#him instantly losing track of time when reader leaves the room. he is so real for that

[hersweetrevenge]

as always, fridays are the most blessed day (clean again update 📚) !! and ahhh corey's teen rebellion is off to a great start !! as much as i love the turmoil of corey trying to keep his new life together, and the whirlwind intensity of his and reader's relationship, i also love him just like experiencing new things. i want to vicariously re-experience things for the first time through him lol

His route always ended at the library, loitering until they closed, checking out old cowboy movies he watched when he was little. He hoped they could distract him, keep him company 

i don't need to tell you again how much corey and his comfort cowboy movies mean to me lol but i will anyway. there's something so quaint about his interests, so genuine in the way you just know they really speak to him and bring him comfort when he's lonely because he had nothing else.

spent the rest of the evening on the porch with old lady Joanna, smoking cigarettes and listening to stories about her life. 

ahh my favourites, phil and joanna !! i'm happy to see them again lol i love this idea of him going to them when times are tough and he needs something to do to keep himself occupied. of course he's wary to get to close to them, like he is with everyone, but i want him so badly to start thinking of them kind of like family 🥺

["]I uh.. I know the chickens that laid them.” You giggle at the expression. “You know the chickens? Are they close personal friends of yours?” 

i literally just love the way he talks lol it's such a funny saying that, but i can absolutely hear him say it like that. he has a really specific way of talking and wording things but you always nail it, especially with lines like this !!

 He can tell you think he’s joking, but he doesn’t understand why. He looks at you blankly, trying to get it

again, he's just so earnest !! that's the thing about corey too that people never quite get, but you totally do -- he's awkward but he always knows when he's missed something, he just can't work out what. he can read people well enough, but that doesn't fix the things he doesn't know, it just means he's acutely aware that something has gone over his head.

He's thought about it often, especially on cold nights with a stiff neck, sleeping on the floor of an abandoned house and wishing he hadn’t survived. He thought about things far more destructive than marijuana.

ahhh !! i've been thinking about this since like chapter 2(?) lol it makes so much sense that he wouldn't actually risk getting drugs anywhere, i feel like that's very in character for him when he's been so methodical in keeping off the grid and crafting a new life. but its so interesting to see him acknowledge it from a better place, like he knows he would of if it hadn't been so risky. and just from a reading perspective, i love that it kind of gets resolved from my initial thoughts.

He looks at you with a dark expression, embarrassed and slightly betrayed. 

*sickos voice* yes... ha ha ha... yes !! something about this is so perfect. how adoring he normally is but beneath it there's this very sensitive trauma of never just being normal. he does not do well when he thinks he's being laughed at. i feel like it's all a part of his very obsessive brand of love, he puts his whole heart into it and then gets really hurt if he feels like the subject of his affection isn't 100% on his side.

Then he leans down to put his lips on the bong, looking up at you through his eyelashes as you flick the lighter.

stop, stop, i'm already horny 🫣 something about him being so trusting and vulnerable and adoring. something unassumingly erotic about him. this image will never leave my brain, i'll be thinking about it on my death bed.

You keep your face close to his as he exhales. Then you kiss him, once, twice before pulling away. 

ahhh the inherent intimacy of guiding and closeness and giving someone a first time !! the way he listens exactly and the experience is in your hands. it's a kindness, having no expectations on him because this is new and it can be so special if the love is there. this whole story is full of little intimacies that are so tender and touching. it's what love is all about !!

The way you say you’re strange, it might as well mean I love you.  

and oh how i do love him !! being the weirdo has been the bane of his life, but him finding peace with that (slowly, of course) because the way the reader means it is with so much affection and understanding and it's only ever a good thing that he's strange (aren't we all?)

there's nothing inherently unlovable about him, he's just been told over and over that there is. he's resented being strange but somehow it sounds so sweet coming from reader. once again, that's what love it.

“This is cool,” he says, and giggles. His nerves are electrified

i can't even explain how much it soothed my soul to know that corey had a good first time stoned experience !! 💗💕 living through them vicariously lol and you just know it's beyond what he ever imagined and for once its a good surprise !!

corey would be such a good person to get high with, so long as you know nothing is going to come up and disturb the session. like if only his good emotions got heightened it would be perfect. also just hearing the way he would describe the feeling is so wholesome !!

the way i know it would fix me to have the most stitch-inducing laughing fit with corey. i want him laughing till he cries, actually.

He wants to be inside you. With his cock, yes, as deep as he can get it, but also with his soul.

boner in his pants, but also in his heart 💗 it's all connected anyway, the way he falls in love and the way he wants to be wanted. how he feels everything so deeply that he can never get close enough. how he can be so one-track minded and it makes him put his all into you, his body and soul and mind.

“Tell me something fucked up about you.”

you may as well have just told him he actually smoked the forever weed and 100 people are about to come over 😭

but narratively, i love this !! the stomach drop it gave me because one day i just know reader is going to ask something and corey is high or drunk or sleepy and can't stop himself before he says something he shouldn't of. it's moments like this that keep us on our toes, because no matter how comfortable this relationship feels (and you write the softness of it so well !!), we always have these reminders that corey is fucked up, isn't he?

["]I just kept thinking about it, like I could feel it in there, waiting... They never found out it was me.”

corey having warning signs before the accident and before michael !! i love how he's so drawn into his own story, the way he lives it and remembers how good it felt. but then there's this switch at the end, he's so matter of fact about it -- he doesn't even sound guilty, but the actual consequences (nearly burning the street down) don't really register for him. the fun is in the fire, not in the aftermath. he's such a firebug, you're right 😈💗

“You beat him with the bat?” Corey asks, trying not to sound too excited. You look at him with narrowed eyes, like you’re trying to figure something out. He looks down, not wanting to give himself away. 

oh he's so fucked up, i love him !! he's tasted blood and the want for more is never going away -- i love these more toned down moments that can be played of, but really the violent impulses inside him are just being stoked.

and again, the hints towards 'things are good right now, but how long can they last? how long can corey last before he does something that gives himself away and you get scared of him?'

You’re genuinely dangerous. 

i love this !! i love the sort of ambiguity of intentions. like is reader dangerous enough to not be scared of corey if she found out the truth? or is corey projecting that in the hopes that he doesn't have to give up all of his violent impulses to be with you? or are you dangerous is different ways, and you're just better at drawing the line ??

Clean Again

Chatper 9: SOMETHING FUCKED UP read on AO3 | previous chapter | tumblr chapter index make sure to check AO3 for this fic's playlist and other extras! (see a mini-playlist for this chapter on tumblr here)

A fun night in ends up kinda heavy.

general warnings for this fic - angst, fluff, smut (MDNI), canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore contents/warnings for this chapter - stalking, passing ref to hard drugs, marijuana consumption, arson, assault (non-sexual), passing mentions of sex/arousal

5,152 words

@rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @toxicanonymity @multifandom--mess @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @yllcm @ethanhoewke dm me or reply to this post to be added to the tag list 💕

Thank fuck it’s Thursday.

You and Corey have gone three days or more apart since you started seeing each other. It’s not the length of time so much as it being intentional. It was easier to spend any number of days apart when any second you might text him or call him to ask him to come over. Knowing that text wasn’t coming made Corey fidgety. Last week he was beside himself, riding his bike for hours, on routes that just happened to pass by all the places you regularly go. I was just in the neighborhood. His route always ended at the library, loitering until they closed, checking out old cowboy movies he watched when he was little. He hoped they could distract him, keep him company when he was awake for 37 hours straight. 

This week, to keep himself from sitting outside your apartment just hoping to get a glimpse of you, he called the elderly couple to see if they needed any help. Monday evening after work he rode his bike to the edge of town, following the familiar path as the paved roads gave way to dirt, scattering dogs and chickens as he roared into the yard. In the amber light of late afternoon, he deposited seeds in rows in their vegetable patch, tomatoes and sweet corn and summer squash. Tuesday evening Phil led Corey across several acres, deep into the center of the property, where he’d had to abandon his riding mower after it gave up on him that morning. As a man of a certain age and economic station, Phil knows a thing or two about a thing or two, and he ran Corey through the list of of valves and fluids he already checked before leaving him in the field to figure it out. Corey found the problem but didn’t have the part to fix it, so Wednesday evening on the way out to the farm he stopped to pick it up. Part in hand, the repair was a cinch, and he spent the rest of the evening on the porch with old lady Joanna, smoking cigarettes and listening to stories about her life. 

But he finally gets to see you today. He makes record time from the garage to his apartment, then to yours. He bangs on the door with one hand, holding gifts for you in the other, a fresh bouquet and 18 eggs from Phil and Joanna’s chickens. 

“Eggs?” You ask when he hands them to you.

“Fresh eggs. Free range. Laid just in the last couple days. I uh.. I know the chickens that laid them.”

You giggle at the expression. “You know the chickens? Are they close personal friends of yours?” 

“No,” he says, laughing too. “I just help out on the farm where they live sometimes.”

“Well, thank you. That's really cool. I can’t wait to eat these. Send my regards to the girls,” you joke, placing them in the fridge.

The task he’s assigned himself tonight is oiling all the hinges and tightening all the knobs on your cabinet doors. Something you could easily do yourself, but he’s come to the point where he's scraping for projects, and he's more than happy to take care of it for you. He gets started while you fill an old peanut butter container with water for your flowers. They spill lazily over the wide mouth of the jar as you place it in the center of your kitchen island, a posture you mimic as you lean against the edge and watch him work.

“You do have a vase,” Corey says when he gets to the cabinet under the sink. He sets down his screwdriver and pulls something out. A glittery object that caught his eye deep in the shadows. 

“I do?” You ask, confused.

He holds up a glass vessel, 10 inches tall, with a big belly bottom that tapers into a narrow tube towards the top.

“Corey!” You snort. He can tell you think he’s joking, but he doesn’t understand why. He looks at you blankly, trying to get it, and watches your face change as the realization dawns on you. “Oh! You really don’t know?”

“It’s not a vase?” He asks, turning it around in his hands. “It is weird that it has a hole in it, I guess.” He puts the tip of his pinky in the opening in the vessel’s belly.

“It’s a bong, Corey. A water pipe. For smoking. It’s just missing a couple pieces.”

“Don’t you only smoke cigarettes sometimes at bars?” Corey asks, still not fully grasping the concept.

“I don’t smoke tobacco out of it,” you say slowly. 

“Oh…” he breathes, eyes widening in recognition. Corey had some inkling that there were different kinds of pipes people use for smoking weed, but he’d never seen one before now. At the parties he snuck out to in high school everyone had just smoked joints. 

He’s always been curious, but when Momma was still alive he had been too worried about how she would react if she found out, her bloodhound nose easily defeating paltry pieces of gum and spritzes of cologne. Since he’s been on the run it hasn’t seemed like a good idea to seek out drugs. He's thought about it often, especially on cold nights with a stiff neck, sleeping on the floor of an abandoned house and wishing he hadn’t survived. He thought about things far more destructive than marijuana. But he’d never bought drugs before and an interaction with an undercover cop seemed like way too big of a risk. 

“Do you smoke a lot?” He asks

“Not so much lately.” You shrug. “I think I still have some though.”

“Could we…? Do you have the missing pieces?”

“Yeah, if you’re sure you want to,” you say, face shifting from surprised to amused. Corey nods. “Okay. That needs to be washed because it’s been under the sink for a while.”

He turns to the sink and runs the water while you go into your bedroom. He hears you opening drawers and clinking glass objects while he washes the bong, using a sponge on the outside and a bottle brush on the inside, unsure of how thorough he should be.

“Put like, two inches of cool water in the bottom and meet me in here,” you instruct, standing in the archway with your hands full.

In the living room you’re lighting candles. On the coffee table he sees an ashtray, a little canister full of weed, two glass objects he assumes are the missing pieces, and another container. 

“I didn’t realize it was so involved,” he says. 

“It’s what you make it. I want you to have a good first time,” you say. 

You move to your sound system. You start to put a record on the turntable but change your mind, pulling something up on your phone instead. Gentle indie music fills the room. Corey sets the bong on the coffee table and sits down on the couch while you draw the curtains and turn on a lamp. He’s excited and a little nervous. 

He likes drinking well enough. His only experience being out at a bar is the Halloween party at Velkovsky’s, which ended badly, but he’d had a good time before he bumped into Mrs. Allen. Other than that he’d had a beer here and there, getting buzzed extremely quickly thanks to his practically non-existent tolerance. And there have been a couple nights with you since he started sleeping over, the two of you sitting at your dining table with a bottle of sweet white wine, getting progressively worse at Scrabble. He likes the numb feeling, everything happening without really happening. Pot can’t be that different, right?

You pop the top off the mystery container and Corey sees it’s filled with metal teeth. He watches as you break apart a little ball from the canister, a “nug” you call it, and lay it over the teeth. Your fingers work delicately but deliberately. You put the lid back on and hand it to him.

“Twist,” you say. He does as he’s told. You put one of the glass pieces in the hole in the side of the pipe, then reach out to take the grinder back. As you open it he realizes it has multiple chambers that unscrew independently, a nice design thing he appreciates. You pinch a little pile of shreds out of the chamber, dropping them into the other glass piece, which looks like a tiny goblet with a handle. 

“This is the bowl,” you tell him. “To hit the bong, you gotta start with the bowl in the downstem.” You drop the bowl into the hole in the side of the bong, then pick the whole thing up with your left hand. You explain the process of lighting the bowl, inhaling, and clearing the bong. 

“That sounds easy enough,” Corey says. 

“It’s deceptive. It’s not like cigarettes,” you say. Then you take a hit to demonstrate. “Breathe deep, with the bottom of your lungs.” Your voice sounds dark and warped around the smoke. Then you release a huge plume toward the ceiling. 

You hold the bong out to Corey and he accepts it.

“I should probably light it for you, your first time,” you say, holding up the lighter.

Corey nods his head. He closes his eyes and tries to empty his lungs completely. Then he leans down to put his lips on the bong, looking up at you through his eyelashes as you flick the lighter. Everything goes well until he pulls the bowl to clear the pipe. He panics immediately, coughing and putting the bong on the table still filled with swirling smoke. He coughs so hard tears come to his eyes. You look at him with a combination of pity and mirth.

“What the fuck!?” He chokes, wiping his eyes.

“It’s deceptive!” You say, suppressing a laugh. “Are you okay?” 

He looks at you with a dark expression, embarrassed and slightly betrayed. 

“Poor baby,” you pout.

Poor Baby. His breath hitches. Even hearing it sarcastically, the pet name strikes him hard. Twice as hard as the other week when you called him sir. Since he’s been in the south the occasional old lady has called him some term of endearment in a grandmotherly way. It always flusters him, the way these women so casually dole out maternal affection, something his own mother wielded like a weapon. But no one has ever, ever called him baby like that. He’s grateful that the coughing fit gives him an excuse for being so red.

“There is a way that might be easier,” you coo. “You can get it second hand.” 

Corey clenches his jaw. He doesn’t know what you mean, but you seem to want him to guess. You sit there patiently. 

“Show me,” he finally says.

Grabbing the pipe from the coffee table, you take a much bigger hit than before. He’s astounded at the apparent capacity of your lungs. You hold it in as you lean closer to him. When the tips of your noses almost touch you say one word in your growly smoke-filtered voice.

“Inhale.”

Then you blow the smoke into his face in a long, even stream.

Corey inhales and fills his lungs, breathing to the bottom like you told him to. He closes his eyes  and hears you taking another massive hit as he exhales. You lean back into him, so close that your lips brush his on the second syllable.

“Inhale.”

Corey parts his lips and you breathe into his mouth. You keep your face close to his as he exhales. Then you kiss him, once, twice before pulling away. 

“How do you feel?”

“Uh…” He feels very flustered but he doesn’t think it has much to do with the weed. “Normal?”

“Give it a couple minutes,” you say, nodding. Then, sort of suddenly, “There’s so much you haven’t done, isn’t there?”

Ostensibly it’s a question, but you know Corey well enough to know it’s a statement of fact. Of course there’s a lot he has done, things that most people never will. Most people will never look evil in the eye. Most people will never commit a murder, on accident or on purpose, much less 10 of them. Most people will never meet a beautiful girl while they live in hiding, waiting every day for the other shoe to drop. But none of it’s the kind of thing you can put on your resume. He's painfully aware of how sheltered he was for most of his life. 

“You’re a strange man, Corey Carpenter,” you say. The sound of his fake name from your lips stings, but your tone soothes him. The way you say you’re strange, it might as well mean I love you.  

Corey swallows hard. His mouth is dry and his tongue feels huge. Why is his mouth so dry? His lips stick together. “Can I have something to drink?” He asks hoarsely. 

“Cotton mouth huh?” You say, patting his knee. “It’s working.” 

You go into the kitchen and Corey hears you making two glasses of water. It seems like you’re gone forever, like each second lasts a year, like the world is in slo-mo. His heart rages against his ribcage. His head feels like a helium balloon, floating up and bumping against the tall historic ceilings, so far away even the string is out of reach. He thinks about calling your name, and feels like it takes several business days for his mouth to actually follow through. 

You pad in from the kitchen with the waters. You’ve been gone for 90 seconds. He calls your name just as you come into view, and he feels like he’s done a magic trick.

“How do you feel?” You ask again, handing him his glass.

“Weird,” he says.

“Good weird, or bad weird?”

“I can’t tell.” He looks at you for guidance. “I think I can feel my skin more than usual.”

“Congratulations!” You exclaim. “You’re stoned!”

You sit down behind him on the couch. He tries to turn to face you, but you grab him by the shoulders and turn him back around. You gently scratch his back with both hands.

“How does that feel?”

He doesn’t respond verbally, he’s too absorbed in the sensations. He writhes around, trying to get whatever park of his back is currently under your nails closer to you. When you move one hand up his neck to his scalp, he leans so far into your touch that he falls backwards against you. You bring your face down to his, keeping your hand in his hair. You look into his half lidded eyes. 

“This is cool,” he says, and giggles. His nerves are electrified, your nails on his scalp sending tingles radiating through his whole body. He looks down to check because he could swear he’s hovering six inches above the couch. He feels so immaterial that he’s surprised he doesn’t phase right through you. “I’m a ghost,” he whispers.

You cackle. “You’re a ghost, Corey?”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing too. He tries to fight off a full blown laughing fit. What’s even so funny? He’s not sure. His thoughts feel like they have to swim to get to him. If he doesn’t focus hard enough, they drift away. He sits up and turns to face you.

“What do you feel like you want to do? Is the music okay? Do you need anything?” You ask. 

He considers. He had forgotten all about the music until you mentioned it, but now he’s falling into it, absorbed in waves by the guitar riffs. He picks up his glass and only means to take a sip, but finds himself chugging. He looks around the apartment, glowing warm from the lamp and the candles, and he looks at your face, soft and dreamlike in the light. He can feel himself grinning stupidly, but he can’t wipe the smile off his face. Your questions swim hard to get to him.

“The music… feels nice. Like I’m inside it,” he says.

“I love that feeling! But if you really wanna feel inside it, you need something fuzzier than this,” you say, scrolling through your playlists. 

“Fuzzy?” He asks. You put a finger up. Hold on a second.

A new song starts playing. It is instantly cacophonous. It sounds like it was made by bees. It is fuzzy, that’s the perfect word for it. It feels like it’s massaging his brain. Even the singer’s voice is raspy and more like an instrument. He can’t understand the lyrics at all, but the vocals evoke a strong feeling anyway. The sound wraps around him like a warm blanket. 

You grab the remote and turn the music up a little bit, swaying along serenely. Corey feels hypnotized watching you, your movements like a pendulum swinging in front of his eyes. You are so gorgeous, and you look so happy. He impulsively reaches out to touch your face. You nuzzle into his hand, and he feels like his heart stops beating.

He wishes the moment could last forever, but a new song comes on and it’s much faster than the last one. You spring off the couch and throw yourself around the living room, dancing with abandon.

Corey hasn’t danced in over a year, not since the Halloween party. He has not so much as tapped his foot, even with all the new music he’s enjoyed at your suggestion. Every time he wants to do something with you he did with Allyson he feels hesitant. He’s still avoided giving you a ride on his bike, and he hasn’t met anyone else in your life, although he suspects he can’t hold off on meeting Veronica much longer. But he feels so warm and tingly right now, and you’re having so much fun. He jumps up and joins you.

The two of you circle each other like sharks. You lunge forward and grab his hands, pulling him close to you, then pushing him away. He lets you swing him all around the living room. You spin under his arm and then into it so your back is pressed against him with his arm around your waist. You and Corey bounce and sway as a unit, sensing and anticipating each other’s movements. He feels you give into your impulse to grind on him and it makes his knees weak. The way you wiggle your hips back against him is torturous. A pained little noise escapes despite his efforts to stay quiet as he wills himself not to get hard. It’s a losing battle. Oh my god. He’s not sure if he thinks it or says it, but you press against him one more time, harder and slower, before spinning back out of his arm.

He’s not gonna let you get away that easily, using his hold on your hand to pull you back to him, and wrapping his other arm around your waist. Your giggle comes out like a squeal. You look up at him with wide, starry eyes. Another new song begins. He’s not sure why, but Corey feels like it’s the kind of song that would play at prom. He didn’t go to his prom, he didn’t go to any school dances. Momma never would’ve allowed it, so he just didn’t ask. Slow dancing is pretty intuitive though. He keeps you clasped against him tightly as the two of you rotate slowly in the candle light.

You sigh contentedly into his shoulder and press your hips against him. Every sensation feels amplified, and the softness of your belly against him through his jeans is insane. He puts his face in your hair and grinds against you, reveling in your smell as his breathing gets heavier. Nothing exists except you and the music. He wants to be inside you. With his cock, yes, as deep as he can get it, but also with his soul. He doesn’t have much, but he would give you everything. He wants to say I love you despite knowing it’s too soon. It would be okay if you didn’t say it back, if you just needed time. But he wouldn’t be able to take it if it scared you away, so he keeps quiet.

“Corey,” you say, ending his trance. “Tell me something fucked up about you.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, suddenly nervous.

“I don’t know. Something that follows you from your childhood, or… Something you think about a lot even though you know you shouldn’t. Something you hesitate to tell people, or that you’ve never told anyone.” You pull away slightly and meet his eyes, searching.

“Oh, I…” he starts then trails off. He looks away. What is he supposed to say to that? There’s no shortage of fucked up things about him, no end to the things he hesitates to tell people. 

“You’re safe with me, Corey,” you coax him. 

He knows you think you mean it, that you would accept him for a petty criminal record, a weird kink, an ugly divorce. Even if he told you his whole life story, he believes that you would hold his hand, right up until… Well, he’s not sure where the boundary is. Jeremy? The homeless man? Luring Doug to Michael, the first time he ended a life completely intentionally?

Not knowing the boundary isn’t as scary as the questions. He might say something well within the safe zone, but anything he says at all could lead you to ask questions. Questions the internet would happily supply the answers to even if Corey didn't. Questions with answers that would bring you well outside your limits, wherever they are. Finding out just who exactly has been sleeping in your bed would certainly mean the end of the relationship, and probably the end of Corey’s life too. 

He looks back to you and then, up through the fog, he thinks of something he can tell you. A story that stands on its own, a story that you can’t google. 

“When I was twelve,” he starts, “I found a lighter in the seat on the school bus.” The events play like a movie in his head, and he’s transported back to an autumn when he had just a tiny bit of freedom. Momma had burned all the bridges at her old job and her new one wouldn’t give her her preferred schedule yet. She hated when Corey would be home alone for any amount of time after school. But being a single mom trying to keep food on the table meant that for a few months she didn’t have the option of getting off in time to be home when he got there, temporarily granting him the luxury of being a latchkey kid.

“I put it in my backpack and kept it on me all day at school. I just kept thinking about it, like I could feel it in there, waiting. When I got home I knew I had a couple of hours alone. I spent it burning stuff. Pieces of cardboard from the garbage or whatever. I thought it was so cool how the fire could just… completely erase things. I wanted to watch something bigger disappear. 

“My neighbors across the street had a car up on blocks. It didn’t have an engine. It had been sitting there for as long as I could remember. One of the windows was rolled down, or maybe just missing, so it was full of trash and leaves. I waited til nobody was looking and I lit a piece of cardboard and dropped it in. Then I ran home and watched it from my bedroom window.

“It was awesome. All the shit inside caught so fast, then the seats, then the frame. You wouldn’t think metal would turn to ash and float away, but it does. Cars are paper thin. I cut through them with a torch at work all the time. 

“The fire got really fucking big. A lot bigger than I expected. I thought when the car burnt out, the fire would disappear, like it did with a cereal box. But the grass was super dry. It spread across the yard and caught my neighbor’s garage. I ... I didn’t call 911 because I was scared they would know it was me. Eventually someone else called, but the garage was gone by the time the fire department came.”

Corey basks in the rapt look in your eyes as he tells his story, still holding you close and swaying slightly. It feels so good to just be honest with you about something. Not to have to tiptoe around his secret. He can’t believe the way you eat it up.

“Then what?” You ask, awed. 

“I don’t know. They never found out it was me.”

“Holy shit. You could’ve burned down the whole neighborhood, you little arsonist!” You poke him in the chest and laugh. "I should've known you were a firebug, Mr. Lights His Cigs with Matches."

“Guilty,” Corey says. Guiltier than you know. “What about you? Are you gonna tell me something fucked up about you?”

You pull out of his arms slightly, not to get away, but to bring him with you to the couch. He sits down with you, one arm still around your waist. You hit the bong. As you exhale you gesture to offer him more, but he’s still plenty stoned and he wants to focus on whatever you’re about to say.

“I didn’t tell you the whole story,” you say.

Corey is confused until he realizes you’re presenting your arm to him. The Carrie tattoo. He runs his fingers over it. With his sense heightened, he feels like he can read it like braille. He thinks back to the night the two of you watched Carrie. How you had unknowingly validated him. How he hoped you could find a way to feel your feelings about Carrie, about him. 

“There was this guy. He used to be hot shit in the music scene here. I think at one point he was in… four different bands? I knew we had all these mutual friends, and I saw him around all the time. I mean, he was almost impossible to avoid. And he was cute, and he was talented. I thought that maybe he and I could really be something. But we just didn’t click like I hoped we would. Not like I click with you.

“I kept going on dates with him, even though I wasn’t feeling it. I wanted to feel it, or … I don’t know. It makes less sense the longer ago it happened. I guess he never picked up on the fact that I was pulling away. He was gone on tour a lot and I kinda hoped he would just get distracted and forget about me. But he didn’t. Even after I spelled it out for him, he still acted like we were together. I had to start avoiding shows his bands played, certain bars I knew he liked. I would still see him everywhere though. He would put his arm around me, try to make plans with me, whatever. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer, for months. It was so bad Veronica would physically get in between us so he would leave me alone.”

Corey clenches his jaw. He remembers the way Doug disrespected Allyson in front of him. Doug had treated Corey like shit too, threatening him when he arrived on the scene after the accident with Jeremy, making Corey’s handcuffs too tight. He deserved what he got just for that. But the thing Corey really couldn’t take was the way Doug pretended to be interested in Allyson, to care for her, while making her visibly uncomfortable. The way Doug acted like he owned her, like she owed him something, like she was too stupid to make her own choices. That was why Doug had to die. And as you talk, Corey silently promises that if he ever sees the guy from this story, he’ll have to die too. 

“So on Halloween we did a bar crawl, everybody from work. And we all dressed up like Stephen King characters. I was Carrie and Veronica was Wendy from The Shining. Have you ever seen it?”

“No.”

“Okay, well, Veronica was a character that carries around a baseball bat for part of the film. And she went to the bathroom and she had me hold her bat.” You pause, making a sour face.

“Oh my god… I just realized. He must have seen that I was with people and waited. I thought the timing was a coincidence, but maybe it wasn’t. He was shit-faced, but I guess he wasn’t too far gone to realize he could only get near me when she and Rose left. That fucking asshole!

“Anyway, Veronica went to the bathroom and he came up behind me and put his hand on my stomach and tried to dance with me. And I just got so fucking angry… I broke his nose and three fingers.”

“You beat him with the bat?” Corey asks, trying not to sound too excited. You look at him with narrowed eyes, like you’re trying to figure something out. He looks down, not wanting to give himself away. 

“I didn’t beat him, exactly. When he put his hand on me I just kinda…” You grab the three middle fingers on one of Corey’s hands. He looks back up, meeting your eyes, and holds his breath. You bend his fingers sideways, gently but firmly. First it’s a nice stretch, then it hurts. He doesn’t react. He trusts you not to actually break his fingers, but he almost feels like he would let you if you wanted to. You hold his fingers at that unnatural angle for a long moment. Then you let go.

“Like that. But harder, and faster. I didn’t think they would break so easy or that it would fuck up his tendons and stuff, but I was tipsy and full of adrenaline and I just… Did it. And then I hit him in the face with the bat, once. Once was enough.

“I was dressed like Carrie, and it felt kind of supernatural the way my instincts just took over so I could defend myself. I didn’t know I had that in me. I got the tattoo so I would never forget.”

Corey is completely smitten. He takes your hands, pressing his palms into yours, knowing you’ve both felt the vibration of someone else’s bones breaking. His impression of you as a huntress was more correct than he could’ve ever hoped. You’re genuinely dangerous. 

His desire to say I love you floods back to him, but he bites his tongue. He has to figure out the perfect way to tell you.

[buckysgoldenheart]

Just Us

Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary: Henry is sick and tired of you bringing dates back to your shared apartment, and he has no problem letting you know. So basically, mega jealous Henry, which I am a pathetic sucker for.

Warnings: mentions of sex, lots of cursing. I think that’s it.

Notes: this is kind of similar to another fic I did, and I try not to do that, but I just really felt the need to write this, so I did.

Words: 2732

Henry’s mood turned sour the second you walked through the door with your date in tow. You came in with a bright smile on your face that he returned with a scowl, but you did your best to brush it off. Your roommate acting like an overgrown child every time you brought home a guest was nothing new; you certainly weren’t surprised, and you had no intention of stooping to his level.

“Don’t mind us,” You called to Henry from over your shoulder as you shed your coat and draped it on the hook. “This is James.”

Henry only grunted in response, not looking up from fixing his dinner; peanut butter about to be spread messily on a slice of wheat bread. You rolled your eyes, took James’s coat and led him over to the couch where he smiled sweetly when you invited him to sit and offered him a drink.

Entering the kitchen, you opened the fridge door and pulled out two beers. “So?” You asked, your eyebrow raised as you searched for the bottle opener in the junk drawer. Henry dropped the knife with a clang on the countertop, then turned to you and crossed his arms.

“So, you just thought this was fine,” He asked, his voice dripping with aggravated sarcasm as he shrugged his broad shoulders and frowned. “Just whatever, no big deal?”

You chuckled at the weak argument you’d had at least three times before. You wouldn’t have given him the chance to say anything about your date at all if you knew he wasn’t going to hang on to it the entire night just to explode in the morning for bringing a stranger into his home. Your home too, you would often have to remind him. So, it was your mission to let him get the anger out early in the night. You’d be less likely to have to worry about it later and could focus your attention on the man sitting in your living room rather than Henry’s imminent frustration.

“Henry,” You sighed and took a sip of your beer. “As of right now, it’s just the continuation of an innocent date. We’re going to watch a movie.”

“As of right now?” Henry huffed deeply. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that if it gets a little heated, I promise not to make out with him in front of you, but at this current time, you have little to worry about.”

He sucked in a long breath through his nostrils. “Ok, that’s—”

“And we won’t fuck on our couch. I’ll take him to my room so you don’t have to see anything scarring,” You teased with a wink.

“Ok, enough.”

“And we won’t be loud, I swear.”

“Enough!” He snapped. You quickly whipped your head around the corner to see if James heard, but he was still sitting there, playing with his fingernails as he patiently waited for you like the gentleman he was. When you looked back at Henry, he was practically quaking with anger. “Get that asshole out of my apartment.”

“Um, our apartment. And no thank you.” You smiled and cocked your head to the side as innocently as you could. “I’d like to be having sex tonight.”

“With him?” Henry pointed a long finger in your date’s general direction. The fury in his eyes could’ve stabbed James through the back of his head if the wall weren’t in the way.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”

“For fucks sake, Y/N. Have some self-respect.”

Your playful smile instantly dropped, and if you weren’t leaning against the wall, you would’ve stumbled. Henry had said a lot of things before; Hurtful things, things that made you want to slap him, but something about this felt worse. Assuming you were devaluing yourself by wanting to have sex with a man who was sweet, and kind and generous, and million other lovely things men, other than Henry, have never been to you, was like a stab to the gut. Henry was your best friend; you were his. You supported his choices and dreams, and it seemed Henry did the same for you unless it came to this very particular subject. He hated every man you brought around, but bringing them around or getting involved with them did not make you a stupid girl who cannot take care of herself.

“Jesus Henry, stay in your lane, would you?” You said, shaking your head and rubbing at your temple with your free fingers. “I don’t need my best friend giving me shit. Why can’t I bring a guy here without you acting like a complete dick to him and me?”

He stepped closer until you had to look up to meet his glare. “You’re a very smart girl, Y/N. Figure it out,” he growled, then moved around you, but you grabbed his arm before he could escape yet again. Every time, he tried to escape. Every time, he stomped away from you like a grump as if you had some reason to be sorry or ashamed, and you weren’t having it any longer.

“We aren’t children, Henry. I’m not playing this game. If you’ve got a problem with me, say it to my fucking face.”

He stared at you for a long beat, but then shook your hand off him and made his way down the hall, slamming the door to his room once he was inside.

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

James was better than most at kissing you, and you’d kissed your fair share. He knew what you wanted--how you liked things--without you needing to ask, and it was like its own little miracle. There was no fumbling around. His lips were firm and his arms around you were strong. He was confident in his touch on your skin as you straddled his lap, and all of it combined had you a moaning, whimpering mess.

“I wasn’t sure we would actually get to do this,” He said between kisses as you both tried to catch your breath.

“Why?” You lightly chuckled, your fingers skimming down to the little buttons holding his shirt together and easing one open. “I’m certainly having a good time.”

“Believe me sweetheart, I am too, but Superman there looked like he wanted to kick my ass.”

Fucking Superman. That asshole had come out of his room at random, inconvenient times as you and James lightly pawed at one another throughout the movie, and you both could feel Henry’s eyes on you. After the look he gave you the first time he came into the living room, you stopped turning your heads his way when his heavy footsteps thudded against the hardwood.

You made a low humming sound that had James’s cock twitching in his pants, and you moved your head down to peck your lips against his. “Don’t bother with him,” You whispered.

He leaned into the light scratching your nails were giving the side of his scalp, and with a groan, said, “If you say so, babydoll, I won’t give it a second thought.”

“Good.” You smiled, satisfied, then kissed him again but he pulled back barely a minute later.

“It’s just…the way he looks at you.”

“He’s a protective friend.” You snickered and ground your hips down on his a little harder to get him back on track.

He groaned as his fingers dug into your waist, but it didn’t distract him. “No, it’s not only that. It’s like…” His lips pursed trying to find the words. “He looks at you in a way that friends normally do not look at one another.”

“He’s got some weird attitude tonight, ok? It’s nothing.” Grabbing his cheeks, you forced him to look directly at you when you said, “Now keep kissing me before I get too impatient.”

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

At two in the morning, you figured you were safe. You figured there would be a direct and easy path to the front door of your apartment as you let James out with a smile and a goodbye kiss and promises to text one another the next day, though you weren’t sure how much either of you really meant it. And you were right, there was an uninterrupted tiptoeing to the door. It was when you turned back for your bedroom that you realized the path had a roadblock.

Henry stood in front of you, the fumes nearly visibly wafting off him, with the harshest look he had ever directed at you taking over his entire face. It was a disservice to his handsome features and made your stomach twist uneasily.

“Is this for fucking real right now?” He growled so intensely it vibrated in your ears. “Did I just see what I think I saw?”

“Jesus, Henry, you scared me.”

“You actually slept with that guy?”

“Wh—”

“Un-fucking-believable.” Laughing half-heartedly, he ran one of his hands down his face, but that was all it took for the shock to wear off and for your annoyance to set in.

“Ok, I’m done with this. What is your goddamn problem?”

The two of you didn’t fight this way. Not for long anyway, and even so, this time was significantly worse than any other. Outbursts happened for the both of you, snapping, and words you wish you could take back, but Henry was still looking at you the way he had earlier in the night; like you were a reckless child he was losing respect for by the minute, and it broke your heart.

He stared at you as if expecting you to have an answer to your own question, but when you didn’t continue, he shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck, and said, “I’m going to a hotel. I can’t be here right now.”

“What? Henry, why?”

His keys were in hand, his phone and wallet tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants, when it finally registered to you that he wasn’t kidding. He was leaving so fast he didn’t care to take anything other than the necessities with him. That’s how much he wanted to get away from you, and you hated it. You never wanted to get away from him.

Light from the hall streamed through the doorway as you finally began to follow after him. You grabbed at his t-shirt when he wouldn’t respond to your repeating calling of his name, and he whipped around fast with a frown down at you. Your mouth kept opening and closing, unsure of what to say.

He sniffed once, thinned his lips, and removed your hand from his body, then as calmly as he had spoken all night, said, “I’m in fucking love with you.”

Then door was slammed behind him, jarring you and leaving you to soak the night in.

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

When he said those words to you, the six words that he would never be able to take back, the ones that irrevocably changed your friendship in the blink of an eye, everything inside of you began to tremble and vibrate and beat with such intensity you could almost feel the functions of your body. Your blood was pumping a hell of a lot faster and you heart was ready to burst.

Your brain, your skin, the nerves and veins under that skin; every bit of you was working overtime to help process what happened and keep you alert as you did so, and maybe it was all a little overkill, but he had said the one thing you never thought you’d hear.

I’m in fucking love with you.

It would repeat over and over in your head, bouncing around the walls of your skull as it tried to find a way to escape, but there was no use. You could never forget his confession, or the way he said it. There was something desperate about it, weak. There was exhaustion, as if he were tired of holding it back and had given up on even trying.

It was too much. You’d never dismiss it, and God, when he got his ass back home you wouldn’t let him brush it aside, but for now, it was too much.

You wanted sleep after sitting completely still for two hours, staring into space. So you carried your body to the closest room, his room, crawled into his bed, and tangled yourself within the sheets until you wouldn’t be able to unwrap yourself without effort you did not possess at such an ungodly hour. You were stuck, trapped, engulfed by him, just like you wanted to be. Then you took his king-sized pillow, massive like his body, and hugged it to your chest, tucking your face in it. It smelled like him, all musky and piney and perfect in a way that always made you dizzy when he would sit a little too close and drape a long arm around your shoulders as you watched tv or read a book.

And you cried yourself to sleep, wishing he was beside you.

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

Henry came back in the morning, though he wasn’t sure how he gathered the courage. Maybe it was the fact that it was you. Just you, his best friend, his roommate. He loved you in more ways than one, and perhaps it was that knowledge that made him a little stronger.

He’d face you, and he’d do it with the intention of making everything clear. He was in love with you and it wasn’t going to change. He loved you as his friend; that wasn’t going to change either, and no way in hell was he going to lose you twice over.

Taking a few deep breaths, Henry unlocked the front door and eased his way inside. You weren’t around the sunlit soaked first floor of the apartment, and when he traipsed upstairs and nudged your door open, you weren’t there either. He wanted you tucked in your bed, not gone and probably terrified at the thought of seeing him, so running to James’s or Jake’s or Jason’s apartment to avoid him. That would be the perfect painful exclamation point on the disaster of his poor decision making.

Then he found you. Not missing, but snug in his bed, warming the mattress with your body as it dipped the slightest under your weight. Everything about the sight killed him and melted his heart simultaneously. There you were, laying peacefully angelic, right where he had wanted you for months. And it looked so beautifully natural.

Not even stopping to think, Henry inched his way to the other side of his bed, lifted the duvet and slid beneath it. He reached an arm around your waist and pulled you close to kiss your forehead, then tucked his face into the crook of your neck. When you stirred, he leaned back to take in your face as your eyebrows scrunched and your lips parted in a yawn.

You didn’t open your eyes but rose a hand, placed it on his cheek, and ran a thumb along the corner of his mouth. As the goosebumps spawned all over his body, he wasn’t even sure you were fully awake, but then you whispered, “It was always you, Henry. Always.”

Henry swallowed hard as your sleepy voice continued.

“I figured you weren’t an option, and I was doing my best working around that.”

After running a hand over your hair and tucking some behind your ear, Henry pressed a kiss to your lips. A short, soft one to see how you’d react. Then you opened your eyes slowly and met your Y/E/C with his blue.

“Do it again,” You said, and so he connected your lips a little firmer, tightening his hold on you, and rolling on his back until your body splayed over his.

You moaned when he caressed his tongue against yours after opening your mouth an inch. Your heart fluttered in your chest the stupid way dramatic, moony-eyed women often described it in novels. You thought it was a myth, the idea that anyone could make you feel so loved just from a kiss, and you’d lost hope for that kind of thing long ago. But Henry ripped your pessimism to shreds in a matter of minutes.

“I want you to be mine,” he mumbled against your lips. “Just mine.”

“Then I’m yours,” You said without hesitation, tilting your head back enough to look in his eyes. You nudged your nose against his. “Just yours.”

---

Tags: @dugan365 @moonlightimagination @pietrotheavenger @marvel-fanfiction @hawkeyeharrington @dani-si @wintersoldier98 @then-there-was-me-emily @prxttybirdz​ @jazzwoman897​ @meganwinchester1999​ @ufffg​ @debra77​ @rebelliouscat​ @anise-d-castle6​ @projectxhappiness​ @lowkeysebby​ @stringgeek13​ @notmyfault404​ @jjamesbbarness​ @guera31​ @sophiatomlinson23​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @hiddles-rose​ @picapicapicassobaby​ @lokilvrr​ @sunshine-seven @harrysthiccthighss​ @agniavateira​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @tumblnewby @summersong69​ @starlite13​ @mstgsmy​ @purplelove75​ @defffcc​ @the-soot-sprite​ @kissthatlifeaway @atomicpaperhairdouniversity​ @aquariuslavenderhoney​ @the-problem-of-leisure​ @amberlokabrenna​

[cantaloupe-draws]

El Chico del Apartamento 512

Irl! Quackity x Female! reader

Summary: Nothing interesting ever happens in the apartment complex you live in. It’s the same old routine for you. Constantly turning down your neighbor and heading too and from your apartment. Well that’s up until you meet the very cute boy that lives in apartment 512 that you can never seem to gather the courage to talk too. To make make matters worse, he shows up to the cafe you work at

Switches from Reader’s s POV to Quackity’s POV at the very end

Genre: Song fic, fluff, somewhat cafe trope, strangers to lovers, crushes

Warnings: use of Quackity’s real name, creepy neighbor, cursing, and I think that’s about it

Song :El Chico del Apartamento 512 by Selena

Lyrics are in bold

—

Every day is the same down the corridor

Every day it’s the same old thing. I pass the same old doors as I make my way towards my own at the end of the corridor. Counting the room numbers as I pass.

“508, 509, 510,-“ I count and but as soon as I reach room 511 the door suddenly swings forward and I’m greeted by both a whistle and Chad, my neighbor.

“Y/n baby I keep on waiting for you to go on a date with me like you promised,” Chad said as he stood in front of his door frame, right arm resting on the door. “I need to show you around town,” he said with a smirk as he rested his face on his fist.

I scoffed as I moved away from him, “The only thing you need right now is an urgent shower. You stink like a pig and it’s absolutely disgusting. Besides, I never promised you anything” I said, trying to continue on my way, but Chad just kept getting more and more persistent with every rejection. His nagging was getting annoying.

“Come Y/n I’ll take you to this bar across town, I’ll even pay for your drinks” he kept persisting.

You would think that any decent guy that’s asking you out on a date would obviously pay for them himself. It’s a given but this is Chad we’re talking about. I was sick of his terrible date ideas and I had to face him once again.

“Listen, I don’t know how many times I’ve told you this and how many times I’ll have to repeat it but, I don’t want to go on these stupids dates with you,” I told him as I rejected for what seemed to be the millionth time. And as soon as I said that the door beside us swung open.

Out came a young man wearing a navy blue cap that was covering almost the entirety of his hair but still managed to expose small tufts of dark brown hair from the sides. He looked up at the predicament Chad and I were both in and I was able to get a good look at him.

He had almond-shaped eyes that were a dark brown color and had various beauty marks scattered around his face. He was attractive. Very VERY attractive. Oh no I’m in deep shit, I thought to myself as I quickly turned away when I felt that I was staring at him for too long. He turns away from us and heads towards the elevator doors.

I stayed stunned for a few moments then turned to face Chad again, completely red in the face, dumbfounded, and at a complete loss for words. But before Chad could get another word out I quickly rushed to my apartment and leaned my back against the door once I got inside. My heart is beating fast and my chest feels tight and constricted. I quickly got myself a glass of water from my faucet and though it helped with my fast heart rate, it didn’t help the butterflies swarming around in my stomach. It might sound crazy but I think I’ve just met the man of my dreams.

Ever since then, I’ve made sure to take my sweet time walking down the corridor in hopes to see the cute boy from apartment 512 again. I’ve gone as far as to purposely make small talk and fake my interest in Chad in hopes to see him once more.

—

The boy from apartment 512 the one who makes my poor heart beat fast.

I walked into the elevator quickly pressing the button towards the first floor when I heard someone yell “HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!”

Loud footsteps came barreling towards the elevator. The yell of itself was enough to get my blood pumping but, to make matters much worse it was the cute boy from apartment 512 who was coming towards me.

“Thank you so much,” he said out of breath once he got inside. He offered me a smile of gratitude as the elevator doors closed. I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a cap this time but, instead he was sporting a grey beanie with red and blue stripes.

‘He’s the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my entire life’ I internally screamed to myself.

“Yeah, no problem” I responded quietly in hopes I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.

Even if there weren't more than two pieces of dialogue uttered between us, it was enough for my heart to beat faster than the speed of light.

—

The boy from apartment 512 who causes me to stutter like I've never done before.

I was manning the cashier station at the cafe I worked at. It was filled to the brim with people who were either typing away on their laptops or having a conversation with their friends.

But on this day, I had finally learned his name.

The busy atmosphere had me tackling customers' orders from left to right, “Hello, may I take your order?” I said as the next customer approached me.

But surprisingly enough, I was greeted by a familiar face.

The cute boy from apartment 512.

“Yes, hello I would like a caramel macchiato please,” he said and I felt my face go red instantly.

Oh my god, it’s him again, I thought as I knew that my brain would start to scramble once more. “O-of course. Coming right up, n-name?” I asked him as I completely stumbled on my words.

“Alex,” he said, “Okay A-Alex your name will be called out when your order is ready,” I tell him as I continue on with my work.

My coworkers had never seen me lose composure like that. It was clear that they would never let me live this down but even if I made a complete fool of myself in front of him, a huge part of me also just wants to keep talking to him both night and day.

—

But today I have finally truly decided to confess my love to him

I mentally prepared myself for the next time I interacted with Alex. I’ve finally decided that the next time I would run into him, I would finally ask to get to know him better in hopes that one day friendship will blossom into a wonderful relationship. A giddy laugh escaped me as I thought of the idea.

The cafe was busy as usual, with the same groups of people coming in. As it hit peak rush hour the line of customers just kept getting longer and longer and I was attempting to quickly attend to them to the best of my ability. Somehow, this was not enough to deter the feelings of butterflies in my stomach.

I knock on his door and I get goosebumps,

a blonde answers the door and my heart breaks

As I heard the bell above our door ring once more I raised my head and saw him, Alex. He was holding the door open for a woman as she walked in. They stood close together as they waited in line. This might seem like a bit of an exaggeration but when I saw them conversing together waiting in line the butterflies that were once fluttering disappeared and were replaced with dread. As my heart dropped, I realized that one thing was wanting to be friends with him but, that doesn’t change the fact that I had grown feelings for him. If he’s in a relationship then, what now? I felt lost as to how to handle this.

As the line in front of me kept getting shorter and shorter, I was becoming anxious as his turn was approaching. Though as it was almost the pair’s turn to order, Alex suddenly turns around and leaves the line and when his turn arrives he still wasn’t there. Despite this, I still went ahead and tended his apparent girlfriend.

I truly felt my heart breaking into pieces when suddenly she asked:

"Were you looking for my brother?"

“Hello, may I take your order?” I asked her, “Yes, can I have a vanilla latte please? But um, can we wait a couple of minutes for my brother? He went to the restroom and didn’t tell me his order,” she asked. Then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks, this was his sister. I’m so dumb, how could I’ve not realized the resemblance between them?? “Yeah that’s no problem” I finally responded.

Soon enough Alex came rushing towards his sister, “I’m so sorry for the wait” he said once he reached the both of us. “Just hurry it up. I’ll be waiting for you at the table” His sister said as she turned her back to the both of us.

Turning my attention to him as I rang up his order he then speaks up “You’re one of my neighbors aren’t you?” He asks me with a grin. I stop in my tracks as if I’m a deer in headlights.

“Yeah I am actually” I smile at him trying to muster enough courage to continue our conversation.

“I thought so, you were the one who held the elevator door for me the other day right? Also, the one who was yelling at my neighbor.”

My face instantly goes red as I thought back to the first time I met Alex. “In my defense he deserved it. He’s been harassing me ever since I’ve moved in” I shudder at the thought of Chad.

“Yeah I’ve realized that he really is a douche, he enjoys banging on the damn walls at three in the morning” he said as we laugh together at the stupid things Chad has done.

“Okay, okay you’re order will be out shortly,” I tell him with a smile, feeling my heart skip a beat. But Alex doesn’t move from the line.

“To be honest the whole reason I even came here wasn’t really for a drink or anything.” He said gazing towards the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.

“This might be a bit sudden because we’ve barely met but I wanted to actually ask you for your number since you seem really nice and you’re very pretty. If you’re not interested then that’s fine, I’ll just take my drink and go” Alex said sheepishly.

After I heard these words I found myself dumbfounded. At a complete loss for words. ‘DID HE JUST SAY THAT??? HOW DO I RESPOND???’ and from there my mind was absolutely speeding to the point where I just stood there. ‘HURRY UP AND DO SOMETHING!!!’ I yelled at myself, but yet still nothing managed to escape. Alex began to fidget more and more playing with his hands as I just stood there without a response.

“It’s okay, I’ll just go now.” Alex quickly said leaving.

—

Alex’s POV

‘SHIT. FUCK. MOTHERFUCKER. STUPID IDIOT.’

I cursed at myself while I walked towards my sister. Laying my head on the table, covering it in utter embarrassment.

“That didn’t go well, did it?” My sister said while casually scrolling through her phone. “And here you were boasting about how much of a smooth talker you were. You sir, just got rejected.”

“Will you shut up?” I groaned at her not raising my head. I’m already embarrassed out of my mind and she is not making it any better.

“Fine fine, you big baby I’ll go get our drinks and then you can go home and cry.” She said standing up as our orders were called.

‘God, why did I think it was a good idea to bring my sister along? How had it not crossed my mind? I hadn’t even given it a second thought as to what I was gonna do if I did get rejected. And to make matters much worse I just got rejected in front of my sister. I will never hear the end of it at family reunions. I’m already mentally digging my grave when I heard my sister come back.

“I think this one is yours” She said as she placed my drink in front of me. I raise my head slightly so I would be able to see what was in front of me. I looked at my cup as it said:

‘To the cute boy from apartment 512’

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx -Y/n’

—

A/N- So this is the first time I’ve ever wrote fan fiction before, I mainly stick to drawing so please excuse any mistakes I tried my best. But I hope you liked it over all. Also the lyrics in English don’t make as much sense as they do in Spanish, and it’s was bugging me so if they seem a bit odd you know why.

A special thanks to @tofuyami she really helped me with the brainstorming and editing process <3

@hungoverhellhound @cherrysirin @tofuyami @nealocus @struggling-with-time @bugsinmycoldsoup @venusacrossthestars @galaxygnf

Also stand Selena always -🍈

[writertitan]

The Swan

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 2398

themes: musician!reader, v soft levi, just fluff, Levi’s POV

requested by anon

The day Historia was crowned was important to Levi for two reasons. One was that, of course, he felt a surge of pride at one of his cadets rising to her full potential and becoming queen. He had always been slightly concerned about Historia; she was small - even smaller than him - and admittedly, he’d always viewed her as the weakest of them.

The second reason that day was so important to him was a reason he wasn’t quite ready to come to terms with. 

That day was the day he’d noticed you. Noticed you fully. 

You had always kept to yourself and Levi hadn’t chosen you to be on his squad. He barely had time to keep track of his own squad, let alone remember all the other scouts. Not that there were many scouts left. Still, you’d joined right before this entire mess had happened. Most of those who had been around before knowledge of titans being humans were dwindling off now. Except for you. 

But you being a survivor wasn’t what had caught Levi’s attention. In fact, you hadn’t even been the one to catch his attention. Not literally, not physically. 

After the coronation, Levi had stepped away, just for a breather and to take a break from socializing. It was exhausting, being around so many people, and being around so much celebration. 

He walked down this hall and that one, turning corners and essentially losing himself in a maze. There wasn’t a soul in sight. 

And that’s when he heard it. Very soft and faint at first, and growing stronger as he made his way down the empty hallway. Someone was playing notes on a piano, and beautifully so. Levi couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard music like this, where it wasn’t being played by some drunk outside at the markets, or being played in jest on base by slapping pots and pans and bringing out a worn out guitar. 

Soldiers didn’t get to hear refined music like this. So, Levi stopped. He stopped walking once he was right outside the door to the room where the music was. He stopped and he listened. It was so...rejuvenating. The exhaustion and stress he felt seeped away just the slightest bit, but it was enough. 

Out of curiosity, he leaned in just the slightest bit to peek his head into the room and figure out who was playing the piano like that. To his complete and utter surprise, he knew who you were immediately, even though you looked...different. 

There was the you that he had seen in passing at base. The you who saluted him and carried an air of respectfulness. The you who gave respect and followed orders and did what a soldier did. 

And then there was this you. The you Levi would have never thought you to be. The you that demanded respect instead of gave it, just from the way you poised yourself over the black and white keys and moved purposefully, eyes closed and face peaceful but concentrated. He barely recognized you and yet he knew exactly who you were.

He shrunk back into the shadows and leaned against the stone wall, his head resting against it as he let himself, for once, relax. 

Each time you stopped playing, letting the last notes die out and fade away, Levi felt his heart sink in an unfamiliar way, only to swell in his chest when a new song began playing from your fingertips. He stayed like that all night, slumped against a wall and out of view while you played song after song as the night wore on.

Even though he understood that eventually you had to stop and everyone had to leave, it still pained him when you stopped for good, the dying song accompanied by the scraping of the bench you sat on moving on the wood floors as you shifted to stand up. Levi sighed to himself and let reality creep back into his mind. The stress that had melted away was slowly weighing back on his shoulders, and made him feel heavy again. 

He was gone before you left the room. 

-

After that, Levi couldn’t stop watching you. It was like you made music with everything you did. He noticed how you’d hum a tune to your horse. He noticed how you even managed to form some sort of gentle melody just tapping your fingers against a table. 

You were constantly making music. He heard music whenever he was around you now. It was starting to get ridiculous, because it wasn’t like anything had changed, really. You still greeted him the same way, treated him the same way, acted and performed the same way. You had absolutely no idea that Levi had changed towards you. 

He was good at keeping his distance, at masking all of his inner thoughts and feelings. That’s what he was good at. And he was good at convincing himself that his choices were sound. Maybe he’d just been a little drunk that night and your music had moved him because of that. There was nothing different about you. You were just another soldier. He didn’t know you. 

But why did it feel like he knew you? Why was he catching himself being more observant? The tune you hummed to your horse never changed. When you’d been put on stable duty, that was when another tune escaped you. He’d only caught it while passing by the stables, but he immediately noticed it was different. 

He also noticed how you stopped and listened to the musicians at the markets when you’d all ridden into town for some supplies. He saw the way you eyed the man with the fiddle, your eyes watching the way his hands produced music from it in an almost careless fashion. The music Levi once thought was atrocious was of course still not as good as the music you had brought into his life, these drunken fools were still atrocious in some sense, but now he listened to it differently. It wasn’t that bad. Not when it had you smiling. 

-

It drove Levi crazy that you still looked at him the same way when he was bursting at the seams with wanting to tell you his big secret. You looked at him the same, you talked to him the same. All surface level. Levi often caught himself staring at you. And, when he had a few minutes of spare time, he filled those few precious minutes with thoughts of you and what it would be like for you to look at him so serenely, the way you did when you made all that music. 

He hoped he wasn’t being too obvious. He had honestly convinced himself that he was the same as always and nobody knew his little secret. It didn’t matter that he was gentler with you, went out of his way sometimes just to say hello to you, made sure you were eating enough and sleeping enough. You didn’t notice, which calmed him down and also made him a little crazy. Although it was better, easier this way, he still hated that he couldn’t tell you what was happening to him. How could he tell you that he was constantly thinking about you, even when he wasn’t supposed to? How could he tell you that those songs you hummed were stuck in his mind? How could he tell you that he loved music now because of you? 

There was an irrational part of his brain that screamed at him to tell you, but it was not as strong as his rational parts that told him to never even take the opportunity should it arise. 

Levi was sure his rational brain was winning. Until the day he sat down next to you in the mess hall and handed you his bread when he saw you giving half of yours to Sasha. 

“Don’t starve yourself,” was all he said, and fought the twitch in his lips when you replied with, “I could say the same to you, Captain.” 

He ate quietly beside you, heart thumping wildly in his chest the entire time. He’d never said so many words to you all in one breath. 

-

It had taken so much work and, truth be told, he almost didn’t give it to you. Levi felt the rational part of him slowly succumbing to...hope? And he understood why so many people clung to this feeling. 

He hoped that if he gave you this gift, you would see. You would be able to understand what he was feeling and thinking and fighting himself about. And maybe, just maybe, you would be flattered. Maybe you would be willing to reciprocate. 

But Levi found himself not caring about what the endgame would be as he walked to your room, gift clutched tightly and clumsily in one hand as he knocked on your door. After a moment of waiting, he deflated, wondering where you could be right now. It was evening, after supper, and there was some down time to be had tonight. Could you have gone out, were you with someone els-

Then suddenly, you were there, surprise etched on your face at the sight in front of you. Levi hid his gift behind his back just in time, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been this nervous. Had he ever been this nervous? 

“Captain,” you greeted him, voice trailing off so it sounded more like a question. And then a real question. “Can I help you with something?” 

A real conversation. Levi hadn’t really prepared himself for this. Whatever he’d planned on saying was suddenly forgotten and he cursed his now completely irrational brain. 

“I got you something,” he managed to say, shifting uncomfortably and no longer able to meet your eyes. He pulled out his gift from behind his back to show you, eyes snapping to your face at the gasp that came from your mouth. 

The look in your eyes was enough to make the whole endeavor worth it. But the way you were so gentle with taking it from his hands and examining it closely, it made any regret, any hesitance, leave his body. 

You scrunched up your nose and looked at him, violin close to your chest as you almost cradled it. 

“Captain, this looks expensive...I can’t accept it. Where did you get it?” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured you almost instantly, panicked at the thought of you not keeping his gift to you. “Really, nobody wanted the damn thing. I thought you’d like it.” 

“How did you know I could play the violin?” you asked him, genuinely curious. 

Levi gulped. He hadn’t known for sure, had only guessed based on one encounter, and hoped that you’d at least just like the gift. So, he told the truth as best as he could without incriminating himself. 

“I saw you eyeing one of those musicians at the market once, the one that always plays that goddamn fiddle,” Levi explained, voice as stiff as his body. “Figured maybe you knew a thing or two…” 

You broke out into a smile then, though it was bashful, and Levi looked away again before his face got too hot and he flushed in a way that gave him away. If you noticed anything amiss, you said nothing. 

“Thank you...this is the best gift,” you said earnestly, then paused, voice growing soft as you asked, “Would you like to hear a little something? I haven’t played in years so I can’t promise it’ll be any good. But maybe you could critique me.”

“I’d love to.” The words came out of his mouth before you could even finish what you were saying. 

You let him in your room and closed the door behind him, and suddenly, the atmosphere was much more intimate. Levi tugged at his collar, wondering why it was so hot all of a sudden, but kept a polite distance as he settled into a chair by the corner and you surprisingly got comfortable in the middle of your room. Levi didn’t know much about music, but figured it would have been more comfortable to sit down or something. 

When you started playing, it was a song he’d never heard before. Hadn’t heard you play it on the piano before, hadn’t heard you hum it or drum it with your fingers before. It was new. And it was beautiful. 

This was the song that told him he was in love. How silly was that? 

But he listened, enraptured by the way you put your heart into every note. He took note of how your eyes closed in that way that was somehow familiar to him now and how your brows furrowed slightly in concentration. But you still managed to look so serene. 

He never took your eyes off you. Levi watched you play out the entire song, feeling his heart move with the strings. You played his heart like you played the violin, in the most purposeful and melodic way. It was pure music. 

Even when you stopped playing and got a little shy, the confidence in the musician version of yourself slipping away, Levi didn’t look away. He was in awe and didn’t care if it showed on his face. 

“You’re not rusty,” he promised you. “You’re incredible.” He meant it in more than one way. 

He wouldn’t have been able to know the way your heart swelled at the sweet words of praise. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

He stood up slowly, not wanting to invade your privacy any longer, but stopped at your door and turned to look at you, that damned nervousness seeping back into his veins. 

“Do you think...do you think I could hear you play more often?” he asked you, the words forcing themselves out before he could catch them. But who was he kidding? He didn’t want to stop himself from asking. 

He didn’t fail to notice the way you brightened at his question. He was relieved at the eager nod. 

“Anytime,” you replied. Then you held up the violin; you held it so gracefully, and knew exactly how to handle it. Levi warmed at the sight. “And thanks again for this gift...I love it, Captain.” 

“Levi. Just Levi,” he corrected you. And you gave him a grin. 

“I love it...Levi.” 

It was music to his ears. 

[imaginedisish]

Feels Like We Only Go Backwards (Tenet) Neil x Reader

A/N: Hey there guys!!! I’m back...again ahhhhh. I’ve been gone for a while (I always am) but hopefully I’ll be back for a while now :) I hope you’re all staying safe and doing well. I know the world is ass, but hopefully things will be better soon. Anyway, I’m obsessed with Tenet right now and I decided that I had to write a Neil x Reader one shot (I love Robert Pattinson, it’s a problem) Also, I think this is my longest fic yet...if someone wants to let me know how to do the “keep reading” thing, please tell me omg. I’m so sorry to those who have to scroll through this. Hopefully I can change that. Anyway folks, ENJOY!!!

p.s pls request tenet stuff. gimme some smut to write.

Summary: You allow your feelings for Neil to get in the way, causing you to compromise the mission and put everyone in danger. (AU, obviously because of the reader insert, and also because this particular scene does not actually happen in the movie).  ~loosely based off “Feels Like We Only Go Backwards” by Tame Impala~

Warnings: Violence, mentions of death, guns, blood, wounds, cursing, angst, possibly implications of being “lovers (or friends with benefits)” and luckily fluff :) 

Word Count: 4,163 (Please fucking teach me how to add the “read more” thing holy shit)

You storm down the cold, grey, skinny hallway lit with dimmed fluorescents. There was something inexplicably chilling about this place, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on exactly what that thing was. Maybe it was the way the lights reflected against the walls, glowing subtly against the tiles. It wasn’t a pretty glow. It was the glow one could expect to see along the walls of a morgue. 

Maybe it was the peculiar, dull ringing that followed you down the corridor, haunting your every step. Maybe it was the simple sound of your heels clicking against the concrete floors, and the idea that those clacks could call someone to your very location and leave you absolutely defenseless. Maybe it was the fact that you only had two bullets left in your glock. 

Or, it was because he wasn’t with you anymore. 

You quickly shake off the thought that he, of all people, could make you feel better. You didn’t need him. Hell, you didn’t need anyone, you thought to yourself. But still, your mind kept circling back to the image of him popping up in front of you, taking your hand and leading you away to- 

You cut yourself off. You couldn’t let your mind wonder for that long, especially about Neil. Still, you can’t help but flash back to just minutes ago, when Neil was by your side, when you made the massive mistake of letting your feelings get away of the mission. 

Neil pulled you down the hall, his hand firmly clasped around the upper part of your right arm. He was practically dragging you with him since you couldn’t keep up with his speed. 

Finally, Neil yanks you into an alcove, hoping you two can hide for at least a few minutes before running again. 

“Neil you need to give me an answer, what the fuck is-,” Suddenly, Neil pushes you against the wall, his right hand presses hard on your hip while his left hand covers your mouth. His face is in yours. Any personal space between you two is non-existent. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your nose. He’s so close that you can feel wisps of his dirty blonde hair dance across your forehead. 

He smirks, “No time for answers.” You felt a twinge in your stomach, like butterflies, or maybe something much more gross, because now was not the time for Neil to make you feel this sort of way. 

The worst part is that he knows exactly what he’s doing. He carefully selects each and every movement he makes. He removes his hand from your mouth and places it at the nape of your neck instead, his thumb brushing lightly just below your hairline. 

You stifle a quiet moan at his touch. “N-Neil, what are you doing?” Your voice is quiet, but shaky. 

“Keeping you calm, I can tell you’re about to lose it,” He says matter-of-factly. Of course that’s the only reason, there’s nothing romantic here, and there never will be. 

‘Neil will never feel the way I feel about him’ you think to yourself. You can’t help but get a bit angry at his ability to put you under his spell. Despite your heart racing, despite your brain being bent out of shape by the close proximity of Neil, you can’t help but feel calmer. And you hated that. You were too stubborn for your own good. 

He breaks the silence, “Are you alright? I figured you’d have something to say. You said you wanted to talk to me before, didn’t you?” 

Before…when you had planned on telling him how you felt. You were going to tell him before.  Before the mission escalated past the point of return. Before you had ruined everything. Before Neil risked his life to bring you to safety. You had fucked up this time, insurmountably. It wasn’t entirely your fault, but you didn’t make it much better. 

Neil blew the entire team’s cover all to save you. You forgot the script, all because you were far too concerned with how you were going to handle your feelings for Neil. It wasn’t just any mission, either. It had to do with Sator’s henchmen. This was Tenet’s way in. This was how you could get more information. This was how you could save the world. 

And yet, you brought it all down. Somehow, Sator’s men believed that you were the only spy, and that everyone else was legitimate. They were going to kill you and spare the others, but Neil practically threw you out of the room and down the hall before anything could happen. The second he grabbed you, gun shots erupted. Now you had to pay for it, hiding in a barely-lit, cold hallway, with Sator creeping somewhere close behind, ready to attack. 

Suddenly, the guilt began to overwhelm you. What if this was it, what if you would be the reason Neil would die? What if your actions destroy the mission all together? Tears free themselves from your eyes, sliding slowly down your cheeks. 

“Hey,” Neil whispers as he moves the hand that rested on your neck up to your left cheek. He wipes away a few tears with his thumb. “It’s alright. We’re going to be fine, don’t worry-,”

Before he can get another word out, you grab his hand. “Stop, please, just stop,” You plead, unable to take anymore. He has to know what he’s doing to you, he just has to, you think, as your sadness slowly turns to anger. It irritated you that he was able to swoop in and save your day. It irritated you that he was able to touch you and comfort you, despite the lack of relationship that you desperately wanted fulfilled more than anything. None of this was fair. It wasn’t fair that he could be this non-nonchalant while you were practically doubled over with butterflies and other real anxieties from the situation you were currently in. 

Neil looks a bit more annoyed now. “I’m just trying to help,” He says, his eyes staring deeply into yours. Those eyes, you could drown in them if you weren’t careful, so you snap back into reality, allowing yourself to feed into your anger. 

“Maybe I don’t need your help,” You say, instantly regretting the words as they leave your lips. 

The corners of Neil’s mouth turn up slightly, his cocky attitude showing yet again. “So back there, earlier,” He gestures backwards, to the past, “You didn’t need my help?” 

You shake your head, “I’m just sick of this.”

Neil’s smile fades away as a confused look finds itself on his face. “Of what?” There’s a sadness in his voice. “Us?” 

His use of“Us” immediately takes you back. ‘What the fuck does he mean by “Us”?’ You ask yourself. You were undeniably close, but he never confirmed or denied his feelings for you.

Your stomach does a back flip before you allow yourself to grow angry again. 

“There is no ‘Us’, and that’s the problem Neil,” You say, pushing him off of you. He stumbles out of the alcove and rushes back in, closing the space between you and him once again. 

Neil gives you a puzzled look.“Bloody hell,” you hear him mumble under his breath. “What the fuck are you talking?” There’s a seriousness in his voice now. His cocky facade disappears into nothingness. He’s frustrated, and it’s all because of you. 

You just couldn’t take it anymore. You needed to say it. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know how I feel.” Your voice is louder now, and it seems as though you’re practically begging to give away your hiding spot. “Neil I-,”

He covers your mouth with his left hand once again. “Alright that’s it,” His voice is still quiet, “You’re the one that needs to stop now. You don’t know how much I-,” 

You push him into the wall before he can get a word out, just as he had interrupted you seconds ago. 

You step out into the hallway. “I don’t know what? How much you don’t care about me?” You notice the sudden pain in Neil’s face. You didn’t expect that, but you also refuse to believe it’s real. “I don’t need you, Neil. I never have and I never will.” 

You begin walking down the hallway as Neil whisper shouts your name, trying to get you to come back without blowing your cover. 

“(Y/N)! Please!” He calls out. 

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality and stops you dead in your tracks, “(Y/L/N), I’ve been waiting to meet you.” It’s a familiar voice, a voice you’ve heard before. It’s bitter, callous and malignant. A chill runs up your spine as the name of the voice dawns on you. You flinch, quickly stepping backwards and spinning around to look at the devil-man in front of you. Although, you know he would prefer if you referred to him as a god. 

“Sator,” You curse, spitting on the ground disrespectfully. You brandish your gun, trying to put on your best fake-confident face. Sator doesn’t know you only have two bullets left, and quite frankly he doesn’t need to, you think to yourself. 

Before you can even aim, Sator launches towards you. 

You jump back, and turn around to run. There’s no way you could get away from him in what you were wearing. Your black kitten heals slowed you down a great deal. Your tight, black dress made it hard for you to move in any way at all. 

Sator is right behind you. You kick off your heels, allowing you to speed up a bit. While running barefoot is much better, you know you can’t last forever. You run for a few more seconds before realizing that Sator is only getting closer. 

You turn around, back peddling now. You hold your glock up and aim. 

BANG! 

The bullet misses Sator and ricochets off the tiled wall. What the fuck? You think to yourself as the bullet falls to the ground. The walls must be bullet proof or something. 

Sator is almost within an arm’s reach of you. You lift your gun again and take aim. 

BANG!

But it’s no use. you miss again. This time, the bullet hits such an angle that it comes back straight towards you. It grazes against your left side. 

“FUCK!” You cry out in pain, stumbling a bit. You try your best to continue running, but the pain is far too great to keep going. You feel your legs starting to give out. You crumble to the ground, letting a small whimper of pain escape your lips. You grab your side, blood draining into your hands and onto the floor. 

Sator chuckles maliciously. “You seriously thought you could get away? This is my place. You’re playing in my world,” He shakes his head and reaches for his gun. He points the weapon directly at your head,

“And just so you know, I’m God here.” 

Tears form in your eyes as you hear the gun cock. You brace yourself for impact as your thoughts find their way back to Neil. You hate how you left things, especially considering that would be the last conversation he ever had with you. Guilt began to grow heavy in your stomach. 

What a way to die, totally and completely guilty, a failure, and alone, You think to yourself, as tears fall down your cheeks.

Sator chuckles again. “Crying are we know? Too late for tears, (Y/N). I think you’re all out of time.” You shudder at his words and you prepare for this moment to be your last, shutting your eyes tightly. 

“No! (Y/N)!” A familiar voice cries out from behind you. 

BANG!

You open your eyes to see Sator standing in his place, the gun now pointing above your head. You look down and see a single bullet right next to you. It must have ricochetted off the wall, just like yours did. But where did it come from? You think. 

Turning around slowly, you spot who Sator is pointing his gun towards.

“N-Neil,” You stutter, wincing in pain simply from talking. His gun points back at Sator. His eyes nervously look you up and down. This was far different from when the evening started. You remembered the way Neil looked at you when you had finished getting ready. You remember how he knocked on the door to your hotel room and let himself in. He didn’t wait for you to give him the okay. 

“Wow,” Neil said, taken back by your tight, little black dress. He looked you up and down, seemingly removing each article of clothing in his head. “You look incredible.” 

You missed that moment now. You wish you could just go back. But now you were faced with reality, with a gun in your face. 

Sator looks down at you, and back up to Neil. “I think I’ll let you watch her die, and only after you watch her take her last breath, I’ll kill you too. How’s that?”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Neil states confidently. You look up at him, confused. 

Just as Sator pulls the trigger, Neil grabs your arm and slides you out of the way. 

In the near distance, just a short ways behind Sator, you see a fiery cloud of orange erupt, followed by a massive boom. Neil somehow was able to orchestrate some sort of explosion.

Sator stops in his tracks and turns to look behind him, giving Neil just enough time to pick you up and run down the hallway, turning down a series of other corridors in an attempt to outrun Sator. 

It isn’t long before Neil realizes that you’re bleeding onto him. “H-holy shit,” He looks down to your left side. “I need to get you out of here.” 

You ignore what he’s saying. “Why did you come back for me?” You whisper to Neil. 

He steals a quick look at you as he continues to run down the hallway, but he doesn’t answer your question. 

You clear your throat and try again. “Why did you come back?” 

He ignores you again as you approach an intersection of 3 hallways, each one looking the exact same as the one you’re currently in. Neil pauses for a second, contemplating his options. His heart is beating out of his chest. You’ve never seen him this nervous. While you had only been at Tenet for about half a year now, you had grown to know Neil far too well. The stolen moments you shared, the kisses you swore to tell no one about. You didn’t know what you were with Neil. You didn’t know if this was superficial or real to him. But, you knew his emotions like you knew the back of your hand. You could tell he was panicking. You had never seen him quite like this. Something was different. Suddenly, Neil grunts and choses to go down the hallway to your right. 

You wanted to say something to him, to talk to him, but you felt yourself falling in and out of consciousness. You knew you needed to stay awake. Neil looked down to check on you and immediately noticed your condition. 

“Stay with me, okay?” He begged. You had never heard Neil talk like this before. “Please stay with me. I’m right here, it’s going to be okay.” He started to pick up his pace, practically sprinting down the hallway now. 

“N-Neil?” You managed to call out to him. 

“Yes, darling?” He responded between gasps for air. You could tell that he was getting tired. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, looking around his body for any signs of blood or even for a possible gun shot wound. 

Neil starts to slow down a bit. He looks down at you again, “I’m alright. It’s you I’m worried about.” 

“You’re not actually worried, are you?” You ask. 

Neil stops for a second, completely out of breath. He takes this as an opportunity to look at your injuries again. He puts his hand over your wound and feels all the blood that’s there. He shakes his head, clearly nervous about how much blood you’ve lost. He readjusts his hold on you, making sure you’re secured in his arms.

He brings his face closer to yours. “Fuck, of course I’m worried about you,” He says in a stern tone. He seems annoyed at the thought that you didn’t know he cared about you. “What the fuck would make you think otherwise?” He isn’t just annoyed now, he’s angry, yet he doesn’t take his face away from yours. You can feel his breath on your nose, just like you did before. The wisps of his hair greet your forehead again too. 

“I-I guess I just don’t know how to read you,” You say, taking a deep breath once you finish your sentence. Neil quickly picked up on your labored breathing and began to jog again. 

There’s silence for just a few seconds before Neil finds the right words to say. “I came back for you because I care about you. The second you left I chased after you. You were just far too quick for me.” 

Your heart flutters in your chest. You didn’t know how much he cared for you. You figured he only saw you as a member of the team, a coworker, a girl to flirt with, someone he had to care for out of convenience and association. The way he was speaking now lead you to believe that he cared for you far beyond that. You stare up into his blue eyes, gathering the courage to finally confess how you feel to him. You felt yourself slipping more quickly out of consciousness, and you desperately wanted him to know how you felt. 

“Neil, I just want you to know that-,”

Your words are interrupted by the loud swinging of a door. Suddenly, you’re outside the now flaming building and in the bitter, dark night. The wind whips and nips at your bare skin. You take a quick look around and remember that you’re in Amsterdam. At least it’s a pretty place to die, You think to yourself. You shiver as the wind attacks you again. 

Neil notices how cold you are. He sets you down on a nearby bench and takes his brown suit jacket off, draping it over you. He picks you up and starts jogging again. 

Just a short ways up the street is the BMW he had been driving for the mission. He opens the car door with one hand, making sure to keep you nestled into his chest with the other. He puts you down on the passenger’s seat, buckles you in, and carefully shuts the door. 

When he gets in on the other side, he sees you drifting off again. “Come on, (Y/N), stay with me, please,” He pleads. He leans over to you and gently kisses your forehead. Your eyelids throw themselves open as Neil’s lips leave your skin. He starts the car engine and begins to drive away. He doesn’t say a thing, but you can’t stop thinking about what just happened. 

“What was that?” You ask, wondering if he simply did that to distract you, to wake you up. He had to know what effect he had on you. 

Neil doesn’t say a thing. He only speeds up, blasting through red lights and ignoring stop signs. You look over at him. He looks like an absolute mad man. His dirty blonde hair is a mess. Dark, purple bags rest under his blue eyes. 

At one point, Neil turns the on the radio and glances at you. “Try to listen to some music, maybe it can keep you awake.” Or maybe his concern for your well being could be enough motivation for you. 

It feels like I only go backwards baby,

Every part of me says, “Go ahead”

I got my hopes up again, oh no, not again,

Feels like we only go backwards, darling. 

Neil somehow gets even faster. You notice that he’s pushing the gas pedal all the way into the floor of the car. You manage to get out one final sentence before losing consciousness, “If I don’t die from this wound, I might die from your driving.”

Then, your eyes shut and the whole world goes black. 

——

Your eyes feel like they’re glued shut, but you force them to open. There’s an arm pulling you in tightly to a firm, warm chest. You inhale deeply, instantly recognizing the scent. 

It was Neil. His face was right in front of yours. He looked so calm, so relaxed. Either this was Heaven, or he somehow managed to save your life from his hotel room. You were hoping it was the latter. You wanted this to be real life.

Neil began to stir about a bit, but his arm never left your back. In fact, the more he stirs, the closer you seem to get to him. You decide to take it all in, because you know reality is going to come crashing down eventually. You know Neil is going to back off of you, apologize, and quickly say that he was merely watching over you to make sure you weren’t dying and didn’t mean to fall asleep. There was no way that he meant to hold you like that. 

“Good morning,” Neil said casually, not taking his arm off of you. He manages to pull you even closer still. Now your noses are touching. A playful smile stretches across Neil’s lips. 

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You’re shocked, too shocked to say a thing. 

Your silence makes Neil concerned, “What’s wrong? Did I do something? Are you in pain?”

You smile at him, “No, everything is okay. Of course I’m in pain, but this feels good.” Neil’s smile reappears. But, you’re still confused. “I just need to know something Neil,” You say, as the smile disappears from Neil’s face yet again. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks as he draws letters on your back, or at least that’s what it feels as though he’s doing.  

You shake your head slightly. “Nothing is the matter,” You pause, recalling the events of the previous night. “It’s just, am I okay? How much blood did I loose? And Neil I need to know how you feel about-,” 

Neil abruptly cuts your rambling off, “You’re alright. I took care of you after you passed out. I cleaned out the wound and sowed you up. It was easier to do with you asleep, to be honest. I don’t think you would’ve like it very much,” Neil grins before continuing, “Luckily your heart rate stayed completely stable the whole time.” 

You nod your head, waiting for him to address the half asked question towards the end of your rambling that he seemed to get the understanding of. But, there’s no response. 

You decide it’s time to say something. It can’t wait any longer. “Neil, I need to know what all this means. I need to know how you feel about me.” 

“Likewise,” He returns, but there’s no grin upon his face. He’s serious, if not somber. 

Regardless, you’re annoyed. “Likewise?” You repeat back to him. “I’ve liked you since the second I saw you, and I feel as though I’ve made that abundantly clear. I’ve given you all the signs, all the hints, and you just continue to play these stupid ga-,”

Neil cuts you off, “I had to sit there and watch you almost die. I worked on your wound all night. I’ve been fucking terrified for the past 12 hours wondering whether or not you would make it. I ditched the team to make sure you were safe, and I don’t regret that choice one bit. These aren’t games (Y/N). Being in love with someone isn’t a fucking game.” 

Silence fills the room. Being in love with someone…those words repeated over and over again in your head. You couldn’t let them go. 

Neil catches gaze and holds it. He’s waiting for something from you, but you don’t know how to communicate how you feel anymore. It was like he broke you. 

You know Neil can’t take the tension anymore, and before you can say a word, Neil’s lips hungrily crash into yours. He grabs your waist carefully, keeping you pulled in tight without hurting your wound. 

Neil’s lips leave yours. “Are you happy now?” He asks, brushing where he just was with his thumb. 

“Y-yes,” You say, wanting more. 

“Then it’s settled,” Neil states confidently. He smiles slyly, as he always does.

You’re confused beyond belief. “What is?”

“That you’re mine,” Neil says, taking your chin in between his index finger and thumb. He brings your face closer to his, and kisses you again. 

[theanonymouswriterb]

Dusk til’ Dawn

Prologue: The Queen saved the King

Paring: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Mafia Au Series

Warning: SMUT, literally porn on paper 😗, lots of fluff, violence, gang, bratty!reader, dom!tae, daddy!tae, daddy kink, babygirl kink, punishment, bigdick!tae, rough sex, make up sex, lots of after care, pregnancy kink, oral!sex, deep throating and everything in between🤧

Warning in this chapter: just blood, wounds and guns, well a gun

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary:

Kim Taehyung, Now a feared and well known crimes boss but not was he always the man that he is today, searching for the women that saved him on the day that changed his life forever. Willing to sacrifice everything to find the women that could tame him.

One day after 5 years she shows up in his night club, will he be able to hold himself back from taking her and claiming her as his queen or will he do what he do everything in his power to make her his?

A/N: Hi, this is the first chapter that I’m releasing and it’s basically the prologue of how they met, hope you guys like it, if you want to be tagged please tell me and don’t forget to leave some feedback. Also I might be releasing chapter 1 tonight or early tmr, I just need to read though it for mistakes. Much love 💕😗 -B

~

Next chapter

Five Years Ago

The sound of police sirens roams the city, as darkness and fog rain down on Seoul city. Helicopters roaring the skies and the bad guy trying to hide. Kim Taehyung, A man being tracked down by polices and rival gangs from a exchange gone wrong, blood spewing from his stomach and bruises on his face as he runs through the alley. The only thing in his mind right now is to survive the night and make it make it back home alive, or at least die trying.

He keeps running and running for his life as he hears footsteps behind him like the devil is chasing me to take away his life and drag him to hell but he isn’t ready to die yet! Not just yet. He still has a lot more things to accomplish and until he does that not even the devil himself can drag him to hell.

The cut in his stomach is deep and the pain his unbearable but he has to keep it up and there’s no stopping cause if he’s stops he’ll get caught like a mouse in a trap. But he is no mouse, no fucking mouse at all. He’s a fucking mighty lion, no a fucking Dragon that’s roaring and will get his revenge on the people that played him, the ones he thought were family and sold him out. He will kill who ever gets in his way but he’ll just have to survive the deadly night as it calls out to him .

The pain keeps worsening and worsening but he doesn’t know what to do but clutch onto the stomach and hope for the best. A dragon doesn’t die easily, it’s gonna take more than a pack of Hyenas to take down this mighty Dragon.

But the Dragon wasn’t always like this, he had a family, that until he was left in front of an adoption center with no note no fucking idea of where he came from or who his parent were, he spent all his life trying to find out what happened that night that someone decided to leave him, was he not worth the love that a baby deserved? Was he that worthless that his parents gave him up for adoption? Was he not enough. These sentences rang through his mad all his life up til now, the day he’s praying to what every god is listening to him to not let him die, he will keep fight on and on until he’s on top of the food chain.

Kim Taehyung grew up to do bad things, very bad bad things, join gangs at a very young age, was made into the leaders puppet and rose up slowly to be the right hand man of the Cobra gang.

The cobra gang was well known gang of youths in their 20s doing wilds shits like shootouts with the police and drug dealing and selling girls, the reason Kim Taehyung joined the gang at such a young age was to survive, he didn’t like the idea of selling people, doing drugs or anything as such but he had to survive, in a world full of

Cobras and Hyenas he had to survive. He mad a living out of this and he rose to be the right hand man of the Cobras but oh man, that didn’t didn’t go down well.

Did it!?

The thing that burns him was that he was never a Cobra, never was and never will be.

A few miles away at Seoul estate town houses ~

Walking into her house Y/N sighed, “can this day get any worse” she flopped down in the sofa and looked at her phone, hoping for a call from a certain someone, but what was she hoping for?

She got up from the sofa and strutted up to her master bedroom. From the ceiling hung a huge diamond chandelier, to the side floor to ceiling widows, fine famous artwork hung on the walls and in the middle room, her queen sized bed made for the queen herself. Her room was every girls dream, a large space with with many expensive things, a humongous walk in wardrobe filled with designer clothings, shoes, purses and more. Y/N could get anything she wanted, whether it’s cars, houses, clothes, she could get anything she wanted, but she was no brat. Well maybe sometimes.

Walking into the closet, she took her suit attire off, she was promoted to the creative designer of Givenchy and got everything she wanted on her way up the ladder but the pressure on her shoulders were too real. She looked at the mirror in mirror in front of her and saw her figure, she was a beautiful girl no doubt about that, she was fine as hell, the only thing that could fault her was her mind, the mind that thinks she could be a failure to her family.

After changing into a white tank top and joggers she walked back out into her bedroom and down towards the living room that Intertwined with the kitchen.

Y/n turned the kettle as she walked from the kitchen to the living room, she sat down on her sofa and smiled as she turned in the tv “ finally, I get to sit the fuck down” she groaned. As she scrolls through Netflix a call comes through a phone. She looked at her phone screen and smiled at the name of no one else but her best friend E, short for EziKia, a girl she has known since she was a baby, their fathers grew up together and were very close with each other and that’s how they greet up to know each other. “Hey bitch” her best friend spoke “ how was work?!” She continued. As Y\N looked at the TV she replied “girl it was a disaster, you know how I get when I have to present my work”. “I know” her best friend laughed “But I’m sure you did fine and I’m sure they loved every bit of your design for the new collection” her best friend smirked as she spoke, “I’m already proud of you, I’m fucking excited for the new collection to drop”

Y/n’s a young girl, she always grew up with her parents love and affection but couldn’t find her place in the world, alright she had everything she wanted from her parents, finding love within her self was hard. Yes she has confidence, yes she’s amazingly breathtaking and beautiful, she doesn’t need anyone to tell her then cause she knows that and she knows she bad and she can get everything she wants in this world. She knows she worth all that. But why is it so hard for her to find love, not with any man but within herself, it is almost as if she hides behind this facade of confidence. Her insecurity’s ushers to come out of her but she builds this facade to hide it front he world. And the one thing she is most scared of is losing her family if she doesn’t make them proud. She feels as if it’s hard to love herself and make everyone else proud of her.

Y/N groaned as we moved on the sofa and said “I hope so, enough about me and my day, how was yours?” Ester sighed “ my day was amazing until I got home and got into an argument with my Khai” Y/N rolled her eyes and asked “what was the argument about this time?!” “ He dreamt that I cheated on him and he got mad at me!” Y/N couldn’t hold I get laughter and laughed out loud “ what the hell, now that is too funny”

“ well now he’s still mad at me for no reason and I won’t be the first person to apologize cause it wasn’t me fault to begin with”. EziKia replied

“Well it was your fault” Y/N began “ you cheated on him” “In his dream”they both said at the same time.

Ezikia and her boyfriend Khai have been dating for a while now and they’re hopelessly in love but they argue about the summery things in the world, which is why Y/N think they’re a perfect match cause they’re literally dumb and dumber.

The kettle hissed and Y/N spoke “ what’re you up to now anyways” as she Stirred her tea waiting for ester to reply. “ nothing if I’m honestly just playing games at the moment” she laughed out,”what about you”. “ just made some tea and about to watch haunted on Netflix” Y/N replied and she sat down on the sofa and pressed play.

A moment of silence filled the room.

“Have you spoken to J yet?” The voice of her friend E rang through the phone

“Who?” she replied

Sighing out in frustration her friend spoke “ You know who Y/N, you can’t stay mad it him forever he’s also your friend”

“I’m not mad at him E” she hushed out looking at her phone.

J short for Jungkook was Y/N other friend, they were very close, they loved each other but they both didn’t have the guts to tell each other that, it could fuck up the friendship but it was only friendship right?, they would always fight and instantly make up but this was different, they weren’t speaking but it’s not like it’s her fault....right? J was always a nice guy, treating her the best, they would always flirt with each other but it wasn’t anything serious, it was always just games but when she saw him kissing another person, her heart felt like it exploded and she felt like she had been betrayed and betrayal was too real to bear.

But how could this be a betrayal if they aren’t in love? That’s what they both keep telling themselves right?

He’s not her responsibility and she doesn’t love him like that, but she keeps lying to herself and he betrayed her and so she can’t let it go. Not just yet, she just needs to stay mad at him just a little longer.

The rain began to fall as she spoke to her friend, they laughed and continued speaking, hours has passed and the clock struck midnight and they said their goodnight and they both hung up. As she continued watching the tv, the rain outside came worse, Turning into a thunder storm. The wind whistled outside and lighting struck and she could hear the Thunder roaring. She began to shiver at the should and the flashes outside her windows “ why the fuck am I sacred of thunder” she whispered to herself as she continued to watch the series, it still came as a shock to her at how she was some what scared of the sound of thunder and lighting but she’s able to sit through and watch a full series of horror stories by herself at night.

Hours and hours had passed as she watched the series and she felt her eyes beginning to fall close and she then drifts of to sleep on her cloud like sofa and feels like dreams.

She dreams about her future, what it would be like if she followed what her parents told her to become, maybe then she would think she wasn’t such a Failure to her family.

Although her parents were always supportive, Y/N felt that she wasn’t enough, she saw the look on their face of disapproval when she said she wanted to become a fashion designer, it was like she disappointed her parents saying what she said and wanting to become a designer instead of a doctor. But her parents were always proud of what a women she had become and loves her deeply. However she felt that just In case her fashion career doesn’t workout, she learnt a few tricks from her older sister who was obviously a doctor about how to deal with someone is had been wounded.

The man still on the run 10 minutes away~

Kim Taehyung on the other hand was also having the worst fucking day of his entire life! How could this get any worse, first the drug and money exchange gone wrong with the rival gang, obviously he was set up to fail by you know who and now he’s not just running from the gang who are out to kill him for more money and truce between the gangs as Kim Taehyung’s boss thought he was out to take his place on the Cobras throne.

Now with the police are after him too, since he was like the “ right hand man to the king “cobra” he knew a lot about him and the police where out to shut all the bullshit down but Taehyung had his loyalty, but how loyal can a ‘dog’ be if he’s been abandoned but he never snitches. Running from the gangs, Taehyung has a run in with the police and they saw him at his venerable place, bruised up and cut deep, so they decided to take him out to show the “king cobra” what they could do with his “people”.

But obviously that was fucking useless cause they used him and played him hard.

And Taehyung was no longer a cobra at this moment of betrayal, Kim Taehyung knew where his loyalty lies and that was with himself, he will get his revenge on everyone that played him, the cobra, the police & his family.

He continued running as his life depended on it, but he never looked back to see if he was being followed he kept his eyes straight forward and went on. The rain kept pouring on him as he ran and ran and ran like there was no end to the road, he suddenly slowed down as he crouched down in pain and held his stomach, “fuuuck” he groaned. He wasn’t going to let today be the day that he died, he had a lot to live for if he wanted his revenge. He got up again clinging to stomach and continued walking. As he approached a few blocks of town houses, he had to get out of the rain and get some help of else he might die, he walked up the stairs to bang in the door but there was no response. He then continued to the next few houses but there was still no response. He groaned in frustration as there was no one to help him. He then saw a light at the end of the block of houses and walks towards the light, walked up the stairs and banged on the door as if trying to break down the door.

He continued banging on the door as if it was his last resort which it was, he whispered out all his might but the only thing that came out was a soft breath “please help” he never thought he would have to resort to begging but here he was outside a strangers door, hair and clothes drenched from the storm asking for help not knowing if the person inside would be kind enough to help a poor stranger in need.

As if he gave up, he leaned against the door and shut his eyes closed, but then he heard foot steps coming from the other side other door and the locks clicked and the door Swung open. He looked up slowly from down at the strangers feet to the face and he saw the stranger in front of him, “wow she’s beautiful” he thought to himself,

“Thank you” he sighed out of relief as his vision became blurry and everything went black.

At Y/N House ~

Y/N woke up from her sleep hearing banging on the front of her door, she lifted herself up from her sofa that was way to comfortable to leave the room and groaned out “ who the fuck is banging on my door at the hour”.

As she got up she realised that she fell asleep on the sofa and left the lamp on.

She looked at her clock and it was almost 3 am, she then whispered “ why do I always either get waken up or wake up at around 3am” as if she was scared and her suspicions came creeping in the back of her mind. And she thought ghost always wonder around at 3 AM. She then was pulled from her thoughts by the loud bang at the door again and she slowly made her way to the front of the house and she saw a figure standing outside, she thought to herself thinking she shouldn’t open up the door to strangers at this hour, as she slowly turned to leave she suddenly hears a cry of help “please help” the stranger whispered silently.

As she heard the cry of help, she thought to herself “ I should probably help this person” “ but what if the pardon is a Pedophile or someone really dangerous” as if her demon and angel thoughts were fighting each other she huffed out a breath and walk towards the door turned the lock opened the door. There stood a tall man twice her size, built like a Greek GOD, dressed in a suit that was drenched from the rain droplets of water falling from his fringe a hand holding onto his stomach that was bleeding, bruises on his face and the other hand holding onto the doorframe. The man then looked from down at her feet, then his eyes lifted up to her face, she then saw him smile for a second then his eyes suddenly shut closed and he fell forwards towards her.

Her eyes grew wide was she was trying to hold her balance and trying to hold a man twice her size that just fainted at her door step. Not knowing what to do as the man’s head laid on her shoulder, she then whispered “ fuck it” then leaned sideways and the man dropped to the floor. Sighing she looked down at the stranger that passed out on her, who she then dropped to the door, frustration and guilt overpowering her mind and she closed her eyes and thought for a moment.

She then crouched down, grabbed him from under his armpits and dragged him a little further into the house and closed the door. She then began to slowly drag him through her house to the living room, “ damn he’s fucking heaving” she choked out. After a though 20 minutes grafting him through her house, She then was able to lay him on her couch that she adored very much and said “ well maybe that wasn’t the best idea” as her white couch began to turn red form blood stain that fell form the stranger. Then her eyes turned to the gun that sat perfecting in the holster wrapped around the mans body. “Shit”. Her face was stoned cold from shock, asking herself why this man had a gun on him and why he was bleeding and she palmed then slapped her forehead, sighing out loud in frustration and anger at herself for helping this possibly dangerous handsome man.

She looked at him and for a few seconds fought with her self, asking herself if she should still help this stranger for all she knows he could be really dangerous. She shook off her thought and went into her bathroom to the her first AID kit to help this poor, passed out man on her couch. She ran back into the living room, crouched down lifted his shirt to tend to his wounds and bruises.

As she opened up his shirt she saw how beautiful he was built, the tone muscles that covered him and the tattoos that bloomed on his chest. She also noticed that he had many scars in his body, the ones where it shows be fought for his life.

As time passes, she stared at the beautiful but bruised up stranger and couldn’t help but feel bad for him, she thought of many things that he must have gone trough and couldn’t help but wonder who this man is.

Time deciding to go really fast~

The clocked struck 7:30 am and very loud pound bang came though the house from the door at the front. Y/N opened her eyes slowly and saw the stranger lying into of her, she hadn’t know that she fell asleep looking at the stranger and she drifted into her thoughts. Then the loud bang pulled her from her thought and she hurried to her feet and went to the door. The door opens and she saw a group on men in uniform. The mother-fucking police. “ Hi miss, sorry to disturb you this fine morning, We just wanted to ask you a few questions if that is ok” she nods her head and the police proceeded to ask the questions. “ Did a man came knocking on you door last night?” She hesitated for a moment and shook her head no and the made some notes in their notebooks and proceeded to ask another. “ Did you see or hear anything suspicious last night” she shook her head again said “ no officer” and the officer furrowed their eyebrows and said “Miss your are not lying to us are you?” she then replied “ no “ and they ushered “ Miss you need to tell us if you saw anything cause this man is a very dangerous man and he killed a lot of people and we need your help” The silence loomed around them but Y/N didn’t say a word. Although she just heard of how dangerous this man was, she helped him and already lied and there was no going back.

She could be arrested for helping a criminal and lying about it. The shock on her face was clear but she payed it off well and shook her head in disagreement and said “no officer, i didn’t see anything or any man of any sort” and smiled softly hoping to get them off her back.

The police stared at her as if they knew she was lying carried on saying,

“ Then miss what is this blood stain that is here on your door step?” She was surprised as she didn’t realize there would be blood at her door step even though a bleeding man was just at her foot steps a few hours ago. She then huffed out trying to sound as smooth as possible, then lied “ You see officer, last night I came home late From my boyfriend house and I forgot my underwear at his house, you know what happened there” she winked “ I came on my period and bled on the floor and I forgot to clean it up” she then thought “what the fuck was I thinking lying to the police like that, this is embarrassing” They’re not gonna believe that are they?

As she opened her mouth to speak again she stopped her herself as she saw the flustered faces on the officers, they then said “ oh, sorry miss, s-sorry to bother you and thank you for your help” then then bowed and turned and walked back to their car.

Y/n shocked at her own words hurriedly shut the door and leaned against it and spoke” fuck that was embarrassing”. As she turned she was greeted with a shirtless man with patched of wounds that SHE patched up holding a gun towards her head. Her eyes then widened in shock but not fear, “ so this is how your gonna treat your saviour?!” She spoke, the silent that came after could Pierce through someone like a knife, he then softly growled in a low husky voice “ thank you “ and lowered his gun. “You’re welcome “ she said as she rolled her eyes, bumped his shoulders and walked past him back towards the kitchen.

He then turned to follow the small girl that helped him last night. As they entered the kitchen he spoke lowly “ so YOU were the one that was bleeding in front of your own door” he asked, she then said with confidence “YES, the reason I said that was to save your ass and I don’t even know you” she turned to look at him and met his ice cold gaze, if looks could kill she would be dead right now. “ that’s right, you don’t know me” he hushed out “ so why would you help me” he raised his gun again. “ Will you stop raising your gun at me” she shouted, he then touched his stomach in pain. She then asked with worry in her voice “ are you ok”.. nothing, there was silence as she watched him crouch in pain. “Yea....I’m fine for now” he whispered, y/n furrowed her eyes brows and looked at him with sympathy and said “ do you want some pain killers?” He nodded and she turned on her feet to search trough her drawers for pain killers and sprung back into the kitchen to give home the medicine. She watched as he gulped down the pain killer with a glass of water and smiled, relieved that she was able to help him. She then broke the silence, “ since I don’t know you, want to tell me who you are?”

“No” he bluntly said he got up to pick his shirt up from the side of the sofa and put it on. “Also, who gave you permission to take my clothes off” he said glaring at her. She then scoffed “ dude, you seriously need to get you anger and manners in check, I helped you and this is how your repaying me!” His gaze soften at her words but then he frowned again saying “you don’t have to tell me every minute that you saved me”

Y/n couldn’t believe what the hell was going on, this man she just saved from DEATH itself never mind the police, DEATH! was treating her like this. But maybe he was right she thought, maybe she didn’t have to shove it in his face every minute that she saved him, “sorry” she said Turning from him as he was finally dressed in his bloodied clothes.

As she walked away, he slowly turned his head and leave into the kitchen, he thought to himself that he should be great full that this beautifully kind stranger helped him when no one else would. He then followed her into the kitchen and watch her make food for them. He watched as she busied herself in the kitchen with her task and a smile crept of his face. There was literally and angel right in front of him but he couldn’t give her the satisfaction of that and so his smile disappeared as she turn to look at him.

They then stared at each other for a few minutes and as if time slowed down he couldn’t believe his eyes, it was like love at first sight, he couldn’t believe he was falling in love with this stranger at their first meet but it couldn’t be love could it? He’s just great full for her helping him...isn’t he?

“What are you staring at” she broke the silence

“Obviously not you” he replied harshly

He has to be rude and he can’t fall in love with her not now and not ever, because of who he is, if he falls in love with her she could be a target to the gangs and it’s not like she’s in love with him anyway, she’s probably so scared for him and wouldn’t want anything to do with him after he leaves. He thought and sighed.

Y/n watched him as he lowered his gaze and thought to her self what this stager has gotten himself into that he’s running from the police, he’s such a beautiful and muscular man with tattoos that covered his body and instantly she almost fell in love. ALMOST. She was just glad she was able to help him and continued looking at him in pity.

A few moments had passed and she continued making the breakfast and he gazed up at her and watch her work.

She could literally be the light of his world but his world is to damn dangerous.

A few minutes later she had made breakfast, she turned and shoved the plate towards him “ Eat . You’ll need the energy” “thanks” he whispered and they both ate in silence. “I’m Taehyung” she looked up towards him as he broke the silence “I’m Y/N” “nice to meet you” he countered and then said softly “thank you for saving my life Y/N”.

Then awkward silence filled the room.

She shyly looked up from her plate and broke the silence again saying “ Why were the police looking for you?”

“ That’s none of your business” he said harshly and glared at her with his Piercing eyes

“Well it’s now my business since I helped you, why the were the police chasing you?” She shouted back

“ I don’t give a fuck that you helped me, I can literally kill you right now” laughing as he spoke out.

“ You really have a rude temper you know that?” She glared

Gazing back at her slowly, he opened his mouth to speak.

“I know” he spoke softly as if she just tamed him.

He watched as she got back to eating, and he watched the way she ate her food and how her lips moved as she continued speaking..as if he couldn’t like her more than he already does, everything she does changes him and makes him weaker than he currently is.

She was a girl full of sassiness and confidence but was also very kind and warm hearted and he couldn’t help but fall hard.

Was it wrong?

He got up as her gaze came up to meet his face,

He then leaned in over the small table and pecked her lips with his.

SMACK!

Out of shock her hand landed in his beautiful bruised face and he groaned out in pain “fuck, I deserved that” as he leaned back in his chair.

“ yes you deserved that!” She shouted back and he rose from his seat, rounded the table and approached her, grabbed her face and kissed her hard on the lips , flames rose up Y/N face and she shoved him backwards and slapped him hard again “ the fuck is wrong with you” she screamed. Taehyung held his face and smirked saying “ thank you for saving me princess”, he turned, put on his blazer then left, Y/N still shocked from what just happen lifted her hands to her lips and touched her lips softly with her fingers as she heard the door closed.

That was the first and last time last time they both saw each other.

The King just met his queen.

Tags: @sugarplummies

[mah-gah-lee]

What a weird family reunion Reggie x  Reader (xLuke)

gif originally posted by @jatpsource​

Word Count: 3515 words

 Summary: You’re Reggie’s little sister. You were 3 when he died. You’re now a ghost for a decade. One night, you recognize your brother and jumped into him to an unexpected family reunion. How is it going to happen? Will Reggie believe you? In a mysterious way, that’s Luke who help you to convinced Reggie.

 Warnings: cuss (language), mention of death, mention of divorce, mention of drugs

 A/N: This is my first fic about jatp characters. Hope you’ll enjoy! keep in mind that french is my first language, so i’m so sorry if there’s some mistakes in my fic

 disclaimer: It takes place during episodes 6 and 7. I do not take into account the possibility of a Juke. The chemistry while they sing is there but no romantic feelings.

 Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics​ @standingtalllove​ 

 _______

Losing a child is the worst thing a parent could live, losing two is unimaginable. It’s seems being 17 years old was a new malediction in Peters family.

 You were 3 when your older brother, Reginald, died in a weird hot dog accident. At that point, your parents were literally a fight away from a divorce but never did it because of you. You were too young to be in a divided family, according to them. But Reggie's death separated them for good. Yet they really tried to support each other, to overcome that and give you all the attention you needed. But your mother overprotected you and made you live in the shadow of your late brother. Your dad couldn't stand it. And when they finally divorce, moving out from reggie’s childhood house, you went to live with your dad.

 Even though you were too young to form a strong bond with your brother, in a way you missed him. Your mother’s house was full of pictures of him, some of his clothes were still in a room, dedicated to him. When you visited your mother, you didn’t understand why you always found yourself in this room. You were drawn like a magnet to the comforting room. Reggie’s presence in this new house brought you such a sense of security that your mother had repeatedly found you asleep on a pile of your brother’s T-shirts.

 And then you died in 2009. Kanye West had interrupted Taylor Swift's speech at the VMAs, Miley Cyrus hadn't gone crazy yet and One Direction didn't exist yet. What an era! You didn't know why the great light didn't come looking for you but you were there, as a ghost in 2009. And the time has passed ... You've had your best concerts, the best parties. A forever teenager who couldn't eat, drink or sleep.

 And then 2020 came.

 …

 You were tired of always doing the same thing for over a decade, but you couldn't help but go to every open scene that came up in your beautiful city. It was as if an inexplicable force was pushing you to go there.

 This evening was no exception to the rule and you were in a very hip little bar in the city center. You wore one of those sleeveless, gray crop tops with high waisted pants, your leather jacket draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were directly drawn to a group of girls in colorful costumes. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It's been 10 years since you died and it seemed to you that these girls looked like the same plagues that ruined the lives of so many teenagers in your time. You put on an expression of disgust when they all took the stage, but when the music started you couldn't help but admit it was pretty catchy. However, you didn't expect a ghost to appear in the middle of the stage, improvising a choreography. Was that part of the show?

 But looking at the audience's non-reaction, you knew it wasn't. The ghost disappeared for the first time, and your gaze sought directly the distinctive light source of another apparition in the room. Your gaze lingered on a small group of three boys - the blond boy included - and two girls. You have wrinkled your eyes to better distinguish the teenagers, and your face expressed confusion.

 “Reggie? “

 You wanted to go see him so badly. You were pretty sure it was your brother but it all came too fast. The moment you decided to walk towards them, the organizer announced a new band.

 “Okay, looks like we're close the night out with one more group…Julie and the fat ones.”

 What was that for a name? Your attention had been diverted and when you looked back at the group, the boys had disappeared as one of the young girls took the stage. Your heart was beating so fast. You couldn't go wrong; you had seen so many pictures at your mother's house that it was impossible that this boy was not your brother. But you missed your chance…

 Julie started to sing and your eyes were captivated, as much as your ears were. This kid was so talented! When she sang a rather high note, the tension in the room charged into electricity. The next second, the young singer was joined by the group of boys you had seen in her company. Appearing distinctly as the ghosts did. On drums there was the blond boy you had seen dancing a few moments earlier, on the electric guitar, a boy with tousled brown hair who seemed slightly familiar to you ... and on bass, with a flannel shirt, there was your brother ... Reggie was there, identical to the photos you had admired so much.

 The bar was on fire as Julie and The Phantoms performed. What a sick name for a group made up of two-thirds of ghosts! The song was so catchy that your heart beat to the sound of the music. But your eyes did not leave your brother, you were unable to move, frozen in place. What should you do ? Will you introduce yourself after the performance? And, what would you say? "Hey hi Reggie, I'm your sister, I died ten years ago and you twenty-five years ago. Unbelievable, right?! Nice to see you again" And once again, before you knew it, the song was over and the boys were gone again, leaving Julie alone on stage in the bewilderment of the many people in the facility.

 “for God's sake, where are they?”

 You didn't want to miss it anymore. Even though the whole situation was strange, you wanted to see your brother again.

 Your eyes flew over the room before seeing the scene play out before your eyes. Julie seemed petrified in front of a man. The boys watched in amazement and as Julie left with what appeared to be her father, you rushed over to the group of three musicians before they disappeared again.

 “omg please don't poof out again.” You said almost out of breath

 The boys looked at you like you were crazy before the guitarist jumped off the bar counter, bursting with energy.

 "Wait, you can see us?"

 “as much as when mister "all eyes on me" made his performance”, you were pointing your head at the blond boy.

 The group looked at each other in puzzlement and Reggie finally spoke, his blue eyes full of mischief.

 “So…hi there cutie, how can we help you?”

 Your face expressed disgust and you stuck your tongue out mimicking vomiting.

Luke gave Alex an amused smile, seeing Reggie flirting and your spontaneous reaction. The bassist couldn't help but charm the pretty ladies.

 “Wow Reggie, that's gross ... you're my brother.”

  Reggie burst out laughing at your response, not noticing that you called him by his first name when he hadn't even introduced himself to you yet.

 “Yeah right, for sure. You just could tell me you weren’t interested. But I’m charming...”

 It was the first time he had been given such an excuse but you looked so serious that he stopped dead in his tracks as Luke and Alex watched you. They always knew Reggie had a sister. But the scene unfolding before their eyes seemed impossible. (Y / N) was so young when they died and now must have been around 28, something like that. But the girl in front of them was a teenager, their age. How was this possible?

 You didn't want to drop the information like that. It was worse than anything you could have imagined. But it had escaped you. Now he didn't take you seriously. Your eyes were wet with tears. It was scary to find you in front of your brother for the first time as a ghost teenager. Luke looked panicked when he noticed your eyes, squeezing Reggie's shoulder as you seemed to beg.

 “Can I ... can I meet you in a quieter time please, Reginald?”

 Your brother's eyes widened as Luke's hug on his shoulder tightened a bit. The eagerness and desperation in your voice had made both boys react, Alex was just looking at all of you like all of this wasn't real. The use of Reggie's name made him tense, surprised. Few called him Reginald. In fact, only his family, and the boys when they wanted to annoy him, called him that way. And although his nickname is obvious enough to deduce his

full first name, he deeply felt that you weren't just anyone.

  He seemed a little panicked and looked around for his friends to support him. As if the solution would fall by itself just by the presence of Luke and Alex.

 “Okay, but I want Luke and Alex’s there! What about tomorrow? I’ll give you the address!”

 Wow, that was quick.

 “hm, yeah, yeah sure, as you want”

 You nodded and Reggie silently slipped a note to the drummer. Alex took a pen, write something on a paper towel and gave it to you. You weren’t surprise, you also can make some tricks. And you just had the time to thanks them before they poofted again.

 …

 The next day, you landed in front of Julie's garage. Lucky she's at school because you shouldn't be explaining your presence, so she managed to see you the way she saw boys.

 Before entering, you peeked out the window and frowned. There seemed to be only Luke so far. He was leaning over the piano, his head in a notebook. Your body went through part of the garage door and you cleared your throat.

 “hmm, hi ... i came to see Reggie ..”

 Luke instantly raised his head and you caught his attention.

 “oh uh, hi! He should be here soon, come in.….”

 Silence felt as Luke motioned for you to sit on the couch. It was a rather pleasant studio; the plants gave a warm atmosphere to the room and the music set sent you good vibes.

 "Does your girlfriend mind that I'm here? I mean, that seems to be your HQ"

 "girlfriend?"

 "The girl you sing with" I simply said.

 "Julie? Um, yeah, she's not my girlfriend. She-sh-she’s great and we have this powerful connection but…not, not in a romantic way. Music tied us. Music and friendship "

 Luke chuckled lightly as he scratched his head. You were surprised they weren't dating. Yesterday the tension was intense. He seemed authentic when he had continued his momentum. You let out a smile amused by so much overflow.

 “It's okay, I don't need to know your full relationship statute or your social security number.”

 The guitarist gave you a frank smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. For a ghost, his gaze was really alive.

 “ I’m Luke, by the way”

 "Y / N… Re .."

 "Reggie's little sister… I-I remember you a little."

 "You look familiar to me. Maybe I saw you in a few pictures with Reggie."

 Silence fell and you started to feel anxious. Maybe it was a bad idea? You had grown up since Reggie died ... were you still his little sister after all? Luke seemed to notice your dismay and put a comforting hand on your knee.

 “hey, is something bothering you?”

 “What if he doesn't believe me ... if he definitely thinks I'm not his sister.”

 “Let's be honest, it's a little hard to believe. The last time I saw you, you were three years old.”

 It was as if the memories flooded into your mind and let you carried away in your words.

 “Yeah, you gave me this teddy bear with a guitar and told Reggie you wanted to be my favorite.”

 Luke chuckled slightly before staring at you, speechless. He seemed dazed. This anecdote dates back to twenty-five years anyway. He himself had a hard time remembering it until you said it a few seconds earlier.

 “what was the smell of the stuffed animal?” he asked, confused about that funny fact

 “sorry, what?”

 “the plush, what did it smell like?”

 “hot waffle, why?”

 “okay ... maybe you are his sister ... tell me more about what you remember”

 You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Everything had been so natural before he stopped in all the movements. And now, it was hard to think about for the memories you had of Reggie on demand. The teddy bear given by Luke story had slipped out of your mind without you realizing it. As your brain seemed to boil, the fog of your thoughts cleared.

 “can I use your guitar?”

 “hell no ... why?” Luke exclaimed with far too much anticipation

 “I have this lullaby stuck inside of my head ... I think Reggie sang it to me when I was a child”

 Your pleading and desperate gaze fell on Luke who categorically refused to let you take his guitar. He ends up grabbing his six acoustic strings, terminated. There was something about you that made him weak.

 “Maybe you can teach me but ... my guitar is my guitar, nobody touches it.”

 You nodded and the lead singer moved closer to you. You were stunned by its smell, like a distant memory. Luke had definitely been a part of your life before he died, you were sure of that. You leaned over her shoulder, humming the lullaby that was left in your head. It didn't take long for him to find the right chords. Luke continued several times before you stopped singing, looking at him intently.

 “that's exactly it ... this lullaby”

 You both looked at each other, an indecipherable expression in your eyes. You both jumped at the sound of the garage door. Reggie appeared with Alex.

 "Ready to compose hellish songs! oh did I interrupt something?”

 "No, no I was there to see you. I guess you have a lot of questions."

 "hell yeah, can we start from the beginning?"

  You smiled to approve his request. The boys settled down on the sofa, while you sat down on one of the single armchairs. And the flow of questions began

  “When are you born?”

 “(your birthday date) 1992” you simply answered.

 “What’s your name?”

 (y/n) (y/m/n) Peters

 It’s seemed to convinced a little Reggie but doubt was all over his face.  It was information you could easily get on the internet nowadays.

 “What’s my favorite food?”

 “Pizza, mom said your favorite was the extra cheese with pepperoni”

 “And what was my favorite toy?”

 “I freaking don’t know, how can I suppose to known that?”

 “ah ah!” he pointed the finger at you, as if that answer was proof that you were lying. It broke your heart but you didn't show it.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and Reggie kept going to ask you some question. Of course, you would have liked to have answered his questions correctly. Your mother told you some anecdotes about him but not to the point of knowing all the details.

 “What’s the most terrible thing I said to my mom?”

 “Omg I don’t fucking know! I was 3 when you’re died, asshole!”

 Luke smiled when you exploded. Reggie was Reggie, as weird as possible. Now you were angry and desperate. Your brother didn’t believe you and he kept dragging you into this miserable feeling that you were never going to get your brother back. You had spent your short life living with a faint memory of him. Your blankie was one of his t-shirts, his voice reasoned in your head when you couldn’t sleep.

But then, in front of him, you were a stranger to him. Your heart was bruised from not being able to hug him and to finally meet this brother who had left far too soon.

 “Okay, okay… So, how can you proof me you’re really my sister?! “

 In the room’s corner, Luke looked at you, you looked desperate, about to cry again. He grabbed his guitar and cleared his throat. Reggie turned to him as the guitarist still had his eyes on you, a heartwarming smile hanging across his face. You had managed to convince him in a few minutes. He felt connected to you and the things you told him were disturbing. You could only be Reggie's sister; it was impossible otherwise.

 "Hey…What about the song you told me earlier." he said with a soft and comfort voice

 Your eyes caught his gaze, grateful for the initiative. You nodded and Luke started playing the few notes you had taught him a few minutes earlier. It was so different from all the songs the brunette could play before. It was a lullaby, such easy children's music with just a few notes.   Of course, the band wasn’t supposed to play when Julie wasn’t in the room but, Luke had thought it was the best thing to do to encourage you to keep going. He didn’t know why, but he wanted Reggie to believe you. Luke believed you, hard as nails. There only had to look at your eyes to understand this reality, and Luke had noticed that. You had the same blue eyes as your brother. How could Reggie still doubt that? You started to sing

 You're so sleepy

Very much sleepy

You want to go to the fairyland

You close your eyes

And jump into your dream.

When you'll wake up

I’ll still be on your team.

 The instant Reggie heard the first notes, he knew. But hearing you sing the lullaby he had invented for you when you didn't want to sleep as a child, was a magical moment. You were his baby sister. He gave you that sad little puppy face, so overwhelmed. Reggie opened his arms and you jumped into a hug, so glad he finally accepted the fact that you were his sister.

You felt oddly safe again, like taking a nap in Reggie's pile of old t-shirts. You were so happy to find your brother and to be able to live your non-life by his side. Nothing would be as boring as it used to be. Reggie pushed you away with a concerned look

 "but wait ... how did you die?"

 "Yeah ... I don't really know ... I was at a really, really good rock concert and I bought this drink ... and I think I got drugged up there and ... I guess I'm dead? tadaa " you tried to tell him in a light tone.

He had just learned that he had a little sister. He didn't have to know that she was sneaking out at rock concerts and drinking alcohol before she was old enough. Right? Alex looked at Luke and Reggie with his half amused half confused smile. As for Luke, he fidgeted from foot to foot at the discovery. Y / N was as much rock and roll as they all were. Rebellion had to be his middle name

You loosened Reggie's embrace and lowered your head, pursing your lips so as not to show your embarrassment. He asked if you wanted snacks and you nodded. There was a slight silence. You didn't notice the urgent look Luke gave Alex but the next moment the blond jumped up to accompany the bassist, leaving you alone in the garage with the lead singer.

 The silences were a little longer until Luke cautiously approached you. You could feel the awkwardness from miles away.

 “ Sooo, you made this.”

 “ yeah ...” you answered in a shy voice

 It was the moment you had to thank him but your words seemed frozen. You mustered all the courage to plant your gaze in Luke's eyes.

 “Thank you ... for helping me earlier.”

 “oh it was nothing”.

 “I ... yes, yes it was. You can't imagine how important seeing Reggie again is to me. Thanks for ... for helping me open his eyes.”

 A slight smile caught his lips and he reached for your cheek before stopping his gesture. Instead of stroking your skin, he simply put a section of your hair back behind your ear.

 “I would do anything for my best friends.”

 And Reggie was definitely one of Luke’s best friend. You hardly swallowed, your stomach contorting under the effect that the guitarist made you. Time had seemed to fly at an incredible speed as the moment was interrupted by Reggie and Alex coming back to you.

 “OMG LUKE DON’T FLIRT WITH MY SISTER, SHE’S 3!”

 You cleared your throat and stepped aside to pull yourself away from Luke as far as possible. Your gaze fell on your brother and you raised an eyebrow at the last remark. 3 years old, really? You were 3 years old twenty-five years ago ... now you were eternally a teenager

 “I’m seventeen.”

 “Listen, i'm your big brother, you’re three, end of discussion.”

 Your face wanted to laugh and you pursed your lips to keep from succumbing. But your eyes… Your eyes met Luke's in a complicity that slowly settled. Could you fall in love with your big brother's best friend? Definitely yes...

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

potent but not real, m | kth

pairing(s): taehyung x reader

summary: You kill people. Kim Taehyung doesn’t. He assisted you with one particular kill and then he kissed you. And, like a needle of methadone, the two of you chase the high again and again, knowing there is no hope for you. But there is for him. All Taehyung has to do is to walk away from your eyes.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of murder (non-graphic); sociopathic reader; unprotected sex (fem reader, sex in an office after hours, f-receiving oral, fucking against a desk, (symbolic) lipstick-covered motel sex, m-receiving oral, cowgirl); implied angst; non-idol!AU - office worker!Taehyung x assassin!reader (John Wick-esque)

Inspired by Methadone by Rise Against. The italicized bits are parts of the lyrics sprinkled throughout the story. If you like rock, check ‘em out!

--

The last time was a five-star hotel, but this time was a dingy motel, and you dressed appropriately. Thin-strapped flimsy black dress, kitschy animal print fur coat, strappy heels, and torn stockings, stumbling along the halls, ignored by others because you were mumbling under your breath, empty bottle in your hand, hair astray and makeup smeared.

No one wants a dirty-looking prostitute, and especially not a crazy one.

If anyone bothered to look at your face, they would have noticed how beautiful you were, caked under layers of makeup. They would have noticed that despite your erratic steps and nonsensical words, your eyes were shockingly clear, observing everything, hawk-like and hyper-focused. They would have seen that you took care not to move your left side too much, the thick fur hiding a barely-there lump.

You tipped into a door and tripped into the motel room.

The door instantly snapped closed behind your fallen body.

Locked.

love like a needle full of methadone

You rolled onto your back, looking up. Kim Taehyung stared down at you.

How did it come to this?

potent but not real, left you wanting more lipstick track-marks bleeding wet

It had only been a job, a woman this time. The higher-ups usually had you take the women. It was easy, but you needed an in, and Kim Taehyung had been that in. He was aware of what was happening and he was getting paid to keep his mouth shut. The first time you met him had been calm, neutral smiles as you greeted the tall, dark-haired man. You had worn appropriate office attire, slightly ill-fitted pants, starchy white dress shirt, big glasses, prim bun. Taehyung had greeted you at the door of the company he worked at. Your role was an outsourced advisor to help the company heads improve productivity and workflow. Taehyung led you around the floors, showing you various things, but none of it mattered. What mattered was the information Taehyung would provide you after hours. Names, schedules, addresses.

The woman had also worked at this company.

Had.

You did not ask for the reasoning. Embezzlement? Public shame? Had blackmail on someone? Had sex with the wrong rich man or woman? It didn’t matter. People die in senseless ways every day and one more meant nothing to you. That was your great skill, a skill unmatched by any other.

No remorse.

Perfect for the murder business.

And, like one truly born from the Eastern cultural mindset, instead of trying to get help or cure yourself of your apathy, you monetized your skill by becoming an assassin.

for us child, the stars refuse to shine why for us child, do the stars refuse to shine?

You followed the woman for weeks. The timing was important. Patience was key. Blending in, a different guise every week, a different method planned every day. The thing about killing for hire was that if you didn’t want to be caught, you couldn’t have a pattern. If you didn’t settle on a method, it couldn’t be connected back to you. That was the way you liked to do things.

The perfect weapon, a dangerous method.

The higher-ups were impatient, but you didn’t care. You knew what must be done and, when you’re the one doing the dirty work, you didn’t let them question you. If they wanted this to end a different way, they would have used a different assassin. But they chose you for a reason. You always had the cleanest kill, completely untraceable.

No one would ever know the Circle was involved.

It was a spotless erasure.

The reward was hefty, and, throughout the years, you earned far more than any human needed in their lifetime. Money was never your drive, but you took it all. You knew your own worth. Your work was too good to be underappreciated.

Taehyung was in on it. He knew it was going to happen. He gave you the name, the address, her usual timetable. He presented it all to you, without question, on a shadowy, starless night. You stared into his dark brown eyes, wondering why he could do such a thing. He held your gaze, dark hair pushed back, sculpted brows, serious expression. You wondered if he was broken like you, but that sort of thing was impossible.

There is no one as unhinged as you.

“Why are you this business?” he asked quietly in his deep, baritone voice.

It wasn’t accusing or beseeching. It was simply a question, no flaff attached to it.

“Because I’m well-suited for it.” You tapped the side of your head. Unsmiling. “Some screws fell loose when I was molded from the clay.”

Taehyung kept his gaze on you, blinking slowly. You expected him to recoil in disdain, be confused, or simply retreat from your unsmiling, vacant demeanor. Instead, he took a step closer.

“You shouldn’t need screws when molding from clay.”

One step closer, looking down, casting shadows all over his face.

“You only need screws when you’re making a machine.”

Taehyung leaned in and kissed you.

we wound up back here again

Fucking.

It was always a means to an end, something you did to fulfill that carnal need, a need that you did not understand very well, but it was there, and, like a starving beast, it demanded to be satisfied. Taehyung kissing you in a random office twelve stories up in a random skyscraper didn’t mean much.

But there was no consequence either.

You grabbed his head and crashed your lips to his again.

The risks were low. You knew everything about Kim Taehyung. The higher-ups of the Circle briefed you on him. You had his education history, knew every apartment he had lived in and every girlfriend he had ever dated. Had access to his credit card history, his medical records, everything.

He knew nothing about you.

Taehyung didn’t know you had no traceable past, didn’t know you had no home, didn’t know you belonged to the most powerful group of assassins the world has ever had the misfortune to create, didn’t know how many nights you spent in and out of consciousness, body traumatized and stitched back together, for you, a tool of the Circle, to be used once more.

This was your choice. Anyone could get out.

You just have to ask to die.

You sucked on his tongue and he groaned in your mouth, hands sliding between your arms to grasp your buttons and undo them one by one, thrusting his tongue in your mouth as he did so. Your breathing deepened, surrounding yourself with his warm herbal scent, fingers sinking into his cheeks, your shirt coming apart and his hands diving in, kneading your breasts with his strong hands.

Saying nothing.

There was nothing to say, because it was senseless, foolish, the worst idea imaginable. Yet, despite your demure and borderline unflattering appearance, Taehyung could see your hawk-like and hyper-focused gaze. You caught him watching you, not just your body, but your eyes, taking every opportunity to observe them. You could see his mind memorizing the shape, the iris color, the position of every lash.

Against your lips, he whispered, locking you with his stare.

“Your eyes are art to me.”

Taehyung knew. He must know that you were a highly trained assassin, which was only a pretty word for paid serial killer. It made you the lowest of the low, the worst kind of human being, the kind that does not deserve compliments or sweet nothings.

He pushed your head back and licked your neck, up your trachea, collarbone to chin, leaving a long, wet stripe of saliva.

The unnatural action made your shiver in his hands.

He kissed down, scooping your breasts out, nicking your skin with his teeth, not asking, but aware that you could break his neck at any second. The Circle could call you right now and tell you Kim Taehyung needed to die and you would kill him without hesitation or remorse.

His lips closed around your nipple and his dark eyes were on yours once more.

There were no stars tonight.

The world that you and Taehyung had created in this spare office was only lit from below by the unsuspecting city through the window.

He sucked hard. He used teeth. He licked and pulled and streams of saliva dripped down your chest, your body shuddering in his hands, hands falling back onto the desk and leaning back, Taehyung over you, your shirt falling down your upper arms, the euphoric rush almost unbearable, too much feeling for your empty heart.

No talking, no words, nothing but sound. Gasps, slurping, kissing down your stomach, skin being scraped with teeth and hands, Taehyung’s dark eyes on your face, always on your face, and you looked down at him, watching him undo your slacks, never losing control, not even as he pushed your panties down and snaked his tongue in between your folds. Your jaw clenched as his warmth invaded yours, your hand fitting on the back of his head, curling your fingers in his hair, a solid grip that could not be broken unless he finished his job. His tongue slid in and flicked your clit, stroking its ego, your hips grinding into his face, nearly suffocating him, but Taehyung said nothing, his stare never leaving, almost unnerving, but you didn’t care.

Slicker, stronger, rougher, his lips closing in, sucking and licking, teeth nicking your clit, his hands on your ass and nails digging in, pushing you to him and lengthening the stroke of your hips to his face, flooding his mouth with sweet honey and his ears with savage snarls, his eyebrow cocking, the only indication that he was asking for you to cum, fingers splayed over your ass cheeks.

You sucked in a breath and bucked into his face, hissing, clit almost painfully throbbing, and Taehyung finally shut his eyes, groaning as he drank it all like he was trapped in the desert and your leaking core was his oasis.

He didn’t bother murmuring your name.

It wasn’t your real name anyway.

like unstable chemicals combining only to explode

Assassins don’t need to procreate.

You were given options.

You chose complete removal.

Your uterus was probably in some biohazardous landfill, rotting away.

The only visible scar was mixed with the thousands all over your skin. It didn’t mean much to you.

Taehyung removed his face from between your legs, strings of your cum all over his chin. They snapped and hung downwards, so viscous that they just suspended there. He wiped it up his skin and licked it off, breathing hard.

Maybe that was all he wanted, but that was not all you wanted.

You yanked him up by his tie, nearly making him choke, and then his orgasm-stained breath was in your face. You pushed his face to the side, fitting your chin to his broad shoulder and inhaled that comforting herbal scent, the scent of Taehyung, and you unbuckled his pants, pushing them down, sliding your hand under the waistband of his underwear and pulling his already hard cock out. He gasped into your neck, grabbing your arm, but you growled, pumping his length roughly, making it swell to its full girth in your hand.

You knew how big he was. It was recorded in his medical record.

what would it take for you to notice

You pulled one of your legs out of your pants, fitted it around his waist, and shoved him inside you, grimacing, your ass against the desk. Taehyung pulled his head back, dark brown eyes wide, shocked that you took him so fast but, to you, pain was life, and this was nothing. In fact, it was welcome pain, being stretched out, sinking down on him, maintaining eye contact.

“What if–”

“It’s not possible for me to get pregnant anymore.”

He searched your eyes, looking for the lie. He mouthed the word, anymore, and there were questions, but you cared not for them, slapping your hips to his and he gasped, grabbing your leg and fucking you hard, right into the desk, sloppy, wet, but so much force, lifting you a little to sit you partially on the wood and then pound you harder, practically impaling you with his large cock. Even then, your back didn’t arch. Even then, your head didn’t tilt back. You were panting, primal noises at your throat, and his eyes were on yours, and then your moans and his moans matched, both of you committing arson, setting your worlds ablaze with lust, your nails scraping against the desk and his nails piercing your thigh, leaving bruises and marks.

Taehyung leaned in, a heavy sigh and wanton hiss, your hot breath mixing with his, loud slaps of skin on skin, his cock brutally slamming into you, your pussy tightening all around him. In an instant, one particularly jarring thrust and you felt the rush igniting all your nerves at once, a wordless gasp between your bodies as it all crashed down on him. He grunted, jaw set, closing one eye at the force of your orgasm milking his out, cramming your tightness full of his release, hot strings painting your insides, wasted in the name of senseless desire.

i am a heart on fire and all the world's a fuse so don't get close

And now, in this dingy motel, dressed like a cheap whore, you looked up at Kim Taehyung, clad in a plain green sweater vest and t-shirt, light wash jeans ripped up and showing off his muscular legs. He stood out more than you, his strong and handsome features far too difficult to disguise, but he was no one of note, a simple company man who would never be investigated for anything because he was insignificant on paper. There was nothing for Kim Taehyung to hide.

Nothing except his nights with you.

the trouble and the worth am i better off on my own?

You got off the floor and went to the bathroom to wipe off your face, frowning at the amount you had piled on to mask most of your features. Taehyung waited patiently, as he had all this time. He didn’t want to see you with all that on either. You washed your face and came out of the bathroom, shouldering out of your fur coat and draping it on a rickety chair, nearly collapsing it with the weight.

Revealing your gun holster.

It sat on your left side, within easy reach of your right hand. You had a limited number of bullets. You never wasted your shot. This wasn’t an action movie. You unclicked the buckle holding it against your body and set it on the table, the modern tool of murder looking ominously black against the cheap wood, machine-carved patterns trying to make it look fancy, but the poor staining gave away all the mechanical mistakes.

“Is that for me?”

You looked up to the deep voice.

Taehyung gazed back at you, expression unreadable, but clearly referring to the gun. His hair wasn’t styled, black-brown curls shading his forehead, parted in the middle. Hands in his pockets, ass against the end of the bed.

“No.”

A simple answer with no further explanation.

The Circle did not instruct you to kill Taehyung, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t at some point.

They were ruthless.

Taehyung was not looking at your skimpy clothes or your bare arms and legs. His eyes were on yours, as they always were, revealing his intent, hiding nothing. He had an intimidating stare and you had a pointed one, sharpened to drink in every observation until it was a part of your memory.

There was a bottle of red wine open on one of the nightstands, with one used wine glass.

Taehyung spread legs for you, as he did many times before.

You sometimes wondered why he continued with this. There was nothing he gained from it other than the actual sex itself. Did he feel sorry for you? Did he do it because fucking a murderer was an unattainable high in itself? Did he like you? Was he just killing time like how you killed other human beings? In some way you had contaminated him, and now Taehyung could not go back to his vaguely innocent life.

It didn’t matter what the reason was.

Better you not know.

He pulled one of his hands out of his pocket, opening an object with one hand. It was a black and gold tube of red lipstick. Shockingly red, far too expensive for someone like you, with those iconic overlapping C’s. He twisted it up. His other hand appeared and beckoned you to him.

You stepped up. Taehyung handed you the tube of lipstick, looking up at you, unsmiling but strangely satisfied. He produced a cheap pocket mirror from his other pocket. Held it in front of you.

You applied the red lipstick from the bullet, right onto your full lips.

Smooth, swift strokes.

Recapped the tube and handed it back to him.

Taehyung tossed it and the mirror onto the bed behind him and cupped your cheeks, kissing you right away.

damaged goods they soon forget in choking dust where we got left

Smearing the lipstick everywhere, red track-marks all over your neck and cheeks, lips and teeth working you. The satin finish was slippery, leaving streaks on his chin as well, heavy gasps of breath mixing between your bodies as you took his face in your hands, kissing him all over too, tangling your fingers in his hair and pulling it back, painting smears like bloodstains all over his golden tan skin, Taehyung moaning depravedly under you.

Your teeth scraped right against his Adam’s apple and his eyelids fluttered, quickly righting themselves to look at you through his long, dark lashes.

He reached back and felt around for the tube of lipstick, holding it out to you once more.

The mirror was face up on the bed, reflecting a small slice of this particular circle of hell you and Taehyung had created in this motel room.

You took the red lipstick.

for us all the stars refuse to shine

His vest and t-shirt disappeared, suddenly fading into the background, body pushed back onto the bed by your strong hands, toned chest exposed and you climbing over him, lips painted already, quite accurately despite the mess on your face already. The tube was once again recapped, rolling across the cheap duvet. The bedsprings shrieked, metal grating against metal, but that was a common sound in this sinful place, a place where all bad deeds come to be executed.

Adultery.

Drug use.

Death.

All of the above, sometimes.

You stared into those dark brown eyes and sculpted brows, beautiful lips parted and smeared with scarlet, all the way down to his collarbones and you leaned forward, kiss prints all over his pecs, Taehyung’s rumbling deep baritone above you, noises of pleasure and praise, nonverbal but just as communicative, breath hitching as you sucked on his skin, adding purple to the red. Your tongue flicked against his dark nipple, staining it with red lipstick, the floral taste in your mouth now, but it didn’t matter. The pleasure more important, lips closing around the hardened nub, flicking it with your tongue, your hand trailing down his chest.

Taehyung touched your hand and turned one of your nails inward.

Your fingers curled and you raked your nails down his torso.

He moaned above you, arching his back to receive more pain.

so tap the vein and light the match we burn like stars before the crash

Every time, it felt better, more intense, your nails and your lips on his hot skin, his sound above your head, the depth of his voice vibrating his chest cavity. Down, down, undoing his pants, yanking down his underwear, and soon they faded into the background too, his naked body before you, covered in slashes of red lipstick, gasping for breath, dark brown eyes on yours.

He didn’t say your name, because he still didn’t know it.

There was nothing to know.

You didn’t have a name.

The orphanage picked one for you all those years ago, but it was no longer a part of you, lost in a fire that tragically killed your paper trail, turning you into a meaningless existence, merely a cog in the Circle’s machine. Cared for and shrouded by the shadows, adding you to a part of their watch.

You were a very important cog, but a cog nonetheless.

“Taehyung.”

Those brown orbs widened, stained lips parting.

“Yeah?”

There was too much fondness in that low tone.

but for you there's still a chance, just let go

You just stared at him.

His breathing deepened, swallowing hard. His long fingers buried into the cheap bedding, his eyes darkening as his chin lowered, licking his lips slowly. He watched you from underneath his lashes, cocking an eyebrow.

“Do whatever,” he finally breathed. “I’ll take anything.”

Your gaze flickered down and he was already hard. Something about your eyes. You dropped down, tongue sliding out, wetly running over the thick length. Taehyung sucked a breath through his teeth, hand coming up to wipe his mouth and plant back down on the bed, staining the sheets with marks of your meeting.

You wrapped your lips around it and it pulsed in your mouth, getting bigger as you lowered your head, still looking at his face, watching him shiver and groan at your lipstick-covered lips enveloping his throbbing cock. You took it all, hitting the back of your throat, so fucking much that you could barely breathe, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was the sheer ecstasy painted over Taehyung’s handsome features, turning into drawn-out gasps as you began to move, bobbing up and down, your hands on the bed, neck straining from being stuffed full of cock. You could smell him every time you reached the base, that warm herbal scent flooding your nose, his thick length twitching in your mouth, fighting the tightness of your throat. You hollowed out your cheeks, tongue rubbing against the bottom, and Taehyung’s pitch hiked, biting his lip, lashes fluttering, pants shallowing.

“Fuck, oh, fuck…”

He was already filling your mouth to the brim, swollen head punching the back of your throat, bruising it in all the right ways, your moans trapped in your chest as you sped up, sucking harder, your fingertips brushing against his skin and spreading the lipstick-laced saliva all over his balls, adding to the sensation, Taehyung crying out as he looked into your hyper-focused eyes, his own pupils blown so wide they seemed to overtake the iris, starless and consuming all the pleasure you gave him.

He clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, suddenly gasping as he came, shooting into the roof of your mouth, the scorching heat splattering against your throat and pooling there, so much and so thick that for a second you stopped to roll your eyes back, drinking his strong taste, before shoving his cock into your mouth again, fucking his cum down your throat so your were forced to gulp it down, barely breathing, enjoying your self-produced lightheadedness and Taehyung’s wail of protest, too sensitive to take your sudden rough pace, hand clawing at the air.

You slowed, licking him all over, soft, so soft, so much saliva, his stiff cock still dribbling out his orgasm for you to lap up.

His eyes on you again.

but now there's nowhere to run and yeah, there's nowhere to hide

And now you were naked, covered in red lipstick and his bites, straddling his lower torso, Taehyung licking between your breasts as you slid your ass down onto his still wet length, painted in Chanel, saliva, and cum, reaching down to reposition him at your entrance, his eyes shimmering, hazing out, high on you. Reflecting your form poised over him, a shadow with no morality.

You sank down and he moaned, low and deep, large hands on your waist and thigh, leading you. The thin walls of the motel did nothing to hide the screaming, the crying, the bed squeaks all around you two, above and below, whispers of devious deeds being performed meters away, but none of these things mattered. Your arms circled his broad shoulders and, as always, you were face to face, hawk-like, hyper-focused, and he was in front of you, fucked-out as your ass smacked into his balls, taking all of him, stretched out to an almost painful point.

He still didn’t know your name, so instead of saying it, his hand lifted and touched your chin, bringing your face to him, a slow, messy, pining kiss, your hips rolling into his, his moans wandering into your lips, eyes half-open to watch yours, your body shuddering with need, imploring you to fuck harder, rougher, to chase your pleasure, to chase it without abandon. You shoved Taehyung down onto the bed and smacked your hips into his, hissing at the jarring sensation of your tight hole being violently expanded by his long, thick length, nails digging into his tan skin. Taehyung harmonized with your lewd moans, husky depth adding to your heavy pants, following your rhythm and bouncing his ass on the hard mattress, hitting your deeper and more forcefully.

His hand fitted over yours, locking his fingers in between your spread ones, clutching tight, louder, louder, metal bedsprings screaming, your pants shallowing, staring down at Taehyung’s face covered with scarlet lipstick smears and dark brown curls sticking to his forehead.

what would it take for you to notice that i am a hand grenade pin already pulled so don't let go 

You wiggled your hips, smacking his hardness against your walls and clenching down, ruining yourself, ruining him, feral cries and satisfied hisses mixing with Taehyung’s deep baritone, one of his hands interlocked around yours, time ticking down and ready to detonate, trapped in the murky expanse of Taehyung’s brown orbs, heartbeat roaring in your ears, so loud it felt like it was the only sound you could hear, everything fading out except Taehyung’s face and you bouncing onto his cock, nails digging into his pecs.

“Taehyung…”

Your voice, wretched.

Like a guitar string snapping suddenly while being played.

You threw your head back, overtaken by the explosive fire racing through your gasoline veins, ignited by your orgasm shattering through your core and firing upwards, pussy convulsing and clutching Taehyung’s cock mercilessly, making his eyes roll back and his head slam into the pillows, knuckles white as he gripped your hand tight, whining on the top of his lungs, the high shooting from you to him, cock jolting and spurting thick gushes of cum upwards, right into you.

A violent crescendo of illicit ecstasy.

Someone smashed something against the wall next door, most likely a lamp.

You slumped onto Taehyung’s chest, body trembling with shivers of pleasure. His torso rumbled, struggling for breath, releasing your hand and wrapping his arms around you. Nothing romantic about being covered in red lipstick, saliva, and cum dribbling out of your hole.

Taehyung shoved his chin into your hair and trapped you there for a long while.

as we chase the sun my shadow slows us down

You didn’t say anything as he cleaned you up and you cleaned him up, both sitting in the narrow, half-full, yellowed tub, far too close together, practically in each other’s lap, using bleached hotel towels to wipe off the lipstick and cum with lukewarm water.

You raised your head, hair stringy and clinging to your skin.

His dark hair was plastered to his natural glowing tan.

You leaned forward.

Taehyung waited.

You pressed your lips to his.

A touch.

you're better off and i know

You drew back.

Remembering your gun sitting on the table outside the bathroom.

Remembering the man that you had shot hours before, staging it like a suicide.

What did that man do? You didn’t ask, didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. An old man who maybe had grandkids, great-grandkids. Maybe he ruined the lives of his hired labor, staining them with sin. Maybe he was at the wrong time and wrong place. Maybe he was guiltier than you, taking victims and leaving them to suffer with traumatic memories that could ever be erased.

You stared into Taehyung’s eyes, feeling no remorse.

Taehyung took your hand.

Squeezed it tight, so tight his knuckles were white and it felt like your fingers were being crushed.

You let him hold it for ten seconds.

Then you reached over and peeled his fingers off, one by one.

Got out of the tub, picking up the towel from the ground. Drying off your body, not looking at him. Put your clothes back on, hair still wet and cold. Holster on, jacket over it. The second you opened the motel door, you were the drunken, unstable prostitute once again, mumbling under your breath, speaking to voices unknown, pointedly ignored and avoided by everyone around you, even as you stumbled through the city, wet hair swinging, the only reminder that Taehyung had been with you, dripping water onto the sidewalk.

You looked down at your hand.

The hand that could kill.

The hand Kim Taehyung squeezed and would squeeze again, barring you didn’t kill yourself by being in the murder business. When Taehyung finally got out of the bath, he would once again find the large wad of cash you had left.

Money was never the drive.

Kim Taehyung made anonymous donations to various charities in your stead, his accounting background knowing exactly how to fumble the numbers and names. He and you would never be suspected. He was a real human being, one who cared about those around him. He would know where to put the money, know how needed it most. You wouldn’t.

You didn’t know anything about compassion.

You didn’t know anything about kindness.

You didn’t know anything about love.

you're better off and i know and i know

--

masterpost

[pit-and-the-pen]

Kissing In Cars

hi it’s 1:30am. I was listening to a song that inspired a sappy, painfully cute fic.

No one asked for this but I felt the need to create this after hearing a specific song.

George Weasley x Female Reader. 

Warnings: A shit ton of fluff, angst if you squint super hard at one point Fred gets his shit wrecked by a bookshelf, 

flashbacks are in italics 

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George couldn’t believe his eyes. If someone had told him he was dead and in heaven, he would have gladly excepted that idea. Because it was easier that the person in white walking towards him was anything less than an angel. 

The only thing that was grounding him in that moment was his twins hand clapping down on his shoulder. “Pinch me” George threw over his shoulder in a whisper. 

“Why?”

“I have to make sure this is real.” George chuckled out. 

“Trust me mate. It’s real.” Fred elbowed him in the ribs lightly. 

If someone had told him how beautiful you would look coming down an aisle he would have married you the first time he saw you. 

-Year 4- 

He had bursted into charms five minutes late. Flickwit only glancing up slightly before giving the red head a quick glance telling him to hurry up and join the class. His normal seat next to his twin was taken. The only one available next to the timid girl in his year that no one really ever heard speak. As he sat down as quickly as he could, he noticed she spelt mildly of strawberries. George shrugged it off and took out a notebook and franticly tried to catch up with what was on the board. 

A heavy sigh came from besides him and suddenly two pages were shoved under his arms. In small tight cursive was what George guessed as the earlier notes. He flicked his eyes over to the girl next to him who gave him a small eyeroll before looking down at her papers with a small smile. That smile made him stop in his tracks. How had he never noticed how warm it was after four years in classes with her. 

The aisle was impossibly long. His muscles tensed, trying to stop himself from running up just to grab your hand. Just to feel how soft the lace would be against your skin. To make sure this was in fact real. 

His eyes locked on yours for the first time since you stepped into the room and the smile that crossed your face nearly swept him off of his feet. 

-Year 5-

“Stop it you prat, we really need to study.” You said through giggles as you balled up a piece of scrap paper to throw at the older twins head. 

“No but seriously. We could do it. We’d make a killing if we made them available for all students.” Fred piqued up from the corner, shoving down his own laughter. 

“And where would I fit into this?” You said, going along with it for a second. 

“Why you’d be our second in command.” 

“Technically third since there are two of us.” George added with a wink towards you “No hard feelings I hope.”

“Oh no.” You said throwing your arms up. “Just choose your brother over me I see.” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave a small fake pout. 

“See that’s a hard spot to be in. My best mate and brother, or my best girl?” He taps his chin for a second before giving you a full on smile. “Sorry Fred. Gotta make her happy.” He says grabbing both sides of the top of your head and giving you a small kiss on the crown of your head. 

“Ass.” You said smacking him lightly at the sarcasm dripping from his voice. George was your best friend. Regardless of how fast your heart was beating at the small act of affection, joking or not.

You lock eyes with Fred and he gives you a knowing look before you give a very rude hand gesture and he just laughs. Shaking his head. 

Finally, you reach him. He vaguely processes the person next to you placing your hand in his. This felt right. Like his hand was always meant to be in yours. Like it was a missing puzzle piece that finally had been found under the couch. 

-Year 6-

“If you pull at your dress one more time. Love, you look amazing.” George Said, pressing a small kiss to your temple. 

“What if she doesn’t like me. What if she doesn’t like the color of my dress. Merlin, I knew I should have gone wit the blue one.” You voice breaking into a full panic. George grabs the sides of your face lightly. 

“Hey, hey.” He looks into your eyes and makes you take a deep breath with him. “She’s gonna love you, you know why?” You shake your head. “Because I love you.” He bends down and gives you a soft peck on the lips. Quieting any protest that was about to come out of your mouth. 

The words being spoken in front of him didn’t seem to matter. They floated in one ear and out the other like an unknown melody. The only thing he could focus on was the person in front of him. Her voice, the way the dress clung to her in all the right way making her look impossibly more beautiful. All that mattered right now was how much longer until he got to officially say he was your and you were his. Every word just brought him closer to the thing he wants more than anything in the world. You. 

-Battle of Hogwarts-

How did you manage to lose him. That was the first thing you promised him. Pinkies wrapped against each others. Foreheads pressed together. 

“Promise me you won’t leave.” You whispered as the battle started around you. 

“If you promise to marry me once we get out of this” He vowed, giving his fist a small kiss as you did the same to yours. 

You tried to stop the tear from rolling down your face as your mind raced at what was happening all around you. The sound of the battle only seeming to get louder as the castle was breached. 

A second later, before you could answer, a familiar voice screamed his name and before you knew he was bolting in the other direction. You called after him as his red hair got lost in the hoard of people. He didn’t mean to break the promise. It had been a silly request anyways. A selfish way to make sure you didn’t lose him. But George can handle himself. Still you found yourself running down after him. 

You saw it as it happened. The flash of green light hit so close to Freds face that when you saw him get blasted to the ground you were instantly paralyzed with fear. Percy and George instantly ducking down to check on their brother as you aimed a curse right at the person that had done it. A cry coming out of your throat as you tried to tell yourself it didn’t hit. As you rushed over to help them clear the rubble currently covering Fred, you let out a sigh of relief as you see him wince. 

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” He groans as the two boys get him onto his feet. 

Once Fred is into safety in the great hall, you snatch up George’s arm and throw your arms around his shoulders. 

“I love you. When we get out of this, I’m marrying you Weasley.” You said into his chest. Answering the question George had blurted out earlier. He smiled as he gave you a long kiss. 

“I do.” He heard your voice ring out loud and clear, the weight of the wedding band slipping onto his finger. He smiled so wide he could feel how much his checks hurt. He processed the happy tears slipping out of his eyes. Matching your tear streaked face now. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The voice called from behind him. This was it. This is what everyday since that day in Charms class had been leading up to. As he leaned in to press his lips against yours, he murmurs “Finally” before wrapping his arms around your waist and putting every ounce of love he ever felt for you into that first kiss. 

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[milliedazzledust]

Turning Pages (Kol Mikaelson imagine)

Request by @scallisonbaby : Could you write an imagine for Kol, she’s the daughter of one of his main enemies, she tried to keep it a secret but he finds out and klaus tries to kill her saying she’s probably spying on us but Kol proctects the reader.

Words: 2858 words

A/N: this doesn’t follow the chronology or history of the show. Kinda felt inspired, this is long

Y/N knew she was screwed the moment she saw him. The brown eyes, disheveled hair, handsome smile and smartass attitude, not to mention this british accent that could make her swoon. Yes, Kol Mikaleson really was her weakness.  She suspected he knew it and played with it anytime he could. She hadn’t known the Mikaelsons for long but had helped them countless times.

Several years ago, before the family came back to New Orleans, she had come to seek shelter. Her path had crossed Marcel’s. He had come to her rescue before some vampire could kill her one night and she confided a whole part of her story she wished she could forget to him. She had expected him to ask her to leave and never come back to his city, but instead, he had agreed to help and hide her.

Ever since, she had kept that secret and had sworn no one would ever find out. Before New Orleans, she had another life, another name. A one she despised more than anything with a man she no longer considered family. She’d learn of his implication with Klaus himself later on when the man she had succeeded to avoid for years came back, hellbent on revenge against the Mikaelsons.

« How exactly do you think this is gonna go when they’ll find out ? » Marcel asked her, handing her a bottle of beer.

She sighed. Sitting on the couch in his living room, her feet crossed on the table, she took the beverage and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

« I think Kol is gonna kill me » She answered.

« Kol isn’t the brother you should be worried about »

She gave him a side look and pursed her lips before taking a sip from her bottle.

« Family’s a real bitch sometimes, huh ? » She half heartedly joked.

« He’s not your family, not anymore. Not since you came to New Orleans »

She smiled at her friend.

« But your father has become powerful enough to kill an original over the past couple of weeks and you know he’s gonna try to destroy them »

Again, she sighed.

« What am I suppose to do ? »

« I know you don’t want to see him, but you might just be the only one who can stop him »

« Do you really think he’ll listen to me ? After all I’ve told you ? »

« Lucien is … well … complicated, but not beyond reason »

She chuckled.

« Complicated ? Is that your definition of psychotic maniac killer ? »

Marcel stood up then turned to the girl, offering her his hand.

« You owe it to yourself to at least try »

She rolled her eyes.

« Damn you and your moral Marcel » She muttered, taking his hand and getting up.

With a heavy heart, she let him take her to the compound. So far as she could remember, she always had felt scared of her father. When she was a child, often she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her heart would race at the simplest sound of his feet approaching. Countless times she cried herself to sleep, hoping he wouldn’t hear, otherwise he’d come to show her what it was to be strong and not weak, as he would put it.

Marcel took her to the French Quarter, knowing whatever Klaus was planning, it was certainly to lure Lucien into the compound. He wasn’t wrong. The moment they step foot inside the Mikaelson’s mansion, one of them was already flying across the room, landing with a loud noise on the staircase. The vampire she had once known as her father was standing in front of Niklaus as his brother got back on his feet.

« You should’ve ran while you still could » Klaus threatened him.

« And miss an opportunity to kill you ? » Lucien laughed.

Klaus grinned, taking a step back. He silently nodded at his sister Freya. She instantly started chanting ancient words, a grimoire in one hand, the other raised in defense against him. In a matter of seconds, Lucien was on the ground, screaming in pain.

All this time, Y/N stayed behind Marcel. It was her way to shield herself from him. No one except Kol acknowledged their presence. Instinctively, after a quick look at her, he put himself in front of her. For a moment she thought it was to allow his brothers to attack, but when she felt his hand clasped around hers, she knew he was trying to protect her from the fight to come.

Suddenly, almost as quick as it started, her father stopped screaming and laughed. She’d recognize that evil, wicked sound anywhere.

« Did you really think this would work ? » Lucien proudly stated, standing up.

Freya took a step back, glancing at Klaus. Whatever spell they had planned, it wasn’t working on him. They all looked tense when he casually crossed the magic border around him with ease.

« Let’s get this show on the road, shall we? » He grinned.

The Mikaelsons spun in a defensive stance. Elijah launched himself first and made Lucien fall, but the vampire was quick to get back on his feet. Klaus used his speed to attack but the other creature anticipated his move and threw him against a wall. Angry, he got back up, breaking a chair and stabbed him with it. Lucien took the weapon out of his chest and Elijah used this distraction to get behind him and try to strike. It was no use. The other vampire turned before he could do anything and grabbed his arm, breaking it in the process. Seeing his brother struggling, Kol glanced behind him at Y/N before rushing to help him.

« Don’t move » He warned her.

He squeezed her hand one last time and ran to Lucien, punching him and making him lose his grip on his brother. Y/N watched in horror her worst nightmare happening. Soon, Marcel joined the fight and the violent dance started against the vampires. Her breath suddenly got caught in her lungs when she saw her father twist Kol’s arm, making his knees hit the floor. When Elijah and Klaus tried to get closer, he pulled harder on his shoulder. Kol winced in pain and his brothers stopped dead in their tracks.

When Y/N saw her father’s fangs retracting and the black veins running on his face, she swore her heart stopped beating. Right then, out of pure fear for the man she loved, she deciding she could no longer stay back.

« Enough! » She yelled.

His mouth wide opened, close to Kol’s arm, he looked up at her and smirked. For a moment it all sounded quiet. Everyone was completely still and no one moved over the silence of the room. The invisible tension was almost palpable as she took a tentative step toward him.

« Let him go » She told him, her voice quivering.

Still wearing that god awful smile, he looked back at her, pleased by her intervention.

« Stay back, Y/N » Kol warned her before, worried she would try to come closer.

She stopped in her track. As she looked around the room, she could see the questioning stares around her and she knew this moment would change everything, but she couldn’t let him hurt this family.

« Please … stop » She whispered, her eyes watery.

« Why would I ? » He darkly chuckled.

« Because I’m asking you »

Her lips quivered as she forced herself to take a breath.

« Y/N, step back. He is dangerous » Elijah advised her.

Lucien let out a sinister chuckle, raising an eyebrow.

« They don’t know, do they ? »

She pursed her lips, silently answering his question. Once again he loudly laughed, finding the situation amusing.

« Marvelous ! »

From the corner of her eyes, she could see Klaus started to put the puzzle into pieces. She was screwed and she knew it.

« I’ll come back if you let them go » She offered, ignoring Kol gaze on her.

He bitterly smirked.

« You chose your side when you fled my home, Y/N. And for that you will die too »

He tightened his hold on the vampire beneath him when he started to fight back at his words.

« And your pathetic lover with it » He spitted.

« You left me no other choices ! »

« You were supposed to rule by my side! » He screamed. « You were suppose to defeat the Mikaelsons with me ! »

« Those were your plans, not mine » She cried.

Again, she saw his fangs retracting and she felt the fear growing in the pit of her stomach.

« I’ll teach you what happens when you betray your own father, Y/N ! »

This was it. They finally knew. She saw each Mikaelsons widened their eyes in surprise. Marcel took a defensive step toward her when she noticed Klaus starting to shift, angry. What hurt her the most was the way Kol stared back at her. His jaw tightened, his fist clenched, he looked betrayed and it broke her heart. Before any of them could process the news or react, she watched her father plugged his fangs into the arm of the man she loved, making him scream in agony.

« No! » She shouted, running to them in a vain effort to save him.

Before she could even reach Kol, she felt her body being pushed and her back violently smacking a wall. The force of the impact made her close her eyes just for a second but when she opened them back, she noticed her father had fled. Ignoring the physical pain she felt, she tried to stand up.

« I’ll kill you! » She heard Klaus yelled at her.

He reached her at an impressive speed, clasping his hands around her neck. With all the power he could, he strangled her, and the girl was no match against Klaus Mikaelson. Marcel was quick to come to her rescue and threw the vampire attacking her across the room.

All Y/N could focus on was Kol cries. The man was on the ground, Freya and Elijah by his side, fighting an invisible force trying to kill him, fighting a fate brought by her father. He screamed in agony as his brother tried to hold him still while their witch sister had already started to gather ingredients for a spell.

« We don’t have long » She told them.

« Why are you protecting her ?! » Klaus shouted to Marcel. « That wicked woman lied to us! »

« She had no choice, Klaus! »

« So you knew ! You knew she was a spy send to destroy my family and you said nothing! »

« She’s not with him ! »

« Do I care about terminology ?! He is her father ! »

Elijah watched Y/N as she tightly shut her eyes at his brother’s words.

« Enough, Niklaus! » He shouted at his brother. « This is not the place, nor the time »

Kol was still restless on the ground, the spasms making it harder for Elijah to hold him still. His skin had started to become sickly pale. Y/N stared at him, a few feet away. Never had she felt so guilty and ashamed. She could see his misery and knew the mere sight of it would haunt her for the rest of her life.

« Freya, do something ! » Klaus urged her when his brother stared to violently shake.

« I’m trying ! » She responded.

She quickly gathered everything she needed around her, working as fast as she could.

« I’m gonna need Lucien’s blood » She informed them.

The brothers shared a look. They knew wherever the man was, they wouldn’t reach him in time.

«  Would … would mine work ? » Y/N softly suggested.

« Yes »

« You’re not coming anywhere near him! » The hybrid shouted back.

« Niklaus, let the woman help! » Elijah answered him.

He nodded at her and she almost ran to Freya, offering her arm to her. She winced when the witch cut her skin but her eyes never left Kol. Freya finished her spell and mixed all her ingredients, adding Y/N’s blood then handed a cup to Elijah. He brought it to his brother’s mouth, forcing him to drink. The girl waited by his side, anxious. She hadn’t noticed the tears on her face, nor her hands trembling. She let out a breath of relief when she saw the man stopped shivering.

« Leave, now » Klaus firmly ordered.

« Are you serious ? She just saved your brother! » Marcel warned him.

« It’s … it’s alright, I’ll go »

She stood up, shaking with emotions, ready to collapse in tears, and walked to the door. She took a look back, needing to make sure he was alive.

« He’s gonna be alright » Elijah reassured her.

She nodded, glad he at least wasn’t showing any sign of anger toward her then glanced one last time at Niklaus.

« You and I share one thing in commun, we didn’t choose to have a crappy father. I thought you of all people would’ve understood that »

He pursed his lips, holding himself back from answering.

« I’ll leave New Orleans tomorrow » She told them. « I’ll try to draw him out of the city »

« You don’t need to go » Marcel told her.

« Just … tell him I’m sorry, okay ? » She asked, looking one last time at Kol.

Marcel sadly nodded at the girl before she disappeared. For a while, she just wandered around the streets, enjoying the eery atmosphere of New Orleans one last time before going home and packing.

Leaning over the balcony of her home later that night, she stared at the life still roaring so late in the city. A man on the street was playing the sax while some people danced to it. She could hear the noise from Rousseau’s, the laugh, the music, the chatter. Bourbon street and its live music and vibrant people felt so alive and inviting, a chaotic contrast to what she was feeling. Time seemed to slow as she tried to photograph this memory, a keepsake to give her strength in the rough times she knew would come against her father. She felt a sudden gush of air behind her and shivered, knowing what it was before he even spoke.

« Were you really expecting me to let you go that easily, love ? »

She closed her eyes, a tear rolling down her cheek. All the noises around her disappeared. All she could hear was the loud silence and his heavy presence. She tensed when she felt him take a step closer, scared he might say something that would definitely hurt her.

« Kol… » She whispered.

« Why ? » He simply asked.

She pursed her lips, trying to come up with an answer that would be enough to make him understand.

« I was scared »

« Of what ?! »

« My father has done terrible things »

He grabbed her wrist, making her sharply turned to face him.

« Y/N, have you seen my family ? » He argued. « Did you think I would judge you ? Do you think so low of me ? »

« Are you alright ? » She suddenly asked, not acknowledging any of his questions, her eyes scanning his body for any sign of injury.

« What ? »

He seemed lost for a moment.

« Your wound » She explained. « Has it healed ? »

« That’s beside the point, Y/N »

« You almost died because of me »

« Because of him » He corrected her.

In a second he was in front of her and entangled his hand in her hair, his thumb softly stroking her cheek.

« Why, Y/N ? » He asked in a whisper, his eyes pouring into hers.

She felt small under his gaze, unarmed and vulnerable.

« I didn’t want to remember » She admitted. « I just wanted to forget him, forget he existed, forget the years of … »

She stopped herself and he knew why. He didn’t need her to say it to know Lucien had hurt her, badly.

« I didn’t think I’d see him again » She kept going, a lump forming in her throat. « I thought I was free, Kol »

She starred right back at him, a sob escaping her throat.

« I thought I was finally free » She told him, her shoulders shaking with every word.

He dragged her to him, squeezing her as she melt down in his arms. It was more than crying, it was the kind of desolate sobbing that comes from a person drained of all hope. He felt her sank to her knees before she could touch the ground and tightened his hold of her. He waited patiently until she was calm enough to take a step back.

« There’s no way I’m letting you leave the city, Y/N »

« I have to make him go. Besides, your brother will have be beheaded if I don’t disappear »

« The hell with Niklaus, he can go fuck himself for all I care »

She rolled her eyes at him.

« I’m not letting you go » He vehemently stated, cupping her cheeks.

« He’ll come back for you. All of you » She muttered.

« Well good. We’ll be waiting for him »

« Kol … »

« Mark my words, Y/N ; I am NOT letting you go » He repeated.

He leaned into her and kissed her forehead, then her nose, then softly, her lips.

« I can’t let him get to you » She confessed.

« And I can’t let you go near him. This is a dead end, love, and you’re not winning this argument »

She chuckled.

« I really thought I’d lost you for a moment »

He smirked.

« Never. You’re stuck with me for an eternity »

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 7)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 7: rabbit hole

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. omg THE LAST CHAPTER!!!! i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading <3

warnings: drinking, cursing, hate comments

word count: 1.6k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

series masterlist   main masterlist   chapter 6

Love, easy it comes and easy it goes. Y/N and Haz’ calamitous love had no tracks ahead of it. The only thing they could do was jump off the train before it crashed and burned. Y/N took that step and fell on Tom’s doorstep. When Haz saw her leave, he understood that hurt couldn’t save a dying soul, so he jumped too, causing their marriage to fall off a hill.

They left the hobbit’s room with a sea of change in their aura. Both had bloodshot eyes from all the rivers they swam through. “I will go settle the tab”, Haz said without meeting her eyes. Y/N walked towards her driver, Arnold, who was standing near the main entrance, eager to tell her about the situation outside.

“There is a herd of paparazzi out there, ma’am”, he said.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment.

“Shall we go?” Haz walked over to them.

“Yeah”, her voice was small and dry.

Arnold opened the door and stayed ahead to make way for them in between the storm of people. They were all screaming something over one another, making it hard to understand. Haz and Y/N had their heads down, trying to hide the stained cheeks from the blinding lights. Haz clutched Y/N’s hand protectively, out of habit.

They made their way inside the car, parked not so far away from the pub.

“You can stay with me tonight, you’re leaving for New York tomorrow morning anyway”, Y/N said looking outside the window.

“It's fine Y/N, I can get a hotel room”

“No, I insist”, her eyes focused on the lamp heads passing them by.

“Okay, I’ll take the couch”

“You can sleep on the bed, with me”

Haz found Y/N’s hand in the dark backseat and squeezed it affectionately.

That night was the last time they slept together in the same bed. When Y/N woke up the next morning, he was already gone. He left a note on the refrigerator that read, ‘thank you for everything’. A bittersweet smile took over her face.

Y/N needed some time to herself, but she also needed to inform people about her decision. She craft an email to her manager, agent and her lawyer. All of them were sent the exact same email.

Harrison and I have decided to end our marriage. I would like to file for divorce as soon as possible, and the process should be civil. I will be unavailable for a few days, so do what you have to with the news.

Y/N

She also sent her parents that email but as a text on the family group chat.

It’s short and to the point, let’s hope they don’t call me with a million questions.

When it came to Tom, she noticed that he had sent her an image a few seconds ago. It was a screenshot of a TMZ article. The headline was, ‘Y/N left her movie premiere early to meet her husband’, it wasn’t jarring but the photo underneath the headline was. Haz was holding Y/N’s hand as tightly he physically could, both of their bodies looked tired and Y/N’s makeup was all messed up. She hadn’t noticed any of that in the moment, last night.

Tom sent her another text.

Tom: Are you ok?

Y/N: not really, I’m filing for divorce

Tom: oh, do you want me to come over?

Y/N: I think I want some time to myself right now

Y/N: I’ll probably watch Gilmore girls the whole weekend

Tom: ok, I’m here if you need anything

Tom: love you

Y/N: you too

---

On Monday, the news broke. The whole world now knew that their marriage was over. The news outlets tried their best to be creative with headlines.

‘Their kingdom has come and gone: Harrison and Y/N file for divorce’

‘Harrison and Y/N, Hollywood’s perfect couple not so perfect anymore’

These were some of the most impressive ones according to Y/N’s management team but they decided to keep it to themselves. No one had heard from Y/N since Saturday. Even though she had told them that she would be unavailable, they still sent emails, warning her to stay off social media sites, especially twitter, the creator of hate wagons.

Twitter was not kind to her at all. Their divorce was trending in the entertainment section. Many people thought that it was their right to comment on this situation. They had a lot to say, mostly about Y/N.

Y/N would often find herself diving into the rabbit hole of her trending tag. She would read almost everything they had to say about her, the good and the bad, but the bad overwhelmed the good.

‘She was only in it to get famous’

‘She ugly if I was Harrison then I would drop that ass too’

‘She is so fake’

‘Harrison is better off without her’

‘She was def cheating on him’

‘Why would someone even love Y/N’

She didn’t notice, but this was getting to her. She would constantly stare at her reflection, picking her appearance apart because someone on the internet called her ugly. Y/N would rethink everything she ever said in front of the media wondering whether she sounded fake or not. She would wake in the middle of the night, pacing like a ghost, thinking she didn’t deserve Tom at all and that he would realise soon enough.

All would be lost.

Even though she thought no one noticed that she was slowly losing her mind, Tom did. He would look at her touching her face, getting lost in deep thoughts. He could feel her tossing and turning in the bed, every night. He would look through her while she’s looking through her phone. Her leg would never stop fidgeting while at rest. He noticed everything.

He took it upon himself to save her from the demons. It was late evening, Tom picked Y/N up from the set. The whole ride home, Y/N was on her phone, mindlessly scrolling through her twitter, reading every inch and every corner. No words could escape her.

When they reached home Y/N informed Tom that she was going to take a shower. Tom was in the kitchen getting the food ready, when he saw Y/N’s phone unattended on the kitchen island. He was tempted to go through with his plan.

He picked up her phone and unlocked it, he knew her password. He went on deleting every social media app from her phone and also changed his contact DP on her phone. Earlier it was an embarrassing childhood photo, he changed it to a scanned Polaroid photo of them together.

Y/N came out with a towel tied up her head. She grabbed two plates from the cabinet and set them on the island.

“What are you making?” she asks him.

“Rice paper rolls”

“So we’re having Vietnamese today, interesting”, she grabbed her phone to check her Instagram.

Where the fuck are all my apps?

“I think my phone has some defect, the Instagram and twitter apps got deleted”, Y/N says vigorously swiping through her phone.

“That’s not a defect I did that”, Tom served the dinner.

“You did what? You have no right to go through my phone and delete apps without my permission, Tom.”

“It’s for your own good, all of that shit was getting to your head”, he said calmly.

“No it wasn’t” she poorly defended herself.

“Yes it was, you were letting some random divs tell you what you are worth. That’s fucked up, babe”

She lets out a loud grunt, filled with frustration.

They both ate in silence, only the crunch of vegetables audible.

After Tom was done with his dinner, he got up, placed his dish in the sink, picked up his coat from the sofa and walked towards the door. Y/N’s eyes never stopped following his figure.

“I think I should go back to my apartment”, before Y/N could reply, Tom was out of the door.

They didn’t talk for a day but Y/N realised how peaceful she felt without having other people’s opinions being fed to her constantly. She felt less insecure about her body, her personality and especially Tom.

He loves me so much that he was ready to invade my privacy to help me.

She decides to call Tom, noticing the unfamiliar photo on his contact. The phone rung, he picked it up on the second ring.

“You little shit changed your photo, huh” her smile was audible.

“I did and I’m sorry”

“No, I’m sorry. You were right, I do feel better with all the noise gone, but you know what would make me feel much better, you, here with me”

---

Tom came over almost instantly, it was like he was already halfway to her apartment when she called. They were on the couch, watching a movie on Y/N’s laptop. Y/N had her head on Tom’s lap and he was playing with her hair.

Holding her breath, Y/N slowly said, “You didn’t need to save me, you know”

“I know”, he replies nonchalantly.

“But the real question is, would you run away with me?”

“Of course, where to darling?”

“Somewhere no one can find us and it’s only the two of us”, she scrunches her face.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed, at the pub?”

“Yeah”, she replied, fondly remembering that moment.

“You said we should go to Ireland together and I said don’t make empty promises”

“Well, do you want to run away to Ireland with me?”

“Yes”, he bent downwards and kissed her softly.

THE END

@mysticapples17 @storybookholland @flqwsome  @hollandstanevans

[miss-authorcita]

A/N: So, I'm obsessed (once again) with Taylor's Fearless album and I've decided to write one shots of each of the songs. They probably won't be that good cause I'm literally just writing them down and posting them. (No spellcheck, no beta reader, no nothing) I just wanna get back to writing and this came to mind.

SUMMARY: It's been almost 2 years since Civil War. You and Steve have grown closer while on the run, but you can't help missing the roller coaster love you and Tony shared. (Inspired by: That's The Way I Loved You)

I was sitting by the window of my ratty Motel room, simply staring at the wet cobblestones of the empty street barely lit up by two lamp lights. My thoughts kept drowning me, it was a new thing with me when I was alone. I made so many mistakes in my life and now the solitude seemed to bring them all to the forefront of my mind.

A knock brought me out of my stupor and I was instantly in alert, gun out of its holster and aiming towards the door.

"Y/N, it's me and Nat." Steve's voice was heard muffled by the wood.

I relaxed, letting my shoulders fall. I reholstered my gun and unlocked the door, letting both of them step into my room. As soon as I locked the door behind them Steve pulled me by the waist and kissed me. Just a quick peck. I blushed and stepped away.

"I got you something." He smiled and pulled out a packet of skittles from his pocket.

I couldn't help, but smile. "I haven't had these in years not since..." I trailed off not wanting to mention his name.

Steve nodded and kissed my forehead.

"I have to stop by Wanda's and Sam's just to check in. I'll be back later tonight, alright?"

I nodded still staring at the bag of skittles in my hand. Steve opened the door and waited for Nat to walk by first. She stopped beside me and squeezed my forearm making me look up. She gave me her signature side smirk. She always voiced her support. She was mine and Steve's biggest shipper.

After the two of them left, I waited till I couldn't hear their footsteps anymore before collapse on the bed. Once again, while in solitude, I let the memories of my mistakes flood my mind.

It was a few hours later when Steve knocked on my door again. I opened and stepped to the side to let him in. He locked up and once again pulled me towards him by my waist. This time he just holds me.

"I know this life is hard. I know how hard...how difficult leaving was..." He's hesitant with his words, always sensible and caring of my feelings.

I just nod, unable to use words, afraid I'll just start sobbing.

"You know I'm doing everything I can to make this as easy for you as possible, right?"

I pull back and stare up at him. I let my hand caress his bearded jaw as I look deep into his blue eyes. "I know, Steve and I appreciate it so much" I whisper and stand on my tip toes to kiss him.

I fall asleep in his arms that night like many before and again like many times before we have to leave suddenly. Sam is the one to wake us, urgently banging on the door. We'd been tracked and we needed to move out quickly. All of us are out of the building in less that 15 minutes. We head to our cars and Steve opens up my door, helping me step in like a true gentleman.

"You look beautiful tonight." He says with a grin and I roll my eyes with a chuckle and close the door. He jogs to the driver side, and we're all off to find our next hideout.

The ride is long and before I know it I've fallen asleep.

*

"Tony!" I yell as soon as the elevator doors open. "Tony Stark!" I shout once again.

"What!? What!? Why are you shouting?" He asks, coming out of the kitchen. His hair is wet , he's wearing a black tank top and sweats and holding a bag of chips.

"Why am I shouting!? Have you seen the news!?" I yell again. His confused face only makes me madder. The rage is building like the rain and thunder outside like it's mimicking my mood.

"I was showering...so no?" He smiles and that is the last straw. I explode, my voice basically shrill.

"All the news channels are showing the explosion! The one of the building you and the Avengers were in! They don't show you guys coming out of it! I called Tony!"

"Sweetheart, I'm fine. I'm alive." He says like my tone isn't a very obvious clue to my state of mind.

"You didn't answer when I called! You what? Came home, showered and were gonna eat fucking chips! Did you even think to let me know you were okay!?" I couldn't seem to lower my voice even if I wanted to. I was so upset.

"I was gonna call you as soon as I sat on the couch." He excuses.

"Fuck you, Tony Stark!" I hissed and started walking to the elevator to leave.

"Friday close access to the elevators." Tony said as he made his way towards me. I dodged him and made my way to the doors that led to the hall.

"Friday if you could, please." At his command the padlock turned red, obviously meaning they would not open, at least not for me.

We stood a few feet apart, me glaring and him smirking. I must've lost my mind that night because I looked out towards his Ironman platform and made a run for it. He followed me out, both of us instantly soaked by the rain. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to face him.

"Are you insane!? What was your plan!? To jump off of the building!?" He yelled over the roar of the rain.

"You're the one who locked all other exits."

"I was bloodied, bruised and covered in soot and cement and dust, okay!?" His change of tactic threw me.

"What?" My eyes were wide. This whole conversation was an unpredictable rollercoaster.

"That's why I didn't call you. I...didn't want to scare you. I don't want you to worry eveytime I go save the world...So I came here, hid the suit, cleaned up and then I was going to call you."

"I always worry about you, Tony."

He sighed and looked away from me. I'd always known his fear. He lost Pepper because she couldn't handle his Ironman life, so he tried to keep me out of the loop thinking he was helping, but it wasn't.

I stepped closer and wrapped my arms around him. "Call me. It helps me to know how you are. Even if you're bleeding out." I said locking eyes with him

He chuckled. "I'll be sure to do that. I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, you insufferable man."

And with a laugh he kissed me in the rain at 2am we were so in love back then.

*

"We're here." Steve's voice roused me up from my dream, or more like memory.

"Where is he? I mean 'here.' Where is here?" I ask still groggy.

"One of Nat's safe houses." Steve fills in and starts unloading the car.

I'm not sure if it was the dream, but the memory of Tony crushed my mood. Steve must've noticed my shift because he asked if I wanted to sleep alone tonight and I agreed. They're so different that sometimes it's shocking to me. Steve respects my space, Tony was always there even when I didn't want him to, but always needed. Steve has never made me wait, Tony was known for being late. I started telling him the wrong time to try and trick him into arriving on time. They're opposites. Steve gets along so well with Nat who is basically my sister, while her and Tony were never the best of friends. Steve is just charming and endearing and even while being on the run for almost 2 years he's managed to make me feel comfortable. But I can't help it, I miss Tony.

It's while sitting on my bed alone, opening my bag of skittles that the tears come as I remember him. I fall asleep, sobbing that night.

*

I had been sitting in the couch for an hour. Dressed amazing if I may add. Heels and everything which I hated and he wasn't here. He was always so late and I was more than frustrated. I heard the elevator doors open and I didn't even glance. I was gonna strangle the man.

"I know I'm late. I'm sorry, I was--"

I interrupted his apology "Let me guess, you got tied up in the lab? Again."

"Actually no."

His answer suprised me and I turned to glare at him, but my eyes widened when I saw him holding a huge jar full of red skittles.

"W-what is that?"

He smiled and walked closer to me, setting the jar on the table next to the couch.

"I know you only like eating the red ones so ta-da."

I laughed. "Are these the reason you were late or are these a gift to make up for being late?"

"A little bit of both? I forgot to pick the order up earlier today...cause I got tied up at the lab...so I went to pick them up after and that's why I'm late."

I sighed and kissed him. "You drive me insane."

"But that's the way you love me." He teased.

I nodded and kissed him. That's the way I loved him.

*

As I sit outside with Steve, leaning on his chest, I can't help but wonder if he knows. My smiles aren't real, and I've gone numb over the months. I barely feel anything anymore. The numbness worsened after we started whatever this is. Steve has always been looking for someone to fill the emptiness since Peggy and conveniently I needed a balm for the pain of losing Tony. We weren't in love, or at least I hoped he didn't love me...because my heart doesn't feel anything anymore.

*

"You're...you're siding with him?" The crack in his voice made me wince.

"Tony, I can't sign the Accords."

"Why not!?"

"You know what being under the governments control has done to me!" He knew of my past, of the millions of tests I was subjected to, the betrayal, the rules that were only there to hurt me. I'd confided in him every dark moment.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "We need to be held accountable." He repeated to me what he'd said at the conference room.

"I know, but not like this. Tony--" I went to touch him and he flinched away. That simple move broke my heart.

"If you side with him, it'll break us."

"Tony..."

He locked eyes with me, begging me to stay, but I didn't. I couldn't and I lost him.

*

I had decided that morning that I needed to talk to Steve. He was my friend before we became anything more and even if it meant making our runaways situation awkward, I needed to be honest with him. I couldn't keep sleeping wrapped in his arms. He needed to know that my heart belonged to Tony. He needed to know that I spent my days dreaming up plans of how I could see him without getting arrested. He needed to know that I looked for him in every person we passed by. He needed to know...or at least I needed to tell someone. I took a deep breath and started walking towards him when a ring broke the peaceful morning silence.

He looked at the number on his burner phone before locking eyes with me. "It's Tony."

[taetaespeaches]

“You’re not buying our kids $600 shoes.”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 2.1K

a/n: This fic takes place around the time Namjoon showed off those cute little baby shoes in his studio :( so early 2019?? so Joon and Daisy have been going strong a few months shy of a year and well, they’re already talking about babies (in the future) because you know, why not? They’re soulmates, they know what they want. Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoy! :))

WITH your heavy workload, you hadn’t been able to visit Namjoon in the studio for quite some time and you missed it. There was a special appreciation you felt for the man as you watched him in his element.

Choosing to take a long lunch, you picked up some food and decided to surprise your man with some takeout and, well, you. Knowing the door was unlocked, you chose to knock anyway, just to tease your boyfriend by making him get up to answer the door.

“Come in,” his voice called out, you smirking to yourself as you simply knocked again. “Yeah, come in,” he welcomed again. One more knock, and you were met with silence as you awaited his appearance in the door frame. It didn’t take long for him to cross the space of his studio, the door opening to reveal you, leaning against the wall as you held the bag of food down at your leg.

“Delivery,” you smirked, Namjoon’s lips spreading into a happy grin as his eyes widened and brightened in excitement.

“Daisy,” he greeted happily, “Babe, what are you doing here?” He asked, stepping toward you, wrapping an arm around your lower back, pulling you into a sweet kiss.

“Well this is just way too much food to eat by myself,” you joked, gesturing to the bag by lifting your hand slightly. “Plus, I missed you,” you kissed him again. “Missed seeing you work,” you mumbled against his lips.

“I missed you too,” he replied with a grin. “Get in here,” he told you as he tugged you forward, pulling you both inside the studio before he shut the door.

You always loved Namjoon’s studio. It was perfectly decorated to represent his personality, and he took great pride in the space. The room had always been very comfortable. Like a second home.

“How long do I get you for?” He asked as he took the bag from you, setting it on the table the sat in front of his sofa.

“Um,” you thought as you looked around the space, noticing small changes in the placement of certain figures and books. “I have about an hour.”

“That’ll do,” he grinned, approaching you once again, taking your hand in his, leading you to the couch. “Thank you for visiting,” he told you genuinely. “And for the food,” he added, nodding toward the takeout boxes.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you smirked, “I could have brought all seafood, you don’t know yet.”

Looking to the boxes with wide eyes, Namjoon took a moment to crack a smile. “Then I’ll watch you eat,” he countered, you giggling as you reached to open the boxes, revealing various dishes Joon loved. “You’re amazing,” he complimented, placing a hand on your thigh as he leaned toward you, leaving a kiss to your exposed neck.

“It sounds like work should slow down a bit pretty quick then, right?” He asked, wiping his hands on a napkin as you reached to close up the boxes, having devoured the meal.  

“Yeah, hopefully,” you confirmed. “If everything goes to plan.”

“I’m sure it will,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thanks, Dimples,” you smiled graciously. “Are you working on anything right now?” You asked, nodding to the computer.

“Ah,” he exclaimed excitedly, you smiling fondly at his reaction. “The song is about done but I’ve been recording some adlibs to be added into the vocal sections. Just a bit. Right now they’re divided.” Humming in thought, you nodded. “You want to hear it?”

“Yes, please,” you replied enthusiastically, Namjoon standing and quickly approaching his computer.

“How much time do you have left?” He asked as he sat in his chair, you checking your phone for the time.

“Uh, ten minutes,” you told him, Namjoon nodding as he pulled up the track.

“Perfect,” he whispered as he clicked a few things before starting the song. “Ok, tell me what you think.”

The song started with a groovy R&B sound, and you instantly knew it would be a fan favorite. Jimin started with the first verse, his vocals light and airy and as perfect as ever. Then Taehyung sang a verse, the vocals richer and just as good. When Namjoon’s verse kicked in, you sat up, taking in the words and the delivery. The man knew exactly what he was doing when it came to music and he never failed to amaze you.

“This song is incredible, holy shit,” you told him. “You sound great.” The man turned in his chair to flash you a thankful smile, a slight shyness in his features. No matter how many times you complimented him, he never did get used to it.

The song was the kind of song that you almost just couldn’t help but dance to. It was also the kind of song you didn’t want to end. However, the ending was absolute perfection with Jungkook and Taehyung switching line for line before Taehyung did a small run, marking the official completion of the track.

Namjoon stared at you expectantly, you tossing your hands in the air. “That’s a fucking bop, babe, oh my god,” you smiled. “I’m obsessed with that, play it again.”

Chuckling at your sincere enthusiasm, he dipped his head down, looking toward his lap. “It’s good?”

“I think the words I used were a fucking bop,” you clarified. “It’s so good, I think your fans are going to lose their minds over that one.” The man breathed out a sigh of relief, looking at you with bright eyes as he smiled. “You said you’re recording adlibs?”

“Yeah, just to make the song sound more cohesive and rich,” he told you, you nodding quickly in understanding.

“I think that would be good,” you agreed, pretending as though you knew anything about music production. You had no real clue what you were saying, but you knew Namjoon sometimes just needed a boost in confidence over his decisions. “You know what’s best,” you assured him. “It’s going to be even better when it’s all done.”

Giving you a shy smile, he nodded his head a single time, almost as if he was respectfully bowing at you, making you giggle. “Thank you,” he said genuinely, you waving him off.

“Now, play it again,” you grinned. “I need to place it in my memory so I can replay it until the album comes out.”

Laughing, Namjoon turned back to the computer, restarting the track. As you listened, you began cleaning off the small table, placing the boxes in the bag before taking it to the trash can that sat across the room. The song filling the room, you looked around at Namjoon’s belongings, appreciating his collection of toys and figures. He was beyond endearing.

And then you spotted them. And your heart fluttered before butterflies formed in your belly. Utterly endearing.

You could feel Namjoon’s eyes on you as you reached for the small pair of shoes, holding them against your chest. Turning to face your soft boyfriend, you pouted. “What are these?”

Flashing his dimples at you, he chuckled shyly, covering his mouth in slight embarrassment as he lowered the volume on the track, which you later learned was titled ‘Home’. “I thought they were cute.”

“You’re cute,” you told him, looking down at the shoes. “Who buys baby shoes because they think they’re cute?” You giggled. “Oh my god, I love you so much.”

“Come here,” he told you, smiling widely at your reaction to the objects. Walking toward him, you carried the shoes in one hand, your other hand resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around your thighs. Tugging on you, you complied, sitting on his lap, placing the shoes in your lap.

“They are very cute,” you cooed, Namjoon smiling against your cheek before pressing a kiss to it.

“They would be super cute on a baby too, don’t you think?” He questioned, his shy demeanor mixing with his forward question.

“Do you ever think about having children together?” You asked him, skipping the passiveness of his hints, boldly jumping into the topic.  

Smiling softly at you, he rested his dimpled cheek against your shoulder, toying with the little fringe on the shoe in your lap. “Why do you think I bought these?” Turning toward him, you kissed the side of his head affectionately.

“You’re the most adorable man ever,” you complimented, Namjoon letting out a breathy laugh at your comment. “You know I think about it too, right?” You asked him, Namjoon humming thoughtfully. “Someday. Like, I can wait to have kids, but I can’t wait to have kids with you,” you told him, causing Namjoon to lift his head to look into your eyes. “Does that make sense?”

Nodding his head, he shot you a dimply close-mouthed grin. “I can’t wait to have kids with you either,” his smile opened beautifully. Placing his forehead against your own, your hand moved from his shoulder to hold the side of his face.

“I seriously can’t wait to make you a dad, babe,” you pouted, Namjoon kissing your pouted lips quickly. “I almost think you were born to be a father.” Above all else, Namjoon really wanted children. It was his dream to be a dad, which you had briefly talked about before but never in depth. But you knew how excited he was about the possibility of having kids in the future, and it was impossible not to think about that possibility being a shared future. You knew Namjoon would be a natural at parenthood, and that was confirmed by the way his eyes teared up at your genuine compliment.

“I love you so much,” he confessed passionately, emphasizing the words in a way that told you he meant the confession with every fiber of his being as he kissed you once more. “I’m so excited to see you be a mother, babe, I think about it more than I’m even willing to admit,” he chuckled, you giggling with him, resting your cheek on his as you kissed the side of his nose through your smile.

“One day,” you told him. “I promise.” You moved to kiss is cheeks, peppering his face in pecks, the man squeezing the tops of your thighs as he laughed.

“These will probably be out of style by then, huh?” He thought out loud, patting the little shoes you still held onto.

“Mm, the little one could bring back the style. We’ll be raising a trend setter,” you smirked, Namjoon’s eyes widening in excitement. Oh god, combining fashion and children had to be Namjoon’s ultimate fantasy. Lifting the shoes to inspect them further, you pulled your eyebrows together skeptically. “Joon, are these designer?”

“Hm?” He questioned, pretending he didn’t hear your question.

“Namjoon. How much were these?” The man evaded your gaze looking back to his computer to check the time. “Joon.”

“Ah, dang it, it looks like your lunch hour is up,” he shot you a pout, you holding back a smile as you shook your head at him.

“$400?” You questioned, the man shaking his head. “More?” Namjoon shrugged. “$500?” Silence. “Namjoon, no,” you fought back your growing grin. “$600?”

“Not quite,” he countered, you sighing as your lips fully curved upward.

“You’re ridiculous,” you told him fondly as you placed the shoes very carefully on his desk. “I’ll let you handle those.” Standing from his lap the man chuckled at your reaction to the overpriced baby shoes.

“They’re so cute though, look at them,” he defended in a whiny tone. “They’re worth it, aren’t they?”

Shooting him a slight glare, you hummed. “Sure, Dimples,” you teasingly agreed. “I’ll see you at home,” you bid him farewell, placing a kiss to his lips before you headed towards the door.

“See you at home, Daisy,” he called out, watching you walk away.

“I love you,” you told him as you created more distance between you both “but you’re not buying our kids $600 shoes,” you informed him as you opened the door.

“They weren’t even $600, stop exaggerating,” he smiled as you stepped outside.

“It’s not happening,” you yelled to him just before the door shut, separating you from the man until you both arrived home later that night.

As Namjoon sat in his studio, chuckling to himself fondly as he stared at the baby shoes, you walked down the corridor, giggling to yourself about the silly soft man that you absolutely planned to marry and have kids with one day. And though that day was still far off, you were both picturing it vividly in that moment. And it was perfect.  

[thrillridesz]

black magic ▫ sangyeon

➳ pairing: best friend!sangyeon x fem!reader ➳ genre: fluff, magic!au ➳ warnings/rating: PG ➳ word count: 2.7k ➳ requested?: no

a/n: this is written as a birthday special for tbz’s best leader sangyeon! happy sangyeon day everyone ^^ this story is also inspired by little mix’s ‘black magic’. This is unedited as of now and I finished this real quick so I’m sorry if it isn’t up to standard!

“Thanks for the surprise, I really appreciated it.”

The night was young as the luminous moon hung high in the dark sky, casting a soft, white glow on the earth below. A cool, night breeze whipped gently against your cheeks while you strolled the quiet streets with Sangyeon, a tranquil silence in the air safe for the soft scraping sounds of the fallen autumn leaves against the gravel ground as it got caught in the wind. Wrapped up tightly in your coat, you felt a sense of warmth spread across your chest, a warmth more cosy than anything else.

“It’s no problem! It’s your birthday, it had to be perfect.” You replied, shooting him a bright smile as you stuffed your hands into your coat pockets.

Sangyeon grinned, his eyes crinkling into crescents.

“It was, don’t worry. Not gonna lie though, I didn’t think it was Eric in that bear costume even for a second. You guys really scared me right there.”

Your laugh rang through the night as his smile grew wider.

“Well, it was a pretty impromptu idea! It was literally on sale for like 10 bucks, we just had to get it,” you threw your hands up in defense as Sangyeon chuckled softly, his breath coming out in white puffs from the cold.

“Always on the hunt for good deals, y/n. Always.”

“Of course! Though since you’re my best friend, I’m usually willing to pay just a little bit more.” You replied thoughtfully, tapping your chin as if deep in thought.

The two of you have been friends ever since you could walk. For the longest time, it was just the two of you against the rest of the world. When you got bullied by the other kids in the courtyard in second grade, it had been Sangyeon who stuck by you and defended you from them even if it meant he was to take some of the punches in your place. Likewise when Sangyeon had been dangerously close to repeating a year in eleventh grade, you had persisted in staying by his side to make sure he studied and understood everything the teachers’ had to teach. All through middle school and high school, the both of you have been thick as thieves. Whatever you did, he did as well and whatever he did, you did too. Things like spending Halloween and coordinating outfits, going to school and studying for exams… The two of you were each others’ constants and if anyone was to ever look up the term ‘best friends’ in the dictionary, they would no doubt find both your names in there.

What sort of ‘best friend’ would you be not to at least fork out a few extra dollars for the sake of an amazing birthday for the one and only Lee Sangyeon?

You didn’t notice the slight frown that crossed Sangyeon’s face which he quickly replaced with a soft smile but the look in his eyes were hardened and detached.

“Right.”

“Wait, what’s that?”

You stopped dead in your track, squinting as you pointed into a distance. Before Sangyeon could reply, you grabbed onto his hand, pulling him behind you while you made your way over. The colour in his cheeks darkened as he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly, peering at you shyly. You were too engrossed in staring at the display in front of you to notice him, your nose practically touching the glass panel.

“Black Occult?” You mumbled under your breath, your eyebrows furrowing together.

“What’s going on?”

You turned to Sangyeon, a look of confusion etched in your face.

“You don’t find this weird?”

“What about it?”

“This was never here.”

At that, Sangyeon narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the store’s exterior. Wrinkling his nose, you saw the belated realisation dawn upon him.

“Oh, right. Didn’t this used to be an arcade?”

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re so dense sometimes, it’s unbelievable.”

“Can I help you guys?”

The two of you whipped around to see a certain pink haired boy standing with his arms akimbo at the entrance, staring at the both of you. His eyes were blue, almost unnaturally so, and he was clad in just about the most colourful suit you’ve ever seen anyone don on.  It felt like an assault to your sights, with all the neon colours yet somehow there was such a mysterious aura to him. In a way, it felt like there was an almost mystical vibe that you got from him that made you inclined to think that he wasn’t in any way human.

“W-We… Oh, we’re sorry. We didn’t know you were open.” Sangyeon replied and you could hear a slight tremble in his voice. He definitely felt the same.

“Are you guys looking to purchase anything?” The scowl on the boy’s face disappeared as his eyes widened.

“Um…”

“Excellent! Please, come on in. I was wondering why you guys were standing outside acting all weird but I didn’t realise you guys wanted to come in. It’s this goddamn black glass, isn’t it? I’ve told Haknyeon so many times we should change it. Makes it so hard to look in, I swear.” He rambled on, holding the door open with a wide grin on his face.

“Come on in! Feel free to look around. If you need anything, I’ll be here. Just call my name, Chanhee.”

You and Sangyeon exchanged a look as if hesitating to enter but one look at Chanhee’s enthusiastic expression prompted you to see foot into the store. Seeing that you were going in, Sangyeon shrugged as he followed suit.

The moment you entered the store, the overwhelming scent of lilies and peaches hit you with a pang while the dim lighting made it difficult to navigate even within the store. Yet once your eyes adjusted to the dimness in the room, you couldn’t help but marvel at the oddities that surrounded you.

On the wooden shelves attached to the wall, were rows and rows of oddly coloured liquid, too bright or too unnaturally coloured to have come from a source of nature. Several sprigs of unknown herbs hung on the walls, tied into bundles by string while on another side, candles of all shapes, sizes and scents lined the table. Well-polished crystals were arranged meticulously on an old mahogany coffee table near the counter and a particularly interesting looking bird flitted around in a wrought Victorian-style iron birdcage. It was small with a white beak and purple and yellow feathers with its wings flapping so fast, you could barely see it moving. You have never seen a bird like that before and although you started towards it, something else caught your eye entirely.

Picking up a small bottle, you inspected the glowing golden liquid in it, Tilting it in your hand, the viscosity of the mixture and the velvety look it had was almost mesmerising to stare at. As you turned it over, you leaned in to read the faded label on it.

“Love potion.” You said aloud, causing Sangyeon who had been looking at a bunch of tarot cards to look up at you.

“Ah, yes! One of our bestsellers that is!” Chanhee exclaimed, his eyes shining with joy and excitement. “Guaranteed to work! It’s only 15 dollars.”

“Why would you need anything like that?” Sangyeon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest as his biceps bulged ever so slightly.

“You never know… I just thought it looked pretty.”

Somehow, you couldn’t stop staring at it. It was as if it was whispering your name to ‘just buy it’. Then again, it could really just be the impulsive shopper in you but there was something so alluring and magnetic about it that you just felt like you had to have it in your possession. It was like letting a child go lose in a candy shop and finally seeing that one lollipop with the most beautiful swirls and crazy colours that just screamed flavour. You didn’t exactly care even if it wasn’t an actual potion, it just looked so aesthetic that you had to buy it.

“I’ll have it!”

Sangyeon looked at you as if you had just sprouted horns on your head as you handed over a dollar bill over to Chanhee who accepted it readily.

“Surely, you don’t actually believe that it’s a love potion.” He blurted out much to the disgruntlement of Chanhee who shot a deathly glare at him.

“It is! It’s been tried and tested. It works, okay?” He said with an air of haughtiness which Sangyeon grumbled at and instantly, Chanhee knew. He should have known earlier in all honesty, from the way he had seen the man stare at you. A slow smile began to spread across his face.

Interesting.

As Chanhee watched the two of you leave the store with Sangyeon still rambling on about how you ‘just wasted 15 bucks for nothing’, he leaned into his chair contentedly. With a snap of his fingers, a cosy glass of grape wine materialised in his hands and with a sip, he sighed.

“Darling didn’t even need a love potion.”

“I can’t believe you actually bought it.” Sangyeon said, his voice still carrying a tone of disbelief.

“Look at it though, isn’t it pretty? I mean even if it isn’t actually a love potion, it’s nice to look at.” You said, still looking at the glowing liquid in the tiny bottle. Slotting in the key and entering the shared apartment the two of you shared with Younghoon, a childhood friend to the both of you and Hyunjae, a mutual friend from university. Since Younghoon was away in Spain with his girlfriend, Bea, it was really only Hyunjae in the house who you found clad in a dinosaur onesie as he lounged in front of the television with a big bowl of buttered popcorn in his lap.

“Oh, you guys are back. I was wondering where you guys went after the party.”

“We were… A little caught up.” Sangyeon said slowly, casting you a knowing glance which you avoided.

“Figures. You guys left earlier than I did.”

“Because you were busy fraternising with anyone you can possibly bring home, which I can see you’ve failed.” You joked and Hyunjae tossed a pillow at you, with a scowl on his face.

“Ugh, get out of my way.”

You laughed out loud as you set the bottle on the kitchen tabletop, causing him to turn to look. When he did, his eyes widened almost comically large as he leapt to his feet.

“What’s that?” He shuffled over quickly with a look of awe.

“Some stupid love potion thing,” Sangyeon replied curtly before you could even open your mouth to say anything. You turned to him with a frown at which he merely shrugged off carelessly as he preoccupied himself in rummaging through the refrigerator for a late night snack.

Taking the bottle from you, Hyunjae held it up against the light, his dark eyes shining with overflowing curiosity and doubt. The light reflected off the smooth,clear glass, making the gold liquid inside it look even more luminous and even wispy with the liquid swirling almost in slow motion no matter how you look at it. You have never seen anything like it and judging from Hyunjae’s expression, neither has he.

“Looks interesting.” He declared after a moment of inspection as Sangyeon turned to him in disbelief.

“Not you too. That guy definitely ripped y/n off. Seriously, y/n.” He tsked, sauntering over and snatching the bottle from Hyunjae.

“Doesn’t seem like anything special. A love potion? In this day and age? I don’t buy it for a second.” There was disdain in his eyes as he pursed his lips in disgust. Popping open the bottle, a sweet scent of tangerines and pineapples rapidly permeated the small apartment and maybe it was just you but you thought you felt your heart flutter just a little. A smile made its way onto your lips quite unconsciously and a tiny jolt of electricity shook you in the most delightful way possible.

Could it be…?

You lifted your gaze to see Sangyeon stare at the bottle in his hand with a startled look on his face, his mouth slightly ajar and you knew that he had felt the exact same thing. Though that look of surprise disappeared just as quickly as it came and his expression hardened.

“That’s a lot of artificial flavouring for one bottle.” He clenched his jaw as his grip on the glass bottle tightened and you could see the veins protruding ever so slightly from his forearm.

You narrowed your eyes.

“If you’re just going to whine, then give it back to me. Just don’t look at it.”

As you leaned forward, Sangyeon took a step back.

“Why? Are you going to try giving that to someone?”

Raising an eyebrow, you regarded him with suspicion.

“Sure, why not? There’s a really cute guy in my statistics class, even if it doesn’t work - which I’m pretty sure it doesn’t so don’t worry - it’s still worth a shot.”

You barely noticed the flash of disappointment in Sangyeon’s eyes and how his shoulders sagged ever so slightly as you ripped it from his hands. Yet before you could cap it back, he grabbed it back so hastily that you didn’t even have time to react. Throwing his head back, you and Hyunjae could only watch in shocked silence as you gulped down almost half the bottle.

Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, he shot Hyunjae a piercing glare as the latter let out a wolf whistle, his eyes filled with mirth and genuine adoration.

“Damn. That was... Ironic.”

You didn't say anything except stare at Sangyeon and a moment passed without anything out of the ordinary happening. There was no burst of sparkles or anything growing out from anyone’s body, nothing crazy at all. 

Huh. So maybe it was actually a hoax.

“That should be enough proof,” he said in an ‘I told you so’ tone which you rolled your eyes at. “That's some nice potion though or whatever you wanna call it.”

“Really? Let me have a taste.” 

Reaching over, Hyunjae took a sip and hummed merrily. 

“Oh dang, this is amazing. It’s like an orange smoothie except a million times better.”

Lifting his head, he turned to look at you and what you saw made you almost stumble back in shock. The colour of his eyes held a faint flash of pink before they returned to normal but when they did, they no longer held the playfulness and casual air that Hyunjae always wore but rather, they were filled with such intense passion and affection. It was like looking into the eyes of someone who was extremely, completely, slap me silly and deeply...

In love.

“Have I ever told you how pretty you look? I know I’ve never said this but... I think I love you,” Hyunjae said in a low, soft voice as he reached out to hold your hands in his.

“I...I...” You spluttered at a complete loss of words, wringing your hands frantically. 

At that, Sangyeon swivelled around to stare at the two of you. 

He could only watch as Hyunjae lifted his hand to gently brush your hair away from your face as his other hand reached up to cup your face. 

“How could I not have notice- Hey!”

Grabbing him by the collar from behind, Hyunjae practically flew back as Sangyeon pulled him away with a disapproving frown on his face. There was a deep frown etched onto his face, his eyes crinkling as he looked at the latter with an almost irritated expression. Though somehow, you could detect a faint hint of fear in his demeanour. In a way, the uneven and volatile energy radiated so strongly off him that it was hard not to see it in any other way.

Was Sangyeon perhaps jealous?

No. It couldn’t be, he was your best friend. Furthermore, how did the potion work on Hyunjae but not Sangyeon? Unless...

You let out a soft gasp as the realisation dawns upon you. It seemed as if Sangyeon may have come to the same realisation almost as soon as you did because he turned to you with such an expression of sheer panic, the sound of his heart pounding so loudly you could hear it. 

The potion didn’t work because he was already in love with you.

[forever-rogue]

A Good Man - Part 3

A/N: Hi friends, so I have a confession to make. I am a liar, a dirty, filthy liar because I said this would be 3 parts. Yeah, no, it’s gonna be more than that. I’m aiming for 5. But you never know apparently. So! Enjoy part 3 :) As always, comments and feedback is welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! xx

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 7.4k (oops?)

Warnings: yearning, oh so much yearning; sm**ches

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Opening the brightly colored box of tea, you held it up to your nose and let the warm citrus and spice notes overwhelm your senses. Humming softly in content, you pulled out one of the sachets and delicately placed it into your favorite teacup, figuring that only the best would do. You read the back of the box, finishing just as the kettle started whistling on the stove top.

Grabbing it, you filled up your cup and made sure the bag was fully submerged, debating on adding just a drop of honey, but quickly decided against it and put the little bear shaped container back into the cupboard. Picking the cup up, you were planning on high tailing it back to your room, to avoid any sort of questioning from Sarah. She would surely be home at any time now, and you wanted to avoid any confrontation. 

"That's an impressive new collection of teas," her voice startled you so much that you almost sloshed the tea all over yourself. You had been so wrapped up in your preparation that you hadn't heard her come in at all...or she'd been extra quiet to try and catch you up to something, almost as if she could sense something was up.

"Yes," you gave her a dismissive look and made it a point to avoid her eyes as you tried to sweep past her.

You just knew she wouldn't let it go. No - that was not her style at all.

"These are all...uncommon," she commented and you swallowed the lump in your throat, "isn't that one tea shop in Austin the only place that sells this?"

"Huh, yeah, maybe so," you knew exactly where they were from. You'd paid the place a few visits yourself over the years; that's how you know the significance of the gift, "look, I've got a lot of homework to do, and this paper to finish up."

"When did you have time to go and get these?" you stopped dead in your tracks as you quickly tried to think of an excuse, a reason, somehow you could have gotten the teas without her knowing. And she knew damn well that you had been home all weekend, working away on various projects and your paper for Javier's class that you were determined to make perfect.

"It was a delivery," it was a quick lie, the first one that came to mind. You turned around and gave her a nonchalant shrug, "it was here when I got home a little bit ago. My mom sent them over, thought it was a nice treat."

"Your mom stopped over in Austin and sent them to you?" she could tell you were getting close to snapping, but was going to keep pushing and pushing until you broke, or she dragged the truth out of you, "and wrapped them with a ribbon? Where's the shipping box?"

"I threw it out already..."

Her hands were on her hips as she stared you down with a cocked eyebrow, your name rolling off of her tongue in an accusatory tone, "where did you get the teas?"

"Sarah, stop," you tried to be firm; resolute. Instead it sounded more like a plea than anything else, "it's nothing."

"If it's nothing, then tell me where you got these," her ocean gaze was searing as you let out a long breath and bowed your head slightly.

"Javi," you finally admitted, letting his nickname hang in the air for a few long, pregnant pauses, "they're from Javi."

"Holy shit," she said after a few moments, but all you could do was nod as you stared at your feet. It didn't sound so...normal when it was finally out in the air. Maybe you had both overstepped your boundaries. But, even if you did, you couldn't really find it in your heart to care, "he really likes you. Or he's got absolutely way too much free time on his hands."

"Should I not have accepted?" you felt silly, almost like a child getting scolded for doing something naughty. But you were both consenting adults, and neither of you had technically done anything wrong, "h-he had it waiting for me at my desk. I didn't know what else to do."

After the class had ended, and you'd spent the lecture basically staring at Javi and vice versa, you'd been determined to go and speak to him. But instead, your nerves had only increased as the time went on and you weren't even sure what to say, where to begin. Instead, you hastily packed up your bag and left along with everyone else, keeping yourself hidden in the zombie horde of other students. You'd felt guilty about it since, and hoped Javier wouldn't take offense...maybe he'd just think you had somewhere else to be right away.

"No, no, no babes," Sarah could practically hear the gears turning in your head as you thought of every negative outcome, every bad possibility, "that's not what I meant. I just meant that...obviously, there’s something to this all. Think about it - you don't just go out of your way like to keep up something special for someone you don't give a shit about. You know?"

"Yeah," you agreed as you set the cup down on the counter and ran a hand through your hair, "I know. It's just...I feel like that I like him...as more than a professor. Its definitely a crush, and I still barely know the man, but..."

"But you want to," she easily concluded as you groaned and threw your head back, staring at the ceiling as if you were begging it for answers, "there’s nothing wrong with that. You're just two people who happened to meet a certain way. Imagine if he was man that you'd met out one day, like a bookshop or while getting a coffee. You wouldn't be having reservations then, would you?"

"Most likely not."

"Then think of it that way," she insisted, stealing your cup and taking a sip of the sweet tea. She instantly made a face that suggested it was delicious, "just because he's a professor-"

"My professor!"

"Doesn't mean it has to be weird," she insisted, "in a few months he won't be your professor any more, and by the end of the school year you won't be a student anymore. Think of it like that."

"What if, and this is a big if, something were to happen between us, then what? He could lose his job," you couldn't think of doing that to him, no matter how much he didn't care about the position. It would never sit right with you, "I'm not...going to do that."

"Babes, nothing is going to happen," Sarah promised as she pushed the tea back towards you, "you don't even know his true feelings yet, although I believe my suspicions are correct. Talk to him, and see where it goes."

"I wish it was that simple," you took the mug and finally tasted the tea for yourself. It was divine; you wondered how carefully he'd chosen this particular kind, "I feel like I'm over complicating things."

"You are," she gently tapped your head and caused you both to laugh, "a classic over thinker...next time you see him, just go and talk to him. Everything will be fine."

"I could just call him," you murmured under your breath, more to yourself than anything else, but Sarah much have had supersonic hearing because her mouth had just about fallen to the floor.

"Excuse me?!"

"He...he gave me his number," your cheeks were surely a brilliant shade of crimson by now, feeling hotter than ever, "when I went to see him last week. He told me to call him if I needed help with my paper."

"Help with your...oh hell no," she was almost jumping with excitement at the revelation, "he totally didn't give you his number so you could call if you needed help. We all know exactly why he did it."

"Ummm...." you were at a loss for words, staring at the tea and the playing with the string attached to the sachet, "I guess not."

"Call him," she insisted firmly, "call him."

"Yeah?" you asked and she fervently nodded, her curls bouncing wildly. You bit the inside of your cheek as you slid off the stool and grabbed the tea, "maybe I will. But do not, and I mean this, do not listen in."

"Scout's honor," she gave you the three finger salute as you marched off to your bedroom, practically shaking with nerves at the possibility of calling Javier. Before you could close your bedroom door you heard her shout, "good luck!"

You could do this. You totally could. No if, ands, or buts about it. It was just going to be a friendly conversation ti thank him for the more than generous gift he had given. Right? Right.

Then why did you feel so damn nervous?

Your hands were practically shaking as you sat at your desk, pulling the phone towards you. Catching your reflection in the window, you let out a sigh at yourself and how panicked you looked, almost like a little deer caught in headlights. It was dark already, a small rainstorm had started earlier; the perfect environment for a cup of tea.

Picking up the receiver, you dialed Javier's number; you were almost embarrassed that you had it memorized it already, having repeated it to yourself so many times over the weekend. Pathetic, you bemoaned yourself, a pathetic girl with a silly little crush.

Once you dialed the number, you held the phone close to your ear waiting for baited breath to see if he would even answer. Maybe he didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. Maybe it could go to his voicemail. Would you even leave a voicemail? Should you? Should you have called from a blocked number? There were so many things spewing through your mind.

It rang and rang, seemingly endlessly, by just before you were about to hang up and let it go, he answered. His voice was still as warm and rich over the phone as it was in real life and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine as you listened to him say, "hello?"

"J-Javi? It's me," you said in almost a rush as you realized that he might not realize who me was. You sighed quietly as you said your name, wondering if you should cut your losses and hang up already.

"Hey," he seemed to relax slightly when he realized it was you, "how are you? Everything's okay, right?"

You tried not to grin from ear to ear at his question, mentally calming yourself down, "yeah, Javi, everything's fine. I just...wanted to thank you. For the tea. Its wonderful, truly, and I can only imagine the trouble you must have gone through to get it. I appreciate it, I'm drinking one actually, the citrus spice one, and its delicious."

"It was nothing," he promised but for some reason you couldn't help but think it was a lot more then that. It definitely was; if only you could have seen his face when he'd heard you say his name, "I just wanted to thank you."

"Whatever for?"

"Being the one student I've had in three years that gives a damn about the class," he said and you couldn't hold back your laugh. He liked that sound - he liked it a lot, "you don't know what it's like to go through this same bullshit all the time. Its nice to get a break from the routine, the norm."

"Thank you for helping me," it was weak trade off, but you were happy to give it to him. You were happy to listen to that warm, rich timbre any time, to watch those honeyed, syrupy eyes any time, "I appreciate you giving me your time. And I'm sorry for running out the way I did earlier.”

"Why?" he asked softly as he waited for your response with baited breath. He desperately hoped that he hadn’t scared you off for whatever reason, or come on too strongly, "why did you leave?"

"I wish I had a good answer for you," you cradled the receiver between your shoulder and ear, nervously twisting the cord between your fingers, "I got nervous. So I just left...I just...it wasn't you, or anything."

"Do I make you nervous?" Javi sounded almost...nervous himself. Worried? There was a quality to it that you hadn't heard before.

"No, not really," you admitted. It wasn’t Javi himself that made you nervous or anxious, it was all the ideas or possibilities or what could, of what this could turn into. You just hoped that you weren't about to make a fool out of yourself. How were you supposed to face the rest of the semester if you were completely wrong about this? You squeezed your eyes shut as you mulled over your next words carefully, trying to figure out what to say, "its just...I hope I'm not reading this wrong. Or making something out of nothing."

There was a sharp inhale of breath on the other side and you could just picture him, sitting at home, frustrated looked on his face. After a few moments of tense silence, you heard him again, "what do you think this is? What do you what it to be?"

"Javi..." you let his name hang in the air, trying to get your point across without needing to expand. Letting out a shaky breath you thought about just hanging up then and there. But no. You were already in too deep, "I...don't want to be just your student."

There was a tangible shift between the two of you as the air remained silent for some time. All you heard was a few shaky breathes on his end. You wished, desperately so, that you could see what was going on in his mind. Little did you know, Javier was sitting there, his stack of papers now long forgotten as he tried to retain his composure. He ran a hand over his tired face, almost wishing he hadn't asked, almost wishing you hasn't told him what he wanted to hear. This wasn't part of his plan. This wasn't how he was supposed to be a good man.

"Javi?" just when you couldn't handle the still, tension feeling hanging in the air, his name came out almost like a pathetic whimper.

"Are you free this weekend?" he blurted the question, not letting himself linger too much on it before he changed his mind, "maybe we could go and get a tea?"

A blush blossomed in your cheeks at his question, your stomach erupting in butterflies at the sheer concept of spending time with him outside of school. You realized you were nodding silently, before finding the proper words, "I'm free this weekend. I'd like that...a lot. Maybe we can even settle and get a coffee instead."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you almost whispered into the phone. Your voice was so soft and quiet that almost weren’t sure anything came out. But then you heard a soft sigh, almost like a relieved breath on the other side. 

"Great," he couldn't believe that this was happening, couldn't believe that he was getting nervous over all of this, like a schoolboy. He’s been out with countless women in the past, seemingly nothing phased him, but here he was, genuinely terrified, but excited at the prospect of what could be. He bit his bottom lip before deciding to make sure his intentions were crystal clear, "then it's a date..."

"Yeah," you agreed, begging yourself not to sound too eager or excited, “it’s a date. How about Saturday around one? I can meet you at the old cafe near the other side of town? I forget the name, but it’s the only decent one in town and they’ve got pretty good coffee.”

“You’re sure you don’t want the tea?” he joked and you felt some of the tension and nerves subside. This would be fine, everything would be.

“Positive,” you promised, “we’ll get tea next time.”

Your promise of a next time, that you were confident enough to think this could go somewhere was enough to make him realize that maybe this wasn’t a horrible decision after all, “how does that sound?”

“I’ll see you then,” you twist the cord of the phone so tightly, trying not to completely freak out. You had a date with Javier Pena. Granted, it was only an afternoon meet up for coffee, but a date was a date, and he’d confirmed it, “have a good night, Javi.”

“You too,” how was his voice this dreamy? You could listen to it for hours and hours, even if he would have been recited the phone book to you. Hell, you practically did that in his class every week anyways. You couldn’t wait to hear it, with no restraints, no pressures from being in your roles as teacher and student. To get to see him, just him, as he was, “good night.”

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you put the receiver back in its cradle, leaned back and staring at the ceiling. Holy shit. You had actually just agreed to a date...with your professor. 

Before you could actually think too much about it, your bedroom door slammed open and Sarah burst in, ambushing you from behind and you squealing into your ear. Your face warmed up as you realized that she already knew.

“Sarah!” you moaned at her, trying to hide your face out of pure embarrassment, “I told you not to listen in on my call!”

“I didn’t listen to your call,” she insisted, “I just sat outside your door and listened to your end of the conversation. That’s not technically listening in on the call, because I didn’t hear his end of the conversation.”

“Of course,” you playfully nudged her, “you would find the one loophole.”

“What can I say?” she seemed very proud of herself indeed, “I’m a pro. But you! Can you believe? A date with a hot professor. What a dream!”

“Please,” you grabbed her arm and looked at her with wide eyes, “don’t so much as breath a word of this to anyone. I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea or anything.”

“I would never,” she promised, “your secret is safe with me, babes. But, I will expect a full report after your date.”

“Maybe...”

“I’m your best friend!” she pouted, “it’s girl code, practically the law!” 

“We’ll see...”

“You can’t bone the hottest professor on campus and not tell me!”

“SARAH.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Javier," Chucho shook his head at his son, watching as sweat dripped off of his face and neck. Javier spared him a quick glance, finishing up the fence post he was working on before wiping the sweat from his brow and catching his breath. He'd been helping his father to fix up his fence all afternoon, virtually wordless, but glad to be at his father's ranch again. Stevie had been ecstatic to come along, running around all afternoon and studying the various animals around the ranch and trying to play with them.

Javi had the day off, a rare occurrence these days, and decided to make the most of it, leaving early in the morning to make the several hour drive to Laredo. It had been some time since he'd seen his father, and he'd been itching to spend some time with him. He was completely breaking through every other one of his normal routines, why not do this as well? Despite being a man long grown, he still often turned to his father for his advice, and general comfort when be really he needed.

"What's up, Pops?" his hands went to his hips as Chucho came over and offered him a cold bottle of water.

"You've been working out here all day, barely said a word," he noted and Javi shrugged at his father's concern laced with all sorts of silent accusations, "are you going to come in and talk to me, mijo? Or are you just going to stay out here for the rest of evening?"

"I don't know what you're talking about papá," he wasn't even sure why he was lying to his father. He could read him like a book, almost better than anyone else. Chucho raised an eyebrow at him but shook his head, turning to go back inside. He beckoned for Javier to follow, which he begrudgingly did, feeling like he was a small boy again, about to be scolded for something or other.

"I made tamales," a little spring suddenly appeared in his step at the thought. He never bothered to cook extravagant meals or anything fancy for himself, so he was always glad to come home and get a warm, delicious meal, "your mama's recipe."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javi piled his plate high with the delicious foods, gratefully accepting a cold beer from Chucho as he sat across the table from him. Before he could even get the first bite into his mouth before being interrupted.

"So, mijo, what's on your mind?" Javi groaned inwardly as he set his fork back down. He clasped his hands and rested his chin on them as he tried to figure how, and what, to tell him.

"Can't I just want to come and see you, papá,?" he asked with a noncommittal shrug as Chucho's brown eyed gaze remained fixated on him.

"Absolutely, you're always welcome," he answered, "but I am your father. I've known you since birth. I know when you've got something on your mind. Que pasa?"

"Papá,," he shoved a huge bite into his mouth and chewed on it, mulling over his words, "I'm just...I guess...thinking about things a lot lately."

"Colombia?"

"Sí," he swallowed his mouthful and slumped slightly in his seat, "there are times when it still hits me. At night, more than anything. I just can't help but think I could have done it all so much better. Cleaner. Less blood on my hands."

"What you did wasn't easy, mijo, it was never going to be," his tone was softer but Javier refused to acknowledge it. He'd gotten this speech at least ten times before from his father, and countless times from others, but it never made him feel better, "you did your best, you know that everyone knows that."

"I just can't help but think that things could have turned out differently," the image of Horacio Carillo killing the young boy, and countless others, without hesitation, directly in front of him were a frequent theme in his darkest dreams, "all those innocent lives that were wasted...when we were taking out Calí cartel, the wife of Franklin Jurado, you remember him right, she called me a piece of shit. She meant it, I could hear it in her voice. Sometimes I think she was right."

"You are not a piece of shit, Javier," Chucho insisted firmly, almost slamming his fist down on the table. He hated knowing that this was still plaguing his son, "you are a good man. You've done a lot of good for a lot of people. The work you did was good."

Javier scoffed at him at him as he just shook his head. He tried to be a good man, lord knows he was trying. But lately he was wondering how well he was doing that in the department, "it was a load of shit. We brought down Escobar and Calí for what? Just for more scumbags to come out and stake their claim? To show just how fucking corrupt our government and those in Colombia are? To show that that everything is completely fucked up and nothing will ever change? Yeah, I did that. It was good for a little while, soon it'll all go back to normal and nothing we ever did will matter."

"Javier," his head almost whipped up at the sound of his name, coming out so sharply from his father's mouth, "you didn't know better at the time, neither did Steve, or those two young ones you worked with in Calí. You did what you had to at the time. If you had known any different at the time, you would have it differently. You're a good man, Javi, you've always been a good boy mijito."

"I wish I could I see it that way," he took another bite, trying to get his father's words into his mind. He knew he was true, that he did his best with what he knew at the time. He always thought that the end justified the means, that sometimes in order to catch bad men you had to do bad things. But at the end of it all, he wondered if it all had been worth it. It had to be right? He had made a difference, he wanted to believe that his work wasn't for naught, "sometimes I wonder."

"Tell me, if you had know there was a different way to do things, would you have done it?"

"Of course," he nodded, taking a long drag from his beer as he wiped at his brow, "I would do whatever was best."

"Exactly," Chucho wished he could get his son to see him in the same light he saw him in. But he was hard, and he knew he could never truly know the full extent of Javier's inner torment, "there is no use ruminating on things that are in the past. You cannot change them now. You shouldn't dwell on things that are done. Your path is not behind you, it is in front of you."

"Lo sé," he agreed, finishing up the tamales on his plate and downing the rest of his beer. Even if he had a hard time believing what was he saying, it made him feel even minutely better, "it's just hard sometimes, you know?"

"I do," he agreed, "now tell, what else is on your mind? And don't tell me it's nothing, either."

Javi got up and grabbed his plate, bringing to the kitchen, rinsing it as he sat it down in the sink. He leaned against the counter as he contemplated getting himself another beer, but opted against it.

"I think..." gods, he felt like nothing more than an anxious child at this point, drumming his fingers along the aging counter top, "there's, well...I might have met someone."

"Oh?" this time Chucho almost gave himself whiplash as Javier refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing his attention on the floor, "a woman?"

"Sí," he answered.

"That's wonderful, mijo," the older man stood up and brought his own plate to the sink, and stood across from Javi. He put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, "you deserve someone special. Especially after you'll been through. It would be nice to know that you have someone looking out for you."

"It's a little more complicated than that, papá," he'd already told him so much, he figured that he could probably just go on and tell him the whole truth. Nothing bad would come of...or at least he hoped it wouldn't.

"Please tell me she's not married..."

"No-"

"Is she pregnant?"

"No-"

"Then what's the problem, mijo?" Javier swallowed the nervous lump in his throat as he looked up and met the gaze of those wise, dark eyes.

"She's a student," he admitted, waiting for his father to yell at him, to freak out, or something. But instead, nothing came. Only a few moments of silence as Chucho waited for him to expand, "she's in one of my classes."

"What's the problem with that?"

"She's my student...she's younger..." he shrugged his shoulders, "it just feels off, I don't know."

"She's an adult, right?" he asked as Javier nodded, adding that she was a senior, "then what is the big deal? You're both consenting adults. Then there's nothing wrong with it. If you like her, Javi, and you think she's good for you, then go for it. Just keep a level head and do what's right. You know what to do son, your mama and I raised you right."

"You don't think I'm a horrible person for being interested in a student?"

"You're not the first and you won't be the last," he stated with a laugh, "what if you had met her at the grocery store or something? Would you be experiencing this  hesitation then?"

"No...not nearly as much anyway," he admitted. The age different might still have bugged him slightly, but he knew he could get over that, "I just don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage of her because of my position or anything."

"She sounds like a smart girl-"

"How do you know?"

"She's interested in you, right?"

Javier snorted with laughter as light flush of color rose up in his golden cheeks. Leave it to his dad to be his best friend and biggest supporter. They'd butted heads numerous times over the years, but at the end of the day, Javier loved his father most of all.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders, son," he promised, giving him a gently nudge, "just be smart and make good choices. You always do."

"Papá," Javier let a small sigh as a smile worked it's way on his face, "gracias por todo."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sat up, bolt right, trying to catch your breath, feeling impossibly hot, despite the chilly morning. Once you realized you were awake and in your own bedroom, you laid back down and staring at the ceiling. You'd just woken up from a dream starring Professor Peña and yourself in a very compromising situation; naturally though, your mind hadn't let you get to the best part, stopping just before you managed to get him stripped of clothing.

Groaning, you rolled over and glanced at your alarm, seeing that it was still much earlier than you would have liked.

Saturday morning had rolled around much sooner than you had expected, and your stomach was in absolute knots. Maybe you could still back out now?

But no - you wanted to do this. You wanted to see Javi.

Instead of talking yourself down, you slid your legs out of the bed and decided to spend the morning relaxing and taking the time to get ready and treating yourself to some much needed relaxation. You spied the outfit you had picked out the night before hanging from the back of your closet. You wondered if it was too much, or not enough...

It was a simple floral shift dress that you planned on pairing with a pair of your favorite chucks. It was still just warm enough it sport, despite being almost fall and you vowed to take advantage of the weather for as long as you could. The dress was innocent enough, bordering on too short and maybe slightly lower cut than it needed to be, but you liked it, and you hoped he would too. Not that it mattered...but still...the idea was nice.

Before changing your mind, or thinking too much about your decisions, you stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting it get hot before jumping in and scrubbing yourself from head to toe. You just want everything to go well. This was really important to you for some reason or another.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When you arrived at the cafe, you were early, despite your best efforts not to be early. You hadn’t wanted to appear too eager, but your nerves had gotten the better of you, and found yourself out the door earlier than expected. You’d even walked, making the decent trek to the other part of town, hoping it would kill more time, but apparently there had been too much spring in your step, and you’d arrived with some time to kill. Instead of ordering your drink already, you’d walked to the back of the cozy cafe, sitting at a small table and pulling out the book you were currently reading - you always keep one in your bag for situations exactly like this. The weather had slowly shifted, and it now looked like it was about to rain; you cursed yourself for walking, but the euphoria of the moment really won over. 

You sighed lightly as you looked around, watching all sorts of different milling about, going about their days. It was calm here, quiet and cozy, just like you preferred. Turning your attention back to your books, you attempting to read the page you had last ended on...but it was proving to be a challenge, and you ended rereading the same sentence about ten times before finally getting the gist of it and moving on. 

You weren’t alone long however, but had gotten absorbed enough into the book that you hadn’t noticed Javier appear across the table from you. He reached over and gently tapped the spine of your book, captured your attention and startling you slightly. He had a smile grin on his face as he watched your eyes widen in surprise, quickly closing the book and slipping it back into your bag.

“Hi,” your voice was but a mere, breathy whisper as you tried your best not to let your cheeks flush too much, “I-I hope you weren’t trying to get my attention for too long. I didn’t even think my book was that interesting!”

“I just got here,” he admitted as he studied you, his dark eyes taking everything in, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary on your chest, something you didn’t think was too intentional. He looked good, more casual than when he was teaching but still almost unfairly handsome. He was sporting a pair of jeans that hugged him in the all the right places, accentuated nicely by the black button up with the rolled up sleeves. He wasn’t wearing glasses today, but he still looked....so good, “how long have you been here?”

“A little while,” you said sheepishly, “I got here a little early. I wasn’t waiting too long.”

“Good,” he jerked his head towards the counter, “come on - let’s go and order. You look very pretty.”

“I, ugh,” you were instantly stammering over your words, trying to remain cool and composed. Instead you found yourself spewing out, “you too.”

“You think I look pretty?” he teased, and half of you expected to be embarrassed, but instead you just rolled your eyes at him and gently shoved his shoulder. 

“You know what I meant,” you bemoaned him, as he laughed and nudged you towards the counter. The woman behind the counter glanced at the two of you for just a moment, eyes flicking between you and Javier before settling on him, and zoning in on him. You had no doubt her thoughts were immediately all consumed by him. You wanted to roll your eyes at her and her obvious attempted to capture his attention, but stopped yourself. He must get this all time; but if he did, he didn’t let it phase him, keeping his gaze trained on you instead. 

“What are you having?” she grabbed a pen to take your order, making the most obvious eyes at Javier, who just ignored and put his hand on the small of your back.

“I’ll just have a black coffee, a little bit of sugar,” he told her before looking at you, attempting to guess your order, “and she’ll have a coffee with cream and sugar.”

You looked up and shook your head lightly, “close, very close. An iced coffee with extra cream and raw sugar.”

“I was almost there,” he insisted as he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. You attempted to grab his hand to stop him, but he moved slightly out of your reach, shaking his head at you, and you decided not to argue with him, “I’ll have it right next time.”

Next time. You really liked the sound of that.

“Whatever you say, Javi,” you said in a sing-song voice as he handed the woman behind a twenty dollar bill and told her to keep the change. He followed you over to the pick up counter. 

“Extra cream?” he said as he watched your coffee being made. You stuck out your tongue and shrugged at him, “so you’re drinking some coffee with your milk, huh? And iced? Dios mio, you might as well stick to tea at this rate. This was not how coffee was intended to be consumed.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his mock tirade, watching his face shift through various expressions before your coffees were placed in front of you. Grabbing yours, you took a long sip and ended with an exaggerated ahh, “delicious. Better than that bitter bean water you’re drinking. Black? Do you hate yourself that much?”

“Not as much as you apparently hate yourself for drinking that poor excuse of a coffee. They would have roasted you in Colombia for that,” the last part slipped out before he could help, and he stiffened slightly, but you instantly relaxed when he noticed that you weren’t hung up on anything. You weren’t going to push him to talk about anything he didn’t want to; you’d already made that up in your mind a while ago

“That was a horrible joke,” you laughed as you slid back into your seat, and he took his place across from you. It was a small and intimate, a fireplace going somewhere near by, casting a light glow around the space and chasing away the chill from the cold, early fall day, “they would have roasted me? You should stick with your day job. And I’ll stick with my tea. I make a coffee exception once in a while, like today.”

“I don’t know how you do tea all the time,” he sighed dramatically, “I’ve been drinking that matcha I got in the mornings, but it’s just not the same.”

“You got matcha?” your eyes widened as you realized he’d taken your suggestion to heart. He took a long sip from his coffee and nodded, “it’s good though, right? Most tea is, just different from coffee. All the ones you got me are delicious...thank you for them, really. It’s such a thoughtful thing.”

“It was nothing,” he insisted, smiling so brightly that his dimple was on full display, “but I am glad you like them.”

“You should...try them sometime,” were you pushing the envelope too much? Did you really care? No, not really, “I-I have plenty, if you’re ever interested.”

“I’d be interested,” he said with a glint in his dark eyes, “I’d be very interested.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Being with Javi was easy; fun to the point where you almost never felt awkward, fun to the point where you were almost laughing the entire time, not questioning if whatever you had said was dumb or too much. He was kind, much more open and relaxed than he ever appeared in the classroom, asking you all shorts of questions about yourself, and answering whatever you wanted to know about him. Within reason. You hadn’t really broached the subject of his time with the DEA in Colombia, and while you were naturally curious, you figured if he wanted to tell you, he would. 

But it didn’t deter from the lovely afternoon you were having. He was animated, using his hands as he talked, his dark eyes expressive and lively. You liked him, how normal and easy this all seemed. You only hoped that he felt the same way about you. Little did you know that he did; he liked you very, very much. He loved how passionate you got when you talked about things you liked, how you had a habit of tapping your chin when you were searching for a word or an answer, how your eyes crinkled in the corners when you laughed, how you leaned in closer to him, listening to him and making him feel you truly cared about what he had to say.

When he realized just how much he liked your smile, he knew he was fucked. So fucked. But then again - so were you.

The day had quickly turned to evening, and it was almost completely pitch back outside. You cursed yourself for deciding to walk, knowing it would be horrible to get home. But as soon as Javier realized that you didn’t have your car, he insisted on driving you back to your apartment. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer; and frankly, you would have been loath to turn down his offer because you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. 

You gave him directions, he deemed you the worst copilot ever as you were horrible with directions, but eventually he found your place and pulled up front, turning off the car while the two of you remained in silence for a few minutes, neither of you wanting your time together to end. 

“Well,” you said finally, avoiding his eyes as you moved to open the car door, “I guess I better get going.”

“I can walk you inside,” it wasn’t a question, more like a subtle plea. Shifting in your seat, you found him watching you with a hopeful expression etched on his features. Biting your lip, something that Javier had noticed you had a tendency to do, you almost drove him crazy. If only you could see how beautiful you were. Nodding, you opened the door and stepped out, waiting for him to come to your side before walking in the direction of your apartment. 

Deliberately making each step as slow as possible, you could feel how warm he was as he walked alongside you. When you reached your front door, you sighed lightly, “well, this is me. Thank you for today...I had a really good time.”

“I did too,” he said gently, his eyes softer than you had ever seen him. You wished there was a way to convey to him just how much, how terribly much you had enjoyed his company, and how reluctant you were to say good night.

You watched each other for a few moments, feeling your heart race as neither of you made any move to leave. But then - suddenly - before you could fully process what was happening, Javier put his hand on either side of your face and crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you with intensity, a searing passion that you took your breath away. You wrapped your arms around his neck, carding a hand through his dark locks as his hands found purchase on your waist and pulled you close. 

His touch, his taste, his smell, everything combined in a way so delightful that you’d never experienced before; surely this was what sheer bliss was like. He felt perfect against you, there was no fumbling awkwardness, instead it felt like the two of you had been doing this forever. He break apart from you only when you were thoroughly breathless, feeling drunk off his kisses. 

Javier studied your face, your eyes wide and lightly swollen lips as he wondered if he’d just made a huge mistake. A million thoughts were running through his mind as he tried not to panic, and reminded him that surely, he couldn’t have read the signs all wrong. But when your expression slowly turned into a shy little smile, a warmth heating up your skin as you looked at him with the sweetest eyes, he knew he hadn’t made a mistake. He reached over you and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face.

“Umm,” you breathed out as you rode out the euphoria of the best kiss you’d ever had, “I...wow. Javi...I had a great time today.”

“Me too,” he agreed, already beginning to miss the feel of your lips against his. He let out a small laugh, almost not believing his luck as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “I hope you have a good night, dulzura.”

“Good night, Javi,” you beamed at him as he slowly turned around to head back to his car, watching until he was just to make sure he was safe...and to admire the view of course. He gave you one last wave before you unlocked the door and stepped inside, leaning against the door and trying to calm yourself down. Despite your best efforts, a small squeal of delight pass through your lips. Bringing a hand to your lips and tapping your fingertips along them, you could tell they were plump and plush from all of his kisses. 

Holy shit. This had actually happened. This was all a reality.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[ijustwant2write]

Confidence-Bucky Barnes x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @sunoficarus​)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello there angel! I've been reading your cute imagines lately and they really warmed my heart and got me out of depression cloud! so i tried to be brave and request something bcs i'm usually shy ><~ can i request a Bucky Barnes x Reader oneshot, the reader is kinda a chubby avenger and she has feelings for him but she gets sad bcs she thinks he'll never fall for someone like her bcs sh's not like the other pretty female avengers annnddd.. yeah! XD~♡’

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name     

Replication=Being able to make a copy of yourself, biological cloning, or the splitting of the body into multiples

Warnings: Insecurity, negative talk about weight/image, sad/crying reader, fluff

                                          *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Opening the fridge, I took out a water bottle, instantly opening it before taking a big swig. We had come back from a mission early afternoon, the team had been away for just over a week, so it was good to be back. Even though I had showered, eaten and unpacked, I still had an immense thirst in me.

"Hey, I'm making toast, you want some?" Natasha asked as she walked in.

"No, I've eaten thank you." I replied, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar.

As she began making her food, she continued talking."You OK after the last week?"

"Yeah, just tired. The longest mission I've done is four days, it's amazing what a few more days can do to you."

"You were great out there, a real natural. Your powers are much more controlled than they used to be."

"Thanks, it's all down to the training I guess."

"And your confidence."

"Really?"

Nat placed three pieces of bread into the toaster, turning around to face me once the lever was pushed down."Yes! It wasn't like you were extremely shy when you first came, but there's a difference in you."

If only I was this confident around someone else.

“You gonna head up early tonight?” Nat asked.

“Definitely. The last time I used my powers like that was when you guys first brought me in. And that was when I didn’t have as much control over them. I think it’s a good idea, we all need the rest.”

“So am I. Actually, Dr Cho wanted to see you. She said something really medical and science-y to explain why but I made no sense to me. Something about your cells splitting...or recreating?"

"Oh, she did mention that before we left. Think she's trying to help me connect more with my replicas, so that I can confuse whoever we're attacking even more. Thanks for telling me."

She nodded, turning around once the toast popped up. I said goodbye, scrolling on my phone as I made my way to Dr Cho's lab. My power to basically clone multiple versions of myself seemed useless at first, until I figured out how to control them and thought about tactics they were useful in. It was very strategic, everything had to be carefully planned. But now that I was getting used to it, everything seemed like second nature. And I had the team to thank for that. 

"Hey (Y/N), thanks for coming by." Helen greeted as I walked into her lab, holding her tablet as she usually did. 

"Hi. So, am I being wired up to a machine today?" 

She smiled."No, nothing like that. Tony and I have been working together on something that will ensure you can keep track of all your replicas."

Helen turned her back to me, grabbing a tray with what looked like four silver bracelets. She gestured for me to stand by her as she placed the tray on the table in front of us. 

"These are your new accessories." she started, picking up a pair."You'll wear them when on missions, and these will be able to connect you to any replicas you create. It's just to help you keep a better track. And any time they are hurt in anyway, the energy from the hit will drive into your bracelet." 

"Like T'Challa's armour?" 

Helen nodded."But instead of propelling back that energy, it'll just mean your replica can hold the energy and use it as a shield. Say someone was stood behind it and the enemy attacked the replica, the real person behind them would be safe." 

"That's amazing!" 

She held out her hand, wanting me to give her my wrist. I complied, letting her put the bracelets on me. They glowed blue before returning to the silver colour, feeling weightless on me. 

"They're able to become translucent depending on what uniform you're wearing. That way they won't be able to differentiate you from your replicas."

"Wow, thank you." 

"Don't thank me just yet. We still need to trial them. I definitely need Tony for this, just to make sure he's happy with them." 

"I think he's gone to rest right now." 

With a cheeky grin, she said,"Don't worry, he won't mind, this is important." 

Helen left me by myself, and I felt slightly awkward around all of the expensive and confusing technology that surrounded me. A thought flashed in my mind to try out the bracelets, but I decided against it, not wanting to risk anything going wrong. Slipping them off and placing them back on the table, I caught myself in the reflection of the windows. My hands subconsciously moved to my stomach, brushing against it before grabbing the skin; they traced upwards to my forearms, repeating my actions despite my brain screaming that I shouldn't. It grossed me out every time, why would I want to touch those parts of me? 

Turning to look at myself side on, I sighed at how stomach looked, almost wincing as my gaze travelled down to my thighs. All that training, the healthy meals I ate, where were the results? Why didn't I look like Natasha or Wanda? I battled with my conscious everyday over this. The tiniest part of it begged me to not look at myself that way, not to throw my hard work away or belittle myself over such a thing; but that was an extremely rare thing to happen, and that voice was hard to hear. The voice that spoke much too often had something completely different to say. It would force me to look at myself whenever I passed anything reflective, to make sure I looked decent, although I never did. It wanted to point out my flaws, it wanted to make me aware and punish me for looking like this,despite all the hard work I put into training. And training had never been about losing weight, it was purely strengthening, learning how to fight/defend myself as well as keep up with my stamina. 

Taking a deep breath in, I faced myself properly, squeezing my hands in and out of fists as I replicated myself, scanning my eyes over every single version of me. There were seven of me altogether, three replicas on either side of me, and I wondered why I even thought about doing this to myself. I made each replica turn more than the other, meaning I was looking at myself at every angle, and I hated all of them. It wasn't fair. Why was my power to make copies of myself when I didn't even like the one, true version of me? 

"(Y/N)?" someone startled me, my replicas instantly disappearing. 

Whipping around as my concentration broke, my face broke out into a blush as I saw Bucky standing in the doorway. It just had to be him, why couldn't it have been anyone else? 

"Y-yes?" I stuttered, immediately breaking eye contact. 

"Sorry, I needed to speak to Dr Cho." 

"Sh-she, uh, she just left, a-actually." 

"OK, I'll come by later." I glanced up, seeing him move to leave before turning back to me."You sure you're alright?" 

I nodded."Mhm."

He slowly nodded, but mostly to himself."Good job this week by the way, you were great." 

I hated how hot I was feeling after the compliment, even when he was gone I felt embarrassed by myself. Did he see me looking at myself like that? He must have thought I was an absolute weirdo for doing such a thing! 

Helen reappeared, a yawning Tony following in behind her."Right, this shouldn't take too long-" 

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this right now." I blurted out."I’m really tired and I want to make sure that the results are accurate." 

They were taken back by my snappy tone, slowly nodding as I refrained from bolting out of the room. Brushing past them, my hands instantly wrapped around my torso, making a beeline towards the elevator. My breaths were sort and sharp as I hit the button, fingers poking into my sides as I crossed them again. Why wasn’t I toned? Why was I able to grab so much skin? Once I was out of the elevator, I picked up the pace towards my room, resisting slamming the door to not gain any more attention. Grabbing the throw at the end of my bed, I threw it over the mirror, making sure I could not see any part of myself before I collapsed onto my bed, covering myself with the bed sheets.

Silent sobs ran through me as I gripped onto the sheets that were bunched up around me. I hated my mind, I hated how I looked, I hated how I could never be at peace with how I looked. Sleep would come to me late tonight, but only once I exhausted myself from crying. And I hoped that I would not dream tonight. 

Waking up, I felt how dry my moth and lips were, and also where the tears had stained my cheeks, as well as my pillow. My neck was aching from the position I had fallen asleep in, it felt worse as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. Rubbing my eyes, I coughed to clear my throat, definitely needing water after I felt how hoarse it was. Although it would have been so much easier to stay holed up in my room all day, avoid questions from everyone (even making small talk could reveal how I was really feeling), staying here would cause more fuss than needed.

"Good morning Miss (Y/L/N)." Vision greeted as I walked the halls.

"Morning." I mustered up the best smile.

"I hope I am not coming across as rude or interfering, but are you alright?"

I nodded, hiding my panic."Yeah, just a little tired from the mission. And I think overwhelmed, it's been my longest one yet."

"That is understandable. Though I am sure the experience will serve you well in future missions, especially with your stamina."

"Yep, hopefully."

Vision hadn't done anything wrong, he was being a good friend. But my mind wondered whether anything had been said about me. Did I look bad? Did I look exhausted? Why did he mention stamina? He could have just left that part out. I engaged with more small talk as we made our way down to the kitchen (Vision liked to be part of an everyday routine), though part of me wished that I was alone again.

"Ah, morning Mr Barnes." Vision said as we walked in, and I instantly cringed.

"Morning." Bucky mumbled, sending a small smile our way, but I quickly looked elsewhere. He was finishing a bowl of cereal as he sat at the kitchen island.

"Miss (Y/L/N), could I tempt you with a fully cooked breakfast? Something that is full of nutrition but still quite enjoyable? I believe it would help with your recovery." Vision offered.

"Oh, that's very kind Vis." I quietly said."But I'll just stick to coffee for now."

"You sure? I wouldn't pass up that opportunity." Bucky added.

I could only muster,"Mhm." before focusing on the coffee machine in front of me.

"Well, the offer stands if you wish for it." Vision said, and I could tell I had upset him.

He said his goodbyes to us as he left, leaving me alone with Bucky. Keeping my back to him, I played with the end of my sleeves, coming up with normal answers that I could say if Bucky started asking questions. I knew that even with backup answers, I wouldn't be able to speak properly to him, my mind would go blank.

"You should have something to eat really. At least an apple or something." Bucky said.

"I'll have one once I've woken up more. Don't feel like eating just yet, think I'm overtired."

"Just make sure you're looking after yourself."

I poured out the coffee into a mug, prepared to leave when I caught Bucky looking at me. My demeanour became smaller, shy, more withdrawn.

"What were you doing the other day? In the lab?"

"I...was testing out a new gadget Tony and Dr Cho created for me."

"(Y/N), I don't want to make assumptions-"

"Then believe what I say. Why would I be lying?"

He looked shocked."I didn't say anything like that."

My eyes cast down, panic setting into my mind, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Forgetting about my coffee, I gave myself no other choice than to run away from any confrontation. I thought that would be the end of it, it usually was, but I heard footsteps behind me, heavy ones, belonging to Bucky. At first, I kept going, hoping he was just going to call out to me before giving up, but again, I was wrong. 

“(Y/N), please!” Bucky pleaded.

Not knowing where to go made me falter, it was only for a split second, that was enough time for Bucky to open a door and drag me inside. Breaking away from him, I sighed when I realised we were in an old conference room; it was empty now, no furniture or screens, it was currently being upgraded and renovated. However, that also meant no one would have any intention of walking in, meaning we were very likely to not be interrupted. 

“Bucky, I don’t want to talk about this.” I rushed out.

“So there is something wrong!” he exclaimed, but kept his tone calm.

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“You’re my friend, my teammate (Y/N), I care about you.”

“Fine! You want to know what’s wrong? I’m surrounded by images of strong, fit people, who I work just as hard as, yet I never look like them! I train and train and train, but for some cruel reason, my body never changes. Sure, I’ve slimmed down slightly since I arrived here, but it’s not enough for me. I’ve been called a superhero, I fight alongside all of you with your slim physiques, huge muscles and beautiful faces; so when I see a picture, or news footage of us fighting, I look like the odd one out, the huge odd one out. I don’t look right standing beside any of you, even an agent from S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. His mouth was slightly open, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed as he continued staring at me. I scoffed, facing away from him.

“Now you’re seeing it. Or at least your thoughts about me are confirmed. I understand. I know you guys are my friends, you don’t care what I look like. But you must look at me in the line up and think I look out of place.”

“(Y/N), I could never look at you, or think of you in that way.”

“You don’t have to pity me-”

“I’m not. (Y/N), you don’t realise how beautiful you are.”

I glanced over my shoulder, shocked by his sentence.“Don’t do this to make me feel better, because it doesn’t work.”

He took a step closer to me.“How long have you been holding this in for?”

“I’m a woman who’s been bigger than everyone else around me my entire life, and I also have powers which made me a freak before people realised I could save them. So, basically my whole life.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would anyone in my position want to speak up about this? You didn’t say anything when your nightmares came back.”

I saw that throw him off.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I didn’t mean to...to mention it, or-”

“No, you’re right. I know what it feels like to keep something to yourself. You don’t want to burden anyone around you, especially the ones you love. You think it’s not that important, that you can handle it by yourself, or you can ignore it until it goes away. But that’s not the right way to handle things. I can see that, looking back on everything.”

“But your nightmares were worth talking about. They scarred you, reminded you of that awful past. I’m a stupid girl crying over weight that can easily be shifted if I just work harder.”

“You would work yourself to death if you did that. (Y/N), I see you everyday training hard, making sure your powers are being improved everyday, going over tactics you can use by yourself or with the team. Everyday you ensure you are at your best because you want to help people out there that can’t defend themselves. If people judge you on how you look instead of your actions, they’re not even worth thinking about.”

Letting my arms drop to my sides, I faced Bucky, gathering enough courage to look him in the eyes.“Thanks Bucky.”

“(Y/N) I mean it. I’m not saying this to just be nice. You matter to me.”

“I know-”

“No, you don’t. I...I really like you (Y/N). And I know you may not see me in the same way, but you’re such a caring, powerful and hard working person. We come back from a mission, and you could be carried out on a stretcher but you still keep positive and make sure everyone else is safe before yourself. I’m telling you this because...well it just feels right. I’m also not making this up because you need validation from a man to make you feel better about yourself. You should be able to look at yourself in the mirror and love what you see, no matter what you look like.”

My chin was trembling as my lips pursed, trying to hold back my tears. Shaky breath escaped my nostrils, and as Bucky kept looking at me with those nurturing, safe eyes, I broke. No one had ever said something like that to me. I could tell he meant it. He wouldn’t be putting all this effort into this if he just wanted to be a good friend.

“Do...do you really mean it?” my voice wobbled.

He smiled.“Yes.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around me tenderly, pulling me into his chest. Surprisingly, my instincts made me quickly copy, gripping onto his t-shirt as I started sobbing. My mind was confused. One minute I was absolutely hating myself, then I had covered up my sadness, panicking because someone was about to see me break, and here I was, letting it all out in front of him. But I didn’t feel embarrassed like I thought I would. It felt amazing to feel that dragging weight on my shoulders suddenly lift away, the comfort of someone else was welcoming. 

“Th-thank you Bucky.” I sniffed.“I’ve always thought that I need to keep this sort of thing to myself. I’ve been terrified to even be sad, even though I know it’s OK to be sad, but for some reason, my mind would never let me. It’s been building up inside of me, I’ve never been able to express myself properly.”

“We’re here for you, I’m here for you. I’ll always be here to listen...and you tell you how beautiful you are every time I see you.”

I giggled as I pulled away, wiping my cheeks.“You don’t have to do that.”

“I do. I want to.”

“Thank you Bucky, I really appreciate your help.”

He kissed my forehead.“I’ll always be here.”