale.

“Listen to me, okay? You are one of the best damn bakers I have ever met in my life. No one in culinary school even came close to you. I always knew that I wanted you on my team, by my side, in my corner - in the kitchen, and everywhere else. But-"

You chew your bottom lip, wincing when you taste copper.

“We don’t have to be in each other’s pockets. We can be business partners and not see each other everyday. These are the joys of modern technology, babe. We can call, text, video chat, and then schedule in person meetings when we can. If anyone can make a cross country partnership work, it’s us. I mean, come on.”

The weight lifts from your shoulders, slowly but surely. A glowing, molten warmth trickles through your veins, hopeful and real and alive.

“And this,” she picks up your business plan, all printed and pretty. “This is air fucking tight. I’m not saying you picked the wrong career, but… business could definitely be your Plan B.”

You laugh, ignoring the way your voice cracks slightly, still choked with emotion.

“Babe, I was going to franchise the business eventually anyway. Sure, this is a little earlier than I first thought, but why the hell not? We’re successful, we’ve done so well… what’s stopping us? We know we can do this. And I trust you. So much.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, easing your death grip on her hand ever so slightly. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything.”

“You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you. This is a good thing.”

She thinks for a moment, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly, she grins at you, nosy and mischievous.

“So a soulmate, huh?”

You groan, burying your face in your hands - but you can’t fight the smile that spreads across your cheeks.

“Yeah. It’s been… complicated.”

“He’s that super hot guy that came to see you, right? The one that looks like he could be a model?”

Laughing, you nod, making mental note to relay this to Bucky on the phone later.

“How did it happen? Was it like, a stranger on the street moment?”

“Nope,” you recall fondly. “We knew each other already. He’s my Dad’s best friend.”

Her jaw drops open, eyes flickering across your face.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Holy shit, babe.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s amazing. Shit, no wonder you’ve been under so much stress. What did your Dad say?”

“He… doesn’t know.”

“What?”

“We need to tell him, I know we do, but it’s just so complicated. I’m worried that it’ll change everything, and not for the better.”

It’s been eating away at you, lately. The fact that your parents don’t know originally made perfect sense, but now? It’s been almost a year. You’ve never kept anything from them for that long. Now, you’re worried that you’ll never be able to undo the damage of lying and keeping secrets from the two people you always promised never to do that to.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly qualified to give out soulmate advice, but... you can't change this. It's literally been written in the stars. Your parents will understand, okay? But the longer you wait to tell them, the worse it'll be."

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just - it’s tough. It’s gonna change everything, forever.”

“But isn’t that the beauty of it? It’s going to change everything, forever.”

You jump out of your seat and wrap your arms around Stella, holding onto her as tightly as you can. She hugs you back fiercely, speaking a thousand words without saying anything at all.

“Proud of you,” she murmurs into your hair.

“For what?” you laugh.

“Putting yourself first. Your health, your mental wellbeing, all of it. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Love you,” you whisper, fighting back tears of relief.

“Love you too, my baker extraordinaire.”

You sit back down and take a breath, deep and full. Relaxing into your chair, you allow yourself to finally think about the next steps.

“So, I was thinking about going home and scouting out locations. I have that list of places that you read over in the business plan, but I thought of a couple more last night a few miles further out. I’ve pre prepped a few days worth of our best sellers, so you should be good without me.”

“Of course, babe. I’ve circled a couple where I really liked the look of the listings you’ve printed, and written a couple of notes for you to look over - just logistical stuff. Go back home, see your family and your soulmate,” she smirks, raising her eyebrows suggestively, “and just relax. God knows the stress lately has taken a couple years off your life. Please, get those years back on the beach or with your man or something.”

You laugh, shaking your head. She’s right, though. The stress has been resting stagnant in your muscles, tight and wound, making everything harder. You can’t wait to sit on the sand in Bucky’s arms and feel the tension melt from your body.

“You’re the best, Stella. You know that right?”

“So I’ve been told. Many, many times.”

Hours later, Bucky watches you on video call, laptop propped up on the dresser as you pack your bags excitedly. He hasn’t stopped smiling since he picked up, anticipation of the future lighting up his bones.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You show up at your parents house without warning.

You thought about calling first, but decided it’d be much more fun to surprise them. It’s a Friday evening, and you know they’ll both be sat out on the back deck, drinking wine and recapping their weeks. It’s getting warmer on the East Coast, the sounds of spring and summer slowly filtering through.

Your Mom throws open the door, her face lighting up with glee.

“Babygirl!”

She throws her arms around you, rocking you back and forth so forcefully you’re worried you might fall over.

“My baby,” she exclaims, beaming grin almost blinding you. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a long story. I’ll tell you all about it.”

She grabs your face in her hands, forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You nod, smiling as the setting sun warms your back.

“Yeah, Mama. I am.”

She believes you. For the first time in a long time, you believe you too.

“Come on. Your Dad is gonna be so excited to see you.”

You leave your bags in the car, prioritising seeing the man who’s currently shaking his hips to the soft salsa music that’s playing.

“Nice moves, Casanova.”

He whips his head around, laughing when he sees you stood against the doorframe watching.

“You like em? I need a partner, babygirl! Come on!”

He grabs your hands, pulling you further into the yard so you have more space. You take up a terrible ballroom dance posture with him, cackling as he dips you backwards and almost drops you.

“Don’t kill my baby, please Jack!” your Mom calls from the kitchen window.

She returns with a glass of pink wine in her hand, gesturing for you to come and get it. Your Dad spins you over to her, steadying your shoulders when you trip over his shoes.

“It’s like The Universe knew you were coming to us tonight, darling. We opened the strawberry wine and everything.”

“My favourite.”

You get comfy on the loveseat, sitting across from your parents who are pressed together on the outdoor sofa. The wine is sweet and sugary and exactly what you needed.

“So, what are you doing here, kiddo?”

“It’s a little… complicated. But the good kind of complicated, I think.”

You start at the beginning. Well, almost. You leave out the part about finding Bucky, waiting for him to be with you when you tell that part of the story. You agreed that you’d talk to your parents about your relationship together, and you’re not about to break that promise. You do, however, explain everything else to them.

They listen carefully, nodding and smiling to let you know they’re still with you. When you talk about the difficulties you’ve faced, they wear matching frowns as your Mom fights back tears. Eventually, you sit in silence, waiting for their reaction.

“I wish you’d said something sooner.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just… I thought I could do it on my own.”

“Honey, you never have to go through anything alone. That’s what we’re here for - we’re like, your built in therapists. Both me and your Dad would have happily listened if you’d called us, no matter the time or place.”

“Thank you. Both of you.”

“So this means you’re moving home?”

You nod, trying to contain the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

“Well it’s a good job we didn’t end up renting your apartment, huh?”

“You didn’t?”

“We thought about it, but it didn’t feel right. And we wanted to see you settle down in California first, just in case. I don’t either of us were ready to see someone else in that place. It’s yours.”

“You big softie,” you tease, nudging your Dad with your foot. He grabs it and squeezes, laughing when you squirm out of his grip.

“Well this is a cause for celebration, isn’t it?”

When you were younger, you used to get embarrassed that your Mom would throw parties for everything. Now, it’s one of your favourite things about her. She’s taught you to embrace the joy of the little things in life.

“What are you thinking, Mama?”

“Tomorrow night, a few friends. I’ll make a big paella, we can drink wine, play cards… what do you say?”

“Sounds perfect.”

And it does. The ease of being back home has calmed you down, untied the knots in your shoulders. You feel warmed by love, from the inside out.

You leave your parent’s house, promising to make a dessert of some kind for tomorrow. As you drive away, you suddenly realise that you’re headed in the wrong direction. You’re not going home. You’re going to the person that feels like home.

Bucky.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

He’s waiting for you on his front porch when you pull up.

“Hi, honey baby.”

“Hi, handsome.”

You launch yourself into his arms, savouring the warmth rolling off of him in waves. He smells like fresh linen and sea salt and all your future plans.

“You felt me coming, didn’t you?”

“From a mile off.”

He’s grinning, beaming in all directions.

“Good job it wasn’t a surprise visit, huh?”

“There’s no such thing anymore.”

“Good.”

He grabs your face in his work rough hands, gazing at you as if you’re the sun. You realise, suddenly, that you are. You are the one thing that his world revolves around. And he is yours. Forever.

“You gonna kiss me, Buck, or just stare at me, hmm?”

He chuckles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You sigh in contentment and pull him closer by his shirt, tilting your head back to let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like scotch and spearmint, a perfect picture of his evening.

“Have you been drinking alone, cowboy?”

“Needed some liquid courage. Knew you’d come by.”

“I make you nervous, huh?”

The filthy smirk written across your face sends electricity crackling across his skin, the hairs on his arms standing up.

“Thought you’d have figured that out by now.”

“You’re really blowing up my ego, you know. I make the Bucky Barnes nervous. Who’d have thought?”

He shuts you up by kissing you again, snaking his hands around your back to plaster your bodies together. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on it slightly.

“You’re letting your hair grow.”

“You like it long.”

You stop for a moment, watching his face carefully.

“Yeah. I do. How’d you know?”

“You pull it more when it’s long. Can feel how much you like it.”

“You’re a menace,” you laugh. “How about you take me inside, and I’ll show you just how much I like it? Unless you wanna give your neighbours front row seats…”

He chuckles and shakes his head before throwing you over his shoulder, laughing harder when you start shrieking. He carries you over the threshold, a beautiful prediction of years to come.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Bucky spend the evening in his kitchen with the windows open, watching the setting sun. The gentle ocean breeze flows through the room, tussling Bucky’s chocolate brown hair and glinting off the ice in his rocks glass.

“You want me to come with you tomorrow, when you scout locations? I’ll be your chauffeur, if you like.”

“What about work?”

“I’m the boss, baby.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

He kicks you lightly under the table, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.

“Yeah, Buck. I’d love it if you came with. You can use your contractor knowledge and help me out.”

“It’s a date. You want me to bring my clipboard? Tape measure? Mechanical pencil?”

“You gonna bring your talking machinery too, Bob The Builder?”

Bucky stands from his chair and pulls yours out, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. He spins you around before putting you down and dragging you up the stairs, kicking his bedroom door open.

He throws you onto the bed unceremoniously, chuckling when you almost bounce off. You toss your shirt at his face, before shucking off your jeans and doing the same thing. He catches them with ease, winking at you before undressing himself.

He crawls up your body, kissing any skin he can find as he goes. He starts at your ankle, before moving to your knee, your thigh, your hip, your stomach, your chest, your neck, and eventually your lips. You’re almost shaking, alive with the anticipation of having every inch of Bucky pressed against you.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he rasps into your ear. “I’ll give it to you. Anything.”

“Just want you.”

“Need to get you ready first,” he murmurs, fingers trailing between your legs. His breath hitches when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh honey,” he groans. “You been like this all night? Hmm?”

“Since I first saw you waiting for me.”

He groans again, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

“Please, Buck. Just wanna feel you.”

Who is he to deny you when you ask so damn pretty?

“You’re killing me,” he mutters against your skin.

Bucky slides into you with one smooth thrust, biting down on your shoulder as he does it. You shudder at the feeling, and at the thought of having the imprint of his teeth on you later.

You both gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in to you. You loop your legs around his waist, heels digging into his ass to press him even closer.

“Fuck me,” you choke out. “Need it, Buck.”

“My needy girl,” he chuckles lowly. “Gonna give you everything.”

Bucky retracts his hips before thrusting back into you, deep and full. You whine, and he’s convinced the sound will never be matched. It’s like angel song, rose tinted and heavenly.

He fucks you into the mattress, long, slow thrusts that make you want to cry a little. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so connected to him - every single part of you touching his, bodies plastered together and souls intertwined.

He presses open mouthed kisses into the crook of your neck, right into your sweet spot. When he feels you getting close, he dances his fingers down your body and circles your clit, languid but precise. Your back arches as you find your release, clawing your nails down his back and locking your ankles around his hips.

“Oh fuck, honey - fuck.”

Bucky finishes with a shudder, sinking his teeth back into your shoulder. His raspy groans hit your ears just right, sweat dripping down onto your dewy skin.

“Love you, baby. Fuck, I love you.”

You’re both panting, trying to catch your breath as you come down from your highs.

“I love you too,” you giggle, pressing kisses to his damp forehead.

He collapses his weight onto you, chuckling when you groan. You push him off so he can lie next to you, strong arm thrown over your stomach as he pulls you in close.

You stay tangled for a while, letting the breeze from the window cool you both down. Bucky traces absentminded patterns across your back, rough fingertips sending goosebumps over your skin.

“I’m excited for tomorrow,” you murmur, keeping the volume low.

“Me too. Feels like a big step for our future, doesn’t it?”

“I just never imagined I’d have… this. You, the job I’ve always dreamed of… it doesn’t feel real. I mean, we’re going to look at places for a second location of my business. Who ever could have predicted I’d say that sentence?”

“Everything works out the way it’s supposed to. I told you that, that night on the beach. Before we knew. Remember?”

“I remember,” you smile, recalling that evening. You’d felt so inexplicably connected to Bucky that day. Little did you know what was to follow.

You fall asleep wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, warm and content.

You’ve never known happiness like it.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The day flies by with Bucky by your side.

You’re a little out of your depth, admittedly. You don’t know much about real estate, or what makes a viable location for a bakery. But Bucky helps - explaining what to avoid, warning signs to look out for, checking out all of the boring stuff like gas mains and water pipes and backup generators. He never patronises you, even when you look at him like a deer in headlights. He clarifies himself when you become unsure, laying out explanations carefully and simply. He’s the perfect right hand man.

“You almost ready, honey?”

“Yeah Buck, give me one second!”

You walk into the kitchen where Bucky’s leaning against the counter, beer in hand. He’s in loose jeans and a linen button up, the white shirt beautifully showing off his tanned skin. He’s got several buttons undone, toned chest peeking through. He looks effortlessly perfect.

You stop in front of him, fixing the buckle on your sandals. You look up at Bucky to find him staring at you, open mouthed.

“You alright, handsome?”

“You look… you look - fuck, you look gorgeous.”

Heat rises up your skin, still so susceptible to his compliments.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he chuckles into your mouth.

Bucky rests a hand against the base of your throat, pulling you into him. His other hand plays with the hem of your dress, your skin burning where his fingers brush. You kiss him back harder, groaning when he nips at your bottom lip. He sucks on your tongue, and your knees buckle.

You pull back suddenly, putting three feet of distance between you.

“We need to go.”

Your hair is tousled, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as you try to regain your composure. Bucky smirks at you, laughing when you flip him off.

“Come on. My parents and paella await us.”

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Your Mom has done it again.

Golden lights adorn the beams of the deck, the table littered with flowers and wine glasses begging to be filled. There’s already a few people scattered around the yard, chatting and laughing in the warm evening air.

“Oh baby, you look so beautiful.”

Your Mom engulfs you in a hug, pulling back to look at you from a distance. You’re wearing a yellow sundress, form fitting in all the right places. The skirt blows in the gentle breeze, fanning around you like an angels halo.

“This place looks amazing, Mama. I made you a tropical tart - it’s pineapple and coconut, with a mango coulis.”

“Oh, it’s gorgeous. I’ll put it in the fridge and get you some wine, honey. Buck, you want wine or beer?”

“Wine, please Lori. You need a hand?”

“If you’re offering,” she winks, laughing when he pokes her in the side as they leave towards the kitchen.

“Your father says you’re moving back home.”

You turn around to see Cora looking at you expectantly. You haven’t seen her since the incident that evening months ago.

“Uh, yeah. I love California, but I think I outgrew it after culinary school.”

She nods at you in faux sympathy, overbearing and sickly sweet.

“Aw, sweetie. Sometimes, things just don’t work out the way we hoped, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you hum noncommittally. “Yeah, I guess.”

You look for an exit, but she rubs your arm in support, pulling you back.

“I saw you today, you know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! Down on Maple, by the corner. You were with Bucky.”

You freeze suddenly, blood running cold. You and Bucky are always affectionate, whether you mean to be or not. It’s just the way it is, being alongside your soulmate. Of course, Cora doesn’t know this. All she’s seen is you, out in town with your Dad’s best friend, looking cosier than platonic.

Your ears are ringing. You wonder, for a second, if you’re experiencing deja vu.

“Yeah, he… he has contracting experience. Just needed a second opinion. I’m no builder, after all.”

You force a laugh, willing the ground to swallow you up.

“You two are friends? You seem pretty close.”

She’s watching you, waiting for a reaction. You don’t give it to her.

“I’ve known him for a while, I see him often. He’s a good friend to my Dad, so you can imagine we know each other pretty well by now.”

“Yeah. It sure looked like it.”

You’re wracking your brain, trying to understand what she saw. Then it hits you.

On the corner of Maple is a florist’s, alive with blooming flowers and plants of every colour. You’d been admiring the tulips when Bucky had wrapped his arms around you from behind, whispering in your ear about how you’re the prettiest flower of all, honey.

There’s no running away from this. She’s caught you, in broad daylight.

“We’re friends,” you reiterate, praying for mercy.

You shoot her a fake smile before turning on your heel, making a beeline for the kitchen to find your Mom. When you get there, you gulp down your entire glass of strawberry wine, begging the sugar to lift your mood and calm your nerves.

The rest of the night goes off fairly smoothly.

You eat paella and fruit tart, drink wine, laugh with your parents and their friends. Bucky occasionally slips a hand beneath the table, squeezing your thigh in silent reassurance. You tangle your fingers with his for a moment before letting go, praying everyone else is none the wiser.

Every time Cora opens her mouth, your chest constricts a little. But she seems to have learnt her lesson somewhat, only speaking to tell obnoxiously long and tangent filled stories and offer comments no one asked for. Eventually, you all disperse from the table, making conversation elsewhere.

“What’s on your mind?” a low voice rasps in your ear.

You’re sat on the swing in the corner of the garden, watching the world go by. Bucky snakes his arm over the back of it, fingertips brushing your shoulder.

“Cora saw us today. Think she knows.”

“She’s a fucking nuisance.”

You laugh, the sound vibrating through Bucky’s bones.

“Yeah, she is. She’s also a gossip. She won’t keep her mouth shut for long if she thinks she’s sitting on something newsworthy.”

He thinks for a moment, taking a deep breath.

“So we tell them.”

“So we tell them.”

You lean back into Bucky’s arm, inhaling the familiar scent of peace.

“We should do it as soon as possible.”

“How about tomorrow?”

You nod, biting your glossy lips.

“Yeah. We need to do it sometime, and we’ve delayed the inevitable for long enough. We’ll do it tomorrow.”

Bucky nudges closer to you, so your sides are pressed together.

“It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to, honey girl.”

You smile gently.

“I know. I don’t think I believed you the first time you said that to me. But I do now.”

“You and me against the world, baby.”

“You and me against the world, Buck.”

It truly feels like it, at the moment. You and Bucky against the world.

tag list part one

@lillytracy6996 @securegorgon @roostersforevergirl @povlvr @val-writesstuff  @dreadfulxives18 @1deadpool26 @abbygraceasd @nyutasgirl @mavrellover91 @winterslove1917 @f-this42 @skewedcherries @noisesinthedark @kandis-mom @black-cat-2 @harrystylesandthegoobs @vladsgirlxx @h0nestly-though @arienotari @nash-dara  @wandaneedstherapy @galaxy-dusk @justherefortheficandsmut @cremebruleequeen   @cjand10 @buggy14 @avengers-fixation @blueberrybambi @beautiful-loserr @sarah1barnes @miss-rebel-without-applause @ragingrainbowshipl @shamrockqueen @savemeroman @jenn-f @8crazy-freak8 @daddyjackfrost @openup-yourmind @adangerousbalance  @mandijo17 @daddylorianisastateofmind @rcarbo1 @casa-boiardi @spideegwen @navs-bhat @mssbridgerton @asuni921 @middle-of-the-earth @mfrnchsk

[cinnamonmilf]

✧˖°.☪︎.𖥔 ݁✧:･. rapid eye movement (part ii)

summary: you meet ellie in a dream…or was it at a café now?

cw: nothing, just fluff (repost from old account), you can read part 1 here

BEFORE YOU READ!!!:

FUNDRAISER MASTERPOST BOYCOTT TLOU DAILY CLICK

"Excuse me, um, I love you"

I know that's not the way to start a conversation

It had been two days since you had seen Ellie. This time she wasn’t accompanied by the yellowish hue and warm ambience of your R.E.M. state, you had actually seen her.

The girl that was driving you crazy was actually flesh and bones, rather than just a lulling mirage, and she had been kind enough to give you the notebook you’d forgotten at your favorite café.

There was no other way to describe it besides bizarre.

You couldn’t even thank her properly, staring at her for what was probably too long with widened eyes. She even asked a concerned “Are you okay?”. And no, you definitely weren’t.

Did she not know who you were? Did she forget about your strolls and your hugs and your deep talks? Had she ever dreamt of you? Was it even possible that it was all true? Or had you maybe seen her before and your brain took her face and made up an entire person?

How are you supposed to explain to a total stranger you’ve dreamt of her and fallen for her in said dreams?

The hair, the face, the tattoo, all of it was the same. Would she be the same, though? Was she an astrophysics major? Did she like the color green and NASA and also laughed at silly puns?

It was like your brain was nothing but a bunch of questions with no answer. None rational, at least.

But there she was. Right in front of you with that mesmerizing aura of hers that made you feel so drawn to her…regardless of the realm you were in. You weren’t one to ask people out. You’d usually wait for them to ask you or flirt with them until they took a hint. But there was no way you could let her go just like that. You couldn’t really tell her you knew her either, but you could just ask for her phone number, right?

And so you did. She smiled and agreed. In her mind, she was happy about the fact that giving you your notebook back had landed her a possible date with such a pretty girl.

Two days. You hadn’t texted her. You didn’t dare. What if she wasn’t like your Ellie? What if for some fucked up reason you dreamt of someone so special but she turned out to be nothing like that? What if the connection wasn’t there? What if she wasn’t sweet and caring and funny and trustworthy?

But it had been enough. Enough questions and enough overthinking. There was no way for you to know if you didn’t text her.

“Hi, it’s the girl whose notebook you saved :)”

“Hey, didn’t think you’d text anymore”

“Oh no! I’m sorry. I just got a little caught up with school”

“I wanted to see if you’d like to hangout sometime?”

“I’d really like that. Is friday cool?”

“Friday’s great <3”

“Okay, I’ll pick you up, yeah?”

“Oh you don’t have to dw”

“No, it’s okay, I want to”

“Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking on her own”

You sighed in relief. At least you were done with that part.

Flirty…At least that checks out with your Ellie.

You spent the rest of your week both dreading and anticipating your date on Friday. And, god, were you a mess.

You couldn’t remember ever being so nervous about meeting someone. You spent the next couple days overthinking your outfit choices, how you should do your hair, what you were going to say. More than anything, the thought of this Ellie not being at least a little like your Ellie was nothing short of terrifying. You adored this girl. Her not being real was one thing, but her being real and being the complete opposite was a nightmare.

At 6:36pm your bell rang.

“Coming!” You yelled as you finished putting on your shoe and took one last look in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told yourself. Though the shaking of your hands was slightly contradictory.

You finally opened the door and there she was. She was wearing jeans and an open button-up with the half-up hairdo you liked so much. You can’t help but discreetly pinch yourself just to make sure you weren’t asleep.

“Hi.” You greet her with a smile.

“Hey, you look great.”

“Thank you, you look great too.” She´s smirking now, probably noticing how nervous you were. Well, at least now you knew she was cocky too. “You ready?”

The ride to the restaurant was filled with small talk. You were too nervous to ask her any of the questions you actually needed to ask. You thought to yourself you’d leave them for the restaurant. Having warmed up a little more with each other.

One thing about Ellie, she knew how to treat a girl. She opened the door for you, helped you fasten your seatbelt, let you play your own music on the way there. She was so…well, dreamy.

As you both wait for your food you finally gather the courage to ask. In reality, they were all very basic questions. Not to you, though.

“So, Ellie..”

She hums.

“Are you in college?”

“Yeah, Astrophysics”. Oh, fuck.

“Astrophysics?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” she chuckles, “have always been into all things space.”

You can’t quite believe this is real and not some sort of sick cosmic joke. You try your best to hide your shock. It’s not really a good look for you to audibly gasp every time she says or does something that further proves she’s actually Ellie.

“Oh really? You must be really smart, then.” You tease with a smile.

“Shut up.” She laughs. “Are you in college?”

“Yes, English Literature. Almost done.”

“Really? Suits you.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Good, of course.”

If this whole thing was bizarre, this moment was just ridiculous. Every other déjà vu was nothing compared to this. It was your Ellie, from the looks down to the way she worded her thoughts.

The rest of your date went great. You learned she indeed was twenty two and liked NASA and comics. She talked the same and she laughed at the same things. She had the same mannerisms: pouts her lips, she fidgets with her hands, smirks a whole lot and oh! such a flirt.

One thing, though - nothing hinted at the fact that she remembered you. You knew most of the things she told you about herself today, not that you minded, but she was actually meeting you for the first time. How could she not remember? Did she even have the same dreams?

You still had many questions, but you were also very relieved. She was Ellie. Your Ellie. Your auburnette with a space obsession and a liking for silly puns. Your funny and sweet friend. Your favorite girl.

She took you back home and walked you to your door. You spin on your heel to face her.

Loose strand of her framing her face, glimmery green eyes staring at you and an eyebrow scar that’s surprisingly attractive on her. Like straight up from your subconscious mind, now right in front of you.

“Can I see you again?” You can tell she’s the nervous one now, not that she lets you see it. You just know her too well.

You smile at her. You thought it was obvious.

“Of course.” You inch closer towards her and press a kiss on her cheek. “Call me, yeah?”

She blushes at this. Trying too hard to contain the huge grin on her lips.

“I will.”

“Goodbye, Ellie.”

The next few days went well. Ellie and you kept texting back and forth, getting to know each other more. You did find out new things about her. About her past, her friendships, her family.

You found yourself constantly checking your phone for her texts. Eagerly waiting for the notification on your screen with her name attached to it. Not that she ever made you wait long, you pretty much had all her attention. You’d smile every time she’d make a dumb joke or she’d call you a sweet name. When you thought you couldn’t love this girl more…

-

The sun was starting to set. Pink and purple clouds painting the sky. The weather was getting warmer and you didn’t have to carry an obnoxiously big jacket with you anymore. You’d had classes all day, finally ready to unwind and peacefully enjoy your Friday night. Or so you thought.

Your phone starts ringing and it’s none other than the girl who's responsible for your stomach doing somersaults. You quickly drag the phone icon to the right and press the device to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, pretty, Are you busy?”

“Nope, just walking home. Had a bunch of classes all day.”

“Are you doing anything later?”

“Ellie Williams, are you trying to ask me out on a date?” You jokingly gasp and earn a laugh from her end.

“Yes, actually. The sky’s supposed to be like super clear tonight and I know a spot where you can really see all the stars and stuff.”

“I’m in.”

“Yeah? I’ll pick you up in an hour. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great. Bye, Ellie.”

“See you in an hour.”

You scurried to your apartment to get ready. You did your hair, changed your clothes, sprayed a sweet vanilla perfume on your pulsing points and quickly touched up your makeup. An hour and eleven minutes later, your bell rang.

This time she was wearing a hoodie with a light jacket on top, her staple jeans and jacket combo. Her hair was up in a low bun. She was such a sight for sore eyes.

“How do you even know this place?” You ask as you both get out of the car. It was higher than the rest of the city, not quite at the top of the mountains but it still had a rather breath-taking view. Pretty quiet yet comforting. A safe haven just for the two of you, at least for tonight.

“Well…” Ellie scrunches her nose.

“What?”

“Kind of found it by accident once, with my ex.” She nervously scratches the back of her neck.

“Are you serious?” You laugh.

“It was just once!”

“So you bring all your girls here?”

“Just the special ones.”

“Shut up, dork.” You playfully roll your eyes at her and nudge her arm.

You both settle the blanket on the grass. Lying next to each other. Propped heads rested on your respective hands.

“So..ex, huh?”

“Yeah, we broke up a little bit over a year ago.”

“What was her name?”

“Cat.” You hum. “She’s great, we just didn’t really work as a couple.”

“Are you guys still friends?”

“We are on good terms. Talk every now and then. I wouldn’t call it ‘friends’, though.”

“I’m not really supposed to talk about exes until like the fifth date, you know?” She jokes.

“You brought her up!” You laugh.

“Yeah, you are right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Ellie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Yes, this was your second date but it felt like it wasn’t. She felt as if she had known you her whole life. Something about talking to you and spending time with you felt just right. More than right. You brought a sense of comfort to her. She was in awe of you.

You both rest your heads and look up at the sky. Ellie was right, it was very clear tonight, you couldn’t recall the last time you had seen so many stars.

“Look, you see that one? The one that looks like a W.”

“Wait, where?”

“Right..” she grabs your index finger and points it towards it, “there.”

“Oh I see it!”

“That’s Cassiopeia.” She explains not letting go of your hand, despite you having already spotted the cluster of stars. “It’s the 25th largest constellation in the night sky.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, and the first to list it was Ptolomy in the second century…” Ellie went on and on about nebulas and exoplanets. It’s not that you didn’t care, it just so happened that the constellations lined up by her freckles were a whole lot more interesting than the ones drawn in the navy blue sky. “I probably sound like such a nerd right now.” She laughed.

“What? No, not at all. It’s cute how excited you get.” You keep on playing with her hand. Locking and unlocking your fingers, twisting them against each other’s, featherly brushes against her knuckles and the soft scraping of your nails against her skin.

“Is it?” She could feel her heart speed up, so much so that it felt like it was trying to break her ribs and find its way to you. You were no better.

“Mhm, you are very smart. I love hearing you talk.”

She smirked. Of course she did. No matter how nervous or excited she was, she wasn’t Ellie without that tinge of cockiness never leaving her side.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You breathed out.

She hovered over you, grabbing your chin to pull you closer to her. She brushed her lips against yours, almost kissing you. Breaths perfectly sync as you feel the air fanning against each other’s mouth. There was no way in hell you could wait one more second, you break first. You crashed your lips into hers.

You had never kissed Ellie, not even in your dreams. You had thought about it many times, but even your imagination’s best efforts couldn’t compare to this.

It was exhilarating, the feeling of her lips rhythmically moving with yours. It just made sense, you two fit. You had kissed people before, but nothing like this. You two were made for each other, and if the otherworldly experience of how you first met didn’t make it painfully obvious, this did.

You moaned into the kiss which she took as an opportunity to explore your mouth with her tongue. Cupping your face to bring you closer, as if you were going anywhere.

She finally breaks the kiss.

“Fuck…”

You giggle, “I know.”

Crazy to be so infatuated by someone on your second date. But the truth is that’s how Ellie felt and she couldn’t explain the how. You, on the other hand, had an idea or two.

After your second date the two of you only got closer. You were on cloud nine. You two could talk for hours, hangout for hours, laugh for hours, kiss for hours. You had come to terms with the fact that you would never know how it is that you met Ellie first or why she couldn’t remember your slumber induced escapades.

It didn’t make it any less strange, but you were long past the freaking out stage. If anything, you had gotten to know Ellie better and even experienced things you never got the chance to back there. You were meant to find each other. That was the best you could come up with and it was fine with you.

-

You decided to plan a date for you and Ellie. She was usually the one that did, being the creative one out of the two of you. But you wanted to do something nice for her.

You settled on a picnic. The past few days had been sunny and warm enough for it. You hauled to the kitchen and prepared everything you needed. The snacks, the drinks, the plates and the cutlery, checkered blanket and all. You even got her flowers earlier that morning.

As your girl rang your bell one more time to pick you up, you grabbed the basket and the flowers and opened the door.

“Hey, beautiful.” She said as she pulled you in for a kiss. You hum into the kiss.

“These are for you,” you tell her as you hand her the bouquet.

“Are you serious?” She asks with a grin on her face.

“Of course, I’m serious.”

“God, you are” kiss “so fucking” kiss “cute” kiss

You giggle into her kisses. “I take it you like them?”

“I love them. You are the first girl to give me flowers, you know?”

“I am?” You ask incredulously.

“Yeah.”

“All the other girls were stupid, then.” She laughs.

She drives to your destination. A pretty forest you had found upon a quick internet search for a good picnic spot. The pictures didn’t lie, the place was beautiful. Green foliage and perfectly cut grass with the perfect amount of sun and shade. You set up the whole thing, enjoying the evening with Ellie.

Ellie was convinced she could stare at you for hours. From how you move your hands when you talk, to how you tilt your head back slightly when you laugh, to how you pout your lips and twist them to the side when you are thinking, you drive her mad.

And maybe it’s the way the sun is hitting your back, making a halo form around your silhouette. Maybe it’s the way the green compliments your skin so beautifully, so familiarly. Maybe the way the warmth of the day and yours mix together and embrace her, making her vision slightly hazy. Maybe the way the sound of the breeze hits the leaves and the sound of the birds chirping mixes with your voice and creates a song she’s sure she’s heard before. But Ellie has lived this before. She has seen you like this before.

She almost gets whiplash from it, all of it coming back to her at once. The day at the cafè wasn’t the first time you two met, and she remembered now.

-

a/n: second repost while i work on part 3 :)

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