#I'm only sorry i hurt you with ... what i did.

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

Bucky didn't need medical attention. That was what he told himself, and he said the same thing to the team after he took a hard hit to the head. But he made the mistake of telling Bob that he admittedly felt a little dizzy, who then told Yelena, who then demanded that he go to the hospital. Not only did she demand that he go, they all went and were currently hanging out in the lobby to make sure he was okay. 

Of course Bob told Yelena and them all waiting there is just so cute 🥹

He took a hit to the head. So what? He experienced much worse when it came to his head and he was a super soldier for God's sake, so he’d heal just fine. It was a bit cocky to think like that but others needed help more than he did and he wasn't in the mood for anyone to inspect him or ask questions. At least he wasn't until he saw your face. 

How quickly the tables turn 🤭

He opened his mouth to say he hadn't waited long at all, but no sound came out. Thank God he wasn't hooked up to a heart monitor because it would've picked up on the accelerated rate when you smiled at him again. He almost forgot to breathe before his body reminded him that he needed oxygen. No one should look as beautiful as you in medical scrubs or under the harsh hospital lighting. He wondered if he looked okay despite the blood and dirt on his clothes. 

Ahhh he is instantly smitten 🤭🥰

With a deep breath he thought instead of his wonderful treatment in Wakanda and reminded himself that he was safe, free. It helped the next breath come easier. He then looked at your face where he only saw concern and compassion. You weren't going to hurt him. You were there to help. 

He needs a friendly face in a moment like that

“And I appreciate that you're thinking of my time, but it’s my job and I wouldn't feel comfortable with you leaving without completing my exam,” you said, taking a closer look at him. It wasn't concern he saw in your eyes now, but understanding. “You're not exactly a fan of hospitals, are you?” The question took him by surprise. How did you guess? “Not exactly,” he replied, choosing not to elaborate on that and you were thoughtful enough not to push. Just a sympathetic nod, which he appreciated. “But the work you and everyone else in the medical field does? It's incredible. Thank you.”

They are both so thoughtful 🥰

“As long as everything is stable and there are no new or worsening conditions, you’ll likely be discharged within an hour or two,” you replied. He almost argued that he healed from injuries faster thanks to the serum, but that wasn't too long. Better safe than sorry. At least it wasn't a headscan. “Would you like some water? I can get you a snack, too.” The snack and drink were likely to make sure he could keep them down. “Sure, thanks,” he whispered. 

I juat know he loves a snack, especially from a pretty and nice nurse

“Sorry that you’re stuck with me checking on you for the next hour or so,” you said. Bucky’s smile grew before he chuckled. “You won't hear me complaining,” he promised. 

I'm sure he won't 🤭

Hell, he'd probably fake an injury just to see you again, or at least ask for you if he ever had to come back to the hospital for any reason. He wondered if you were single. You weren't wearing a wedding band or an engagement ring. That didn't necessarily mean-

Hahaha there is no denying in him having a crush is he is willing to get injured 😅

“I���m single,” you said quickly. He glanced at you before his eyes went wide. Shit, he said some of that out loud? “Oh, well, that’s…” He wasn't sure what to say. Should he apologize? “Nice.”

I love that they are both so out of it and random in saying these things😂

“Were you a sarcastic guy before the hit to the head, or is this a new side to you?” you teased back.  “Oh, the sass has always been there,” he said, taking a sip once you handed the drink over. “Better to be smart-ass than a dumbass, right?” Why was he talking so much?

Maybe because he wants to keep talking with her, just a thought 🤔🤭

“Why don't I walk you back to the lobby?” you offered. “Oh, you don't have to do that,” he said, regretting it since it sounded like a brush off and that wasn't his intention. “But if you wouldn't mind?” Your face lit up, at least he thought it did. “I don't mind at all.”

She doesn't just mind, she would love to 🤭

He smiled to himself when he spotted his teammates sitting in the waiting area. None of them looked particularly comfortable, but they stuck it out for him. It meant a lot. 

🥹🥰🥹🥰

Of course Yelena and Ava instantly clock his crush 🤭 and Alexei obviously had to chime in 😅

“Hello?” Yelena asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “What are you staring at?” He blinked a few times. “Nothing.” “Nothing? Oh, I think he was staring at that pretty nurse,” Ava answered.  Bucky shot the entire group a glare, his cheeks hot. “No, I wasn't,” he grumbled. Except he was. He stared at you. And by the amused looks on their faces, they all saw it.  “It’s okay to stare or have a crush. She’s a beautiful woman.” Alexei clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She would be lucky to date the Winter Soldier.”

“Ask her out! I drive you for your date!” Alexei offered, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll set the mood. You see.” Yelena pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered, “Dad, stop.” Bucky shook his head and shut his eyes, wishing he could teleport himself out of there. “Yes, please, stop.”

😂😂😂

“Is your head okay?” Bob asked, making him open his eyes. Of course he was concerned with his pain, and Bucky was glad for the change of topic. 

Oh Bob, he is just the cutest 🥹

John stretched his back once he stood up. “If you really want to see that nurse again I can make sure you get another hit to the head.” Bucky’s eyes turned cold. “I’m not a killer anymore, but I may make an exception if you try anything.”

Hahahaha John just like Bob want to be useful, but he really has to work on reading the room 😂

I would love to read if they reunite 👀

Hit to the Head

Pairing: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Female Reader

Summary: Bucky doesn't think he needs medical attention after a hit to the head, but he's glad he met you.

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Meet cute (of sorts?), possible concussion, mention of HYRDA, team dynamic, humor, Bucky's POV, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he's smitten.

A/N: A new AU (as if I need more) inspired by this wonderful nonnie. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 (and thanks for the assurance on the medical discussion), but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn't need medical attention. That was what he told himself, and he said the same thing to the team after he took a hard hit to the head. But he made the mistake of telling Bob that he admittedly felt a little dizzy, who then told Yelena, who then demanded that he go to the hospital. Not only did she demand that he go, they all went and were currently hanging out in the lobby to make sure he was okay. 

It was a sweet gesture, if not a wasted one. 

He took a hit to the head. So what? He experienced much worse when it came to his head and he was a super soldier for God's sake, so he’d heal just fine. It was a bit cocky to think like that but others needed help more than he did and he wasn't in the mood for anyone to inspect him or ask questions. 

At least he wasn't until he saw your face. 

“Hi,” you smiled, pulling back the curtain to give him some privacy. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He opened his mouth to say he hadn't waited long at all, but no sound came out. Thank God he wasn't hooked up to a heart monitor because it would've picked up on the accelerated rate when you smiled at him again. He almost forgot to breathe before his body reminded him that he needed oxygen. No one should look as beautiful as you in medical scrubs or under the harsh hospital lighting. He wondered if he looked okay despite the blood and dirt on his clothes. 

Wait, why did it matter what he looked like? He wasn't there to flirt with or impress you. There was no reason for him to sit up straighter or flex his right arm. There sure as hell wasn't any reason to run his fingers through his hair to get the tangles out. It was a hospital visit, not a date. 

You wore a name tag, but introduced yourself before taking a look at his chart. “I understand you took a pretty hard hit to the head, Mr. Barnes.”

His voice came out huskier than he anticipated when he said, “Call me Bucky.” Clearing his throat he added, “If you consider a slab of concrete to the head hard, then yeah, but at least my head didn't split open.”

He felt the need to assure you he was fine when concern crossed your beautiful features. “I’m very thankful your head didn't split open, Bucky.” He liked the way you said his name. “But a concrete slab to the head is no joke.”

“You should see the other guy,” he joked, making you giggle. Was he funny or were you only laughing for his benefit? “But seeing the other guy wouldn't matter anyway since you won't let me leave without an exam,” he guessed. Even if he didn't believe he needed one. 

It wasn't just his belief that he was fine. Most didn't know it, but every now and then hospitals made him feel like he was back at HYDRA, ready to be strapped to a chair to await his next form of torture or to be experimented on. He wouldn't say he was afraid, but there was discomfort. Enough to make it feel like the walls were slowly closing in. 

With a deep breath he thought instead of his wonderful treatment in Wakanda and reminded himself that he was safe, free. It helped the next breath come easier. He then looked at your face where he only saw concern and compassion. You weren't going to hurt him. You were there to help. 

“Well, I wouldn't be a very good nurse if I just let you walk out, would I?” you gently smiled. 

He managed a smile for you because you weren't just doing your job. You also seemed kind. “I guess not.”

He could get through a simple exam. 

Bucky inhaled, detecting a hint of something sweet under the sterile surroundings as you checked his heart beat. It was so subtle that he wouldn't have been able to pick up on it if it weren't for his heightened senses. He almost leaned into you before you pulled away, and thank God for that. Would he have been able to blame it on his head if he did?

“I don't have a concussion,” he blurted out. 

“Is that right?” He swore there was amusement in your tone when you shone a light in each of his eyes. “I imagine you're somewhat familiar with them in your line of work.”

“You can say that,” he said. He had his fair share of hits to the head, and helped his teammates get through injuries. “No nausea, no stiffness or imbalance.”

He didn't mention the dizziness since he didn't want to stay longer than he needed to. 

“Any issues with your memory?” you asked. 

He smirked a little. “That's a bit of a loaded question.”

“Can you tell me what day it is and what hospital you're at?” you asked. 

He answered the questions with ease. He also spelled “world” backwards when you asked him to. “See? I’m fine,” he said. 

“Your vitals are normal. Pupils reactive. But-”

“Look, I appreciate you checking me out,” he cut you off, keeping the bite out of his voice because he refused to snap at you. “But I don't want to waste your time.”

Bucky hated that he was trying to rush out when you were only trying to help, but he could hear people in the other rooms even as he tried to block it out. They were in pain, struggling. They needed you more than he did. 

“And I appreciate that you're thinking of my time, but it’s my job and I wouldn't feel comfortable with you leaving without completing my exam,” you said, taking a closer look at him. It wasn't concern he saw in your eyes now, but understanding. “You're not exactly a fan of hospitals, are you?”

The question took him by surprise. How did you guess? “Not exactly,” he replied, choosing not to elaborate on that and you were thoughtful enough not to push. Just a sympathetic nod, which he appreciated. “But the work you and everyone else in the medical field does? It's incredible. Thank you.”

In his eyes, people like you were the real heroes. You didn't just face battles, you faced pandemics and life changing events. You risked your lives, saw the best and worst of people, and how many thanked you in return? And from the little time he knew you he could sense the love and dedication to your job and patients. He respected that. 

“Thank you. And thank you for all that you do, too,” you said sincerely. The compliment had the corner of his lip tugging in a smile. “I know you want to get out of here, but I am here to help. If you're fine, great. If not, please, let me help you.”

He tried to look anywhere but at you. It unnerved him that you got under his skin with so few words and he wondered for a second if that hit to the head did more damage than he thought. “I feel a little dizzy, but that’s all,” he admitted, and he felt better by doing so. 

You put a hand over his, little currents of electricity shooting up his arm. “Thank you for telling me,” you whispered, like it was your little secret. “Since you are feeling dizzy, I would like you to stay for observation.”

Bucky sighed. “How long do I have to stay?”

“As long as everything is stable and there are no new or worsening conditions, you’ll likely be discharged within an hour or two,” you replied. He almost argued that he healed from injuries faster thanks to the serum, but that wasn't too long. Better safe than sorry. At least it wasn't a headscan. “Would you like some water? I can get you a snack, too.”

The snack and drink were likely to make sure he could keep them down. “Sure, thanks,” he whispered. 

“Sorry that you’re stuck with me checking on you for the next hour or so,” you said. 

Bucky’s smile grew before he chuckled. “You won't hear me complaining,” he promised. 

Hell, he'd probably fake an injury just to see you again, or at least ask for you if he ever had to come back to the hospital for any reason. He wondered if you were single. You weren't wearing a wedding band or an engagement ring. That didn't necessarily mean-

“I’m single,” you said quickly.

He glanced at you before his eyes went wide. Shit, he said some of that out loud? “Oh, well, that’s…” He wasn't sure what to say. Should he apologize? “Nice.”

He grimaced. Nice? What was wrong with him? Maybe he had a concussion after all. 

You looked at him, your smile soft and easy. He either wasn't the first patient to make a fool out of himself like that or you were being nice. “I’ll be back shortly, but buzz if you need anything.”

“I will,” he said, his finger itching to push the remote the second you left him alone.

He leaned back in the bed and tried to make himself comfortable while he slowly looked around. How was it that the room seemed darker, as if you took a bit of the light and warmth with you? He shook his head slowly and carefully. It was a ridiculous thought. 

“Observation for an hour or two. You okay sticking around so you can drive me back?” he messaged Yelena. 

Yelena messaged back almost immediately. “Everyone is staying. Even Walker.”

He scoffed, but there was a smile behind it. “Not that you need my permission, but you can punch him if he steps out of line.” Yeah, John was still an asshole, but they did work together and he was trying. Some days. 

He perked up when you came back with a cup of water and a snack. “You doing okay?” you asked. 

“Since you left a minute or two ago, yeah,” he teased. 

“Were you a sarcastic guy before the hit to the head, or is this a new side to you?” you teased back. 

“Oh, the sass has always been there,” he said, taking a sip once you handed the drink over. “Better to be smart-ass than a dumbass, right?”

Why was he talking so much?

“So much better,” you smiled, going to the small computer to type something in. He tried not to stare as your fingers flew across the keyboard. He could always blame it on his head if you caught him. “I’ll be back in just a bit, but-”

“Buzz if I need you. I know,” he smiled. 

“At least there isn't too much sass in your tone,” you joked before you left him alone once again. 

If he didn't know any better he would think you were flirting with him, but you were just being a friendly nurse. 

He also tried not to eavesdrop when he heard you assisting others, but your voice drew his attention and he hung on your every word. You were professional, yet personal, showing each patient expert care. You lightly scolded an older gentleman who hadn't listened to you, which brought a smile to Bucky’s face when the man apologized and didn't give you any trouble after that. It was a delicate balance to be kind and assertive and you did it well. 

“You are something,” he said to himself. 

For the next hour or so Bucky didn't say much when you checked on him, but you had his undivided attention, his eyes following you wherever you went. He wanted to find excuses to keep you there and possibly make small talk, but it felt wrong when there were other patients who needed your attention. He caught that sweet scent again whenever you were close to him. Alluring, captivating. He tried to figure out if it was a body wash or just you. 

Something he noticed and tried not to was that your heart raced faster when you were near him. Maybe there was a slight chance that you were attracted to him? Beyond being a friendly nurse, maybe the possible attraction was why you kept smiling at him. He wanted to believe so. He wanted to feel your hand on his hand again. The brief touch had him wanting more, which was crazy. 

And before Bucky knew it, it was time to leave. 

“Vitals still look good. No change in symptoms,” you confirmed after he said the dizziness had subsided and he didn't feel at all nauseous after the snack. “Do you have someone to drive you home?” you asked. 

“Yeah, I have some friends here,” he answered. Even if he wasn't dizzy there was no way they'd let him drive after that. 

“Try to take it easy for the next 24-48 hours. If there are new symptoms or if the dizziness gets worse, you should return to the hospital,” you told him. “Other than that, I think you're good to go,” you smiled, but it didn't look as bright as before. 

Were you disappointed that he had to leave? Bucky was disappointed, but what could he do? He had no excuse to stay. Ironic how he was itching to leave when he got there when he now wanted a reason to stick around. 

“Thanks.” He grabbed his jacket after slowly getting to his feet, your gaze lingering on him when he slipped it on. 

“Why don't I walk you back to the lobby?” you offered. 

“Oh, you don't have to do that,” he said, regretting it since it sounded like a brush off and that wasn't his intention. “But if you wouldn't mind?”

Your face lit up, at least he thought it did. “I don't mind at all.”

Keeping a respectful distance, but not too much of a gap as you walked together, he stole a couple of glances at you. The quiet confidence in which you carried yourself was beautiful and you turned a few heads from nearby patients. He wondered if you noticed. 

He smiled to himself when he spotted his teammates sitting in the waiting area. None of them looked particularly comfortable, but they stuck it out for him. It meant a lot. 

“That group right there is my ride,” he said, not wanting you to go any closer. If they got the slightest hint that he enjoyed your company for a short time, they’d pounce. “Thanks again.”

“I’m glad I could help," you said, gazing at him. “Havd a good night. And don't forget to take it easy for the next 24-48 hours, hero.”

Hero. The nickname almost made him smile. “You have a good night, too.”

You lingered for just a moment, almost as if you expected him to say something else. When he didn't, you offered him one last smile and scanned your card to get back through the double doors. His shoulders dropped once you were out of sight. He should've said something. 

“Hello?” Yelena asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “What are you staring at?”

He blinked a few times. “Nothing.”

“Nothing? Oh, I think he was staring at that pretty nurse,” Ava answered. 

Bucky shot the entire group a glare, his cheeks hot. “No, I wasn't,” he grumbled. Except he was. He stared at you. And by the amused looks on their faces, they all saw it. 

Yelena exchanged a look with Ava before they both smirked. “Yes, you were. Do you like the nurse?”

Bucky’s fists curled. He was not having this conversation after a hit to the head. “Can we leave?”

“It’s okay to stare or have a crush. She’s a beautiful woman.” Alexei clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She would be lucky to date the Winter Soldier.”

A growl escaped before Bucky could stop it. Yes, you were beautiful. Did he need Alexei to point that out? And he didn't have a crush. How could he? 

“When was the last time you went on a date?” Ava asked. 

Bucky took a deep breath. He really didn't want to talk about this. “Does it matter?” he asked. 

“Ask her out! I drive you for your date!” Alexei offered, rubbing his hands together. “I’ll set the mood. You see.”

Yelena pinched the bridge of her nose and muttered, “Dad, stop.”

Bucky shook his head and shut his eyes, wishing he could teleport himself out of there. “Yes, please, stop.”

“Is your head okay?” Bob asked, making him open his eyes. Of course he was concerned with his pain, and Bucky was glad for the change of topic. 

“I’m fine,” Bucky assured him. There was nothing for him to worry about. “I just need to take it easy for the next day or so.”

John stretched his back once he stood up. “If you really want to see that nurse again I can make sure you get another hit to the head.”

Bucky’s eyes turned cold. “I’m not a killer anymore, but I may make an exception if you try anything.”

John held his hands up, but still had a smirk on his face before Yelena shot him a look. “A small injury could bring you back here.”

“No one is injuring me to bring me back here,” he announced. Everyone looked disappointed except for Bob. “What, you all want me to get hurt?”

Why did he decide to join this team again?

“No, we just want you to see the nurse again,” Ava said.

“Let’s go,” he ordered. 

As the group left, Bucky snuck one last look over his shoulder. You were a good nurse, and you made his night better. A small part of him hoped he made your night a little better, too. And while he certainly didn't want more injuries, a part of him did if only to bring him back to you.

So, what injury is Bucky getting so he can see you again? sebastian stan x reader, james bucky buchanan barnesLove and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[andy-15-07]

Hi! I.m not sure if your requests are still open of if this is where we ask for them and if its not im sorry. I was wondering if you could do something with Joel where he finds her when he is trying to save Ellie. He finds out that reader is also immune and the fireflies were gonna kill her too. So he saves her and he becomes the only person she trusts and doesn't really talk to anyone but him when they get back to Jackson. Joel slowly falls in love with her and one day on patrol he kisses her because they almost died and he think it's now or never. if not it's all good. Thanks!

Something Better

PAIRING: Joel Miller x reader

WORD COUNT: 1290 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

It had been days since Joel had seen another human face that wasn’t trying to kill him.

Ellie was gone. Taken by the Fireflies.

His boots were soaked with blood and melting snow as he moved through the sterile white halls of the hospital, heart pounding, rifle tight in his grip. He’d done the unthinkable already. The doctors were dead. Marlene too. All for Ellie.

But just as he turned a corner toward the recovery wing, he heard a voice. Not Ellie’s. Quieter. Raspy. And scared.

"Please don’t take me back. Please... I didn’t say yes."

Joel froze.

He stepped closer and peered into one of the observation rooms. A girl, maybe a few years older  than Ellie, lay strapped to a hospital bed. Her arms were bruised from needles and restraints. She had dark circles under her eyes, lips dry, and skin pale,but she was very much alive.

And awake.

Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"Are you here to kill me too?"

Joel lowered his gun immediately. "No, darlin'. I ain't here to hurt you."

She looked so tired. So damn scared.

"They said I was like her. The other immune one. But I didn’t want this. They were going to cut into my brain."

Joel’s heart dropped. Another one? Another immune girl, treated like cargo. An experiment.

He crossed the room in two strides and started undoing the straps. "You're getting outta here. What's your name?"

She hesitated. "Y/N."

"Y/N, I'm Joel. We don’t have much time. Come on."

The drive back to Jackson was quiet. Ellie was unconscious in the backseat, safe, and Y/N sat next to Joel in the passenger seat, barely speaking.

She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t cry. Just sat still, staring out the window like she was trying to memorize the world in case it disappeared again.

Joel offered her food. Blankets. Water. Nothing made her flinch except when he touched her wrist by accident.

"Sorry," he muttered.

She shook her head, finally speaking, voice a whisper. "Not your fault. You didn’t put me there. You got me out."

Back in Jackson, life was... different.

Y/N was placed in a spare cabin. Ellie healed. People smiled again. But Y/N? She didn’t talk to anyone. Didn’t trust anyone.

Except Joel.

When she did talk, it was to him. In quiet places. On patrol. On walks. In the early morning when the rest of the town was asleep. She felt safest with Joel.

"You ever think about leaving?" she asked once, during a patrol.

"Used to. Not anymore."

"Why not?"

He looked at her. "Because you’re here. Ellie’s here. It’s the first time in twenty years I got somethin' to lose."

She turned her face away, hiding her blush. But Joel saw it.

They grew close. Closer than Joel expected.

He’d find excuses to patrol with her. She’d bring him coffee. They’d share quiet dinners. She’d sit by his fire when sleep wouldn’t come. And Joel? He found himself watching her laugh. Noticed the way her eyes crinkled. The way she said his name like it meant something.

He was falling.

Hard.

The day it all changed started like any other patrol.

Snow. Footprints. Clickers in the woods.

But when one came too close, too fast, Joel almost didn’t react in time.

Y/N did.

She threw herself between him and the infected, burying her machete into its throat. It collapsed at her feet.

Joel’s heart nearly stopped.

"Jesus," he rasped, grabbing her shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

She was panting, wild-eyed. "I thought it was gonna get you."

"So you just threw yourself in the way?!"

"Yeah! Because I care about you, Joel!"

Silence.

Their breath came in clouds. His hands were still gripping her coat.

"You what?"

She swallowed. "You heard me."

He didn’t wait. He kissed her.

Joel pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. "I thought I lost you. I ain’t never felt that scared in my life. Not since Sarah. Not even with Ellie."

Y/N blinked, her chest rising and falling, trying to keep pace with the thundering of her heart. Joel's hand was still warm at her jaw, thumb brushing back and forth like he was memorizing the feel of her.

"Joel," she whispered. "You kissed me."

"I know. Shouldn't have done it like that, not out here. But hell... you got in front of that Clicker for me. And it hit me,I can't lose you. Not after everything."

Her eyes softened. She took his hand from her jaw and held it between hers. "I didn’t jump in front of it for fun. I did it because I care about you. More than I should. You’re the only one I trust."

He swallowed. Hard. "Do you... wanna go back to Jackson? We can talk more. Just you and me."

She nodded, cheeks flushed. "Yeah. Let’s go home."

They rode in silence the rest of the way, but their hands kept brushing. When they got to Jackson, the world was quieter, more forgiving. Snow lined the rooftops, horses snorted in the early dusk, and families bustled behind closed doors.

Joel led her to his house instead of hers. She didn’t fight it.

"You warm enough?" he asked after hanging up their jackets.

Y/N nodded. Her fingers itched to reach for him again. Instead, she paced a little, unsure.

Joel moved to the kitchen, poured two mugs of tea,one with a splash of whiskey, just how she liked it. When he handed it to her, their fingers brushed again.

"Joel, about what happened out there,"

"Let me say it first," he interrupted gently. "I've been fighting how I feel. Since the day I met you. You were scared, covered in blood and bruises when I pulled you out of that Firefly hospital. And yet, you looked at me like I was the only safe thing left in the world. I didn’t deserve that."

"You saved my life."

"So did you. You don't even talk to most people. You talk to me. Trust me. That means somethin'."

Y/N stepped closer. "It means everything. Joel, you're the first person I've felt...safe with. Like I'm not a science experiment. Not just 'the other immune girl.'"

He reached out, thumb brushing her cheek again. "You ain't just any girl, Y/N. You're strong. Brave. Kind, even after all you've been through. And goddamn if I haven’t been fallin' in love with you a little more every day."

She inhaled sharply. Her chest ached in the best way.

"I love you too," she said. "Even when you scowl. Especially then."

He laughed, quiet and rough, and closed the distance.

The kiss this time was slower. More certain. His hands slid around her waist and hers curled into the collar of his flannel. His lips were warm, chapped, familiar. The sound of their breath, the creak of the floorboards, the soft knock of teeth. All of it was them.

They moved together like they’d been waiting years.

Hours later, they sat curled on his worn couch, her legs draped over his, her head on his chest.

"You ever think about what comes next?" she asked softly.

Joel rubbed lazy circles into her back. "Used to be, I didn’t. Was too busy surviving. But now... with you? Yeah. I think about a lot."

She looked up at him, eyes glassy but sure. "I want a life. Not just surviving. A real life. With you."

Joel leaned in, kissed her temple. "Then we’ll make one. Right here. Together."

Outside, the wind howled. But inside, Joel held her like she was the last soft thing in the world.

And for the first time in years, she believed in something better than survival.

She believed in them.

[bernardsbendystraws]

ೃ࿔*:･ Snow .ᐟ Reader x FWB.ᐟ Matt

ALTERNATE ENDING - You're finally ready to talk.

⚠︎ angst, unresolved ending, bitch i'm fucking crying idek what else to say

[ Can be standalone. Previous - P1 P2 P3 ] → au masterlist

The more you thought about it, the more you needed it to stop. All of it—everything, it’s all too fucking much. One moment you were in a drought of emotions, then Matt called you out—he triggered a flood. You’re drowning. 

You like him—you liked when he played the role of being your boyfriend for a brief moment, but it was more than that, it was far more atrocious than just a simple fond feeling. 

“Hey, can we talk now?” Matt asks, patting your knee as you sit side-by-side on your living room couch. 

You told him to come over, you said you were finally ready to talk. In all reality, you’re not ready, but you know you’ll never be ready—not for this type of conversation. 

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Matt.” 

The words are choked coming out of your mouth. You try to hold your breath, trying not to cry as you feel the waves of emotions thrashing against every corner of your mind and heart. 

Oh god.

The look on his face is dreadful, defeat clouding his features as a stray tear falls down his cheek, quickly accompanied by more droplets that seem to get heavier in weight from how rapidly they scurry down his face. 

This is it. It’s really happening—it’s really over. 

“What?” he asks, his throat feeling unbearably tight as he tries to take in a deep breath. 

It hurts. No thought in your brain can agree, no throbbing in your chest is eased to feel relief, not like you hoped it would. 

This is supposed to be for the better. 

Honestly, the more you thought, the more you realized you did have feelings for him—feelings your brain wouldn’t let you concentrate on without pushing relentless words that made everything so confusing. 

You can’t be with him. Your heart has been bruised and battered to the point where you can barely care for yourself. He deserves better. 

The tears strolling down his face make all the second thoughts come rushing in before being mirrored back with affirmation—this is for the better. 

All you do is hurt him. You can’t even figure out how to be happy for yourself, you’d only drag him down. You can’t be that selfish. 

Matt is sweet, caring—he’s everything pure about the world with enough understanding to get into anyone’s heart. It’d be unfair for you to have him, hold him hostage from all the things he deserves—all the things you’ll never be able to give him.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, your chest binding with pressure as your breath halts in your chest. 

Matt’s bottom lip wobbles, his mouth opening and closing as he tries to find the right words. “Are…are you sure? I—just—why? I…I know this is scary, but we can—”

The shake of your head makes his lips smack shut, a desperate attempt at holding back a sob as he realizes the determination in your eyes. This is it—this is all he’ll ever have with you, and it’s over. 

“I can’t do this right now. My…my heads everywhere, I don’t—it’s gonna be okay, Matt,” you coo, your brows scrunches as you pat his shoulder.

Matt goes to put his hand on top of yours, stopping as he realizes it’ll be the last time he ever holds your hand. He can’t do it. 

His hand falls to his lap, a burning sensation crawling through his knuckles as he aches to reach up and intertwine your fingers—but he can’t. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to let go.

A moment of silence passes. Matt rubs his hands over his face, trying to gather himself as your hand drops from his shoulder while he stands up. His eyes stay trained on the floor. Shame makes your body freeze as he grabs his keys from his pocket. 

“I’ll…I’m just gonna…I’m gonna go,” he puffs, his throat squeezing as he says the painful words. 

You stay frozen, your heart aching. It’s like a heavy ice block in the middle of your chest as you watch him walk through the door, a cold so shocking that it burns.

Matt walks through the door, shutting it behind himself, refusing to take glance over his shoulder. He can’t. He knows his heart will try to convince him to stay—to beg on his knees and plead with his entire soul, but that’s not fair to you. 

The words left your lips after you said you were ready to talk, after you had time to think. It wouldn’t be fair for him to try and convince you. He cares too much to interfere with your decision, no matter how much it breaks him to understand that this is truly it—the end. 

A slight glimpse of how he walked into that door with a bouquet of flowers rings through your mind, a small smile pulling on your lips before you breathe in reality. It’s impossible to reminisce happily about the memory. Instead, you feel something shatter—like ice shards stabbing through your chest in a way that makes you too aware of how you’re breathing. 

He’s gone. 

He’s really fucking gone. 

All the good times, all the fun things…they’re all just memories. 

That’s all he’ll ever be now. 

He’s a memory. 

A/N: Someone hug me I'm fucking sobbing holy shit. Sorry in advance. Especially to @weirdothatwritess @chrisbratt333 @sturnsblogs @lovesturni0l0s and more 😭😭😭

ITS AN ALTERNATE ENDING DW. THE OG ENDING IS RESOLVED.

·˚ ༘ ʚ 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒔, 𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆 𖧧

꒰ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ๑ 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ꒱

[pricesprincess]

Back To You | j. price x fem reader

synopsis: Marriage wasn't as easy as you thought it was, now you're suffering the consequences of your actions that you began to think were in haste.

wc: 4.0k

tags: 18+ only explicit smut + breeding + some angst with happy ending + edited repost from my old blog + this is one of my most treasued pieces

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

You tried to jam pillows against your ears when the water made contact with the metal sink in your kitchen, which was a few feet from where you slept, the sound loud and more than annoying.

Since your bedroom is now shut off from the rest of the house because the windows are so drafty that winter makes it impossible to sleep in without freezing, you opted for the lumpy couch with mixmatched cushions and pillows you bought from tag sales.

Which only reminded you of John.

Ironically enough, it felt like everything was falling apart in the house the moment he moved out, leaving you with more than a broken heart.

Now you had leaky pipes to fix along with your life.

With it being two am, you knew John would still answer but when you called, you weren't expecting a woman to answer his phone.

Her sultry voice came over like a soft purr. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to let images become burned into your mind.

Immediately, you hung up and debated calling Kyle; he lived close and would help, no problem, and then your phone buzzed in your hand, hoping it was Gaz, maybe he knew you needed him?

Nope. Not, Kyle.

John was calling back.

"Hello? You okay, sweet'eart?" He asked like there was no rift between you two and he was still your concerned husband, the worry bright and clear under that thick British accent you missed so much,

Part of you wanted to ask who she was but refrained. "I'm sorry, John, but my sink won't stop dripping and it's keeping me awake. Can you come fix it, please?" You asked with a tight throat.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to sink further into the couch, your duvet tucked around you to keep the cold air from penetrating under it and you wanted to stay warm.

There was some background chatter, then John came back speaking in that honey-dipped tone. "I'll be right over." He hung up, leaving you wondering who he was with and what he was doing with them.

Tucking the covers under your chin, you looked at your expenses, wondering if a hotel was out of the question. It would keep you warmer than here and the water would be a lot hotter than it is in your own home and you knew John would chastise you for not telling him.

He wasn't your husband anymore so that wasn't his business anymore; what either of you did or had going on was no longer something you should care about but John moving on hurt more than you wanted to admit, even though you were the one to ask for it.

But John deserved to be happy so when he used his key to let himself in, you didn't ask him about the woman but still greeted him from where you sat on the couch wrapped in a blanket. "Thank you."

"You're livin' in a damn icebox, love." He sighed and made his way over to you, stopping for a moment out of habit to kiss your head but he missed that step and walked straight into the kitchen to work on the sink, which caused him to let out a few colorful cuss words.

Once that was finished, John made his way to the furnace, getting it to start then he checked the vents, making sure hot air was being forced through them. His eyes shifted to the couch you lay on alone.

Silence filled the room as you met his gaze. "I know, the heat stopped working after you moved out and I don't have the money to fix that right now so I was getting by. Thanks again, John." You told him softly.

You only ever called him by his first name when you were irritated with him; during the whole relationship, his name was baby or honey and hearing you call him that made his heart shudder in his chest.

"Why didn't you just ask me?" His question made you prickle.

"Why do you think? You're not my husband anymore."

John took a step toward you, feeling the air become tenser. "Which means I have to stop carin' and lovin' you?" He shot back and sighed, fixing his bucket hat before pulling his keys from his pocket.

John's question left you speechless as he pulled his shoes back on, not wanting to fight with the person he cares about the most. "If you need anything else, let me know, sweet'eart."

Knowing that you were now safe and warm, John could leave and go back to Simon's.

That night you barely slept, tossing and turning, wishing you had asked him to stay the night, maybe for old times' sake but that would only further the crack in your heart and you didn't want to confuse it all, making the divorce harder than it needed to be, really.

The next morning you hardly could get off the couch; the squeaky springs dug into your back all night and it didn't help that the wind kept slamming the shutters against the house, creating so much noise and to make matters worse, you ran out of coffee beans.

John usually kept that stuff stocked.

Slapping a hand over your face, you scrubbed until you felt a little better and snatched something to wear from the tundra that is your bedroom; even with the heat on, it was still too chilly to sleep in.

Once dressed warmly, you set off to work, hoping that the office would be empty. It was a weekend, meaning that no one else should be there, and you could listen to music and crank the heat all the way up. Excitement sizzled through your veins as you drove.

It lasted all but a few minutes when you saw another car in the parking lot, your coworker Lucas, who has been super sweet to you ever since you started, and now that you don't wear your ring, he's bringing you coffee and flowers and lunch during the week.

He was cute and funny so it didn't bother you too much; perhaps you'd finally accept a date from him, seeing that John went on a date, or at least you thought it was because why did a woman answer his phone?

The thought made you clench your fists as you grabbed your bag from the backseat before scurrying inside to beat the chilly air that bit any exposed skin. "There she is. I was hoping you'd come in." Lucas beamed as he greeted you by the front double doors with a smile.

Lucas also held two coffee cups; one he gently thrust toward you. "I always do. I'm beginning to think you're coming in only because of me." You teased taking the cup with a grateful smile and nod.

He stepped in stride with you toward the cubicles where you answered phones, which got your bills barely paid but it was better than nothing and it helped you meet new people. "Is it snowing?"

"Thankfully no, but tonight I think it will start." The idea of having to spend your first winter alone hurts, and being cold isn't your only problem. Being with John for a decade and sharing everything left you stumbling after becoming a single woman after a long time.

The two of you chatted as you began the quick shift; it was something that helped cover the expense of other things you wanted, like the new vibrating clit toy that your friends all talked about.

It was a bit out of your price range but at this point, you'd pay it just to have an orgasm. After almost a year without a man's touch, you swore that if anyone got lucky enough to get you home, you'd hump their leg like a small dog.

"Are you doing anything to stay nice and warm? I could pick you up for dinner tonight." Lucas asked when it approached lunchtime, and you ended up in the break room for a moment to decompress.

Clearly, he was asking you on a date but was too shy to come out and say it outright like that. Being wanted stoked your ego and it had you nodding your head. "I'd love to, Lucas. How does six sound?"

The smile that pulled on his lips had you worried that he'd crack his cheek for a moment as he droned on about the details and how much fun you're going to have with a great man such as himself.

Your idea for a fun night took a dive with how he was bragging about himself. Once you accepted the date, it was like Lucas turned into another person but you didn't want to cancel on him just yet.

Thankfully the four hours ticked by and you were free of people screaming in your ear about getting a refund or how shitty of a person you are for not being able to help them the way they wanted.

You had a few hours to get ready before Lucas came, so you opted for a quick shower and to dive in your closet for something cute to wear. Since the divorce, you hadn't dressed up in such a long time, it felt like.

After applying some makeup and putting your hair in your favorite style, you looked in the mirror, running your hands over your curves that the dress you pulled on clung to and your tits looked good.

With a few sprays of perfume and some accessories on, you texted Lucas you were ready, followed by your address. Like magic, a few seconds later there was a knock on the door that startled you.

Lucas stood on your front porch with a bashful smile, holding a wilted bouquet of flowers that looked like he swiped them from a garbage can and they even smelled like it too, making you scrunch your nose.

"Wow, you're even sexier in a dress." His compliment made you sick to your stomach as he gazed at you like you were his last meal. The facade Lucas used at work was quickly crumbling, making you regret this. Perhaps if you call John, he could come and get you.

The thought was shoved away just as quickly as it came. He's probably on a date right now, and he's probably fucking her—no, you can't think about that or it will drive you insane all night.

You already said yes, Lucas was here and maybe he would cool his jets.

Taking the flowers, you placed them on the table next to the door, making a mental note to throw them away when you came home. Letting Lucas walk you to his car, you stayed a few feet away from him.

The idea of letting him touch you made your skin crawl.

It was painfully obvious he didn't know what to do on a date.

No opening the door, already asking if you could split the bill or at least get something cheap if he has to pay for it all and if he does, then you don't mind putting your mouth to work on the ride home.

You counted down the seconds until you were able to burst free from his car, where you barreled towards the front doors of the restaurant, ready to get this over and done and go home for the evening.

"There's no table available?" Lucas asked the host and then began to argue with the teenager, who seemed uncomfortable and out of his element, as you watched the scene unfold until you finally pulled Lucas back.

"It's okay; it's not that big of a deal. We can go somewhere else."

The angry mask he wore slipped for a moment as he smiled and took your hand to walk you back to his car. "I have a better idea in mind."

The better idea was driving by his ex-girlfriend's house, where she stood in the front window, heavily pregnant and dancing with someone. "That's her husband; she left me for him! Can you believe that?" he asked, white spittle forming at the corner of his lips.

Inside the cabin of the car was dark, making it difficult to see anything else but that or the way he gripped the steering wheel while you stayed silent, afraid to say anything that could set him off even more.

"Did your husband fuck around on you on his job? I couldn't be married while traveling to fuck other women." His voice was cold, void of any emotion at all and you felt your pulse race at his accusation.

You twisted your body to stare at him, your lip curling in disgust. "What the hell is wrong with you? John would never do anything like that and he didn't join the military to fuck around on his wife."

Your chest ached with the soft pulse of pain that never quite went away as you defended your ex-husband. Lucas's face contorted into something dark and dangerous as he pulled into your driveway.

"Sounds like you're still fucking him and I thought you two were over? Why call yourself his wife?" His voice teetered on possessiveness and something sinister as you reached for the door handle, desperate to leave his car and his space as fear took hold of you.

The moment you shoved your door open and stumbled out, you fell right into the chest of the very man you were defending; rough hands kept you upright as he peered into the dark car with a dead look.

John's eyes glazed over, something you've only seen twice since you met him. The first time was when he was talking about his missions and the other time was when a guy slapped your ass at the store.

You curled your fingers into his soft shirt as his scent wrapped you up like a bow on a pretty present. "John..." you whispered, getting his attention. His blue eyes shifted down, softening slowly.

Lucas watched the entire thing with a scoff as he rolled his eyes, not knowing what he just got himself into. John had already texted Simon his license plate and his name so later that night they could visit him.

John guided you into your old shared home. Passing under the threshold made you lean into the man you once promised to cherish and love for the rest of your life; a mistake was what it was, truthfully.

However, you couldn't say that out loud for fear that it was already over. Silence hung over you and John like an umbrella, keeping you two in a bubble of misunderstandings and unasked questions.

"That arseface has been after you ever since you started working there." John broke the silence as he stood by the front door with his arms crossed over his chest, putting you on the defensive.

Your eyes narrowed as you felt the bubble of irritation flare up. It's what the last year and a half of your marriage was like: one wrong move and you stepped on a landmine, and there was more fighting.

That's what did you in. When John wasn't home, it felt like you were single anyway and when he was home, he was more of your roommate. What hurt you the most is you weren't sure when it all started to fall apart at the cracks until it was finally broken.

"I had no idea because I wasn't worried about entertaining another man." You hummed and dropped your purse on the table where the rotted flowers lay, which John picked up, examining them with a grin.

He followed you into the kitchen, where you poured a glass of wine that John took for himself, taking a sip from it. "A man who gives a woman dead flowers wouldn't know how to properly romance her."

You wanted to make some sort of comment about him not knowing either but that was a lie. When you first met John during girls' night, he swept you off your feet and ever since, he has never let you walk.

To him you were his goddess; he worshiped the ground you walked on and there was nothing he wouldn't do for you nor was there any part of your body he hadn't kissed or touched and even though you no longer had the same name, he still felt that way and always would.

"He's unhinged to say the least, and since you're here, will you take a look at the windows in our," You cleared your throat and took the wine glass back from him with a huff to take a sip. "My bedroom, please?"

He leaned over the counter to wipe away the bead of wine on your lip before tasting it off his thumb, making your skin prickle with heat.

"Anything for my wife." With a wink, John headed toward the bedroom, feeling memories haunt him like a ghost attached to his back.

So many nights he carried you to the bed when you fell asleep on the couch waiting for him to get home, evenings you both spent curled up under the covers talking about everything and nothing.

You've seen him in dark times that he swore would take him under but you shooed away the dark, heavy clouds; your light, like the sun, parted them, providing him the warmth and love he needed to flourish.

A few moments later you joined him in the bedroom with two mugs of spiked hot chocolate, a silent apology for snapping at him when he's saved you again.

"I'm an asshole, huh?" You murmured and handed him his mug.

"At least you're a pretty one." He teased taking a drink of it, smearing the whipped cream on his beard that you kissed away without thinking the moment he sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

John stared at you for a moment, drinking in how the light caressed your features. It's been a year since you've been this close to him.

Setting both mugs down quickly, he leaned in to kiss you properly, like how a man should. His calloused palms cupped your cheeks to hold you still as his tongue parted your lips with a deep groan.

You held onto his arms with a whimper, gliding your tongue with his while moving to straddle him, your hands knocking off his bucket hat to grab a handful of his hair as you ground your clothed pussy against him.

It was a kiss that stole your breath as you molded yourself to John; he was the air you needed in your lungs to keep moving on.

He tasted you with desperate licks that made your clit throb with need as his hands trailed down to slowly peel your clothes off you as his mouth left open-mouthed kisses all over your shoulders and neck once they were bare for him; then he lay on his back to touch you.

"I'm sorry John, for letting our marriage come to this." You whispered, your voice teetering between the rush of emotions and the honesty.

With you straddling him, it was difficult to get him naked, and you missed seeing him. He's a bear of a man with thick, dark hair all over his body that softened with age but was still rough around the edges.

His hands roamed your body missing the feel of you after so fucking long. "Stop apologizin' darlin', I'm right where I want to be."

Despite him lying down, you still got him half naked, enough for you to rub your face against his chest with a sigh as he caressed your back with his fingertips and then popped your ass when you licked his nipple with a soft giggle before peppering his face in kisses.

"We should've had a baby." John whispered into the darkness as one hand cupped your cheek with your heart beating in tandem as you stared at him, feeling a rush of warmth wash over you.

It was something you thought about a lot but with him missing so much of it, you let it simmer on the back burner but now your womb was clenching. "Then no man will ask me on a date because I have my husband home waiting for me. No more, John, please, just come back."

Your soft pleas felt like a ton of bricks on his chest as tears matted his hair while you sobbed in his arms, breaking down. John shushed you gently with kisses and rolled you to your back to spread your legs.

He took his sweet time in kissing his way down to your glistening pussy that ached to be stretched out by John. You whined when his tongue finally glided across your sweet and slick cunt, making your back arch off the bed as he devoured you messily.

With slow and measured strokes of his tongue, your ex-husband had you gasping, your fingers curled in the sheets as you humped his mouth.

John slid his hands around your thighs to keep them open as he ate you out like you were made of the sweetest candy that would leave him with aching teeth but that didn't matter when your moans matched just how you tasted.

Everything was covered in diamonds from the sheer amount of pleasure that was pumping through your veins, like liquid desire making your pussy drool as you humped John's mouth.

It's been so long since you've felt his touch and now it was all you could feel; pressure built up the more his tongue swirled and stroked over your aching and puffy clit before he was kissing your cunt.

Then he slid two thick fingers inside you with a wet squelch, hearing you squeal and moan brokenly. "John, give me a fucking baby already."

He chuckled against you and pulled away with a glistening beard. "Being a bit bossy, are we? You're the one who went on a date; steppin' out on me deserves a punishment." He hummed quietly.

Your blood ran hot, making it feel like you were experiencing the worst hot flash of your life. "I only accepted it because you went on one!"

John now laughed as he kneeled between your legs, watching as you propped yourself up on your elbows, your eyes shifting down to his one hand that worked on his belt and then his pants to free his cock.

It sprang free, warm, fat, and heavy. It was thick too and just the right amount of hair covered his pubic bone; a few veins ran up on either side and a bigger one ran from the deep red, engorged head to his heavy and hairy sack that smelled like all John, potent male.

You wrapped your fingers around the base, unable to let the tips meet, and then slowly you jerked him off from the shaft to the tip before wrapping your legs around him.

"When that woman answered my phone, she thought it was hers. I was with my mates, sweetheart."

The sting of jealousy faded to embarrassment. "You never dated?"

"No, lovey, how could I date anyone when I was still married to you?"

You cried out and hugged his neck, pulling him further down to kiss him with passion as he rutted his hips against you blindly, trying to thrust in from the excitement of having you like this again.

When he speared you open on his dick, your mouth went slack, feeling the sweet sting of the stretch. "Keep it slow, John, you're the last person I slept with..." you admitted in between breathy kisses.

John rocked against you with slow strokes that kept you dizzy while you clung to him as he made sweet love to you, his hand cradling your head as he kissed you back with equal fire. Clearly, he missed you just as much as you missed him, and it was shown in hi

His smug grin not only riled you up but also made you want to sit your pussy on his face to give his mouth something to do and dear lord, did you need an orgasm from him? He's the only man who knew your body so well and could make you cry so sweetly for him.

[c4tluver02]

after work date

wc: 1.6k

summary: You go into Family Video for a new movie but leave having plans with Steve. <3

warnings: none! sooo flufffyyyy

Walking into Family Video you are immediately greeted by Steve. He’s sporting his green vest and a big smile that shows every time you open the doors. You want to watch Top Gun, unable to see it when it was out in theaters and you were told that the movie just made it to stores. And thankfully you just started dating a boy who happens to give you free movies. Not that you were dating him for the free movies, but of course it didn't hurt. 

“Hey honey!” Steve says, walking around the counter. “Didn’t know you were stopping by.” 

You give him a hug and he presses a kiss to your temple. 

“I wanted to ask if I could borrow Top Gun?” You look really pretty right now and it’s all Steve could think about. 

“Uh- I don’t know if we have anymore, three people have already come in to get a copy.” You can tell by the way he says it he's cursing himself for not magically knowing you’d want to see it. 

“Oh, that's okay I guess I should have known people would want it.” You say, unable to help the pout that comes to your face. 

“I wish you’d told me earlier I would have totally hid a copy for you.” He says matching your frown. 

“I know I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing to be sorry about, let's look just to make sure. Robin put them away so I don't exactly know how many we got.” He grabs your hand so that you’re following him. He hopes they have another copy.

Standing on your tippy toes you try to look at the top shelf with Steve where the movie would seemingly be. But unfortunately you aren't that lucky. 

“‘M sorry baby.” He’s being all too serious about it, it’s just a movie and it will come back but the patients you had to wait for it are wearing thin. 

Just as he says it Robin steps out from the back and Steve decides to ask her. It’s his last idea to get you what you want, and isn't that boyfriend duty #1? 

“Rob, do you know if we have any more Top Gun?” He asks as you stand behind him looking at the movies, you'd at least like to leave with one movie. 

“Why? Did you already promise it to someone?” She says, rolling her eyes. Knowing him he probably did.  “I took a copy and i'm watching it tonight, whoever needs it will have to fight me tooth and nail!”  

Steve lets out a sigh and smiles. You won't have it tonight but at least you’ll have it tomorrow, he’ll take that as a win. But as you poke out behind him Robin lets out a gasp, she didn't see you and the last person who deserves her wrath is you. 

“It’s ok Robin I won't fight you tooth and nail.” You say with the prettiest smile. You aren’t as close with Steve's friends, only just started dating but Robin does like you. She thinks you're good for Steve

Robin lets out a laugh. “But like I said I’ll watch it tonight so if you wanna come back tomorrow it’ll be all yours. Promise.” 

“Okay, yeah I can come back. Thank you.” 

She nods at you and goes to the other side of the store with a cart full of movies. As she does this Steve grabs onto your wrist and pulls you into a corner, one that blocks Robin from seeing you two. 

“Sorry, it’s just that if Robin sees me not working she’ll throw a movie at me.” 

The laugh you let out makes Steve's heart ache. He is so glad you came in today. 

“So tomorrow I get off at 5 so I was thinking you could, maybe, come in around that time and then we could go get something to eat and then watch the movie together?” How he came up with this whole plan between the time Robin said to come back to now surprises you, but also makes your cheeks heat up. 

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You want to kiss him so bad but you’re at that awkward stage that you could count on one hand how many times you've kissed him and it builds pressure. 

“Okay I’m excited.” Steve says happily as he plays with the rings on your fingers. 

“What do you think we do for dinner?” You ask, trying to distract your brain from how close he is to you. His hands are so warm and he smells really good. 

“Oh, good question, maybe pizza?” He’s now looking at you to see how you respond. When your nose scrunches he’s got his answer before you even put it into words. 

“We just had that this weekend.” This weekend you and the kids had a small pool party at Steves and the big meal was pizza. 

“You’re right, I forgot about that. Okay what are you thinking? Did you want to go out?” His thumbs are so soft as they rub against your knuckles. 

“I don't care we could cook something? Maybe spaghetti, I feel like that can be good.” You and Steve haven't cooked anything together, there's so many firsts between you two it makes you giddy. 

“It does sound good, you're right.” That's the second time he's said it but you’re always right. “I am not gonna lie to you though I am not the greatest cook.” He winces a little, hoping it doesn't put a dam on your plans. 

“That’s okay, what can you cook?” 

“Hmm like five things but I make pretty stellar pancakes, at least that's what the kids said.” 

“Perfect, we can have breakfast for dinner then. Do I need to go to the store to get anything for it?” If you were both in the privacy of his home he would dig his face into your neck and let out a groan. How could you change what you wanted just for his sake and then offer to buy him groceries. Your kindness is something Steve wants to absorb. 

“We really don’t have to change it honey. Whatever you want we can make that.” He’ll get back to the groceries later because you buying anything is a whole conversation in itself. 

“It’s really ok Steve, pancakes sound good and if they are so famous I need to know what the hype is about.” You say as you push yourself off the wall you were leaning on to wrap your arms around his neck.  Automatically his hands land on your hips. 

“You’re too good for me.” He lets his hands drag away from your hips to settle in the back pockets of your pants. 

Your small grin turns into a big smile at the action, he’s never done that but you hope he never stops. All this touching he’s doing makes you officially break, leaning against him to press a kiss to his lips. Steve is quick to respond and pushes you further into him. 

When it feels like Steve is starting to fall backwards from your leaning you squeal, breaking the kiss. It must be loud enough for Robin to hear as she's quick to yell.

“Steve, if I go over there I better see your cart fully empty.” It’s quick and snippy, not giving him any room to fight back. 

Steve however, rolls his eyes used to her lectures. 

“I guess I should let you work huh?” 

“I think you should stay here all day with me.” He obviously is joking but man you wish you could. 

“Then nothing would get done.” 

“Then good thing there's two workers here.” It’s said with the same tone you just had. 

“You’ll live wont your Stevie? I'll see you tomorrow!” 

Steve was so busy looking at your kiss-bitten lips he almost missed the new nickname you just gave him. You saying Steve sounded like velvet coming from your lips but, Stevie. Now that was pure sugar, something so sweet he could get a rush from. 

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see if I make it tomorrow.” He’s expecting that same sweetness to travel over but all he gets is a small hit on the arm. 

“Ow!” It didn't hurt at all but he pouted like it did and if his comment didn't make you feel light headed you would think about how adorable he looks all grumpy. 

“Don’t say that! I will see you tomorrow at 5pm sharp.” You say factually, finally leaving this corner you both have been glued to. 

“Yes I will see you tomorrow honey.” He says as he follows your every step. You’re walking towards the door, trying to leave so he can do his job and not get fired. 

“Wait, one more kiss?” 

Smiling you quickly turns on your heels. Your hands cup his jaw and you start giving him a kiss on his nose, cheeks, and finally his lips. 

“Have a good rest of your shift.” It comes out quieter as your face is extremely close to him from the kisses. 

“Thank you honey.” He gives you a peck himself, unable to hold back. “I’ll call you later tonight, okay?” 

He gets off in 3 hours, you’re not sure what more will change from now till then that he’ll have to tell you about but nonetheless you're excited to hear from him. 

“Okay, I'll be waiting.” 

“Bye, see you tomorrow.” Robin says walking up to your two. Not that there was a deep moment going on but whatever moment you were having now over. 

“Bye Stevie, bye Robin!” You say giving them a small wave as you leave. 

Steve watches to make sure you get to your car safely, sighing with big heart eyes as he looks at Robin. 

“Stevie huh?” She jokes. 

Her mocking voice alone pushes him back to reality and he rolls his eyes going back to his cart. He is already thinking of what you’ll talk about on the phone later tonight.

[radioactive-alien-thing]

Azuretime x reader polygamous please! We need more of them frfr

I'm not sure about the specific plots, but maybe when Azure came out as a killer for the first time and they all reunited?

You can choose whether or not reader was also in the cult. But they prooooobably didn't know about the sacrifice? Maybe they might've also almost got sacrificed, but Two time failed and they got Forsaken™ first?

Yeah, that's about it. I think. I forgot to say when I said we need more Azuretime x reader, I meant angst 😈😈 /hj

The relationship is gonna so strained, but the dynamic would be kind of interesting?

Take your time with the requests! Your health and happiness is the first priority!

❤️❤️❤️❤️ /Platonic

HAAAIIII omgosh sorry this took so long!!! and sorry if it’s. not the best!!! i hardly write angsty so thank you for this practice!!! hope u enjoy regardless<3

azure x two time x reader - unspoken confessions

not much really concerns you these days. after numerous weeks(?) of being stuck in a eerily cold & horrific realm, as if you were a lab rat in a cage, putting on a show for some mysterious ‘spectre’, you’ve pretty much gotten used to it.

of course, you still prayed to the Spawn every day, clinging to your faith in rough times like these. and you prayed for your partners, too- wherever they were. if they were even safe. at least they didn’t have to suffer in this place, wherever you were… could be hell, could be purgatory. you weren’t all too sure.

but it didn’t take long for things to shift and you quickly regretted ever feeling hopeful. eventually, two time ended up in the same realm as you, though something about them was off. you noticed it right away, the air of tension, the defensive glint in their eyes. they felt distant, hesitant. when you reached out for a hug, relieved to see one of your partners after convincing yourself you never would again, they flinched.

that’s fine, though. that’s absolutely okay, you told yourself. two time must be incredibly overwhelmed. confused, maybe even scared. after all, there was only one way to end up here, and it wasn’t exactly by natural fate. you didn’t pry, they didn’t want to talk about it. but when you finally mentioned your attacker fleeing and leaving you to bleed out, a small frown flickered across their face. just for a moment, you thought you saw something, some hint of emotion. you couldn’t tell if it was concern… or maybe regret?

so you brought up your second biggest concern, a bit of anxiety settling in. azure. what about azure? was he okay? at the mention of his name, two time slightly stiffened, but their eyes continue to hold that same manic look, tense as if they were holding something back.

you barely got an answer. it hurt. you needed to know. but every time you tried to learn more, two time redirected the discussion back to the Spawn, always circling back to the one thing they were utterly obsessed with. and though you wouldn’t ever say it out loud, praise be to the Spawn, you were starting to grow agitated.

eventually you ended up in a match together, forming a tiny pact to watch each other’s backs. you noticed the spectre had let them keep their dagger, though you didn’t ask why. a weapon’s a weapon, and it’s pretty useful in this case. maybe it didn’t mean anything.

you’ve already repaired a few generators, but the lack of a killer was making you increasingly anxious. where the hell were they? did taph blow them up already? where was all the usual bloodshed? something was off.

“two time? two time?” you call out, presuming they had ditched you. so much for loyalty. you even made a mental note to give them absolute hell for it later, but the sight you walked into stopped you cold.

you initially didn’t want to believe it, but you couldn’t deny it for long. it was azure, but not the one you remembered. they were different- stronger, more intense. scarier. it didn’t take long for it to click. they were the killer.

azure’s eyes look almost regretful, maybe even sad, as their hands tighten around two time’s neck, choking the other cultist on the ground. the sight hit you like a truck and left your head reeling. instinct took over and you lunged forward, trying to pull them apart. everything went all blurry for a moment. azure’s eyes widened when he saw you, filled with a conflicted emotion that didn’t match his actions. it was almost like he wasn’t in control at all.

you did successfully manage to shove them apart. two time weakly crawled away, gasping for air. azure just stood still, shaking, hands twitching.

your eyes drift over to the small wound you left on azure’s cheek while trying to save two time. slowly, he reached up to graze it. every little move was tense.

without a word, azure turned sharply and forced himself to trudge away, footsteps unsteady. you didn’t try calling out to him. he didn’t bother looking back. all you could do was stare at the empty spot where he once stood, his silence louder than any words he could’ve left.

[blasphemyandbackshots]

Hii, can I have a one headcanon for Levi Ackerman? And maybe another one for Sebastian Michaelis pls 🥺

I'm love with your Dabi Headcanon is so perfect and CANON OMG 🖤🖤

And sorry for my bad English, I'm still learning 😭

baby, you did devine with your request & now sit back and let Levi and Sebastian tell you more about what they like

Levi Ackerman

1. controlled, commanding, devastating

He doesn’t lose control. He let go only when he decides to. “Hands on the headboard. Don’t move until I say,” he murmurs as he sinks into you with precision.

2. silent, but deadly filthy

He doesn’t need to shout. A single rasped “take it.” That’s all it takes. But when he leans in and mutters filth against your ear, “So tight. So wet. You like being used like a this?”, you break.

3. obsessive with cleanliness, except with you

He’ll wipe blood from his blade without blinking, but the slick mess between your thighs? His fingers will dip into it slowly and make you lick it off. “Don’t waste it,” he says with his eyes unreadable.

4. intensity kink

Eye contact that doesn’t waver. Fingers digging into your hips like he owns them. You whimper and he just breathes, “Louder.” Like he wants to watch you unravel molecule by molecule.

5. pain and pleasure balance

He’ll spank you, bite you and pinch your nipples until you arch. Then soothe it with his tongue, making you beg for more. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” he whispers. “Then why are you clenching around me like that?”

6. choking kink, wrist grabbing, boot-on-the-bed dominance

One hand around your throat. The other holding your wrists above your head. He fucks you with slow, brutal strokes as he watches your expression twist. “You can take it,” he whispers. “You will.”

7. never smiles until you whimper his name

He’s blank until you start crying out Levi, Levi, like you’ll fall apart without him. Then that little smirk shows. Just once. “That’s more like it.”

8. makes you come harder than you thought possible

He won’t stop. Not when you come once. Not even twice. He’ll overstimulate you until you scream and then he’ll grunt, “That’s the sound I wanted.”

9. tells you how good you are, but only at the breaking point

“You’re taking me so well.” | “Look at that pretty hole sucking me in.” But only when you’re nearly sobbing from how full you feel.

10. aftercare that will ruin you emotionally

He’ll clean you with warm cloths, massage the red marks from your hips and wrap you in his shirt. Then he tugs you under his chin, and whispers, “I’ve got you.” And that, not the otherworldly sex, is what destroys you.

Sebastian Michaelis

1. refined depravity

He doesn’t just fuck. He devours. Kisses down your spine, drags his tongue between your thighs and murmurs in that silken voice, “May I?” He ruins you with elegance.

2. a perfect gentleman until he isn’t

He’ll bow before you, help you undress and stroke your hair. But the second you moan for him? That smile sharpens, the gloves come off and you’re pinned beneath him, gasping for breath.

3. size kink, power kink, voice kink - he has them all

He’s bigger, stronger, smarter. He knows exactly how much you can take and he’ll push one inch further. “You said you could handle me,” he purrs. “Prove it.”

4. worship and humiliation, depending on his mood

One night? He calls you his precious pet, praises your every sound. The next? He has you on your knees, cum on your lips, whispering, “Look how desperate you are. Filthy little thing.”

5. sex as control

He makes you ask and beg for it. He wants you trembling just from his voice, “You’ll come when I say. Not a second before. Understood?”

6. possessive and deeply territorial

Marks everywhere, on your neck, on your thighs and chest, but more so he stains your soul. “You’re mine now,” he whispers against your mouth, “body and contract.”

7. teasing until you’re soaked and sobbing

His fingers deep inside you, tongue toying with your clit, but never enough. He makes you cry until he finally pushes into you and says, “So impatient. Shall we begin?”

8. inhuman stamina

He doesn’t stop or tire. He’ll keep you writhing, aching and overflowing until your voice gives out and you can’t remember how many times you’ve orgasmed.

9. he makes you feel like the only soul on earth

When he touches you nothing else exists. The world disappears. His gaze pins you down. “What is your desire?” he whispers. “Command me.”

10. aftercare so haunting it feels like a dream

He wraps you in silk sheets and strokes your hair. He cleans you with a warm cloth between your legs. His voice grows soft as he kisses your neck, “Sleep well, my sweet. I’ll be here when you wake.”

[midnightshindig]

Cecil, Donald & Allen the Alien dating a daycare worker reader headcanons.

The reader takes care of super-powered toddlers, baby monsters, aliens. The reader is very maternal and caring and protective over her children.

Allen, Cecil, and Donald x Daycare worker!Reader

Loved this request! Sorry, it took me so long to get around to these ^^

hcs under the cut

Allen

Allen is a very fun uncle/older brother figure to the children he's around

He interacts with children by letting them dangle off his bicep, which enthralls pretty much every age group

He's durable as shit, so he's one of the only people some of your more gifted superpowered wards can play with without having to hold back

It's pretty heartwarming to see him get along with the kids so well, and they totally love him

He helps you with stuff like naptime and keeping them all in line

You couldn't ask for a better assistant <3

Cecil

He's a little disgusted by children

Not like he genuinely hates them or anything, he thinks they're important and the future of the world or whatever

HE just doesn't enjoy being around them very much

Mostly because he ISNT GOOD AT IT

But he respects the hell out of you for being so good at it

He loves working with you to match you up with superpowered children

It's an efficient system for both of you

He's endeared by your work stories, loves hearing about kids and their antics

"And then I tried to take him to the park, and he FLEW me there!! It was terrifying, he's the size of a fourth grader!" You laughed, sitting next to him in bed, winding down for the night

"That's unhinged. You're not hurt, are you?"

"No, I'm alright my love, he was very responsible :)"

He sighed, putting his hand over yours "I'm glad you had a good day with the kids."

"Me too... they really bring a sense of purpose to my life."

the air was still, and a quiet, loving moment passed between the two of you

Donald

He loves hearing all the entertaining stories about what you get up to at work

The kids you work with have seen him sparingly, mostly when he's bringing you lunch and/or the kids see him at the GDA

They call him 'Y/n's friend' and DO NOT know his actual name

He's just a silly little guy who loves kids despite his stoic nature

He knows the small things about every kid you sit for, who has what allergies, and what they want to be when they grow up

It's an efficient system sometimes, you watch over some superpowered children who want to be superheroes, and Donald helps them safely pursue that goal

Sometimes you come home stressed from work, working with superpowered children is difficult

And sometimes it gets to you

"Hey, love, how was work?" Donald asks, his normal monotonous voice filling your bedroom as you crashed onto the mattress face-first

"ughhhuffdsfisjdoicdsvfdguter I'm going to go gray...." you groaned, scooting up to bury your face in his chest

He petted the back of your hair "Oh... tell me about it."

And so you did

And he listened, offering you his ear and his advice when prompted for it

he made a good support system

[adieutristana]

was i just a fool? jinx x fem!reader

i want to do more songfics and i’ve been on a fleetwood mac kick lately so…! here’s some angst

inspired by ‘silver springs’ by fleetwood mac

summary; after her attack on the council, jinx decides it’s best to break up. it’s been months, and she can’t move on.

characters included; jinx

tags/warnings; angst, hurt no comfort, break-up/post break-up, takes place beginning of s2, mentions of poor mental health, mentions of alcohol but no drinking, r works at the last drop, dual pov (kinda), jinx spiraling

men dni.

jinx feels like her heart might just leap out of her chest, right through her throat.

she's stood in front of your apartment, twiddling your thumbs and trembling. the previous week had been nothing short of chaotic- with her kidnapping her sister and sister's girlfriend, accidentally killing silco, and blowing up piltover's councilroom.

you knew, of course you did. you were the first person jinx ran to afterward, because she trusted you, and you've been the one constant in her life. with shaking limbs and hot tears running down her face, she'd collapsed onto your lap in a fit of shaky sobs.

"i'm sorry- i, oh gods, i'm so sorry..."

"shh, shh," you'd whispered, rubbing soothing circles into your girlfriend's lower back. were you confused, conflicted? of course. jinx had just done an objectively terrible thing, killed someone- probably multiple someones in just one night, but part of you could understand why she did it.

she was overwhelmed. she felt hurt, betrayed. discovering that your sister is dating an enforcer after her history with enforcers, being as volatile as jinx is and feeling rejected by vi over and over again. being actively manipulated by silco. if you were in her situation, you might've done the same.

"you're not mad at me, are you?'' she'd sniffled, looking at you through tears. to which you only placed a kiss on her damp forehead. "please don't be mad at me. please. not you."

"i'm a little confused, but no, i'm not mad."

every word and touch from you made jinx positively melt, and she never knew what she'd done to deserve this kind of kindness. you could see her lash out, hallucinate, try to hurt herself, hurt others- do some of the most monstrous acts possible, but you still found it in yourself to be gentle with her, and love her. she's never seen that in the cards for herself.

but it's that goodness you have in you that kills jinx. because she's convinced herself after that attack that somehow, she's going to make your life worse. she might hurt you. she might accidentally put you in danger. and even if none of that happens, you just deserve someone better than her. someone who has a stable head on their shoulders, and can provide you comfort. that same sweet and gentle love that you give her, despite her best efforts to be what you need.

she can hear her heartbeat in her ears, but slowly raises a fist to knock at your door. knock, knock, knock- and then silence. it's only fifteen seconds maximum before the door swings open, but it might as well be forever.

"oh, hey, babe," you hum, a light smile tugging at the corners of your lips. you clearly weren't expecting her, but she figured this wasn't the kind of visit she'd want you to plan for. "i, uh.. didn't know you were coming. do you wanna come in? i could get you water, or i've got some juice-"

"no, thanks," she interjects, her voice trembling. this doesn't go unnoticed by you, though- and your brows are immediately furrowed.

"hey... what's going on?"

so much, she wants to say. i feel like shit, i don't know what my purpose is, i've already got several warrants out for my arrest, and i just killed the only father figure i have left. i don't know what to do with myself, i'm barely sleeping, i'm barely eating.

"i think we should break up," is what comes out instead.

the color drains from your face almost immediately, and oh, does jinx hate the sight. looking at you right now might be one of the hardest things she's ever done, but..

"huh?" your voice is small, shaky. this is the last thing you'd expected, clearly. things were going so well, you reassured her after everything, what's the problem?

"i think we should... break up," she repeats. "i'm not good for you. you deserve somebody who is."

your first instinct is to reach out in an attempt to pull jinx into your arms, but she flinches away and shakes her head. her throat bobs as she swallows nervously, and takes a step back.

"jinx.. of course you're good for me," you whisper, almost taking on a pleading tone. "you make me so happy. you're loving, you're smart, you're funny, i feel like i can forget everything else when we're together. you're perfect for me."

"but i'm not," and her voice is getting a bit more aggressive, the same way you've seen her get when people lie to her, and you can't help but wonder if she thinks you're lying to her. even though you never would. "i'm not a good person. i've done horrible things. killed people, destroyed people's lives. you know that, and you're- you're still here, for some damn reason."

"i'm here because i love you," you whisper, voice breaking midway through. your eyes are filling with tears, the thought of your girlfriend leaving is unbearable. "i love you. you've only ever been good to me, and i know you've done things, but i see you, jinx. not for what you show others, but for who you are."

jinx just swallows back bitter tears, and steps back. once, then twice.

"i'm sorry," she whispers, her voice trembling. "i love you too. i'm doing this because i love you."

another moment, and she's gone.

you're not sure what to do in that instance- scream? cry? bolt down the apartment complex's hallways in hopes to find her and beg her to stay? but you don't do any of that, you only stand in the same spot, your gaze fixed on where your girlfriend- no, your ex, stood just a minute ago.

✧.*

jinx hasn't left her hideout in days.

she wants to, she knows that she should, logically. fresh air would serve her good, even if what zaun has barely qualifies as 'fresh.' she could go outside, blow song things up, get some spray paint and cause mayhem in piltover. anything to get her mind off of things, but she can't.

all that she's able to do is lay in her cot and stare, her only company her own thoughts. she hasn't cried once since she left, though maybe she wishes she could. it'd be better than constant deafening silence and not being able to move from one spot. the image of your face when she uttered those words- 'i think we should break up,' haunts her like no other.

she's dealt with a lot in this life. death, war, destruction. but the expression she saw that day, like she had ripped out your heart and stomped on it, breaks her. she made you feel like that. she did that to you.

so she'll try not to love you, even though it kills her inside. she'll try to put you out of her memory and pretend nothing happened, or that you're in the distant past at best.

she's bullshitting herself, and she knows it. but there's no better way to cope. and for the first time since that day, she feels tears welling in her eyes, hot and wet and- oh gods, they won't stop. she's trembling all of a sudden, her breath coming to her in ragged gasps.

it feels as though the world is closing in on her, a weight on jinx's chest that's absolutely crushing. you're gone. it hits her all at once, like she hasn't spent the past few days without you, but maybe part of her was hoping you'd come knocking.

but you didn't.

you're gone, and it's all her doing. you, the one who loved her fearlessly and desperately. stupid, failure, fuck-up, she tells herself.

✧.*

all you've done is cry. you've cried and cried until you thought you might drown yourself in it, having to change your pillowcase at least once each evening. after everything you'd given jinx, why? you were the happiest version of yourself when you were her girlfriend.

her love was always unconventional, sure. but it was unabashed and fierce. the way that she loved you was all-consuming, like you could drown in it. the harder you fell for her at the beginning, the more it felt like the air was being sucked from your lungs- but you never wanted to rise above water. not for a second.

and now you've cried until you can't anymore. the most difficult part of all this might've been having to delete the countless photos of you both in your camera roll. ones where she's pressing her lips to your cheek, smiling with her arms wrapped around your waist, on your back after she insisted you carry her because 'it'll be fun.' the worst are the live photos, which you can't bear to replay.

but still, you have a life to lead. you have to pay rent somehow, so you drag your heels to work every day, mindlessly greeting customers. bussing tables, switching roles, taking orders, making the occasional drink or two. you did actually like this job at some point; decent pay, good coworkers, the only downside was shitty hours and having to deal with drunk customers. now, you're going through the motions. whatever will make ends meet.

clock in, do your tasks, clock out. walk back to your shitty apartment, take a shower, stand under the hot water until you can't bear it, then step out, get dressed, and go to bed. rinse, recycle, repeat.

you're beautiful, that much has always been clear. you're not exactly sought after, but there's the occasional comment- like when you're scrubbing a wine glass, trying not to think about losing the love of your life-

"hey, bartender," a woman calls from the side bar, and you immediately set down the glass, approaching the counter.

"anything i can do for you?" you ask, though less enthusiastic than you normally would. a young woman, probably around your age. she doesn't look too out of it, so this should be a relatively easy interaction.

"uh, yeah," she chuckles, leaning forward on her elbows. "a bottle of bacardi light please, and... your number."

a beat of silence- the woman is objectively pretty, she seems forward enough. she isn't drunk out of her mind like a lot of other customers on a friday night, she seems genuinely interested, but could she love you like jinx did?

nobody could.

"i'll get you that drink," you reply, trying to put on a polite smile. "but i like to keep that information private."

for all jinx knows, you could be chatting up some girl in a club right now. maybe you're at dinner with a woman right now, laughing over lit candles and red wine. another woman's lips on yours, the place where hers were for so long.

and this hypothetical woman- could you love her? is she pretty? she doesn't want to know.

✧.*

it's been a month and a half now, but jinx hasn't been able to throw away any of your gifts, or any of the things you left at her hideout.

they stare at her from her workbench, from under her bed, mocking her. reminding her of what she once had, but let go of and has no chance of getting back. she thought letting you go would make things better, she could eventually forget you and move on, but she's starting to realize that might never happen.

because of something she did, she left behind the best thing she ever had. even though you promised to stick by her side through absolutely everything. it was supposed to be you and jinx against the world, but now it feels as if you're a world away.

she shifts on the workbench, trying to focus on the task at hand. focus, jinx. focus. she's just reworking pow pow, giving it some upgrades, but she's already burned her fingertips more times than she'd like to admit... and forgot to turn on the blowtorch, and almost tripped over wires, and used the wrong screwdriver heads. truth is, the girl's mind is anywhere but on her work.

"oh, fuck me," she grumbles, slamming the tool down. her body trembles with each move she makes.

her mind is on your scent, your lips, the way your laughter made her heart contract, the sound of you saying her name. damn it, damn it all.

the more she thinks, though, it becomes apparent that she's grateful. below all of the self-loathing, she's glad she got to love you, even if she had to go and fuck it up. it's worth it, because she got to know your warmth for a time, and she wishes so badly that could be enough.

a card she used to open and read any time she felt down glares at her from the workbench, one you'd made for your six month anniversary.

"jinx,

it's been half a year with you. can you believe it? it feels like it's been so much shorter, because i always have so much fun with you. i don't think you realize how happy you make me, or how much i love you. i plan to spend the rest of our anniversaries showing you, though. happy six months ♡

-your trinket"

she hasn't opened it since, and now, the way it seems to shake her by the shoulders and scream "you had one shot," and "she must've already moved on." she can't help the yell that erupts from her chest, or the way she hastily sweeps everything off the workbench.

"fuck you, fuck you! shut up! i did what i had to!"

✧.*

it isn't often that jinx finds herself at the last drop these days. knowing that you're one of the top-performing bartenders has steered her away. while she used to come sit at the counter during your shifts, chatting away while you kept rounds of less-than-nutritious bar food coming, she steers clear now.

no matter how enticing the thought is, or how much she misses the place her childhood self once called a sanctuary, she doesn't go in.

except today, she can't help herself, it's a visceral need. she misses the run-down booths and idle chatter with 'chuck,' and she misses you.

despite the girl doing everything in her power to distract herself from the feeling and her love, she's found herself powerless. she's always been powerless when it comes to you.

the heavy doors swing open, and the smell of liquor is immediate. happy hour has just passed, but the troves of customers remain. laughter and chatter overlap to a sort of informal symphony, one she used to be comforted by.

jinx knows the place like the back of her hand now, and retreats to a middle booth. the drink menus are already laid out, but she isn't interested in any of that. she doesn't want a quick buzz or even some overpriced heated-up food, she just wants to be there. maybe catch a glance of your face. just one would be enough.

she's close enough to the bar, but not close enough to draw attention to herself. hopefully.

a host- a new hire, presumably, approaches the girl's table and quickly eyes her. "anything for you today?"

"...no, not today."

a packed saturday night probably wasn't the best way to clear her head, or even get to see you, now that she realizes the bar is full and you're likely going to be backed up on orders all shift. but at this point, where she knows she was just a damn fool for letting you go, she's desperate.

her appetite is gone and she hasn't been able to create things the way she used to. she needs you so desperately. every second she's spent away from you has felt like her body being slowly ripped in half. she'd follow you to the ends of runeterra if she meant she'd get a glimpse of your beauty once more. if you could hear the sound of her voice begging for you to let her just love you again.

then she hears it, the all too familiar ring of your laughter. jinx's head whips in the direction of the sound and she sees you conversing with a colleague, your arm raised like you're pouring a drink. she can't tell exactly, not with all of the patrons gathered around.

but you look happy. genuinely happy. she doesn't know how much you've cried over her or the fact you had to restrain yourself from calling her that morning, only that you're enjoying yourself. without her.

that sound that she used to hear every night at her place, now just a distant noise in a bar. though the second she sees your gaze turn toward her side of the seating area, she retreats back into the booth. don't get caught, jinx. she can't see you. she doesn't want to see you.

is this all the satisfaction she'll be able to get, watching you from your workplace while you move on with your life? seeing your face from rooms apart and pictures instead of holding it, kissing it? it's absolute torture, but there's no way she'll have any more than this.

she hears it again, a clear rustle of laughter followed by, "oh, you- stop! thieram's gonna kick our asses for that!"

it's clear as day, and it hurts. twists in her stomach. if only she could hear her name in that voice one more time, if only, if only, if only.

she'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved her.

[eddiazx]

fighting words - eddie diaz x reader

Based on this request: Oooh maybe a like fic where reader is Chris step mom and he got in trouble for something and Eddie is scolding him but reader tells Eddie that it’s not a big deal and he shouldn’t yell and talk to Chris like that and he basically tells her that she’s his step mom not his real mom so she has no say and reader ofc gets upset and leaves BUT they both work together at the 118 and she ignores him and stuff!

"Chris, there is a reason why you have a curfew! You have to respect it!" Eddie scolds Chris, hands on his hips, eyes wide and frightened.

Chris sits with his jaw clenched, looking so much like his father when he's upset, remaining silent.

"Hey Eddie," you say softly, "maybe we can talk about this in the morning? After all, he was only a few minutes late."

"No, you're not his actual parent, this doesn't concern you!" Eddie snaps, and just as soon as the words come out of his mouth, Eddie is filled with dread and regret.

You flinch but nod firmly, grabbing your car keys before leaving for the night.

One of the worst parts of working with your friends and husband is that everyone knows everyone's business. You walk into the 118 the next day, pulling on your uniform, and steadfastly ignore Eddie despite his locker being right next to yours.

You pair up with Ravi for errands, you sit down in between Hen and Chim for lunch, and play foosball with Buck, but completely avoid being next to him or interacting with him.

You can feel his pitiful, regret-filled eyes on you the whole day. You lean as much as you can towards Hen in the engine, trying to avoid Eddie's knees knocking against yours - a gesture that is usually comforting for you. You remain a consummate professional though - you complete the tasks asked of you, just without sparing him a single glance.

"Jeez, man. What did you do?" You hear Buck ask Eddie after lunch. Mealtimes are moments when the two of you are normally constantly in each other's bubble, and literally everyone caught onto the tension.

"Hey, Y/N. Can I speak to you?" Bobby asks, kind eyes on yours.

You nod and follow Bobby into his office. The second your butt hits the chair, and you hear the click of his door closing, you blurt out: "I've been a professional, Cap!"

Bobby blinks in surprise, but recovers quickly. "I know you've been. But we noticed that something was wrong regardless because we know and care about you both. Do you want to talk about it, kid?"

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth before choking it out, emotion heavy in your voice. "He said I wasn't Chris' parent, Cap."

Bobby winces. "What was the context?"

"Chris came home after curfew."

"Sounds like it was said out of fear. Not that I'm excusing it - but a lot of the times people can say unfair and untrue things when they're scared."

You exhale, nodding because you did understand why he could've said it. It didn't make it hurt any less though. Nevertheless, you know the two of you need to have a conversation; you were just prolonging the inevitable at this point.

Which brings you to the end of the shift, where you stood in front of Eddie's Jeep in the parking lot.

"Y/N." Eddie breathes in both disbelief and relief at the sight of you actually waiting for him. "I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean it. You are Chris' parent, and you have been ever since you came into his life. I was just so scared last night when he didn't come home on time."

"I can understand that fear, Eddie. But, you hurt me when you said that. I didn't deserve that."

"I know. I think I've been so used to parenting Chris by myself that I forgot I have you. I have an amazing partner. I know that I hurt you, but I'm going to spend the next however long trying to make it up to you."

You give him a small nod, and an equally small smile - one that grows bigger the more you look at him. You never could stay mad at Eddie for long.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie questions, a little shy.

"Please." You answer, and you feel your husband's firm lips on yours. The kiss is a reconciliation; a little desperate and a lot passionate, especially for a fire station parking lot.

"Get a room!" Buck yells from across the lot, before Hen smacks his shoulder.

The two of you giggle into each other's mouth. Eddie separates just enough to ask, "Let's go home?"

"Let's." You confirm, getting into the passenger seat of his Jeep, where you rightfully belong.

[yanadolls]

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS TONIGHT ✧˖°.

||| FEATURING: REO MIKAGE X FEM READER

||| 18+, MDNI ── .✦ drunk sex, semi-public sex, praising, degrading, petnames, slight obsession, spanking, breeding kink, almost being caught

||| SUMMARY: reo attends yet another boring party with his parents, but when he meets you and learns how uninterested you are in him at first, he immediately yearns for you.

-

reo adjusted his tie in the bathroom as he stood in front of a mirror, head a bit fuzzy from the alcohol he consumed. it was really the only way he could handle these gatherings- they were so lame! he hated that his parents forced him to attend to keep up the mikage image even in his adult life, and he grew pretty exhausted already of the long business conversations. however, he knew he had to go back out there so with a grumble, he pushed the door open and exited. as he was rounding the corner to head towards the ballroom, he felt a body collide with his chest.

"oh, sorry."

"it's okay, i'm sorry as well. i wasn't looking where i was going."

upon hearing the feminine voice, his purple eyes roamed down to see who he bumped into, only to find out it was quite as beautiful girl. from your dress to your makeup, you were breathtaking and even he could admit that. considering reo was tipsy already and not very interested in going back to the party, he decided he might as well flirt a bit. a charming smile came to his lips as he took your smaller hand in his and placed a chaste kiss to the back of it.

"my, my. you're a beauty, dolly. which family are you attending with?"

'she shouldn't be too difficult.' the thought ran through his mind.

although when his eyes trailed back up to you, his smile faltered a bit. he wasn't met with the typical blushing face any other girl would've had- no, instead, you looked at him with a look that screamed how weirded out you were.

"thanks, i guess.. but i don't think i'm gonna give you that information. bye."

the shock was obvious on his face as you yanked your hand out from his and walked off. this was something reo was NOT used to. did this girl seriously just reject his advance? well, screw you anyway! he only wanted a distraction.

that's what he told himself as he grumbled back to the ballroom, getting another glass of champagne.

the more reo drank, the more bothered he was by the fact he actually had gotten rejected. it wasn't long before he was pretty drunk, and found himself eyeing you from across the room way more than he should've. the longer he stared at you, he felt an odd feeling bubble up in his chest. you were really gorgeous, and the tight dress that hugged your pretty curves and showed off your thighs was making the room a bit hotter for him.

the whole night reo continued to try to make moves on you, but they were all brushed off or shut down swiftly. he grew evermore frustrated as time went on, but he refused to give up. it just wasn't in his nature.

after a couple more drinks of your own, you were quite drunk as well, stumbling out of the ballroom to get some air. reo followed you and before you could rush down the hall from him, he grabbed your wrist tightly, spinning you around and bringing you to his chest. he glared down at you.

"am i ugly or something?" he started, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

you were unable to get out of his hold as his other hand moved to grip your waist- not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make you stay put.

"that's not even the problem! i just don't want some rich playboy trying to make me one of his toys!"

reo growled at your words. "that's not what i'm trying to do. is it so hard to believe i'm just interested in you?"

"yeah, it actually is."

"then let me prove it to you! i'll show you it's worth it to take a risk with me."

reo didn't know why he was so desperate to have you, considering the fact he had only just seen your face for the first time two hours ago. maybe it was the fact that you were so different from other potential sweethearts he had in the past, or that you didn't give him what he wanted from the start. whatever it was, reo didn't care. he needed to make you his.

a large hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him. without any warning, he crashed his lips against yours, alcohol swimming in his mind. to his surprise, you actually reciprocated, moving your hands to hold his face as your tongues pushed against each others. you were giving him a chance, and reo couldn't be happier.

was it inappropriate to be making out in the middle of a hallway in someone else's estate, where both of your families could see you? 100%. although, it didn't seem like either of you cared as reo gently pushed you against the wall, hand hooking under one of your thighs and lifting it to hold against his hip.

"fuck, m'gonna make you mine."

reo grumbled on your lips, his much taller body caging you against the wall. it was a blur how or when you both moved into a nearby closet, but it happened; and now reo was sitting you on a heavy box, spreading your legs open hungrily.

"to think you tried to keep me from this.. gonna fuck you so hard for that."

you felt embarrassment rush to your face at his words, arousal pooling between your thighs at the mere thought. his thumb pressed against your sensitive clit through your damp panties, eliciting a moan from you. reo's cock twitched in his pants as he harshly tugged the lacey panty down to your ankles, revealing your glistening pussy. he couldn't help but groan at the sight, pressing his free hand roughly against his aching and throbbing hard-on.

"sooo fucking pretty. gonna ruin you for anyone else, princess."

"c'mon, reo.. just fuck me already.."

reo hissed at your words, unbuckling his belt in a rush. normally, he would've teased you for hours on end just for doing what you did tonight, but he was too drunk and horny to care. all he wanted right now was to be deep inside your gummy walls. he let out a small sigh as he released his dick from his boxers, only pushing his pants down to his thighs before he grabbed you and held you in his arms. your legs instantly hooked around his waist as you prepared yourself for what was about to happen. reo was big- bigger than anyone you had ever been with.

"oh, fuck!"

your legs trembled as he slowly pushed into your tight hole, the stretch from his large cock making your mind go blank. it hurt like hell at first, but once he was fully in, your pain turned to pleasure. reo pressed your back against the wall as he fucked you with experience, mouth sloppily biting at your neck to scatter dark hickeys across your smooth skin. moans spilled from your pretty lips as you felt your guts being totally rearranged by the handsome rich boy, your hands scratching at the back of his suit.

"pussy feels incredible, baby." he groaned out, "like it was made for me and only me."

his words made you clench around his dick, giving more pleasure for the both of you. reo continued abusing your poor cunt, silencing your whines and moans by kissing you passionately.

however, even in such an intoxicated and heated state, reo faintly picked up on the sounds of footsteps coming down the hallway. his movements halted in you, much to your dismay.

"ugh, asshole! why'd you stop-"

reo quickly covered your mouth, although he didn't pull out of you. he brought your body closer to his, dropping his head down beside your ear so he could whisper.

"don't make a sound."

before you could question why he was requesting such a thing, sudden voices could be heard approaching the closet. your heart fell to your stomach.

"someone said they heard weird noises coming from this direction.. what could it be?"

"darling, it could just be from outside."

the couple who were throwing the party in their own home were one door away from finding THE mikage reo balls deep into a girl he just met. you bit down on your bottom lip harshly, but a part of you couldn't help but feel more aroused at the thought of being caught getting your pussy pounded by the purple haired man. unintentionally, you clenched around reo, who held back a noise at the feeling- but barely.

"the hell are you doing?!" he whisper hissed at you, "you trying to get us caught?"

no, you weren't. honestly, it would be a horrifying situation to be placed in if the two discovered what was happening in their unlocked closet just a few feet from them. maybe it was because of the alcohol you consumed, but you weren't even thinking about that consequence you would face as you clenched down on reo again, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the door handle jiggled as you both held your breaths in horror.

"..excuse me!"

a sudden voice called from further away, and the doorknob was released.

"there's a stray cat in the bathroom down the other hallway! it appears to have snuck in through the window!"

what a lucky coincidence. footsteps backed away from the closet you were both hiding.

"oh..that must be what the noises were. come, honey. we have a cat to catch!"

only did you sigh of relief once the footsteps had totally faded, leaving you in the clear from being caught. however, what you weren't in the clear from was the little stunt you had pulled during the tense situation. reo suddenly pulled out and flipped you around, pushing you to bend over the box as he yanked your dress to your waist, placing a harsh slap on your ass.

"you some kind of slut? the fuck were you trying to do back there, huh? did you want that poor, old couple to see how well i fuck you? how well you take my fat cock?"

he spanked you again, both the action and his dirty words going straight to your core. reo slammed into you again, setting a more brutal pace than before.

"yeah, you'll get what you want. take my dick like a good girl, cause you're not gonna be walking for days once i'm done with you tonight."

his hands roamed everywhere on you, no longer caring about how much noise you two were making. you had only fueled reo's growing obsession with you, and he wasn't planning on letting you go. he wanted to claim you as his, keep you for himself. his heavy balls slapped against your backside with each thrust as he fucked into you like a madman.

"aah! ohmygod, reo!" you cried out, "m'gonna cum, gonna c-cum so hard!"

"f-fuck- me too, princess. gonna fill you up so much till you're leaking with my cum. take it all, ugh- take it!"

with one last cry, you clenched down and came around his thick cock, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. reo hugged your waist tightly as he twitched in you a couple times before painting your walls in white. you rode out your orgasm with him before he pulled out of you slowly, collapsing onto your back. heavy breathing was the only sound that filled the small closet now.

"think i love you already... yeah, you're all mine, now." he pressed a kiss behind your ear, although it was more gentle now. "just wait till i take you home. you're now my girlfriend."

AN: i think this was my longest write yet KEKW, i love reo sm <3 also my requests are open!

[envy-of-the-apple]

ok ok maybe supernatural entities dont have to follow these hyperspecific rules. they just do it cuz humans will be less afraid of them?

just imagine Diavolo one day sitting, sipping tea with Barbatos by his side and suddenly poof he's transported from his castle to a really cramped human bedroom, and he's standing inside a circle.

He knows its a human bedroom because there's a human standing right in front of him, eyes wide and just watching like you cant believe it either.

before he can say anything the human is just like 'you can't move! I've trapped you' and then he's looking down at the circle drawn in chalk and a few weird pentagram shapes and he's like 'rlly?'

but he is kinda bored, and it's not like the human is too hard on the eyes.

if anything...you're a little cute actually. and he'd be lying if he said he didn't like the way you look at him: a mix of fear and awe at the same time.

so in the end, he decides to just go alone with it. he throws his arms up in the air and is like 'ah, yes, i've been trapped. what did you summon me here for?'

and you ask questions about whatever you can think of and he tries his best to answer. after that, you do summon him a few more times, and you and him kinda become friends. he starts to grow fond of you and he doesnt want you to be afraid of him so he stays well within the boundaries of the summoning circle, still pretending that he cant walk out of it. A few times he has asked you to make a bit bigger so he can move around a little more, and you've obliged.

Most days, a chair is waiting for him so he can sit down as well as a few baked goods you've made earlier that day. It's rlly nice to get away from the stress of devildom and just talk with a friend for a bit.

all things must come to an end eventually.

he's cautious but even a great demon forgets to play pretend sometimes. he might have picked up something you dropped, absentmindedly leaning over to collect it. He doesn't even realize what he did until you stop talking.

"Ah." Diavolo glances down at the circle he accidentally stepped out of. "I messed up, didn't I?"

He tries to smile, but it doesn't do much. Your entire stance has changed, flattened against the wall, muttering every prayer you could think of as you instantly forgot him as the man you joked with, but as a demon.

It's a little hurtful, but he tries not to let it affect him. It makes sense that you would be scared, he tells himself. It's only human to be afraid.

Still, he can't say he isn't too upset at not playing pretend anymore. Despite the way your skin trembles against his touch, it's just as warm and soft as he imagined it to be.

"I'm sorry for scaring you." He apologizes, softly petting your cheek. "I guess it was a little cruel of me to keep pretending like that, wasn't it?"

[pomefioredove]

can I have uhhhhh, a sugar cookie, sugar order 5 , with frosting, sprinkles, and powdered sugar :D

(i hope i did this right, love ur writing <3)

ofc and thank you!!

order #5, sugar with frosting, sprinkles, powdered sugar

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ runaway, runaway

summary: you take in a runaway, not knowing he's the son of the richest man in the land tropes: hurt/comfort, only one bed (kinda), coffee shop au characters: kalim additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is not yuu, pre-nrc so both reader and kalim are younger, had fun writing this :)

Heavy is the hand that holds the OPEN/CLOSED sign.

Stained are the sleeves that wear the apron, sore are the arms that grind the coffee, and so on.

Your family had fallen asleep hours ago, and you had only now finished cleaning the cabinets, sweeping up straw wrappers and stirring sticks, wiping the windows, and seeing to the stock.

When you promised your parents you would close the coffeehouse, you... well, weren't counting on this much work.

It's half-past twelve, and you think you could sleep for two years after this. There go your aspirations of being a business owner... but, at least nothing is broken. No trouble. Right?

You wander to the wide windows to close the curtains, one by one, shrouding the deserted coffeehouse in darkness. No one is out at this hour, and so you can take your time, admiring the night sky and all its sparkling stars through the-

ACK!

You startle, stumbling back into a low table and falling flat on your butt. Something moved out there- stray dog, it had to be- but it's right against the window, standing on two legs, palms pressed against the glass-

It's a boy! Not a child, but not yet grown, in a brown robe, hood pulled over his head.

You stand, bracing yourself with a broom. "We're closed,"

You were hoping he'd leave, though you were expecting him to shout profanities and pound against the glass.

Rather, he smiles. "Oh, hello! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just smelled something delicious, and I had to see what it was!"

You blink. This isn't a rough neighborhood, but you weren't expecting a polite chat with a boy in rags at midnight.

"What's your name?" he asks, smiling as if he'd just made a friend.

You tell him, and he laughs. "Wow, pretty! You don't hear names like that in my home. I'm Kalim al- uh, I'm lost, I mean. Where am I? It's too dark to read the signs,"

He can read, too. Still, he's wearing what looks like a burlap sack, baggy and brown, beads of sweat on his forehead from the dying heat of the desert, or perhaps from wandering, walking to nowhere all night.

He must be really poor, you reason. How sad, to not have a home to go home to! No bed to bundle up in! You wouldn't know what you'd do without your family, or your coffeehouse, or your room, your music, your clothes...

You balance your broom against the wall and let him inside. The door closes behind him with a thud.

"North, near the edge of the desert. Where are you from?"

"Oh, I'm..." he starts. "It's not important. I'm not going back. What do you guys make here?"

"Coffee and tea,"

"Oh, I love tea!" he smiles. "And coffee! Well, I love everything delicious. Jamil brews me this really good kind..."

"Who's Jamil?"

"He's- oh, right. He's, um, no one," Kalim says, crossing his arms and pretending to be disinterested. "Thank you for letting me in- you're really nice."

"Well... I wouldn't have let you wander out there. The desert here isn't the safest at night,"

His eyes widen. "Is it? I had no idea,"

How strange. He's so... happy, for someone who's led such a hard life. You suppose there's something admirable about that- smiling in the face of suffering.

"You can stay in my room," you say. "Just don't take anything, okay? My family doesn't have a lot."

Kalim nods and lets you lead him to another door, his voice dropping low. "I would never,"

There's something strangely familiar about this boy. Maybe you'd seen him on a milk carton, or something. You'd heard adults say that they do that in some towns. But not here- what are you thinking?

Kalim looks around your room, eyes wide at your clothes, your books, your desk full of paper and splattered with ink. He only sits on the bed when you ask him too (seeing him spin around the room was making you dizzy).

"So, what brings you here?" you ask, drawing your knees to your chest. He does the same, imitating you.

"I ran away from home,"

He admits it in an ashamed sort of way, as if he had committed a crime- you're not sure someone so sewn with guilt could do such a thing.

You tilt your head to the side. "Why? Were your parents cruel?"

"Oh, no, they were the best,"

"Were you being forced to marry someone you didn't love?"

"No, but that sounds scary,"

"Were they going to send you away to become a man?" you'd read that in a book, once.

"Oh, no!" Kalim says. "Worse than all of that. I did something awful."

As you'd suspected. "What did you do?"

He hugs his knees tighter to his chest, his head hung low. "I hurt someone I care about,"

"On purpose?"

"No,"

"Then why do you feel bad about it?"

"It was my fault," he says. "If I wasn't... who I am, then it never would have happened. Jamil is sick and it's all my fault."

There's that name again. His eyes glisten, reflecting the light of the stars in his tears. His hair is white, like the midnight moon. Where have you seen him before?

"I think Jamil will forgive you if you tell him how you feel," you offer. You'd also read that in a book, once. "If he cares about you like how you care about him, then he'll understand."

Kalim sniffles, wiping his nose on his burlap sleeve, pushing it up to reveal a sliver of silken white beneath. "But what if it happens again?"

You don't know how to answer that. The dark of the room makes everything feel more serious, solemn, as if you're at a funeral for someone you don't know.

"But what if it doesn't?"

Kalim is quiet, mumbling that question to himself. "But what if it doesn't...?"

You place a hand on his shoulder, almost protectively so, to give him peace of mind for the moment.

And then he hums. "But what if it doesn't? I like that," he wipes his tears on his sleeve and looks at you with that smile again. "You're really smart, you know. If I had to marry anyone, I'd hope it'd be you."

The sentiment, as sick with emotion as it is, stirs something in you.

Kalim is gone by morning. He might have left so as not to disturb you, but you know that he had gone home running, eager to see his friends again.

His family will be happy to see him, you wager. And you wonder if you'll see him again- will he be a boy at a bakery in another town? An apprentice at a blacksmith? Will his family own the next farm you find?

You can't be sure.

All you know, for now, is that somewhere in the world, there's a boy named Kalim, with a friend named Jamil, and you can only hope that they're happy.

[gldrushh]

GUILTY AS SIN? | DRABBLE

→ PAIRING: brother in law!jungkook x widowed fem!reader

→ WARNINGS: oc being a damsel in distress, emphasis on distress, mentions of insomnia, handyman!jk because he got us all feelings things, oc driving him insane (quite literally), whipped jk, flirty jk, unholy thoughts (can you blame her?), suggestive, kissing, fluff, domestic moments

→ W.C: 5.5k (whoops)

→ A/N: request from a cutieful ask that I accidentally deleted 😭😭🤦‍♀️ I'm so sorry anon I really hope you see this!! This was the ask for more context or if anyone's curious (I really hope I did it justice): "since you said you accept requests for drabbles etc.-or did you or am i making this up lol- i’d like to request a little thing. since i want y/n to understand how jungkook fits her life so easily, i imagined a little scenario in my head where something in her house gets broken and she can’t fix it by herself and gets it even messier and everything, and jungkook comes in and being a perfect handyman. Like literal husband material. Would fit in her house so well omg don’t judge me please you know what i mean right? Maybe she’ll get struck by a lightning and finally understand how jungkook is perfect for her and stops treating him with only little’s “i don’t hate you”😭😭😭 like helloo that is the most husband thing ever don’t live apart live together!!! plus handyman jk got me feeling things in my head ngl lol don’t judge me I’M SORRY HAVE A NICE DAY!💌"

Fridays didn’t feel like Fridays anymore.

There was a time when they smelled like oven-warm pizza and the kind of laughter that made your cheeks hurt.

They arrive quietly now, slipping in like a breeze through the kitchen window, brushing past your ankles before vanishing again.They were tired, you presume. Dragging their feet behind a week’s worth of lectures and papers, staff meetings and half-hearted nods in break rooms with bad coffee.

Tonight is no different. You return home just shy of the rise of moon, the university car park already thinning out as you sling your bag over your shoulder, exhaustion gnawing at the edges of your limbs. Your bag slumped onto the floor, missing its usual hook, but you didn’t bother correcting it. You barely managed to toe off your shoes when you enter inside, your mind already curled up beneath the comfort of your duvet, not asleep, but still.

The warmth here is a familiar embrace. The scent of coffee beans lingering from the morning, a sweater thrown carelessly over the arm of the couch, your favorite mug turned upside down on the drying rack. You nudge your shoss beneath the bench for some dignity, and hang your lanyard on the little ceramic hook shaped like a leaf--a flea market find you told yourself you didn’t need, but bought anyway.

You tell yourself you’ll spend the night in. Maybe watch reruns of that one reality show where couples decorate homes under a tight budget, even though the drama feels scripted and the contestants are always suspiciously good-looking. You’re too tired for anything else. And sleep isn't exactly your best friend. Hasn't been for years and the slender orange bottles in the bathroom self only help so much.

But you'll try to make peace with it. You'll pour yourself some tea.You'll pretend to rest.

You shrugged off your coat and padded into the kitchen, your socks catching on the cool tiles. Your mother had sent a whole box of chamomile tea and though you had deemed the purchase dramatic and unnecessary, it had become a part of your routine, even had helped. Maybe not with the sleep exactly, but with the ritual. The motion of it. Perhaps there was something about the way the steam curled from the mug, about the soft floral taste blooming on your tongue.

You flicked the kettle on with one hand, digging through the tea box with the other, thumb brushing over foil packets and paper tags. You were just reaching for the mug—the one with a tiny chip on the handle, the one you never threw out because it had once been Minho’s favorite—when it happened. A sputtering hiss, like the dying breath of an appliance on its last leg. You freeze.

You pad toward the sound with the kind of dread that only adult independence teaches you. The overhead light flickers as you walk in—rude. You flick it again, squinting into the sudden brightness, only to be met with the absolute betrayal of your faucet spurting water like it’s trying to reenact a geyser, sounding alarmingly like a cough—if sinks could cough.

You turned, slowly. The faucet gave one last shake like it was shivering, then spat out a violent stream of water that shot sideways—directly across the counter and onto the floor.

“Oh, come on—!”

It happened fast. One second you were watching, horrified, and the next, you were slipping on the tile, a yelp caught in your throat as you stumbled forward, narrowly avoiding a face-first dive into the cabinet doors. Water sprayed in chaotic, unholy arcs, and all you could do was scramble for the towel drawer and grab anything vaguely absorbent to try and... do what? Patch it? Mop the mess?

The kettle beeped softly behind you, as if offended that you weren’t paying attention.

You drop to your knees, arms full of misguided hope and whatever towel you had on hand. You tug open the cabinet beneath the sink, only to be greeted with a far more dramatic leak than you were prepared for. It's not just dripping—it’s running, and you don’t need to be a plumber to know that water should not be forming a shallow puddle across your kitchen tiles.

Still, you try.

From what you learned from that one experience ages ago. Atleast it felt like it. The last time this had happened, Minho had still been here. Not that he was a great help. He had crouched down next to you, equally clueless, wearing an old college hoodie with the sleeves pushed up and a flashlight clamped between his teeth. The entire operation had failed in spectacular fashion—he had twisted the wrong knob, somehow made it worse. You remember him saying, “This is why plumbers make so much, sweetheart,” shaking his dripping bangs out of his eyes like a soaked retriever and you both ended laughing so hard you forgot to be mad.

You wedge the towel beneath the pipe, curse softly when it does absolutely nothing, and press your palm against the cabinet in frustration. It doesn’t help. “No, no, no,” In fact, the towel slips, sending a fresh arc of water across your shirt, soaking you down to the skin.

“Cool. Great."

The kitchen light above you flickers again. The universe, it seems, has a flair for theatrics.

And somewhere deep down, as water laps against the hem of your slacks and frustration coils behind your teeth, you think that maybe you should call your father but even if he dropped everything, it would take him hours. And any plumber worth their salt wasn’t showing up past eleven on a Friday night.They’d quote you something ridiculous and half of them wouldn’t even show.

You sat back on your heels and stared at the faucet as if it had personally offended you.

“I just wanted tea,” you said to it, as if it cared.

The towel slipped again. A fresh wave of water hit your calf.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

When you opened them, you stood, slow and careful, the weight of water squelching in your socks. The kettle had long since finished boiling, and the kitchen now smelled faintly of wet cloth and chamomile. It hit you then. Sharp, stupid, and far too late.

You were going to have to deal with this yourself.

You looked around the mess—water creeping toward the rug, the under-sink cabinet now a tiny swamp—and, you felt like stomping on the floor.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you walked toward the living room, your wet socks squelching softly on the floor like some small betrayal with every step. To your phone.The living room lamp glowed with its usual mellow hush, casting a familiar amber warmth against the old armchair and the book you never finished last week.

You considered, briefly, knocking on a neighbor’s door. There was that older couple two houses down, always kind, always offering extra tangerines from their tree. But it was too late. Every window was dark. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where people stayed up. It was made of quiet porches, retired teachers, and families who went to bed after the ten o’clock news. You didn’t know many of them by name.

Besides, no one young lived here who had a wrench or a better idea or just... two working hands and a sense of plumbing.. Not anymore.

Your thumb hovered over your contact list. You scrolled aimlessly at first, names passing in a blur—colleagues, an ex-classmate from grad school, your old roommate who now lived somewhere with palm trees and said things like “detox weekends."

You paused when the screen stilled on him.

Jungkook.

The last message between you was just hours ago. You tapped it open, heartbeat hitching like it always did when you saw his name.

Jungkook [10:03 PM]:

"I can come pick you up."

You had replied right before you clocked out. The university halls had been emptying, and his voice had played in your head, low and patient in a way he rarely was with anyone else. But you had remembered his mother’s voice too—her mentioning something about an urgent meeting, his father stressed, something about a time-sensitive deal.

So you had told him no.

You [10:04 PM]:

"I heard mom talking about some big deal tonight. Focus on that. I’ll be fine, I promise."

Jungkook [10:05 PM]:

"I want to focus on you, angel."

You’d stared at that one a little longer. Your reply had come slow. Careful.

You [10:06 PM]:

"I’ll be okay. Just heading out now. I’ll text you when I reach."

Jungkook [10:06 PM]:

"Send me your location anyway, yeah?"

And you had. You remember the map loading. The little pin that showed you halfway between the library steps and the bus stop, your tired feet dragging. You had gotten home. You meant to message him.

You just… hadn’t.

And now you thumbed over his contact again, chewing the inside of your cheek.

Would it be selfish? What if he hadn’t wrapped up work yet? What if that deal was still unfolding across tense boardrooms and cigar-stale air, with his father pacing like a panther? You didn’t want to pull him away from it just because you couldn’t tame a faucet. You should figure this out alone. You could figure this out alone.

Your phone buzzed before you made a decision.

A message. From him.

Jungkook [11:40 PM]:

"Tell me you've reached home, angel."

Your stomach twisted. Guilt blooming like mold in the back of your throat. You opened the message and typed quickly.

You [11:41PM]:

"Yes! Sorry. I got in and just crashed a little. Long day. I forgot to text."

The typing bubble appeared immediately.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Jungkook [11:43 PM]:

"Live location. Again."

Your fingers hesitated. You frowned. That was odd. He sounded off. Sharper than usual. Not even the quietly protective version of him that surfaced on late walks or busy subway platforms. This was tight. Worried. Paranoid? You don’t wanna argue with that.

You tapped the map again, sent your updated location.

Your phone lit up again the second after, not even giving you the chance to type out and ask if he's good with his hands? (He is.)

Jungkook [11:43 PM]:

"I'm coming over."

You stared at the message. Read it twice. It was… certain. No question mark. No soft preface like he usually gave. Not like, “Should we stop by that bookstore again?” or “Feel like something sweet tonight?” No, nothing of that sort. He sounded definite.

You [11:45 PM]:

"Wait, now? Why? Is everything okay?"

Jungkook [11:46 PM]:

"It will be after I see you."

You sat back against the armrest, stunned silent for a second. And then, unexpectedly, your chest loosened. Not all the way. Not enough to erase the mess in your kitchen or dry your clothes or make you feel less like a walking soggy dishrag. But enough to let the weight shift, to let something else settle in.

You didn’t have to ask.

You didn’t even get the chance.

He was just coming.

There was something wild and lovely in that. And you had no reason to say no.

If anything, your knees were starting to ache and the towels weren’t doing much and if one more cabinet decided to leak, you might genuinely lose it.

You padded back into the kitchen with an exasperated sigh, hair tied up in a lopsided bun, wet socks thrown in the laundry basket and sleeves shoved past your elbows. The faucet was still dripping—not a full-on spray anymore, but enough that you had to keep a rag pressed under it while kneeling on a folded towel, praying the water wouldn't reach the hallway. The bucket you’d shoved under the sink was nearly full now.

“Come on,” you muttered, gripping the wrench tighter. “Just cooperate for once, you stupid little—” The knock came—two sharp raps, low and firm. The kind that didn’t ask for permission, just announced itself.

You startled, bumping your shoulder into the edge of the cabinet with a muffled curse. You stood up too fast, nearly slipping on the wet tile again as you shuffled your way toward the door, leaving a trail of soggy towel behind you like the saddest version of Hansel and Gretel.

When you opened the door, the hallway light spilled over the man in front of you—and for a moment, all you could do was stare.

Jungkook looked… wrong. Not bad. Just undone.

His hair was mussed, not in that calculated, magazine-cover way but like he'd dragged a hand through it too many times. His under shirt that complimented his navy blue suit jacket real nice was half-buttoned, slightly crooked, and the faint glint of moisture on his collarbone made you think he might’ve walked part of the way in the rain without noticing. Or maybe he’d driven with the windows down. You didn’t know.

But it was his face that startled you most.

There were creases that hadn’t been there earlier. Between his brows, along the line of his jaw—like worry had clawed through the muscle. His lips were pressed into a firm line, but his eyes—God, his eyes—landed on you like an earthquake landing on calm soil.

You opened your mouth to speak, maybe to ask what was wrong, but he beat you to it.

“Jesus, y/n.” He crossed the space in two strides and hauled you into him.His arms came around you, sudden and firm and full.

He pulled you to his chest like he needed to feel you breathe. You didn’t move. Couldn’t, really. Your cheek bumped against his chest and a sound of confusion spilled out of you, the worn material of his shirt warm under your skin, and his breath stuttered above you. You wondered if he hadn’t been breathing right. You wondered why.

Your forehead barely brushed his collarbone. He smelled like wind and smoke and his usual cologne, but the sharp edge of it was dulled by warmth. You didn’t even know what to say at first. Your hands fumbled before curling into the fabric of his coat. Your heart beat a little faster. “Jungkook…are you okay?” you managed, a little breathless, a little confused.

He didn’t answer immediately.

You felt it more than heard it—His chest rose again. Slowly this time. Not panicked. Just… relief. You felt the faint tremor of it, the way he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for too long. His hand at your back tightened, his other curled lightly around your shoulder, fingers flexing once, like he was still checking you were really there.

"You gave me a fucking scare." He rasped against your temple, low and rough like tension left him one muscle group at a time.

Your brows pulled together, breath catching. "What?"

"Your location glitched." His hand curved around the back of your head, his voice dropping to your ear. “Said you were halfway to some fucking bridge, then blinked out. You didn’t text, you didn’t call—” He closed his eyes for a second.

You blinked, contrition and some sort of realization crashing into your chest like a tidal wave.

His grip tightened as if remembering it. "I think I broke half the traffic laws in this city trying to get to you." he muttered, jaw clenching as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Red lights. Lanes. Might’ve clipped a side mirror. I don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Oh my god,” Your voice went small. “I—I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— I thought I sent it properly. I didn��t mean—”

He looked down at you then, brows still furrowed, frustration still etched into his face, but it was laced with something softer. Quiet worry. A tension he couldn’t seem to shake off even now, not when you were in his arms and clearly fine.

“I thought something happened to you,” he said, quieter now.

You couldn’t hold his gaze for too long. The penance burned too hot. You ducked your head, pressing your face into his shoulder, cheeks going warm. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.

“You should be.” he muttered, but one of his hands came up to cradle the back of your head. It took you a second too long to realize your fingers were still curled in his coat in an embarrassing grip.

Inevitably, you did pull back—just enough to catch your breath, to speak properly.

But his eyes didn’t leave you. They tracked you, unwavering.

And then they dropped.

His brows furrowed again, more subtly this time, like he was recalibrating. His eyes skimmed your form with a confusion you couldn’t quite place, until he paused halfway down, raising a lone brow.

You followed his line of sight and—

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Your dress shirt had soaked through somewhere along the way. You’d been too distracted, too frantic, to notice that the thin cotton now bore a dozen little damp spots where stray faucet spray had kissed your chest and abdomen. The fabric clung in places it shouldn't, half translucent under the low light, revealing the outline of the camisole underneath, and your cheeks went hot in record time.

Your eyes widened. You stepped back fast. “Shit—oh, god, the kitchen—” you breathed, half to yourself.You turned abruptly, feet splashing against the wet tile again, panic reigniting as the sound of dripping water resumed its dominance in your ears.

Jungkook followed. Of course he did. His long strides eating up the hallway carpet before he stopped at the kitchen threshold.

You, for lack of a better word, flung yourself inside and the sight that greeted you was even worse than before. The bucket was near overflowing. Towels had started slipping from their makeshift barricade. Water gleamed beneath the fridge now, threatening to reach the living room carpet. You cursed again, louder this time, and bent to wrestle the mop back into place even though it had already given up.

There was a beat of silence behind you.

Then Jungkook’s voice, dry and unimpressed: “What the hell happened in here?”

You turned your head, heat rushing to your face, your soggy sleeves dragging like guilty flags. "I didn’t mean for it to get this bad. The faucet handle cracked while I was making tea, and then it wouldn’t stop leaking. I tried to turn it off underneath, but I think the valve’s jammed or something, and then I slipped, and the towels weren’t enough, and—”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face now. Exasperation flashing over his features—but not directed at you, not exactly. More at the mess itself, at the helplessness it had clearly stirred in you.. "Baby."

"I know I didn't do great." You wipe your hands on your thighs uselessly.

He didn’t answer right away. Then—with that bone-deep steadiness you had come to expect from him—Jungkook moved. Sliding off his suit jacket with one smooth pull, the fabric whispering against itself as he tossed it over the back of a dining chair, careless in a way he never was in public.. His undershirt clung to his shoulders in a way that made your stomach tilt.

Then he undid his watch with practiced fingers, slipping the leather strap open before placing it gently on your counter, far from the puddles.Quiet. Like he had done this a thousand times. Like fixing your mess was just the next item on his list. The silver caught the light, but your eyes didn’t linger there long. They trailed upward. To his arms.

The moment he reached for the knot of his tie, you forgot how to breathe properly. He reached up, his fingers working the knot loose with one practiced twist, tugging the fabric from his collar slowly. His throat flexed as he did, and you felt something shift in your stomach. The black silk slipped from his collar like a sigh, and your eyes followed it. His sleeves rolled up.

That’s when the stuck breath made a movement. Stuttered in your throat.

Ink emerged from beneath the fabric-those familiar lines, curves, the dark threads of his tattoos curling up his forearms like they had grown there, like they belonged. They caught the light and your memory all at once. Your mouth went a little dry.

His voice low, almost careless, as he crouched beside the sink. “Where’s the valve?”

You blinked. “Um. Under—under the cabinet.”

The same hands that had once made a mess of you in entirely different ways, in stolen moments, now curled around a rusty wrench.

"You need to do nothing." He gave you a brief look over his shoulder. “I’ve got it.” I've got you.

You stared. Blankly. Still half-dripping, still overwhelmed. "Do you… actually know how to fix that?”

A small, sardonic huff left him, like he found your surprise kind of insulting. He looked at the wrench—smaller than his palm, honestly—and turned it in his hand before answering.

“One of our safehouses in Daegu had pipes older than me,” he said, voice low, casual. “No plumber, no hot water. I figured it out. Got pretty good at it too. Don’t act so surprised.”

"I'm not. I know you've been good with your hands." You're not being cheeky when you say this, and are definitely not filing away the movement of his hand as he runs a practiced palm along the copper pipe.

Jungkook glanced up then. His eyes looking at you again—his gaze heavier this time, traveling down your soaked sleeves to the water-darkened hem of your shirt that clinged stubbornly to the side of you, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You sound like you’re remembering something, angel."

You turned quickly, heat crawling up your neck, your voice tumbling out too fast. “I’ll go change.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you. Low, deep, satisfied. Your silhouette vanishing behind a bedroom door with the softest click. He didn’t realize he was still listening for your footsteps until the silence settled in, heavy and warm and whole.

It was the first time in a long while that he’d been in your home like this. Not standing stiffly by the entryway waiting so he could steal you away.Not brushing fingertips against yours in a room half-full of people who didn’t know better. But here.

He let his eyes wander.

The place smelled like you. Something sweet, something quiet. A little bit like cinnamon and tea leaves and the faintest trace of your shampoo, clinging to the walls like memory.

His gaze drifted as he adjusted the position of the pipe, letting it drain into the bucket beneath. He didn’t rush. He didn’t want to. The metal pipe groaned as he tested the pressure, the familiar resistance grounding him. It was easy, this—manual labor. Straightforward. You tighten what’s loose. Replace what’s worn out. Drain what’s overflowing.

If only the rest of life were that obedient.

The photo frames caught his eye next.

They were perched on the shelf beside the kitchen door, slightly crooked from where you’d bumped them a hundred times, probably too tired to fix them. His knees ached slightly as he shifted for a better look.

The first was a wedding photo. Your wedding photo with his brother kissing your cheek. You were by his side, the most beautiful, your eyes squeezed shut, mid-laugh, a smear of cake icing on your chin.

Somehow, instead of jealousy, instead of resentment or guilt or the thousand other things he’d prepared himself to feel, what rose in him now was something fonder.

Before he could read more of the notes sticked to the fridge, you walked in, in softer clothes—an old cotton shirt that had seen too many laundry days and a pair of worn drawstring sweats that swallowed your ankles. Your hair was still damp at the ends from where the faucet had christened you earlier, but your skin was warm, your breath easier.

Your hands rubbed at your arms as if still chasing the chill away, but your eyes found him instantly. Crouched in front of the sink, sleeves rolled up, inked arms flexed in motion as he twisted the wrench one last time.

You watched the slow ripple of muscles beneath his skin, the way his jaw ticked in concentration, how his thumb brushed the valve like it mattered—like the faucet had personally wronged you and he was going to make it pay for its sins. There was something magnetic about the way he worked—focused, assured, steady like he belonged exactly here, doing exactly this.

“Is it… better?” you asked, voice soft, tentative, almost afraid to interrupt.

He didn’t turn, but you saw his shoulders relax at the sound of you. “Better than it was,” he murmured, tightening the last screw with a grunt. “Still leaking a little. I’m gonna seal the joint. Won’t be pretty, but it’ll hold.”

You nodded. And then you stepped forward without thinking.

“I can hold the light,” you offered. “Or the bucket?”

He blinked once. “You know I've got—”

Your shirt pooled at your wrists when you pushed up the sleeves. "I know."

He glanced up then, eyes catching on your legs first—his eyes always had a way of pausing before they moved—and then up to your face. A slow blink. A flicker of something unreadable behind his gaze. But it softened when you sank to your knees beside him, close enough for your thighs to brush.

He passed you the flashlight without a word, and you angled it as best you could while he unscrewed the makeshift clamp he’d used. Your shoulders brushed. His hand bumped your knee. You didn’t move.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his gaze shift again—upward, this time. Toward the shelf by the kitchen door.

He was looking at the oldest photo. The one most guests skimmed over. Minho in the middle with his mouth wide open in laughter, arms slung around Jungkook and her both, pulling them close like they were parts of himself. Jungkook’s hair had been longer then, messier.

That photo had never made sense to others. Why he was in it. Why the three of you looked so stitched together. But you’d always known. Jungkook had been there. Not just in the periphery of your memories, but rooted in them. Always just close enough to feel like something vital.

He turned his head then, catching your gaze, that made the tips of his ears turn pink and averted his eyes back to the situation in his hands so quick, you assumed it was to hide the color before it got any more prominent. You suppressed a giggle. Cute.

You looked back at the photo, softer now. “That was the summer he dared us to eat all the ice cream in one sitting.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched. “You threw up. On my shoes.”

You grinned, head tipping back just a little. “That does sound like me.”

“Got it,” he said suddenly, wrench twisting one final time, the valve clicking into place. The pipe stilled. No more dripping.

Relieved and stupidly proud, you said. "You actually did it."

“I said I would." He confirmed.

"Just had to find the right valve. It’s mostly just pressure build-up now.”

You didn’t really understand what that meant, but you nodded anyway, watching his hands as they moved, shoulders finally sagging with something like satisfaction as he leaned back against the cabinet door and sank onto the kitchen floor fully, legs stretching out across the wet tile without care. His hands—damp, calloused, smudged faintly with sealant—fell to his thighs, fingers flexing once, then going still.

He looked… tired. In that content, bone-deep sort of way that follows after fixing something with your own hands. There was a smear of dust on his cheek, his shirt clinging to his frame in places from residual dampness. But his jaw was loose now, his brow no longer furrowed, and the sharp concern in his eyes had faded into something tamer.

You watched him for a beat longer than necessary. "I could make you coffee." You offered, gently.

His head turned slowly to look at you, blinking like he hadn’t heard right. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, already rising to your feet and brushing off the knees of your pants. Pretending it's not a excuse to have him longer.

for a second, he just processed, like the idea hadn’t occurred to him. And then his lips curved into a lopsided smile. “Okay. Yeah, I’d like that.” Pretending he's agreeing not because that he'd get to stay around you more.

You moved through the space like you’d done a thousand times before—reaching for the coffee tin from the cabinet, setting the kettle to boil again (this time with crossed fingers), and pulling two mismatched mugs from the drying rack.

You poured the dark roast into one mug and the steeped chamomile into your own, then carried both back toward the floor where he still sat, one knee bent, arm slung casually over it, eyes trailing the edge of your bookshelf like he was trying to memorize every title. He looked so at home, it hurt a little.

You sank down beside him, passing him the coffee, fingers brushing, fleeting but lingering just long enough. He murmured a quiet "thanks, baby" and took a sip, eyes falling shut for half a second.

Your though dipped to his wrist.

The thread. Still there.Faded, frayed, stretched just a little thinner than it once was; all crooked knots and uneven loops, a charm shaped like a crooked star dangling lopsided from the string.That same dumb knot you tied when you were kids, tangled so tight neither of you could undo it without scissors.

Your nose scrunched. “It’s going to fall off if you keep pretending it’s not ugly.”

Jungkook glanced down like he didn’t even know it was there. Like it had become part of him. He flexed his wrist, the fabric barely clinging to the bend. Then he said, almost immediately. "It's not ugly."

You gave him a look. Is it?

Jungkook took a slow sip of his coffee. “A little angel once told me to never take it off.”

You rolled your eyes. “That angel was, like, ten.”

He leaned back against the cabinet again, looking at you sidelong. “She knew what she was talking about.”

You didn’t say anything to that. Just looked—really looked—and saw every year layered across his face. The boy, the teenager, the man. The moments between. And how maybe you weren’t so different from him.

His eyes slid toward you again, a subtle flick of attention like the tug of a thread. “What’re you drinking?” he asked, nose twitching, playful.

You blinked. “Hmm?”

He nodded at your mug, brows pinched slightly in thought. “That’s not coffee. I smelled it when you handed it over. Doesn't seem like mint, either."

You raised a brow. “What, are you some kind of tea sommelier now?”

"Just curious, angel. Smells like flowers."

You opened your mouth to respond. You really did. The words were halfway to your tongue—about how it was a new chamomile blend, how your mother sent it to you from some little organic store that also sold hand-knitted socks and lavender bath salts—but before you could speak, Jungkook leaned in.

And kissed you.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t even planned, you were sure. His hand didn’t even touch you. He didn’t brace your face or cradle your jaw like he had in other moments-those aching, desperate ones.

Your breath caught-stolen in the way it always had been with him. His mouth brushed yours-warm, careful, lips parted just enough. You didn’t move. Couldn’t. Your hand hovered somewhere between your mug and your lap, suspended like your pulse.

His mouth was doing all the grab and push.

He coaxed yours open, suckled at your bottom lip like he was trying to draw the flavor from it. Tenderly sucking at your bottom lip before he bit it, just barely, like he couldn’t help himself.

A sound escaped you, half-breath, half-surprise.

He pulled back just a fraction. And when your eyes fluttered open, he was already looking at you with that maddening calmness of his, like he hadn’t just unmade you with his mouth.

“Chamomile,” he said, deadpan.

"W-What?"

He didn’t look even the slightest bit ashamed while licking the taste from his lips. "With a little honey. Suits you."

You scramed for coherence. “You're ridiculous.”

“And you’re flushed.” He smiled into his mug. "So pretty when you're flushed, angel."

You scoffed into your own mug, taking a long sip of tea you no longer needed to explain.

Fridays are forever changed. Perhaps, they are now for quiet returns and falling over people who never stop feeling like home.

[bubbleggum444]

hiya I was wondering if you can do a jason todd x wife ex league of assassin reader.

Reader and Jason fight crime together.

Most of time the younger batfamily members like to crash at reader and Jason's apartment to relax after patrol or just for dinner. also reader helped raised and trained Damian during her time at the league.

sorry if this doesn't make sense.

— ❝HIS WIFE❞

𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 jason todd x female!reader, wife!reader au, angst comfort n fluff, 2k + wc

𝑠 𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 jason's wife taking care of his adoptive brother + jason being himself

𝑎/𝑛: this was requested as a story of how jason's wife and he fight crime...well...i turned into them comforting damian when he needed it. don't know how i missed the actual request. 🥲 will write the correct one later on.

Before Jason could even comprehend why his younger brother was at his doorstep at three in the morning—in the middle of a raging storm—his lovely wife pushed past him, taking the shivering boy into her arms.

She led Damian to the living room, settling him near the furnace, wrapping blanket after blanket around him, whispering soothing words, and motioning for her husband not to bombard the boy with questions.

Now, Jason had nothing against the little demon visiting. He'd always known—even in his early resurrection days—just how much Damian depended on his wife.

Besides being a complete menace with a rifle, having a nasty right hook, and killer karate skills, Jason’s wife was like a second mother to Damian. Even Talia had doted on her back when she was still in the League.

Damian had practically grown up as her shadow. If he loved his actual mother, then he absolutely adored his figurative one—Jason’s wife.

One thing to note: ___ was infertile. It had been a cruel blow to her self-esteem. She wanted kids. She wanted to be a mom.

No matter how many times she forced a smile and reassured Jason that it was okay, he could see through it. Each time she looked down at another negative test, he knew it wasn’t okay. It hurt her. And it hurt him too.

So when Jason had wished for a miracle—a little bundle of joy for them—he hadn’t expected it to come in the form of his little brother showing up for the nth time that week.

"Dami… What happened?" His wife’s soft voice pulled Jason from his thoughts. He glanced down at the younger hero.

"Just… my… Dad's been tough on me. I'm sorry for… being an inconvenience…"

Oh. That actually hurt. A lot.

Jason felt a sharp sting in his chest. He knew how tough Bruce could be—how tough he had been on him. Even if Bruce’s intentions were good, the effects often lasted longer in ways that weren’t always for the better.

His wife's eyes met his, silently pleading. Jason just nodded. That was all the permission she needed to scoop the eight-year-old into her arms and take him to the bathroom for a bath.

"So… Wayne’s been tough on you, Dami?" she asked gently as she washed his hair. He only nodded, his small hands gripping his knees, his tears held back but obvious.

"Did he yell?" she asked, carefully choosing her words.

Damian shook his head. No. She sighed in relief.

"You can sleep here, okay? And—and you can stay as long as you need until you feel ready to go back to your dad. That sound good, dear?"

Another nod.

After the bath and drying his hair, she tucked him into her and Jason’s bed. That earned her a disapproving glance from Jason, but she ignored it. It wasn’t like he was actually mad.

Jason sighed, climbing into bed. He barely had time to relax before he felt his little brother cling to him.

Damian was rarely vulnerable—especially with him.

So, even though Jason had planned for a peaceful night alone with his wife, he didn’t mind. Not this time. Because somehow, Damian being there felt like exactly what his wife needed to get through this hard time.

Whether Damian was helping them, or they were helping him, Jason didn’t know. But he was grateful for it.

___ turned off the lights and slid into bed, pulling the covers over them. And that was that. Damian, squished between them, seeking their warmth, and the two of them accepting it without hesitation.

Though… Jason figured he should get something off his chest too. Y’know, keep the sentiment going.

"I farted."

"GROSS—"

"JASON—"

➽──────────────❥

𝑏𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑔𝑢𝑚444©

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

[missedloveletter]

🖤•WIND BREAKER BOYS•🖤

Summary: after meeting you become friends....and they catch themselves falling for you.

Characters: Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, suo hayato

Warnings: little angst (lossly mentioned but fem pronounces used)

Might be long

suo hayato <3

You would become friends after you ran into him at the convenience store.The night he walked you home from your late snack run was when you exchanged numbers.He thought you were funny and would be good internment,so why not, and if you ever found yourself alone at night you could just call.He thought it would be just a new spectacle ( in the most respectful way lol)and helping out a towns girl like he was supposed to....

He was wrong....dead wrong.....(Which he rarely is)

You actually call him to hang out and check in on him ,which he didn't expect ,but you were peculiar much like his other friends so you fit in nicely.

His fondness for you kinda snuck up on him.You call him and see if he's ok, asked what he's up to and he secretly craved the attention.

"heyyy Suo I'm sorry I'm calling so late just wanted to see how you're doing.......and maybe see if you want to get the new ice cream flavor at the convenience store?"

He Laughs a sweet real laugh.your late convenience store runs because a rural with your new escort.

"yeah...why not"

On these runs he didn't get anything for him self.

This was all just to be with you.He was a man that was very intoned with his and others emotions,but he was blind to his own love for you, always saying it was "because you're a close friend"....but really it was because he wasn't ready to feel so much for one person.

He is a tease and teasing was more flirty with you sweeter.

With time you meet his other closes friends and of course you hit it off, getting there numbers and hanging out all together.

The true moment he realized how much his love for you grew and all at one was when you were hanging out with the boys.You were getting really close to Sakura and nirei.You wanted to hang out with the boys and hit a place to hang out like the movies.Sou was really busy with extra training saying he'll buy you all the candy you want next time as apology. and nirei was busy doing school work so it was just you and Sakura....poor guy.even if you guys went as just friend he was a blushing mess because friends or not you where girl. You had so much fun with Sakura even with him being all flustered.

"I had Soo much fun. The movie was sooo good especially when superhero crashed through the wall and saved the cute granny"

"Yeah it was so great" says Sakura as you guys walk out of the theater.but as you walk out you see Suo he seemed tense as you walked over to him.

"heyyy Suo how was training"? You smiled greedjng him.

Suo smiled but not how he usually did...at least not with you.

it was his masked one.

"...Suo?"

He catches himself, soon softening his eyes ..."Hi...I came to take you home,I didn't know you came with Sakura."

.

.

.

Sakura said his goodbyes knowing you're safe with suo.

so here you are walking in a tension you never had with suo as you walk home.You start to pick at your nails and you wanted to say something but any words that bubbles up popped.You look at his side profile then back to the sidewalk.

"did.....did I do something?....I'm sorry if I did."

Your shushed words brought him back from his thoughts.The way you said it with quiet hurt (at you supposedly wrong doing to him)stabbed him right in the chest.He stoped in the middle of the side walk turning to you as you soon do the same.

"You did nothing wrong...I just...why did you go to the movies with Sakura?"

You looked at him kinda puzzled...."well....I invited you and nirei along with Sakura and it just turned out he was the only one free".

Suo stoped for a second...."so you didn't pick him over me"?....what,why did he say that.... was he jealous....so you weren't on a date....well I guess if Sakura went on a date he probably wouldn't be able even make it into the theater with how flustered he gets. Suo was jealous....and he couldn't hide it from himself any more.

He just smiled at you in your confusion.his real one just for you.

"I'll tell you when the time is right ok?"

Hajime Umemiya <3

After meeting at the farmers market you decided to keep in touch.Why not be connected to other plant lovers,great for trade and doing deals.first that was your relationship.Well that's what you thought it was anyway just trading your plants/ other goods and giving each other gardening tips....but Ume will be Ume and the moment you accidentally ran into him and spent the day shopping together you where family.Another soul carved into is heart that had its own place even if it was as the market girl for now.

You guys would grow closer with trading and giving advice with your plants babies and within a month or two you guys began to call and even make time to hang ,usually with gardening or other plants involvement like helping at each other garden, going plant or seed shopping together, and after you fun he'd walk you home.Ume thought you were sweet and a fun friend and one of the few people that shared his hobbie.But soon he'd fall for you...hard....

Like face first into the concrete hard.He knew he cared for you.That you were a dear friend that had a place in his large town family but Love really was a brutal hit for him and it came at the most domestic of times for the two of you.

You were in the green house section of the grocery store.It had a comforting warmth to the space as you were surrounded by various plants at their bloomed flowers.

You held the base of a flower right under the petals gently bringing the flower gently to your nose.The large pink flower nearly the size of your palm smelled sweet.You turned slightly to Ume seeing that he was watching you.

You turn fully meeting Ume's and smiled warmly at him,"You need to smell this Ume....it's really lovely promise".

you looked angelic and sweet, the light hitting your feather just right through the glass letting in the Sun's rays.It felt like he was seeing you for the first time.for what you truly meant to him and it hit him square in the face.

"yeah....",He slid in beside you and gently tilted the flower towards him,resting his hand right atop of yours."It is sweet".

He turns to you with his bright sunny smile,"You want to get lunch after this together....I'll treat you".

You smile..."how can I say no to you Ume".

( he knows what he wants AND HE GETS ITTTT)

Haruka Sakura <3

Sakura helped you out of a sticky situation with some jerk losers. He is really kind even if he was Tsunade about it.As a thank you you took him out to food and that is how your relationship started.

After eating you gave him your number and walked out.Poor think what red and blushing the whole time and you giving your number kinda ...made him pop.

Sakura.exe out of commission.

Suo and nirei had to encourage him to use you number as you giving it to him was an invite so it was ok.he wanted to he really did.he was just so nervous having your number.It felt nice.His friendship were growing and his contacts were proving it.

He will never admit it but when he was with you he felt warm(and it wasn't because of his intense blush).So with the help of Suo and nirei you were added to his contacts and without warning you found a place in his heart.

You would start to hang out with suo, nirei and Sakura.Yuu became close friends and usually walked the town.It was mostly you bragging them along for shopping trips and Sakura in particular blushingly complained.

He would push down his feelings for you.....mostly because he didn't know what it was and what it meant.it scared him. These intense feelings that made him want you....want you near....want you to want him....IT WAS TERRIBLE. lol

He was always a burning mess with you and him being a mess made him more embarrassed making it worse.It was a cycle....a cruel one.

You were out with Sakura......just Sakura today which was rare and was totally sent up by Suo , nirei and all the other boys heard of the lack of game this man has.

You were out clothes shopping for an event you had and the boys told you to hang out with Sakura and make some fun out of it. So here you are going in and out of the dressing room putting on various outfits .Sakura sits outside the door giving you his (studerd blushing) opinions. He really loved seeing you like this ....trying in cute outfits and asking his thoughts.....HIS THOUGHTS....

He popped.....exploded at the outfit you just came out in..

It was breath taking on you....

"how do I look.......You like this one because I sure do".

With a red face and a rapid heart..."gGREAT FAVORITE ONE".

All you could do was laugh and he understood what this feeling finally was...

Yayayayyayayayay.....thanks so much for reading and more to come(especially if there are showing of interest like liking and I'm open to requests for more Ideas and knowing what you guys wanttttt)

Love letter out😜