#but to actually get to be apart of one for even a few days. to have strangers hold you for a moment because they see you plainly

[armpirate]

Borrowed Skin || JJK

pairing: JK x fem!reader || Obsessive love, Impersonation

w.c.: 6.3k

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, teasing (Minors DNI! Refrain from reading if you're not +18, and ignore if you don't like this type of content)

Aprox. time of reading: 28 minutes

Summary: Something felt different about your boyfriend, Junghoon, after not seeing each other for four days, though you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Familiar gestures felt slightly foreign, shared memories were met with hesitation, and the faintest shadows of someone else lingered in his eyes. What you didn't know was that Jungkook, his twin brother, had killed your boyfriend to take his place. Hungry for a life he could never have any other way, he came up with a plan in order to claim the love he had always desired.

MASTERLIST

It was late evening, and your phone buzzed with a message from Junghoon, your boyfriend. You met a few years ago. It was like the first scene of the couple in a romantic movie, with your hands brushing momentarily as you both went to pick up the same thing in the supermarket. You could almost say it was instant, just one look and a bit of conversation, and you both knew neither wanted to move away from each other.

Everything was perfect, except for his brother, Jungkook. They were almost identical, except for the tattoos on Junghoon's arm that covered his full sleeve, which his brother didn't have. Same with their piercings. Jungkook only had a few on his ears, while Junghoon also had two on his lips.

The differences weren't only physical:

Junghoon was always the responsible one, the kind of person who double-checked plans and took pride in being dependable. He had a steady, grounded energy that made you feel safe. You loved that about him. He was attentive, but not overly sentimental, he showed his care through actions, not words. Although, lately, that side of him was also fading.

Jungkook, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. He thrived on chaos, living in the moment without thinking of consequences. He'd always been a wildcard, the kind of guy who could light up a room but also burn it down. And the kind of guy who would constantly get Junghoon in trouble constantly when they were still close.

You remembered the tension between them vividly: Junghoon often vented about Jungkook's reckless choices, saying things like, "He thinks life's a game, but it's not. One day, he's going to go too far." Jungkook would retaliate with sarcastic remarks, mocking Junghoon for being too uptight.

Their arguments weren't just sibling spats, they were deep, filled with years of unresolved jealousy and blame. It made it easy for you to tell them apart, not just in personality but even in how they carried themselves. Junghoon's calm demeanor was worlds away from Jungkook's restless energy, which always ended up with your boyfriend also being dragged in whatever problem he was in.

You sighed when reading your boyfriend's text. He had been away all weekend, he actually canceled plans with you at the last minute on Friday, which you simply shrugged off, because it wasn't the first time it happened. He always had a last minute conference for his book, a last minute presentation or interview he couldn't place.

Junghoon: What are you doing?

Y/n: I'm coming back home... Where are you?

Junghoon: I went to the gym

Y/n: You? To the gym? You hate it...

Junghoon: Yup. Thought it'd be time to give it a chance

You simply rolled your eyes, leaving your small bag at the passenger's side of your car, your lip trapped under your teeth as you looked at the screen.

Junghoon: Do you want to do something now?

Y/n: Like what?

Junghoon: Prepare some blankets and some snacks, we're cuddling until dinner time.

You were confused, but you weren't going to oppose him. You actually liked the idea of doing something together after so long.

Junghoon: I'm on my way

Y/n: Okay. I'm shopping, but I'll be there in 10. Use your keys if early

Jungkook smiled at the text looking back at him, his smirk widening at the idea of seeing you after so long, for the first time in Junghoon's skin. He had always seen you from afar, always hooked on his brother's arm, but that night things would be different.

Even if it took him erasing Junghoon from the equation and taking his place, Jungkook would be finally able to be right where he belonged: right next to you.

His heartbeat kept beating faster as he approached your building... And a question popped up: would you be able to tell he wasn't Junghoon? Or would he be able to play your boyfriend so well that you wouldn't notice?

After he parked the motorbike, he played with the keys in his hand, the item tingling in his fingers as he looked at the mailbox to confirm which one was your door.

The house was a reflection of you: warm and orderly, with small imperfections that spoke of a life lived rather than curated. He exhaled slowly, steadying the tremor in his fingers. That wasn't the first step; that had been weeks ago. But this was the moment he crossed the line, fully stepping into Junghoon's life. Into your life. Officially adopting an identity and a personality that didn't belong to him only so he'd be able to be with you.

"Love?" his voice sounded a bit deeper than usual when calling for you.

After not hearing from you after a few seconds, he assumed you didn't arrive yet and closed the door behind him. His helmet rested on the backrest of your couch as he planned on walking around. You didn't have many details in the living room, but it was obvious on the small frames placed on the shelves on both sides of your TV that you liked to make it known that house was yours. Guilt and worry held onto his chest as his eyes fell on a picture you had with Junghoon, then to a new one.

And he wondered... was he going to be able to play the perfect boyfriend his brother always was?

Before he could think any deeply about it, the door clicked behind him, and he suddenly turned to see you. Your small frame was bent more towards one side than the other, because the weight of the bags you were carrying in one hand was too heavy.

Jungkook walked to you before you could open your mouth, his hands brushing against yours and forcing him to ignore the electricity to act as normal as he could.

"Thank you, love" you whispered, closing the door.

His walk was intuitive, thanking himself for being early and taking a look around your place to know where things were. Your tracks stopped when you spotted the helmet, ignoring the rustle from the bags in the kitchen.

"What's with the helmet?" you asked confused.

For a moment, he didn't respond, his face unreadable. Then he laughed, a little too quickly, a little too loud. "Oh, that? It's not mine. It's... a friend's. He brought me on his motorbike. I've been meaning to return it."

You frowned. "A friend's?"

He shrugged, still moving inside the kitchen, knowing his lie would be caught as soon as you looked him in the eye. "Yeah, someone I met at the gym" he said, mentioning it like it was no big deal.

And it wouldn't be... if it weren't because his brother wasn't the perfect boyfriend he always showed off to be.

He assumed you'd already know everyone in Junghoon's workplace and his group of friends, adding someone in the picture from a background you didn't know of was a quick way of escaping, without any more questions.

You nodded slowly, still trying to process the oddness of it all. You didn't want to be paranoid. Hell, you promised you left behind all of your insecurities and doubts after what happened, but you couldn't help but let all of those feelings come back at you again with Junghoon's strange behavior that night. Showing up in the middle of the night, so eager to see you, with that same nervousness... It almost felt like a throwback to...

You shook your head, trying to erase those thoughts.

"Do I know this friend?" you asked, half-joking, trying to shake the strange feeling gnawing at your stomach.

He paused, the rustle of bags suddenly stopping. "I don't think so," he said lightly. "I told you it was someone from the gym."

The answer should have satisfied you, but it didn't. Something about the way he avoided any type of honesty when he spoke made your chest tighten. You didn't push further, though. You told yourself it was nothing -Junghoon was just tired. Maybe he really had changed, even in small ways. People did, right?

The rustle of the bags came back as you started making your way to the kitchen, his wide back completely eclipsing whatever he was doing on the counter. "Come on," he said, flashing you that familiar smile over his shoulder, "I'll let you pick a movie to watch until it's time for dinner."

You returned his smile, letting yourself be pulled into the comfort of the moment. Although it lasted just a short moment, because your teeth trapped your lower lip before you could even control yourself.

"Babe" you called him, getting his attention. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean..." you readjusted yourself in the kitchen, resting against the wall, shifting your position so you'd be able to look at him "There's no secrets between us".

Jungkook hesitated, knowing what your gaze meant. Yet, at the same time, he knew that look wasn't because you were suspicious of his fake personality. It was something else he couldn't decipher, but it made his heart shrink with a guilt he wasn't the owner of.

"I do have something to tell you" he finally said.

As much as you'd have loved to be relieved by that sentence, it made your pulse quicken. Because last time it started the exact same way.

"The helmet" he said, trying to control himself by redirecting his thoughts on the conversation "is mine. I didn't want to tell you, because it was going to be a surprise, but I'm a mess and ruined it. I've been studying to get the license" he finally admitted. "I bought a motorbike recently..."

"You did what?" you frowned. "That's..." definitely better than everything you had imagined. "Oh god, that's great" you smiled widely. "The amount of things we'll be able to do, and all the places we'll go".

Jungkook's heart fluttered at the way your expression changed, opening the door to an excited rambling with several ideas you were clearly already thinking of.

"You liked the surprise, baby?"

"Yes, yes" you nodded repeatedly. "You kept it to yourself so well, I wouldn't have seen it coming at all".

"Yeah... I thought it'd be better for all the plans I want to do with you, hmm? We could go on a small trip during your holidays, I could pick you up from work..."

"I... You didn't even hint at it. You're usually so bad at keeping secrets" you sighed, relieved at what he was keeping from you.

"It was a surprise worth of keeping from you"

"I'm happy though" you smiled at him, started to take out all the groceries you bought. "I'm happy you finally got a license. I would have rathered it to be a car, you know, it's safer. But it's great" to prolong the comfort and happiness, you turned to him with a smile, finding him supporting himself on the doorframe "It's really great" you nodded again. "You know what?"

"What, baby?"

"I bought you your favorite dessert"

He tried to hide the surprise and confusion, knowing damn well you're referring to Junghoon's. Trying to keep himself from messing it up, he opted for a neutral answer: "You're spoiling me, baby".

As he watched you pacing around the kitchen, putting all the things perfectly in the drawers, he couldn't help but notice how you seemed comfortable in his presence, unaware that he wasn't your boyfriend, a little too happy with the domestic aura it all gave. For one second, he could only feel guilty of not doing what he did earlier.

"You're not going to ask why I showed up unannounced?" he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, trying to push away the guilt that gnawed at him. But at the same time, the feeling of having you in his arms was exhilarating.

"Why?" you asked softly, leaning into his body.

"I missed you" he murmured in your ear, his voice low and filled with desire. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

His eyes shut close when your fingers moved up to his hair, enjoying the feeling. Your touch sent shivers down his spine, making him crave more. Instinctively his body against yours, his lips finding their way to your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin.

"I love you" he subconsciously said, with his lips attached to your scent while his hands roamed through your curves.

"Baby" you puckered your lips, touched by his words "I love you, too".

He buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent and trying to commit it to memory, while his fingers ran through it, gently massaging your scalp as you stood there in your kitchen.

He slid his hands underneath your shirt, caressing your bare skin, making you hum at how warm he surprisingly felt. "You're so warm" you mumbled, snuggling closer.

"You feel so nice and soft in my arms" one of his hands made its way down to your thigh. "Hmm, the best" he gave your thigh a light squeeze and then slowly ran his fingers up and down the outside, moving his digits until they brushed against the hem of the fabric of your t-shirt.

"I'm glad you came" you confessed with a soft whisper.

Jungkook smiled against your shoulder, his face hiding in the crook of your neck "Why wouldn't I be here doing what I love the most?"

"Well... You always say your job is so important".

Junghoon loved you, you knew he did, but he also found a million other things more important than you, and he didn't hesitate to remind you. Now, having him behind you, his chest stuck to your back as he hugged you tight when he was supposed to be at work, you felt a warmth in your heart you hadn't felt in a long while.

"Of course it is, but you're even more important to me" he chuckled at your action, loving the way you tried to fit against his body.

You were tired of the amount of times you'd heard that same sentence on him, only to be paid dust all the time. But, somehow, those words felt so genuine that night...

"From now on, I promise I'll focus on you only. I promise" he whispered, with his lips brushing against your earlobe.

"I'm glad our arguments finally got some sense for you" you joked, although you weren't really joking.

For one second, Jungkook wondered how his brother could even think of believing anything was more important than being with you in his arms. How could Junghoon ever think of not putting you in first place?

"You don't know how much I hated those arguments, baby" he looked into your eyes when you turned your face, his gaze and tone both growing somber at the mention.

"Me, too. I hate being mad at you" you kissed his lips.

"Being mad at you was like torture. Those fights felt like hell" slowly, he made you turn on your feet, the feeling of you in his arms already making him feel better.

"What comes after those fights is worth it though" you smirked, hiding your face on his neck.

Jungkook chuckled, endeared by the way you hid how your cheeks turned a lighter shade of pink "Yeah, my clingy baby gets even clingier after our fights" he grinned and his hand rubbed up and down your thigh.

There was something about his touch, his words... or the way he was holding you like he actually wanted you that kept you pushing for more. You started kissing his cheek, but quickly moved down his jaw and throat, feeling him gulp thick under your lips.

"Mmm, baby, that feels nice" he tilted his head to the side to give you even better access to his neck.

You moved back up, your lips rubbing against his. "You like that?"

He brought his hands up to the sides of your face and pulled you closer, his lips hovering over yours, wondering if that was always how you made things up.

"Hmm" he nodded " And I think you're so cute"

He gave your nose a small kiss before kissing your lips softly, gently pulling on your lower lip with his. With every second, he deepened the kiss, gently pushing his tongue into your mouth, pulling and playing with yours. Your fingers sank deeper in his hair, flicking your tongue on his while your hands started moving down his torso. A low hum and a moan escaped his lips as he felt your fingers move, his hands sliding up and down your thighs before eventually gripping your hips. A gasp broke the kiss when you felt his hands on your hips, pressing you a bit harder against his crotch, and as you started to rock your hips against him, you felt that need for him starting to build up.

His teeth crushed on your neck, sucking at the skin to give you a mark as his hips continued to move against yours. His hands traveled down the back of your thighs, digging into your flesh as he started rolling your hips against him, slowly getting addicted to the way you felt against him. He didn't think twice, lifting your body so you were sitting on the counter.

He was left confused when you sat straight in front of him, although your smirk calmed him down almost immediately. His pulse raced up when you started taking your shirt off, his eyes falling down to your chest. His hands moved through your smooth soft skin, traveling up your sides, while his eyes shined as if that was the first time he saw you that way.

You didn't give him time to think, because you bent over to kiss him before he could. His hands were placed on either side of your neck, pulling you back down to his lips, the kiss immediately growing more and more hungry, his tongue immediately seeking access to your mouth again.

"Babe" you whispered against his lips, "what do you want?"

"You, I only want you"

"I'm all yours"

A smirk played on his lips as he heard the words fall so freely from your lips, your eagerness only fueling his hunger for you. The fact that he thought he'd never hear those words from you, and even less dedicated to him, made his head spin. His hands slide up your sides and then down again, his fingers hooking onto the waistband of your pants as he looked into your eyes

"Is that so? You're all mine and mine only?"

"Only yours" you whispered.

You didn't care about how many times you needed to confirm that, because that was the truth.

"Good girl" he groaned, those two words, so simple yet impactful, made your blood run faster through your veins.

He tugged on your pants, signaling for you to lift your hips up a bit so he could take them off, and you helped, supporting your hands on his shoulders to give him enough space to get you naked.

As his eyes traced a silent path through your body, you couldn't help but tilt your head. "Liking what you see?" your hands moved up through his shirt.

His answer, forward yet nervous, came up as if it was the most obvious answer "Shit, I love it"

You didn't need to speak for your boyfriend to help you take off his t-shirt, it was enough with the way you kept moving the black fabric up for him to follow your silent command and do as you wanted, his abs slightly flexing as you exposed him.

"When did you get so bulked up?" you curiously asked when you spotted the difference.

It was then when you realized the big toll routine had on you and your relationship, how you barely noticed the change in his body despite seeing each other almost every day.

"I've been working out a lot lately" he said, smiling nervously, watching your fingers run over his arms.

You could almost hear the pride in his tone as you touched his muscles.

Again, a pang of sadness showed up again across your brain as you realized how long it had been since you were that intimate with your boyfriend. You didn't even notice how toned he was becoming, you didn't even notice the progress as it was happening.

"I see" you chuckled, wrapping your fingers around his neck when you saw him placing himself between your legs.

He hummed and smiled as you wrapped your arms around him, his hands immediately going to your hips, gripping them and pulling you closer to him, his face in line with your neck. He nuzzled your throat, showering the skin there with light kisses.

His lips moved up to your jawline, placing small, slow kisses up your jaw, his hands grabbing your thighs and pulling you even closer, until your hips are rubbing against his again. The mere touching having you whispering in between kisses how bad you craved him, while his hands tightened their grip on your thighs at your words, your desire for him only fueling the lust and hunger for you inside him.

He attached his lips to your neck once more, gently sucking and biting the skin there while his hips rolled up as you grinded against him. The only thing that could ever stop him from devouring you was yourself, and that was exactly what happened.

He let out a soft hum as you touched his back, his hips rolling up against you again at the soft feeling of your fingers. When your digits hit his belt, a smirk played on his lips. "Do you want it off, baby?"

You nodded and you could feel his grip on your thighs loosening to give you space to move in front of him, able to drag your body down his from the counter. He watched you in awe, the movement already sending a wave of excitement through him. When looking down at you, his eyes took in every inch of your bare skin while he undid his belt buckle.

A thick groan left his lips when you played him while undressing him, your fingers barely touching his skin when taking off his dark jeans, earning him calling you a tease with a groan. Your boyfriend didn't hold back, holding your thighs to put you back against his body, the sudden move surprising you, but not letting you back off from teasing him "Yes, I'm a tease, and? You love it".

"Hmm yeah, I do. But I also love you being a good girl"

A smirk immediately plays on his lips as you weren't able to control your legs from pressing together. His hands moved down your body, caressing your bare skin. "Oh? Does someone like being called a good girl?"

It was something... new. It wasn't the type of chat you had while having sex.

He lifted your body once more, making you wrap your legs around him so you'd be steadily placed.

"Grind against me" he said in a deep tone, his hands gripping the small of your back more firmly, wanting to feel you closer.

You positioned yourself correctly enough to do what you were told, your hips almost meeting his, you could feel his hardened bulge, yet you didn't move an inch. "You want this?" you moved your hips down, rolling them for one second before moving them back up.

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his patience even at the feeling of you rolling your hips for a second, his own self-control slowly slipping out of his grasp. He gripped your hips harder, wanting to feel you against him even more "Yeah, I want this. I want you. So move against me and be a good girl for me, baby"

Clearly, you weren't going to make it so easy for him.

You bit your lip, bending over until your lips were almost touching his ear "Use the right words".

He shivered involuntarily at your whispered sentence, your breath in his ear sending another wave of excitement through him, the need to be with you growing stronger "Please, baby. Let me feel you, just move against me. You know I'm a patient man, but this is making me lose my damn mind"

"So this" you grind your hips down, moving them back up again "is making you lose your head?"

He let out a low, almost guttural groan at the slow, calculated move of your hips, the friction created by your movements driving him insane "Yeah, you're making me lose my damn mind, baby. You know what you do to me".

You licked his upper lip, your hand holding his chin before you rolled your hips back down against his.

He moaned in consequence, feeling the way you rolled your hips again, his own hips involuntarily bucking up against yours. "Baby... that's it, just keep going like that. Just a little bit more" he held back the urge to take control of your body and just take you right there, trying to keep a bit of my composure.

Although that composure didn't last long, just enough for him to take you to your bedroom.

You didn't know how or when you ended up underneath him, his body trapping yours against the mattress while his lips ghosted over yours "We're done playing now" he assured you. The air was caught in your throat when he brushed his lips against your throat. "I fucking love the way you're all mine" he groaned. "Mine only, hmm? I'll destroy whoever tries to get between us".

You gulped thick when you heard him saying that, unsure if it was just the pleasure ruling him... because he was looking deadly serious.

"What?" he called you "You like knowing that you're all mine and mine alone? You like hearing how I'll do anything to keep you all to myself?"

In three years of relationship, it was the first time you heard Junghoon being so possessive of you. Yet you didn't hate it. Not at all.

He crawled on top of you, his body trapping you beneath him. His fingers skillfully undid the clasp of your bra with a swift motion as soon as his fingertips found it. Your back arched with need as you felt the fabric caressing your skin before disappearing, and it kept folding as his lips started making their way down your body. He paused for a moment to look up at you, his eyes darkened for all the right and wrong reasons as he admired the invisible path he made from your chest to the edge of your underwear.

He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching for a hint of suspicion or doubt, for any sign that could make him back down. But he found none, only desire and trust. His fingers hooked into your underwear and pulled them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he got you naked in front of him.

Jungkook moved back up your body, his hands trailing up your thighs as he went. He positioned himself between your legs, his lips finding your collarbone again, leaving a mark that would be difficult to hide, while his heart pounded hysterically against his chest. His desire for you and the guilt of his identity waging a silent war inside him.

But he chose to silent them.

He lifted your leg over his hip, pulling you even closer to him. His body pressed against yours, and the last remaining layers of fabric between you felt like an unbearable barrier. He nipped at your earlobe, his voice a low, demanding whisper "I fucking need you so bad".

"I need you, too"

The way your words echoed his, the way you sounded so out of breath... It all kept clouding his judgement. He knew those words were dedicated to someone else, he knew your body was craving Junghoon, but the thought of his touch exciting you like that only made him growl deep in his throat.

His lips reached the apex of your thighs as he started moving down, pausing for a moment as he looked up at you. Your face was flushed with desire, your eyes darkened with need. He took a moment to memorize the sight before he gave in completely to his desires. Giving you one last look, he bent enough to sink his mouth sensually among your folds, the contact making you hum in pleasure almost instantly.

He ran his tongue over you, savoring the taste of you in his mouth. Your body writhed beneath his touch, your moans and gasps filling the room.. the combination of it all causing his chest to puff with pride, while his tongue dived deeper in you to get a better taste. Jungkook lost himself in you, driven by the overwhelming need to make you his, to make everything he had always dreamed of a reality.

Your moans, the sight of you, your reaction to his touch... it all drove him crazy with a primal need to possess you, to make you his in every way he had thought of ever since Junghoon introduced you to the family. He delved deeper, his tongue exploring you with a fervor that bordered on desperate. Jungkook craved more of those sounds, those sensations, those reactions.

You almost couldn't recognize yourself. The passion, the way your boyfriend was giving himself to you, the way he was sinking his mouth in you as if he wanted to eat you whole and then eat you again. You swore he made you let out sounds you haven't heard on yourself ever before.

"Baby, I need you" you moaned, almost with a plea.

Your words, the need in your voice, the way your body responded to him -it was like fuel to the fire. He wanted -no, he needed- to give you what you were asking for.

Licking your clit one last time, he moved up your body, making sure he showered with kisses every centimeter on the way to your face. Jungkook positioned himself between your legs again, his eyes holding your gaze. His fingers brushed against you, teasing, but never quite giving you what you want. His voice was a low, almost desperate plea:

"Are you ready for me, baby?"

You dedicated him a soft smile, before you nodded and placed your hands on his shoulders "Always".

Your answer, the look on your face -it teared away the last shred of restraint he had. With one movement of his head, he motioned you to get a condom, which you reached effortlessly at the bedside table to hand it to him so he'd wrap himself on the latex. 

His lips claimed your mouth in a deep kiss, while his length slid into you with one movement, filling you completely. It was strange, but he felt like coming home, finally being where he belonged.

For a second, the guilt installed in his brain, reminding him of what he was doing, of the place he was taking over, but how quickly you pulled from his neck and how you linked your lips together worked to get him back to the only thing that mattered: you.

You broke the kiss, moaning when he started moving, a low giggle adorning the room and making Jungkook the weakest he had ever felt. "Fuck, you feel bigger".

He couldn't help but smirk at your words, the need to hear more, to make you feel even more driving him forward. He lifted your leg over his waist again, his lips finding your ear as he murmured: "Is that a good thing, baby? Does it feel good?"

"So fucking good" you closed your eyes, dropping your head back.

He didn't know how long he stayed moving while just looking at you, drinking up all of your reactions, memorizing every small detail on your face with every new wave of pleasure, or the way your nails digged on his skin whenever he angled his hips to reach the right spot. You were so hypnotizing and addictive.

He was done being a viewer, he was the main character of the most devoted love story to ever exist.

Hearing you moan like that, hearing how good he made you feel, pushed him even closer to the edge. Jungkook bit down on your shoulder, just enough to leave a mark, as he tried to hang on just a bit longer. He picked up the pace, driving into you deeper, harder, his eyes fixed on your face, ready for the smallest sign to give you everything you could ask for.

When you opened your eyes, you didn't recognize the dark look in your boyfriend's eyes as he crashed into you, his pace was relentless, like he had been deprived from touching you for years.

Your hands moved instantly to his wrists, trying to find some stability as your body kept bouncing harder against the mattress. Jungkook intertwined his fingers with yours, holding onto you as if he never wanted to let go. He could feel your body responding to his, and could see how close you were.

"Give it to me, baby. Give me everything you have" he asked softly, your hands moving to each side of your head as his body bent over to cover yours.

He held your gaze, he took care of your body, and he walked with you to your high to make sure you wouldn't miss a single beat. Until you both turned into one, your bodies being a mix of shivers and electricity.

Jungkook held you tight, only letting go of your hands to wrap his arms around you and sink his face on the curve of your neck to inhale your scent. You were so his that it physically hurted.

"That was..." you thought for a few seconds, trying to come up with a word "new".

Jungkook curiously moved back to look into your eyes "New? In a good sense?"

"Yeah... Yeah" you nodded, huffing a laugh "Different, in a good sense though. It's just that..." you started to explain, feeling a bit nervous "you're usually so soft and slow, and careful and delicate".

"Am I?" Jungkook lifted his eyebrow, trying to wonder if he allowed his own needs to take control of himself and risk getting exposed. "I just got carried away. I'm sorry if I hurted you".

"Hoon, I've been asking you to be a bit rougher for months" you chuckled "Why are you apologizing? I liked it" while speaking, you tilted your head, looking at him "Maybe we should get even freakier next time".

For a second, Jungkook's lip twitched at hearing his brother's name on your lips, but he recomposed quickly after, letting a smirk be drawn on his face.

"You felt like a completely different person" you chuckled "I liked it".

Jungkook pecked your lips quickly, trying to get rid of the idea that he was indeed a different person.

"Shall we get something for dinner?" he casually asked, hugging you tight in his arms. He stretched his legs lazily,moving his face down to look at you, his lips curling into a satisfied smile. "How about we order something for dinner? I'm starving."

You blinked, surprised. "Order something? You usually insist on cooking after..." you trailed off, cheeks warming.

He tilted his head, the playful grin never faltering. "Figured I'd give us both a break. Besides, my cooking could use a little variety."

Junghoon always prided himself on his cooking, especially after moments like these. It was his way of grounding himself, of caring for you. Still, you shrugged off the unease. He probably was just trying to be thoughtful in a different way.

"What are you in the mood for?" you asked, shifting to grab your phone.

"Anything but Chinese food," he replied quickly. Too quickly.

Your fingers paused mid-air. "But...you love Chinese food."

Jungkook stopped, trying to think of what to say to get away from his own mess.

He hesitated, barely perceptibly, before chuckling. "Right. I meant, I've had enough of it lately. Craving something else."

You nodded slowly, letting it slide, but a faint buzz of doubt lingered in the back of your mind. As you scrolled through the menu options, he got up, moving to his pants on the floor.

His movements were fluid, confident, but lacked the familiarity you'd always known. The way he grabbed the fabric and tossed it on: it wasn't the usual meticulous way Junghoon folded and set aside his clothes.

"Pizza?" he suggested, his voice easy, casual. "Something simple."

Your lips curved into a small smile despite the growing doubts. "Sure, pizza sounds good."

As you placed the order, you caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. He was looking at you, but there was something in his eyes -a hunger, an intensity- that didn't belong to Junghoon. You shook your head, telling yourself it was all in your imagination.

After slipping into your clothes, the two of you left the room, the warm glow of the moment still lingering in the air. Junghoon walked beside you, his arm brushing yours occasionally as you both made your way to the living room.

"What time should the food get here?" he asked, glancing at you.

"About thirty minutes," you replied, checking the confirmation on your phone. "Plenty of time to relax."

Jungkook moved first, wrapping his arm around your waist to drag you with him over the couch, making sure both of you falled over it, your body almost over his lap, as he cuddled you tight. Something so simple as that had you instantly feeling better, instantly forgetting about any doubts or insecurities, vanishing that sense of unease and anxiety, to welcome comfort and love.

You didn't realize, but you started rubbing your cheek against his chest, while your hands held tight on his arms, your eyes closed while you allowed his scent fill your nostrils.

You were tired of being suspicious, and always ending on the worst of the conclusions, because small changes didn't always have to be for the worst.

If that was the first night of a new phase of your relationship, you'd gladly take it.

And something in him moved at your reaction. He was convinced he'd make you a million times happier than his brother ever did. It was as if the universe was telling him you were always meant to end up with him, because you molded together perfectly.

He, and only him, was everything you ever wanted, and he'd make sure he'd be the only thing you'd ever want. 

[flowersforbucky]

all's well that ends well to end up with you

bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky isn't going to let an extended mission, a severe thunderstorm, and a delayed flight ruin your first valentine's day together.

word count: 3.8k

warnings/tags: SMUT, 18+ only mdni, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, nipple play, reader is afab, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader is described as being shorter than bucky, fluffy as hell, sweet domesticity

wrote this for my bb @embbarnes 💕 happy (very early) valentine's day, everyone!

Of all the ways you had been hoping to spend the last few hours of Valentine’s Day, over 30,000 feet in the air next to a snoring man who has never heard of deodorant was at the bottom of your list.

You should have seen it coming from the moment that your two day mission was extended to a three day mission, but you naively held out hope that you’d be able to make it back home in time to salvage the second half of the day.

Getting back early enough to keep the seven o’clock dinner reservations that you’d made for a new, upscale steakhouse in Brooklyn would have been possible if a last minute thunderstorm hadn’t delayed your flight back to New York.

Now it’s already half past seven, and you’ll be lucky if you make it back home before midnight.

Truthfully, you don’t care about the dinner reservations. Sure, you’d heard great things about the food and you had been excited to go, but you could easily reschedule the reservations for another time. The only thing that you were truly bummed about was not getting to spend the day with Bucky.

Today is your first Valentine’s Day as a couple, and instead of spending it with him, you’re spending it on a commercial flight with dozens of strangers. You can’t help but wonder how many of them are missing their significant other, too.

If you’d had it your way, you would have woken up to his face this morning. The two of you would have slept in as late as you desired, and had a slow, lazy morning before cooking him brunch. Waffles, sausage and bacon, scrambled eggs with extra cheese and hot sauce – all of his favorites. You would have taken a stroll through the park before stopping at the bakery that you frequent for doughnuts and coffee, and maybe visited the botanical gardens before your dinner reservations this evening.

Bucky had assured you that it wasn’t a big deal and that the two of you would make up for it when you were back home. He patiently reminded you that life doesn’t take holidays and special occasions into consideration when dishing out things such as extended work trips and inclement weather conditions.

Valentine’s Day aside, you simply miss him. You’ve been missing him since the moment you left for Nebraska, and you’re more than ready to be back in his arms. This is not the first time you’ve been apart due to work related trips, but this is by far the longest – a whopping seven days.

You miss the way he wants to keep at least one hand on you throughout the night, the way he talks to Alpine as if she will actually respond, and the way that he hums without even noticing that he’s doing it. All of the seemingly little things that you don’t think much of on a day to day basis, but when you’re apart, make you miss him all the more.

By the time your flight lands in New York and you catch an Uber back to your apartment, it’s nearly eleven o’clock. Bucky, of course, had offered to pick you up from the airport, but you had insisted that you were okay with getting an Uber, not wanting him to get out so late at night in the heavy rain.

Plus, if he had picked you up, it would have ruined your plan to surprise him by stopping by his favorite pizza parlor down the block from your apartment on your way home. Sal’s Pizzeria is always open until midnight, and every year they run specials the entire week of Valentine’s Day on heart-shaped pizzas.

Knowing Bucky, he’s likely been living off of instant Ramen since you left for your trip, so you figure he’ll be ecstatic over a late night pizza. Not to mention, you’re famished yourself – all you’ve eaten since lunch being the pack of Biscoff cookies you’d been given on the plane.

Lugging your suitcase, a backpack, and the large pizza box, you fumble with your keys before unlocking the door and stepping inside.

At first, you assume that Bucky is already asleep. But as you walk down the short hallway, you realize there’s soft music playing from somewhere in the apartment. You don't think much of it, since you know that Bucky prefers playing music as opposed to the television for background noise.

It’s almost completely dark, minus low orange lighting that trickles into the hallway from the kitchen.

“I’m home, baby,” you call softly as you approach the kitchen’s entryway. “I know it’s late, but I brought you some pizza, if you're hun—”

You stop dead in your tracks when you step into the kitchen. Dozens of tea light candles illuminate the room, placed strategically on the island in the middle of the room. And on the countertops, and the shelves – basically any flat surface twinkles with the delicate flames.

You stand frozen as a statue with your mouth agape as you take in the scene before you. In addition to the candles, there’s a spread of food across the island. Plates of delicious smelling pasta, small bowls of soup and glasses of red wine. Tied to the backs of the barstools are red and pink heart-shaped balloons.

It looks straight out of a romance movie.

“Pizza pairs well with pasta, I think,” Bucky's voice breaks you out of your trance. “Can never have too many carbs.”

Your gaze snaps over to where he emerges from the den. He wears a bashful smile, and even in the low glow of the candlelight, you can see the faint hint of blush blooming across the apples of his cheeks. He has his hands behind his back, as if trying to conceal something from you.

“You did all of this?” You ask lamely. Your voice is barely a whisper and contains a noticeable quiver. “For me?”

You can’t wrap your brain around it. No one has ever done anything quite like this for you. All of your ex boyfriends always shrugged off Valentine’s Day, leaving you feeling lucky if you got so much as a card. You’d long ago learned not to expect much of anything. Definitely not anything as intimate and thoughtful as this.

“Of course for you,” he murmurs with a low chuckle. He saunters over to where you’re still standing with the pizza box clutched in your hands, and pulls what appears to be a bouquet of flowers in a large mason jar out from behind his back.

“Who else would it be for? Alpine?” He teases, extending the jar to you. You plop the box onto the counter so that your hands are free to accept the flowers.

Upon closer inspection, you realize the bouquet of flowers are not real flowers.

Well, yes and no – they’re wildflowers, made of out Legos. You can’t help but giggle, remembering how you had mentioned how cute you think the Lego set is when you saw it while buying some groceries at Target a few weeks ago. You giggle even harder when you picture Bucky assembling all of the tiny pieces of the bouquet with his large, vibranium fingers.

Your eyes begin to well with tears that threaten to spill over. You quickly blink them back, not wanting to show just how emotional the ornate, colorful arrangement of plastic flowers is making you.

Not just the bouquet – all of it. The food and the wine, the balloons, the candles, the forties music playing lowly from the record player in the living room – the sheer amount of time and attention that he put into creating such a romantic display, and all from the comfort of your home.

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, wiping away a stray tear with sleeve of your sweater. You place the mason jar of the plastic flowers in the midst of the spread of food in front of you, making the scene complete.

“It’s all perfect.” He opens his arms to you, and you happily melt into his embrace. He smells of his familiar earthy cologne, and you can’t help but inhale deeply, relishing in the comfort of his scent and warmth.

Even if you’d come home to him passed out in bed, you would’ve been ecstatic to just crawl under the covers beside him. All of this is more than you ever would have hoped for.

“All I got you is a lousy heart-shaped meat lovers pizza,” you sniffle against his t-shirt and you feel his chest vibrate with laughter. You know that you have the reasonable excuse of being on an assignment in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere Nebraska for the last week, but you still feel bad.

“Hey,” he murmurs, using his index finger to tilt your face to look up at him. He grins down at you for a moment before tenderly pressing his lips against yours. You melt into him right away, having missed the feeling of his lips on yours in the week that you’ve been apart.

His hands travel to your lower back, pulling you flush against him. Your own hands cradle his face, your thumbs caressing the light dusting of stubble that adorns his cheeks. You can already feel the outline of an erection forming through the thin material of his pajama pants when he pulls away, much to your disappointment.

“I love meat lovers pizza,” he assures you with a smirk. “And I love you. The best present you could give me is coming home to me.”

“Still. I’m going to make it up to you,” you promise with a feather light kiss to his lips. “I promise. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to—”

You’re cut off by a low rumbling noise that sounds from between your bodies – a reminder that you haven’t eaten a substantial meal in twelve hours now. You glance over to the plates of food on the island beside you, inhaling the delicious aroma of the dishes.

“I made an educated guess that you’d be hungry,” Bucky chuckles. He reluctantly drops his hold on your waist and moves to pull the barstool out for you. You hop up, taking your seat in front of a heaping plate of pasta and a bowl of French onion soup. Your stomach growls again at the sight.

“Did you make all of this?” You ask, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. It’s not that Bucky is a bad cook – he has a few go-to meals that are always excellent, but he normally doesn’t stray too far out of his comfort zone.

“I did not,” he admits with a sigh. He takes a seat directly across from you. “I ordered takeout from the bistro down the street before they closed earlier. Heated it all back up when you texted me that you were almost home.”

“Well, it’s fucking delicious,” you mumble through a mouthful of the creamy pasta.

You eat together in the glow of the candlelight, with soft music playing in the background and heavy rain beating down against the windows of your apartment. You talk about everything from the details of your mission to what he did while you were away. The food is delicious, the wine he picked out pairs perfectly, it’s cozy and peaceful and romantic – and you realize that you’re enjoying this so much more than you ever would have enjoyed an upscale steakhouse in downtown Brooklyn.

You both end up being too full of pasta and soup to eat any of the pizza that you’d brought home, but you’re happy that you’ve got a whole pizza to look forward to having for lunch tomorrow.

“Thank you, baby,” you tell him after swallowing the last sip of your wine. “For all of this. It was more than I could’ve hoped for today.”

He reaches across the counter, grabbing your hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. “Of course,” he murmurs against your skin, eliciting goosebumps down your arm. “As much as I wish we could’ve spent the day together, I still wanted to make the last hour of it as special as possible.”

He stands, releasing your hand as he begins to collect the empty plates and glasses. “You go on and get ready for bed, yeah? I’ll clean up in here.”

“Nonsense. It's almost midnight. These dishes can wait until the morning. Just stick them in the sink and come shower with me.”

You don’t even care if the whole apartment still smells of garlic and French onion soup in the morning – you’ve been showering and sleeping without him for the last week, and it’s still technically Valentine’s Day, so you’ll allow the dirty dishes to sit for the next eight hours.

To your pleasant surprise, he needs no further convincing. He piles the dirty dishes into the kitchen sink and puts the uneaten pizza in the fridge while you get the shower water up to temperature. By the time his pajamas fall to the bathroom floor, you’re already standing under the hot stream of water.

He opens the shower door, a cheeky grin spreading across his face as soon as his eyes trail up and down your body. The way he looks at you never fails to make you feel like he’s seeing you naked for the very first time, every time.

His hands immediately come to rest on your hips, easing you back against the cool tiling of the shower wall. “God, I missed you,” he sighs as he massages his fingers into the meat of your hips. The contrast of his warm flesh hand and cold vibranium hand on your waist has you arching into his touch.

“I can tell,” you giggle, pulling his face down to yours by the back of his neck. His mouth slates over yours, his tongue sweeping along your bottom lip. You part your lips for him right away, more than ready to feel and taste him after all of your time away.

He nudges your legs apart with his knee, inserting one of his large thighs in-between your own. You sink your bare pussy onto the expanse of his muscular thigh, dragging your center across him for friction. He kisses you until you’re breathless, and only pulls away to instead latch his mouth over one of your nipples. He rolls it between his lips and tongue, using his hold on your waist to help move you up and down his thigh. He alternates between each nipple, kissing and sucking on each until they’re pert and pebbled.

His erection gains your attention as it juts against your belly. You reach between your bodies, taking his length in your hand and stroking him with ease, the water from the shower making his skin slick.

You whimper above him, desperate for some release. He laughs, peppering kisses across your breasts and up your neck. You feel him smiling into the column of your throat.

“I think you missed me, too,” he murmurs against your pulse point.

“Maybe,” you admit, your voice etched with impatience. “Why don’t we hurry and get out this shower so I can show you just how much I missed you?”

He presses a final kiss to the side of your neck before pulling away and smirking down at you. He reaches over to one of the shelves in the shower, grabbing a loofah and your bottle of body wash.

“I’ll have you know that I showered before you got home,” he says as he squirts a dollop of the gel onto the sponge. “I’m just here for your entertainment – and your convenience, of course. Now turn around.”

You do as he says, turning around to face the shower wall. You brace yourself against the tiles with your forearms, relaxing as he begins to massage the soap across the tops of your shoulders and down your back.

He takes his time, lazily rubbing the skin of the backs of your thighs before reaching around and doing the same to your stomach and chest. As good as it feels, all you can focus on is the head of his cock nudging against the curve of your ass.

“Bucky.”

The word comes out somewhere between a moan and a warning – a warning that if he doesn’t finish lathering your body in the next two seconds so you can rinse the fuck off, you’re going to take matters into your own hands.

“What is it, baby?” he asks innocently, stepping forward ever so slightly so that his cock inches between the space where your thighs meet your ass.

You turn back to face him, grabbing the loofah out of his hand and tossing it to the opposite end of the shower. The stream of water that beats down against your bodies washes the suds down the drain.

“You’re really going to tease me like that? On Valentine’s Day, of all days?”

“Pretty sure it’s after midnight now,” he quips with a smirk.

You turn so that you’re out of the direct line of the water, and lower yourself to the shower floor. His cock bobs inches in front of your face. You grasp him in your hand, languidly stroking his length as you stare up at him.

“Then I guess you’re lucky that I missed you so much.”

He opens his mouth to retort, but snaps it shut with a sharp intake of breath when you wrap your lips around his tip. You swirl your tongue around him, lapping up the beads of pearlescent white that had gathered around his slit. You begin to bob your head, taking more and more of him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

Above you, he throws his head back and hisses at the sensation. His metal hand cradles the back of your head, guiding your movements. You gag at the overwhelming fullness, pulling away from him for air. You ease him back into your mouth, setting a steady pace. He rocks his hips forward, meeting your movements with his own.

In one hand, you cup his balls, gently massaging the sack. With your free hand, you attempt to relieve the growing ache between your own thighs by rubbing quick circles over your clit. The thrusts of his hips start to grow erratic, and you feel him twitch against your tongue when he suddenly pulls away from you.

“Not gonna cum in your mouth,” he answers when he looks down to see your questioning stare. “Not tonight. Missed you too much.”

He pulls you up by the tops of your arms and eases you back against the shower wall once more. He then takes your place on the floor, kneeling in front of you. He trails kisses along the wet skin of your thighs as he hooks one over his shoulder. He wastes no more time, diving into your pussy. His tongue swirls over your clit as he brings one long, metal finger to tease your hole. He nudges it inside as his lips suction around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of your folds.

Your body goes relaxed, your back sliding down the wet tiling of the shower wall. Bucky helps support you from down below as he sinks his vibranium digit deeper inside you.

The coil in your lower belly tightens quickly, pent up from a whole week without his touch. He can always tell when you’re close by the little noises that you make and the way that you tug on the short brown locks of his hair with your fingers.

He groans as he licks a thick strip up your slit, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm washes over you, your cunt clenching around his thick vibranium finger as he sucks your clit until you go still above him.

It's then that it hits you that the water from the shower has started to run cold.

“Come on,” Bucky says, rising as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He turns the faucet off and grabs the two towels that hang over the glass wall of the shower, handing you one before wrapping his around his waist. “Let's get out of here. I’ve got one more gift to give you before we continue this.”

“Another gift? You’ve already done so much. I didn’t even get—”

He gently shushes you with a sly grin, exiting the shower before you can protest any further. You pat your skin dry before securing the towel around your chest and then follow him into your shared bedroom.

Alpine is snoring softly at the foot of your king sized bed, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re even home. Everything is exactly as you left it, from the stack of half finished books on your nightstand to the orange Himalayan salt rock lamp that hasn’t been turned off a single time since the two of you moved into the apartment together. The comfort and familiarity of everything makes you feel all the more grateful to be back home.

You grab a bottle of lotion off of your bedside table and begin lathering it onto the skin of your legs as you watch Bucky rummage through the drawer of his own nightstand. After a moment, he pulls out a small, dark red colored box.

“Catch!” He warns before gently tossing it across the bed to you. You catch it, a smile blooming across your face as you sooth your thumb over the velvet material encasing the small box. He walks over to your side of the bed to stand beside you.

You raise the lid to box, revealing a dainty gold chain with a capital letter B dangling in the center.

You think it’s perfect. It’s isn’t overly ostentatious – it’s the perfect size, and so very you.

“Do you like it?” Bucky asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“I love it,” you assure him, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful he is. “Help me put it on?”

You don’t care that it’s the middle of the night, you want it on you right now.

Bucky takes the box from you, carefully removing the necklace. You turn away from him, letting him drape the delicate chain around your neck. The charm lands just below your clavicle.

“There,” he murmurs as he clasps the chain together. You turn back to face him, letting him see his initial displayed across your chest. “Perfect.”

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper as you raise up on your feet to press your lips to his. The light flavor of your slick lingers on his lips, sending a fresh wave of arousal through your gut. “So much.”

“Of course,” he murmurs against your mouth. “Now lay down. Wanna see how it looks on ya without the towel.”

••••••

thanks so much for reading!! comments and reblogs are very appreciated ♡

[wolvietxt]

𝓢ILENT 𝓣REATMENT.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : argument, crying, hurt / comfort, happy ending, established relationship au, shouting, implied size diff (like my fav trope if you can’t already tell) silent treatment  summary : after an argument with frank, you both end up giving eachother silent treatment, until the tension gets too unbearable for you in the car. wc : 4.5k a/n : i got a req for this a few days ago but i think i deleted it or something i can’t find it now💔 but it was from an anon so thank you for this one because i loved writing this ALSO!! thank you to everyone who leaves feedback + little comments on my frank fics i notice it happens more when i write for frank and it’s the absolute sweetest

the air in the apartment felt heavy, charged, like a storm was brewing right there in the middle of the living room. frank was pacing now, his big hands flexing at his sides, his jaw tight enough that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.  

you didn’t fight - not like this. not with him raising his voice and you trying so hard not to let yours crack. it wasn’t how things usually went. frank was tough, sure, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t really go away even when he was at his gentlest. but with you, he was softer. he made an effort to rein it in because he’d told you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he didn’t want you to ever be scared of him. and you never had been.

but tonight, he was angry. angrier than you’d ever seen him at you, and the worst part was you weren’t sure how it had even escalated to this.  

“so what?” frank barked, spinning on his heel to face you, his broad frame taking up what felt like the entire room. “you think i’m just gonna sit back and let this slide?” his voice was sharp, cutting, and it made you flinch, even though you knew deep down that he’d never in a million years actually hurt you. “you think that’s who i am?”  

you held your ground, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. “it’s not about letting it slide, frank,” you said softly, your tone calm, measured - a stark contrast to the heat in his voice. “it’s about not making it worse. escalating doesn’t fix anything.”  

“escalating?” he repeated, his voice rising, almost incredulous. “this isn’t escalating, this is handling it. you don’t just let people treat you like crap n’ walk away. you should know that’s not how it works.”  

“sometimes it is,” you said quietly, refusing to match his volume. “sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do. not everything has to be a fight.”  

“bullshit.” the word came out harsh, and the bite in it made your chest tighten. frank rarely swore at you, and when he did, it was never like this, never with this kind of edge.  

your hands trembled slightly, so you folded your arms across your chest, not in defiance but as a way to steady yourself. “frank, please. i don’t want to argue about this.”  

“yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went and tried to handle this on your own.” he threw his hands up, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking. “you didn’t even tell me, and now i’m supposed to just sit back and be okay with it?”  

“i didn’t tell you because i knew this is how you’d react,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his face twisted, a mixture of disbelief and something else - hurt, maybe. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hard, almost cold expression. “damn right this is how i’d react,” he shot back. “because i give a shit. because i don’t want you getting hurt or screwed over or whatever the hell else might happen if i’m not there to step in.”  

“i know you care,” you said, your voice still soft but firm. “but you can’t control everything, frank. sometimes things happen, and you just have to let them go.”  

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “letting it go gets you hurt. letting it go gets you walked all over. i’m not gonna let that happen to you.”  

his words were loud, forceful, like he was trying to hammer them into your head, but they only made your throat tighten more. “i can handle myself,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts.  

“can you?” he snapped, and the doubt in his tone stung worse than any of the yelling.  

you flinched, your eyes dropping to the floor. “that’s not fair,” you whispered.  

“yeah, well, life’s not fair,” he shot back, his tone still razor-sharp.  

silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but you refused to cry - not in front of him, not when he was like this, which he never had been before. you’d seen flashes of it occasionally, never once directed at you. so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, your steps quick but steady, your back straight even though every part of you felt like curling up into yourself.  

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you left.  

the door clicked softly as you shut yourself in the bathroom, leaning back against the cool wood as you tried to pull in a steadying breath. it felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs back in the living room, and now the weight of it all was crashing down on you.  

you stared at the tiled floor, your arms wrapped around yourself like that might somehow hold you together. your chest felt tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you bit down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let them fall. not yet, anyway.  

you weren’t used to this - not with frank. he could be sharp, blunt, even infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, but he was never cruel. not to you. in the years since you’d met him, since the whirlwind of your relationship had gone from cautiously circling each other to something real and steady, frank had always been your safe place. he was intense, sure, but his intensity had always felt protective, grounding, like you could lean on him no matter how bad things got.  

so why did it feel like he was the one knocking the ground out from under you now?  

you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. it wasn’t fair to pin all the blame on him, you knew that. this argument wasn’t entirely about frank’s temper, or his need to protect you - it was about your own unwillingness to let him.  

the issue had started small, just a casual remark you’d made earlier in the week about someone you worked with - someone who’d been taking advantage of your kindness. you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but frank had picked up on it immediately, and the more you’d tried to brush it off, the more his protective instincts had kicked in.  

at first, it had been sweet, his quiet grumbles about how people didn’t deserve to treat you that way, how you needed to stand up for yourself more. but somewhere along the line, it had turned into this - a full-blown argument where neither of you seemed to be able to see the other’s side.  

you weren’t blind to why he was upset. frank had been through more than most people could even imagine, and the idea of someone hurting you - or even disrespecting you - lit a fire in him that he couldn’t always control. but the way he handled that fire was what made your chest ache. it felt suffocating, like his need to protect you was overshadowing the fact that you didn’t want - or need - him to fight your battles for you.  

you let out a shaky breath, the first tear slipping free as the weight of it all settled heavier on your shoulders.  

frank had always been larger than life to you - not just physically, though his sheer size and strength made you feel small in comparison, but in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command every room he walked into. it was part of what had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that bordered on intimidating until you saw the softness he tried so hard to hide.  

he’d always been gentle with you, even when his hands were so calloused and rough, even when his voice was so gravelly and low. it made the harshness of his words tonight cut deeper, the sharp edges of his anger something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.  

you wiped at your face quickly, straightening up as you tried to pull yourself together. you hated crying - especially over arguments like this. it made you feel weak, even though you knew it wasn’t, and the last thing you wanted was for frank to think he’d broken you. he’d never stop beating himself up over it.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back out there yet. not with the way his words were still echoing in your mind, the frustration in his voice still ringing in your ears.  

you stayed there for a while, letting the quiet of the bathroom wrap around you like a blanket, giving yourself the space to breathe and feel without the weight of frank’s presence bearing down on you.  

meanwhile, in the living room, frank was pacing again. his hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was deep in thought - or pissed off.  

he knew you were upset. hell, he wasn’t an idiot, and he’d seen the way your eyes were brimming with tears before you’d turned and walked away. it wasn’t the first time he’d pushed too hard, but it was the first time it had been directed at you, and it was eating at him in a way he didn’t want to admit.  

but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t seem to let it go. it wasn’t directed at you - not at all. it was at the situation, at the asshole who’d made you feel like you had to handle everything on your own. but frank wasn’t exactly good at untangling those things, at separating his frustration from the people he cared about most.  

he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low growl of frustration as he dropped onto the couch. his mind was running in circles, replaying the argument over and over again, each word sharper than the last.  

the silence in the apartment felt deafening, and for a moment, he considered going to find you, to try and talk this out. but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay put. you needed space - he knew that much, even if it went against every instinct he had.  

he sat there for a long time, the tension in his body refusing to ease as he stared at the spot where you’d been standing just minutes before.  

the car keys sat on the counter, untouched, while the clock crept closer to the time you were supposed to leave. it had been a whole thing - this charity function a few towns over. someone important to frank had invited him, and even though it wasn’t the kind of event he’d normally go for, he’d said yes because it mattered to them.  

you had said yes because it mattered to him.  

but now, with the argument still heavy in the air, the thought of sitting next to him for almost four hours felt like trying to breathe underwater. the quiet that lingered between you wasn’t the natural kind you often enjoyed. it was thick and suffocating, and neither of you seemed ready to cut through it.  

you stood in the bedroom doorway, watching frank tie his boots like the act itself had wronged him. his movements were sharp, jerky, and his mouth was set in a grim line. you weren’t sure if it was guilt or frustration written in his expression, but either way, it left your stomach in knots.  

he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, yanking it on with a force that looked like it made the seams strain. his head turned slightly toward you as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, his eyes dropping to the floor instead.  

you didn’t move, didn’t speak, just hovered in the doorway as he brushed past you toward the front door. the weight of it all - the argument, the way he hadn’t looked at you since - pressed down on your chest like a boulder, and your throat burned with more unshed tears.  

when he held the door open for you, you walked through it wordlessly, your gaze fixed on the floor.  

outside, the crisp night air felt sharper than it should have, like even the weather was conspiring to remind you how raw everything was. frank locked the door behind you without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place made you flinch.  

he didn’t notice.  

the car ride loomed ahead of you like a punishment, the thought of sitting in that confined space together for hours making your palms sweat. but there was no way out of it, not without causing more problems.  

frank climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. he started the engine without looking at you, the low growl of it filling the space where words should’ve been.  

you slid into the passenger seat, keeping your hands in your lap and your gaze fixed on the window. the city lights blurred into streaks as the car picked up speed, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. your mind was stuck on everything that had been said - and everything that hadn’t.  

he’d been angry. louder than usual, harsher, the words tumbling out of him like he didn’t know how to stop them. but you knew frank. you knew the fire in him wasn’t because he didn’t care - it was because he cared too much, and it scared him sometimes.  

still, knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.  

the silence in the car was unbearable, the kind that made you want to fill it just so you didn’t have to sit with the weight of it anymore. but frank wasn’t giving you an inch, his eyes glued to the road and his shoulders hunched up like he was trying to shield himself from the world.  

you stole a glance at him, your chest aching at the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. he looked tired - angry, yes, but tired too, like the argument had drained him in ways he didn’t want to admit.  

your own emotions were bubbling up, threatening to spill over no matter how hard you tried to keep them in check. your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you clenched them into fists to try to stop it, but it didn’t help.  

you didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear slipped down your cheek, cool against your flushed skin. you brushed it away quickly, hoping frank wouldn’t notice, but you doubted he’d even glanced your way.  

the road stretched on, dark and empty except for the occasional glow of headlights from oncoming cars. the longer the silence dragged, the heavier it felt, like it was wrapping around your throat and making it hard to breathe.  

eventually, the ache in your chest grew too much to bear. you didn’t know what you wanted - comfort, maybe, or some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay - but the urge to reach out was overwhelming.  

your hand hovered hesitantly over the center console, your fingers trembling as you debated whether or not to do it. it felt like crossing some invisible line, like putting yourself out there in a way that left you completely vulnerable.  

but then you glanced at frank, at the way his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, and something in you broke.  

with tears brimming in your eyes and a small, helpless pout tugging at your lips, you let your fingers reach up to grasp at his. the touch was so light it was barely there, but it was enough to draw his attention.  

he glanced down at your hand, his gaze softening instantly as he took in the way your fingers trembled and the sheen of tears in your eyes, the wet tracks of tears that’d already fallen etched on your face.

“ah, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.  

his hand moved to cover yours completely, his fingers curling around your smaller ones in a gesture that felt both protective and grounding. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand in slow, deliberate strokes, and the tension in your chest eased just a little.  

you sniffled, blinking quickly to clear your vision as you looked up at him. his expression had shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he met your gaze.  

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.  

frank let out a heavy sigh, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he pulled the car off to the side of the road. the tires crunched against the gravel as he put it in park, and before you could ask what he was doing, he was out of the car.  

your breath caught as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his movements deliberate but not rushed. he opened your door, the cool night air rushing in as he crouched slightly to meet your eyes.  

“c’mere,” he said softly, his tone a stark contrast to the anger that had been there earlier.  

you hesitated for only a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt and letting him pull you into his arms. his embrace was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel small and safe all at once.  

“’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “shouldn’t’ve yelled. shouldn’t’ve made you feel like that.”  

you buried your face in his chest, your own arms slipping around his middle as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry too,” you whispered.  

“you don’t gotta be sorry, you did nothing wrong. my sweet girl’s just nice to everyone, isn’t she?” he cooed, his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently against your temple as he peppered hard kisses over your face. “we’re okay?”  

you nodded against him, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “we’re okay.”  

he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than before. but instead of pulling back completely, frank’s lips trailed down, brushing lightly against your temple, then your cheek.  

your breath hitched, your hand tightening around his shirt as he hesitated, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. when your eyes flicked up to meet his, there was something unspoken between you - an ache, a pull that neither of you could ignore.  

“frank…” your voice was barely a whisper, and it only made him lean in closer.  

his hand moved to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips finally found yours. the kiss was slow at first, soft and careful, but there was a heat behind it, a depth that made your stomach twist in the best way.  

he kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how tightly he held you. his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him just enough to make you feel the strength behind every touch, every movement.  

when he pulled back, it was with a low, rumbling breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something deeper.  

your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as you tried to find the words, but all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping the front of his shirt.  

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before stepping back. “c’mon,” he said, his tone softer now, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before helping you back into the car.  

as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand found yours again, holding on tightly. this time, neither of you let go.  

the rest of the drive was quiet, but not in the same way as before. frank kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours firmly in his grasp. his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent apology with every stroke.  

you felt the tension melting bit by bit, your chest no longer tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. instead, there was this warmth - a softness between you that hadn’t been there earlier. it was unspoken, but it was enough to ease the ache in your heart.  

“we’ll stop soon, yeah?” frank broke the silence, his voice low and softer than usual. “get you somethin’ to eat.”  

your lips curved into a small smile, your first real one since the argument. “i’m okay,” you murmured. “we don’t have to stop.”  

“nah.” he glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “you didn’t eat much earlier. ain’t lettin’ you sit through this thing hungry.”  

the tenderness in his voice made your cheeks heat, and you squeezed his hand lightly in response.  

it wasn’t long before frank pulled off at a small diner on the side of the road. the neon sign flickered against the night sky, casting a warm glow over the parking lot.  

“c’mon,” he said, cutting the engine and stepping out.  

before you could even reach for the door handle, frank was already there, pulling it open for you. his hand was outstretched, waiting for yours, and when you slipped your fingers into his, he gave them a gentle squeeze.  

inside, the diner was quiet, the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the space. frank led you to a booth in the corner, his hand never leaving yours until you slid into your seat.  

“what’re you in the mood for?” he asked, his eyes scanning the menu even though you both knew he’d end up ordering the same thing he always did.  

you shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in front of you. “maybe just some fries.”  

frank frowned, lowering the menu to look at you. “you need more than that.”  

“frank, i’m fine - ”  

“i’ll get you somethin’ else too,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you bit back a smile, knowing better than to push him when he got like this. instead, you let him order for both of you, his gruff voice somehow softer when he spoke to the waitress.  

when the food arrived, frank nudged the plate closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly when you hesitated. “eat, sweetheart,” he said gently.  

you rolled your eyes but grabbed a fry anyway, earning a satisfied grunt from him.  

as you ate, the tension from earlier felt like a distant memory. frank had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like no matter how bad things got, everything would eventually be okay.  

after the meal, frank walked you back to the car, his hand settling on the small of your back as he guided you outside. the night air was crisp, but his touch was warm, steady, and it made you lean into him just a little.  

“y’alright?” he asked once you were back in the passenger seat.  

you nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile. “yeah. i’m okay.”  

his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. it was quick but tender, and when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek for a second longer.  

the drive to the function was quieter this time, but it wasn’t the heavy silence from before. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet where words weren’t necessary because you both knew everything was okay now.  

as you pulled up to the venue, frank cut the engine and turned to you. his expression was softer, his usual rough edges smoothed out in a way that made your heart ache.  

“you look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff but sincere.  

your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you glanced down at your dress, suddenly feeling shy. “thank you,” you murmured.  

he leaned over, his large hand settling on your knee as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “‘m gonna keep tellin’ you that all night,” he added, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks.  

the warmth in your chest grew, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “you don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, your tone light.  

he chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and you swore it was the best thing you’d heard all day.  

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, opening his door. “let’s get this over with.”  

as you stepped out of the car, frank was already by your side, his hand finding yours once more. he held it tightly, his grip firm and reassuring, and when he glanced down at you, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch.  

it was love - raw and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.  

and in that moment, you knew that no matter what, you and frank would always find your way back to each other.  

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[leia-writes]

hi! i had a dream about this recently and was wondering if it would be anything you'd be interested in writing :)

it starts off with the reader and in-ho going through a really rough break up but they still have feelings for each other. right before the s2 games started, in-ho went to a bar and saw reader there and her job is to perform live music, so she sings about in-ho and their breakup, not realizing that he was actually there

Maybe You'll Be There

hwang in-ho | front man x reader

ao3 link

masterlist

song inspiration: maybe you'll be there by etta jones

note: thank you so much for your request!!

warnings: angst

word count: 2,678

posted on: 1/22/2024

“Get out.”

You glared through teary eyes at In-ho, who was standing in the middle of your apartment with a bouquet of flowers. He sighed and dropped his arms in frustration, a few petals and leaves falling to the floor.

“I said I was sorry. I really am.”

“How many times have I heard that? You’re a broken record at this point.” You turned away from him and began cleaning up your kitchen. It took everything in your power not to break down crying right then, but you were just so tired of doing this with him. 

“I know. I messed up again. I’m sorry. Please.”

You sighed, dropping a glass into the sink. It clattered noisily as you turned towards In-ho. “Please what? Please forgive you for the thousandth time? Please forget how you ignore me whenever something important happens for me? Please let you play with my emotions?”

He stood there silently, trying to mask the shame spreading across his face.

“Which one, In-ho?”

He clenched his jaw, looking away from you. He still wouldn’t say anything. With every passing second he was silent you could feel your heart breaking even more.

You scoffed. “That’s what I thought. Get out.”

He gave you one last look, tears starting to form in his eyes. You’d never seen him cry, never even close to it. You wanted so badly to run to him, but you had to be strong this time.

You watched him as he set your flowers down on the table and walked to your door. He looked at you once again. For a brief moment you hoped he would say something, anything to make it right again.

Instead, he left, closing the door behind him.

~~~

You cried in bed that entire night. It was supposed to be a good day - you had just performed a full-blown concert all by yourself for the first time ever. Even though you worked for a very dark and secretive organization, you always made it a priority to pursue your passion for music. As time went on, you started gaining a reputation for being an outstanding jazz singer, and you found yourself wanting to move on from your high-stress job and live a more normal life.

After winning the squid games you participated in a couple years earlier, you soon found yourself working for the same organization alongside In-ho. Despite his cold exterior, you got along well. You had been dating almost a year before you started running into problems.

In-ho worked as the Front Man for a while before you joined him. You had only been working with him for a couple years, and you didn’t really have the same connection to that place like In-ho had. You both went through something extremely traumatic by playing and winning the games, but it seemed to bond In-ho to that place when you couldn’t care less. In-ho seemed constantly tormented by his decisions, as if he didn’t want to be there but couldn’t help himself.

As you started becoming more popular, you didn’t feel the need to work for them anymore. You wanted to leave many times, but In-ho always convinced you to stay. He promised over and over that you two could make it work, splitting time between the island and your apartment. And he promised he’d be at every one of your performances.

A promise he was never able to keep.

There were so many nights like that night, where In-ho would show up late in the evening, well after your performance, begging for forgiveness and promising to be better. You’d cry in front of him, break his heart a little, fall for his sweet words, and then make up as if nothing happened. Then you’d have another upcoming performance that always happened to conflict with work, and fight endlessly about how you navigate your relationship. Repeating the same vicious cycle over and over.

You couldn’t stand to keep breaking your heart like this. The love you felt for him was undeniable, something you felt you’d never get over, but the pain was just too much. Tonight was your final straw.

The next day, you finally quit your job and started your new life.

~~~

In-ho waited outside the lounge, the cold, night air whipping across his face. His hands were awkwardly stuck in his pockets as he scanned the people around him, looking for her. He was reluctantly waiting to meet someone on a blind date, set up for him by an acquaintance.

He didn’t want to be there at all, but figured he needed to start putting himself out there. Or at least that’s what everyone else was trying to convince him to do. After looking around for another brief moment, he spotted her approaching him.

She was beautiful. But she wasn’t you.

Ever since your painful breakup, he was tormented by thoughts of you. He couldn’t help but remember you in the little things around him, even now a year later. It was a constant reminder of his failings, how he ruined one of the only things that was good for him and made him truly happy.

He knew he was pushing you away the more you wanted to quit. He knew he was hurting you every time he missed a performance, ignored a call, prioritized anything else over you. He knew you’d be better off without him and his baggage.

In fact, it seemed true. Ever since you had finally broken up, he saw you rise to a whole new level of fame. You were constantly putting on performances and releasing new music. He tried his best to ignore any news he heard about you, but in moments of weakness couldn’t help but look you up and try to get a glimpse into your new life.

She approached him with a smile and they entered the lounge together, sitting at a small, intimate table for two. The atmosphere couldn’t have been any more romantic - warm, low lights, candles and a rose on the table, drinks and conversation flowing with ease around them. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt, as if he was doing something wrong.

A waiter approached the table and took their drink order. Upon returning, he excitedly pointed to the currently empty stage.

“Are you here to see the show?”

They looked blankly at the waiter, and she asked who was performing. In-ho felt his blood run cold when he heard the waiter say your name.

You.

You were performing at the lounge tonight. 

He gave a polite smile as he internally screamed. “Oh, we’re just staying for a drink, so we’ll probably miss it, won't we?” He glanced at his date.

She scoffed. “What? Of course not, we can’t miss this! I didn’t even know she was playing tonight.”

The waiter smiled. “It’s a special one-night performance, just for us. This is where she had one of her first solo performances!”

The waiter and In-ho’s date chatted briefly as In-ho tuned out all the noise around him. The one night he tried to get you off his mind, he found his way into the one place in the entire city you’d be. He felt his heart rate quicken and his head start to spin.

Suddenly he was pulled from his thoughts. “Are you a fan too? You seem the type,” his date asked.

He snapped out of it. “Oh, uh,” he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Yes, I am.”

She smiled. “Great! We can’t wait.”

The waiter smiled and left. In-ho and his date casually sipped their drinks while making small talk. His eyes would dart wildly near the stage, anticipating when you’d appear on stage, wondering if you’d be visible nearby. 

“Are you alright?”

In-ho brought his attention back to his date, who had a concerned look on her face. He smiled. “Oh. Yeah, sorry. Uh… just a bit nervous, I guess.”

She smiled and sighed, relieved. “Oh god, me too. I’ve never done anything like this before.”

He laughed softly, but couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable feeling he had inside. He looked around, noticing how busy the place was getting as your performance was about to start. 

“Want another drink before the show starts?” he asked. The waiters were incredibly busy, and he needed an excuse to step away.

“Sure. Just the same. Thanks.”

He quickly got up and walked to the bar. It was filled with people getting their last minute orders in, but he took his time getting the attention of the bartender. Anything to delay having to go back to the table and put on a facade. How was he supposed to act once you began performing?

As he was waiting for the drinks, you arrived on stage. The entire place erupted with applause. In-ho wanted it all to not be real, just a dream he could wake up from at any moment. He wanted to look away from you, to keep his focus on the drinks he was supposed to be getting, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning to you.

It was as if all the air in his chest escaped at once. You were standing at the microphone looking like an angel. The lights had dimmed in the room, with a single spotlight illuminating your face. You scanned the room with a soft smile on your face.

“Wow. Thank you all for coming. I’ve never seen this place so packed!”

A quiet laughter sounded from the audience as you continued. “As some of you may know, this is the spot where I had my very first solo performance ever, almost a year ago now. I have so many memories in this place. Some good, some bad, but… that’s life, isn’t it?” 

You paused to take a deep breath. “Tonight I’ll be singing some of your favorites, some I even performed here that first night. And I even have a new special song I’ll be performing at the end for you. I hope you enjoy.” You smiled as the band started, the crowd applauding again.

In-ho stood still, frozen at the bar as you began singing. He immediately recognized your first song, remembering so vividly even now how you practiced it and played it for him over and over. He didn’t even notice when the bartender gave him his drinks.

Instead, he stayed there almost your entire concert, completely mesmerized by you. With the songs he recognized, it was like watching his memories in a movie in front of him, as if he was experiencing those feelings again just like before. And with your new songs, it was like getting to know someone he’d never met. He saw the parts of your life he had completely missed. It created a deep sense of loneliness and longing in his heart.

Before your last song, he finally became aware of himself and brought the drinks to his table. His date looked surprised.

“Oh. I thought you ditched me.” She scowled.

In-ho gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry. The drinks…”

“The drinks didn’t take that long.”

In-ho sighed. “I know. I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

She sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. “You know, it’s fine. I was warned you might be like this, anyways.”

He was taken aback for a second. “What?”

“Your friends, they all told me they basically forced you into this.”

He scoffed. He wanted to defend himself for a moment… but they were right. He stayed silent.

“I just thought you’d have better manners than this,” she said, rolling her eyes.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Before he could think of something, you spoke before your last song.

“I want to thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to have your support. Thanks to you, I’ve been able to make my dreams a reality. I’d like to thank you by playing a brand new song, just for you all. I wrote this recently, but it’s about what some of my life has been like this past year. 

“Like I said before, some good memories, and some bad. I wrote this to reflect on some of those bad memories, and hopefully let go of the pain with them. I’m sure some of you can relate, right?”

Many in the crowd nodded. “This one is called Maybe You’ll Be There. Thank you.”

As you began your song, In-ho’s blood slowly ran cold. He knew after the first verse you were talking about him. He studied your face as you sang, watching how your eyes would subtly flutter at particularly emotional moments. It was something most people wouldn’t pick up on, but he knew you. He still knew you so well.

Your voice filled the space with ease as you reached more intense moments, gracing the ears of the audience with your rich tone. Once you reached the last verse, a tear fell down your cheek in perfect timing. In-ho’s heart strained in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to run to you on that stage and wipe the tear from your face, and do anything to make you happy again, anything to make the two of you whole again, anything to heal the wound that festered over the last year.

He almost cried listening to the final words of your song, hearing how you wished he would come back. After everything you had gone through together, and all the time you spent apart, you still missed him. His heart broke - he didn’t deserve you, and you deserved so much better than him. And you said it yourself, that you hoped you could finally move on after releasing this song.

Although it pained him greatly, and forced him to defy the longing he felt in every fiber of his being, he knew you’d be better off without him. And so, after your performance ended, he politely excused himself from the date and went home. 

~~~

You entered your apartment later that night, pleasantly exhausted. It was late, but you were still buzzing with emotion. You hadn’t expected to become so emotional while performing your new song. It had been a long time since you cried on stage, but singing that song brought back so many painful memories that you couldn’t help yourself. Despite that, you were proud of having such a vulnerable moment become something beautiful.

You collapsed on your couch with a glass of wine, too tired to get changed just yet. The silence enveloped you. You remembered a year ago, the last time you saw In-ho in your apartment. The somber look he gave you as he left. The ensuing rush of tears and pain that you couldn’t keep in that night. 

And the painful ache of longing you’ve had ever since then.

You sighed deeply, finishing your glass of wine and willing yourself to stand up. Life goes on, you told yourself. You were well-acquainted with the act of ignoring your feelings and pressing forward. No matter how much you wanted In-ho to appear in front of you, it wasn’t going to happen. He never once tried to get you back in the entire past year. Maybe now you could finally let go.

As you walked to your bedroom, you heard a light knocking at your door. 

You stopped. Were you hearing things? The following silence was filled with tension.

You were about to dismiss the noise and continue walking when you heard it again, this time louder. Your heart was beating through your chest. 

Slowly, you walked to the door. Your heart leapt, as if you knew who was behind the door. You weren’t sure whether to cry, or get excited, or get angry. A flurry of emotions filled your mind as you grasped the door handle, turned it, and pulled the door open.

You froze at the man standing in front of you. His grief stricken face. Flowers in his hands. The way he breathed a sigh of relief. 

The way your heart breathed a sigh of relief.

In-ho.

[therightbeaches]

𝐬𝐮𝐛-𝐳𝐞𝐫𝐨 ⋆ 𝐚. 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

synopsis: you grapple with the weight of your position in the bau (and, worse, your feelings for your boss.) [3.2k] contents: bau!reader, angst, PINING. basically this entire fic is pining No Joke and reader is not nonchalant about it, brief bed sharing, sort of ambiguous ending? there is no resolution of aforementioned pining, reader is lowkey sulking the whole time a/n: i'm definitely still trying to get comfortable writing for hotch so again, the characterization probably isn't perfect 🙂‍↕️

Hotch is very likely the nicest person you know. The smartest one, too (actually, the second smartest if you think about it, because Spencer has an IQ of, what, 190? But, well, in the emotional intelligence department he sometimes lacks — you still like him bunches but the truth is the truth.)

You know the rest of the team might disagree with the statement Hotch is nice, but there’s an unspoken bond between you and him that’s been present since the day you joined the Bureau, and he doesn’t play favorites but if he did you’re sure you’d be it.

Regardless, meeting Hotch was like scoring a really nice vintage Coach purse at the thrift and opening it to find a crumpled twenty dollar bill stuffed into one of the inside pockets. Lovely on the outside and even nicer on the inside.

Really, you could go on a whole tangent about how sweet and passionate and generous and thoughtful he is. For your birthday, he’d showed up to the office with a four-pack of cupcakes and held your shoulder while you blew out the candles. On Christmas, he’d appeared on your doorstep in the snow to give you a copy of his favorite novel with his annotations scrawled into the margins.

You’ve found yourself in Alaska again. This time, thankfully, there’s a substantial lack of bodies. Rossi had ushered you and Hotch away to participate in a college guest lecture on criminal psychology for aspiring FBI agents — just don’t mention the janky coffee makers, he had instructed half-heartedly while seeing you off on the tarmac.

It was strange. Given, the seminar went off without a hitch, but leaving the lecture hall you’d had this horrible sense of unease. Hotch had the good conscience not to ask you what was troubling you when the imaginary bruise that your lecture pressed down on was aching. More a festering rot that eats through skin and fat and muscle than a bruise, in fact, if you don’t seek to sugarcoat it.

The lobby of your hotel is luxurious but empty. There’s a big window overlooking the expanse of nothingness beyond the hill, squishy velvet couches of emerald green, high-backed armchairs, scratchy wool throw blankets with tassels dangling to the ground. A big fire crackles in the hearth into the silence. The spillage of lamplight outside through the glass only stretches a few feet till it tapers off into the void, an endless pit of tar dotted by twinkling city lights miles away.

You exhale through your mouth and it turns into a smear of fog against the window. This job destroys people. Whittles them down till their bones are so brittle that they collapse under their own weight. You think of Elle, of Gideon, of Jordan, even, how it had eaten them alive inside-out until they had nothing left. You think of Hotch’s torn-apart family and his late wife, of his son who’d lost his mother, and the weight of Spencer’s abduction, his addiction, how it still affects him so deeply today. You think of JJ’s face when there’s a case involving a baby close to home (in a slightly altered timeline, it could just as easily have been hers), of the tough-guy façade Derek puts on, because what else can he do, let the work tear him apart?

There’s only so much someone can bear, only so many back-to-back days of another child missing, another dead body gutted and dismembered and dumped like garbage, another grieving family who lost a son, a daughter, a sister or a brother, a parent. And it’s difficult, more difficult than anyone can articulate, to know that it will never end. So, what’s the reason? Why are you still here, letting this job take and take and take everything you have to give?

Because you’re helping people, argues one half of your mind. You’re changing lives. In turn, the other half: but while you can help in one place, in a thousand others there are countless people getting hurt by cruel hands. What then? What makes one life more valuable, more worth helping than another? There isn’t a good answer (and it’s the reason that you think JJ needs a raise.)

Then, amidst the quiet, there’s the tap of shoes against mahogany floorboards, and Hotch’s distorted reflection materializes behind you. Your own is one you hardly recognize. Worn down to the bone, self-loathing, lonely. Drowning in a three-foot deep pool because you can’t get your legs straightened out beneath you.

“I thought you went to bed,” you say to the window.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He tracks your gaze to the outside. “I thought you went to bed.”

“I couldn’t either.”

“What’s on your mind?”

Profilers, you think mournfully. Hotch can read body language accurately to a scary extent, and maybe now it’s because you wanted him, wanted someone, to notice. Notice my struggle. Notice that something is wrong.

You rub a stiff hand over your jaw. Self-soothing. “I don’t know. This job is just hard. And of course I understand the appeal, but...”

“…But you don’t know why bright college students would want to commit to something so macabre.”

It’s an extension of yourself, really. Why did you want to commit to something so macabre to begin with? He gives you a look in the reflection that says talk to me. He’s your boss but he’s your best friend too. You tend to suffer in silence rather than burden a friend with personal qualms, and it’s why you don’t respond.

You wait with bated breath for something, anything, maybe searching for an answer that he can’t offer. This is one of the few things out of his field of expertise. He won’t give you some bullshit non-answer to make you feel better because that isn’t what you need.

Honestly, what you do need to do is take some time off, spend it somewhere tropical, and he’d give you the time off if you asked, but it’s the easy solution that you don’t truly want because it won’t fix anything. You can fly away in a luxury jet and drink a piña colada out of a coconut on a sunny beach somewhere on the other side of the globe and there will still be people dying while you sunbathe.

“If you had a do-over, would you still join the BAU?” Hotch asks suddenly.

He words it like this but it isn’t what he means. He’s asking if you can continue doing this. If, when you go home, he’ll find your gun and credentials on his desk. If the job is still worth it to you.

“I thought you didn’t really like hypotheticals.”

“In the right contexts I’ll… indulge.”

“And is this the right context?” you ask and turn to face him. The window is cold against the skin of your back.

“It’s something that’s making you upset, so I think it is.”

A beat, in which he levels his steady gaze at you and look down towards your feet as if your shoes can tell you the right thing to say. And, yes, you know that the right thing to say is the truth and it’s the truth that he wants to hear, but to tell the truth is to admit defeat in the face of struggle. You’re not the first agent to be ripped to shreds by the work you do and you won’t be the last but that knowledge doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.

All withstanding, there’s nowhere else in the world you can imagine yourself working at aside from the BAU. Never, not in a million years, not for a million dollars, would you wish to be apart from your family.

Never would you wish to be apart from Hotch, who’s changed your life in a million ways, all of which are for the better.

“I would,” you say, then bid him a despondent goodnight before retreating to your room.

The digital clock on your nightstand blinks 12:03 a.m. into the dark and you’re wide awake.

During the seminar, you’d touched on a few cases you’d worked and how the art of profiling directly correlated with catching your bad guy. The fundamentals: this is why we’re looking for a person fitting this exact description, and this is how we know, these are the classifications of serial killers. Oh also, once, three cops walked straight into a trap and I was the one who had to tell their families that we gave them the green light to breach the premises.

Of course, the last part isn’t what you said. It’s not a thing you can say because the FBI is always searching for bright-eyed, bushy-tailed applicants, but it’s the harsh reality that comes with doing this job that goes unsaid until rookie agents learn it themselves in the field. You still remember it. The first case you were on. The first time someone got killed in front of you. The first family you had to inform. The first videotape sent to the cops, the first letter addressed to you personally. The terror, the dread, the constant need to look over your shoulder, the ever-present fear of shadowy corners and what could hide within their tenebrosity.

It’s really fucking cold in your room. The radiator has to be busted, you think. It’s no better in here beneath your thick quilt than if you were bare naked outside in the blizzard, and there’s no way you’ll be getting a wink of sleep tonight unless… well. It wouldn’t be the first time you slept in the same room as Hotch. Two summers ago or so the coordinator had royally screwed up your reservations and booked doubles instead of singles and you’d roomed with him for the entirety of five agonizing days, in which you ate together and watched TV together and sat shoulder-to-shoulder on his bed over chow mein and case files.

He lets you in when you knock. Sets up the pullout couch for you but offers you the bed and relents with little resistance when you shake your head no. He gets you situated and turns the lamp off and it’s just you and him in the stagnant, suffocating silence.

“Do you want to know why I decided to hire you after the first round of interviews?” he finally asks, a low murmur so quiet that you can barely hear it.

You turn over onto your side, a curled palm sandwiched beneath your head and the pillow. “Why’s that?”

“Because I saw in you what I wanted to be when I first joined the BAU. Passionate. Dedicated. I know I made the right choice in hiring you and you reaffirmed it even more today during the seminar. I can’t think of a singular time you’ve let the team — let me — down.”

You roll back over, squint at the ceiling, trace the water damage stains turning white to brown with your eyes in the dim light from the window. You’re able to grab the tails of the curtains and tug them closed. Hotch is speaking with some secret, underlying, cryptic meaning to his words; he doesn’t sing praise just for the sake of singing praise. He must’ve forgotten you’re a profiler too, though it wouldn’t take a genius to decipher just what he means. I don’t want you to leave the team.

“Hotch, I-”

“People like you are what the Bureau needs,” he says sagely, as if you needed confirmation for his invisible meaning.

You sit up, pressing your back against the cushioned bottom panel of the couch. “People like you are. I mean, you’re such a good leader, Hotch, and I know how much you care. You always handle everything with so much grace and honesty, I think you’re great and so kind, you know, and…”

There’s the scrunching sound of fabric against fabric and the squeak of springs in the mattress as he props himself up too to stare at your silhouette in the dark, and you most certainly have given you and your stupid feelings away.

Your elbow bumps into the cotton upholstery behind you as you lift an arm to rub your eye. Your cheek squishes against the hill of your shoulder self-consciously. There are worse things in the world than you taking the bait (truthfully, there was no bait to tempt you in, but you think wanted to say it; it’s been a weight on your shoulders for too long now) and spilling your guts to the object of your affection, aren’t there? Not in this moment, you think, dejected, because you can feel his heavy gaze on you even in the pitch-black of night.

There’s a drawn-out pause, filled only by the sound of your shallow breathing.

His voice scratches when he speaks. “Is it cold down there, on the pullout?”

“What?”

“There’s still a lot of space in the bed.”

𑄻𑄾 ᵎᵎ.

The snowstorm outside has escalated overnight and has reduced visibility to zero. This means no plane travel until the storm wanes, and this also means you’re trapped in your lodging with Hotch for the short-term foreseeable future.

He finds you in the east-facing solarium the following morning sitting on a porch chair. Dressed in thin pajamas against the lesser insulation typical of a sunroom, you’re curled in on yourself with your knees to your chest, socked feet crossed in front of the backs of your thighs, chin atop your forearm.

Your conversation from the hotel lobby the prior evening weighs on you heavily. You would choose the BAU again and again if it came down to it, and when it did, you have chosen the BAU again and again. If anyone asked how much you like your job you might tell them how it’s saved you, how it’s given you so much of what you have. Your closest friends, your home, and selfishly, it’s brought you him.

How obtuse is it to weigh an individual at the same level as the comfort of your own space, as those you value most? Surely very, but he’s everything. He gives you everything you could ever ask for, he’s done the most to make sure you’re doing well, he’s held your head above the surface of your terrible, shallow pool until you could find your footing more times than you can count.

And, sure, it’s his job to do these things, his duty as your supervisor to act in the team’s best interest, but it isn’t his job to walk you to your car in the garage every evening. It isn’t his job to bring takeout to your front door after a hard case, and it isn’t his job to hold your hand in a big crowd so you don’t get separated, or button up your coat for you when you can’t get the button aligned with the opposing slit, or call you each morning to ask how you slept.

You know he’s behind you before you turn. An itchy blanket is draped over your lap from over your head.

“Where’s your jacket?” Hotch asks, neither kindly nor unkindly.

“It’s in my luggage.”

“I meant, why aren’t you wearing it?” A broad, warm hand smooths over the outer expanse of your upper arm to try and rub some heat back into your skin. “You’re going to get sick. It’s cold in here.”

“I don’t know,” you respond, saturnine, with words sticky like taffy in your mouth.

He settles into the chair beside you, passing over a plate with a still-warm scone from the buffet room across the lobby. Twin mugs of tea are placed on the glass patio table between you. The legs of the chair screech in protest as he turns it so his body angles towards yours, his elbows on his knees and his palms pressed flat together. His voice, when it comes, bleeds with the gentleness, the softness, he might use with a small, skittish animal that will startle and flee if he’s too loud.

“Look, I’ve been thinking, and if you want to put in a request for a transfer, I can have it processed by the time we get back to Quantico. I don’t want you to be unhappy, don’t say that you’re not, I know you are. You don’t need to keep suffering because you think you have some obligation or loyalty to the team.”

“Who says I’m suffering?” It comes out thickly, tone teasing the edge of wounded. You recoil at yourself and shake your head. “I’m not. I’m not unhappy, either. I love the team. I love…” You blink and suck in a breath. “I stay because I want to.”

“You must consider me to be—” he sighs and takes your hand into his own, brings your knuckles to his mouth, a ghost of his lips against your skin, “so bad at my job if you think I can’t read my own team.”

“I didn’t say that, Hotch,” you murmur.

He laughs. Your mood brightens marginally with the sound. “You didn’t say it, but you must’ve thought it.”

It’s hard to not want it. He’s done everything right. He’s hooked his kind claws into your tender, wanting flesh and you’ve no desire to get away, even if it hurts, even if it means the puncture wounds will have you bleeding to death right here in front of him. Or, a hand reaching into the gaping cavity of your chest, latching onto your heart and tugging and tugging and tugging till fibers stretch and fray and split, and what else can you do but sit still and let it happen?

The same hand opens doors for you and makes your coffee just the way you like it and touches you with reverence. And is that what this is, reverence? Love? To seek to dissect bit by bit, to pull you apart till but your innermost pieces are left? To flay and open you up with a neat incision, and force a loving hand between the gaps in your ribs and lay a gentle head upon your raw chest to hear, to feel his name thrumming in time with your heartbeat?

No, that is not love, but you love him still. Indubitably, irrevocably, impossibly so. It’s a harsh, mocking finger jabbed into your sternum, and it’s not something that you think you can come to terms with.

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ But The Night, He Calls Me — Bruce "Batman" Wayne x GN Civilian!Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

It was hard to imagine a time where anything noteworthy in Gotham didn't happen during a dark and stormy night. The city was a pretty big pull for raincoulds, low hanging fog, and a general morose look. But above all else, it was your home, though you didn't prefer to walk out at night these days. With the notoriously shoddy work of the GCPD and crime rates almost triple as high compared to the neighboring cities, you didn't exactly feel the wet concrete and dark alley corners beckoning you anytime soon.

The roof, however, was a different matter. Your roof— or, well, the roof to the apartment complex you lived at— became a frequent spot to the one man who could ever make a dent in Gotham City crime. The very same man you could see perched on the edge of the parapet right now. You approached slowly, taking careful steps as to not make a sound. After painfully long moments of inching, you were almost close enough to reach out. You shuffled just a bit more, preparing to make yourself known-

"Go back inside" the dark figure cut in, low gravelly voice clear and familiar. You sighed deeply, giving up and moving to step up to the vigilante's side "How do you always do that?". "I'm a detective, it's my job" the Batman said flatly. You leaned against the parapet he was standing atop "It's uncanny is what it is. After all these months you'd think I'd be able to get the drop on you at least once". "Villains who have been chasing me since the beginning of my career haven't managed it either, don't be too discouraged" Batman replied.

You chuckled a little, looking over the edge of the roof. The crime fighter's dry humor was a reason the two of you got along so well. After meeting by chance a few times, it became a more regular occurrence to meet up like this. Sometimes you'd get to see him spring into action, or maybe even return from a fight. But tonight, it seems, was uneventful. "Slow day?" You asked. "There's never a slow day in Gotham," Batman responded "You just need to know where to find the action". You couldn't help but snort a little at the claim "Okay, tough guy, so why haven't you set off yet?". "There's no point to a stakeout if you jump in before the crook" Batman said, and you gave a thoughtful nod in reply.

"You should really go back inside" the caped crusader spoke up "It's late. You've got work, I'm sure". "Got the day off, actually, detective" You responded "And I can't sleep knowing there's a bat on my roof". That got a faint hum from the dark knight, the closest you got to an amused reaction from him. The wind picked up from the just-passed storm, bringing a chill that bit your cheeks and clung to your clothes in one large wave. You couldn't help but shiver, tugging your jacket tighter around your pajamas.

Batman kept his gaze on the streets below, watching as puddles rippled with the last few drops from the sky and lamps flickered from lack of care. He was in tune with every foot of concrete road, attuned to any and every movement. The only thing that pulled his attention was when feeling his long billowing cape being tugged. His head looked over, seeing you wrapping the inky black fabric around your shoulders. "What- what are you doing" Batman asked, mildly confused. "It's not really fair that you're the only one that gets to wrap up in this thing" you said, scooting closer to him for more coverage.

"I do that to cloak myself" Batman countered, sliding off the parapet to be standing on the top of the roof beside you. "Right. And I'm using it to warm myself" you said casually, shuffling to his side. You honestly expected him to give some gruff, witty comment and snatch the cape back. If it were any other situation, with any other person, maybe he would have. But instead, he just looked back to the streets, using an arm to hold out more of the martial for you. You smiled, tucking fully into his side and now being fully wrapped up. "Better?" Batman asked, avoiding looking down at you. You nodded, leaning on his shoulder "A lot, yeah. Thanks, Bats"

Batman gave a short 'hm' in response, going back to being silent. But he kept an arm around your lower back, keeping you held close to his frame. As much as he was trying to avoid it, it did poor things to his heart to see you shivering in the cold because of him. He very briefly placed his chin atop your head, using his free hand to tap your shoulder. "Ten minutes. Then you're going back to bed"

"Fine, fine" you said, nuzzling up to him a bit more "Ten minutes". Batman hesitated a little, before allowing himself to wrap his arms around you fully. He gave you a brief but strong embrace, letting you soak up his warmth just for now. He could spare ten mintues. It's not like any villain could outrun him for long, anyways.

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 3

Max Fewtrell x Norris!reader

Lando norris x sister!reader

Summary: You and max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

series masterlist | previous | next

-

f1gossip

76.639 likes

f1gossip Carlos Sainz has been spotted at the nice airport, allegedly picking up Lando Norris sister, Yn norris. She just came back from a trip in Australia with Daniel Riccardo.

user doesn’t lando normally pick her up?

user maybe he didn’t have time?

user he said on stream yesterday that he has nothing to do today

user hm weird

user norris and sainz best duo

user is she dating daniel now??

-

You knock on Landos door, hoping he’ll answer. You had brought your stuff home and were now standing outside his apartment. He still hasn’t answered any of your calls or texts but read them, so you knew he was awake.

The door opened and he looked at you. His face distorted into annoyance “What do you want?” “Talk” “I don’t wanna talk to you” “That’s not fair. You didn’t give me even a chance to explain what happened. Lando, please” He shakes his head “Just let me be”

“Lando please” You stop the door from closing. He squeezed his eyes shut “give me a few days, okay? I’ll text you. Go home” With that he closed the door in your face.

Defeated you take out your phone and dial Kikas number.

“Yn? What’s up” “Hey alex, do you have time tomorrow?” “of course, why? what happened?”

“Lando just shut me out. He didn’t even let me explain what actually happened.” Alexandra sighed “Should we meet at a cafe? restaurant?Do you want me to come over to your apartment?” “I’ll send you a spot. You can bring leo if you’d like”

“Definitely. You could use the distraction” “Alright, see you tomorrow ” “See you tomorrow”

-

You and Alexandra sit down in a more quiet corner and order your drinks and food.

“So? Spill. What exactly happened?” “With Daniel or with Lando?” “Both! I mean, it’s obviously that Lando doesn’t speak to you. He didn’t comment under your post like usual and you called carlos to pick you up from the airport.”

You sigh “Lando doesn’t speak to me because he thinks I have something going on with Daniel, which is bullshit.” “Is it? You guys seemed pretty close. Not to mention the picture of you in his lap” She said sceptical.

“Here, let me show you what actually happened.” You pull out your phone and show her the video one of your other friends had made. It clearly showed that you were kind of pushed onto Daniel and didn’t sit there yourself.

“Oh, well that was definitely taken out of context” You nod “Now Lando doesn’t speak to me and he closed his door on me. He barley gave me time to explain”

“Dickhead” You chuckle “Yeah, but I also kind of understand. I’d also want to know if he would go out with one of my friends. I know i’m not with Daniel but that is what he is believing at the moment. He thinks I lied to him.”

“Would you tell him about Daniel if there was something to tell?” You think for a moment “Hiding it would be worse, no? It would be hard but I guess..” You say looking down.

“What is there you’re not telling me? There’s a missing piece. You look to guilty my love” You groan “I used to have a crush on one of his Friends okay? He rejected me because i’m landos sister.” Alex looks at you, kind of stunned at your confession.

“Who?” “Does it matter?” “Now you brought it up, yes” “You kind of brought it up” “It’s bothering you. I promise I won’t tell.” You sigh “Max”

“Verstappen? I mean that’s not to bad” “No, Fewtrell. His best friend.” “Oh.”

You look at her “Daniel knows. We kind of talked about it. To be honest, I kind of ran away from him.” “How so?” “We talked about Fewtrell and… God this is embarrassing”

“No, hey its okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” “No no, I need another opinion on it.”

“Okay” “I asked Max to take my virginity” “What?!” You look around alarmed at her loud voice “Shh, don’t need anyone to hear” “Sorry, but what?!” She said in a hushed scream.

“He rejected me, but told me he liked me and would date me if I wasn’t Lando’s sister.” “Oh my god. And how does daniel play in this except that you told him?”

“He brought it up again and well..I told him I’m still a virgin” Alexandra stared at you “Your what? You’re gorgeous and..have you ever had a boyfriend?”

“Nothing to serious” She leans back in her seat “Holy shit. You really have a book perfect story huh?” You roll your eyes “sure. now what do I do? I mean, Lando thinks I lied to him. I didn’t.”

“Give him a few days and try again. He loves you, i’m sure he’ll want to resolve this too.” You nod.

“That felt good to tell, but you have to promise not to tell charles” She nods “I promise. I know he’ll ask about you and daniel. What do I say?” “Tell him we’re not a thing.” She nods “Okay”

yn added to their story

alexandrasaintmleux added to their story

[yn cap: fav lunch date 🤍] [Alex cap: Leo’s fav aunt is back in town 🩷]

-

Texts between you and Daniel

Carlos and Lando

You and Lando

-

You look up at Alexandra “He wants to talk, Oh tja k god” “Lando?” You nod “We’re meeting for dinner tonight.” She smiles “See? It’ll be fine.”

You nod “I hope so. I can’t fathom ever losing him just because the media is poking in stuff that isn’t theirs.” “They’re the worst.” She looks at her phone “Oh, it’s already late. I still have some things to do.” “Me too. Need to unpack my stuff.”

“You still haven’t done that?” You shake your head laughing “I was to tired” She chuckled “I get it”

-

Later that evening you make your way to the restaurant. You were kind of nervous to see Lando.

You go inside and look around. You spot Lando sitting at a table looking rather nervous. He spots you and waves you over. You make your way over to him “Lando” He smiles a bit “Sit, I think we need to talk” You nod “We do”

“First of all, I’m sorry for being so mistrusting.. I just thought you lied and..” He sighs “Hey, no it’s okay. But I promise, it’s not how it looks.” He nods “I know. Carlos sent me the whole video” He says quietly.

You nod “And me and Daniel have nothing going on.” He looks up at you “So nothing happened?” “No, not really” “Not really? So something did happen?”

“No?I..Well I fell asleep on his chest while we were absolutely wasted and got back to his place. But it’s not like I haven’t fallen asleep on Daniel before, right? You were there” He nods “Yeah”

“I would tell you if Daniel and I were something, really.” He nods unsure “I know, it’s just so confusing and Max said-“ “Max? Of course” You roll your eyes “Sont be like that” “Like what? He always goes into my business. Let me guess he told you that I have something with Daniel?”

Lando hesitated “He told me Daniel likes you.” He paused “More than a friend kind of way.” You raise an eyebrow “And he would know that how?”

“Just how Daniel acts around you” “How?”

“Touchy, and all that” “He’s like that with everyone. Look at him and Verstappen. Are you gonna call kelly and tell her, oh daniel fancies your boyfriend?” You say, your voice having an edge to it.

“That’s different.” “Why? Because he’s a man?” “Kind of, yeah” “Jesus Lando. Don’t you trust me?” “I do. I’m not sure I trust Daniel.” “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can” “Then believe me when I say we’re not a thing.” Lando nods “I’m sorry” You sigh “It’s okay. You just..reacted the way probably most people would’ve in your situation”

“So we’re good?” “We’re good, yes” He smiled “Okay, good. So you’re coming to the last triple header, right?” You chuckle “Sure, if that’s what you want” He nods “I do”

-

yn added to their story

landonorris added to their story

[yn cap: everywhere he wears that stuff, it’s annoying] [ lando cap: she’s questioning ever agreeing to this]

-

f1gossip

37.639 likes

f1gossip Lando Norris was greeted by some fans in monaco this evening. After being asked about his sister, the brit said that they are fine. This was later on confirmed when the sibling pair posted on their individual story’s which featured each other. Safe to say that nothing gets between the famous Norris duo!

user thank god

user so glad they’re okay. Couldn’t have handled a fall out of these two over a man

user right? Daniel has nothing on them, sorry not sorry

user we don’t even know what happened

user it’s kinda obvious, no?

user love them sm

user hope we’ll see her at the triple header!!

-

I know the making up is a bit rushed but I couldn’t stand to have that much drama here. We’ll see what max says and let’s not forget about daniel..👀

this is a bit short i’m sorry

posting early cause I already wrote the next 2 parts

I DONT DO TAGLISTS, pls turn on notifications or something because tagging doesn’t work on my app smh?🧍🏼‍♀️

[vaspider]

Spider, can I ask you and your followers for some input in a situation? I want some unbiased opinions, especially from parents of adult kids (bonus if your adult kids are disabled). I've tried to be as unbiased as possible and include both sides. I am aware that you're under no obligation to actually answer, but I'm hoping that if you're not able to provide any input, then one of your followers might be able to.

TLDR at the end.

The context:

Basically, I am an adult in my late 20s. I haven't lived with my parents since they threw me out at 19 for being diagnosed with autism and they were told that I wasn't capable of living independently without years of occupational therapy. I was homeless for 13 months. Like literally two days later, they dropped me off at work, confiscated my house keys, and said to find somewhere else to sleep because I wasn't coming back home. (My parents insist that I wasn't actually homeless because I already had my current job and was able to afford to stay at a youth homeless shelter. I say "what the fuck do you think Homeless Shelter means??") After that, I was able to get a government grant for chronically homeless youth that allowed me to get a room in a student housing complex. It's not dorms, but it works like a dorm. I do have a private room.

My bedroom of my apartment is a mess. My bedroom has always been a mess. I have AuDHD and multiple disabilities, including extreme fatigue so that's not unexpected. During lockdown, it was especially bad. I had to move out of my last apartment in 2021 because one of my roommates was a bigot and my building wanted a new tenet so they could charge more rent, so between the two of them, they forced me out for being a "safety concern" due to the mess (the roommate did things like lie and say I didn't bathe, even though I was literally still wet from the shower). My parents ended up helping me pack up my stuff and move to a new place. I've been here for a few years and my roommates here have always been okay with the mess because it stays confined to my room.

(Also I wrote this at like 5AM and I'm half asleep but I wasn't going to be able to go back to bed until I ask someone unbiased. So please excuse any typos, and I hope everything makes sense and nothing came out as gibberish because sometimes by brain refuses to Word Good.)

The problem:

My mother decided when I moved in that my dad was going to be inspecting my bedroom in order to make sure it's clean. He's been putting her off but she's been on his ass about it for three years so he's finally caved and said that next time he's here to bring me something (I cannot drive due to disabilities), that he would be inspecting my room.

I do not want my room inspected. I've been very clear about that since day one. Yes, my room is a mess, but I'm also a grownass adult. My parents say that since they've given me some money for my rent over the past few years that they're entitled to inspect my room. I say that it's a violation of my autonomy. My room is my safe space. My mother is an obsessively clean person so growing up, my room wasn't really mine, and everything had to be to her standards whether I liked it or not (including things like what color I paint my furniture that I owned).

My parents do not care about my boundaries, and would say that since I've proven incapable in the past (re: because I'm disabled, not that they'd ever admit it), that they're trying to protect me by keeping me from being kicked out again.

I am skeptical about this and believe it's more about controlling me (see: throwing me out for having autism and just generally being extremely controlling my entire life). My parents have refused to stop giving me money for my rent every now and then (I have a job and pay at least the majority of my rent, but there are some months where business is slow and I don't get many hours, and no one wants to hire me because I act Autistic and use a cane) and I end up short. I have resolved to do everything I can to not need their help, including having my sister pick up my prescriptions, in order to avoid my parents coming over and inspecting my room.

Also, my building already does quarterly inspections and they've always been okay with my room, but I know my room won't be to my parents' standards. I don't have any local friends that I could ask for help cleaning up, but like, I'm a Spoonie. I clean my toilet and then have to go lay down because I'm getting dizzy. I am not making much progress myself.

The question:

Are my parents right? Have I shown that I cannot be trusted to keep my room clean, thus entitling them to come inspect it to make sure it's not a mess. They will definitely yell at me and have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if my room is a mess or I refuse to let them inspect it? Or am I right to put my foot down and enforce my boundaries?

Side note, my parents have a history of being abusive and controlling. That's something I had to prove to the government to get my grant. They would insist that it's not abuse. Some of it was quite bad but I'm not going to get into it here.

TLDR:

I'm an adult with disabilities who has my own apartment. My parents think they're entitled to come inspect my room to make sure it's clean. I say that it's my apartment and I say no. They have threatened to withdraw what support they do give me if I refuse. Are my parents being unreasonable, or am I the one being unreasonable for refusing?

Your parents have no right to inspect your room. You are an adult. This is your apartment, not theirs. Your mother is wrong. Your parents are being invasive. I think they think they're being reasonable bc they care about your well being, but they aren't respecting your autonomy.

Sometimes, being a parent means you gotta let your kids not do things the way you would or even not do things the way that is best for them. It's hard, but it's necessary.

If you still lived with your parents and your lack of cleanliness was affecting their lives, it might be different ... but this is just your parents being fucking weird.

[duhshereadz]

More Arcane head cannons because I can’t stop:

---

Jinx (Powder)

- She has a habit of giving her bombs cute names, like “Boomy” or “Snappy,” and talks to them as if they’re her friends.

- She bites her nails so much that she paints them just to make herself stop, but the paint usually gets chipped after a day.

- She doodles all over her arms when she’s bored, even though she knows it’ll smudge.

- Jinx absolutely hates vegetables, but she’ll eat them if you lie and call them “explosion fuel.”

- She has a surprising knack for sewing and will patch up her stuffed toys obsessively.

- She hums offbeat, made-up songs when tinkering, and sometimes they turn into actual catchy tunes.

- Jinx would totally put googly eyes on her weapons for no reason other than to make herself laugh.

- She hoards random shiny objects and insists they’ll be “important later,” even if it’s just a bottle cap.

- She’s constantly barefoot because she hates the feeling of shoes.

---

Vi

- Vi makes terrible coffee but drinks it anyway because she’s convinced it gives her “character.”

- She’s surprisingly superstitious and always knocks on wood when she feels like she’s jinxed something.

- Vi collects random keychains from places she visits and hangs them all over her belt like trophies.

- She pretends not to care about her hair, but she secretly spends time making sure it’s styled just the right amount of messy.

- She gives people nicknames that have nothing to do with their real name.

- Vi can’t whistle, and it drives her nuts when others do it effortlessly.

- She’s an amazing dancer but will only admit it when she’s had a few drinks.

- Vi always takes up too much space on couches, sprawling across them without a care.

- She secretly loves fluffy, cozy blankets and has a stash of them in her room.

---

Caitlyn Kiramman

- Caitlyn cannot function without a proper breakfast, and she gets cranky if she misses it.

- She’s weirdly good at chess, but she plays so competitively that no one likes going up against her.

- Caitlyn absolutely has a planner and writes everything in it, even things she doesn’t actually need to remember.

- She’s awful at video games and gets super flustered when she loses, which makes Vi tease her endlessly.

- Caitlyn secretly loves cheesy romance novels but keeps them hidden on a high shelf.

- Her guilty pleasure is eating dessert before dinner when no one is looking.

- Caitlyn’s handwriting is ridiculously neat, but she gets annoyed if anyone compliments it too much.

- She’s terrible at telling jokes, but her deadpan delivery somehow makes them funny anyway.

- Caitlyn refuses to wear mismatched socks—ever. It would ruin her whole day.

---

Jayce Talis

- Jayce is a terrible cook and once managed to burn water, but he insists he’s “just experimental in the kitchen.”

- He talks to himself when working, narrating every step like he’s in a tutorial video.

- Jayce has a stash of energy drinks he tries to keep secret because he knows they’re unhealthy.

- He always takes forever to get ready because he’s obsessed with looking polished, even if he’s just going to his lab.

- Jayce is weirdly good at folding fitted sheets, but he keeps that talent to himself.

- He tries to keep plants in his apartment for “aesthetic reasons,” but they always die within a week.

- Jayce collects notebooks but never fills them out because he “doesn’t want to waste them.”

- He has the worst poker face and can’t lie to save his life.

- Jayce has an elaborate skincare routine and won’t go to bed without following it.

---

Viktor

- Viktor sometimes forgets to eat while working, so he keeps random snacks hidden in his desk drawers.

- He’s the type to re-read books he’s already memorized just because it brings him comfort.

- Viktor hums classical music under his breath when he’s deep in thought.

- He’s absurdly good at mental math and sometimes mutters equations when he’s bored.

- Viktor absolutely talks to his tools and machines, even apologizing to them when they malfunction.

- He hoards broken parts or failed prototypes because he thinks he might use them “someday.”

- He doesn’t drink coffee, preferring tea, but it’s always cold by the time he remembers to drink it.

- Viktor sleeps in the weirdest positions, like half-falling off the bed but somehow comfortable.

- He’s lowkey very sentimental, keeping tiny mementos from his childhood in Zaun.

---

Silco

- Silco keeps his surroundings ridiculously neat and loses his temper if anything is out of place.

- He’s surprisingly good at card games but gets irritated when people accuse him of cheating.

- Silco never, *ever* lets anyone touch his chair in the office. It’s his throne.

- He prefers bitter drinks and thinks anything sweet is “a waste of time.”

- He secretly practices his speeches in front of a mirror to make sure he sounds menacing enough.

- Silco keeps a journal, but it’s filled with cryptic notes that only make sense to him.

- He absolutely hates bright colors and insists on everything being muted or dark-toned.

- Silco’s a night owl who rarely sleeps, and when he does, he can fall asleep sitting up.

- He secretly enjoys playing mind games just to see how long people take to figure it out.

---

Ekko

- Ekko is the type to doodle on absolutely everything, from walls to random scraps of paper.

- He always carries a deck of playing cards with him, and he’s amazing at sleight-of-hand tricks.

- Ekko has a sweet tooth and will go out of his way for pastries or candy.

- He has an old, beat-up notebook full of his plans and ideas, but it’s barely legible to anyone else.

- Ekko’s ridiculously good at climbing, treating it like a sport even when he doesn’t need to.

- He likes making little gadgets just for fun, like wind-up toys or tiny flashlights.

- Ekko is a surprisingly good dancer, but he only busts out moves when the mood strikes.

[justrookthings]

Sorry for the Emmrich content invading my tumblr space that was meant more for my Rooks... I love him so much it's hard for me to stop. As an apology here are my headcanons for all Rook x Companion modernized dates 🥰

Bellara

Take her to your local Library that has a Cafe and just spend the whole day with her between the romance section and the non-fiction section. Be prepared to hold a lot of books for her. Maybe stop by the arcade on the way home? But make sure to take your Polaroid camera with you because if there is an interesting abandoned building nearby she will to want to explore that, too. Wear something comfy. Jeans, hoodie (if it's cold), pack an extra hoodie because she probably forgot hers.

Davrin

First he'll probably take you to the gym, because he's excited to show you how much he can bench press while he's talking about how much of a dog person he used to be until he adopted his cat. Afterwords he will take you to the park and start talking about the farm his uncle pretty much raised him on before he joined the military. Eventually he will take you to his place for the ultimate test: Wether or not the cat likes you. Once you pass that, he'll turn on the grill.

Emmrich

You probably met him at the Library, so he will likely find this a comfortable place to meet with you a few times until he decides one day to take you on a real date at some fancy expensive place you can maybe not afford. He keeps insisting on paying for the meal "it's really no trouble, trust me" and refuses to show you the bill. Then he will take you for a drive, except he's not driving, his butler/chauffeur/manservant Manfred will be. He might talk a bit about himself but he will mostly do so to ask questions about you instead. He takes you to his "small homely" estate and completely passes the home theater, bar, and pool to show off his personal library.

Harding

She's a country gal! She doesn't care for fancy dinners or expensive wines. She might act like she does initially because she's a people pleaser, but she can't fake it forever. She takes you to a cheese shop and gets the stinkiest cheese she can find and insists you try some with her. Then she'll probably reveal she'd rather go hiking or camping instead of fancy dinner dates. But real hiking and real camping with compasses and maps, fire starters, a small tent, sleeping bags, and an old emergency Nokia just in case. Then you get to find out who the real Harding is as she's showing off her yodeling skills at the top of a mountain (non snowcapped), and her bow skills.

Lucanis

The first date might be to Olive Garden on your recommendation, but he will scowl one too many times at the wine selection and the food then insist on taking you someplace better. He takes you to a very expensive looking Italian restaurant with "actually authentic Italian" food. And even though you show up in jeans and a nice sweater (because you were dressed for Olive Garden, not a reservation-only restaurant) they recognize Lucanis and immediately allow the both of you in. Turns out that this is his family's restaurant. They only judge you for a month or so for trying to take Lucanis to Olive Garden.

Neve

She's a private investigator and it's likely she won't have a lot of time for dates. Either they are few and far between or she gets up and leaves in the middle of an awkward one because she was thinking about the case. As such, dinner dates are discouraged and she prefers taking a walk in the park and hanging out by the river as she skips stones across the water. When she finally does have free time and isn't thinking about a case, she likes to grab something to eat from a street vendor and people watch for a while. She doesn't seem comfortable talking about herself because she hates answering questions about her involvement in the papers.

Taash

What's the point in dates and small talk? Taash doesn't care for it. They'll take you to their apartment and insist on watching something on Netflix or whatever, laugh about memes/short form videos they found, or, you know, wherever the mood goes. Will take you to meet their mother pretty quickly, because it's "go big or go home." Either you stick around or you don't. Also don't expect them to dress up. Dates should be comfortable.

[apomaro-mellow]

Let's get you that bingo🎉 has anyone requested phone sex yet?

Steddie Bingo Prompot: Phone Sex

Eddie had thought the most hectic things could get were fighting monsters from a parallel dimension but he was wrong. The five months that followed the Spring Break from Hell were the most chaotic of his life. Between healing from his injuries, finding out what the hell happened in California and Russia (goddamn), getting his named cleared, having a diploma thrown in his face, reconnecting with his uncle and friends, being brought into the weird little throng of resident monster hunters, it was all so overwhelming. And that was only half of it. The other half was all Steve Harrington. Eddie figured they'd have some kind of tentative friendship, a mutual respect for each other going forward.

He didn't expect to fall in love.

He also didn't expect Steve to reciprocate. For Steve though, it seemed as easy as breathing. The wrench in the works came when partway through summer, Steve found he'd been accepted at a college. One all the way in Virginia. Within a week of that, Corroded Coffin got discovered and a manager wanted them on the road right away.

Heading west of course.

Just as quickly as they had come together, things tried to pull them apart. But Eddie was tenacious and Steve was steadfast and together they made it work. Mostly through calling. Back in high school, Steve imagined college as bigger parties, looser girls, days running into each other. But reality was better. He stayed in more, with the hopes of getting a call from Eddie. He wasn't doing great in his classes but he wasn't failing either. And since admitting to being an idiot, his pride wasn't too high to attend tutoring sessions.

All to say, life had turned out so differently as he imagined, yet he wouldn't change it for the world. He was in the middle of reading (for fun!) when his phone rang.

"Eddie?"

"Hey angelface."

Steve swooned, suddenly feeling such strong longing. Last time they'd talked, the band was halfway through Wyoming. "Where are you guys now?"

"Just a few miles from Carson City. We convinced Merv to stop for the night."

Steve rolled his eyes. He wasn't the biggest fan of Merv. "He's got you guys all sharing a room again?"

"Actually...the guys decided to go out on the town." Eddie made a drown out sound like he was stretching, probably across a bed.

"Sooo, you're all alone right now?", Steve asked, twirling the cord around his finger.

"Yep. And I assume you're all alone too, handsome?"

"I assume your hand is already down your pants.

I haven’t even gotten to say what I wanna do to you.”

Eddie chuckled on the other end of the line. “Well don’t leave me hangin’, baby.”

Steve hummed in thought as he also got comfortable in bed. “You know what I’ve been thinking a lot about?”

“What’s that?”

“You, me, a really nice hotel room…”

“Hmm, how nice?”

“The nicest. It’s Vegas. There’s a fountain, valets, and you just finished a show, so you’re all amped up.” Steve’s hand went over his jeans and palmed himself, thinking of how Eddie got after performing. “I left the show early, I’m all ready for you in our room.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m in those shorts you like.”

“Oh baby~” Eddie’s voice held a shiver.

“You can’t wait to get on me”, Steve continued. “You’re already on top of me, hard.”

“Fuck yeah, my baby loves when I hump him like an animal”, Eddie growled.

Steve moaned, unzipping his pants. He was about to stick his hand down when he had the bright idea to use the pillow instead. It wasn’t exactly Eddie’s weight on top of him, but it was closer than just his hand. “Yeah”, he sighed. “You’re right on top of me. I’m spreading my legs and your cock’s on mine and it’s so hot and thick, Eddie.”

“Shit.” Eddie whimpered and Steve could tell he was getting close. “Gonna make me cum in my pants again, Stevie?”

“Mmm, you love it", Steve said, hips rolling against the pillow.

"Can't wait to have you again, have you under me again, taking it like you were made for it, fuck."

"I am", Steve breathed out. "I am made for it. Fuck, Eddie, I need you so muuuch."

"You got me baby", Eddie's hand was moving fast, stroking himself up and down and imagining his dick sliding against Steve's.

For a few moments, they simply breathed on the line, listening to each others moans and fantasizing about what they'd do once they were together again. Eddie came first, with a long drawn out groan that brought Steve over the edge too. Then it was just the sound of them panting.

Eddie was the first to speak up once he caught his breath. "You ever thought about spending Christmas in Louisiana?"

Steve smiled. "I'll mark my calendar."

@steddiebingo

Card:

[svsssfrfr]

ngl, I LOVE bingjiu.

But in a toxic way that really dives deep in how they complete eachother, but they also hate eachother.

Modern au where shen jiu and bingge meet by chance and shen jiu HATES bingge but bingge decides this will be the man he marries and decides to flirt with him because it's never not worked before.

And it works, they move in together way too soon in their relationship and shen jiu is only dating him to destroy bingges entire life and bingge is obsessed with this man.

And the moving in together? shit move. Shen Jiu has these nightmares where he'll wake up screaming in the middle of the night and start beating bingge up when he tries to approach shen jiu and shen jiu is just that terrified of sleeping next to a man, 3 weeks after they move in together bingge comes home to find all shen jius stuff gone with no note.

Bingge is that close to actually killing shen jiu out of rage but decides to go out drinking instead, he gets pisssed and when he gets back he finds shen jiu in their house sitting on their bed with another man. Shen jiu did all this just make him mad, taking all his stuff out because he had an episode and was about to leave. And shen jiu would never let bingge even touch him either and he is apalled that he bought a stranger into their house for a one night stand.

Luo Bingge freaks out, he's drunk and about to kill shen jiu, starts strangling him but passes out ontop of shen jiu, shen jiu had passed out and was stuck under bingge.

When bingge wakes up, shen jiu is gone again and he starts to think shen jiu was just a dream or an illusion, because no one would ever choose to leave him, obviously.

And then he sees shen jiu in the street a few days later, bruises still around his neck and bingge finds out that he's still very much in love with shen jiu.

Shen jiu moves back in with bingge and all the sleepless nights are back again, but this time, shen jiu beats bingge up so bad that bingge starts bleeding out after being hot a few too many times in the head, shen jiu takes him to the hospital and stays with him until he wakes up.

Bingge takes this as a sign that shen jiu is in love with him too even though shen jiu never says sorry for beating bingges head in. Shen jiu leaves straight after that and doesn't visit him again or pick him up from the hospital.

when they get back to the apartment, bingge finds out that the locks have been changed and so he climbs up the wal to the balcony and finds out that shen jiu has found a new boyfriend, let them move into bingges apartment and then proceeded to beat up said boyfriend and chuck them out the house.

When bingge comes in through the balcony, shen jiu spits at him and puts out ciggarette on his arm, bingge doesn't mind any of this and gets on his knees and begs to be allowed back into the house because he is just that down bad.

A week later and bingge puts shen jiu in hospital after getting drunk again, bingge can't deal with the guilt and runs away and is about to kill himself when a strange man tells him that he's been asked to take a dna test for a business empire holder.

Shen jiu can't move on from bingge and continues to live in his apartment until he returns, scared bingge might have killed himself or worse, run away from him, he throws all of bingges clothes and belongings out of the window and doesn't replace anything.

When bingge returns he treats shen jiu like shit and even threatens to remove him from bingges apartment and shen jiu punches him and runs away to yue qingyuans house and begs to be taken back by qi-ge.

Yue qingyuan says no because shen jiu has denied him so many times because he was dating bingge and shuts him out.

Bingge finds out that shen jiu is now homeless and wisks him away to live with him in a new, bigger apartment where they continue this cycle a bunch

[violetvines]

Hi can you please make HCs about Nash

yeehaw darlin'

nash hawthorne, the best big brother in the world 🧸

- he snores – he snores very very loudly

- every year on his birthday, he has a solo taylor swift jamming session but one day xander caught him in the act (he was a little bit embarrassed but xander ended up joining in to make him feel better about it)

- after he left hawthorne house, he actually checked in with grayson via voice call every other week to ensure everything was okay (he only really cared about gray, jamie and xan)

- there was once when he stole gray and jamie away on the 22nd of august (jameson's birthday, aka the day tobias hawthorne always wants gray and jamie to compete over something) because "no one should have to compete with their brother on their birthday" and he brought them to an actual outing at a funfair – jameson and grayson will never admit it but that was their favourite shared birthday outing ever (and sadly... one of the only times they had such a thing)

- he wrote a song with his guitar before (inspired by taylor), but he has never let anyone hear it – anyone but libby, who he sang it to in the hospital while she was going through contractions (cheered her up a whole lot)

- one time, he roasted skye really badly (third degree burn kind of badly) just for fun – she was a terrible mother anyways, no take offense

- because he knows libby struggles with self-confidence sometimes, he leaves little notes around their house to remind her how she will always be enough

- he loves how to train your dragon, the first movie came out when he was 11 and that really spurred his interest in horse-riding (if he couldn't ride dragons, the next best thing was horses yeehaw)

- he doesn't get scared easily – once, they went to a haunted house but he didn't even scream... he just said "nice try, darlin'" to one of the ghosts

- his favourite subject is recess – he did relatively well in school, never fell behind, but it wasn't his favourite part of life

- he likes looking at the sky, stargazing and just anything to do with staring at the wide and unlimited canvas of it – when he still lived at hawthorne house, he used to drag out a few blankets to the garden and just lie down thinking about things

- he was a natural at learning to ride his bike and got his license the first try

- he never liked emily – he saw through her, saw how she manipulated everyone around her including his brothers – he always had an intense dislike towards her and sometimes when he looked at her, he wouldn't even try to hide it

𓍢ִ໋ but he couldn't bear to make gray and jamie unhappy, so he kept his suspicions to himself – he did try to tell them he had a bad feeling about it once, but they didn't talk to him the next few days and he figured that addressing the issue outwardly would just make things worse, so he would just quietly keep an eye on things (ofc he didn't know everything that emily had in store for them with the stupid competition of "whoever wins will get to date me" or wtv)

- that's why in some way, he also blames himself a little for the aftermath of emily's death and how they fell apart because he left before it happened and didn't manage to do anything to reduce the damage

- his favourite season is autumn just because he likes the vibes of it

- tiramisu is the hawthorne dog, but he's mainly the one who takes care of her, gives her showers and everything – ofc the staff is there to help but he cleans her up as much as he can, often refusing to let them do it

- he's that kind of guy who will call other guys out if he sees them treating a girl in the wrong way (which is also the main reason why any bar fights involving him break out but he always wins anyway)

- he played basketball when he was a teen and has some really good skillz

[paperyowl]

This is no more weird than the one-bed-trope, okay? xD

Full fic on ao3

+++

"Forget it," Stiles said, and clearly, he's not lying about it not being a big deal. "I can go with a bit of beard for another week or two."

But Stiles had asked so clearly the fact that he couldn't quite get a proper clean shave bothered him enough to think about it. Besides, it was indeed a rather patchy kind of beard. Derek had no doubt that, eventually, Stiles would grow a fine beard, but for now, it was just another sign of how young he still was.

(There was a part of Derek that bristled at that thought, an old wound aching, a fear that he could never quiet entirely - but it pushed that down, pushed that away. Hadn't they talked enough about that yet?)

"No, it's fine, I can do it," Derek insisted, not even making a teasing remark regarding that soft scruff Stiles liked to pretend was a proper beard. He took Stiles's wrist. "Right now?"

Stiles seemed a little surprised at this, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow in a gesture that was entirely stolen . Derek felt it was only right to tease him for that - and Stiles teased right back, the mood lighter than it was before, which was conducive to them actually moving to the bathroom a little later.

Derek collected his kit - telling himself that he opted for the straight razor because it gave a closer shave and would keep Stiles from whining for at least a few days. He didn't let himself examine the fact that something about this was perhaps a little hot to him. That was dangerous, and he really shouldn't let his baser instincts form connections between arousal and sharp objects.

(Not that he wasn't hopelessly lost to Stiles's every whim already. Lydia had used the word 'whipped', and Derek hadn't even bothered to disagree.)

Stiles hopped onto the counter, giving Derek a look that said he knew exactly what he was doing when Derek had to step between his thighs to press the wet towel to his cheeks. His eyes fluttered closed, lips drawing apart with a small, pleased smile.

"You're really going to do the whole spiel," Stiles commented, and Derek shrugged a little. Because, of course, he would do this slowly and properly . This was Stiles. And he was - everything.

"Just want to do it right," Derek said, trying not to say 'I want to take care of you' or worse 'I want to pamper you'. He was certain Stiles could read the words in his smile anyway.

[tulip-room]

ramekins and fondue - m. osamu || wc: 1.4k || tags: next door neighbors -> lovers, pining, notes left on the door, fondue date, fluffy, short and sweet <3 || hq works

It starts out with needing sugar and a tentative knock on a wooden door. “I’m so sorry to bother you,” she says as the door opens and reveals a man behind it. He looks to be in his mid twenties and he’s wearing a loose shirt, his hair is tousled like he just rolled out of bed. “Oh, I’m sorry, were you sleeping?”

“It’s fine, is there something you need?” He lifts up a hand to cover his mouth as he yawns. 

“I need some sugar, if you don’t have any I can go to the store or pay you back or something–” he cuts her off with a small smile.

“I have some, you don’t have to pay me back or anything.” He opens the door wider and beckons for her to follow him inside so she carefully steps over the barrier and closes the door behind her with a click. “Here,” his voice rings out from around the corner as she hears a cabinet creak open and close. He hands her a bag of sugar that has a red clip keeping it closed. “You can have the rest of it, I needed to get more anyway.” She smiles and takes the bag from him with an appreciative nod.

“Thank you, I’ll treat you to coffee or something.” 

“Alright, I’m not home this early most nights but I can maybe squeeze you in during a lunch break on the weekend.”

“Okay,” She closes the door behind her and takes a deep breath. Interacting with people should not be as difficult as it is. It’s just her neighbor and all she’s doing is asking for sugar so she can put it in her coffee. When she closes the door of her apartment she’s greeted by her cat and she immediately sets the sugar on the coffee table and picks him up. “Hi baby,” she kisses his small head and smiles when he starts purring, she sets him down and returns to the kitchen with her bag of sugar and finishes making her coffee. 

The next time she sees him is when a note is posted on her door telling her to come over. She laughs and puts her purse down on the couch before making her way over to his door. She holds the note up and waves it once he opens the door. “I thought you weren’t usually home this early?”

“I can make exceptions.” She rolls her eyes with a laugh and follows him inside of his home. She smells the food and hums with delight. “Did you make me dinner before I even got your name?”

“It’s Osamu.” He jests with her and she lets out a small laugh. He pulls the chair out for her at the kitchen island and pushes it back in once she sits down. “This is what I want for you taking the last of my sugar.”

“To be fair, you never told me when we should meet for coffee and you never asked for anything back.”

“This is what I want, you to have dinner with me.”

“I guess I can accept that.” There is a silence that settles around the room as she watches him finish cooking. His hands move with practiced ease as he goes around the kitchen. She can see his shirt is nicer than she’s used to seeing him wear. Usually he leaves the house in a black shirt that has a few stubborn stains on them although it’s clear the shirt had been washed. He usually wears pajama pants and when she asked him about it one day he said he was going to work. 

“What do you do for work?” She asks as a steaming bowl of food is placed in front of her, her mouth waters slightly and she waits for it to cool down before taking a bite. The flavors melt in her mouth and she hums as she takes another bite.

“I’m a chef, I own my own restaurant actually.” He leans against the counter on the other side and blows on his own bite of food.

“I can’t believe I’m getting this for free,” the statement causes him to laugh and he shakes his head.

“Come by the shop anytime and I’ll set something aside for you.” 

“Aww come on, you can’t show blatant favoritism like that,” she teases and she can feel the smile etch itself onto her face. 

“It’s my restaurant, or you can just come over here. Anytime really.”

“I’ll have to take you up on the offer,” they eat dinner in silence and just as she puts her shoes back on to leave the apartment he stops her. 

“You can stay a little longer if you want, it’s barely dark out.”

“If you insist,” she kicks her shoes off once more and sits on the couch with him. By the end of the movie his arm has found it’s way around her shoulder and her head found its way to his chest. They stay like that even after the credits roll, too scared to move in case the moment ends. She ends up being the first to move as she feels a cramp in her foot. “I suppose I should go home.”

He feels disappointment settle in his chest as he helps her up and walks her to the door. “See you soon?”

“I guess,” she teases and he doesn’t go back into his home until he hears her door lock. 

Over the next few months she’s visited him at the restaurant on days she had computer work. She always pays, and he conveniently cleans tables around her as an excuse to talk but he refuses to say it although they both know it. 

Within six months she feels closer to him than she has to anyone in a long time. She has a coat at his apartment and a toothbrush incase she leaves from his house for work instead of her own. Her table at Onigiri Miya is always clean and empty even during a lunch rush. Both of their friends at frustrated as they refuse to say. 

When she gets home from work she finds a note on her day reminiscent of when they first started doing whatever you want to call what they’re doing. She pulls out her key ring and unlocks his apartment, the lighting is lower than usual and she follows the noises to the kitchen and sets her bag down on the couch. “And what’s all this?” She says behind a poorly contained smile. 

“You aren’t supposed to be here yet,” he glares jokingly at her and turns around with a wooden spoon still in his hand. There are heart shaped ceramic containers on the table with candles under them and pieces of fruit cut and displayed on his nice plates. “Close your eyes and pretend you didn’t see this yet.” She laughs but goes along with it as she sits down at a seat. She can feel a hat be placed on her head and can feel his lips press gently against the skin on her forehead. 

“You’re not sneaky you know.”

“I know.” She hears more pots and pans clash as he rummages with things, hears the clinks of the ceramic against the table and then hears the sound of his chair scraping against the wood. She knows there’s a scratch on the wood from the metal of the chair scraping against it so often. “Okay, you can open you eyes.”

“Do I need to ask what all this is for?” She looks around at the fondue set up with a smile as her chin rests in her hand.

“It’s for your birthday, okay, I admit it.”

“Thank you.”

“Happy birthday darling,” his hand reaches out and skewers a piece of fruit before dipping it in the cheese and extending it out to her. She sighs happily as the taste hits her tongue and she can’t help but shake her head.

“Did you call off work today?”

“Possibly, I’m sure everything is fine. Let’s not talk about work.”

They sit at the table occasionally feeding each other bits of food and Osamu is grateful to his past self for putting down a discardable tablecloth under the food. There’s bits of cheese when he takes it off the table and the dishes sit in the sink when they make it over to the couch to enjoy the rest of their evening.

They don’t need to say what they mean to each other, it’s evident in the way the spare key jingles on her key ring and in the way that there are heart shaped dishes with the price tags still on the bottom in the sink. Love isn’t always something that needs to be said.

taglist (gen, fill out this form) @cheriisae @cherrysurf @hiraethwa @hatsukeii @szyvrue @darthferbert @localgaytrainwreck

this is for the very special, very lovely @solzscribblez as it is their birthday today <33 I hope you're having a wonderful birthday darling and that it's filled with all of your birthday wishes coming true and that you've gotten time to relax and enjoy yourself. I love you and hope you're doing well darling <3

[karizard-ao3]

Any couple of your choosing is stuck inside an elevator!

The way I'm feeling right now, Luigi Mangione x Elon Musk ❤️🩷🤍

But in less seriousness, Yor and Twilight/Loid!

I'm picturing that Anya is at school, but Yor and Twilight have the day off for whatever reason (this is mainly for my own peace of mind - I don't want her all alone in the apartment for who knows how long :( ). Or, Yor has the day off and then Twilight unexpectedly has to go on a mission which requires him to stop at home first. Yor is planning to spend the day trying to cook something edible, so she is just getting back from the grocery store as Twilight is arriving back at the building.

He, of course, puts on a pleasant expression even though his gut is grumbling over this unexpected mission. There are a lot of logistics and he's on a time crunch! He gives her some excuse about needing to get something from the house in order to treat a particularly challenging patient. Yor tries to imagine what weapon he'd use for concussive therapy and concludes that one of their heavy stone bookends might be the most therapeutic (I don't know if they own a set of bookends in canon, but let's say they do).

They get in the elevator together, chatting, and then, on their way up, that is when the power goes out and the elevator stops.

Yor is startled but generally pretty chill about the setback. Loid is Not Having a Good Time™️.

Yor settles in to wait, hoping that the elevator gets back up and running while Loid is climbing the walls because he has a mission.

He wants to open the ceiling hatch and climb up, but let's say for some reason he can't. Perhaps it's padlocked? Why would it be padlocked? I don't know! But he would obviously try to go up the elevator shaft so something has to prevent him so he can enjoy this accidental romantic date with his wife.

Let's blame it on his digestive issues. I mean, I know that half the time he makes them up so he can pretend he's on the toilet for three hours while he does espionage, but sometimes he really does get a tummy ache and this is one of those times. He cannot climb up the shaft because his belly feels yucky because he's so stressed that he can't complete the mission he doesn't want to do in the first place.

Yor is very zen about the whole thing, though, and that starts to rub off on him. She starts going through the groceries and trying to figure out if she got anything that could be used medicinally to help his digestion.

Loid slides down the wall of the elevator until he's sitting on the floor and thanks her but tells her he's all right. He just hates to cancel on a "patient".

She sits down next to him and says the power probably won't be out long. They've had a lot of outages in recent weeks but never longer than a few minutes.

Loid is comforted, but only for about five minutes. Once it's clear the power is not coming back on, he gets antsy again.

Yor starts going through the groceries again and pulls out some bread and cheese and starts making a sandwich. She offers it to Loid, then makes herself one. She is smiling to herself and she tells him a story about how when she and Yuri were orphaned children, they would do rainy day picnics whenever the weather was bad, and eat a picnic lunch inside and how much fun they had making a dreary day more bright. She wishes Anya were here to enjoy the picnic with them, especially since she bought a whole bag of peanuts while she was out.

Loid, as usual, is touched and soothed by her ability to live in the moment and find the good in a situation. He puts his hand over hers and thanks her for being so chill, but he stares at her a little too long and she gets embarrassed. Suddenly, they realize how small the elevator actually is and how close to each other they are. This is hardly a problem for Loid, who is already justifying to himself that continuing to hold her hand is good for the mission. He starts to lean in, but Yor springs to her feet, launches through the hatch, and shimmies up to their floor. She starts hauling the elevator up (maybe there's a manual lever or something. I don't know how old timey elevators work - I also don't really know how new timey elevators work), hyperventilating and also a little mad at herself for running away. She's been curious about kissing Loid and thinking about it sometimes at night, but she is afraid of doing it wrong and disappointing him, so when it looked like he was going to go for it, she bolted.

Now that she's got some distance to think about it, she realizes maybe Loid thinks they should start kissing to sell their ruse better.

Loid is stunned when she wrenches the doors open with her bare hands and, apologizing, frees him from the elevator.

He says it's fine, somewhat bemused by her feat of strength, and they go into their apartment. he grabs whatever he needs for his mission. She is putting the groceries away when he comes out and he can tell she feels embarrassed and confused.

He apologizes if he made her uncomfortable in the elevator.

She says he didn't, she just isn't very confident because she was too busy raising Yuri to do anything else. If kissing is to be a part of their marriage ploy, she will do her best.

Loid is a little taken aback. He tells her she doesn't have to do anything she is not ready for.

She says something about wanting to be ready and they should just do it and closes her eyes so he can kiss her.

But Loid can tell by how she's trembling that she's liable to high kick him in the chin if he's too bold and tries to push it too far. So instead, he kisses her on the cheek and says he'll be home as soon as he can.

Her hand flies to her cheek and her face turns red, but he doesn't see it because now he is hurrying away, his own cheeks burning and his heart hammering in his chest, because maybe he's starting to lose sight of the mission after all.