#and then is like well that worked out better so no one else can hear me be wrong even though i still think im right

[luveline]

hey babe can I request Hotch with a reader girlfriend who’s desperately shy? early seasons hotch please when he’s still smiley (maybe still has Jack tho), i would love to see how he treats a long term girlfriend in your eyes one who he’s just completely gone for 

fem, 0.9k

You should know better than to come to work without venturing up to Aaron’s private office, but you’re late coming in and there’s a ton of stuff to do and he’s supposed to pretend that he cares when you turn in your work late. You log in and start going through things slowly. There are a few emails to respond to, some queries, a consult request Aaron himself has forwarded with a note —your expertise is required. 

You wiggle your mouse to wake the screen. You hadn’t realised you’d gotten stuck until it was dark. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” someone murmurs, tipping your head back to kiss your cheek, “where have you been?” 

He speaks quietly, no one else can hear him, but he enthuses his tone with so much love that you can’t decide between laughter or tears. You turn breathless instead, a thumb against your throat as Aaron’s loving questioning continues, “I thought we talked about this, hmm? You coming up to see me? How else am I supposed to know that you’re here?” 

There’s no Emily sitting at the desk opposite yours. No Spencer adjacent, no Derek to the right. It explains why he’s butter soft, but not his worry. 

“I was nearly late. I’m sorry.” 

He starts to kiss you gently, quietly, his lips tracking over the side of your cheek and pressing in as he goes until his nose is against your temple. “Don’t be sorry, I just wanted to see you.” He holds you to him. “I missed you.”

“Are you okay?” you ask, wishing you were brave enough to tack handsome, or love on the end. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I thought maybe you were still stressed about Emily.” 

Aaron pulls away, giving you your first proper look at him that morning. He’s as handsome as ever. It makes your chest spike with anxiety. You worry all the time that you’ll lose him; the thought that he might realise all the things you’re missing and break things off is a constant at the back of your mind. It only ever goes quiet when he’s kissing you. “Prentiss has done well so far,” he says. “I’m not happy to have things rearranged above my head, but I have no problem with Emily. Now, how was your morning?” 

“It was fine.” 

“I want to know. Breakfast?” 

“Yeah, oatmeal.” 

He grins. “Me too.” 

Nobody would ever believe that this is your boyfriend when he’s commanding a room during a profile, or apprehending an UnSub with his impassive, furrowed brow. You assumed it was the honeymoon phase at first. It’s not like his affection makes much sense, but if he’s not stressed, it just means he loves you, which is nice. You hold the back of your hand to his cheek, laughing in a shock when he turns his face and traps it between his cheek and his shoulder. 

“No more late mornings,” he says decisively. 

“I wasn’t technically late. I wasn’t early enough to come up to see you, is all. Are you upset I didn’t bring you your coffee?” 

“Is that what you think?” he asks, smiling as he kisses your wrist, before straightening. You let your hand fall and he catches it on the way down. 

“I don’t know. You’re much too touchy. I’m trying to deduce why, but…” 

“Profile me,” Aaron says. He gives your hand a squeeze. “You know how to do it, honey. Figure out my motive from my past behaviours.” 

Aaron’s only ever this sweet on you when you’re in his bed. Well, ‘only ever’ is harsh, but he’s never not sweet on you in the afterglow. And that’s because intimacy is a constant reminder of how close you really are to one another, why he loves you, and why you love him. So perhaps he’s being sweet on you because you’ve reminded him how loved he is? But it doesn’t make much sense. You forgot his coffee.

Your stomach goes warm. “Oh. Oh,” you say, “I called you last night.” 

“You did.” 

“I was tired.” 

“But you were beautiful,” he says, and what does that mean? It’s not as though he could see your face. “I can’t remember the last time you were like that. Not since we were in Helena.”

You can’t remember it clearly. Threads of what you’d said come back to you slowly. Love you, my sweetheart, my Aaron. Can you come over? I know it’s late, I need to see you. You were too tired to function, let alone call someone, and yet. 

Your face is on fire. 

“Sorry I couldn’t come over, honey,” he says, chucking you under the chin with a curled finger. “I would’ve, I promise, but I had Jack until we swapped this morning.”

You go hot all over. “No, I know. It’s fine, I shouldn’t have called you–”

“Who says you can’t call me?” 

“Nobody, but I shouldn’t have.”

“You can call me anytime you want.” He tips your chin up. “Quick, Spencer’ll have finished what I asked him to do soon. Can I kiss you?” 

“I forgot it was your day for Jack–”

He takes your face into his hand. “Doesn’t matter, honey. Kiss?” 

You close your eyes and lift your chin. Ever your prince, Aaron squeezes your cheek gently and leans in to kiss you, far warmer than you’re expecting, his thumb rubbing over your cheek with a reverence he couldn't fake if he wanted to. 

[ceesimz]

roses

you want to make your first sant jordi together perfect for her.

“Ale?” You called out, hearing a hum from the vague direction of the lounge. 

You'd just arrived at her place, reluctantly waking up in separate apartments on a free Sunday in early April since Alexia had a family thing the night before, and you spent the evening at Ingrid’s with a few friends. Individually, both of you had a good time, but it wasn’t without a grumble from you at having to walk up alone. You slept better with Alexia beside you, somehow she helped with your sleeping problems better than anything else you had tried. Whether that be because she’s a naturally calm person and that seeps into you, putting you at ease, or having her there worked as a distraction since you always fall asleep drowning in each other’s arms or with her fingertips running up and down your back soothingly.

The night before, however, you didn’t sleep too well. Your mind wouldn’t shut off at all. But, it allowed you to do some thinking. And the next morning, you walked into her apartment with a plan of action.

She was, what would seem uncharacteristic to others but not to you at all, sprawled out on her sofa, all long limbs in an oversized navy Nike tracksuit. The girl was like a sloth sometimes, a description of her she didn’t appreciate, yet one you loved to tease her with. As you rounded the corner from the hallway, she dropped her phone against her chest and glanced up at you with a warm smile. The sight of her so happy to see you never got old.

“Bon dia.” She uttered with a content sigh, moving an arm behind her head as she watched you take off your jacket and slide your shoes off. Then, you headed over to her, and her smile got wider as she braced herself for you to lay on top of her. You didn’t, to her disappointment. You sat by her feet, a determined look on her face. “What’s up with you?”

“I need you to tell me everything I need to know about Sant Jordi.”

Well, that, the brunette wasn’t expecting.

“Why?” She asked curiously, sitting up a little to lean back on her hands, her eyebrows pressed down into a confused scowl. All she wanted was a hug, but here she was having to give a history lesson.

“Because you said it’s your favourite holiday. So I need you to tell me all about it, so that I can make plans for us.”

Your words offered her a hug instead; her heart fluttered in her chest at the demand from you. It was incredibly sentimental to her, so much so she felt her cheeks heat up the tiniest bit.

“You want to make plans for it?” Alexia wondered, eyebrows now raised with a hopeful smile on her face that she tried to disguise.

“Of course I do. It’s your favourite.” You repeated, replying to her question like the answer was obvious. Because of course you wanted to make her favourite day of the year live up to her standards, and more.

“Okay.” Alexia blinked as she looked at the seriousness on your face, trying to process what was happening. There were butterflies in her stomach, like she was a teenager after their first kiss. But no, it was just you, and your limitless thoughtfulness and compassion. It only made her love you more, made her more excited for the holiday to come, because it was her first with you and that was good enough for her without all the added extras you seemed set on adding. “Well, what do you want to know?” 

You pulled your phone out, opened up your notes, pressing on the already half-written page from your impromptu research the night before, and looked back up at her.

“Everything, Alexia.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at your response. Not at your dedication, because she found that outrageously endearing, but at how deadset on this you were. How deadset you were on making her feel loved, and that was something she treasured more than you could ever know.

“Only if you actually give me a hug first. Maybe a kiss too for extra motivation if I have to tell you everything.”

You rolled your eyes at her, though fell for it regardless. You dropped your phone and watched as she shuffled closer, visible excitement on her face as if she hadn’t kissed you a hundred times before. She sat up properly and held your face with her hands on the side of your head, leaning in so fast you almost clashed heads, but that was the last thing on your mind the moment her lips landed on yours. They were soft, like always, soft and familiar, and the way they moved against yours had you wondering why on earth you’d delayed the moment when you arrived. 

Until your thoughts trailed off from her and back to the task at hand.

“So,” You started as you pulled away from her mouth with a wet smack. Your phone was back in your hand and you were straight back to business before she’d even registered that you had broken it off. “Tell me about it.”

Her hands were still cradling your face, eyes on yours as she caught her breath back. You looked down at her, eyebrow raised as you waited for her to compose herself again. After she inhaled another deep breath, she searched your eyes to check for any ounce of doubt or sarcasm as she took a moment to realise… just how much it meant to her that you were offering this.

“You’re really serious about this?” She murmured a moment later, a sheepish expression on her face. 

“Yes. I am. It’s our first together, I want to get it right.” You admitted quietly, a slightly embarrassed red tinge to your cheeks as she beamed at you, her thumbs stroking over your cheekbones. She leaned in again, a gentler kiss this time, one that conveyed her adoration rather than any other meaning.

“That means so much to me.” She whispered against your lips when she pulled away. A soft smile formed on your face at her words, because they alone were worth it and you hadn’t even done anything yet. That was exactly why you were doing it.

“Can only do it if you tell me.” You teased, turning your head to kiss her palm.

Alexia chuckled gently, shifting to sit back against the sofa and wrapping an arm around your shoulders to pull you into her a little. You turned slightly so that your back was to her shoulder and her hand slipped down to your chest, your own reaching up to link with hers and resting there. With a warmth in her chest, finally having you where she wanted you and a topic at hand where its future with you both excited her immeasurably, she was wholly content.

“I don’t even know where to start with it.” 

How could she explain it to you? The day spoke for itself. She hadn’t ever explained it to anyone before because it’d always just been there in her life, woven into April and she’d never known anything different. Now though, she had you, who hadn’t even heard of it until one movie night early on in your friendship where she rambled about it for twenty minutes straight when you asked if she liked Valentine’s Day. She had scoffed, to your confusion, before giving a hundred-and-one reasons why Sant Jordi was far superior due to the deep-rooted culture and everything else about it that fascinated her still, even after thirty years of it. Maybe you would have better knowledge of it, had you actually paid attention to what she was saying rather than how she looked. 

It wasn’t a holiday, exactly, more like the heartbeat of her city. A day where love drifted in the wind, swirling in the air, like oxygen, which it almost was. Nobody could survive without love and that’s what the day was about, always had been, since that time with the dragon and the rose that sprouted after. Since then, no matter what a person was going through, a simple rose was enough to put a smile on anyone’s face. Because a Sant Jordi rose wasn’t simple, it was more than just a tradition. It was love with roots, dating back centuries and sure to last for yet more to come. Giving a rose to you and receiving one from you on this day, to Alexia, meant that you had both chosen to love each other and wanted to tell so in the language of the place that meant everything to her. As she was explaining, she felt herself become giddy with excitement. It was hard to put it into words when all that was on her mind was you and roses and books and dragons and-

“You’re trailing off, Ale. Stay on topic.”

Right.

The brunette wholeheartedly believed there was never a more beautiful day in Barcelona than on Sant Jordi. There was a particular way the city softened then. Streets transformed from fast-moving busyness to slow streams of people stopping in their step, not out of obligation but from wonder. From actually pausing their life, taking a breath, and appreciating things they missed in daily life. Love, community, humanity. Something shifted in everybody during the holiday. Strangers smiled easily, weightless from their usual burdens, desperate to share the serenity they felt with others. Vendors with hundreds of the most gorgeous roses you could find handed them out willingly to everyone with the same care reserved for their loved ones, because that’s just what the day made you do. It was good, whilst also unfairly rare to have a reason to give beauty just for the sake of it. 

Deep down, maybe that’s why most people loved it. It was an excuse to share the pure sides of humankind in a world that lacked it so much.

And the way people showed these things was with the roses, yes, but books too. Alexia recalled her mother saying something to her when she was younger, where she had asked why it was books and roses, and her answer was ‘one for the mind, one for the heart.’ That memory came racing back to her, bringing a reminiscing smile to her face, before echoing it to you too. There was the legend of the knight and the dragon, of blood turned into rose, of course, but there was the celebration of two authors too, Cervantes and Shakespeare. So while the rose speaks of love, the book speaks of connection. To give one is just as precious as receiving one. It’s a gift of thought and attention, where someone has listened to another and decided on something that will resonate with them, whether it’s a topic about what they long for, what they fear, what they want to learn, or what they treasure. It’s sacred, in a way that’s different to the rose, but just as meaningful. 

The day was solely dedicated to care, to language, culture, and love. All the things that were most important to Alexia. She thought about it often in the weeks leading up to it, and apparently so did you. That gave her even more reasons, added to the already infinite list, of why you were her person.

“Wow.” You breathed out in awe when she finished, thumbs paused over your phone screen because you hadn’t quite expected her to go so in depth. She opened up to you about it, completely and honestly. You might be the worst person ever if you didn’t make it the best day of her life. 

“Yeah.” Alexia hummed, her ramble having caught herself off guard. But, sharing her adoration for the day with someone new, where she had to explain all the reasons she enjoyed it which she hadn’t really done out-loud before, simply reignited her love for it and made it stronger. “Was that… too much at once?”

You put your phone down, it being the last thing on your mind then, then turned around to face her. The midfielder seemed a bit shy, embarrassed even, and you had to change that.

“No. Never too much. You explained it a million times better than I thought you would. Thank you for sharing all that with me.” You told her, eyes wide and sincere as she met your gaze. She let out a small relieved sigh, before her lips widened into an admiring smile. 

“I can’t wait to spend it with you.” You gave a cheesy grin at her adorable comment, then got straight down to business.

“Who do you want to spend the day with?” You questioned, waiting for her answer expectantly as she frowned at you.

“You, obviously.” The midfielder answered.

“Okay, but I mean, don’t you want to see your family too? Some friends maybe? You don’t want to have lunch with Alba and your mother, dinner with your close friends, that kind of thing?” 

“No. Just you.” 

Oh. That took you by surprise a bit. You were flattered by her, and you couldn’t exactly hide it either with the way you blushed a moment or two after she spoke. She noticed and smirked at you, proud of her charm.

“Well, I still think we should visit Alba and Eli anyway, give them some roses.” You compromised, feeling a tad guilty for snatching your girlfriend away from her family.

“Sure.” Alexia shrugged. “As long as I get the whole day with you.”

“You will.” You mumbled under her piercing attention, her eyes unmoving from your face. “And where do you want to go together? What would you like us to do?”

It was then that she looked away. How could she say what she wanted to say without extinguishing your excitement?

“Let me take the lead on that. I know you want to surprise me, and you still can, but I want to show you to some of my favourite places, okay? I know all the good spots and I want to show you why I love them. I'd really like to share them with you.” You seemed to deflate at that, her wishes going against the rough plan you had for how this conversation would go, as well as Sant Jordi itself.

“But I want to surprise you, Ale.” You said dejectedly, which only made her smile. She leaned forward and kissed your cheek, hoping to cheer you up back into your good mood.

“I know, and I’ll let you. But I want to give you a good day too. Let me organise where we go, what we see, and you can do anything else you would like. Fifty-fifty.” She suggested, watching your reaction as you took a minute to think. After a moment or two, your eyes narrowed skeptically at her.

“Sixty-forty.” You bartered, which she laughed at. Nevertheless, she agreed.

“Fine.” 

Once that had been decided, she wrapped her arms back around you and pulled you into her. She nestled her head into your neck and dotted kisses up and down it, before settling comfortably on the couch with you in her hold as she smiled into your skin, with daydreams of the two of you on Sant Jordi clouding her mind.

—

Then the day arrived, finally. It felt like you’d waited an age for it. 

You were up as the sun rose, Alexia still away with the fairies in bed, and moving around the apartment as you checked your preparations for the millionth time. There was email after email on your phone, confirming your various orders of roses and their deliveries. Yellow ones for Ingrid, since she was your best friend and it felt wrong not to acknowledge how much you loved her on a day like today. Then some more for Jana and Aitana, who had helped you in planning and with where to get the best roses one could find in Barcelona, as well as their meaning. You felt endlessly grateful for everyone in your life, you’d give roses to them all if you could. 

However, your main focus was the sleeping form in your bedroom, whom you were about to make breakfast in bed for. On the menu for her, a smoked salmon omlette with traditional Catalan toasted bread, and a coffee. Simple, but her favourite for a day-off. Except it was her favourite when… she made it. It wasn’t exactly your specialty, but you were going to give it a try, considering you wanted to surprise her. 

And it worked, it didn’t come out half bad, and just as you’d served it up onto a breakfast tray for her with a coffee from the ridiculously fancy espresso machine she didn’t need (and took you months to learn just how to turn it on), the door rang with the most important delivery for the day. Her roses. Perfect timing for you to pick one out, wrap a Senyera ribbon around it, and put it on the tray with her breakfast. 

She was still out for the count when you walked back in, on her side with an arm outstretched where you would lay, something that brought a smile to your face as you put the tray on her bedside table. You sat on the edge of the bed and gently nudged her shoulder, causing her to stir.

“Bon dia, Ale.” You whispered, hearing her usual grumble at being woken up before she naturally woke up. “Wake up, you’ve slept long enough.”

“Wow.” She huffed groggily, rolling onto her back and rubbing her face tiredly. As she did so, you leaned over and grabbed the rose, presenting it to her as she opened her eyes. Her grumpy expression faded instantly, replaced by one of shy gratitude as she reached out to take it. “Thank you, amor.” 

“Feliç Sant Jordi.” 

Sitting up properly, Alexia met you halfway as you leaned in with a hand on her thigh to steady yourself. A kiss full of tenderness, brimming excitement for the day ahead, was the best way to start her day. Even better? It was followed by breakfast cooked with care and a coffee brewed to perfection (you couldn’t take credit for that, it was the machine) that hit the spot for her. It was only early morning, and it was already her favourite one she’d celebrated so far.

“Happy first Sant Jordi.” Alexia grinned sleepily, gazing at you with an admiration like it was your first day on earth. “You did a good job with the rose, it’s beautiful.”

“I had some help.” You admitted sheepishly, to which she shrugged it off. 

“Don’t care. Still your brain behind it.” She murmured, leaning back in again to steal another kiss from you. “I love you. Love everything about you. Happier than ever with you.”

“Shut up, eat your food.” You blushed, cheeks burning as she smirked at you before reaching for her coffee. “I love you too.”

“I can’t wait for you to see the city later.” Her eyes had a look of childlike wonder in them as she thought of what waited for you both outside the walls of your apartment. Before that, she had some bigger priorities she needed to deal with. She swallowed her mouthful of coffee before addressing you with a desperate question. “Did you leave time fo-”

“Yes, I left time for us to spend in bed after breakfast. Hurry up and eat, then we’ll have longer.” 

The girl was nothing without lazy mornings in bed, wrapped up in each other. Neither were you.

—

A couple hours later, after time together in the peace of the bedroom and a quick trip to her mother’s, the pair of you were wandering the streets, hand in hand and taking in the relaxed nature of everyone that you passed. There was this mutual contentment which possessed each person that celebrated the holiday, something that you loved being around. You hadn’t even made it to the main parts Alexia wanted to take you to.

She looked different. More relaxed than you’d seen her. She was calm, fully in the moment, everything loud in her life far away from her mind. Not a second went by without a smile on her face, whether it be one that stretched across her cheeks or one that was simply an upwards quirk of her lip. You adored seeing her so happy, seeing how much she loved the day.

At first, the city didn’t seem too different. There were red petals scattered every few steps on the tiled ground, some fresh and some bruised, and there was something poetic about that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The sun had decided to come out too, only adding to the atmosphere around. But apart from that, everything seemed normal. Just the early stirrings of Barna waking up.

Until you got closer and closer to the very heart of the city, where you turned one corner, and the streets became something else entirely. It was a slow unravelling of everything the day embodied; each person had a rose and a wheat sprig with an unbridled smile on their face, there was stall after stall as you stepped foot onto Passeig de Gràcia, tin buckets filled with bouquet after bouquet of flowers, wooden tables creaking under the weight of the countless books stacked on them. It was unlike anything you had ever seen.

Barcelona truly did look like something out of a fairytale, just like your girlfriend had rambled about.

“This is the best place to be.” Alexia murmured into your ear as you paused to take in everything that was happening ahead of you.

And like every time she’d declared something before, she really wasn’t wrong.

Despite the crowds, you didn’t feel overwhelmed, because every single individual was sharing the same passion, celebrating the same traditions, holding their love to a higher importance. It was addictive, you wished everyday was like it. You would be more than happy, consider yourself lucky even, to live in this city for the rest of your life.

You moved slowly through the street, another ripple in the current of people fascinated like you were. The scent of roses was strong, how could it not be with how many hundreds there were in every square meter, with the metallic echo of scissors cutting stems each time a fresh flower was bought for someone that was treasured by their company. Honestly, that might have been your favourite thing about it, like Alexia had said; the love was so easily shared, each person so deeply valued, it didn’t matter that you were all strangers because it didn’t feel like it there. With the contagion of love in the area, you felt bonded to everyone that passed by you. It was a weird phenomenon to feel such a way, but you didn’t question it. No one questioned it. That’s just what Sant Jordi was, that was its pride.

Alexia had given you a rose after breakfast, having hid a bouquet for you out on her balcony. Even if you had expected it, it still did something to your heart as she handed it over to you. However, neither of you had exchanged books yet. You had a plan you kept to yourself, and so did Alexia. Yours was the first that came to fruition. 

One of her favourite authors had a stall that day where they were selling a new book Alexia had spoken about a number of times in the last few weeks. You had to, shamelessly, stalk her Amazon account to make sure she hadn’t pre-ordered it for herself. Fortunately, she didn’t, and the days since it was released ticked by without it suddenly making an appearance in her travel bag or on her coffee table. So when you saw the stall in question, the book standing out to you instantly on the table, you stopped the pair of you in place and turned to her with a beaming grin.

“Stay here.” You told her randomly, before rounding the corner and disappearing from her view. 

She frowned, a little suspicious, but did as you said regardless. As she waited, she saw a stall for fresh churros with chocolate off in the distance, mouth already watering as she thought of them. Anyway, just as you’d demanded, she stayed where she was until you came back, twiddling with the rose she’d tucked into the pocket of her jacket over her chest whilst she took in the surroundings. All that crossed her mind was that this truly felt like home. It grounded her, a reminder of where she came from and what she was representing on the global stage that football was. And she was proud to do that, indescribably so.

“Close your eyes, hold your hands out.” You appeared in front of her again, hands behind your back as you waited for her to follow through on your instructions. Once she had done as you said, you placed the book into her hands, the seller having even gone one step further and tying a red ribbon around the item too. “Open.”

The brunette looked down at the gift and let out a tiny gasp, glancing back up at you in slight disbelief. There was something about not only being heard and seen by people in her life, but having someone actually do something with all they learnt that landed inside her with a quiet kind of significance. 

“Mi amor.” She exhaled a shaky breath, a downturned smile on her face at the surprise. “Thank you. This is… thank you. You’re amazing.”

She drew you in for a tight embrace, there, in the middle of the avenue, where you couldn’t fend off the pleased grin that grew as a result of her reaction. Maybe she had wanted to buy it for herself which, to some, might have made it less of a surprise, but not to her. Things like this struck a chord within her, triggered that sentimental part of her that couldn’t ever really get over the fact people adore her so much they’d do something this thoughtful. 

“I had to muddle through the limited Catalan I know to get it but… luckily I know how to say that I need a gift for my hot g-” 

“Alright, you ruined it.” Alexia tutted, cutting you off with her words and a kiss that silenced your teasing pretty quickly. “You keep beating me to things, I need to step up my game.”

“God, you really have to turn everything into a competition.” You scoffed, to which she grinned and took hold of your hand again to start leading you both down the avenue.

“Of course. And I’m going to win myself back a goal by buying you the best churros you can find, right now.” 

Suddenly, the most sickeningly sweet scent you’d ever experienced invaded your senses and you had to hold in a groan at the deliciousness of it as she slotted you both into the queue. Churros had fastly become one of your favourite treats, but not something you indulged in often since, obviously, you were a footballer and they weren’t exactly the most nutritious things in the world. When else was a better time to share some with your girlfriend than on Sant Jordi? 

“You’re saying churros are better than your book?” You feigned a dejected expression and tone, feeling a tiny bit guilty at the panic on her face, but not when she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and grazed her lips against your temple.

“Never.” She reassured you, rolling her eyes when she heard you giggle. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Very lucky, it turned out, because she wasn’t lying when she said they were the best churros. For a little while longer, you walked along the avenue, your hand on her upper arm which held the cardboard tray, each of you picking from it every so often and laughing when some of the chocolate dripped down Alexia’s chin. You swiped it away with your thumb before letting her lick it off, not even ashamed about being that couple in public. You were in your own bubble, basking in the company and the devotion that thrived between you. It was quickly turning out to be one of your favourite days with her, maybe even ever in your life.

Shortly before you left Passeig de Gràcia, Alexia brought you to the place everybody wanted to see on Sant Jordi – Casa Batlló. It was front and center of the holiday, the photo that marked every headline in the news, and rightly so. Beautiful didn’t begin to cover it. 

“Worth letting me plan the day, no?” Alexia joked quietly, standing behind you as you gazed up at the building. Her hands were low on your waist, thumbs stroking up and down. As the day ticked by, it got seemingly harder and harder for her to control her devotion, it was just overflowing from her.

“This place is amazing.” You stated in awe; the longer you looked at it, the more details you spotted. From that building alone, with so much history embedded into its architecture, was enough reason to love Sant Jordi. “I never knew all this about Barcelona and Catalunya when I joined.”

“Now you have me to show you. Every year, for the rest of our lives.” She spoke soothingly, the words meant for you and you only. This woman.

“Somebody is really in their feels today, huh.” 

You were joking about it, but the whole day it’d set you alight. Never had being in a relationship felt so right to you. You were certain that you hadn’t known love before her, and she was really taking advantage of the holiday to show exactly how she felt towards you. God only knows you were feeling the same about her.

“What better day to do it? I love you. Let me love on you.” She replied, raw, vulnerable, honest. Her openness was one of the things you adored most about her, she never shied away from saying exactly what was on her mind. 

“Never said you couldn’t.” 

With her hands that sat on your hips, she span you around to face her, drawing you in closer just a bit. Her gaze was intense, communicating things that you didn’t want to share with anyone else, wanting to keep it between the two of you. 

“Your book.” She said out of nowhere, dragging you out of your thoughts and back to the present. One hand slipped away, reaching behind her back and presenting a small book, small enough to fit in her jeans pocket. You scanned over it, not quite sure what it was. “It’s a poetry book in Catalan. A lot of my favourites, some that are really important to me. Some that I’ve shared with you before and some that I haven’t yet because they feel too special to speak aloud, too sacred to translate. I wanted you to read it because it’s everything I’ve never said. But it’s always been for you, about you. And, I don’t know, maybe you’ll read the things in there and… think of me.” 

You didn’t answer, not right away. You stared at her, then the book, and back to her. The object turned from something light, like a feather in your hands, to something heavy with a pulse. This was the closest she could get to giving you her heart.

No part of you could quite comprehend how esteemed and dear this gift was. Whether the crowds were dying down or you were just honed in on the book and your girlfriend, but it was like the world around you knew not to intrude on such a moment. Nothing ceased to exist outside this pocket of time where you stood, with the woman you love, in the city that raised her, and a piece of her soul in your possession. 

One deep breath, then two, before you blinked and a tear fell. You didn’t wipe it away. She did.

“I don’t know what to say, Ale.” You whispered as if afraid that a decibel higher would steal the memory away from you. “This is everything to me.”

You couldn’t believe she had chosen you to share this part of her with. 

“You’re everything to me. That’s what I wanted to show you.” Came her response, in a soft, dulcet tone. Her knuckle wiped away another tear. “Don’t cry outside of Casa Batlló, that is so guiri of you.” 

Her humour broke through your astonishment and caused you to burst out into tearful laughter, the brunette joining you instantly. You tucked the book against your chest, coincidentally right over your heart without even thinking, before rushing forward to get a hug from her. She accepted it immediately, leaning her forehead against your temple, her heart rate higher than ever from the nerves she felt at giving you her book. In that silence, punctuated periodically by your sniffles of disbelief, she held you. Like she always did. 

—

It was a miracle that the pair of you made it to the dinner you’d booked later that evening. You with your emotions and Alexia with her lack of restraint at keeping her hands to herself. 

You did make it, though, of which you were glad for. Not only because you were hungry after a day of walking and a few too many tears, but also because the restaurant you’d booked a table at was difficult enough to find a reservation for, nevermind on Sant Jordi too. It was one of Alexia’s favourites and yours too, a surefire way to cap off the day successfully. 

Neither of you could stand being away from each other for a second; had anyone been with you for the duration of the day, it would have been sickening for them to see. But you just didn’t care. You sat in the same side of the booth at dinner, either with hands linked, a hand on the other’s thigh, or knees touching as you used your cutlery, like a couple that hadn’t seen in each other a year, not one that had spent the last twelve hours constantly in each other’s company. Dinner was perfect, the company even better, and the aftermath back at home just to top it all off.

Together, you ended the night with a bath. A cliche, rom-com type setting, with low light and candles and glasses of champagne seated next to each other on the ledge of it. You had your back against her chest, her legs caging yours, with her arm around your waist. In her hand, the book you’d given her. In yours, the poems in her mother tongue you were slowly making your way through with a little help here and there. 

You wanted the day to last forever. 

Instead, midnight was drawing near, the water was cooling, and yawns kept sounding from the pair of you as you read your books. Eventually, you heard the gentle sound of Alexia closing her book echo through the bathroom, before she carefully dropped it to the tiled floor. Both her arms came to wrap around your torso then, her head ducking down to scatter kisses across your shoulder, back, neck, any bit of skin she could comfortably reach. Then, in a low, coarse, tired voice-

“Best Sant Jordi ever.” 

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel’s jealousy gets harder to handle knowing the history you and Tommy had.]

PART 4, the other parts are linked below this chapter.

“You watchin’ my girl undress?” Joel turned to him, the thought of his brother or any man trying to take a look at you this way made him feel…territorial.

It had been a month now since the truth came out. A month since Tommy learned you had cheated on him with Joel, and as much as Tommy tried to act like the understanding brother that knew Joel was in love with you, there was a lingering anger brewing inside him.

Of course there was, Tommy felt Joel didn’t deserve you to give him a chance, he felt he was the better choice and you failed to see it. It felt strange having a relationship with Joel after the way things happened, you avoided seeing Tommy as much as possible. Even after apolgizing to him you didn’t have the face to be with Joel in front of him in his house.

It was plain wrong.

Joel knew his brother was still upset at the situation but he didn’t know just how much of a grudge he was holding. Watching you and Joel outside the window every morning, being affectionate, kissing him, talking with him as if nothing happened, it wasn’t fair. But Tommy knew how he could get his revenge, see only he knew just how much of a jealous side Joel had. Although Joel tried to move along with you these past few weeks, he knew damn well that Joel couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you slept with Tommy at all. You knew Joel must’ve thought about it, although, he promised you he would never bring it up.

Joel kissed you by your front door before heading off to work. He could feel you softly push him away as his tongue swirled around yours.

“Ok, ok..not here”

He sighed as he took a step back.

“Tommy can come out any minute” you whispered softly brushing your hand up his chest.

“I know but we can’t stay hidden forever, he knows we’re together” Joel attempted to argue but simply by the look on your face he tightened his lips. You knew he didn’t like it, he felt he should be able to freely show his woman how much he wanted her without worrying about his brother. He wasn’t proud about how things had gone down, but Tommy admitted to him he didn’t love you, he insisted for his brother to go on with his life…but he wasn’t honest to himself.

Tommy had kept silent about you as much as he could but it was getting harder for him to stay that way. Driving the truck to work, Tommy looked over at his brother eager to start up a conversation. Easy to find a way to speak of you.

“So how’s y/n doin’?”

Joel hesitantly looked over at his brother, not expecting to hear your name from his mouth.

“She’s fine”

“Guess that pill worked huh?” A sarcastic tone played with a smile, Joel’s brows furrowed.

“S’cuse me?” He knew damn well what pill Tommy was referring to. That damn after pill that Joel had secretly hoped wouldn’t work.

“Ya know, her plan B or whatever-“

“I know what the hell youre talkin’ about, why are ya speakin of it?” Joel snapped. Tommy shrugged with a light laugh.

“Just sayin’”

Later that day at work with a few other men, Joel overheard one of the guys speaking on what their wife was into. From afar he shook his head hearing the men get lost in their stories until Tommy began to share his.

“This last girl I was into, she liked it real rough” he smirked as he continued to work, he knew Joel would be listening in. The second Tommy began bragging about a sexual encounter, he looked up from the corner of his eyes, lips pressed tightly wondering if he was speaking of you. It had to be.

“Don’t they all” one of the guys interrupted with a laugh.

“Na this one was somethin’ else man. She melted into a damn puddle the second I’d wrap my hand around her throat” he looked over to see Joel biting his inner cheek, attempting to block out the conversation, keeping himself busy but he knew damn well he was listening.

“Oh she sounds like a wild ride” another man responded with excitement.

“It was a one time ride I wouldn’t mind testin’ out again” Joel instantly looked up hearing the two men laugh.

“What’s so funny?” He stopped what he was doing walking towards them.

“Just a story he was tellin’ me bout some broad” the guy responded with a laugh.

“How about we get back to work and stop the damn chit chat, maybe then we’d get home in time for dinner” the men stood silent as Joel turned back to where he was.

The drive home was silent until Joel’s beeper went off. Tommy looked over seeing Joel adjust himself in his seat.

“You in a rush to be somewhere?”

“Got plans”

Tommy smirked knowing those plans were with you, especially having Sarah stay at her friend’s house tonight.

“Whatchu guys doin’ tonight? Just some fun or-“

“None of your damn business”

“Hey, Joel relax. We’re brothers, we’re good, we can talk about this”

“No, no we can’t” he looked at the road ahead in silence thinking over what he overheard at work. A part of him aching to confront him about it, while the other half fought to ignore it. He promised you he wouldn’t let it get to him. But Tommy could see it, the tension on him as he stared at the road ahead of what he had heard but he wouldn’t give in.

“Aren’t cha gonna ask me?” Tommy peaked over at him as he drove

“Ask ya what?” Joel responded low.

“If I was talkin’ bout ya girl before”

“Stop while you’re ahead” he warned just as Tommy pulled up into the driveway.

“Look it’s nothin’ personal, sometimes we talk about the women we’ve had and-“ Joel stepped out of the car slamming the door shut.

You heard Joel’s truck just outside your window. The excitement you felt whenever you knew he returned home, excitedly you walked out the front door to see him walking towards your front yard. But your smile instantly dropped when you saw his face, you knew something was wrong.

“Oh come on, Joel. It ain’t that serious” you looked over to see Tommy by the truck calling out to him. Awkwardly you stood there when you and Tommy locked eyes. The second Joel saw him staring at you he walked faster towards you.

“Come on, get inside” he whispered, his hands finding your waist gently pushing you back into the door.

“What happened?” You whispered looking up at him.

“Nothin’, just get inside” you did as he asked hearing him slam the door shut behind him after you both walked in. He looked agitated, even if he didn’t want to admit it, you knew him very well.

“Baby, what’s wrong” you whispered gently caressing his face, he looked down at you for a moment silently. You could tell he was thinking something but he wouldn’t say what. In that moment Joel was having intrusive thoughts, thoughts bought upon his brother. The thought of his brother touching you in ways he was only ever meant to. His mind once again thinking of that night that he walked in to the house with your moans echoing down the hall. Now, thanks to Tommy with more visuals. Joel knew you loved him but his jealousy was tearing into him deeper and deeper. How rough was Tommy with you? Did you want him to be more rough with you?

Joel suddenly grabbed your face and kissed you in a way he never had. You squealed stumbling backwards before feeling his hand on your lower back pulling you against him.

“Joel..” you whispered a bit confused as he kissed your neck. He moved aggressively, abruptly picking you up and sitting you on your desk.

“Joel wait-“ his hand grabbing a chunk of your hair, tugging at it harder than he ever had. You gasped as he held your head in place, his lips parting from yours, he stopped and looked down at you for just a moment.

“Is this how ya like it?” He whispered as you stared up at him confused.

“I-“

“Tell me” he demanded. You didn’t understand where this was coming from.

“Is this what had you screamin’ in that room with him?” His brows furrowed as you abruptly pushed him back making him let go of your hair.

“Excuse me?!” You jumped down from the desk walking towards him.

“Is that what this is about?!”

“What, from what I hear you like it a little rough” it was as if he wasn’t himself speaking to you. Anger in his eyes he let his emotions get the best of him.

“You promised you’d never-“

“Yeah I know” he cut you off coldly.

“Get out” you whispered looking away. Embarrassed by the whole situation, never had you regretted something so much. He didn’t move for a moment, for just a second he felt guilt. He didn’t like speaking to you this way, he hated seeing you upset.

“Get out!” You screamed.

Joel more angry at himself than anything walked out slamming the door shut.

“Hey you’re back early” Tommy grinned as Joel walked in.

“Get outta my way” Joel uttered under his breath before walking past him angrily and into his room. Tommy raised his brows wondering what happened, apart of him pleased to see some kind of tension between you two.

Tommy went to his room, enjoying his drink he began looking for one of his magazines he always loved to take a look at after a long day until he looked past his window. Taking a double look, he realized he could see you walking into your bedroom. You seemed upset but quickly brushed away any tears. Curiously he continued to watch and that’s when you began to take off your clothes. Tommy took a step closer, he watched as you walked around the bedroom in your bra, a smirk on his face when Joel suddenly opened the door. Tommy’s face instantly dropping the second Joel appeared. Joel instantly noticing the smirk on Tommy’s face just a second before.

“You don’t knock?” Tommy turned away from the window casually walking to his desk.

“What were ya lookin’ at?” Joel furrowed his brows knowing damn well what was outside of his window.

“Nothin’ man just-“ Joel walked into the room, his boots loudly hitting the floor when he noticed you, clear as day through your window. Taking your ear rings off and letting your hair loose, he could see you in your bra not having a clue you were being watched.

Tommy began to laugh nervously.

“Look, Joel.. it ain’t my fault-“

“You watchin’ my girl undress?” Joel turned to him, the thought of his brother or any man trying to take a look at you this way made him feel…territorial. Tommy stood silent, he knew that look his brother had..he knew exactly what it meant.

“Joel, I ain’t see nothin’” he walked backwards as Joel slowly walked towards him. Built up resentment he could no longer hold inside.

“Come on, man, if we’re being real….its not like it’s nothing I haven’t already seen” and with that, Joel blacked out.

After changing out of your clothes and putting on a robe you suddenly heard your doorbell going off.

“What the hell?” You came running down the stairs to see Joel through the window.

“What the hell is wrong with you-“ you opened the door ready to scream, ready to argue when you noticed a bloody lip and raw knuckles.

“Joel” you whispered he stared down at you out of breath.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry for hating the idea of any man having had you let alone…my damn brother-“ you could hear the desperation in his voice.

“You’re mine and-“ he shook his head as if he was trying to find the right words to say.

“I can’t stand the idea of anyone else touchin’ ya, dammit. If that makes me a jerk then I’m sorry” you couldn’t help but attempt to hold back a smile.

“The hell ya smilin’ at?”

“I’m sorry, it’s not funny. I just-wow…I didn’t know you could be this jealous. Listen, I’m really sorry about all of this, Joel. It’s a tricky situation” you gently took hold of his arm and pulled him in the house.

“I don’t wanna fight” you whispered.

“Neither do I” he assured you.

“Look at you” you thumb gently going over his bloody lip.

“Yeah that was-“ he looked away ashamed.

“Tommy and his damn mouth”

“Ignore him”

“Kinda hard to do that, especially with you and ya damn blinds being open-“

“What?” You looked up at him confused.

“He saw you in your bra-“

“Oh shit!” You shook your head.

“I completely forgot I took my wooden blinds off to buy new ones. I was suppose to get them today”

“I’ll get em and have em up for ya, tomorrow”

You could tell Joel wasn’t gonna take no for an answer and simply nodded.

“Got it” you smiled and took him to the kitchen to help clean him up.

“Well…is he ok?” You hesitated to ask as you put a bag of ice to his lip.

“Didn’t leave him to bad, we’re fine though…just needed to-“

“Let it out?” You raised a brow. Joel took a deep breath with a nod before you gently took his face and kissed him softly on his forehead.

Sorry about the tags, for some reason it gave me an issue to tag anyone here.

[totallynottinsel]

You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream

Sleeping Beauty AU

He was gone.

Bilbo had thought he'd accepted that long after he'd returned to Bag End, but more often than not tears fell that drained him, forcing him to sleep.

He saw the light flicker from his eyes and how the color left his skin. His chest stopped heaving, he was at peace.

Bilbo was tired, but he did not want to rest. He did not want to have those dreams again, see the blood on his hands, the sting in his chest.

Thorin Oakenshield was dead. That was that.

There was a gentle knock that jumped Bilbo out from his quiet thinking, sitting in his armchair with a hot mug of tea that warmed his belly. He deeply sighed, figuring it was Lobelia come to heckle at him for the 3rd time that week about those bloody spoons. "Nobody's home!" He shouted, but more knocks came. "Oh, you've got to be joking." He stood and tied the string around his robe forward, stomping to the door to swing it open wearing nothing but a frown. "I've had just about enough of---oh."

"Always quite the welcome when I come to your doorstep, Bilbo Baggins." Gandalf smiled fondly, still clad in his pointy grey hat and holding his crooked staff.

"Gandalf! I wasn't expecting... visitors. I thought you were long gone from the Shire?"

"I do apologize, but I am not here for idle chat," Suddenly the wizard's face sunk. "I fear I carry some unexpected news."

Bilbo felt his chest tighten; he was certain he was finished with all things unexpected and unplanned for the rest of his days. "Well, let's have it then." His hand fell inside his pocket to fondle the Ring. Gandalf eyed the movement, but carried on.

"Thorin Oakenshield is alive."

This had to be a cruel joke. An unfair punishment by whatever entity watched over hobbit life, thinking he deserved such for some reason. For all he knew he could be dreaming all this up! He didn't exactly remember going to bed or waking up, everything just felt blurred together. He started to feel dizzy.

"Bilbo?"

No, of course this wasn't real. Just a figment of his sad imagination trying to make things seem better than they were. He started laughing because he didn't know what else to do. Thorin wasn't alive, he saw him---he watched him die. Over and over again he watched and he couldn't do a single damn thing. He twisted the Ring faster.

"I really do think it would be best if you sit---"

He blinked roughly, his eyes becoming heavy and harder to keep open. His hand felt for the wall to keep him steady, he could hear his heart in his ears. He wanted to sleep, he wanted all of it to just go away so he could be content again.

"Are you listening to me? For goodness sake!"

Gandalf's displeased voice was the last thing he heard before he fell backwards onto the floor out cold.

"I don't... this can't be possible," Bilbo shook his head, now awake back in his armchair and his mug, though he wasn't all that thirsty anymore. "Gandalf, I saw him..." His stomach turned, unable to finish. The wizard gestured that there was no need for him to continue.

"I know this seems unthinkable, believe me I did not know what to make of it at first. Even for a wizard of my caliber, this... this is work I am not familiar with."

"What do you mean?"

"Thorin Oakenshield has been placed under a dark force, an eternal sleep, so I've come to learn. He still breathes and blood runs through his veins as if it is nothing but mere rest, but he cannot be woken. The company has tried to no success." Said Gandalf. "Be it what may have transpired during his battle with the Defiler, it seems a formidable curse is inside him---by whom is still a mystery."

A curse? Bilbo placed his mug down with shaky hands; whether it was orc done or not, it sounded like just the sort of sickly twisted outcome Azog would have wanted. What was better than death? One every soul you ever loved could watch for the rest of their days, as you slowly deteriorated by the years. "I---I don't understand. You really can't help him? You're the greatest wizard I've known!"

Gandalf's eyes drooped downward. "I am truly sorry, my dear friend. Some things are beyond my reach."

"Yes, of course." Bilbo's heart sank even further. "Well, thank you for telling me." Somehow it was far worse than Thorin being simply gone, as now part of him was reachable again---and how Bilbo wished to grasp his hand or be huddled in his embrace. But Thorin was still missing, he couldn't hear his voice or see his eyes or tell him how he felt. It wasn't the same. He wondered if the dwarf still dreamed.

Pure torture his life was becoming. At this rate he might as well give Lobelia those spoons just to really make things chipper!

"That is not all I've come to tell," Gandalf cleared his pipes, sitting straight and grabbing the hobbit's attention immediately. "The company and I believe that you, Bilbo Baggins, are our key to waking him."

"Excuse me?" His brows furrowed, confused. He was beginning to think the wizard was pulling his leg. "How am----am I supposed to wake him? Don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly the... spell casting type. I'm failing to see how this is a good idea." What was he supposed to do? Scare the curse away? Lobelia would be quite good at that, now that he thought of it. Absolutely terrifying.

"Hm, yes, you are not. But you have one thing the rest of us do not. I do think it would be best if... er, the company explain this to you, though." And Gandalf may have told him himself if he knew how the company would pitch their idea to their favorite burglar come returned to the mountain.

"You want me to what?!"

"Just what I said, kiss him! Is not that difficult, is it?" Said Kili, eyes wide and spirit bright as when he'd left.

"Call me blind but I don't see how that is supposed to rid him of a bloody curse!"

"Listen, we were reading up on some books once all of us realized it was a curse," Fili interjected. "And Ori came across this old tale on something---what was it again?"

"Oh, yes!" Ori came skipping over with all sorts of papers in hand. "It was a story about a maiden who fell ill from an evil creature who cursed her life with a sleep she could never wake up from. Eventually her husband killed the creature, right? And he thought she was dead, but he kissed her goodbye and she was back! According to the book, very few dwarves have seen a curse like this across thousands of years."

"Leave it to orcs to weave in the threads of cruel old world magic to get what they desire." Said Gandalf.

"But you see now? Only someone's true One can wake them. And you..." Kili wriggled his eyebrows at the hobbit.

"I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because I---I..." Bilbo waved his hands around trying to find the words hopelessly. "Look, I'm not what you think I am. Really. I doubt that..." I'm Thorin's One. Even if he wished to be, his chances seemed rather slim to him.

"Lad, I know it's not right for us to spring this on you so sudden, after so long---but you mean somethin' special to Thorin. We all see it." Balin came to his side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We wouldn't have called you here if we didn't believe this would save him."

"Aye," Dwalin nodded. "You've got fierce loyalty in ye', even if this... magical-hoo-ha sounds like a pile of horse shite,"

"Dwalin---" Balin raised a hand at his brother, unaware of where his point was heading.

"Let me finish, will ye'? Even if I don't believe innit all, I know... Thorin's got a good place in'es heart for you, I see it. If anyone was gonna bring him back it'd be you."

"S'all true!" Said Glóin. "I know love when it's got me square in the face."

"Right that, the tension between the two is so strong it's like tryin' to cut through a frozen bucket of milk from a mountain ram." Bofur's blunt and frankly quite specific comparison had everyone staring at him blankly. "Was it something I said?"

"It's your decision, there's no need to pressure yourself into it." Balin said.

Bilbo glanced around at all of his friends, waiting for his answer; no matter what there was pressure on his shoulders, a fairly large one. Save the King and your friend and or possibly more from an eternal sleep---of course. "Can I see him?"

They had moved him from the cold depths of Erebor to an elegant chamber, cleaned and fined to look as it was before the mountain came under fire. The bed was downed in wooden poles that held lengthy canopies draped around. Thorin lay motionless other than the rise and fall of his chest, undisturbed as if he had not faced a brutal foe, still like a great piece carved from stone. Bilbo's hands shook and his knees wanted to buckle the moment he entered the room alone, as he was stood facing what he thought he'd lost for good.

He sucked in a breath and approached the bed, sitting down on the edge just by the dwarf's corner, though still offering him space. His heart pounded as he reached a tentative hand to Thorin's, touching his calloused, warm skin. Far from the cold and unsettling pang he'd felt last. He retracted his hand quickly, holding it over his lips when a cry came to lurch out from his throat. Tears swelled in his eyes and tickled down his cheeks, unable to keep them at bay, like those difficult first nights in Bag End. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." The words started to spill from him between heavy breaths.

"I should've---" He lowered till his upper half fell to embrace Thorin, resting his head on his chest when slow sobs picked away at him. "I should... I should've been there. For you." He listened to the dwarf's heart beat steadily in response, holding to his limp arm. "Just don't go. Don't go."

He didn't eat much that night, even against Bombur's cheesy filled bread---which was very un-hobbit like of him. If he was in the Shire he'd be kicked right out of the dinner table. He curled up in his guest bed, fiddling with the blankets, the Ring, unable to keep still. He couldn't have come all this way just to give up because of the hope that it might work. It was just a kiss, he was overthinking it! Just a kiss... with Thorin. He smashed his face into the nearest pillow, groaning. What in the world was he supposed to do if it actually worked? What if the company greatly misjudged Thorin's affections and it was nothing but a very strong... friendship? Emotionally and physically close male bond--? Bilbo didn't even think that was the right label for them, it was utterly, annoyingly complicated.

In the wake of the midnight was when he decided he was going to do it. What did he have to lose, anyways? Well... quite a lot, actually. But that was a problem for the later future.

"Remember, even if this... doesn't go through, at the very least you tried lad." Said Balin.

"Thanks." Bilbo nodded. He was at the edge of the bed, inches from Thorin who was the same as before. He looked back to the whole company of dwarves who stood, watching, waiting... hang on, did they really want to see him do it? They weren't the clearest bunch on when privacy was needed, at least aside from Balin, who tried shuffling awwy. "Er, do you mind?"

"Oh, no, not at all. Go right ahead!" Bofur called from the back.

"Make it a good one!" Kili hollered from afar.

"I mean get out!" Bilbo huffed and waved his hands at them to go, which thankfully they did, shutting the door behind them and leaving the room quiet. His eyes fell to the floor as the tense silence grew around them, pawing at the fabric of his trousers, stalling as long as he possibly could. Just get it over with already! He told himself. After about a minute or two of delay, he finally looked to Thorin again, and felt another chip at his heart.

"This isn't exactly how I pictured it happening, but... here's to trying, I suppose." If Thorin was fully himself he imagined he'd make some stupid, smart comment to that. He missed those. As he snuck closer he slipped his hand into the dwarfs once more, giving it a firm squeeze. His other gently ran over his cheek, brushing against the subtle spikes of his beard.

Taking in a breath leaned forward, closing his eyes and ever so carefully he pressed his lips to Thorin's. It only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back, feeling a welcome thrill run through him before his cheeks ran red with incredible embarrassment. Not like anyone was there to see it, but still. He watched, waiting for a response---any kind. The dwarf's eyes only subtly twitched, his body still unmoving. Bilbo blew out a slow sigh, hanging his head low. "I knew it," He quietly laughed, if he didn't he'd just start crying all over again; why did he think he'd be able to swoop in and be the hero?

"Bilbo?"

His heart fully stopped. His eyes shot upward, falling on Thorin, who squinted against the light and instinctively felt for his wound---or at least where he last remembered it being, as it was now patched and nearly healed. Other than seeming rather confused, he was alive. Thorin was alive.

"Oh, oh! It worked!" Bilbo jumped to his feet, clasping a hand over his mouth. He did it---he actually did it! "I can't believe it..."

"What worked? And why..." Thorin barely got the chance to contemplate their circumstances before Bilbo was on him, arms tight over his shoulders, leaning into the crook of his neck. Thorin held him firmly in return.

"Don't you ever do that to me again! Do you hear me? I've gone absolutely mad because of you. I considered giving away my spoons!"

"Spoons?" Thorin didn't exactly know their significance.

"Spoons!" Bilbo frowned, and Thorin tenderly brushed a thumb over the tears that soaked over his skin. His hand cupped the hobbit's cheek. "Thorin,"

"Yes?"

Oh, screw it all. You only live once, or twice---in Thorin's case. Or was it three? Bilbo thought, and as they sat embraced he crashed his lips to the dwarf's, to which was returned avidly without a beat of hesitation. Thorin's hand wrung through his light curls, inching him closer in; for a man who might as well have died and fell into a strange sleep, he wasn't holding anything back. Bilbo felt tipsy just by his touch, and bless the hills he'd never been more thankful in all his days---that was, until the company came charging in.

There was a mix of whistles and yells and cheerfully surprised hoots. Fili and Kili just about body slammed them both on the bed, successfully crushing Bilbo to get to their dear uncle. "We knew it would work!" matched with: "Ha! That's our hobbit!"

"Don't squash the poor lad, boys!" Balin said.

Dwalin didn't have much of a problem pulling Bilbo out from the pile. "We told ye'te kiss him, not shag 'em on the---"

"I wasn't doing anything!" Bilbo raised his hands in defense. "At least not that much..."

"You told him to do what?" Thorin raised his head up from his nephews weight, still waiting for a solid explanation as to why one moment he was being stabbed, the next he was stuck in the worst dreamscape he's ever witnessed, and was woken by none other than Bilbo Baggins and a very lovely kiss. "Would someone like to catch me up on what is going on?"

"Ohh, yes," Kili nodded. "Should you start or should I?"

"Let's both." Fili said.

"Right, so it all started when Ori found this book..."

[neighbourhoodspidey]

close your eyes, give me your hand

gn reader and wanda (no powers au)

summary: you would love her in any way you can and show her in all the ways you could (is that good enough of a summary?)

a/n: i think it's better when the fonts for the summary, notes etc is better when it's tiny. do let me know if it's the opposite though i'm still trying to work my way around. i listened to the poll and the other 30% won. i’m not sure if i wanted to make it smutty or not but i think the fluff was needed. the history between me and the title is saddening. if you can guess what it is you will have my love. also some fluff was needed after the devastating weeks i’ve had. and sooo i thought, along with the vote, maybe i could write something for wanda, who does deserve and need all the love. she is special and lives in our hearts. leave anything in the comments section spam with love spam with your lovely presence LETSGOOO

warnings: nothing, just pure fluff and reader reassuring wanda. proofread although there might be…drumroll…mistakes left behind. but do let me know if i missed anything else

w/c: 2.28 k (i think i got it right)

Everything was wrong. She wasn’t even sure she looked good in the dress she was wearing, that she had to practically dive through her wardrobe to find. So she did the only sensible thing, she took it off and tried another one.

But it’s not like she, or even you could walk out of this. You already accepted to go to the dinner party along with Pietro, Monica and Darcy. A dinner that was rare, seeing as Pietro was climbing the scales of being an international athlete, Monica was an engineer in aerospace and Darcy was running her own art gallery. And with you being bakery owners it was complicated to gather around everyone from different states. That’s why backing down was not an option.

It doesn’t mean it was not stressful. Sure, the thought of seeing her brother along with her bestfriends warmed her heart. But the negativity slowly took over. For no apparent reason.

She could hear your faint hums in the living room, dancing to the music you would always play for whenever you’d get ready. It made her smile, just hearing you sing the lyrics with a grin, without caring whether you got them wrong or not. If only she could go downstairs and sing with you, twirl in your arms as you delay going over last minute details but she can’t.

It was never like this. Maybe it’s because her introversion went from interesting to boring. Maybe she wasn’t an interesting person at all. And she can’t even dress well enough to go out-

“Wanda?” You called her name. Though your voice was soothing it wasn’t enough to drown the plaguing thoughts.

God she wanted to cry but she couldn’t because that would mean having to do her makeup that she spent her time doing all over again. Even more when you stepped closer, your hands gingerly reaching for hers.

“Hey…what’s wrong, lovely?” She intertwined her hands with yours, playing with your fingers, words mulling over and over in her mind. Should she be truthful? She doubted you’d scoff it off but she was being ridiculous, nearly crying as if she’s a teenager who wants to make a first good impression on their date.

You waited for her to speak, not wanting to rush her, but still comforting her in any way you can, stroking the skin of her arms, silently letting her know that you’re here for as long as she needs.

“I just…” It’s an attempt, a slow one but an attempt nonetheless. “I don’t know, does this dress look good on me?” She expected for you to laugh, or even chuckle, but you did not. Your eyes were gazing warmly at her, as if the answer is evident to you.

“I think it looks wonderful. You are wonderful.” That was the only word that came to your mind but if you were being honest, you would say so much more. The only thing you’re capable of doing is admiring every intricate detail of her outfit. “Is that…is that what you’re worried about? Because we have time, you know. The reservation won’t be over until an hour.”

“That’s the thing.” She slowly drops your hands, nodding to the pile of clothes on the ground. “I tried so many– but I don’t know, they don’t seem to fit me. And you’ve been waiting enough and I don’t want to waste your time…”

You turned to look at the clothes, dresses, suits, skirts, blazers all scattered. It made your heart sink, though you could tell there was more to her worrying about her clothes. You lift her chin, making her meet your eyes, away from the growing pile of anxiety. “Waste my time in any way you want, I won’t leave.” She playfully rolled her eyes at your remark and you shared a sparse but genuine laugh. “Wanda, you’re amazing in anything. Actually, you are amazing. More amazing than the word amazing and that is…well…amazing.” It was oddly sweet how you clumsily stumbled on your words but you were honest.

“You’re not saying that because you feel like you have to, right? I mean it’s okay if I don’t look good. I don’t even know why I bother going out these days I’m so- I don’t want you to hate me, and I don’t want you to think I’m awful by saying that, I know you don’t but you can and I–” You interrupted her ramble by raising her hands to your lips, kissing each knuckle, lingering on the one that bears an special attachment symbolising your attachment and love to her. Then you turn her hand, kissing the inside of her wrist. 

“I promise you. And there’s nothing that can make me change what I say, what I think or feel about you.” Your words, your touch, makes a pleasant heat bloom in her chest. Even the way you’re looking at her right now, like you feel tethered to her. “If…if you want, I can show you.” And god, your voice was low, in a calming whisper, similar to how you would speak in your most intimate moments. 

“But…the reservation?” It was not a bad idea. But she did wonder what you had in mind.

“I’ll be quick.” You tapped the tip of her nose, making her bite your finger in retaliation. “Hey!” 

“Alright, alright…show me. But if we’re late-”

“Darling, we won’t. Trust me.” You kissed her, chaste but sweet, and sealed your promise. You raised your eyebrow in a silent question, to which she nodded. 

You then led her to the vanity, making sure that her whole body can be seen, and stood right behind her, eyes never leaving hers in the reflection. Your hands found themselves around her waist, holding her near you, the warmth of your body blending with hers. “I don’t see anything that I won’t like. Or that anyone won’t, for that matter. I see someone who is beautiful, has a beautiful soul and mind. You’re caring, kind…and so attentionate. And funny.” As if on cue she makes a funny face, about to protest when you kiss her cheek. “Yes, your silly dad jokes play on rewind in the back of my mind, yes I tell them to others and mention that it’s all you.”

“You’re just being silly…” The flush taking over her face gives her away. Though she doesn’t deny it, she does try to hide but you don’t let her, tracing her face with your soft palm, your eyes still focused on your reflection. “Look up, baby. We’re not done here yet.” It takes everything in her to control herself from hiding in the confines of your arms but she listens. You press a kiss to her neck to express you’re proud of her, admiring the goosebumps rising on her flesh. “It’s true. I tell everyone, as soon as they ask me about you, how you can be funny.”

“But I’m not necessarily talkative?”

“It does not make you not, not funny. Besides…you have non-verbal funny traits too. Like when you would flop down on the bed after a long shift of baking cookies, how you would swear in Sokovian and whenever you’d tilt your head when you’re angry. Although, that’s hot if I’m being honest here.” She tries to hold back her smile but she can’t, it even forces a laugh out of her. Your hands then spin her around, making her erupt in giggles. “And your laugh…I swear that’s the only thing I want to hear. I can be in the busiest of streets and I’d recognise it. Nothing can make me forget anything about it…or your voice, for that fact. It’s a song that I will never get tired of hearing.” 

It was like you were reciting your vows, but even better. Like you were extending them. And she liked it. The cruel voice slowly dimmed down to nothing, being chased and crumpled by your reassuring tone, carrying her to safety and warmth.

“And your clothes. When you told me about your emo phase it made me fall harder for you. Leather jacket, smokey eyes, knee-high socks and skirts? I would let you do anything to my heart. Seriously. And even if you’re not dressed like that anymore…your shirts, your pants…how you would wear sweats for when you’re staying in, sundress for when it’s casual or long dresses for when you need to go out…” Your hands were now on her sides, sliding down, as were your eyes, as if slowly memorising her. “You’re gorgeous in anything. Especially when you’re wearing my clothes.”

The heat she felt in her chest now traveled to the rest of her body, a welcoming sensation, and you’re the cause of it. A cause she happily accepts. 

“Maybe I should wear more of yours then…” She can’t even speak anymore, too caught up in your devotion. Nearly everything else is ignored but you.

“Maybe you should. But again, I’d like you, love you in everything. And…” You let go of her hips, making her miss your touch but you lifted her hands again, this time to your chest, placing them on your heart. She can feel the regular beating rate, how steady it is. “I can explain what you do to me in words. I can explain what you do to me. My heart, my senses, everything– they are locked on to you, Wanda. I can never hate you. I can’t hate my best friend, my lover, my wife. Not for the simplests of reasons, ever. And…even if you doubt it, you are human, Wanda. You’re allowed to make mistakes. I’ll walk you through it if you’d allow me. You’ll never be alone because you’ll always have me and your friends. You are loved and appreciated by everyone.”

She felt a tear fall, then two, then four more. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you close, your words a soothing balm, the shouting voice in the corner of her head completely forgotten. 

“I love you.” She brokenly whispers, arms tightening around you, not letting you go, refusing to let you go, even if you’re not leaving.

“I love you too.” You kissed her hairline, swaying your bodies, giving her all the time she needed to process. She pulls away from your shoulder and grazes her lips against yours. You allow her to engulf them in yours in a passionate, tender embrace, a testimony of your words, how you feel for her, always felt for her.

Her mind is now blank, not being able to focus on anything but your hums, your scent, your hands holding her face in place, until air was necessary again. You break apart, softly gasping, eyes heavy with desire. A sweet, innocent kind.

“I’m lucky to have you. You know that, right?”

“I’ll be in every dimension you are, Wanda.” You kissed her tears before pulling her closer to your chest, enveloping her with warmth. She could now hear the music playing in the living room again, as if it’s a reminder. She is supposed to be here. She belongs here. With you. 

You hold her in silence before she kisses your lips once more again, holding herself back, or else she knows you wouldn’t make it past the door.

“Do you…do you still want to go? I’m sure they’ll understand, we can reschedule. Or just eat at home if that’s what you’d like.” It seems you were trying to hold yourself back too, eyes flicking between her swollen lips and the ones that stuck you in place.

“I’m…I can do it. With you. I just need to take care of this mess and my makeup-”

“I’m on it. I’ll take care of it. Do you need anything else?” 

“Hmm…” She ponders, heart racing at your eagerness. An inviting, but not invasive eagerness. “Maybe just one more kiss…and you, here. That can be taken care of later.”

“Right, got it.” You stepped near her again, wrapping your arms around her hips, offering her anything she wants.

You’d spend an eternity doing it, all out of love, and genuine devotion, and your reminders will always be eternal, in any moments needed.

[ldysmfrst]

American Mate (16) - We are Alphas

Paring: Hybrid!BTS Ot7 x Plus-sized Human FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 16 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 6,822

Work count for Story: 130,009

Genre: Hybrid Playmate Au inspired by works created by @yoongiofmine

A little about the author: I am a mother of two beautiful children, one of whom has special needs, and the other loves everyone. I started a Patreon, and I would be grateful if you donated to help me make ends meet while I am out of work because I almost died in August of 2024.

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This chapter does have pack dynamics, Alphas fronting, and discussions of the past. There are cuddles in this one, figured it was needed after the last chapter. FYI, I swear the Bangtan boys wrote this chapter, not me!

BTS HYBRID ANIMAL TYPES: Seokjin - Roan Ferret, Yoongi - Black Jaguar, Hoseok - Marten, Namjoon - Alaskan Timber Wolf, Jimin - Red Panda, Taehyung - White Southwest African Tiger, Jungkook - Flemish Giant Rabbit

AMERICAN MATE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

“Sit down, Taehyung-ah,” orders Namjoon just as the tiger hybrid is about to get up and follow you to your den. “You already have given her enough to deal with. Tailing after her could very well push her in a direction, and with how things are, we don’t know if it will be a good one or not.”

With a frustrated sigh and a pout, Taehyung says, “I wasn’t gonna do anything.” He then turns around and leans against the couch instead—his thoughts, along with everyone else's, spiral in several different directions. The internal loud silence that fills the living room reveals how flustered and perplexed the seven hybrids are. 

“Can someone please convince me that our ladymate didn’t just tell us, in a roundabout way, that she wanted to stay with Hyung and me this morning?” Jimin asks in a soft but desperate voice. His fluffy, striped tail switches between an excited swishing to a nervous flicking motion while he waits for someone to agree with him out loud. 

Unfortunately, his request is met with an even louder silence. Their thoughts, having agreed with Jimin’s, have played out more than what would be considered an unhealthy amount of possible outcomes from that particular situation. While this seems to be a step in the right-ish direction, the pack is still in what they consider unstable and uncharted territory. 

Well, to be honest, this whole situation was uncharted territory for the seven of them because their new mate was A—a female and B—a human. So much information has been gathered in such a short time that has to be processed and addressed, but how? When?

Those who went to the pack meeting with your Family pack haven’t had the chance to share what they learned with the rest of the bonded mates, which allows them to have a better understanding and even more desire to soothe, heal, and support you. However, it was agreed that they would wait until they could guarantee privacy from staff. 

As the silence continues in the living room with their minds occupied, their ears intently focus on you. They can’t hear anything from your den, which indicates that you, like them, are a bit off-center about this meeting, or so they hope. 

After what seems like an eternity, the soft padding of your footfalls finally indicates that you have reached some point in your thoughts that allows you to move and not be frozen. It allows a release of the tension surrounding the bonded mates. As the energy becomes less heightened, Jungkook crawls into Yoongi’s lap with a hand stroking Taehyung’s hair, seeking comfort. The soft exhales from some of them break the silence, along with the rustling of clothes as they relax into their seats. 

“I think,” hesitantly starts Hoseok. “I think we need to do a few things with her. We can’t just keep thinking that she is fully educated on hybrid customs and behaviors like our past playmates because she isn’t. She isn’t educated properly, nor is she a playmate.”

“I also think she needs to learn to love herself more,” frowns Hoseok, his eyes drilling holes into the carpet.

“You noticed that, too? I think her family did an excellent job of crushing any kind of self-awareness or self-love for herself,” Yoongi says with a hint of snarl in his voice. “As her Alphas and her mates, it’s our job to ensure that she not only understands how exquisite she is to us but she also needs to see it with her own eyes.”

Nodding, Hoseok adds, “I think I can help that. I mean with my self-image issues from before, I have a personal perspective on what it’s like to experience that kind of pressure, more or less. Also, maybe in time, I can use some of my shibari skills to help with not only her body image issues but her trust as well.”

A collective hum comes from the pack. It’s been several years since Hoseok fought his demons when it came to his looks. For Seokjin and Namjoon, when those pictures of their mate bound in a mask find their way back into circulation because Army does those ‘glow up’ or 'where they started’ comparison shots on TikTok or Instagram, the feeling of failing to support their mate as the leader and the oldest surfaces.

As Jimin sits more comfortably in Seokjin’s lap, he looks at his mates confidently before offering assistance, saying, “I could teach her about nesting, specifically what it means at the hybrid level with all the differences between a den nest and a pack nest, along with the boundaries and such?”

“That is a good idea, Jimin-ah, but you must be delicate about it because of her past,” warns Hoseok. “You can’t just burst in and take over. I don’t want us to treat her like a kit, but at the same time…”

“Her ideas and thought processes are similar to how you were when you first joined us because you were both raised with misinformation or misguidance on acceptable behaviors,” says Yoongi. “I am not sure why her mother’s side of the family would have even associated her ‘blanket forts’ with a nest, though. I guess it was just too close of a behavior.”

Looking at Jimin, Yoongi continues, “I think she can learn a lot from you and Kook-ah. However, I think that, based on how you were raised, you might connect with her better.”

Unlike Jungkook, Jimin doesn’t necessarily like to discuss his past because it is something that he would very much like to forget. It took him almost a year to share details with his bonded mates. Now, lost in his thoughts, Jimin wonders if he should be upfront and detailed about it with you or just allude to what happened.

Jungkook whines at the thought of being unable to connect with you on a deeper level, prompting Taehyung to push against the bunny hybrid’s hand in his hair, saying, “Don’t worry, Kookie. You already have a connection with Y/n that is stronger than the rest of us. I think you might even have a better connection than Yoongi-hyung does.”

Tilting his head up from Yoongi’s lap, Jungkook peers over the arm of the couch at Jimin and snarkily says, “Speaking of my level of connection with Y/n, apparently it isn’t strong enough to garner an invitation into her nest.”

All eyes look to Jimin with hints of jealousy and curiosity, but mostly envy. Putting on a sly smirk and leaning into the eldest’s hold, the memory of your body tangled with his is still fresh in his mind, causing his scent to spike with sweetness. Jimin curves his body against Jin in a way that he knows will get his mates going, but the soft nip from Seokjin on his shoulder makes Jimin roll his eyes and shake his head, saying, “She had a nightmare about her past and the nest.”

“I had decided to sit on guard outside her door because I wanted to be the first mate she saw when she woke up due to what happened when I stepped on Taehyungie’s tail and ruined your night, Namjoon-hyung,” the red panda explains. “I knew something was… wrong when she had gone to sleep on the window bench, not the nest I made for her.”

Namjoon opens his mouth to reassure the younger, but the slight shake of Seokjin’s head stops him, allowing Jimin to continue, “It hadn’t been long before I heard her softly crying and making pained noises as if she were being attacked. When she didn’t respond to me calling her by name, I entered her den and saw…”

Jimin pauses with a gulp. “I saw her in the tiny ball crying, clutching her stomach and whining. I literally had to shake her awake. She took a moment to realize where she was and who I was, but the next thing I knew, she was in my lap,” recalls Jimin. “She didn’t want to talk about it then but wanted the pack meeting to discuss everything with everyone.”

“While this is all and good to know, it doesn’t explain how you ended up sleeping with her,” flatly says Taehyung, who gets a smack to the back of the head by Yoongi. To which he whines, “well, it doesn’t.”

Giggling at the two, Jimin nods, replying, “You're right. When I asked her why she didn’t sleep in the nest when she returned, she answered that it was too perfect to sleep in. So, I carried, not without her complaining of her weight, over to her nest and put her inside.”

“She seemed still tense and expressed how we are so close that she doesn’t want to ruin anything. I explained that she wouldn't ruin anything because she wasn’t a typical playmate but she still didn’t relax in the nest. It worried me, so I… ah… well, I tested the bond,” Jimin says, trailing off. 

Shifting to look at Jimin better, Seokjin questions, “Jimin-ah, what did you do?”

“Please tell me you didn’t push yourself on her?” Hoseok asks darkly.

“No! I…” Jimin scoffs. “I asked her if I could join her in the nest. I even told her she could say no, but she didn’t. She relaxed almost immediately, even while keeping a respectful distance aside from holding her hand.”

“You didn’t look so respectfully distant when I found you together this morning,” pointed out the eldest.

“I will get to that,” Jimin rushes out with blush-tinted cheeks. “I shared a bit about our past with playmates. I figured it would help her not to feel so vulnerable with me so close, and it worked because when I went to leave, she asked me to stay. After a rather cute and telling discussion of sleeping arrangements, she had me sleep between her and the door for protection, under the blanket for warmth, and facing each other, but she didn’t give a reason.”

Tilting his head, Jimin continues, “I think it was mostly because she doesn’t want to over step but after today that may change. Anyway, she warned she moves alot in her sleep and I am pretty sure that is how we ended up so entangled.”

“She smelled interested when I joked about having to tie her down if she became a human tornado, Hobi-hyung,” Jimin says, wiggling his eyebrows.

With that, Hoseok grabs Jimin’s hand to head up to his den to discuss how to enact their part of the plan and check to see if Hoseok even brought his ropes with him on this trip—only pausing long enough to look to Namjoon for permission to leave the pack meeting. 

Taking in the more relaxed scents of his mates, aside from a spike of nerves and arousal from various makes, Namjoon thinks there isn’t much more that can be done right now. Standing, the Prime Alpha says, “Since Y/n left, I believe the pack meeting can conclude. I encourage everyone to reflect on what was discussed, and if you have a suggestion on how to help or have concerns about anything, you can always reach out to me.”

Seokjin heads to the kitchen to keep busy. Baking is one of the ways he can zone out to process things while still feeling like he hasn’t checked out of being a good mate. Some fresh cookies, non-chocolate, sound like a good idea and can be made on autopilot, or maybe making something for lunch would be good.  Opening the fridge, the eldest Alpha decides to make lunch and cookies while he deals with everything from finding Jimin in your bed to the topics of both meetings. 

Yoongi pulls Jungkook into his lap more, and the two cuddle into a ball. The attentive jaguar hybrid praises the youngest Alpha for being brave and sharing his past with their new mate. Jungkook blushes and buries his face into Yoongi’s neck with his little fluff of a cotton tail wiggling happily. It doesn’t take long for the two to fall into a light nap as they bask in each other’s warmth after the emotionally draining morning. 

Taehyung appears to be deep in thought. The influx of information has affected him more than he outwardly shows. His tail twitches out from under the couch in flicks as his thoughts bounce from one fact to another. He knows that hunting down the ex and the abysmal excuse of a family you have isn’t allowed, but that doesn’t stop him from imagining all the ways he could nor what he would do once he has his claws in them.

Namjoon watches Taehyung with concern etched on his face. After taking in his lack of movement and the warmth of his ebony scent, Namjoon doesn’t think the tiger will do anything, so he leaves him be– for now.  Even though Yoongi is focused on their youngest and napping, Namjoon trusts him to wake up and react if Taehyung’s scent changes. The Prime Alpha also trusts the others to help by reining the quick-tempered tiger in or seeking help if anything arises. With a soft sigh, Namjoon decides this might be a good time to discuss a few more personal things with you.

Making his way to your den, the wolf hybrid strains his hearing to try and pick up your heartbeat and breathing since your stressed-out scent is still lingering in the hall. He leans into his instincts as an apex predator and an Alpha to ensure you are, at least physically, in a good spot to take visitors. Unfortunately, it doesn't let him know if you are emotionally or mentally ready for it.

As he listens to your gentle, measured breaths and your calm, rhythmic heartbeats, Namjoon knocks on the door. The rapid footsteps approaching the door make the Alpha question if you had been expecting someone. When the door swings open, Namjoon offers a friendly smile and adopts what he hopes is an open posture to indicate that his visit has a positive purpose.

“Oh, Namjoon, I wasn’t,” you start to say, seemingly caught off guard that he is the one who came. “I mean, is everything okay? I know I kinda rushed out of there. I didn’t even close the pack meeting, I just more or less bolted which isn’t proper of me. I should know better, I mean, I do know better.”

“Y/n, Angel, everything is good. I think the meeting was a good idea and we covered a lot of… deep topics,” He answers, trying to reassure you. “May I enter your den?”

Jumping slightly and scooting out of the way, you gesture for him to enter, saying, “Of course, how rude of me. Sorry. Umm… you may sit where you wish, Alpha.”

“No need to be sorry. I just wanted to have some…” Namjoon’s voice trails off as he walks in and sees your Jimin-built nest on the bed. He can tell that it’s been used, which gives him a sense of pride because you must find their sense comforting and, hopefully, safe. He knew you slept in it, but seeing it hits differently.  Taking a slow, deep breath, he inhales the scents from the nest. The mixture is much richer since adding your sweetpea, almost as if it had been absent the whole time.

You leave the door slightly ajar and turn to face Namjoon. With a tilted head and raised eyebrow, you ask him, "Some?”

His eyes flick between you and the nest before he smiles. Walking to sit on the window bench, he continues his train of thought, “Some time to speak with you again, minus the flashing lights of the red carpet and the other packmates. That is, if it is okay with you?”

“Sure, I will always try to find time for our Prime Alpha,” you answer, missing the flash of forest green eyes at the subtle but unknowing claim you said. As you pull one of the pillows from the window bench to sit on the floor, Namjoon gently tugs on the other end, his eyes slightly narrowed as he gestures to the space beside him. Smiling shyly, you pause mid-squat and sit beside him on the window bench. 

Turning to face you, the Alpha looks at you in a way that makes you feel like he is looking through you. It is a look you have seen from Derek and Evie when they are trying to figure you out without actually asking you. His breathing is steady and deep, which tells you he is trying to catch how your emotions are by your scent. Luckily for you and him, your scent is soft sweetpea with the undertone of vanilla, showing that you are no longer flustered or anxious from the pack meeting.

“How are you feeling? After the pack meeting?” asks the Prime Alpha, his instincts leading him to ensure he understands your scent's basics. “Your scent seems to be almost neutral. I assume my being in your den is why there is a perfumed edge to your natural sweetpea.”

Sitting up straight, you shake your head, arguing, “No! I don’t have a problem with you being in my room… ah den. I mean, you are the Prime Alpha and it is your packhouse that I am in. So, you have every right to be able to come into this space.”

“Actually, no. That isn’t correct,” frowns Namjoon. “I will say this, and Jimin will get more into the depths of it later: your space is your space. At any time, if you want to be left alone or not to allow any of us to be allowed into your den you have that right.”

Holding your hand between his two larger hands, he looks at you with a serious but warm gaze. “This is every bit your packhouse as it is mine, Yoongi-hyungs, or any of us,” he says, stroking his thumb across your hand. “You have a voice as strong as any of us regarding your comfort, well-being, and needs.”

Your eyes widen at his statement and cause you to shift in your spot. Swallowing, you shyly smile and answer, “Umm… I sort of got that impression. I know myself well enough to remind myself this is all a temporary thing, but sometimes, with how you all talk, it’s like… I don’t know, Namjoon. It’s just different.”

He has to bite his tongue and try his hardest not to correct your perception of ‘this thing,’ which is very much not just a thing nor temporary. Namjoon wants to confirm that no shit it’s different because you are their mate. He decided it was best not to get into that issue right now with everything you have heard so far, but he is afraid that you won’t hear it from him in the right way if he told you it to begin with. He already botched this once; he doesn't want to do it again. After a moment, Namjoon redirects the conversation to one of the reasons why he came in. 

“I wanted to thank you for attending the Gala with me last night,” Namjoon says while looking at your still connected hands. “I also wanted to commend you on how well you handled the situation with the carpet. I should have been in better control of myself but, then again, I haven’t ever taken a… a playmate to an event alone before. That was a first for me.”

Your scent fluffs a bit sweeter as you smile at him. “Thank you, Prime Alpha. I had hoped I did the right thing. I didn’t realize how much my scent would affect you, or I would have tried to keep it calm or turn it off, not that I know how to do that,” you say with your smile faltering. “That was a first for me too, the LACMA Gala and the Alphaing out thing. I am just glad that Jennie-ssi and Jung Jae-ssi were there to show me where to go.”

The memory of Namjoon's koalaing to your back causes you to giggle, which makes said Alpha look at you with a raised eyebrow, and you can’t help but laugh more. “You, ah, got very clingy. You reminded me more of a Koala hybrid than a Wolf hybrid then,” you smile. “It was cute and calming.”

A faint blush colors Namjoon’s face as he pulls his hands out from holding yours. You, however, reach out and hold his hands in yours instead. His eyes are looking at you with a hint of shock and curiosity.

“Namjoon, Prime Alpha,” you start with a soft expression, hoping your scent conveys your sincerity. “I know we started on the wrong foot. Not just you and I, but the whole pack and I. How I became your playmate wasn’t ideal, but it was what you thought was best for your packmates at the time.”

Namjoon goes to jump in, only to have you cut him off and continue by saying, “I know Hoseok thinks you need to grovel and beg me for forgiveness, kinda like how Taehyung is doing, but as the Luna of my family pack, I understand why you did what you did, more or less.”

“No, Y/n,” quietly says Namjoon with a slightly pained look. “It was wrong of me. Utterly wrong of me.”

Now it was your turn to be cut off from trying to excuse him out of feeling guilty when Namjoon stood up and walked away. Without turning back to you, he says, “There is so much… I mean, there are things your family has taught you about hybrids that are a bit awry. I am sure that your family pack has tried to help teach you more things but then again, it’s hard to change something that someone has lived with their whole life.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, shifting in your seat. “I know about hybrid stuff. I don’t know about Alpha-specific things, but I can see if I can take a class for that. I am sure PMS will pay for it.”

Shaking his head, Namjoon turns to face you. He looked to the ceiling and ran his hand through his hair, stopping to scratch the back of his wolf ear before he answered, “You have a pack full of Alphas that are more than happy to teach you more accurately than any class will. Jimin-ah said he would enjoy teaching you the hybrid way of nests and boundaries. Hoseok has some ideas about other things, and I am sure the rest of us will find our things to show and teach you.”

“We,” Namjoon pauses, mumbling something about why words do not seem to work well around you before he looks at you and continues, “We don’t want to push you too far too fast, and I am worried we might. Please remember that you always have the right to stop anything we do. If any of us make you uncomfortable, please don’t hesitate to come to me, and if it’s me, you can talk with one of the hyungs, okay?”

You look at the floor with scrunched brows. “Why is that a recurring thing with you?” you ask, looking up at him with a very concerned look. “Every time we talk about something or do something, someone brings up that I can stop things and say no. Are you trying to make sure I know or are you all trying to remind yourselves that I can?”

Your accusatory tone and the point of your question take back Namjoon. It makes him pause and stare at you as your scent turns more into its perfumed side, meaning he has done nothing towards settling things with you and only makes you worry more. Rubbing his hand down his face, he lets out a low growl of frustration at himself.

Knock Knock

Namjoon spins around to your door, his growl deepening at the interruption before he sees Seokjin standing there. With a huff, Namjoon stops growling, and his shoulders sag at seeing the eldest mate. 

“I just wanted to let you know that lunch is ready,” Seokjin says with narrowed eyes and a slightly turned head as he takes in Namjoon’s reaction to a simple knock on the door. Looking past his Prime Alpha, he takes in your stiff posture, instinctively making him take a deeper breath. 

Namjoon’s leather smells like it has been left under the sun for too long, and it mixes with your perfumed sweetpea, but there remains the hint of the vanilla mate scent. Shaking his head, Seokjin steps inside your den to stand beside the wolf hybrid, who follows his movements with a pleading look. 

Putting his arms around Namjoon, Seokjin looks at you with a soft smile. “I take it the pack meeting didn’t stop in the living room?” he asks.

You roll your eyes in an almost agreeing movement, turning your head away from the two. Namjoon just lets out a soft whine and leans into the elder mate. “I see,” says Seokjin. “Well, there have been a lot of deep discussions and apparently unanswered questions or mixed feelings remain.”

“You got that right,” you mumble under your breath. Both hybrids hear it. Namjoon looks at Seokjin with wide eyes. His scent turns more into a burnt version. 

With a sigh, Seokjin maneuvers Namjoon to start heading out the door, instructing, “Joonie-ah, go and gather the pack for lunch. I am sure our muscle bunny has probably already started, but get the rest to settle in. Y/n and I will join in a few, but don’t wait.”

Opening his mouth to object, wanting to help resolve what he assumes is another fuck up on his part. Seokjin raises his eyebrow and holds up a finger, causing the Prime Alpha to close his mouth and quickly walk out of the room. His actions pull an amused hum from you, bringing the eldest hybrid’s attention back to you. 

Looking up, you look back down quickly, saying, “Sorry. Never thought I would see a Prime Alpha back down and leave without a word like that.”

“Oh,” giggles Seokjin with a wave of his hand. “Namjoon is the Prime Alpha but every once in a while he needs his Hyung to get him to listen. He really is a lap puppy under all that tough, leader persona.”

Noting that your scent hasn’t changed much, even with Namjoon leaving, Seokjin asks, “Are you alright, Y/n?”

Looking back at the eldest hybrid, you think for a moment. Are you okay? Technically, yes, you are, but you are also full of questions that keep zipping around while feeling lost but not at the same time. A tap on your forehead causes you to blink your eyes and quickly lean back when you see Seokjin just inches from your face. 

“I lost you for a bit,” comments Seokjin. “Are you hungry or do you think you can wait for a bit?”

“Umm, well, I am not starving,” you answer. “Why?”

“Good, come with me,” Seokjin said, grabbing your hand, pulling you to your feet and out the door. In a booming voice, he yells, “Jungkook, Yoongi! Nesting room, now!”

Hissing at him, you say, “Jin! They are eating, what are you doing?”

“Just be a good girl and come with me,” he smirks. The sound of chairs scraping and shouts of agreement come, but your brain is shorting out on two simple words– good girl.

You have been called many things before in your lifetime, but a good girl has never been one of them, at least not that you can remember. The tingles that it gave your brain decided to trickle down your back like a teasing caress, and that was something you weren’t expecting. Then again, after only being around these men for about a week now, you should be used to the unexpected. The question you will have to unpack later is, was it the name ‘good girl,’ was it how Seokjin said it, or was it because Seokjin said it that caused that reaction?

For Jin, your scent doesn’t give away your internal reaction to those words as much as your sudden lack of resistance does. Glancing over his shoulder as he leads you down the hall to the nesting room, he can see your eyes have fallen to your feet while your cheeks have become rosie.

Inside the nesting room, Seokjin sits you on the edge of the nest and kneels at your feet. After looking at your soles, he shakes his head, grabs a wet wipe from one of the drawers, and starts wiping off what you think might be grass and dirt from your walk outside this morning. Seokjin was muttering something about dirty feet and Taehyung having a heart attack if he knew as he cleaned you up.

While he is doing that, Yoongi walks in, followed by Jungkook, who is still holding a sandwich. Both seem to pause for a second before the perfumed sweetpea hits them. With a shared look, Jungkook quickly scarfed down the sandwich and ran to the kitchen to get everyone bottled water and the mango package they had the staff bring just for you. 

Without a word, Yoongi moved into the nest and rearranged the pillows and blankets. After smelling the hint of leather and the state of your scent, his goal was to lessen Namjoon’s presence in the nest while still keeping it there enough that you would start to associate it as something safe. Pulling Jimin’s, Taehyung’s, and Hoseok’s scents towards the middle, hoping to give you a subconscious signal that your mates are with you right now. 

You watched everything happening with a soft smile. It didn’t take much to recognize that they would try and use contact comfort to help you collect your thoughts or at least slow them down. Evie’s family would do this with you often, as contact comfort was one of the most helpful in settling the scents of packmates. The idea that their wordless agreements and understanding of the situation were so in sync when it came to something like this with you made your heart warm and your scent to fluff with vanilla and a hint of pear. 

Once Jungkook was back, your feet were cleaned, and the nest was remade. Yoongi curled up to the far back of the nest while Jungkook and Seokjin stood outside in front of you. 

Putting down his snacks, Jungkook looked at you with concern, asking, “Sweets, is everything okay? Your scent is kind of confusing.” He takes a deeper breath before continuing, “It’s like, you are not rejecting what happened, but worrying about it? Yet there is something else but I don’t know what it means.”

Before you can answer, Seokjin answers, “She and Joonie had a talk in her den. I think our handsome mate still hasn’t learned how to speak without putting his paw in his mouth around a certain lovely lady.”

Yoongi grumbles from behind you before he reaches out with a hand on your shoulder and gently pulls you back into the nest. “Namjoon-ah needs to stop trying to fix things without talking to one of us,” comments the jaguar. 

“There really wasn’t anything to fix, though,” you retorted as you scooted back and centered yourself in the nest. “I told him I understood why he made me your playmate and that he was just looking out for you guys, and you could have sworn I told him that I didn’t think hybrids existed.”

“Then, when he told me about the plan to have you lot teach me the ropes about Alphas and I guess what it means to be a hybrid, he reminded me yet again that I can say no,” You huff pulling off his bathroom, which is trying to strangle you as it catches on the nesting materials. “I mean, how many times does he or any of you need to say it? Like, I got it. No means no; it always has.”

“Dear, Namjoon was only trying to ensure or reinforce that boundaries aren’t a problem,” Seokjin reiterates, to which you huff and throw the robe out of the nest. All three hybrids pause, watching as if throwing it aside signifies something more important than merely removing it and stopping it from being in the way. 

“Oh yeah, reinforce for who? I asked him,” You start to sass. “If the reminders were actually for me or him.” That garners a low, skin-tingling growl from Yoongi; meanwhile, Seokjin and Jungkook look like you just said something unexpected. 

“Princess,” growls Yoongi. “We. Are. Alphas. We are not like those trashy, self-indulgent, egotistical, unethical humans who hold the unfortunate claim to being male because they possess the right chromosomes.”

Shifting you further onto your back and leaning over you so that he is inches from your face, upside down, Yoongi continues, “But that is all they are– male. They are not men; they will never be considered an Alpha. It would be wise for you to remember that you are surrounded by Alpha men. Understood, Princess?”

Internally, you are yelling at yourself for the rush of arousal that floods your system at his nonpermissive tone of voice and darkened expression. Your scent flaring with sweetness as your vanilla mate scent thickens like a syrup, signaling the two less dominant mates in the room know that they can relax.  

You start to nod and pause when Yoongi’s eyes narrow slightly at your moments. Swallowing and licking your lip, you softly say, “Yes, Alpha.”

A smile softens his face at your reply. Slowly, Yoongi leans down, kisses your forehead softly, and mutters, “Good girl, Princess.”

There you go again, a tingle down your spine at the use of ‘good girl.’ Guess you now have your answer to the question. Apparently, the term caused a reaction because it has now happened to both Seokjin and Yoongi. God, you are gonna need to learn how to stop acting like a hormone-driven teenager around these “Alpha Men,” or you are gonna lose your job. Seriously, how do playmates do this day in and day out?

“Maybe they are just used to it? Not all of them can resist having some kind of attraction, or the partner rut contracts wouldn’t be a thing,” answers Jungkook, his ears standing tall and listening intently to everything.

You snap your head up, almost hitting Yoongi, and as you look at Jungkook with wide eyes, you ask, “Did… how much did I say out loud?”

Tilting his head, causing one ear to fold in half, with slight confusion, he slowly says, “How do playmates do this… day in and out? Did you not want an answer?”

You giggle softly and try to play it off, “I guess, I did. I just didn’t think I said it loud enough for you… umm… to hear.”

Jungkook smiles, happy to have answered your question with his exceptional hearing skills. “I can hear hushed things. It’s all part of being a prey hybrid. As a rabbit, I can hear something up to two miles away, but typically, the sound has to be in a higher pitch.”

You nod and lay back down, glancing up at Yoongi as he lies along the wall before looking at Seokjin. Seokjin and Yoongi snicker at your attempt but say nothing. 

Kneeling in the nest, Seokjin taps your leg, saying, “In your den, it seemed to me that you just need a moment to exist. Based on your actions, I also noticed that Yoongi and Kookie are your safe packmates in Bangtan.”

“I was thinking, you can take some time to lay in a proper nest with your two protectors and either relax, ask questions, explore your dynamic with them. Whatever you need right now,” offers Seokjin. “I will be here as well just to help facilitate, in case one of their Alphas front.”

“Oh, umm… Like a grounding session?” you ask to clarify. 

Seokjin smiles, agreeing, “Yes, a grounding session. Typically, as hybrids, we also scent the packmate that is the focus of the grounding session but that is entirely up to you.”

Jungkook inquisitively approaches the nest, asking, “Is it okay for me to come in? Can I lay at your back? Please?” His eyes look more like a doe than a bunny, which causes you to smile and nod because how could you deny such a simple request?

Excitedly, Jungkook hops into the nest and quickly gets in his spot behind you as you lean on your side, giving him space. While you spot Yoongi moving to take his place in front of you, you don’t notice Jungkook taking off his shirt. When Yoongi leans into your chest like a big kitten, nuzzling along the collarbones that peek out from your tank top sleepwear, you feel warm skin against your shoulders. You try to move away, but the weight of Yoongi on your chest and Jungkook’s arm wrapping around your waist stops you. 

Both of your protectors know they are pushing their actions a bit, but after the pack meeting, they are hopeful they can. At this point, all three hybrids can smell the spike perfume as they settle around you, but they wait to see what you will do. It takes only seconds for that perfume to dissipate and become more like the floral notes of jasmine. 

Yoongi instinctively purrs at the happy scent of you as it surrounds him, mixing with Jungkook’s snickerdoodle and hints of the pack from the nest. Jungkook’s cotton tail wiggles at the change in your scent—the feeling of finally having you in his arms where you belong adds to his elation. 

Seokjin, on the other hand, breathes a sigh of relief that you subconsciously or instinctively decided to accept their bolder moves. Not only is your personal scent showing your acceptance of their contact comfort, but the mate scent remains consistent and syrupy. Show each of them that your bond with the bunny and the jaguar has, in fact, grown. 

However, experiencing intimate contact with Jungkook can be slightly intimidating, especially with the entire pack home and two in the same room. It is unexpectedly reassuring once you take a moment to stop to remember the discussion from the pack meeting and then start feeling. The warmth of Jungkook’s body melding with your back is more pleasant than expected. The presence of a hybrid-sized heated weighted blanket, which Yoongi has become soothing, allows your mind to divert from the racing thoughts. 

Relaxing into their hold, you adjust to lean more against Jungkook, who happily accepts by pulling you closer at the waist. Your arm drapes over Yoongi and rests below his neck, between his shoulder blades. With a small break in his purring, Yoongi scoots closer since you moved away from him, causing your hand to slide up his neck and into the base of his hair. His furry ears twitch and almost flutter at the feeling as his purring increases. 

Taking that as a good sign, you slowly scratch at his scalp almost absentmindedly as you breathe in the spring rain of Yoongi’s petrichor and Jungkook’s sweet but spiced snickerdoodle. Your mind slowly becomes a buzz of peace and calmness you haven’t experienced in a long time. It’s not long till your soft snores are heard over Yoongi’s purring.

Seokjin finds his way around, where he knows his bonded mates can see him and catch their attention. Much to Seokjin’s prediction, he has the attention of a golden-yellow-eyed Alpha and a smokey grey-eyed Alpha. His tender and proud smile blooms at the younger Alpha’s comforting, caring, and protecting their ladymate. 

“Alpha Yoon, Alpha Kook,” Seokjin greets. “I will step out and let the pack know our Ladymate is being cared for and not to worry or bother the three of you. I will be in and out to check on you guys.”

Alpha Kook nods and pulls you closer to himself, wanting you to stay comfortable and warm. Alpha Yoon, however, looks at Seokjin like he wants to say something as his eyes narrow at the older bonded mate. 

“Yes, Alpha Yoon?” asks Seokjin, attempting to prompt him into speaking his mind. 

With a broken purr, Alpha Yoon demands, “Bring Tae. Must serve mate. Keep warm. Stay close.”

Seokjin’s eyes light with understanding. “That’s right, Alpha Yoon. Taehyung is in service to Y/n right now,” affirms Seokjin. “I will send him in next, but I will ensure he knows you two are in charge of this right now.”

After Alpha Yoon thinks about what Seokjin said, he nods and snuggles closer, prompting Seokjin to stand quietly and leave the nest in search of the pack—specifically, a tiger to send in and a wolf to have a serious discussion with. 

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[sun-kissy]

my lovely san, again congratulations on 1k<333 im so proud of you and excited to keep cheering you on!

for your sweet celebration i would like to request a seashell 🐚 with remus lupin and the domestic prompt ⁶⁷⁾ a loose thread on a sweater 💌

hope you enjoy working through your requests darling <3 big hugs xx

thank you for the request my darling carina <33 bigger hugs to you!!

a loose thread on a sweater + remus lupin

꩜ remus lupin x reader

꩜ summary: remus takes care of you when you’re sick

The feeling of gentle rubbing, skin-on-skin on your lower back, rouses you. You groan and roll over onto your back.

You rub your eyes and blink. Remus, frowning down at you — not at you, but for you. “Rem.”

“Hi, lovely,” he murmurs, a touch of concern in his love-coated voice. He moves his palm over to your stomach, pinky finger gliding over your hip. “How do you feel?”

You shrug. You still feel awful, really, but you don’t want to make a big deal out of nothing. Remus is a worrier as it is, even more when it comes to you. “Okay.”

You’d woken up earlier sore all over, sick for no apparent reason and with no real symptoms. Your worrywart of a boyfriend was the cause of both of you having to skip work that day.

You think you could handle yourself just fine — but you would never admit that it really was nice to be taken care of, especially by someone like Remus; so wholehearted in his care and even more in his love.

“Liar.” Remus presses the back of his palm to your forehead, wincing. “You’re burning up, dove. Does your head hurt?” He stands up, and you hear him shuffle around before turning the bathroom lights on.

“No,” you lie weakly.

“What?”

“Um, yes,” you mumble louder. It’s like you can hear his smile.

Remus returns with a small pail and cloth. He lays one of his sweaters over your body; encourages your head up with gentle fingers on your neck. He offers his lap as a pillow.

“Close your eyes.”

You pout, straining your neck to look up at him. “But I just woke up.”

He taps your eyelids warningly, and you swear there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips. “Water’s gonna drip into your eyes if you don’t.”

“Fine. Let it.”

Remus grins, bending down to press a kiss to your nose. “Okay, then, you stubborn little thing. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He lays the wet cloth on your forehead, brushing stray strands of hair out of the way. Beads of water roll down your skin, sting your eyes before continuing their descent. You try not to flinch.

Your boyfriend chuckles, but he doesn’t get much meaner than that. He wipes the cold water from your lashes with the pad of his thumb, presses his lips to your hairline and lets them stay there for a while.

You smile, fiddling with the loose threads of his sweater as he works. He alternates between the cloth and the back of his palm to your warm skin. “Rem?”

“Hm?”

“I’m really okay, y’know. You didn’t have to skip work to take care of me.”

Remus fixes you with a deadpan look. “You’re still on about this, really?” You feel his fingers on your scalp, gentle ministrations working you through your headache. The water is cool where it touches your temple, his fingers warmer where they wipe stray droplets away. He sighs.

“Give up, sweetheart. You’re sick,” he murmurs, softening. “And that’s okay, you’re okay. You’ll get better soon.”

“But I could have taken care of myself,” you mumble.

“Yes, you could’ve,” he agrees kindly, one hand sliding down to hold your chin in place as he presses the knuckles of the other into your scalp, “But I would much rather do it for you. I like taking care of you, lovely. It’s not a burden, or an obligation, or whatever else you seem to think it is. It’s an indulgence.”

You blink, hiding your growing softness behind humour. “Taking care of me is an indulgence?”

“Well, yes.”

“Get a life.”

Remus huffs out a laugh, patting your cheek teasingly. “You’re the most interesting thing in my life, actually — which says a lot, considering how boring you are.”

“Hey!”

san’s 1k ocean odyssey

[moeblob]

[deviousdiesel]

.

[bmpmp3]

speaking of genbu's "serious" sounding tone in his voicebank, i think that might be why he was such a dead ringer for teto pre-synthv-bank-release with just a couple little gender parameter tweaks. wait do my followers know this. sorry i know most of my vocal synthesizer talk is genuinely gibberish to my beloved and loyal long time followers but do you guys know this. for a few years, people had discovered that since utau teto and genbu have this similar strong enunciation and dark sounding tone plus teto can have a bit of a tomboyish edge to her voice anyway -> if u mess with some parameters and phonemes he'll sound close enough to her, so it became a bit of running gag in the community, along with just being a genuine and novel use case for his voicebank. actually recently i found out about someone who made a couple of synthv scripts to set genbus voice to his falsetto pitch and set the tension to drop during each syllable automatically to make him sound like the utau sora amaha. genbu's purpose is to impersonate other vocal synthesizers

[depresseddepot]

my favorite ear buds broke and I just spent three feverish hours searching the corners of the internet to find them again

[joshuamj]

can college just like, pause for a moment. I wanna catch up on linktober :(

[webism]

pornstar!shiu who started out as your agent. he’d book your gigs, stand and watch with cigarette in hand as you were fucked on film for a fat check that he’d take a cut of.

pornstar!shiu who would take you out for celebratory drinks after landing larger acts—be it a shoot for a dirty magazine or a collaboration with the current biggest name in adult film. shiu is good at getting you in—and he doesn’t much mind watching your artwork either.

pornstar!shiu who helps you set up a secondary source of income: an onlyfans. he helps you garner an audience, set your prices and start looking for guest stars. he lines a few up, lets you pick from them and even pours them a drink when they come over to film. shiu lets you have privacy with these shoots, but insists on staying in the house just in case anything goes sideways: they never do, though. most of the guys you film with are put off by the look shiu gives them when they first walk in. mean.

pornstar!shiu who slowly starts to get sick of accommodating the men you film with. it's just work, sure, but he doesn't get jealous like this of the girls that his other client Toji works with. he doesn't watch their videos back on repeat to make sure their hands don't wander where they aren't welcome. he doesn't fuck his fist at night thinking about him. it's just a you thing.

pornstar!shiu who gets an email one day from a well known pornstars agent practically begging to hitch up a collab between you and him. satoru gojo is a name shiu has heard plenty times before, be it through the business side of being your agent or through his computer speaker when he's edging himself to mindless porn in the dead of night. he knows he fucks good, seen it first hand.

pornstar!shiu who knows you're excited for this shoot, to finally get to try out the guy known for giving real orgasms in hopes of a more raw shoot. shiu almost feels bad when he tells you, twenty minutes before your shoot, that gojo can't make it. that he's sick with something nasty and you'll have to reschedule if his calendar opens up for you.

pornstar!shiu who listens to you whine about how you promised your online audience something good tonight. nods as you beg for him to find someone else on such short notice. he pretends to scroll through his phone and send a few texts as you stress your pretty mind over leaving your followers hanging. shiu can't help but smile at your desperate pout when he tells you that no one can make it on such short notice... but that he does have another idea, albeit an unconventional one.

pornstar!shiu who, within twenty minutes, has your face pressed into your pillows and his hand forcing your arch so he can fuck you just that little bit deeper. the moans you let out, even though they're muffled by your satin pillow, are nothing short of pornographic. it's fitting, and pulls a smile onto shiu's face because he's hearing better moans from you than he thinks gojo could ever pull. and god you feel better than he'd ever imagined: he wonders how he'll ever lay down for another person again know that he's felt you wrapped around his cock.

pornstar!shiu who insists it's just a favour: just work. he's given you five orgasms and a dirty movie to show for it too. you two fuck for an hour and he showers at your place before helping you edit and post it over dinner. it's casual, nothing awkward, but when the comments start rolling in about this new man that makes you cum like none other has, you swear he blushes.

pornstar!shiu who quickly becomes a regular on your page. goes from being your agent to somewhat of a partner in film. over the course of a few weeks, you have more money than you know what to do with: people keep subscribing to watch you cum on his cock in the mindless way it seems only he can pull from you. your library grows daily, with videos of him fucking you on the kitchen counter, whipped cream eaten straight from your chest, to videos from his perspective as he takes drags of a cigarette while you get your fix from your lips wrapped around his thick cock. he's somewhat of a pornstar himself now.

pornstar!shiu who, for someone who insisted this was just work, gets into the habit of kissing you through your orgasms. or conveniently forgetting to press record so that your marathon sex session on his couch stays for his eyes only. or starts leaving things at your house on the off chance to have someone else over to film with, so they'll see his hair gel or large shoes by the front door and realise you're spoken for, even if he doesn't have the right to speak for you.

pornstar!shiu who's asleep in your bed one night, his cock still nestled deep inside of you after making love to you for the first time. you're littered with lovebites and your mind is hazy with feelings you never thought you'd have for your agent of all people. the night is dark, and as you're cockwarming the man who is much more than just a co-star to you, your phone dings. he stirs, and you check it to find a message from Satoru Gojo, who is asking after you. he says he's upset you didn't get to film together the other week but he hopes you're feeling better. your sickness seemed pretty nasty, from what your agent said when he cancelled on your behalf.

what a shame!

[your-internet-bf]

We hadn't always gotten along. When our parents got married, we could barely stand each other. How could we get along with some brat we barely knew? Luckily, I had an idea. I bought a clicker - you know, the one they use to train dogs? - and got to work.

I started with "thank you". Every time you said it, maybe at dinner, in the car, at a restaurant, I pressed the clicker. You couldn't tell where the sound was coming from, and nobody else seemed to know what you were talking about. But soon, I started helping you with chores around the house and when we finished, *click*. And without really thinking about it, you'd say "thank you."

A few months passed, and you'd started to notice things about me. I took care of myself. I was clean, and I exercised regularly. You'd hang around when you knew I'd be back from the gym just to catch a whiff of the sweat and metal on me when I returned - our eyes caught once when you got a little too close, and for the first time you saw something primal, a little dark, in my gaze. But it passed in an instant.

We started getting along better, now. So one day, when you were lying on the couch with a snack bowl, I snatched it up and motioned to throw it into your mouth. Well, innocent enough, right? And it wasn't like I was eating much, so it's fine, right? Every time you open your mouth to catch, *click*, *click*, *click*.

Then, I invited you to come work out with me. Every time you did a squat, *click*. I told you it was a metronome to keep your intensity up, but you noticed the bulge in my sweatpants was bigger than usual. Wait, when did you start noticing my bulge, especially enough to know that...?

Finally, it was time. I'd been listening outside your bedroom door for weeks now, and I knew when you'd be asleep. I quietly opened your door and stepped into your room, locking it behind me. You stirred at the sound of the lock clicking, but I wasn't afraid.

I gingerly pulled down the covers and just... stared for a while. I'd never taken the time to really look at how beautiful you are, how gorgeous those curves were. I could hardly stand it. As you lay on your side, I took out the clicker, and *click* it once. Laying on your side, like you were on the couch with the snacks, you obediently open your mouth.

I pull down my pants, my long, thick cock swinging between my thighs. I brush the back of my hand over your cheek, then set it firmly against the back of your head, and push into your mouth.

You wake up almost immediately, but my hand stops you from pulling back as I force inch after throbbing inch down your throat. The more you struggle, the tighter you feel, the harder I push, until you felt your nose press into my hips. You push as hard as you can against me, but I'm so much bigger and stronger than you it doesn't do anything. I don't even budge.

I start to grind into your skull, making you swallow the thick, heavy head of my cock again and again, as I groan in pleasure. I start thrusting harder and harder, making your eyes water as I slam my hips into your face again and again, until finally, mercifully, I release inside you, deep inside your throat. You feel me pulse with your whole mouth, and you struggle to swallow each load of thick, hot, sticky cum while I'm still inside you.

With a shuddering breath, I pull out, letting you breathe properly for the first time in minutes. I watch while you cough and catch your breath, and then I ask, "what do you say?"

You breathe in intending to scream, but then you hear it, just one soft *click*, and all you can say is "thank you".

You stare at me, confused. I wipe my cum off your chin with my thumb, and *click* again. "Thank you", you say.

"I knew it. You're such a good girl, aren't you? Now," I push you onto your back, "spread for me."

*click*

You raise your legs to either side, exactly like you're doing a squat.

"I don't - I don't understand," you whimper, legs still in the air.

"You don't have to," I reply, reaching one hand between your legs to feel how wet you are.

"You're soaking, little girl," as I bring my hand up for you to see... Then make you taste it. I reach back down and slip in two of my thick, strong fingers, and cover your mouth with my other hand as you moan. I press up in just the right spot, rubbing in tight, quick circles so deliciously that you can't help but arch your back and grind into me. You feel the pleasure build and all thought leaves your mind; the only thing that matters is my fingers inside you, the scent of my hand over your mouth, and the lingering taste of me.

But before you can finish I pull my fingers out, pressing up and out, leaving you twitching and gasping. "Not yet," I mutter, and I move myself down between your legs. I line up my cock, slapping it down on your tummy first. It reaches your navel, and you feel a wave of fear that only makes you wetter. I pull back, then start pushing in.

It's thick, thick, thick, and heavy. I stretch you out wider than you thought possible, pressuring you in every direction, spreading your aching cunt and making you feel full inside for the first time in your life. Long, deep strokes, moving your whole body with every thrust, reaching inside you, my breath coming fast and hard.

And you hear it again.

*click*

"Thank you," you choke out between sobs.

*click*

"Thank you," you moan.

*click*

"Thank you," you plead, tears in your eyes.

My strokes come faster now, slamming inside you like an animal as you continue to thank me for raping you. Finally, finally, finally, you feel me tense up and slam deep, deep, deep inside you, pressing your whole body into the bed, as I cum again. Huge, hot, sticky white loads of my cum shoot inside you, filling you, as my breath comes in gasps, and as I do you feel it too, now, the wave of pleasure cresting, and you cum, your legs squeezing together, your face screwed tight, moaning with the release of months of tension. And as you cum, you hear a new sound, a familiar sound, but it's deeper than the others...

*click*

And you cum harder, knowing I'm training you like a bitch in heat.

I climb up next to you, and just gaze into your eyes for a moment. Then I smile. "Let's go again."

*click*

[navybrat817]

Mr. and Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky suggests sneaking off at the gala. How can you resist?

Word Count: Over 3k

Warnings: Unprotected v. sex, sex in a closet, dirty talk, possessiveness, established relationship, slight insecurities, mention of breeding, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's a simp for you (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I just really wanted this. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his discontent as he looked around at the ballroom. Was it a gala? Fundraiser? What cared? He hated functions like these. People were either there to kiss ass and move up the chain of command or gloat about how well off they were in life under the guise that they were doing good for others. He didn't attempt to converse with any of them, but still had to go as a way to support SHIELD in some capacity and show that he was no longer the Winter Soldier.

At least Steve and Sam were excused from the event due to a mission.

Leaning against one of the pillars and tugging at his bowtie, he spaced out momentarily. No one looked his way, but he still felt judged. Like he didn’t just belong at the event, but amongst anyone. He wanted to go home, get out of his tuxedo, and get the product out of his slicked back hair. He debated sneaking away from some air until he blinked and saw the reason he was truly there: you, the only real person in the crowd of liars and cheaters.

He never understood the expression of clothes clinging to someone like a second skin until you stepped into your floor-length black dress earlier this evening, the fabric enhancing every beautiful curve of your body. His eyes narrowed as you moved around the room and exchanged smiles and handshakes with people. Your aura drew people to you, men brushing against you and their stares lingering for far too long. It served as another reminder of why he didn’t want to go tonight, especially when a General gripped your arm.

If he had a glass in his hand it would’ve shattered.

Convincing you to stay in bed didn't work since you both had to make an appearance, but it didn't mean he wanted you apart from him. “Get over here,” he whispered, craving your attention, needing you close.

As if you sensed him seeking you out, likely feeling the weight of his stare, you turned to meet his gaze across the room. Your eyes sparkled with love that he never thought he’d receive in his lifetime. The kind of love he never wanted to be without again. “Would you please excuse me?” You asked loud enough for him to catch as you removed your arm from the man’s grip. “My husband is waiting for me.”

Your hips swayed as you worked your way toward Bucky, not stopping for any other man who tried to catch your eye. Hearing you call him your husband brought the first smile to his face since he arrived. He still couldn’t believe some days that you wanted forever with him. “I was wondering when my beautiful wife would remember I was here,” he said once you were close enough, reaching out for your hand.

The moment you took it, he stood tall and pulled you against him. He was certain no one else came close to the intimidating vibe he put out, his hold on you possessive as you smiled. “As if I could forget. Practically heard you growling when General Rando touched my arm,” you teased.

“Because he has no right to touch you,” he said, your lashes fluttering as you spun away. His hands guided you back to him. “I know you’re better with people than I am, which is why you’re the one who has to socialize and I’m sorry for that. But you also said I’m not allowed to break any fingers tonight and I won't be held responsible if he tries to touch you again.”

He swore he didn’t have a possessive bone in his body until you sauntered into his life, giving him hopes and dreams and longing.

You laughed at him, a seductive sound that had a few heads turning. “You do know I can break his fingers myself, right?”

He chuckled, leaning close to your ear and tickling your skin with his breath. “I know you're more than capable of kicking his ass. One of your many wonderful qualities,” he whispered. People underestimated you and that was always a mistake. “But I still don't like that he touched you like he wanted to own you.”

You rang a finger along his bowtie. “We all know who owns me and we know I own you, too,” you said, holding up your hand to show him your wedding ring. He tried to ignore how fast his heart pounded at the sight of his ring on your finger, the pledge you two made together. “In a very healthy, non-toxic sort of way, of course.”

He smirked, glancing around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Of course, but maybe we could give everyone a friendly reminder that we’re a happily married and loyal couple.” His voice dropped lower, teasingly. He wanted to make your heart race like his. “Or maybe we could sneak away for a bit. Make this night a little more interesting.”

“Sneak away?” You feigned innocence as you blinked at him. He was certain any innocence you had before he met you was gone thanks to him. “Whatever for?”

“You know what for. It’ll be like that expo we went to a few months ago.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, studying your face closely. He easily picked up your sharp inhale, the way your pupils dilated and lips parted. It was clear that sneaking off was something that very much interested you. “C’mon, baby. This gala is boring and neither of us want to be here. My idea is much more fun. You know it is.”

He touched your cheek, your skin warm under his hand. He wasn’t able to keep you in bed earlier like he wanted, but the thought of pulling you away and having you right here and now had his stomach fluttering with excitement. “This gala is boring,” you agreed carefully.

“Then let’s make it exciting.” His thumb brushed across your lips and it took everything in him not to push his thumb inside. “You made me come to this thing. Don’t I deserve something for showing up and behaving?”

“I haven't made you come yet.” His muscles went taut when you briefly sucked the digit into your mouth, electricity crackling under his skin. He admired your boldness, how you were unashamedly yourself in front of these people. You didn't and would never care what they thought. “And I didn't make you come to this event, but I can make it worth your while.”

He held your chin and moved close until only an inch separated your faces. Your eyes gleamed with a hunger that rivaled his. The air crackled between you, daring you both to give over to your obvious desires. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?” He rasped when you suddenly pulled back and helped move him across the floor in a dance.

“My plan? I thought sneaking away was your idea,” you smiled, guiding you both closer to the open doorway. “But if we can find a closet or dark corner, you can do whatever you want with me. And I’ll even let you fuck my throat first thing tomorrow morning for behaving.”

A rumbling, deep groan escaped his throat. His fingers dug in possessively when he gripped the nape of your neck and tilted your head so he could taste your skin. Your body molding against his, soft and yielding against his solid frame, wasn’t enough. There were too many clothes in the way and he wanted to bury himself deep inside you.

“You drive me crazy, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“The feeling is mutual, Mr. Barnes.” You bit your lip once he waltzed you for enough away from prying eyes, the heat flaring between you. “I need you.”

Every nerve ending came to life when he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged past your lips, holding you steady as he devoured you. You melted against him, which only brought forth his primal hunger more. His intensity never scared you and he would be forever thankful for that.

You gasped as your back hit a wall, the sounds of chatter and music from the ballroom muffled. Your nails scraped the fabric of his jacket, both of you lost in sensations of lust and desire. As one of your hands continued its journey to his shoulder, the other wandered down his torso and didn’t stop until you gripped his thick erection through his pants.

He abruptly broke the kiss when you gave him a squeeze, his eyes wild. “Fuck,” he breathed, gripping your wrist and pushing more firmly against your hand. “You feel that? That’s what you do to me.”

With dizzying speed, he spun you so that your back pressed against his front. You panted as his hand ventured through the slit of your dress and brushed along your trembling thigh. “Wait until you feel how wet I am,” you whispered, grinding your hips back against his.

His mouth brushed the exposed column of your throat, alternating between small bites and open mouthed kisses. “Still get wet for me?” He asked, massaging your breast with his vibranium hand and drawing another gasp from you when he pinched your nipple. He marveled at how much he could feel with that hand and how he’d never harm you with it.

“Have you seen yourself? One look from you and I’m soaked.” Your back arched as he bit down again. He wished he saw himself the way you did. “And you’re my husband. That craving for you isn’t going away.”

He rocked his hips against yours, seeking out more contact and friction as his cock throbbed and heart swelled. Marriage wasn’t a constant honeymoon phase. It took work. Effort. Compromise. But you were worth every moment, every struggle, every up and down.

Laughter from a few feet away had him lifting his head, both of you looking toward where the noise was coming from. “Fuck,” he snarled, wanting to scream at whoever it was to go the fuck away.

“There’s a closet around the corner. We just need to pick the lock,” you told him, smiling over your shoulder. “I may have scoped out the place in case this happened.”

He chuckled, utterly in awe of you. “I fucking love you,” he exhaled.

Walking with an aching hard-on wasn’t easy, but he managed to get you both further away from the ballroom. He picked the lock with record speed once you got to the door and moved you both inside. He flipped on the light, wanting to see as much of you as he could. For a moment, you two stared at each other and waited for the other to make a move. He loved the anticipation.

“I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Barnes,” you said, reaching for the doorknob to lock it. He was about to ask what he possibly did to upset you when you smirked. “You didn’t mention anything about me not wearing any panties.”

His cock was ready to burst from his pants. “Because that fucking clown out there interupted me,” he rumbled, pinning you against the door and crowding your body. His nose touched yours as he hiked your dress up, desperate to kiss you again. Eager to feel your wetness. “You trust me?”

It was a question he always asked. You put all of yourself into his care, your body, mind, heart, and soul. It was only fair that he made sure you still wanted him to be the one for you today, tomorrow, and every day after that. Even then a single lifetime would never be enough for him. He wanted a thousand lives with you.

“Always,” you said, an ache in your voice that he couldn’t resist. He fused his lips with yours, building up the fire all over again when his hand found your damp heat. The most intimate part of you where you allowed him to make himself at home. Your hands shook as you went to undo his pants, wanting to free him. “And you trust me?”

It wasn’t just his heart that contracted. His very soul trembled, wanting to wrap itself up in your light and love. “With everything in me,” he promised, sighing when he pulled his cock free from his underwear. “I’ll worship you later. Those gorgeous tits of yours. Your sweet cunt.”

Once you were home, he’d slip off your dress and give every beautiful inch of your body the attention it deserved. He’d draw a bath for you, too, and hopefully join you so he could simply hold you. But he was desperate for you now. He thought he’d burn if he didn’t have you.

You hiked a leg around him, moving your hips enticingly. There was only so much he could take. And who wouldn’t fall under the tempting spell of your body? “I’m ready for you.” Your soft moan echoed in his ears as he trailed a finger along your slit to your clit, barely touching it. He knew it would shoot small sparks through your body until you begged for more. “I mean it, Barnes. Get. Your cock. In me.”

“My needy little wife,” he whispered against your lips as he gripped the base of his cock and probed your entrance. The breathy sound you made when he began to push in had his blood pulsing in euphoria. It was a wonder he fit some days with how tight you were, but your slick heat stretched and welcomed him every time.

“My needy husband,” you smiled as you enveloped him completely, your fingers curling in his hair.

“What kind of man isn’t needy for his wife?” He began to thrust in deep, deliberate strokes. It matched the rhythm of the music in the distant ballroom, the two of you creating your own sultry dance. Maybe he would go up in flames. At least he’d have you to burn with. “Fuck, your body was made for my cock.”

Each snap of his hips tore more moans and whimpers from your throat and sent shockwaves through his system. You clenched around him with a smile, looking like a debauched angel. “My pussy was made for you, so ruin it.”

He groaned, his pulse beating strongly as his grip tightened on your hips. He fucked you without restraint, just as greedy for you as you were for him. Allowing himself to feel you and what you did to him was everything he was denied for so long. His life had only been order. Pain. You let him lose control. You gave him pleasure. Even a home.

I love you.

“I love you, too, Bucky,” you panted, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes closed against the emotions threatening to surface. “I love you, too.”

His pace picked up, urgent, frenzied. At this rate, he might explode into fragments from your declaration and how good you felt. “You love me?” He bit out, his eyes opening and breaths harsh as he felt you clench again.

You cried out, his hand flying up to brace your head before it hit the door. “So much,” you moaned as you gazed at him. You were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Fierce in love and loyalty, patient and steadfast. He feared some days he’d need you more than you needed him, but you drove that thought from his mind. “I’m yours.”

“I’m not gonna last,” he warned. He couldn’t with the way you looked at him, the way your walls gripped him, knowing you were his.

“Neither am…” Your mouth fell open as your release hit you, your fluids drenching him. It was a wonder to watch you go over the edge in a blissful orgasm. He wanted to be right there with you.

“There you go. Good girl,” he encouraged, your body still tight around his cock. He erupted in one last thrust, his head falling back with an animalistic roar. “Fuck…”

Bucky braced a hand against the door, the other holding you like a lifeline. If only the two of you were at home so he could properly cuddle with you. His breathing remained ragged for a bit as he came down from his high, your breathing beginning to steady, too. He couldn't help but smile as he took in the sight of you thoroughly ravaged and satisfied. “Worth every second of being here,” he sighed, slowly pulling out of your twitching hole. You inhaled when he moved a hand down and swiped two fingers along the mess seeping out of you. “Clean them off for me, baby,” he ordered huskily, bringing them to your mouth.

Obediently, you parted your lips and allowed him to push his fingers in. You swirled your tongue around them to taste your combined essence, moaning at the tangy flavor. He tucked himself away once you finished up, afraid that he’d fuck you all over again if he didn’t get completely dressed. It didn’t stop him from gazing longingly at you as he fixed his jacket.

And it didn’t stop him from imagining your mouth around his cock the next morning.

“Now.” You grimmaced slightly as he helped you steady yourself and straighten out your dress. He knew that look. It was the look you got for a split second whenever the sticky remnants continued to trickle down your thighs. He loved having that claim on you. “How do you expect me to go back to the gala after that?”

“I don’t,” he smirked, his hands moving back to your hips as he snuck in a gentle kiss. “I think it’s time to get you home and back in our bed where you belong. I promised I’d worship you, remember?”

You nodded, your eyes still slightly dazed. “On one condition.”

He titled his head. “What’s that?”

A slow smile curved your mouth, his heart pounding and cock twitching back to life at your answer, “You put a baby in me tonight.”

So, lovelies, was it okay? I feel rusty. And who wants a future fic of Bucky breeding you? Just me? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[quarterlifekitty]

How they’re getting you back

Aka what they’re like as exes that just can’t get over you.

cw: unhealthy relationships, manipulative behavior

Gaz is the guy your parents just won’t stop bringing up. Why’d you break up with him? He’s so kind, and so handsome, and he’s got a steady job— so what if he was a little jealous? He keeps hanging out with your family even after you break up. Like pull up to thanksgiving and he’s there because your mom invited him! And he’s betting you’ll give into the pressure soon and just take him back. They want grandkids, babe, why keep them waiting?

Soap loved forcing himself into your personal space when you were together, and that hasn’t stopped. He knows all of your usual haunts, and he’s using that knowledge to stay close. Your favorite coffee shop, your favorite pub, where you like to stop on your lunch break. It’s just such a big coincidence that you keep running into each other! Great minds, right, bonnie? Oh, he forgot you asked him to stop calling you that. How can he help it? You’re still just as pretty as you were when you were together. And weren’t those good times, hen? Why’d they have to end?

Ghost is leaving you scary fucking voicemails. Telling you that you’re never really gonna be rid of him, so you may as well just take him back, yeah? And yeah, you can hear the slick sound of him jerking his cock in the background, what about it? You know you’ll never get it as good as he gave it to you, birdie. Just answer the door next time he comes knocking, and he’ll remind you of how good you were together. And if you won’t be mature about this, he has his ways of getting in.

Price is this looming presence that you can’t shake. Flowers at your door, unsigned, but you know. Bills paid before you get the chance to pay them yourself. He was the perfect man when you broke it off— you said no contact, he complied. You moved out, he helped you box it all up and drove you to your new place without any complaints. You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. The truth was, he was calm when you told him it was over because he knew he just needed to put in the work, and things would be better than they were before.

König is perhaps handling it the worst. Like, this man is buying love spells off of Etsy witches to bring you back together. The gifts he sends are extravagant and pathetic. It might be a little more sweet and sad if he wasn’t huge and capable of killing you with his bare hands. It gets to the point where your friends feel badly— maybe you should just give him another chance?

Nikolai is, more than anyone else, completely sabotaging your efforts at finding someone new. Threatening any potential dates, bribing some, making others disappear. All with a knowing smile as he sits at a table on the other side of the restaurant, enjoying the nasty look you send his way when you’re stood up again. He wouldn’t keep doing this if you’d just go after a man who deserved you. A man who wasn’t so pathetically easy to drive off. But there’s only one man so crazy about you that nothing would get in his way when it comes to seeing you again, isn’t there? This could be easy if you’d come back. But he’s happy to keep playing games for as long as you like, malýshka.