#i also hate anything that tastes like coffee

[charliethinks]

hello user charliethinks, what is your go-to Starbucks order?

why hello user whyissquid, my go to starbucks order is probably a strawberry frappuccino or white hot chocolate with vanilla and caramel.

[catocappuccino]

It's been a year since I redrew that one Snorkmimi render...

So yeah I did it again ofc I would, why oh why wouldn't I? Tee hee silly meee

Attaching the 2023 redraw and og cause- uh- I donno, because yes, why not!!!

[bunnihearted]

📖🖊❄️

[belladonnafleur]

oooo i ate a waffle first thing in the morning and it was so disappointing oooo

[luveline]

do you have anything more from office frenemies with james? i just read it and i loved it so much

yes! love u ty

—you and James don’t get along until you kind of, sort of do. fem!reader, 1.5k

James listens to the most obnoxious playlist in the mornings. There’s about a fifteen minute window between when he arrives and when the workday officially starts, which coincides exactly with your window. He often gets the same elevator ride, walks a pace beside you, and decides whether he’s going to let the ‘lady’ go first through the door depending on the day. 

That morning, he’d opened the door widely, grinned at you with music blaring loud enough to make a normal person deaf from his earphones, and let you pass. Then he pretended to stick his foot out to trip you up, pulling it back at the last second. 

Jerk, you think, angry even now as he tucks himself into his desk, his earphones still ridiculously loud. He actually, genuinely, is going to get hearing damage. You’re not being bitter. Human ears aren’t meant for that. 

You click onto the workplace Outlook and open a tab on your desktop. How loudly can you listen to music? you google. A few articles appear straight away that fit your purpose —you drag them each into an empty email. Then, smiling to yourself, you find an article on the negative effects of workplace noise pollution and how this sort of selfishness can affect your coworkers’ mental health and add that at the very top. 

To: jamesp@outlook.wpa.uk 

Hi James, 

please find attached a few articles I felt might be important for you to read.

Worst, 

Your unhappy adjacent desk. 

You know he’s received it when he laughs loudly, turning down his music with a few quick clicks on his phone. 

An email comes through to your inbox shortly after.

Hi bestie, 

I’m so so sorry for the noise. Please find attached a few articles I, in turn, felt you might enjoy. 

Best, 

James Potter :) 

He’s attached an irksome variation of articles. Why music can help you get ready for the day. Ten ways workplace friendships are important. Can you really find your soulmate at work? 

You open your personal messaging system. You tend not to use it with James, but this morning he’s winding you up. 

I could report you to HR for that last one, you send. 

He replies quickly. You try very hard not to look up at him from over your desktop. I didn’t mean me. 

You’ll be deaf by thirty. 

Jealous you don’t have such great taste in music? 

Jealous of everyone in the annex. 

Want a cup of coffee?

You meet his gaze finally over the computer, find him already looking at you. You shake your head scornfully. In what world would you ever want him to make you a coffee? He’s never actually offered to make you one before, to be fair, but he’s awful to you so what are you supposed to think? He’ll probably poison it. 

He stands to leave. Remus, the other accountant to complete your trio, arrives while he’s gone with his boyfriend Sirius in tow. They’re also James’ best friends, unfortunately. It makes for some awkwardness. 

“Where is he?” Remus asks you, in the midst of a quick goodbye kiss before Sirius makes his way to his desk further down the office. 

You nibble your lip and give a dispassionate shrug. You hate talking about James. You hate his stupid mess of hair, his reading glasses, his lips when he smiles crookedly and worse when he’s glaring at you. You hate the way he sighs as he clicks his neck, the quick lap he does every other hour complaining of tired legs, the genuine tenderness he shows you whenever you’re sick. You hate James. You don't like to think about him too much lest you get caught, a fish in a net.

Or a fish with a painful hook in its lip. 

“Ah, you’re here,” James says, two cups of coffee in his hand. 

You’re only a little heartbroken when he puts one on his desk and one on Remus’. Didn’t want one anyways. 

Remus grins as James comes up behind him for a rough hug and hair ruffle. “How was last night?” 

“I wish you’d come. Sirius spent all night trying to out drink Marl, you know he can’t, so I spent all night holding his hair out of his face. I wasn’t gonna talk to him this morning, but he was being very pathetic.” 

James laughs. You pretend you aren’t listening to them, pretend you don’t feel left out even if they have no reason to be your friend, clicking at random things on your screen and scrolling through spreadsheets long finished and filed. “You know I couldn’t come, Moony,” —no point starting on their awful nicknames— “what if she needed me?” 

You still. She? 

“James, there’s not much you can do,” Remus says gently. He’s a quiet, soft sort of man, but they’re all so loud about loving one another. “You have to let her… you know.” 

You feel them both looking at you, your gaze steadfast on your screen. 

“Try not to think about it,” Remus says. 

“I’ve been distracting myself,” James agrees. 

Oh, you think. Oh. I’m such a dick. 

“You could go home?” Remus says, putting his face in his hand. “I could cover you.” 

“It’s too much work.” 

“I know, but, you know, I’ll do half, and you’ll only have half to catch up on when you come back.” 

You’re not sure who she is, and you very much still don’t like James Potter, but you're not heartless. He sounds awfully upset, fragility to his voice and a foreign balling of his fist by his hip. “Um,” you say, clearing your throat weakly, “well, with me and Remus, we could cover for you.” 

James’ face is unreadable, looking down at you. “You’d cover for me?” he asks. 

“Your work isn’t exactly hard, James.” 

“But you’d do it?” 

“How long will you be off for?” 

James frowns. “Like, two days?” he says quietly. 

“That’s fine. We can do that,” you say, checking with Remus from around James hip. “Yeah?” 

“Of course,” Remus says quickly. 

James looks at you long and hard. “You’re not kidding?” 

“No, James. Not kidding. You’d do the same for me, right?” 

James leans down to hug you before you can stop him. His arms wrap around your shoulders, a perfectly amicable touch made up of sleeper muscle and the attractive smell of almond oil, nearly sweet, slightly woody. He laughs against your cheek as he pulls away, turning back to Remus for a similar hug. “Thank you. I’ll go tell Danny right now.” He beams at you. His relief is thick as honey, palpable in his warm tone. “Thank you.” 

You can’t look at him very long. 

The memory of his fingers linger, the weight of his arm behind your head. He excuses himself to go talk to your boss, and you and Remus sit in a semi-awkward silence, of which you’re wholly responsible. 

“His cat is dying,” Remus says eventually.

You wince. “Oh, no, really?” you ask. 

“He’s had her since we were kids. It’s really nice of you to do this.”

“I really do think he’d do it for me,” you interrupt. “I’m not, you know, cruel, because we don’t get on.” 

“I know. James knows that too.” 

You want to get defensive. Why does it matter if James knows? But Remus is too nice to argue with, and secretly, strangely, you’d wanted James to know you aren’t mean. You wouldn’t have sent him that email this morning if you’d known, and maybe this is apology enough for that. 

Still, it doesn’t feel right when James returns, gathering his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “Thank you guys, so much. I will bring you the most amazing desserts of all time as a thank you. I won’t even put your mug on the top shelf the next time I wash it,” James promises you. 

You bat aside the rage of knowing he’s the culprit and instead get out of your seat before he can leave. “Uh, James?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?” 

You look at the floor by his shoes. “About earlier…”

James stands subtly between you and the bulk of the office. “You okay?” 

“I just– I’m sorry for complaining about your earphones. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.” 

“You weren’t insensitive,” he says, “I was being obnoxious. Don’t worry about it, okay?” 

“I–” You hate yourself for all your stammering. “Hope whatever is wrong, that you’re okay. I’ll cover for you for the week if you need me to.” 

“Please stop feeling sorry for me. It looks weird on you. I much prefer you when you’re frowning, you get these super deep wrinkles in your forehead that I just love.” 

You turn away without looking up. “I’m gonna input all your sales information wrong.” 

“And I’m gonna bring you the best donut you’ve ever tasted to say thanks, sweetheart.” 

[junislqve]

ᯓ seasons — ot7

syn i used to hate it, until i found out it was your favorite thing. (1504 words)

pairs ot7 + reader | cw petnames — mlist navi

note synopsis was actually more of a prompt but err i hope you guys enjoy anyway >< also im writing this half asleep so im sorry if there are any mistakes !! everybody thank peng cause without her this wouldn’t even be here rn

LEE HEESEUNG

“why don’t you warm me up?”

heeseung never liked winter. he hated the coldness and the gloom that came with it. ever since he was young, he’d stay cooped up in his room refusing to go out and play with the snow.

even as an adult, heeseung would be more silent during the season, chattering his teeth even though he wore about a dozen coats.

well that was until he knew you. you were the complete opposite. you loved the coldness and the festive feeling of winter. finding the beauty in the falling snowflakes.

ever since heeseung started dating you, your love for winter created a small fondness in him. he loves it when he gets to see your pretty smile and your nose red-tinted from the cold.

he loves it most when you both would take the train back after a day out and you would fall asleep on his shoulder, hands tucked on his to keep yourself warm.

PARK JONGSEONG

jay had never really been picky with anything. having being the cook back at home and even now cooking for you made him accustom to people’s likes.

one thing, however, that never had he enjoyed was caffeine. he hated the bitter aftertaste of it. the smell that always lingers.

but when you once bought him an americano back when you both were still friends, he downed the whole thing. making you laugh, he liked hearing your laugh, it was addicting. he saw how you were savoring the taste after every sip. thinking that if you liked it, it shouldn’t be that bad.

and now, every morning before you woke up, he’d add coffee-brewing to his routine. making both of you coffee before heading for work. but really, he just loved seeing you hum in delight after a sip, a small smile on your lips.

“you’re so good at this, babe” you say, complimenting his brewing skill.

“why don’t you give me a kiss for it then”

SIM JAEYUN

you loved musicals. from hamilton to phantom of the opera, you’ve always loved watching them if they played in theaters near you.

jake, however, would rather spend his time playing soccer or watching a movie at the comfort of his home. he didn’t find musicals interesting, refusing whenever his friends offered to go watch one together.

however, when you offered, he found himself sitting near front seats in a large theatre. completely invested in the story line. he took down internal notes in his head knowing you’d start talking about it the moment you both walked out the theatre, just so he could give his own perspective in case you asked.

he would listen to you talk all day if it meant having to watch musicals often. asking you to repeat things to see your smile grow. his eyes linger on you, observing the pretty smile you have and the excited glint in your eyes as you talked away.

“wait, can you explain again about what happened to her in the end?”

PARK SUNGHOON

possibly the biggest hater of mint chocolate chip ice cream, sunghoon would not get near it. if he had a choice, he’d rather choose something more simple like vanilla.

but all in all, sunghoon never really liked ice cream. he doesn’t understand the enjoyment people get whenever they’d crave it.

apparently all it took for him to finally try the flavor he most despised was for you to (barely) beg him to hang out with you. he was too flustered when you asked him what flavor he wanted and when you asked if he wanted the same order as you did, he just nodded. barely registering what you said.

he unfortunately did not realize this until he scooped up a spoonful of the ice cream and tasted the familiar, yet, unfavorable taste. however, after much thought and probably the sweet smile you were giving him, he concluded that it didn’t taste as bad as he thought it would.

after dating, sunghoon would often pick up ice cream for you two after a long week, eating it together while huddled up watching a movie in your living room.

the taste of it was always there, but he understood why you adored the flavor. it growing on him more than he’d expected, especially when you’re the one he’s eating it with.

KIM SUNOO

being alone creeps him out. he gets terrified if he was ever left home alone. that’s one of the reasons why he loved going out.

he finds it comforting being surrounded by people, chatting along with anyone and everyone, catching up with them.

before you were in his life, he felt like being alone further makes him feel unwanted. busying himself with anything if, in a case, he were to be left alone.

when you did come into his life, though, it was like you rearranged the meaning of being alone. you love the peace and quiet of being alone. the silence that seems to fill the room letting you breath for a moment.

technically, he still didn’t really like being alone. sometimes, he’d call you to his apartment to ‘be alone’ with you. none of you speaking any words to each other, just laying down and listening to each other’s breathing. so many words unsaid but the feelings able to be conveyed through gestures.

you’d taught him how to enjoy the quietness. he finds that when he’s alone he felt more calm and centered. still, as a person who loves talking, he would always prefer being with people.

but, you redefined the meaning of being alone and he loves you for it. he loves the way you look happy and at peace all the time, he loves it when you both be alone together.

YANG JUNGWON

“babe, can you get my socks pretty please?”

as a person who gets cold easily, you love bundling yourself up before sleeping. your necessities were your 2 blankets, a pillow for your side and socks.

jungwon always found it iffy to wear socks in bed. even if he were to buy new ones to wear only in his house, he still wouldn’t like the feeling of it.

that was until he was introduced to you by a mutual friend. when you two started talking, he found your many quirks adorable.

however, one that he only found out when you started dating, was that you loved wearing socks to sleep. his horror back then showed on his face when you asked him if he were okay.

overtime, you gradually convinced him. especially if it was winter and the coldness would go up by twice the usual weather. being used to your routine, he didn’t even realize he started wearing socks to bed until you pointed it out when he was sleeping over.

the realization he had was baffling, but as he accustomed to it he didn’t find it weird at all. he would start buying you both matching socks when he was out and was thinking of you.

NISHIMURA RIKI

“let’s get back to bed, love”

everyone knows riki is not a morning person. he hated waking up early more than anyone. it’s not weird to find him coming out of his room at 1 pm.

by 1pm, you’ve probably already went to a cafe, had breakfast, catches up with a friend, and had a 2-hour lecture.

when you got involved with riki, you tried your hardest to wake him up early. his friends had told you to give up many times saying they’ve tried over and over again.

but miraculously, on your 7th try, he woke up. although, grumbling, he started sitting up and asking what you were doing at his dorms.

the first time you tried you were just there to drop off some food to your big brother. but when you knocked and no one answered, you were about to leave. until one of his dorm mates opened the door to let you in.

they were all stood crowded in front of his room, shouting at him to wake up, but he never moved. still sound asleep after a whole debate session ensued in the dorms.

after your brother and his friends collectively decide to leave him alone instead of trying to wake him up, you put it upon yourself to try as well. little did you know, he’d heard all your wake up calls, just too afraid to face you, seeing his bedhead and all.

7th times the charm however, when he finally braved himself to wake up and reply to you, although his heart pounding abnormally when you smiled at him.

when you two started dating, he couldn’t not wake up before you. much more aware of his surroundings when he’s around you.

riki however is riki. if he were to wake up earlier, then you would also have to wake up later sometimes because of him. deciding to stay in for a bit longer when he asks to, surrounded by his warmth.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[teddybeartoji]

obsessed with the idea of satoru flustering suguru by accident all the time.

it happens more than the dark haired man would like to admit. he feels a bit embarrassed whenever satoru manages to get such a reaction out of him – he's used to being the one conjuring the prettiest blushes on satoru's cheeks but now he's the one that has to turn his face away in order to hide the growing tint splayed across his cheekbones.

and it happens because of the smallest things too! satoru isn't even doing anything crazy – suguru's hair was in his face, so the blue eyed prince just casually bruhed it away behind his ear. like a good friend! nothing special. satoru didn't even blink an eye at that, he did it so casually – didn't even stop rambling about the new manga he's been reading.

suguru is starting to hate his own eyelashes, too. that's supposed to be his move! to take it from satoru's cheek and make him blow it away with a smug little smile. so why is his heart racing when satoru does the same thing to him? suguru can't even tell what would be worse – satoru being cocky about it or him being completely oblivious to the way suguru breath hitches when satoru's slender fingers graze against his cheek. maybe he does wish he'd be more smug about it... that way suguru would be able to tell whether he's messing around or not. he hates feeling like this. like satoru has the upper hand.

(satoru isn't even aware that he has the said 'upper hand'.)

suguru also has a hard time when satoru is staying over. which happens a lot. satoru is touchy, he always has been and suguru has never had anything against that – hell, he's like that too! but now that he's been... feeling things - it's getting more and more difficult to focus on anything else whenever satoru's touching him. a lanky arm around his shoulder, a white mop of hair on his lap. a taller body pressing up against his back. thighs brushing against each other. hands touching. by accident, by accident, by accident. it doesn't mean anything – they're just friends!

(right?)

satoru even borrows his clothes. and suguru thinks he's about to faint every time he sees him in them. skin still damp from the shower, happy trail peeking from under the hem of the shirt (it's a bit short on satoru. he doesn't mind though.), sweats hanging low on his waist – satoru ruffles his wet hair as he walks into the kitchen and suguru can't help but stare at the way his muscles contract with every move he makes.

"no wonder you always smell so good, sugu! i was really thinking about eating the shampoo, heh."

this is ridiculous!!!!!!!!!!!!! his heart is doing the thing again.

wiping a hand over his face, suguru tries to drown out the butterflies in the pits of his stomach. he takes a sip of his coffee while satoru takes a seat across him and oh, no it just keeps getting worse. of course, suguru already made him his sweet little drink aswell and he now has to suffer through the scene of watching his pretty, glossy lips curling around the edge of the mug; his eyes close ever so dreamily as he tastes suguru's love and he let's out the most beautiful hum. satoru is happy. and suguru thinks he's about to die.

suguru can't wrap his head around the effect satoru seems to have on him. shoko finds it incredibly funny. whenever they're hanging out all together, she's constantly trying to hold back her cackles because of how silly the situation is. satoru is sitting on suguru's lap – he just kinda stumbled backwards because he got so into the conversation he's having with shoko. suguru's hands hover above his waist, not knowing whether to guide him or not. so now he's 'stuck' with a giddy satoru on his lap and a blush tinting the tips of his ears.

satoru also has the tendency to steal bites from suguru's food, often straight from the fork. suguru watches his pink tongue dart out from his mouth for a mere fraction of a second before swallowing the treat. he's so close too, he always is. leaned over the table, satoru with his lips still around the fork. apparently suguru has a thing for him humming. he just can't catch a break.

satoru pulls back just enough to take his mouth of the utensil but stays in his spot over the table. elbows on the wood, he chews his– suguru's food with a big lopsided smile and twinkling eyes. and just to make things even worse for boy with the crush – satoru bumps his foot against suguru's under the table making the latter's eyes widen.

only a little! only a little! maybe he is thankful that satoru is so oblivious because this would just be outright embarrassing if he wasn't.

suguru feels it. the teasing pair of eyes.

he tears his own from the boy in front of him and he's met with shoko. oh, he hates her sometimes. (he doesn't.) her eyes are crinkling just a little in the corners as she folds her arms over her chest. her lips tug up into a very, very annoying grin and suguru wants to just sink below ground. he tries to act unphased but it clearly doesn't fucking work when shoko just keeps... staring at him. he gives her an eye-roll as the last try to seem cool but the thoughts of her teasing him fade the second satoru leans closer again, making suguru do the same instinctively.

wrong move.

satoru's hand reaches out to brush away the small crumb from the corner of suguru's lip with a laugh. he makes a joke, surely a really bad one, but it doesn't matter because suguru doesn't even hear it.

him and his stupid heart – he doesn't even have a chance. satoru's laughter tastes like bubblegum and it's weird because suguru has never been much of a sweet tooth, but now here he is. willing to eat more and more and more. he's willing to take all the teasing in the world if that means he gets to see satoru smile again.

+ miuu i love them so fucking muchh!!! this was inspired by this lovely little edit hehehe!!!

[kokokoula]

HEAR ME OUT-- i headcanon that tsukishima kei has a sweet tooth, and absolutely cannot take anything bitter, mainly because his favourite food is strawberry shortcake. so here's an idea:

"i thought you'd like coffee. it's bitter and black, just like your soul." kageyama had stated bluntly one day, and hinata nodded his head in agreement. (tsukishima retorts back about something to do with a milk obsession.) it seems like a common misconception.

you ask him to check out a new cafe that's famous for their coffee with you, and even though he hates coffee with a passion, he finds himself agreeing to it. he is convinced it's because of how excited you look.

he gets a mocha, hoping the chocolate could even out the bitterness of the espresso. he stares at the black liquid in his cup and braces himself. he takes a sip of it, and still winces at the taste. you catch the scrunched up look on his face.

"is the coffee alright?" you ask, and the concern on your face made him feel bad for disliking coffee at all.

"it's fine, i'm just not a fan of coffee." he admits, but waves it off, hoping you wouldn't worry about him. he doesn't expects you to laugh, though. he raises an eyebrow. "i assumed you were the type who likes coffee, so i brought you here thinking you'd like to try. i actually prefer anything over coffee."

oh.

he lets out a small laugh of his own. "idiot," his expression is softer than his usual cold demeanor. "it's about time we ditch this place then." you two end up getting bubble tea.

also imagine you taking a sip of his drink, from the same straw he had used, and his cheeks burn. when you ask him about it, he simply turns away and denies everything. hfjdgfhihd.

[calisturniolo]

☆ SPACE CAMP

summary. . . nick just dropped his first ever selection of lip balms and you’re favourite is the mint, which matt is also obsessed with, only on your lips though

pairing. . . soft!matt x fem!reader

warnings. . . kissing

• 11:48am

you were in matt’s bathroom getting ready for the day, while matt was sitting on the sofa with chris, on their phones with the tv playing in the background.

you finished applying your mascara, rummaging through your makeup bag looking for your favourite lip balm; space camp wellness.

your flavour of choice was frosted mint, your personal favourite.

you closed your makeup bag, checking your hair and makeup in the mirror one more time before walking out of the bathroom, putting the lip balm in the back pocket of your jeans.

“hey, morning” chris said smiling at you, looking from his phone which caused matt’s head to shoot up when he notices you he smiles at you as you reciprocated the action.

“morning chris” you say as you walk towards the fridge to get a drink.

“any of you want a drink?” you ask matt and chris.

“is there any pepsi left?” you hear chris ask.

“yeah. what about you matt, do you want anything?” you ask looking back at matt, waiting for an answer.

“just a water please, baby” he says looking over at you.

“sure” you say grabbing two waters and a pepsi.

you walks over to chris handing him his soda, which he thanks you for, you then makes yourself comfortable next to matt.

“here’s your water” you say to matt as you hand him the plastic bottle.

“thank you” he says leaning down and pressing a kiss to forehead, this gesture made a huge smile come over your face.

you grab the remote control from the coffee table that matt and chris’ feet are propped up on.

“what should we watch?” you as looking at the two boys, turning your head to see matt staring at you with a smile on his face and chris typing away on his phone.

“you can pick” chris says turning off his phone and looking at you then the tv.

“matt?” you say trying to snap him out of his trance.

“oh sorry, what did you say?” he says as his face turns red out of embarrassment from being caught staring at you.

“i asked what do you want to watch?” you asks again laughing slightly.

“oh anything, up to you” matt says.

“10 thing i hate about you?” you suggest which earns a groan from chris.

“what’s your problem with 10 things i hate about you?” you say slightly offended at chris’ reaction to the best movie in the world.

“you’ve made me watch this movie about 100 times already” chris says throwing his head back.

“well it’s gonna be 101 now just because of that reaction.” you say as you press play on the movie.

you lay your head on matt’s shoulder, his hand going straight to your hair to run his fingers through it.

by the time the movie was at the part where it’s the house party chris is already laying down sleeping.

“i can’t believe he doesn’t like 10 things i hate about you”you say looking up at matt.

“well you have made us all watch it loads of times so he might just be sick of it” matt says slightly laughing and leaning down to place a kiss on your lips.

he pulls away but furrows his eye brows.

“what?” you ask confused. matt doesn’t say anything, he just leans back in to your lips and kisses you again but more passionately. he places his hands on your face as you place one of yours on his shoulder and the other around his neck.

you pull back after a few more seconds.

“what was that about? not that i’m complaining because i enjoyed every second but you never kiss me like that in front of anyone else.” you say chuckling.

“well first of all, chris isn’t conscious right now so that doesn’t count and secondly, your lip balm.” matt says rubbing his lips together as if he had just applied lip gloss.

“what about it?” you laugh out, a little confused.

“it tastes so good, i just wanna kiss you all day.” he says with a laugh. “oh right, it’s nick’s lip balm. the mint one to be exact.” you say before leaning in and placing your lips on his again.

• 2:57pm

you and matt were driving to go get gas and some slushies since you were craving one.

while matt is in the gas station paying and getting the slushies, you pull down the sun visor and open the little mirror as you pop off the cap of your lip balm and begin applying it to your lips.

the driver door opens and matt gets in and hands you a slushy. “thank you baby” you say leaning over and pressing a kiss to matt’s lips then pulling back but matt grabs your chin and pulls you back to kiss you again.

you have a confused look plastered over your face but you then quickly realise why matt pulled you back which you then pulled away and let out a giggle.

“what?” matt asks with a smile.

“just because i know you only did that because of the lip balm.” you say as you take a sip of your slush, “possibly” matt says smirking and driving away.

• 5:39pm

you were standing at the stove cooking dinner for you and the triplets. you’re cooking pasta as you all love pasta and it was quick and easy.

you feel a pair of arms come around your waist as you finish up cooking the pasta.

“hey baby” you say leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder and placing your hands over his hands that are placed around your body.

“hey sweetheart” he says looking down at you, “what’s up?” you ask placing a kiss on his jaw.

“i just came to see what you were doing” he says as he removes his hands from your waist and turning your body around to face him.

“i’m cooking dinner, well not anymore it’s finished cooking now” you say placing your hands around his neck as his come back around your waist again.

“smells good” he says, moving his face closer to yours. you smile and close the small gap between you two and begin kissing matt.

you swipe your tongue across matt’s bottom lip, which causes matt to part his lips slightly, your tongue slips into his mouth as you begin to make out passionately.

“this damn lip balm” matt says which comes out muffled due to you two still kissing.

you smile into the kiss and matt brings his hands down to the back of your thighs and picks you up and places you on the kitchen table, standing between your legs now placing his hands on the surface behind you.

“you’re so obsessed” you attempt to say but it comes muffled just like matt’s was.

as you both continue to make out for a minute or two until chris comes along and walks into the kitchen.

“y’all are nasty. do that shit somewhere else.” chris says laughing as he plops himself onto the sofa, getting comfortable.

you’re both quick to pull apart and move away from each other. you jump down from the table and stand next to matt.

matt stands in front of you and presses a few more kisses to your lips while chris wasn’t looking.

“wear that lip balm more often” matt whispers in your ear then kissing under your ear lobe then walking over to the sofa sitting next to chris, leaving you in the kitchen with a flustered look on your face.

@calisturniolo

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P4]

[Series Link]

(Yandere × F! Reader)

[Warning: misogyny, explicit language, violence, harrassment, bodily harm]

(A/N: i see some of yall find Lukas so offputting 🎯yall not rocking with him? Why❤️What for✨️ is it his personality 💕is he vile and disgusting 🥹? do u hate him💋? Do u wanna beat his ass 🫶? )

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

He didn't expect to see a familiar face in the tight, dim, sweaty corner of Tokyo. He regretted going to this silly punk rock concert in the first place, but he did say this morning that he would go to one so he could talk to you about it. Mostly he was set on going because he wanted to try out something new, something to talk about - his peers wouldn't set foot near this underground coffee. It was unfortunate that he had no genuine interest in the music - it was loud and complicated. Unpredictable. The guitar might sound cool, but there wasn't a groove to which he could chill and bob his head or trip balls on mushroom while making out with a stranger. No trippy backdrops here - just the dim, anxiety-inducing colored stage light.

So he was there at a standing table way back, watching the crowd dance and scream. He found it strange - the hair, the makeup, the eccentric clothes. The only thing he would safely get behind was the fishnet and leather skirts that some girl really rocked. Sometimes, the girls over at the States would wear that to bars or theme nights. He liked that. He didn't like the way he feel here - half aroused, half judgemental. He would rather the tight sportwears on tanned blond surfers or yoga instructors. The ones who earned nods and hums and vile comments from his frat brothers were he to kiss and tell. Being attracted to them made him feel normal. Accepted. Approved. He wouldn't be caught dead eyeing these women.

But his friends weren't here, so he got to look. Never tell, though. Or if he did, he would say "oh, they dressed crazy", or "their eyeliner were scary", or "their piercings freak me out".

Deciding that it was time for another beer, Lukas begrudgingly went to the bar again. He felt anxious and alone, sticking out like a sore thumb. He earned quite some looks from women, but he couldn't be so sure if they liked what they see or if they could tell he was a poser who only came just to say he did it. He couldn't read their expressions, partly since he was drunk, partly because he was now considering the cultural differences, even if only for a morcel. He was made aware of it most pointedly this morning: the couple faux-pas he made with Sakamoto might have been intentional, but the guy's lack of reaction made him question how big of an insult he had put out there.

Sakamoto made him feel defensive, though Lukas decided not to dwell on it. He wasn't one to feel insecure, especially with guys like that - soft faced and soft-spoken. His big round eyes and sickly skin made him look like a woman, too. At least, Lukas would acknowledge that he was tall. But that was his only saving grace.

He wasn't explicitly aware that he was feeling more territorial over you. It wasn't about you anyway, it was by default. Even in the past, he had done these things - putting down other men to get to women. They were his wingmen, he would justify, they weren't supposed to outshine him. When it was his turn to wingman, he definitely let his brothers dog on him for days. It was common and understandable. If anything, Sakamoto should make ways for him. A girl like you wouldn't suit that guy - he was too uptight and serious. What would two high-strung people do together? You should be with someone who know what a good time is. Also, he saw something Sakamoto didn't - a glimpse of your tattoo. Those family-man wouldn't know how to deal with that. How would he take bring that up to his family? They would freak. Even his sister's "31:25" tattoo freaked his parents out, and they were already the most liberal rich family in his neighborhood.

Yeah, Sakamoto should leave you to him.

Settling in on a barstool, he ordered another beer, then repeat himself when the bartender couldn't quite make out what he was trying to say.

Lukas let his eyes scan the people sitting near him. Only a few, he noticed. It wasn't a crazy crowd to begin with.

After this beer, he'd go home.

As the bartender come back with his bottle, Lukas noticed something he didn't expect. From the crowd, you emerged, making your way toward the bar. He blinked, trying to see if he was mistaken.

No... that was definitely you.

All black from head to toes, you treaded silently like a death omen, your sleek heels clicking. Your short sleeved turtle neck and your tight pants started a heat within his chest. Your face wasn't any different, though - just the usual look. No crazy eyeliner, no bold dark lipstick. Seemed like you did not come here to impress the crowd.

You didn't notice him. Hopping onto a stool at the other end with your back facing him, you ordered something.  You knew Japanese, or just enough to get by. A lot of expats got to that point eventually.

Lukas debated on confronting you about your lies - you said you would be at dinner with a friend. Or maybe he could do that tomorrow.

He didn't peg you for such a casual liar.

Lukas hatched another plan: he could observe you, and see how deep your lies could go. Sipping on his beer, he followed your movement. You adjusted in your chair, still with that calm manner you carried yourself. Then, his eyes rested on your skin left bare by the bold backless top. You looked good, but clueless. Would you know the implications of such a shirt? The way your body moved in it... men would think you were asking for troubles. Bad men. Asshole men who didn't know they were pigs. At least he had the decency to admit that he was a pig, but he was an honest pig who respected women. He was a pig who knew to ask once, then if rejected a couple more time just to make sure, then he would leave it alone. Most pigs wouldn't know to even ask.

You sipped on your pink cocktail. That was cute. Your right now style reminded him of those ravebabes he met during spring break, but you were more subtle and quiet. Your movement were less urgent, and your clothes were less exposing. It was a nice feminine touch.

Your moment of rest didn't seem to last long. A man had chosen to sit down right next to you. This man was lanky, dressed in a very unbuttoned black button-down. He started to chatter, first in Japanese, then in English. Another sleazeball trying to test out his games. Lukas wondered when would be appropriate to interfere.

Your body language made it clear you weren't interested, but not afraid. Immediately covering your drink, you tried to turn your body away. The man seemed not to mind. If anything, his speech seemed more excited, his hands moving around like a stupid puppet. Desperate, Lukas thought, that was not a good look.

Deciding your half-finished drink wasn't safe anymore, you laid it on the bar and stepped down, trying to leave. Upon this, the man caught your wrist, forcing you to turn his way. Lukas' stomach twisted - here it was, the moment where he step it and scare off this asshole.

A loud, off-tune note shred through the music. Lukas looked at the stage. The band played on, but it seemed there was a technical issues with the guitarist.

The momentary distraction cost him his chance to intervene. When he turned his eyes back to you, he was hit with a strange scene - in a swift movement you twisted your arms around the man's and grabbed onto his forearm, forcing it down so hard he stumbled. Your face, now turned sideway during the commotion, was eerily calm when you talked. Lukas heard "Sir... I said no."

The man said something in Japanese, something that sounded bitter. Probably a curse word. Lukas jumped off his seat just as the stranger swung with his free arm to slap you across the face. The bartender seemed to have decided that whatever was going on was enough, and she rushed to you. Before she could, you clenched your idle fist and landed an uppercut so hard the harrasser let out a cartoonish "oof", his limp fingers releasing you as he stumbled backward, hitting right against the bouncer who appeared as if from the shadow.

Something in Lukas awakened in that moment. Your stone cold feature and your bruised knuckle left him slack-jawed. He stepped closer, intending to ask if you were okay. Once again, he was interrupted.

"Sir and ma'am, please explain what happened", the burly bouncer commanded. The pathetic guy excitedly tried to speak, but you only crossed your arms and watched. Your eyes was set on the sad attempt at vidication, but you were patient to let him finish his spiel.

"Is it true that you attacked this gentleman unprovoked, ma'am?"

"I apologize for the commotion, sir", your bowed, hands now hanging right atop your knees. Pulling yourself back up, you continued, "this young man seemed to have taken my rejection poorly, and he had slapped me across my face. I understand that my punch was unseemly, but I did that in an attempt to protect myself. He had gotten ahold of my arms and hit me, so I was fearing for the worst."

The bouncer's scowled, but he decided that he had heard it all. His big hand grabbed onto the stranger's wrist, and together they exited out the backdoor.

The fight definitely grabbed some attention. Lukas stood watching you look around, soaking in the side eyes. Taking in a breath, you dusted yourself off and hopped back onto a barstool. The thick, moist, cigarette-dense air fell heavy in Lukas' lungs. He felt his heart drumming, his body hot from an excitement he couldn't surpress. Something about the way you fought hit him like ecstasy.

He wondered if your punch hurts.

Lost in the unprecedented euphoria, he could only gaze at you as some women came up and asked if you were okay. You reassurred them with a familiar smile, one he had seen you wore at work. Your voice was soft again as you thanked the chirpy crowd for their concerns.

Lukas didn't say anything to you that night. He went home and let the image of you and your victorious knuckle bruises lull him to sleep.

___

"Do you need me to find out who he is?"

Yuki wasn't happy when he asked that. The sight of your bandaged hand and the medical patch on your face stirred his stomach with guilt.

"No, of course not", you shook your head, "I'm fine! Really, it was nothing."

Yuki pursed his lips. The lunch he packed himself suddenly tasted like cardboard.

He tried to make it easier by reminding himself that at least Lukas didn't push to have lunch with you today. In fact, the guy had been stoic for the entire morning. Even though you weren't around, Lukas had somehow been working on his computer silently instead of sprawling on his chair like a slacker. Perhaps you had reminded him about his attitudes at work?

If you did, Yuki was impressed that the newbie knew to listen. He didn't think that kid would be the type to do so.

"Sakamoto, please don't worry. I had fun, and your set was great."

He looked down. He knew he wasn't directly to blame, though the guilt never went away- he was well-acquainted with this sort of harrassment. Right in his childhood home he had witnessed worse. What grated him the most was the silence afterward. The way his mother's frail form would hunch, casting a bent shadow on the shoji, her hands cupping her face. He was too young and small to do anything but stand in the hallway and watch as she eventually moved, mute and rigid. He heard the folds of her clothes creasing against one another and the floorboard barely creaking under her feet.

She couldn't have fought back. She was sickly. When he grew into his middle school uniform, Yuki tried to fight on her behalf but his teenage body bounced off his father's sturdy chest. His father was a merciless man, strong like the grey stone wall surrounding their mansion. Yuki remembered the disappointment in the old man's voice as he lamented "my only son is emotional like a woman, and weak like one, too."

"I see...", he said to you, his voice weary. He didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to bring up the fact that when he saw your tug of war, he let his hand slip across the strings, messing up the song. He had planned to jump off the stage, but his lead singer had tugged on his sleeve and eyed the bouncer who was already coming your way. What was there to tell you? He couldn't say that he had almost done something. Either he did something or he did nothing. In this case, he did nothing. Yuki tried to find solace in the fact that you held your own, but he couldn't. You shouldn't have to, not right in front of a friend.

Another wave of bitterness hit him when he remembered Lukas standing there watching, hesitant to interfere, tall and awkward like an useless telephone pole. Yuki wondered if he should bring Lukas up, but he decides against it. He didn't want you to feel worse - a friend and a junior watching you getting hit, that would not brighten anyone's day. He felt sorry for you to have to deal with two cowards.

Well, if he couldn't feel better, the least he could do was to keep you from feeling worse. He had been of no help with his stupid sad face. After all, this should not be about him. Yuki shamefully put his feelings in the corner as he tried to think of something that would cheer your up.

"Hey, would you like to check out a cat cafe this weekend with me?"

Your eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's right down the street from where I live. I have been meaning to visit, but it would be awkward to go alone."

Yuki already visited. He liked their cakes and tea. Still, he saw no harm in a little white lie to make his invitation seem more natural. He would hate for you to get the idea that he felt obliged to make up for what happened. That would be a transactional spin on what was supposed to be a gesture of friendship.

"That would be so nice! I also was hoping to relax a little lately..."

The knot in his chest unraveled at that.

___

You were intimidated by Lukas' switch-up. Since morning, he was quiet. Upon seeing your bruises, he asked what happened, to which you gave a vague respond about tripping on the sidewalk. No more inappropriate attempts of flirting nor small talks - he appeared to be engrossed in the tasks you handed to him. You found it simultaneously nice and unnerving, so a part of you were glad that you were scheduled to teach until lunch. You were worried that if you were near him for too long, you wouldn't be able to resist asking him what triggered this change.

You thought of asking him to join you and Sakamoto for lunch, remembering the agreement you had made the day prior. Though, by the time you reached the lounge, he was getting ready to leave. "Please don't mind me", he said with an oddly soft smile, "I need to pick up something at the convenient store nearby. I hope you and Mr. Sakamoto have a good meal". His out of character veneered grin hit you like a brick.

By the time afternoon rolled by, Lukas occupied only a corner of your mind. You were mowing through the last days of school, teaching, writing, planning the end of year school festival. When you landed from the whirlwind and came back to the lounge for your last hour, you barely noticed the junior colleague who was still hunched over his laptop. Brushing past him, you got settled. Your tense body completely dropped its guards as you melted in your chair.

Your gaze met with a bottle of cold green tea in your cubicle. From the thin condensation, you figured it hadn't been around for long.

"Afternoon", Lukas' voice echoed from the other side of your corner, "you seemed tired. It's not much, but I hope you feel a little more refreshed drinking that."

"Mr. Lukas... it's so nice of you. I'm embarrassed to not have anything in return."

He didn't move to look at you.

"Don't mind it! You had a long day."

His tone was cool and distant, a long shot from the flirtatiousness you had to suffer so far.

"Really, thank you, Mr. Lukas. I do like this brand a lot, so this definitely made me feel better."

There was a quick pause before he spoke again: "I'm glad."

He moved at last, turning to you. You missed his gaze as you twisted open the cap and took a sip.

"If you don't mind, I would love your opinion on the powerpoints I made so far."

"Of course", you nodded, rolling your chair his way. He arched back, giving you the space to take a look

Your attention was on the mistakes he had made. You had a flaw: you were a perfectionist. Despite your lack of vocal reaction, you knew you could be critical when you saw someone take over your work incorrectly. It comes with expertise. Still, you had trained yourself to manage the uneasiness and maintain an encouraging attitude - something your close friends called "softening the blow".

You often forget, though, that your face could betray you.

"Okay, you did great so far", you said, neglecting to meet his eyes, "but I want to make some notes here. Would you mind?"

"Not at all."

For someone so surprisingly tough, you lacked an eye for details. You didn't see the look on him as he watched your hardening face and bandaged knuckle as if he was starving.

[fl4r3z]

"𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬."

(𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫?)

𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚 (ゆうた) 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Smut MDNI!!, Fingering, Afab! Reader, P in V, Blood, Vaginal Sex, Yuta eating Reader out, Yuta cumming inside, Dead body, Cannibalism, Dismembered body parts (not readers), Yuta is his own warning, Jealous! Yandere! Yuuta.

𝐀/𝐍: Now, please let me know if i missed any warnings! I tried making this days ago but got mad cause i couldn't make the text centered... Here it is!!!

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭? 𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐞𝐬.

You've been dating Yuta for over a week now. Right now, you're outside of his apartment, waiting for him to open up as you rang the door bell. He didn't know you were coming over today, nor was he prepared. You plan on making it a suprise to make it more romantic, right?

Yuta got the door and he was surprised to see you on his doorstep.

"(Name)? I thought we talked about how i was going to your apartment later in to the day?" Yuta is now looking at you with a confused look.

"Well...i got impatient because you know..! It's you we're talking about!" You said excitingly as you went inside his apartment and plopped into his couch, acting like you were home. "Sorry, did i disturb you?"

"No, of course not! I'm happy to see that you're here! " Yuta exclaims as he walks over to you. Well inside he just knows that he's so happy that you were beside him. So, so, so happy. "I was trying to catch up on my cooking skills but, eh.. i tried cooking fried egg and well.... Please don't mind the mess. "

You giggled. "Is that why it's that messy in here?" You're now looking at him slightly giggling. You weren't entirely sure what to do now that you're in his house—you were just waiting for his reponse or waiting till he gets an idea of what to do.

"Well- Yeah..you should've atleast let me knew you were going- it's embarrassing for you to see the mess i made..." He feels humiliated, who knows why? Maybe he's just so shy that even his apartment being messy leads him to a blushing mess.

You absolutely think he looks so, so cute flustered and red.— "Do you think we should...go to the cafe? It's a new one, just right across here. " Yuta asked. " And to also avoid my messy apartment! Eheh.. " It was starting to sound confusing on why he hates seeing the mess on his apartment so much. Maybe he just thinks it's humiliating? Right? WRONG.

"Great idea! Yuta you're amazing when it comes to planning! You should definitely just plan out my whole life" You laugh while trying to put your shoes on.— Yuta on the other hand, he'd definitely love planning out your whole life. He'd love you obeying all his orders. Everything. He didnt think it was a bad idea generally, he thought it was the best.

As you guys stepped outside, you both started walking through the sidewalk. "Hmm, what do you usually order in cafe's, Yuta?" You looked at him.

"Well, i like trying out different things. Usually to find out which is best, so anything sounds good!" He knew you'd offer him your favorite, he wanted to know it. So that he could pin it to his headboard and get it for you everyda—.

"You should definitely try out (favorite coffee/order)! It tastes absolutely amazing!" You said happily. He knew it, you were gonna tell him your favorite. Now he has a new favorite drink.

If you search up on the internet "people who decides with other persons decisions" you'd see a picture of Yuta if you clicked images. Yuta thinks that whatever you like, he must like. Even if he has to force himself into doing it. That's just how much he loves you!

You guys entered the cafe, and the smell of coffee filled both of yours noses. You both picked a seat, got each others orders, and you went to the cashier.

Yuta was following you with his eyes everywhere you go. Eventually, you end up into the cashier, handing over the orders.— Yuta didn't fail to notice that the cashier who was talking to you was, a guy. Now, that definitely brought up something from inside of him.

He knows why he's acting like this, and was trying to secure himself to not kill him infront of you. Of course! Who wants to see someone you love with your whole heart kill someone infront of you, right?! That would definitely ruin everything.

It's been 6 minutes. He was glaring bullets into the persons head. He's mad, especially now that he noticed that the person was hitting up on you. You eventually got back to your seat, you didn't fail to notice that Yuta was looking down at the table.

"Yuta? Are you okay? Did something happen?" You asked him, slightly tapping his shoulder.

"The guy, was he hitting up on you?" He asked, trying to contain his anger. But he probably didn't do it correctly, cause you knew he was mad.

"Yes he was, but Yuta, you don't have to worry! I rejected him and told him i already had someone..he even wrote his number on the recei-" You stopped when Yuta grabbed the receipt off your hands. Leaving you with a shocked impression.

That was what happened 2 days ago, when everything wasn't wrong yet.

In front of you, was the persons dead body. Inside of Yuta's kitchen, it was dark, only the light of the kitchen was glimming, the rest were off. His hands, legs, and arms were gone. Everything was a bloody view. It was horrifying.

Behind you was Yuta, he was giggling and speaking like all these, were normal to him. You were horrified, you were trembling.

"See (Name)....? This is what happens when someone other than me gives you attention. Have you learned..?" he was approaching you, your heart was pounding so fast. You were scared. "Please, don't be scared! I won't do anything to you!"

You were silent, not letting a single word drop. He approached you, hugging you from behind. "You love me, right? Right (Name)?"

Silence.

"Of course! D-dont hurt me..please...I promise, i love you, Yuta!" You weren't lying though, you loved Yuta. Even if he just killed someone.

"G-great! I love you too, (Name).." he started slipping the strap of your dress from your shoulders. "And, if i ever find out that you're lying..Then," he pulled a sharp knife. "I'll kill you, okay? So you better not be lying..it would be a shame to kill someone like you."

You felt cold sweat running down your neck. Just from the tone of his voice, he doesn't seem like he was lying. "Yes, i promise, i love you.."

"Then you'd let me help you prove that it's true?" He said whilst reaching for your tits, now he doesn't care if it was big or not, he would love groping it.

"... Yes."

Now you were laying on his couch, naked. He was sucking your tits like a baby who was starved. Playing with the other nipple, flicking it and squeezing it.

"Will you give me all of you?" He was on top of you, his voice was low but was loud enough for the both of you to hear. You could feel his erection as he pressed his body on you. He wanted, no, he needed to hear your response.

Your legs were in heat and you were sweating so hard.

"yes, please..just please... " You muttered into his touch.

"See, you dont need anyone else. You only need me, I'll give you everything. Everything you need." His voice was hitching.

You felt his mouth onto your neck to your lower abdomen, giving you trails of kisses. He positioned himself between your legs, raising one leg then diving his mouth into your pussy, earning a loud gasp from you.

"Holy shit, Yuu..." You throw your head back from the pleasure.

Now all his stalking ability would be used. The way he'd watch you from your window, fingering yourself, doing all sorts of things to relieve yourself. He knows everything, from how to make you overstimulated, how to make you orgasm, and on how long you'd last.

He pulls away from your pussy, his mouth and chin covered in your slick. "You taste so good, (Name).."

He rhen positioned you near the couches hand guide, earning a suprised gasp from your lips.—He then unzips his pants, pulling his aching hard dick. You couldn't help but think on how that would've fit you! It was wayyy bigger than any other you'd saw.

"Don't worry (Name).. it'll fit.. I'll make it fit." Yuta murmured. He directed his tip on the entrance of your hole, pressing it. He puts his index finger in mouth.

Yuta carefully puts his dick inside your pussy, earning a breathy moan from you.

"s'tight (Name).." He starts pulling it out, then pushes it in again, and again, and again! You swear you could feel it growing inside of you. It just felt too good.

"g'nna mold your pussy, yeah?" He sounds like his voice was about to give up. He's so painfully hard for you. "(Name) pleaseplease" you could hear him starting to moan and whimper.

You were a moaning mess, covered in sweat, and your whole body was heating. You felt like you were about to orgasm any second now. It just felt so amazing, he's rutting himself so hard and fast inside you.— You bet your insides were bruised by the next day.

"Holy shit Yuu!" You were slowly feeling your orgasm chase closely.

"g'nna cum (Name)..!" Yuta was whimpering beyond this point, he couldn't tell what was going on anymore, his brain was dead. All he could think about was ruining you and fucking you so deep that he'd cum inside and paint your walls.— "S'close" was the only thing you could hear from him.

"g'nna cum inside you, yeah? Pleaseplease let me (Name)!" Yuta begs you with a high pitched voice.

"pleasepleaseplease!" He cums inside. You were both panting, sighing, and breathing so heavily. Yuta pressed his lips onto yours, sharing saliva's.

"(Name)..could you help me hide the body..?" Yuta asked you willingly and nervous.

"What?! What if we get caught?? We're going to ja-" Yuta cuts you off.— "Don't worry about that now!" He places the body into an abnormally huge sack.

"where's the other body parts?!?" You asked him nervously and scared. — " well uhm.. " he hums.

"well?!"— "(Name),— do you remember the pie that i gave you?"

You felt yourself about to vomit.

©fl4r3z all projects belong to me.

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

crepes, english muffin with a side of sparkling water, cider, dark roast served by lewis hamilton please? wife reader trying to help lewis to get off one night where he cant sleep 🥺

watch you sleep

order up!

hi lovely thanks for the request, i have been dying to write this and i took the liberty of making your order is extra sweet, i hope that's okay <3 your requested prompts will be bolded

pairing; lewis hamilton x female wife reader

blurb; your husband wakes you late at night after being gone for months during the race season during which he realized that he can't sleep without you or your help aka needy sub lewis missed his beautiful wife.

warnings; oral fem!receiving, switch!reader cockwarming, body worship, sub!lewis, gentle sex, thigh kisses, belly bulge, riding and somnophilia kink [let me know if i missed anything]

crepes; "go back to sleep, you don't have to be awake for this sweetcheeks" english muffin; "i could die between these legs" sparkling water; gentle sex cider; body worship dark roast; sub character aka lewis and i added coffee; somnophilia kink which this story relates to and victoria sponge; "you wanna hold my hand" for some extra tooth rotting sweetness

currently playing; watch you sleep by girl in red "we're safe here under the sheets, i don't ever wanna leave, i'll watch you sleep and listen to you breathe, i don't ever wanna leave, i'll watch you sleep"

"shit" lewis cursed as he ended up knocking over a lamp before stilling, listening but when he heard nothing he sighed in relief glad to have not woken you up, he trudged into your shared home late in the evening feet heavy and body aching, all he wished for in this moment was to curl up in your arms were he belonged.

he'd been gone for months due to the race season and while you visited when you could, he still couldn't help but miss you every day, his heart aching to be home with you, during their time spent together these past months, george hated how much lewis talked about you mainly because he would never shut up no matter how hard he begged. kicking off his boots as to not risk making any more noise, lewis found himself shuffling towards your bedroom, aching to hold you close but what he found left him speechless as he leaned against the door frame merely watching you sleep peacefully, hair splayed out across the pillows in a way that reminded him of a halo, cheeks rosy from the warm air that blew in from the open window and your nightgown... oh that damn nightgown always drove him completely mad, making him feel like a man starved whenever he saw your body adorned in the light blue fabric. the soft sighs that left your parted lips made his mouth curl up in a smile, you never ceased to make him breathless. you always looked angelic no matter what you did, his own personal angel. he stood there just admiring the beauty that was his wife for the longest time and as you shifted, your leg moved causing your nightgown to rise and reveal even more skin, skin that he was dying to taste.. any air he had breathed in left his lungs and his thoughts died down, the only thing on his mind was you as he sat next your sleeping form, mattress dipping under his weight as his fingers grazed up the skin of your thigh, stopping just below the hem of your nightgown, he smiled at the thought that came to his mind then. moving to lay on his stomach between your legs, his hands running up your thighs taking your nightgown with them until they found a home on your hips where he gently gripped in order to keep himself grounded and not loose his mind at his discovery of you going to bed commando. and while he was glad that there was one less layer between him and you to deal with, he also felt disappointed, he loved the way your lace panties hugged your curves and the way you squeaked when he snapped the band against the skin of your firm ass but most of all he loved tracing the hemline of them until you were begging him to do something, anything. he nuzzled against the skin of your thigh taking in the way you smelled; like strawberries and vanilla, he loved that smell so much that he'd even tried to take your perfume with him when he left so that he could spray it on the pillows in every hotel he stayed at so when he lay awake at night missing you, you seemed just a little bit closer than you actually were. he nuzzled more against your skin beginning to place sweet pecks to your thighs moving up, up, up until he found himself exactly where he wanted to be, his face level with your center and he couldn't stop himself from placing the softest of kisses there too, groaning at the very light taste of you on his lips "i could die between these legs" he mused to himself, pushing your legs further apart eager to taste you.

it could have been the warm breeze that had snuck through the curtains or the chirping crickets outside that woke you, you weren't completely sure as your arms stretched above your head, back arching off the mattress but then you felt it, the soft tickle against your thigh and the deep groan against your core as he licked through your folds, the taste of you sending his brain into overdrive "shit" you cursed, hands darting down to thread through his twisted braids and press against his scalp "lewis.." you mumbled, voice still hoarse from having just woken "go back to sleep, you don't need to be awake for this sweetcheeks" he murmured, his grip upon your hips tightening and the squeak that left you as he tugged you closer so that his tongue could slip inside had him chuckling against your core, sending sparks shooting up your spine "just wanted a taste, missed this sweet little pussy so much" his words warmed you, made you feel even more loved than you already knew you where and while his words couldn't be seen that way to most people, it was the way he said it that would have given his love for you away, the love he held for his angel of a wife. he hummed as your juices met his tongue the sweetness of you overwhelming, he didn't want to leave but when you pulled at his arm, his body listened, climbing over you hands pressed against the mattress either side of your head, he watched as you nibbled on your bottom lip the sight making him needier than he already was, oh how he wanted to bite that lip for himself but when your hands cupped his cheeks, lewis couldn't help but melt letting you pull him close to kiss him.

oh how he had missed this, the press of your lips against his own, the hum you made as his tongue slipped past your parted lips letting you taste yourself, the only sounds that could be heard within the four walls of your bedroom were the rustling of bed sheets and the sounds of your sloppy kiss "missed you so much sweet girl, can't sleep without you" he informed you in between the consistent kisses you continued to press against his lips, loving the taste of him on your tongue, when you pulled away the sultry look in your eyes told him everything he needed to know. rolling onto his back he brought you with him, hips slotted snugly against his own, oh how he loved this sight, his gorgeous wife straddling his lap with her nightgown pushed up around her hips and his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs, bound to leave fingertip bruises to be discovered at a later date. "you gonna let me help sweet boy, let me help you dream" you soothed him, hands pushing his shirt up his body eager to get it off and so when he pulled it over his and tossed it into the corner to be forgotten you couldn't help yourself as you leaned down to kiss across his chest "your so perfect, my sweet boy always is" you mused against his flushed skin as he moaned, unable to hold it in any longer.

the press of your lips against his skin left him feeling euphoric like he was on cloud nine "missed you so such" he hummed, fingers threading through your hair as you kissed his chest paying special attention to his tummy, you loved the feeling of the soft skin against your lips just like he did, lewis loved laying with his head snuggled against your tummy placing kisses to the soft skin every now and then just imagining what it would be like when you were pregnant.

how he'd always wanted to see you pregnant with his child, stomach round and breasts heavy with milk, oh how he would feed from you himself, he thought but was soon distracted from that delicious thought when you kissed across his waistline causing him to gasp, head slamming back against the soft pillows of your shared bed and his sudden movement caused lewis to tug at your hair a little too hard which made you wince "careful baby, you gotta be gentle with me" you giggled, god your laugh never failed to set his heart alight "i'm sorry love" he soothed, rubbing his fingers against your scalp to soothe the ache "i didn't mean to hurt you" he smiled as you hummed from the feeling of his little massage "i know my sweet, i know" you replied, moving back up his body, enjoying his facial expressions when you dipped your hand into his sweatpants to gently stroke his already painfully hard cock.

lewis couldn't believe his luck, how lucky he was to have you and how lucky you were have him "lift your hips for me sweet boy" you asked, tugging his sweatpants off his hips and down his legs, leaving him to kick them off as you once again straddled his hips feeling the tip of his cock poke against your entrance as you kneeled above him slightly and as you sank down on his cock, your pussy clenching around him, lewis pulled you down against his body, chest pressed against his with one hand gripping your hip, the other still tangled in your hair, as you rocked your hips you couldn't help but kiss the beautiful man below you, thumbs running over his cheeks as his cock dragged along your inner walls, it was a feeling you had missed, feeling him so deeply. "so fucking deep lew" you moaned.

your forehead pressed to lewis's as you panted against eachothers mouths, your hips moving faster and faster never wanting to stop. his breath was hot against your face when he jerked his hips up trying to met your thrusts only to have you push them down when you sat back up "tsk tsk tsk, your not the one in charge tonight baby boy" you scolded playfully, balancing yourself by pressing your hands against the damp skin of his chest, the only sounds heard now were the sounds of your hips slamming down against his and the hot pants and moans leaving both of your lips, a euphoric feeling zapped up your spine when lewis pushed your nightgown further up so he could press his hand against the bulge that appeared in your tummy when you rode him like this, lewis loved the sight; in fact it was one of his favorite things in the world and the feeling of him so deep inside of your pussy was one that you'd never forget.

your hum turned into a low moan as you watched him reach for you with grabby hands, eyes begging "you wanna hold my hand" and so your fingers tangled together with his own, holding his hands tight as you bounced up and down on his cock, you knew he was close when his hips starting rutting against your own.

lewis knew he was done for and so he couldn't help himself as he pulled you back down, lips locking with yours in a messy kiss, spit coating both of your faces in the process and then he groaned so deeply you almost came from the sound alone, his arm around your waist forcing your hips down and against his own as his hot cum painted your insides white, rope after rope being released, your pussy clenched around him as your body shook, a tell tale sign of you reaching your own high, juices mixing with his own.

you collapsed against lewis, listening to his erratic heartbeat as his chest rose and fell all while he held you tightly against him so that he could place kisses upon your damp forehead "i fucking love you so much" lewis murmured while his long fingers tangled in your hair, oh how you loved those fingers and the things he could do to you with them.

you kissed at his chest just above his heart "welcome home husband" you giggled which almost sent him into a frenzy once more "don't start wife" he chuckled darkly holding you closer, never wanting to let go again.

it was in this moment that the both of you knew this, right here was your forever. you weren't going to let anyone or anything change that you promised yourself, watching him doze off, cock still buried deep in your cunt growing softer with each passing minute but you couldn't care so long as your sweet boy was content and at peace, this was the perfect forever.

[luveline]

i'm missing coworker!james so much... is he doing okay?

James is poorly :( fem

James is a cruel kind of ill. Desperate to escape the dreaded ‘man flu’, he tries hard to portray the common cold. Doesn’t whine, groan or moan, simply suffers the near constant sneezing and his twinging neck without comment. 

Luckily, he has two —two! because you like him enough to be concerned! barely!— nice deskmates who ply him with tea and worry alike. 

“Did you take that antihistamine?” Remus asks. 

“I did, yeah. You watched me take it an hour ago and try as I might, I haven’t regurgitated it yet.” 

“Don’t be disgusting, he’s just worried,” you say. 

A month ago, you might’ve said it with deep, genuine ire. James annoys you and his choice of imagery is hardly workplace appropriate, but for some reason you’re good to him lately. You’re softening, and why shouldn’t you be? James is a boy worth softening for. 

He sneezes hard into a tissue in his palm and knocks the desk, sending his small crowd of figurines skittering, their light green bodies scuffed with scratches. They fall over each day. You like rearranging them. 

You also like feeding James biscuits, and pretending you don’t like him. Or maybe pretending you do. It’s hard to tell what’s real. 

“Jesus,” he says, forgetting to be demure as he drops his forehead against his closed fist. “I can’t take it much longer.” 

“You need to calm down, is all. Every time you sneeze you trigger the inflammation in your nose, which makes you more likely to sneeze again,” Remus says. He doesn’t sound particularly pitying, but he does then stand to grab James’ mug as he heads to the kitchen. 

In an office made up of mostly Brits, it’s extremely common for everyone to make one another a tea or coffee when they get one for themselves, but it’s a sweet gesture for Remus to keep James topped up nonetheless. It also provides for moments like this: you and him alone. Not awkward anymore. 

“Do you have painkillers?” he asks.

You open the drawer of your desk and offer him your pouch. “Here.” 

Inside are many things. A box of lil-lets, plasters in sterile wrappings, throat soothers, ibuprofen, a treasure trove of cures for little ailments. 

“Just, help yourself to anything you want.” 

“You’re an angel.” James unveils a shiny purple chocolate bar. “I can have Freddie?”

“Freddo,” you correct. “Come on, James, it’s on the packet.” 

He doesn’t truly want it. He doubts he could taste it, and he drops it back in. 

“Oh, no, you can have it!” you say, softer. “I’m just being pedantic.” 

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can do chocolate right now.” 

“Right, um… well, I have a sandwich?” 

“What kind of sandwich?” he asks. 

“One of those impossible BLT’s. But I can get you a proper sandwich, James. They have those sesame seed rolls in the vending machine.” 

James doesn’t understand why you’re being so nice to him. “I must look awful,” he murmurs, letting his aching, pulsing head drop onto the desk. He sniffs uselessly. Fuck, he hates work. Why can’t he go home?

“You never look awful,” you say. 

James turns his face to see you’ve lowered your own, resting your cheek in your hand, your knuckles grazing the table. 

“You’re being too nice to me. I’m dying.” 

“You’re the one who’s mean to me, James. I’m your unwilling victim.”

“As opposed to being my willing victim.” James hates being ill, his lips are dry and his throat feels sharp and he’s changed his mind, he does want the Freddo. “Please be nice to me again.” 

“You know what’s good for this? Nasal spray. That’ll fix you.” 

“You could fix me,” James says. You don’t answer. He presses his nose to the table. “My days are always good ones when you can't be bothered to pretend you don’t like me.” 

“Who says I’m pretending?” 

James whines. “That’s worse.” 

You tease a bit of his hair behind his ear. James is content to let you, content to never move again, balmed by the softness of your touch as you draw along the outline of his ear to his jaw. “Don’t press your glasses into your nose, you’ll start sneezing again,” you whisper. 

James refuses to move. “Stroke my hair,” he demands.

“No way.”

“You’re no fun.”

“But I’m having a much better day than you are.” 

He sulks. This is exactly why James hides your stuff and leaves you off of email chains you should probably be in. You’re horrible, awful, evil, with no sympathy for him and no friendliness, either. James was far better off when he was solely annoyed at you, and not whatever useless state of being this is where his mood depends on your willingness to make friends. If James could, he would—

“Are you okay?” you say, your voice as soft as your fingertip where it traces slowly through his curly hair. “Maybe you should go home and rest. I’m worried about you…” 

James might fall in love with you if you keep whispering sweet stuff like that. You hesitate at the nape of his neck before dragging your hand up through a tuft of curls. 

“If you don’t get better soon, your voice will go and I’ll have to talk to Lang and Co. on the phone again. You know I hate their finance team leader,” you finish. 

You sound so pretty that James almost misses your slight. Then decides he’ll allow it as long as you keep stroking his hair.  —

coworker james au

[endless-ineffabilities]

The Bolter (part four)

Steve Rogers x f!reader / (Bucky Barnes x f!reader)

synopsis : Steve carries out his decision to return to Peggy, aiming to live out the rest of his days with her. But this means he's leaving everything behind - he's leaving you. Did he make the right choice? Will there be anything left with you to come back to?

in this chapter : Steve realises where home is, both in 2017 and in the 1950s. The reader bolts, faced with the memory of the woman Steve cherishes. Bucky starts to find himself drawn to you.

themes/warnings : pining, unrequited love, angst

word count : 2k

masterlist ▪︎ previous chapter ▪︎ next chapter

2017, a year after the Avengers' Civil War

It had been nearly four months of the arrangement that you and Steve shared. Hiding away in some remote cabin in Alaska.

Time was running out. You both knew you had to get a move on soon, as you can't stay in one place for too long.

If only you actually stayed put, and didn't cause Steve to worry almost every other week.

He quickly realized that you came and went when you pleased. A habit you must have picked up from your profession, one that Steve was sure would drive him to madness.

He was glaring at the newspaper he picked up from the nearest town when he made a supply run.

Your name was printed in bold lettering, along with your moniker, Huntress. Wanted for conspiring against the State, it read. You had been spotted in some other city, a blurred-out CCTV snapshot of your face included on the page.

If seen, please alert your local authorities. Suspected to be in hiding with Steve Rogers, famously known as Captain America. Reward to be disclosed.

Captain America. Steve never thought there would come a time when that name would leave a bad taste in his mouth, until now. He wondered what excuse you would have this time. Which person was it that you just needed to help? What was this important thing that justified suddenly leaving without telling Steve?

Steve hated your absence, but he knew he was being a hypocrite. He admired how eager you were to help your friends. If he was in your place, he would probably do the same.

He had begun thinking of the next plan. He knew he would always be welcome in Wakanda, but he didn't want to abuse their generosity. It would subject them to intense scrunity in the international political arena and they were already doing more than enough with just taking Bucky in.

No matter the next step, wherever the location, Steve found himself thinking of you. He would always think in terms of we, not I.

Where would we go next? Where would we be safe?

You were free to go wherever you wanted, of course. The others have been roaming different corners of the world, and maybe it was even safer that way, to spread out in those circumstances.

You could choose to go alone to a different hideout, and of course he would have to accept that.

But Steve didn't want you to leave him.

Why? What was he to you? What were you to him? Steve thought of how he never had the best timing. He knew there was something there, and you had to know it too.

He felt it whenever you would smile at him as he handed you your cup of coffee. He felt it in how comfortable it was when you would both read in silence at the opposite ends of the couch in the living room. He felt it in how much you cared, in how you understood his strong tether to Bucky.

And that small cabin was the biggest testament to it all. It was absurd, how much it felt like a home to Steve.

A home, while he was being hunted down and scorned by the country whose values he so proudly stood for and represented. A place of refuge, while everything else was in shambles.

He knew it was all because of you.

If only you would be quick in coming back home.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You didn't mean to leave abruptly again, without giving any notice.

Really, you swore you didn't.

You were also lying to yourself. Because you knew it was all because of what Steve mentioned a few nights prior.

Or rather, who.

It was all going well, you thought. You were getting to know your dangerously attractive housemate quite well. So much so, that you had decided he would be the first one you'd call if you ever got into trouble or needed a shoulder to cry on.

Natasha would understand, of course. She had been in contact, updating on her whereabouts, and also checking in on her apparent ship.

"Ship? Here in the woods?" You had been visibly confused, stupidly glancing out the window as if that very ship would materialise.

"No, you idiot. Ship... relationship. A couple. All the kids are using it these days."

Oh. You debated acting oblivious but you knew that would never fly with someone like Natasha. Nothing really got past her, and you had to admit, your excitement flared up a little bit every time she hinted at something between you and Steve.

Nat was one of the shrewdest people you ever met, and she didn't have the habit of stirring things for no reason.

So you believed her, and you hoped.

In that cabin, in that isolated little bubble, Steve was really all you had and vice versa. Selfishly, you wished you never had to leave. You found yourself imagining that you were an actual couple, maybe even married. That you had chosen to live together in that place, and that circumstances did not just force you together.

That image quickly came crashing down, the curtains closing in the middle of a play. Because that was all it was - make believe.

You and Steve were sitting cross-legged in front of the fireplace one late night, your mind going haywire because his knee was pressed against yours. Your heartbeat skipping because he would pat your leg once in a while.

Maybe it was a Steve thing. Maybe it was just a gesture people make when they tell stories to their friends. But friends wouldn't lean in so close, would they?

He eagerly shared about his life in the 30s, when he was an asthmatic hundred-pound determined youngster. When he'd only ever been Steve. He kept a box of personal things that reminded him of his era, and the two of you perused through them. You smiled at the brochure from a museum exhibit that featured him and Bucky. Tried flicking on rusty old lighters. Jokingly saluted him while putting on the pins that were circulated when he was first introduced to the public as Captain America.

Your delusional self thought you noticed his focus drifting to your lips almost every time you replied to him, and that he got that look in his eyes.

But you reached in the box and picked up what looked like a compass. You pried it open, and one glance at his face told you everything.

In it was an image of Peggy Carter, you recognised. You knew all about her and her work for SHIELD. You knew her and Steve had been acquainted back in their day, but you didn't know how much.

He leaned back almost immediately, his touch no longer on you, looking like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

"Peggy Carter, right?" you offered eventually, balancing the compass in your palm. From what you can recall, she had passed recently. But clearly her ghost was still haunting Steve.

"Y-yeah," he stammered, strangely unable to look you in the eye. "I met her just before I was put to the serum, actually."

Well, that's definitely something. She knew him when he was just Steve, and she saw him. That must have left a mark.

"So... can you tell me about her?" you asked to fill the silence. To quell the barage of intrusive thoughts you had.

Steve noticed the difference in your posture, straightened back and stiff smile. You had been freely laughing moments ago, and he had been too. He wouldn't be able to remember what he said after that, distracted by the sudden coldness in your expression. He must have said something about Peggy being good at her job. About how big of an impact she made on SHIELD.

You didn't want to ask about the obvious thing, and you didn't have to. You could see it in his eyes.

You were also responding on auto-pilot. Like you were simply making small talk. The mood had changed, and you hated yourself for not looking into Steve's file with more detail. There must have been clues there about his past relationship with Peggy.

But if you had known... then what?

You would have fallen for him anyway. But at least, you would be aware that you were falling for someone who wasn't yours to keep.

Because if there ever was something, Peggy's unfading light is one you don't want to compete with.

You let the conversation go on for a few minutes more, to not arouse his suspicion, before making some excuse about being tired and needing sleep.

Hold on, you heard him plead. Maybe you can show him one of the movies you kept telling him about? The one with the Anakin character you liked?

You did your best not to cave in.

Even if all you wanted was to crumble, and kiss him hard enough that any remnants of Peggy Carter still lingering would dissipate.

When you heard that your friend Mason needed some help getting Secretary Ross off his tail, you jumped on the opportunity to leave. Even though Natasha already said she would be on it.

Of course, she saw right through you.

The task was quick and easy and soon enough, the three of you were sitting on lawn chairs in front of her cozy trailer in Norway, when Mason cheekily commented on the little arrangement you had with the Captain America.

"How do you do it?" he joked. "Being under the same roof as him, and not getting some of that? I mean, I know you're all international criminals right now, but even criminals need some loving once in a while."

"Leave her alone," Natasha quipped, pointing at him.

"We're friends," you said defensively, to which Nat raised her eyebrows at you.

"Sure, hon," she said, before taking a swig of her beer. "Shouldn't you be making your way back to him? Steve must be worried."

You shrugged, but you knew she was right. It didn't feel right being away from him like that. Running away like you were a teenager acting out.

It took you only two days to come back, with the help of one of Mason's many smuggled helicopters.

You felt his presence immediately once you stepped foot in the cabin.

Days old newspapers sprawled on the kitchen counter. Fresh coffee on the pot. The surprising but pleasant smell of baked goods coming from inside the oven.

He materialised from your periphery, wiping his hands clean on a towel. Clean-shaven once more, your eyes getting drawn to his pink lips now in clear view.

"Did you - "

"Oh, yeah," he said, gesturing towards the oven. "I tried making you something. Nat called me and said you were on your way back."

That traitor.

But then Steve added, "Welcome back," with that sheepish smile on his face, and you forgot what you were supposed to be pretending to be annoyed at Nat for.

It was comfortable, familiar, like home, when you both silently enjoyed the blueberry muffins he prepared.

You expected him to lecture you, to remind you of the dangers of running off by yourself again. But he took a gentler approach.

It felt good when he made sure you were okay, asking the same question but in three iterations. Are you okay? Did everything go well? Does anything hurt at all?

Did he know why you left so abruptly? Did he suspect anything?

Later that evening, he brought up the fact that perhaps you both should be moving on to another safe place.

You felt his eyes glued onto you, gauging your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you said, "Okay."

Steve had been practicing what to say, how to ask you, while you were away. He would suggest that you were safer together. That the two of you could go see Bucky for a time. That it was probably smarter for you to stick with someone like him - if you ever got caught, he could use himself as leverage, negotiate in order to lighten your sentence.

But all that was no longer needed, because you asked, "Where will we go?", without wavering.

We.

It turned out Steve wasn't going to lose his home, after all.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The 1950s, six months after Steve's arrival

Steve is certain that there must be something wrong with him.

Maybe he's just been in the fray for far too long, going from one fight to the next, that now he is supposed to settle and be at peace - he can't.

It disappoints him. He's frustrated with himself. He's become angry.

It's not fair. How does he still feel like a man out of time for someone who has returned back to where he supposedly came from. Back to where he belongs.

Peggy has noticed his frustration, so she suggested they head down to a local fancy restaurant once a week.

A recurring date of sorts, giving them the chance to spend one-on-one time together. They had both been busy - Peggy with SHIELD, Steve with his newfound job managing a local community centre.

His job was simple enough, definitely less demanding than what he's used to, and he's satisfied that he still gets to be of service. He's also refurbishing their home. Doing everything to keep busy.

Everything to keep you out of his mind.

But Hunter would stroll in when he would fit the new wooden panels for the back porch.

Hunter, his dog. Named so because Steve had the thought that Huntress would appreciate the tribute.

You would, but you aren't there.

He's supposed to be at peace now. He's supposed to finally feel at home.

But he wasn't called the man out of time for no reason, and he's come to accept that maybe they had been onto something.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

2024, six months after Steve's departure

Bucky's date is going well. At least he thinks so. Not that he would have much knowledge on how these things go nowadays.

His first date as himself, James Barnes, since the 1940s. Leah's a lovely girl, but it was mostly due to yours and Yori's instigating that he caved in and asked her out.

Well, he didn't really ask. You did. But Leah was kind enough to accept.

The conversation is fine, flowing smoothly, a couple beers shared between the two.

Leah asks how old he is, and he replies dryly, "106."

Bucky isn't sure she got it, but it's better this way. She doesn't need to know who he is, or what he's done. She wouldn't understand.

As they play a round of Battleship, Bucky wonders if you would be good at this game, if you would playfully stare into his eyes much like Leah is doing.

He thinks of how much he likes your eyes, and the way you look at him.

But he is 106 after all, so he's not some fool. He suspects that he might be a stand-in for his revered lost bestfriend. Do you see him, and only him, or is he partially hidden behind Steve's shadow?

Do you keep him around, because he reminds you of him?

Bucky decides he's not ready to know the answer to those questions. Not just yet.

Leah makes another move. He lets her win.

He calls you right after the date. You did say that he should tell you all about it.

"So how was it?" you eagerly ask right away, not even bothering with a hello.

Bucky finds himself smiling at your voice, pausing on the sidewalk on the way back to his apartment, "Have you played Battleship before?"

Read chapter five here ~

taglist (let me know if you wish to be added!) : @vicmc624 @littleliyah16 @babezawa @klammykayla @justsebstan @blue--ingenue @numblytemporary @bradshawass @delicious-xx @mrsevans90 @heartarianagran @tinystarfishgalaxy @kyoquixote @mochibochinochi @spngingerbread21 @zbeez-outlet @rena15 @raging-panda @marveldaydreamer

Happy TTPD release day! I just knew The Bolter would be one of my favourites!!!

The final scene is in reference to the first episode of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Lil bit of a spoiler!!!! -- We'll see them all back together in the middle of that series.

There will only two-three more chapters of jumping back and forth in time. I'm also worried I'll confuse myself with the timeline. If the months/years aren't aligned with MCU canon, please ignore it.

Also - if not in the next one, then there will definitely be smut in chapter six. But with who???? Steve or Bucky? I'll let you guys speculate... 👀

[rintoorou]

ALOHA, HAWAII — ix. old habits

(wc: 870-ish)

you’re wide awake and your head is spinning. 

you’ve been in meetings since the afternoon, only peeling away from your computer screen to refill your mug with water or tea. you were so engrossed in your work that the last bits of food you had were lunch—almost 11 hours ago. only the bar was open at this hour, but you’ll take what you can get. 

after shutting off your computer, you pocket your room keys in your sweats and step out. 

the moon casts a faint glow on your path, creating ambiguous, eerie shadows. the summer air is warm on your skin, but shivers run down your spine when you hear a twig snap from your side. gradually, you pick up your pace and clutch your keys tighter, feeling the cool metal dig into your palm. 

you continue walking for a minute until the crickets suddenly go silent. 

your shoes skid to a halt. paranoia slowly creeps up on you as you scan your surroundings, looking between the trees and in the dark corners of the street, like someone’s watching you. 

hesitantly, you take a step forward, and another, and another, still keeping your eyes trained anywhere except the pavement in front of you. your heartbeat echoes in your chest the more your imagination runs wild—a ghost? a serial killer? one of those creepy guys from the fifth floor you and kenma secretly hate? no, you can handle the last two, but not a ghost. you’re starting to regret watching incantation with kenma the night before your flight. 

you’re too lost in thought to notice the person a few feet before you, who is also completely unaware of your incoming presence. 

it only takes a couple of steps until you collide, causing a frightened scream to slip past your lips and his phone to slip from his grasp. 

“jesus, (—). are you okay?”

“suna,” you breathe out before your initial shock is overcome by frustration, “make a sound, will you?! god.” 

suna raises an eyebrow, lips twitching to hide his amusement at your spooked state. you notice, but it doesn’t seem to annoy you. he bends down to pick up his phone, his movements slow and deliberate, before he slips his hands into his pockets. curiosity laces his tone when he asks, “what are you doing out at this hour?”

you ignore the way your heart skips a beat under his gaze. “i was going to grab a snack,” you tell him, blinking more times than necessary.

“from the bar?” suna hums, humor mixed with concern.

“yes,” you assert, “from the bar.” a smile threatens to spread upon suna's lips but he holds back. why are you lying about something as small as this? 

ah, he then remembers kiyoomi mentioning that you’d be caught up in meetings at work for almost the entire day, explaining why you two didn't have to do anything regarding wedding preparations. if he knew you, he’d recall how much of a workaholic you were years ago; how easily you’d get swept up in your work trying to make it as perfect as possible, only filling your system with tea or coffee and all other sorts of caffeine. but it’s hard not to know you—not to forget—when sneaking in both of your lunches inside the study hall practically became a part of his college routine. or how he’d add two packs of dark chocolate to his basket, along with his fruit jelly sticks, when finals were approaching. or how he started filling his training bottle with the blue gatorade you liked instead of his usual purple one so that when you'd ask for a drink, he could hear you gush about how similar your tastes are. and if he knew you, he’d remember how you held your pride over even the tiniest of things, such as admitting whether you’ve had dinner or not. he remembers how adorable or frustrating your stubborn pride could get. 

all these thoughts rush into him in a second like they were his own instincts, a second skin. 

so without another thought, he suggests, “do you wanna head out instead? i heard there’s this night cafe just fifteen minutes away.”

he's hoping you’d say yes—he can admit that to himself. however, what he can’t acknowledge is that, somewhere deep down, you’re still dear to him in more ways than one. 

he sees an ounce of hesitation in your eyes, and he thinks he might have pushed a little too much. maybe you still hated him despite agreeing to keep things civil between you. 

“sure,” you tell him, a softness lingering in your eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher, “lead the way.” 

suna couldn't control the pleased smile that formed on his lips. he cocks his head to the side, motioning for you to follow him before he pulls out his phone from his pocket. perhaps it's a shame that he doesn't notice the light blush that dusts on your cheeks as you trail behind him. 

in the cafe, you sit across from suna, doing your best to appear casual. but even as he eases you into another conversation, you push back the familiar feeling you recognize a few years back. 

prev — masterlist — next

notes kind of a filler chapter (?) bc i’m torn between making this slowburn or nawt lolz but i wanted to give an insight into how their relationship was before! (the lyrics of summer, night is sooo fitting for this chap) also.. sakuatsu & sunayn parallelism kinda ??? 🫣

tags @ilyless @strxwberri-s @bbybibi @milesmoralesluvs @hanniemylovelyquokka @nbcvs @crispchocolates @cnnmairoll @trash-master-3000 @tojirin @ryuverse @megumiif @chemiru @theycallmenanamisgirl @neoclb @krissiekris @nyxlai @tsukiran @frvppe @le000xxgrd @kr1nqu @kunihaver @toges-cough-syrup @myromanempiree @baskin-robinhoods @jeongintwt @itsdragonius @moucheslove @ichcocat @miiyas @samuel1004 @reignsaway @sonicsolos @httpshoyo @walllflowerrrsss @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @wolffmaiden @diorzs @zumicho @riabriyn @hqtoge @unhinged-atrocities @t8tiana @deluluforcarlos55 @kissingkzuha @mfcherry @tamimemo @geniejunn @peehall @h3xi2g0n3 @gsyche @meguemii @savemebrazilhinata

[justalost4girl]

ONE

This fanfic is part of my Taylor Swift coded fanfics. word count: 3186

A girl walks onto the stage with a guitar in hand and a smile on her face.

She greets the band, and they greet her back. The shy girl thanks everyone for coming tonight.

Natasha Romanoff grips her glass tighter and orders another shot of whiskey without looking at the bartender, as she can't take her eyes off of you.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

One year earlier…

She finds you at the café. Natasha hates cafés, but she knows your company's head of security comes at the end of every period to get coffee with you; it's been like this for two weeks.

But today, you're alone at a table, and Natasha needs to adjust the plan. She goes to the counter and orders a cappuccino—the same as yours—and looks for a place to sit.

Your eyes meet hers, and for a moment, the redhead ignores the hot cup she's carrying.

You're beautiful

And shy.

Natasha recalls your file and smiles. You were exactly as Skye had described. She sees a chance to approach in the crowded room and clears her throat; she's done this before but feels the need to focus.

"Can I sit with you?" A soft voice pulls you out of the stupor you entered when you looked into those deep green eyes. Eyes that could inspire symphonies, and you believe she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, and your brain can't do more than nod, afraid of saying the wrong thing.

She sits beside you, not in front of you, waiting to analyze your computer. The file didn't mention the software you use, so it's up to her to find out before your friend arrives. She positions her coffee well so her field of vision can see anything that appears on the screen.

"I'm pretty sure I've seen you around here; do you live nearby?" She asks, trying to break the ice as usual, but deep down, she feels strange under your contemplative gaze.

"Yes, I live in the building across from Luthor Corp and work there." Your voice shows pride, and your eyes sparkle, Natasha notices. She wonders if you know what your colleague has been developing and the true nature of your boss.

"And you? I don't think I've seen you around here before," you seem genuinely interested. Natasha likes that. Targets are easy, but you are very easy; with just a few words, she already knows where you live and work. For a security analyst, you are far too naive.

And she puts the plan into practice.

"I just moved to the end of the block. There are so many boxes… I needed the coffee to give me energy." She says with an extremely calculated tone. You smile and notice that she has a beautiful corner smile and really seems tired, so you offer to help.

You always offer to help strangers.

And Natasha celebrates the success of the plan while taking a sip of coffee and leaning toward you, complimenting your screensaver. While you give her an excited explanation, she takes the opportunity to see the type of software used and memorizes the access password when you unlock the computer to show how the galaxy theme expands on your computer.

You exchange names.

She's Natalie. Nickname? Nat. The redhead shares similar tastes to yours, and something tells you that coming here alone was the best choice. After all, Nat would never look at you if Luke were around.

You also have a name, but everyone calls you Newton. In honor of your favorite physicist. A development assistant in the security sector with a desk always organizedly messy, in your words. Your boss, Luke, didn't come today because he had an emergency meeting and gave you the afternoon off. Natasha makes a mental note to understand this.

He didn't have any meetings scheduled.

As the coffee finishes, Nat guides you to her house. You stretch your back and even tie your hair up to help with the boxes. Then, you feel a bit disappointed to find there are only two, but you don't complain.

You never complain.

Natasha watches you help organize the books in the living room, chattering away about how you've read most of them and your opinions. You don't notice, however, that they show no signs of use, and amidst some jokes, for a minute Natasha forgets about the mission. Being with you is comfy.

"Wanna order pizza? I know a good place." You ask, sitting on her floor. Your jacket, backpack, and shoes are at the door. She liked how you took off your shoes to enter her house. It's a sign of respect, you say. The file points out the numerous k-dramas evaluated in your account, but she doesn't comment and even finds it adorable. She finds you adorable. Period.

"Sure, but only if you agree to watch something before we go and let me pay for the snack. You were my hero today." Nat smiles, and all that crosses your mind is how random your luck is. Here, sitting on this floor with the most beautiful woman you've ever met in front of you, the word destiny has a new meaning.

She gives you yoga pants and an oversized Star Wars shirt, your favorite saga, to make yourself comfortable. The pizza arrives while you're changing, and she can't use your laptop, but that loses its importance when your heart warms seeing you wear clothes she bought just for you. You feel like you're in heaven for finding someone as big a Star Wars fan as you, because that shirt was only available by order. Everything seems too perfect, you think, but the thought flies when you find out the theory of olives applies to both of you.

Natasha puts on your favorite movie from the franchise, and what was supposed to be just one movie becomes a marathon. She knows all the lines and jokes from each movie, knows curiosities and book details, and that makes you ignore your phone all night.

That night, you fall asleep on the couch.

The sun hits the window, and the redhead opens her eyes and sees you. Your arms are by your side, but Natasha is practically in your lap. Even in a deep sleep, you respect her too much to touch her.

Natasha is distracted for a moment and wonders how much of a spy she was last night. Here and now, looking at your lips in a half smile and your messy hair. Natasha almost feels bad for getting into this mission.

Almost.

She shakes her head and carefully gets off the couch and goes to your backpack, finding a black-covered book and the laptop. The goal? Install a spy program on the laptop. The problem? Natasha's curiosity gets the best of her, and she opens the book.

Your song lyrics, drawing attempts, and poems are a world for her to explore, and only after ten minutes, Natasha remembers the mission. She plugs in a device, pockets it, and waits for the installation, but when the progress bar is only halfway, your alarm goes off, and Natasha has to improvise.

Two minutes until the program is complete.

"Hello there," she says, smiling softly, throwing herself on top of you.

"Ah, now you're Obi-Wan? I thought you were Jar Jar Binks," you say, rubbing your eye and laughing at her offended expression.

Natasha rolls her eyes and starts a tickle war. You squirm, and she lets herself spin on the couch, ending up underneath you.

"Okay, okay, truce. You're not Jar Jar. You're the face anyone would turn to the dark side for," you say, feeling an unexpected courage.

"Does that go for you, Newton?" Natasha says softly, her eyes fixed on yours, her gaze alternating between your lips and your eyes in an almost hypnotizing manner.

"That goes for me, Nat," you whisper, looking at her lips.

You're not sure who initiated the kiss first, but you like to think it was both. The world seems to stop as your lips meet, each touch filled with emotions and suppressed desires. For you, it's a moment of pure magic and connection, an unexpected paradise. For Natasha, it's a reminder of what she could lose, a conflict between duty and desire.

The day passes slowly. She drags you from the couch to the kitchen for coffee and then back to the couch for a make-out session. Natasha has a dominant and bossy streak, and you feel comfortable and safe beside her, as her hands don’t cross any boundaries and remain on your waist. You try a new recipe, talk about the weather, exchange compliments and kisses. The afternoon arrives, and Luke calls you to the office.

You decide to stop by home first but manage to take one of Natasha's limited edition sweatshirts as a promise to meet again soon.

Natasha leaves you at the door smiling like she hasn't in a long time. All for the mission, of course. At least that's what she wants to believe.

She doesn't realize she forgot to send the report to Fury.

You don't realize your laptop is on in the backpack.

Nat is different from any woman you've ever met.

Not that you've met many.

No, but Nat is different. She's kind. She's everything you could ask for in a person. Nat is too good to be true.

"Newton is smiling today?" Luke says, approaching your desk.

"I found my soulmate at the café yesterday," you say, eyes sparkling.

"Really? What's she like?" he asks, placing some files on your desk.

You describe everything, from her appearance to shared tastes, and he smiles like he does with clients.

"Send me the code by 5 p.m., then you can go see your future wife," he says, typing something on his phone and leaving.

You smile and grab your laptop. It's almost dead and turned on. You find it strange but don't question it; after all, the computer is still locked. The memory of Nat's eyes brings you more inspiration, and you jot down about the new shade of green where you found peace.

The afternoon passes in a blur, the leaves fall, and you finally finish the code. Luke is nowhere to be found, something about an urgent meeting, and you decide to send the code by email.

Natasha is at home, with full access to your computer, celebrating the success of the plan. The virus will accompany the file. Luke will open it on the corporate computer, and she can finish the mission. She watches you through the camera, and Natasha misses you for a moment. You are a beautiful collateral damage. Too kind. Too captivating.

She knows it's wrong, but she lets the idea linger in her mind for more than a minute.

Natasha sighed as she shut down the laptop, feeling the weight of the decision she had made. She glanced at the phone screen, hesitant for a moment before typing a quick message to Newton.

"Miss you, come over?" she typed, her fingers hesitating over the keys. It was the first time in a long time that she allowed herself to be true.

"On my way, General Romanoff," you reply, making your usual path with a smile on your face.

☆。*。☆。 Eight months earlier…

One night, as the soft moonlight filtered through the curtains, you were sitting on the couch beside Natasha. She was flipping through your lyric notebook, and after much persuasion, she managed to convince you to sing one of your songs. With a shy smile, your voice filled the room, bringing life to the carefully crafted words.

Natasha watched you with admiration, her eyes sparkling with each note. When you finished, she applauded enthusiastically.

"You have an incredible voice, you know? You should leave this field and sing in a bar. Become famous and rich," Natasha suggested, excitement gleaming in her eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Maybe someday. But if I do, will you promise to be there?"

Natasha took your hand and looked directly into your eyes. "I wouldn't miss any of your shows for anything in this world," she said sincerely.

Later that night, after waking from a nightmare and seeing Natasha, who was now lying on her side, her hair spread across the pillow, you took a deep breath.

Focusing on the woman beside you, you felt a mix of tenderness and curiosity as you admired the peace on her face. Her gentle features seemed even kinder in the quiet of the moment.

Natasha breathed calmly in peaceful sleep, immersed in a world of tranquility that contrasted with the turmoil of your own thoughts.

For a moment, you wondered about the thoughts Natasha kept, about what she dreamed and what made her smile in the silence of that rest. There was something intriguing about the way she moved in the world, near you, an aura of mystery and serenity that deeply attracted you.

You were in love; you felt it intensely and quickly. And for the first time in your life, you felt that this love was mutual. You lay down beside her, lightly touching Natasha's lips with a kiss. She slowly opened her eyes, meeting yours with a gentle shine of surprise and care.

"Nat," you started, feeling your heart racing with emotion overflowing in your words. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

A radiant smile formed on her lips, her eyes reflecting tenderness and joy. She nodded slightly, without saying a word, but making it clear that her answer was yes.

☆。*。☆。 Six months earlier…

You walked out of the office with firm steps, Luke by your side. For the first time in months, he mentioned it was for security measures, and you didn't mind, too excited to introduce your oldest friend to your girlfriend. The usual café was just a few meters away, and Natasha, watching from afar, noticed the smile on Newton's face as she entered the establishment.

"Hello there!" You exclaimed eagerly upon seeing Natasha, who smiled back warmly as she greeted you. "You're here! I missed you," Natasha said, warmly embracing you. She caught the familiar scent of Newton and momentarily lost herself in the comforting sensation.

"Yes, and accompanied this time. Nat, this is Luke. Luke, this is Natalie," you introduced them, your eyes shining with affection for Nat, your girlfriend.

"Natalie! You're as beautiful as she said," Luke complimented Natasha with a gallant air, earning a playful eye-roll from Newton. Natasha noted the dynamic between the two, the way Luke enjoyed subtly teasing her.

"Maybe Newton is onto something after all," Natasha replied, laughing softly as she observed Newton and Luke interact.

Luke was at ease, responding to Natasha's light questions with calculated calm. He didn't reveal much personal information, maintaining a professional and careful demeanor in his responses. Natasha tried to probe him about his work and interests, but Luke skillfully deflected, keeping the conversation on superficial topics.

During a momentary pause, Luke received a call on his cell phone. He discreetly stepped away to answer it, while you and Nat continued chatting. A few minutes later, Luke returned with a serious expression.

"Newton," Luke began, catching both your attention. "I just received an important call. We need to prepare for a trip to Seattle in a week. We have a client that requires our personal attention. We'll be there for a month."

You nodded, feeling the weight of responsibility on your shoulders. Natasha couldn't contain her excitement upon hearing about the trip. It was the perfect opportunity to gather evidence against Luke's criminal activities. She spoke with anticipation in her eyes. "That's great! I'd love to come along, if possible."

Luke seemed surprised by Natasha's suggestion, his gaze becoming more cautious. "Natalie, I'm not sure if…"

"I have family there, I don't need to know many details, I just didn't want to be away from Newton," Natasha said persuasively, while Luke looked at her with a wary gaze.

You smiled at Nat and kissed her gently. "Of course, you can come, right Luke?"

Luke nodded resignedly but with a faint smile. "Alright, then get ready for the trip."

While observing the tension in his voice, you recalled how meticulous he had been with security recently. First, insisting on buying a new computer for you, claiming it was safer and more efficient. Then, personally supervising the building's security system update. At the time, you thought it was just part of his protective nature as head of security. Now, however, looking at him, there was something in his behavior that made you wonder if he was hiding something.

The idea of betraying you was unbearable. If only she could find something to justify her mission, she could decide what to do next. She could stop everything, tell you the truth, and run away to Greece, or anywhere far from here.

On the flight, Natasha kept herself discreet, but every glance exchanged between you two left her more conflicted. You were excited about the trip, unaware of the internal turmoil Natasha was facing. She wanted to protect you, but how could she do that when she herself was the threat?

Upon arriving at the destination, Natasha checked into the same hotel as you, but Luke made sure she had no access to the meetings. He was vigilant, observing every interaction between you. You, on the other hand, seemed happy with the opportunity to explore the city alongside Natasha, oblivious to her true intentions.

Every night, as you fell asleep, Natasha stayed awake, lost in thought. She looked at you, feeling a mixture of tenderness and guilt. She knew she needed to act, to find something that would change everything. But until that happened, she stayed by your side, cherishing the time she still had.

Natasha Romanoff had no idea she wasn't the only one playing this game.

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Two - July 9, 2024

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Comments are appreciated :)