#i got this song LODGED inside my head help me

[actual-haise]

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

THE BATH- J. WASHINGTON

pairing: bf!josh x fem! reader

word count: who knows. small drabble

summary: you keep trying to have a bath at the lodge to warm up, but your golden retriever boyfriend josh keeps trying to come in and talk while you relax

warnings: none! nudity and light drinking, but all fluff

not proof read sorry for any mistakes!

not inspired by any song, but i listened to she calls me back by noah kahan while i wrote this, if people like music for vibes<3

got inspired for this drabble by none other then my cat, who keeps pushing the bathroom door open while im in the bath, and then leaves, and then when its shut he meows like crazy. yes josh is like a clingy cat.

it had been a long day, and the clock hadn't even struck ten yet. from hauling suitcases (josh hauling suitcases) and hours of (josh) driving, you had finally found yourself at blackwood mountain.

it was a relief, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of nostalgia for the place, despite the dust and creepy noises from the old pipes. everyone had already arrived by the time josh rushed in to start a fire for you, after he sae you shiver.

he had rushed you up to the doors, wrapping you in his coat and sticking his beanie on your head, making his pretty dark hair all tossled. you smiled at the thought that had happened a few hours prior, the pepper of kisses all over your face as he rushed you inside, wrapping you in fresh blankets- leaving the mothcovered ones for mike and chris.

it was weird in a way, to be here this year.

this was the first time you were here as a couple. before this, it had been years of slight touches and teasing, drunk forehead kisses and praises. but finally- finally you had gotten your wish. and apparently, josh had too.

a little knock sounded at the door, and you poked your eye open towards the door, neck rolling lazily from where it rest on the side of the bath.

"mike if you come in here right now i will chuck this candle at you." you called. the door poked open a creak, and a familiar eye peered over at you. "am i immune to candle throwing?" josh asked, making you giggle.

"you're in the clear." you smirked, water sloshing as you adjusted yourself so your elbows perched on the edge towards him. "hi handsome. whats up?"

"i missed you." he shrugged crouching down to be at your height, a soft smile on his face. "i think its been.. like twenty? twenty mintues maybe?" you teased, making him roll his eyes.

"i also wanted to take advantage of this whole, bathroom thing. you know how many times i wanted to come in before? now i can. boyfriend access only." he smirked, hand coming up to brush your warm cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear. his hand lingered and you leaned to kiss his inner wrist, savouring the softness of his skin.

"i think you're just a pervert. and clingy."

josh rolled his eyes. "god forbid men have hobbies. can i not be both?"

you laughed, kissing him again.

"i just wanted to come in to see if you needed anything. and cause i missed you, and chris is drunk and trying to get me to play president with him and matt."

he nearly became asshole in that game everytime. he was terrible at cards.

"what, you dont wanna be asshole again?"

"something like that. i like your ass though."

your eyebrow raised. "don't we all." you teased. "but hey, if you're offerring me something... maybe.. a glass of wine?"

he stood quickly, giving you a firm salute. he drank with you enough times to know exactly what kind you wanted without needing to ask. "godspeed pilgrim!" he ran out of the room, leaving the door wide open as he left.

"HEY! DOOR?! CLOSED PLEASE? IM NAKED!" you yelled out.

"OOOH NAKED?" you heard sam call out from the main room, making you roll your eyes. now you had them all riled up.

two seconds later, josh reappeared, glass of white in hand, water in the other. "thank you honey, but maybe next time shut the door? i almost had an audience." you cringed, taking the chilled wine glass from his hands. you took a sip, the sweet, dry liquid coating your throat.

"i get front row next time." he shrugged, planting a kiss on the top of your head before he snagged your towel.

"kay i'll leave you be baby. but im taking this so you have to come find me naked to dry off." he smirked, dangling the fabric in your direction before slipping out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

before you had time to protest, he was gone. you closed your eyes, sighing as you took another sip. he was such a tease. but thats what you loved about him. he never failed to make you laugh, he was so quick and witty.

it also meant he liked to get on your nerves, lovingly.

no longer then five minutes later, a knock was on your door. "yes?"

"its me again." josh murmered from behind the oak. you smiled, laughing softly.

"come in joshy." he sheeplishly smiled, sliding his large body through the doorway, firmly shutting it behind him. a deck of cards was in his hands as he approached you, sitting down on the tile floor next to the tub.

"can you play president with me?" he asked, starting to take the cards out of the paper box.

"baby, you can't play with two people."

he frowned. "well, can you teach me how to do this again? so i can kick everyones ass?"

you smiled. "of course baby. my sore, sore loser."

[rockingrobin69]

Strumming, Gentle

From the open window came the smell of frying garlic and of olive oil, and the singing, low and slightly off-tune. Delight was humming like a string of fairy lights in Draco’s chest, swirling like the wine in his glass, tangy-sweet.

“Almost ready,” Harry called. Then the clatter of dishes. To the rhythm of his steps around the kitchen, “Bring it back, bring it back,” the screen door creaking open, words curling in the steam pouring out to the little garden.

Then Harry was there too, with two plates and a grin. In his apron, ‘kiss the chef’(S ARSE, added in sharpie on the plastic), in his curly hair all mussed, lovely under the soft lamplight. “Hope you’re hungry.”

Draco never knew what true hunger meant until he had this: at his very fingertips, warm skin, Harry’s kissable lips and neck and chin and earlobe. And arse, wiggling in his jeans to the still-audible strum of guitars. “Love of my life,” with his eyebrows up, this unbearable look.

“Hmm?” startled and—“Sorry. Bon appetite. I mean, thank you.”

“Draco,” laughing, far more musical than the actual song. “It’s true, you know.”

“Shut up,” flushed deeper than the tomatoes on his plate. “This is… it’s more than enough.”

Harry was merciful. Taking his hand, pressing a little kiss to his palm. “Eat. It’ll get cold soon.”

“I would, only, there’s this twat who won’t let go of my hand.” When Harry’s fingers slackened their grip, Draco’s tightened. “I… you know that…”

“I know,” gently. “Eat, darling.”

The words he couldn’t say lodged in his throat, and this dizzying feeling, a headrush of it, of the knowledge, the certainty. Instead of trying to make all that into something coherent, Draco picked up the fork with his other hand, aimed for a bite. Missed, his eyes too focused on the laughing lines on Harry’s face, on the tilt of his smile growing and growing.

“Good,” Draco said, about a forkful of air. The garden was quiet, song finished, night-cold and bright with the lights they hung together. Smelling of vines and of lavender, of jasmine and garlic, of Harry’s spicy aftershave and sweet, sweet lips.

“Good,” Harry agreed, or perhaps challenged. Hand still in Draco’s, leaning back against his chair with this wonder in his eyes. They both stayed there, frozen for a moment, until Harry swallowed, a big gulp of it.

Threading their fingers together, taking a deep breath. Back in the kitchen, the old wireless started the next song, something lively and upbeat that Draco could barely hear. His heart, raucous in his chest, and Harry’s breathing, and this joy, still humming inside him. Bright and wild. Happiness and something more, something sure.

“Draco,” Harry laughed, “your food. It’s getting—”

“Cold. I know.” Only moving to get closer, to lean his head on Harry’s shoulder. “You’re such a bloody wanker.”

“Honestly,” voice thick with affection. “If I’d known serenading got you so flustered, I’d have done it long ago.”

“Shut up,” burying his face in the crook of Harry’s neck. “Gods, you’re unbearable.”

“Yes, you really seem to struggle. Another glass of wine, darling? To help you cope.”

“I’ll take the whole bottle if it’ll make you quiet,” growling so as not to smile. Smiling anyway. “Now will you just eat your food that you worked so hard on? You can make fun of me all you want later.”

“Sweetheart,” outraged, “I’m not making fun of you.”

“Of course not.” Another nip to his collarbone.

“Fine, only a little bit.”

The radio sang, don’t stop me now, and Draco thought, yes, please, never do. Let this last forever, the maddening smell of Harry’s perfect pasta and the even-better taste of his skin, the nip of his stubble against Draco’s cheek and the lights and the flowers and the night.

“Draco—”

The tone of his voice alone was enough. Draco’s head shot up, and he swallowed the rest of Harry’s words directly from his mouth, electric and dazzling. Head-spinning, breath-stealing, soul-shattering, and somehow Draco found himself sliding out of the seat and to the grass. Tucking himself between Harry’s legs, blinking an innocent look through his lashes.

“Draco,” urgent this time.

Smiling: “I thought you wanted me to eat.” Kissing the bulge straining under Harry’s tight jeans. “Please?”

“Fuck.” Taking Draco’s head in both hands. “Darling, I… you’re perfect, did you know that?”

“Hmm. I’ve been told once or twice before.” Taking the zip in his hands and pulling, slowly, slowly.

“Draco!” giggling hysterically. “You—what about your food?”

“Forget the bloody pasta, Harry. Sing to me.”

“What?”

Stroking his thigh, as soothing as he could get with the wildfire of desire licking his insides. “That song from before. The one with the… guitar. I want to hear it with your cock in my mouth.”

“You are fucking impossible,” Harry said, pure reverence in his tone.

“Correct. And you—love me.”

Bending to kiss his cheek, then the other. “I do.”

“Then indulge me.”

Harry laughed, shook his head, hands still cupping Draco’s face. “When you said you wanted to have dinner in the garden,” but he kept caressing his jaw with a thumb. “Okay, you perfect creature. Whatever you want, always.”

This was what he wanted. The shakiness of Harry’s voice, singing interspersed with moans and occasional shrieks. Love of my life, and Draco thought, yes, just like that.

(Flufftober day 10. Find the soft AO3 collection here).

[wonik1ss]

snowed in — sl.y

pairing : sullyoon nmixx x f! reader

song rec : the perfect pair - beabadoobe

“ Shit “.

“ No cursing! “

the two of you classmates went back and forth complaining about whether or not they were now snowed in and how it was eachothers faults.

While you just stared out the window waiting for there disagreement to finally end, while a certain someone kept on looking your way.

-

“ Should we share scary stories or something? “. one of your classmates said. it had been 30 minutes since the group had finally found out that they were really snowed in and the two that used to be screaming at eachother weren’t lying.

“ I guess so..”. Another classmate said as the scary stories started and you still stared out the window waiting for this whole thing to just end. with that same person still staring at you…

-

it had been another 30 minutes or so since the scary story’s had ended and now the other 7 kids in the cabin with you just roamed around like lost souls looking for a home. Or atleast that’s what you wrote in your journal. You were supposed to fill it in with you big and wild adventures in the snow lodge but this snowy situation should suffice right?

You had been writing in your journal for awhile when you felt those yes on you again. Instead of just shaking it of like the times before you looked up lock eyes grabbed the persons hand ; brought them to the only other room then the bathroom in this cabin which happened to be a very small closest and locked the two of you inside together.

You turned around now facing the person asking the question.

“ Why are you staring at me”. Nothing.

“ Hello is anyone there? “. Still nothing.

“ I swear- “.

“ I thought you were pretty “. Is what you though you heart from the tall figure which seemed to be an older shyer girl trying her best to speak up to you.

“ Your joking right “. You scoffed rolling your eyes at the taller girl.

“ No.. I.. I have had a crush on you for awhile.. I know you don’t know me but I’m Sullyoon.. from clas 105.. I don’t only like you becaue your pretty though. I like the smile and your laughter, and the way you always tilt your head to try to scare your friends but to me you just look.. really.. really cute “.

As she got closer you backed up into the closet door chest tightening ; cheeks rising, eyes glued to the now clear face of what you though was the most beautiful girl evers face.

Her eyes were doe, her hair chocolate brown and her lips.. plump red.

“ So.. do you like me to? “. She said and as you were about to answer the closet door opened leading you to stumble a bit. But thankfully the pretty girl caught you hand and still stared at you waiting for an answer.

“ What where you too doing in there? “. Your classmate who opened the door said wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you.

“ Shut Up.. Y/n and Sullyoon the people from the lodge came and are dug us out we can leave now” “. You and Sullyoon nodded and got your coats and belongings and went outside. Where the taller girl stopped you and said.

“ You didn’t answer my ques- “.

“ Sullyoon hurry up we’re going to miss the fireworks “. A short girl said which you assumed was her friend.

“ I’m coming soon Kyujin tell the others I’ll be back in a second “. Sullyoon yelled as the short girl rolled her eyes, and ran to the rest of Sullyoons friend group to tell them the news.

“ So- “.

“ I don’t know.. but maybe if we hung out more I could find out “. You smiled back up at the taller girl as she blushed and grabbed your hand to bring you to her friend group.

“ Guess being snowed in did really help “. She said as you approached her friend group the two of you smiling like big idiots.

“ YA WE ARE GOING TO MISS THE FIREWORKS NOW BECAUE OF YOU”. Kyujin said as she hit the older girls head.

But she didn’t care she had you.

Thank god for the god damn snow in.

[tjreidwrites]

The End Matters

A short story by Taylor Joseph Reid

My loft bed had a desk underneath and that’s where I did my homework and played video games. I had been practicing different combos against the CPU on Mortal Kombat until my thumbs ached. I knew if I played long enough for that to happen, then bedtime was around the corner. Sixth grade had only started, and tomorrow was a school day.

“I’m turning your lights out for you,” Mom said. “And Joe, you need to wake up when your alarm goes off tomorrow. I have way too much to do in the mornings as it is. It’s not my job to wake you up.”

“Got it, Mom.” I climbed the ladder and got in bed.

“Okay, goodnight.”

I said goodnight. She told me she loved me, and I said it back. Apparently, I said it too quietly because she replied, “What was that?”

“I love you too!”

She laughed and clicked my bedroom light off.

Sleep never came right when the lights went out. I stared mindlessly at the posters hung up by thumbtacks on the wall beside me. They were crinkled rectangles with blobs that couldn’t be recognized in the darkness for the Pokemon characters they were. I stared at the distorted images hoping my eyes would tire out.

It wasn’t working. I sighed and turned on my back, staring up at the black blank ceiling. Should I just keep trying to go to sleep? The thought alone made my mind race. What twelve-year-old needs eight hours of sleep anyway?

I sat up and reached down by my feet. A Gameboy Advance SP loaded up with Pokémon. Next to the Gameboy was my portable CD player and headphones. Both devices were lodged between the mattress and bed frame where I left them. I grazed the Gameboy but wasn’t in the mood to hide the light of the console under my blanket. I opted for the music and only the music.

I put the headphones on. The soft plush gently conformed to my ears. The sense of isolation from the outside world was now complete. At home in bed with the lights off and a pair of padded headphones on. Away from everything. Not bad at all. My video games served me as the ultimate escape, but even those adventures were worth getting away from sometimes. With a little help from music, I could create my own worlds.

Most of the records I owned were Christian music CDs I got from family members for birthdays and Christmas. Even though I liked some of the music, I was sick of those same old songs and obsessed with my latest disc. It was the first one I bought with my very own money! I never heard anything quite like it! I don’t think my mom and dad would have cared if they knew I had Linkin Park’s first release, Hybrid Theory, but I kept it a secret anyway. They had this thing about ‘secular music.’ I don’t know. Not going there. Besides, I didn’t like my parents knowing every little thing about me anyway. Having some secrets, big or small, felt right. Made me feel normal.

I lifted the comforter up to my neck and got cozy. I put the player by my side and grazed the buttons until I found the indented sideways triangle and pressed it.

The heavy-hitting trip-hop beat in the intro of ‘Papercut’ caused me to sink my head even further into the pillow. I shut my eyes and smiled as the turntable sounds went off. One measure later, the emotional hit of the full band—drums, guitar, and bass—came flooding in through my ears.

The explosiveness of the band with its genre-bending iconic nu-metal and alternative sound is what drew me in, but the lyrics and vocals are what made me obsessed. I let the music take me on a ride. It's like a whirlwind inside of my head. It's like I can't stop what I'm hearing within. It's like the face inside is right beneath my skin.

I pressed my eyes shut tight. Then tighter. White flashing fireworks exploded behind my eyelids with purple lights trailing behind like sparks of lightning that danced to the beat. I was on top of the world and only halfway through the first song.

Gooseflesh raised up on my arms as Chester sang, “The sun goes down. I feel the light betray me. The sun goes down. I feel the light betray me.” I could tell that his singing voice was coming from deep within him. It was beyond powerful. It was like his personal pain and joy of performing was its own entity, extending an arm to understand. I knew they (Linkin Park) understood me too. It’s not like they wrote the songs for me, but as if they wrote the songs for people like me.

I never knew how to express what it felt like to get picked on and bullied and made fun of as a kid. Who knew having a stutter and a little extra belly fat could be such a detriment? I was angry and confused when older kids would call me things like fat and worthless or spit on me while they circled around me on bikes like vultures. I was just trying to walk home from school. I never bothered anyone. There was a time when I was even younger, and a different set of kids pushed me to my knees and kicked the breath out of me if I tried to leave the park to go home. They would trap me there. Why? I don’t know. I had built up some anger and confusion, but it was more than that. More unexplainable feelings that I didn’t have words for. All the memories I wanted to repress but couldn’t get to leave. These songs had a way of making me feel better. They gave me ideas I didn’t know how to express with words. When I listened, I could think about the things in life better forgotten through a different lens. Does everyone feel like this when a band resonates with them?

The angst I had must have rivaled the most pissed-off twelve-year-olds on earth. When Chester screams, “Shut up when I’m talking to you, shut up! Shut up!” I mouthed the words.

Suddenly, the fireworks that were behind my eyes flipped and morphed into stage lights, and in a flash, I’m standing in a crowd. A sold-out concert. It's them. All six of them. Spikey blonde hair and everything. The moment of being with the crowd was short. I blink, and now I’m up on stage. Mike Shinoda even introduced me to the crowd. “We want to welcome our friend Joe Kennedy to the stage for this next one!” I have a mic clutched tight in both hands. I sang the entire next song with them. I’m screaming alongside Mike and Chester! How is this possible?

During the times I was stuck listening to my parents argue, I snuck out of the house so I didn’t have to listen to what they had to say to each other. I would rather go to the park and make believe I was a character from one of my favorite anime or video games, someone with power. Power and control. I’d launch myself off the swing at the height of its elevation point and barrel roll across the wood chips, springing up in a fighting position. Make-believe is nice. I get to be far from the things that bother me. If I would have stayed and listened to my parents fight, it would only end in me fighting myself. How much of it is my fault? Is it my fault?

Even though the next song called ‘Crawling’ was surely not written about the imminent divorce of one’s parents, it still made me feel like I wasn’t as alone.

To find myself again

My walls are closing in

(Without a sense of confidence, I'm convinced)

(That there's just too much pressure to take)

I've felt this way before

So insecure

I was still riding the wave, but my eyeballs began to flutter, telling me sleep was around the corner. The song ‘By Myself’ had me imagining myself behind the drum kit. I knew how to play a little bit, but I wanted to get better. Maybe if I was a good drummer, my classmates would think I was cool. Then Chester let out that piercing high scream, “Myself! I ask why, but in my mind, I find I can’t rely on myself, myself!” And I can almost feel a scratching in my throat. How does he do that? That scream. How does he sing like an angel and scream like that? I’m going to learn.

And maybe the opening piano of ‘In the End’ is what finally lulled me to sleep.

The angelic line, “It starts with one…” I enter the space where a daydream becomes a real dream. I fly through cold clouds under an ethereal moonlight, flipping and turning and going the speed of sound. The crowd screams its applause. I can hear it from the sky. Maybe it's for me, maybe it's for Linkin Park. “In the end, it doesn’t even matter…” because the applause is for you.

But the words of the song don’t mean that nothing matters or that life lacks substance. No, I don’t think that's what they wanted to convey. It's about the futility of trying to control what we can't. In the end, it won’t matter if the bully kicks you down; you can’t change them. Did you stand up for yourself? If your parents get divorced, you can’t make them love each other. Did you ask them to try one more time? Did they? That’s out of your control. If the love of your life leaves you, you can’t make them love you. You can’t even make yourself love you, so how could you make them do that? If your best friend betrays you, you can’t make them care as much as you do. If your boss fires you, they don’t know what you sacrificed away from the job, but they don’t care, and you can’t make them care. Did you do enough for yourself during all of this?

My dream becomes a premonition, and I truly am on stage. I’m older now. I’m not sharing the stage with LP anymore. It’s my very own band. Our own song worlds. I scream my best scream. It's as close to Chester’s tone as it gets for me. Maybe he’d smile if he knew. Shoot, maybe he knows better than anyone.

The crowd’s applause is deafening. “Thank you so, so much,” I say into the mic. The stage lights let up, and I can see in front of me. So many people. But there's a spotlight on the one I’m meant to notice. I’m at a loss for words. It’s me. Just from a moment ago. My old self. A wide-eyed kid that’s going to get yelled at in the morning when his mom has to shake him awake. He was too busy daydreaming to fall asleep when the lights clicked off. Then dreams inspired by his favorite band. The one that got him through everything.

The End (matters)

[cadrenebula]

Do you want to try that song shuffle-fic game? I'll give you the number 4 then! :)

In the End by Linkin Park

I tried so hard and got so far But in the end it doesn't even matter I had to fall to lose it all

(Thank you @celestialspark - I just want to say curse you playlist lol. With almost 900 songs and it gives me the one that got me through my Senior year of HS. So please have this dark piece of Alexois right after his betrayal of Lancefer... Prolly a little over 10yrs ago? I didn't do the math but Alex is 36 now an this happened in his early 20s. Warnings for blood and violence.)

Alex slumped with his back against the tree near one of the deep ravines. It seemed it was safe enough to stop running. Putting a hand over the still bleeding wound on his face.

A fraction slower on dodging and he could have lost his eye. It was bad enough how badly face wounds bleed. Lance's sword had certainly tried to claim his eye. Not that he could blame the man that had just been his friend the day before.

Balling his blood stained hand into a fist before thudding it into the tree behind him. He wasn't sure what hurt more. The one person he allowed himself to care about thinking the worst of him. Or the throbbing slash wound in the flesh of his face.

Wrapping a cloth around his face as best as he could to help stop the bleeding. Hands freezing at the sound of someone approaching. Quickly grabbing for his dropped polearm to defend himself. Just in time to avoid the blade of his mentor aiming for his neck.

"I told you to kill the boy. Yet he still lives. Why?" Sneered the dark skinned duskwight know as The Carver among Ishgard's assassins.

"I wasn't being paid to kill some snot nosed brat from Hallienarte." Alex grimaces as he avoids meeting his mentor's gaze.

"I gave you an order. I guess I'll just have to kill the boy myself then."

"No!" Alex snarled in response as he glared hatred towards Jacques. He wasn't going to let all his work still end in Lance's death. He'd hoped that betraying Lance would be enough to make it look like he'd never cared about the high born lad. As if he'd just been using the black sheep of the Aurifore family. Damn it all that it hadn't been enough to trick Jacques.

A sharp crack of flesh against flesh as Alex's head snapped to the side. The hastily wrapped cloth coming off his face with the backhand he took from Jacques. The wound still seeping blood as Alex snarled.

Lunging for his mentor now. He couldn't let it happen. He wouldn't. He might not be a good person but Lance was. Broken but with good intentions of trying to help those who should have been beneath him as a high born. Putting every thing his mentor had taught him over these years to use against him. He would not let Jacques kill Lance. Even if it meant he died here.

Alex knew he couldn't beat Jacques in a prolonged fight. The other assassin had far more experience and if he got inside of Alex's reach... He'd be screwed. Distance was his friend with a polearm. Using the terrain to his advantage as he attacked like a frenzied animal. Driving Jacques back towards the ravine. Hating that gloating look on Jacques' face as he blocked and feinted attacks.

Only for that gloating look to be replaced by one of shock. The edge where Alex had pushed Jacques to, crumbled beneath them. Down into the ravine the older man plummeted. But that polearm was Alex's saving grace as he managed to lodge it into part of the rocky face.

Alex managed to climb back up, collapsing onto his back. It wasn't safe for him anymore. Without going down there, he couldn't be sure if his mentor was dead. Nor did he have the strength to go check or face another fight. All he could do was hope that Jacques was dead at the bottom.

Forcing himself to his feet, he collected his discarded cloth he'd been using as a bandage. Once he had it in place again, he started south. Heading towards the Shroud to put as much distance as he could between himself and Ishgard.

[twilight-resonance]

Another Night (Olive Branch)

I know you've had one of those days when a song lodges itself inside your consciousness and you can't help but listen to it over, and over and over and over... On loop for hours. Today is one of those days. We're on hour... well, I listened to it on my whole drive, so that's about two and a half hours so far plus we've just started up again now.

My gods, it itches. Sometimes those songs feel like they're scratching an itch, and there's a feeling of relief. This one is almost there, but it never quite satisfies; and it's the kind of itch that, maddeningly, is both relieved by and irritated by the act of scratching it. But good gods, I can't stop.

This is the song. I can't explain why. I could explain why... but. But.

(In my version, the words in the first chorus are "Another night without you // Wishing you were dead"...)

See, here's the thing: I need to make that olive branch. It's time. It's driving me insane. I feel like a salmon called to the headwaters, or a whale when it's time to migrate. It's like there's a magnet in my brain and I need to make that olive branch.

It's rewiring my brain, I think. Is the thing. I think that's why this time is different. Why it's so itchy. There are some connections that sparked and some pieces that settled into place during my drive earlier, and I feel stronger now. There are some pathways that this song is knitting together that have been slowly creeping around the thicket separating them between, and they've finally found the other side.

Nyiss was probably my favorite innkeeper, and will be dear to my heart forever. But Xitli is important. Both for much the same reasons, if along different parts of the path.

(Xitli was the pathway in. Made a playlist for her, just for this song. Her working through those feelings through me working through her, or some such thing.)

My gods, but that chorus though.

Another night I had you, living in my head And I'm trying to work it out

Another night without you, wishing you were dead there... And I-I... I'm going down

You remember that part where I said that pop music has always been the clearest depiction of deep emotional turmoil, to me? Well this ain't pop music, but it's got the same thing. That chorus is so upbeat-energetic, and the words are just. A lance through me. Particularly juxtaposed against the music. I think I found a way to express why, the other way. It was (as all such things are), a post going around about grief; how one of the great tragedies of grief is the mundanity of it. You still have to go to the store and run errands and eat and sleep, despite the fact that your whole world has just been turned upside-down and you're a shell of who you were literally yesterday. It's that. That's it. The immense contrast of your world being obliterated and the mundanity of the rest of the world continuing on with its own, and that being the greatest blow of all. That's why pop music. Upbeat music. That's why it most clearly depicts suffering, to me.

Another night I had you, living in my head And I'm trying to work it out

(Do you remember when I would stalk around the house, twelve hours a day for most of a year, like a haunt that couldn't solve itself? Do you remember how many arguments we've had; how many ugly words we've slung; do you remember all the dreams you've visited me in, even years later and apart? Do you remember the way I've lived with you in my shadow, and mine in yours, for years now - how often I've had to think of you, whether i wanted to or not, because necessity dictated it?)

Another night without you, wishing you were dead there... And I-I... I'm going down

(Do you remember how much I've hated you, and how much I loved you? How each threatened to eclipse the other, and I was overfull to bursting? How many nights I wished you'd been there to talk to, for one reason or another; and how many nights I wished I could tear you apart with my teeth like a ragdoll? Do you remember how much these things have weighed-on-me-all, and dragged-me-down-drowning?)

That's the thing though. It's agony, it's absolute agony, but it's fun too. I'm not mastered by it anymore - I'm stronger, and I can feel it this time. I've solved the haunt. Yeah, another night I've had you living in my head - because how could you not? (What the hell you put me through) I am what I am because of you, and for the first time in a near-decade, that's okay again.

So you see, that's why I have to make the olive branch. It's time. It's beyond time. I can't do this anymore. It's going to drive me mad.

(As if I weren't already.)

(I'm going to go write now. For the first time in a near-decade. For the first time in a near-decade, I'm going to go write.)

[borathae]

“Jungkook got new jeans last week and he looks so adorable in them that you can’t help but want to play with him.”

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x f.Reader 

Genre: Smut, established relationship!AU

Warnings: sub!Jungkook, dom!Reader, mommy kink, vibrating buttplug, orgasm control, edging, ruined orgasm, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), dry humping, use of a wooden spanking paddle, finger sucking, Jungkook is a needy bunny, the softest aftercare

Worcount: 4.8k

a/n: I blame Jungkook in those blue jeans for the creation of this, because I can’t get this outfit out of my head. Enjoy besties 💜

"Play with me."

That was the first thing Jungkook said to you this morning. 

It was not long that he was stripped naked and with his legs pulled to his chest, feeling breathless and giggling the entire time you prepared him for his favourite game. Jungkook ended up with a vibrating buttplug lodged inside of him. Silicone, black, with a sleek tip. You made him lower his legs afterwards and then close them. Then you told him to sit up. Jungkook still thought that you would continue your play at that point because you often made him sit on his buttplugs as it made him squirm so perfectly. He soon realised with horror yet delight that you were not planning on continuing your little game as you made him put his clothes back on and then left the room to take a shower instead.

It left Jungkook squirming on the bed because he watched you take the remote control to his plug with you. 

So he waited with bated breath and his cock straining against his briefs for the moment he would feel those sweet vibrations.

But they didn’t come. As a matter of fact they didn’t come at breakfast either. Or later when he ate you out on your yoga mat. Or even later when you took him shopping because you wanted a new pair of lingerie. Jungkook knew that you were only going lingerie shopping to rile him up. You even made him follow you into the dressing room with you and help you try the pieces on. His plug however, stayed passiv. It frustrated Jungkook and he ended up sucking on your breast so needily that he bruised it accidentally. Didn’t work, the sweet vibrations he so deeply craved stayed away. Jungkook also ended up buying you every single piece of lingerie you liked, but he would have done so with or without a plug up his ass. He just really enjoys treating you. 

Jungkook was restless on the way home because you kept the remote on your lap and fumbled with it. He could watch you graze your thumb over the button ever so often and it drove him insane. The vibrations however didn’t come. 

Jungkook grew almost mad in the elevator to the penthouse, seeking your touch as he pressed his body against yours and nuzzled his face into your shoulder. You hugged him back in an instance.

"Did you forget mommy?" he asked shyly. 

"Forget what Bunny? That?" you showed him the remote. 

"Yes", he whispered and shivered in your arms. 

"No, I didn’t forget", you said nonchalantly and let the remote disappear back into your pocket. 

Jungkook squeezed your body in a desperate hug, but the vibrations didn’t come.

You left Jungkook with his frustrations in the living room, telling him that you would be upstairs sorting through your closet. 

It was a lie. Well partially, you did sort through your closet for a little while, keeping the door open to listen to Jungkook’s sounds. 

Music was playing downstairs. It is Jungkook’s playlist of his favourite songs. 

If your calculations were correct he was currently dusting his way too expensive collection of handcrafted pottery, dressed in one of your favourite looks. Purple jumper and ripped blue jeans with his favourite white socks. It was simple, but made you go crazy. Not only because it is always such a welcome change from seeing him in suits all the time (which was also a great view), but also because the sleeves of his jumper were just that tiny bit too long for him so he always ended up with sweater paws and also the holes in his jeans gave view to his perfectly toned thighs. It was truly a work of art and said work of art has been driving you insane ever since he left your penthouse for your shopping trip in it.

Jungkook is singing downstairs, he has such a lovely voice. How it must sound if you pressed this...button.

"Ah! Holy shit!" he yelps, voice cracking before loud moans bounce off the walls and reach your ears. 

You smirk. Oh, he sounds so sweet. 

"Holy fuck, oh fuck."

You giggle and hide the remote back in your pocket. Then you finally make your way downstairs, making sure to take your sweet time. 

"Ah, ah, hah, ah", Jungkook’s sweet moans are not to be stopped, guiding your way until you finally find him in the middle of the living room floor with his legs pulled up and his hands between his thighs. 

His fingers are pressed against the plug, ankles crossed and toes curled and on his handsome face a rosy blush has appeared. 

He looks at you, eyes barely open and yet his mouth is agape. 

"Are you alright?" you ask. 

"M-mommy", he stutters and quakes, "f-feels, feels, fe-feels…"

"Feels what Bunny?"

"...so good. Ha!" Jungkook moans loudly, letting his eyes roll back before they flutter closed, "ha-ah, ah, a-hah." 

Oh he is so noisy today. His sweet voice sounds so wonderful when pleasure soaks it. 

"Mhhhm so adorable", you decide, strutting to the chaise lounge by the tall windows and sitting down on it with your legs crossed. 

The skyline of the city is your backdrop, the black leather sticks to your skin and squeaks as you move to retreat the remote.

Jungkook is rutting against his hands, feet twitching cutely. His head is rolled to the side, giving view to his scrunched up face. His black hair is sprawled all over the marble floor, messy and unstyled and yet you have never found it more beautiful as in this moment when Jungkook lets out a sinful moan and arches his back, fingers pressing down on the plug. 

"Mommy gonna cum."

"No you're not", you order and turn the vibrations off. 

Jungkook whines, rolling his ankles as he rubs his hands up and down between his legs almost pathetically fast. 

"Why would you edge me? Mommy please I wanna cum", he whines and almost sobs, resorting to huffing out air instead. 

Oh he looks so adorable that you want to eat him whole. So cute with his legs all pulled up and his hands all squished between his thighs. Oh and heavens, his jumper slipped up too, revealing his pretty waist to your eyes. 

You press the button again, listening to Jungkook’s voice crack in a grateful moan. 

You could watch his face change from despair to utter bliss in mere seconds. You will never get it out of your head again. This face is up there now with all the other pretty faces he makes when you play with him. 

"Thank you mommy! Thank you, thank you, thank you", Jungkook chants, chasing his hands with messy grinds. 

He is curling and relaxing his toes rhythmically, keeping his ankles crossed because that makes him just that much tighter around the plug. 

"You look so cute Bunny", you say. 

Jungkook peels his eyes open to gaze at you. It makes a single tear of pleasure run down his flushed cheek. He smiles then, soon furrowing his brows before he moans loudly. 

"Look at you, so close again." 

"Mommy…" 

Click. 

Jungkook whimpers, shaking his head furiously. 

"Why? Why? Why?" 

"Because I want to. And also because we both know that you aren’t allowed to cum until I give you permission." 

"But mommy - ah!" Jungkook forgets everything he wanted to say, squirming as a new wave of pleasure courses through his veins. You turned it on again, making him feel every second of utter bliss.

You knew what you were going to do to him when you chose to go with this plug. You owned many vibrating plugs in all shapes and sizes. But this one is special because it stimulates his prostate with such precision that he is breathless within minutes. 

Today was no different, mere minutes passed and Jungkook had to resort to falling to his side and rolling into a tiny ball, reaching behind himself to press his fingers against the toy. 

"Please don’t stop, please mommy feels so good, don’t wanna be edged again." 

"Oh I’m not going to turn it off, but you are not allowed to cum. Do you hear Bunny?" 

"What? B-but I, I can’t", he moans and twitches, "I need to cum so bad." 

"Well that’s too bad then", you say and turn off the toy.

"No!" Jungkook's head snaps up, eyes widened. He huffs out air, furrows his brows, "okay, okay I, I can handle it. I'll try harder from now on", he stutters, straightening up to sit down on his heels. He rests his hands on his thighs and lowers his head. 

"I'll try from now on." 

"Yeah?" 

He nods his head vigorously, "yes mommy!" 

"Very well." 

Click. 

"Hngn", Jungkook presses out through gritted teeth, neck tensing as he tilts his head back. His fingers twist in his jeans, his thighs are pressing together and his poor cock is throbbing uncontrollably. 

"Mhhm interesting", you murmur, watching him take deep breaths with his eyes squeezed shut tightly. 

Click. 

Jungkook opens his eyes halfway and laughs breathily. His fingertips turn white against the fabric they are twisting. He laughs again, it sounds more like a panicky moan than anything else. You know that he is struggling. The second setting is strong. Really strong. 

Click. 

"Mommy!" Jungkook exclaims, dropping his face to the ground and sticking his ass in the air. He needs less pressure on the plug, sitting on his heels would have broken him in a mere second. Oh this isn’t better, this isn’t better at all. It feels so much deeper in this position. Jungkook grunts, arching his back as he fucks back against nothing. He tense, back arching and fingers desperately trying to close around something. 

"Third level, you’re handling it surprisingly well." 

"M-mommy it's, it's unfair please -", a sob interrupts him as his body convulses in a wave of pleasure, "-give me a chance!" he presses out with his voice slightly raised because the pleasure becomes too overwhelming to speak normally. 

"Mhhhm, alright." 

Back to the first level. 

Jungkook sighs but continues twitching and shivering, lifting his head to gaze at you. You love that look at him. When his eyes are half-lidded and his gaze is almost droopy. When his lips are so swollen and red from all his biting. When his cheeks are so flushed and the tip of his nose so rosy. When his black hair frames his face in messy strands and sticks to his forehead. He is the prettiest that way. 

"Mommy I'm so close", he squeaks, "please give me a break." 

"Do you need a break?" 

"Not that kind of break please just - argh god ah", he squeezes his eyes shut, "so c-close." 

"You can do it Bunny, don’t disappoint me." 

Jungkook mewls and in his desperation he begins crawling to you. 

"Please mommy a short break", he pauses to take deep breaths, flexing the muscles in his back. His fingers twitch on the ground, his thighs rub together. 

You laugh and shake your head, "no Bunny, no break."

"Feels too good", he squeaks, arms shaking as he continues crawling to you, "mommy it feels too good." 

"Mhm I know, only the best for my Bunny." Jungkook sobs, dropping his face to your foot as he grasps your ankle.

"I'm gonna cum." 

"No you’re not", you spit, tugging him up by his hair. 

Jungkook doesn’t even care to focus his gaze at you, staring at you cross-eyed and with his eyelids fluttering. 

"I can't, I can’t", he keens, squeezing his legs together and rubbing the plug against his heel. 

He hugs your legs and buries his face in your lap.

"Please say yes", he begs, "please mommy." 

His thighs are caging in your legs, hips grinding against you. He is so hard in his jeans, so sensitive, humping you like a needy little animal.

"Pleaseeee", his word turns into a desperate sob, "I can't take much more." 

More rutting, his nails are digging into your legs, he is almost suffocating himself with your thighs. 

"Mommy, oh god mommy", he chokes and begins panting, "mommy I'm cumming!" 

You allow him to cum, turning off the vibrator the moment that first wave of his high hit him. Jungkook wails and ruts against you like a desperate bunny, chasing the high you so cruelly ruined. 

But to no avail. No matter how tightly he hugs you, how close he presses himself, how much he begs, his high is gone. Ruined and never to return. 

Jungkook raises his head and stares at you. He seems devastated. 

"You already know what you did, don’t you Bunny?" 

He nods his head, eyes filling with tears. 

"Say it." 

"I c-came without your permission", he whispers shakily. 

"Yes Bunny", you say and sigh, "you came without my permission." 

You reach out and cup his cheek. He leans into the touch, kissing your palm. 

"You know that this has consequences, don’t you?" 

"Yes mommy I know." 

"Then you also know what to do now, don’t you Bunny?" 

"Yes mommy I know", he says and stumbles to his feet to get the wooden paddle you always keep in the living room. Yes, you were having these kinds of adventures a lot in the living room. 

He hands it to you with a deep bow and then begins to undress himself. 

"Just the jeans, I want you to keep the sweater on", you order, playing with the paddle mindlessly.  

He nods his head obediently, tugging the hem of the sweater back down. He pulls down his briefs afterwards, revealing his still impressively hard cock to your eyes. It was covered in his cum, looking so red and pink against the white. So pretty.

Then he stands and waits, fumbling with the sleeves of his sweater and keeping his head lowered. 

You uncross your legs. Jungkook swallows. 

"Get on there", you order. 

Jungkook obeys quickly, lying down on your lap. He supports himself on the chaise lounge, keeping his hands hidden in the sleeves of his sweater. His thighs are trembling, his ass tense as he awaits his punishment.

"Look at you", you gush and part his ass. 

Jungkook exhales shakily at the sensation, relaxing for your touch.

"Oh that plug looks so pretty in you", you rasp, pressing down on it with your pointer finger. 

Jungkook gasps and tenses, biting down on his lower lip. He knows that he isn’t allowed to make a sound right now. Not when you are punishing him. 

Click. 

Jungkook groans, muffling himself by quickly throwing his hand over his mouth. You watched it happen, just as you watched the plug shift as his body tensed up. You laugh. 

"Oh Bunny, you’re adorable", you say, kneading his toned ass thoroughly, "now, I’m going to use this paddle to hit you ten times and you are going to stay quiet. Understood?" 

"Yes mommy, understood." 

"Good Bunny. Now...One." 

Jungkook squeaks, pressing his lips together as best as possible. 

"Two."

You make it sting because he made a sound at the first hit. Jungkook stays silent, only exhaling shakily. 

"Very good. Three." 

His cock throbs, rubbing against your thigh in the process. The vibrator is adding sensations to his punishment that Jungkook doubts that this was even a punishment in the first place. This feels way too good, way to fucking good to be his punishment.

His opinion to this statement soon changes however when he feels his toes curl at the forth spank and a moan almost slipped past his lips. He throws his hand over his mouth at the last second, furrowing his brows. This was a punishment, oh it's so hard to keep quiet. Jungkook just wants to make sounds. He furrows his brows and squeezes his own face. This is so hard.

"Five", you rasp, using more strength. 

Jungkook flinches and makes the tiniest of sounds. His cock is leaking, leaving a mess on the marble floor. 

"A sound. I'm disappointed. Six!"

Jungkook feels his head snap back at the sensation, his hand falls from his mouth. 

"Mom-" he stops himself, forcing his eyes open to look at your reaction. 

You seem displeased. 

"Seven", you growl, hitting him so hard that he can feel it all the way down to his toes. 

Jungkook convulses on top of your legs, prostate pulsating against the plug and cock twitching. He lets one little squeak escape. 

"Bunny, I’m warning you." 

He searches for your hand frantically, finds it and guides it to his mouth to gag himself with three of your fingers. He is desperate. Anything to keep quiet.

You laugh, stomach tingling. 

"You're so cute, gosh….Eight." 

Jungkook rips his eyes open, almost biting down on your fingers. He squeezes your wrist, feels his stomach tighten. His ass burns so much. He exhales loudly, inhales even louder. He can’t handle much more. 

"Nine." 

Hard, ruthless, calculated and perfectly placed. Just like all your hits and spanks and whips are. You know which spots to aim for, which buttons to push, which areas to torture. Jungkook is sucking on your fingers desperately, doing everything in his power not to scream. The wood stings and leaves a deep burn, his cock continues to grind against your thigh, his prostate can barely handle the vibrations. Jungkook finally understands now that the true punishment for cumming without your permission isn’t the hits but having to stay quiet. Oh making sounds for you just comes so natural to him that having to stay quiet almost drives him insane.

"Last one", you say and caress his buttocks with the paddle then raise it high, "Ten." 

Jungkook makes a sound. He doesn’t really know if it was instinct or if he wanted it to happen. He is glad that he did however because his disobedience not only earns him a curl of your fingers but also another ruthless hit with the paddle. 

Jungkook gags and groans deeply.

"Oh Bunny, you did so well and now look at you", you say with disappointment in your voice, "twelve." 

Jungkook bites down on your fingers. He is trying, really trying. Because as much as the eleventh spank filled his body with ecstasy, the twelfth spank is bringing him dangerously close to his orgasm again and he fears what consequences yet another orgasm without your permission could have for him. 

He ends up moaning quietly. 

"Tzt. Thirteen." 

Jungkook forces your fingers deep down his throat, clenching around the plug in hopes that it would be easier to bear that way. It isn’t. It makes it worse. 

Jungkook huffs out air, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing tears out in the process. You listen intently, caressing his ruined ass with the flat of the paddle. 

"Mhm? No sound?" 

Jungkook shakes his head, panting heavily through his nose. 

"Good Bunny", you praise, pulling your fingers free to caress his burning ass instead, "your punishment is over, you did well." 

As if on command Jungkook begins moaning, squirming in your lap and cock twitching uncontrollably.

"Don't tell me you’re close again?"

"Y-yeah so c-close." 

"Oh Bunny", you laugh, "what should I do with you?" you taunt, turning off the vibrator. 

Jungkook whines yet sighs in relief at the same time. He rubs his hands up and down your calves vigorously, pressing his swollen cock against your thigh. 

"Please mommy." 

"Do you want a reward Bunny?" 

"Yes please", a pause, "but o-only if I deserve one." 

You laugh, melting on the spot. He is so cute. 

You begin running your fingers up and down his back and ass, giving him a loving massage. He shivers with every touch, rubbing his legs together and moaning quietly.

"Do you want mommy to make you cum, Bunny?"

He nods his head vigorously.

"Yes mommy so much, please make me cum", he begs with his voice slightly pitched. 

"Alright", you give his butt a gentle spank, "come on make yourself comfortable between my legs."

Jungkook stumbles to his feet with shaking knees, soon occupying the space between your legs. You claim his body in a strong hug, draping your legs over his to stop them from closing. 

"So you can’t escape from me", you growl playfully, making him giggle shyly and snuggle closer against you. He even rises his shoulders to his ears in giddiness.

"You hear me Bunny? You’re mine." 

He giggles, "I'm yours mommy", he murmurs cutely, making you smile. 

"Exactly. Mine", you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and kiss him softly, "lean back Bunny", you whisper against the shell of his ear. 

Jungkook falls into your chest with a breathy moan, closing his eyes and heart racing in his chest. 

"That's it, now relax. Mommy is going to take such good care of you." 

You let your hand disappear under his jumper, searching for his nipples. 

"Ah", he gasps and arches his back. 

You twist and pinch them slowly, nibbling on his neck as you do. 

"I like it so much", he whispers, feeling shivers run down his spine.  

"Yes? I like your body Bunny, you’re so beautiful", you praise, rolling your thumbs over his nipples slowly. 

Jungkook sighs, heart fluttering in his chest. 

You purr, dragging your nails down his pecs to his stomach. His cock looks so tempting from your point of view, it is just asking to be touched.

He mewls as you outline his abs, squirming more and more the closer you get to his cock. 

Click. 

"Mommy", Jungkook whimpers.

"Is it nice?" you ask, caressing his v-line with your nails. His cock twitches, his hips roll into the pillows. 

"Yes, so nice - ah god - please don’t turn it off again." 

Jungkook retorts to moaning afterwards, pressing himself closer to your body as he is basking in those sweet, sweet vibrations.

"That's it Bunny, fall into me. I'll make sure you’re feeling so good", you encourage him and wrap your fingers around his length, jerking it off slowly. 

Jungkook whimpers and reaches for your leg only to end up grabbing his own thigh instead. 

"Do you want to hold me too?" 

He nods his head, whimpering. 

You help him, guiding his hand until he can dig his nails into your thighs. 

"Thank you mommy", he whispers, sucking in air through his teeth afterwards.

You feel up and down his length, feeling his veins pulsate under your fingertips. You slow down each time you reach his tip, using the extra time to pick up some of his arousal and play with his frenulum. His thighs twitch each time you touch it, no matter if you are doing it once, twice, thrice or a dozen times, his legs are trembling nonetheless. You travel down his cock again, you give it gentle pressure so it would be resting against his stomach then you begin running your palm up and down the underside of his cock.

"Ah", his voice sounds so pretty in the tranquil silence. His body is so relaxed yet tensed in pleasure. He smells so good too, like vanilla and flowers and the specific kind of warmth he always radiates when you play with his cock. 

You take it between your fingers again, picking it up with your fingertips only to let it drop out of your grasp each time. You make sure your fingertips are running along his sensitive tip each time. 

He giggles and moans, rolling his head to the side to kiss your jawline. 

"That's nice isn’t it?" 

"Yeah", he giggles, "ah mommy", and just like that he was moaning instead.

You know that on normal days you could play with him for hours. Jungkook has the stamina, determination and devotion for it. Today however you know that the added sensations of the vibrator and the lingering burn of his previous punishment was making it difficult for him to function properly, let alone hold on for long. 

You wrap your fingers around him again and continue your smooth rolls up and down his length. Jungkook mewls, squeezing your thigh. You let your other hand disappear under his sweater, feeling up his torso until you have his nipples under your fingers. Jungkook trembles, cock throbbing in your hand.

"Now Bunny, I want you to know that you are allowed to cum whenever you want", you rasp, rolling circles on his slit and pinching his nipple softly.

Jungkook moans, cock twitching in your hand. The vibrations feel so nice against his prostate, you are so warm against him, your fingers are so skilled in their movements. You smell so nice too, like flowers and home. Your kisses are even better, making him tingle all over. His nipples are so sensitive, you play with them so nicely. Jungkook won’t be able to hold on for long. 

"Do you hear me Bunny?" you stress, squeezing his cock and twisting his nipple at the same time.

"Yes!" he yelps and rolls his hips on the pillows, "yes I understand mommy." 

"Good bunny", you praise and kiss his neck. You retort to your slow touches, showering his body in a continuous rain of warm pleasure.

Jungkook relaxes even further, letting his head fall against your shoulder and parting his lips. Your fingers feel like heaven around his cock. Smooth and soft and gentle and yet with enough pressure that keeping his legs open soon becomes very difficult. He is grateful that you help him with that. Just as you help him with his high. Fuck, just the thought that you were the one masturbating his body, turns Jungkook on to the point of no return.

"Mommy I'm really close", he squeaks. 

"Good, I’m not stopping you", you rasp, kissing his cheek. 

"It feels so good", he moans, soiling your fingers with his precum. 

"I'm glad it does. Do you like the way I'm touching you?" 

"Yes mommy so much." 

"Do you like the way the plug feels?" 

"Yes, oh-", he shudders, "-so much." 

His nails hurt on your thighs, he is squeezing you so much. His stomach spasms in ragged pants. You pulled his sweater up far enough to be able to watch it happening. His cock is so big in your hand, so red and hard. His nipples are so swollen and his damp skin is covered in goosebumps. Oh and his pretty hole, you can only imagine how it is clenching around the plug.

Jungkook tenses up then, just as you began running your thumb over his cockhead.

"That's the spot."

You put more attention to his tip, squeezing it softly as you roll your wrist rhythmically. 

Jungkook inhales in wheezes, pressing closer.

"Mommy, mommy, mommy", he chants, hitting your leg in panic, "mommy, I, oh, mommy."

"Sssh Bunny it's okay", you wrap your arm around his waist and kiss his cheek, "let go, do it for me." 

"Hngng-ah", Jungkook squeaks and falls silent, coming undone with a series of uncontrollable shakes and spasms, soiling not only your hands but also his stomach with his cum. 

Then he laughs, he laughs from the depths of his tummy, rolling his hips into the pillows lazily to bask in the last seconds of his afterglow. You continue running your fingers over his length until he twitches. 

"No more", he laughs, and squeaks in happiness. 

You chuckle, playing with his cum lazily and turning off the vibrator. 

"Oh god mommy", he giggles, "this felt so good", he confesses and laughs again. 

Hearing him laugh makes you laugh as well and you can’t help but squeeze his waist tenderly. It is rare that Jungkook honestly laughs after orgasming. You had outburst of tears when sex was all the emotional catalyst he needed to finally let go of all the pain in his chest. You had complete and utter stillness when you made him cum so hard that he had to learn how to function again. You had total bliss, babbling gratefulness, utter surprise, sometimes shock too and also instant sleepiness. And while you loved all of those reactions equally, hearing him laugh wholeheartedly was one of your favourites. 

Jungkook nuzzles into you and giggles. 

"You're the best mommy ever", he whispers, gazing into your eyes.

"Awww Kookie", you cup his cheek, "and you are the best bunny ever." 

He gives you his prettiest bunny smile and giggles. You retort it, leaning down to peck his lips. 

"Why don’t I clean you up now and take out that buttplug?" 

"No." 

"No?" you chuckle.  

"No, uhm, yes to the cleaning but no to the buttplug. I wanna keep it in." 

"Really? You’re trying to play with fire again, aren’t you?" 

"Yes, I wanna play more later. I wanna please you." 

"Oh Kookie", you chuckle and kiss his lips, "you're already pleasing me so much." 

Jungkook giggles, turning in your lap so he could kiss you better and you allow him, lying him down on the chaise lounge and weaving your fingers through his hair. 

You truly have the best boyfriend ever.​

[buckys-black-dress]

i don't care, i'm in love

a/n: alright sexies, part two! of my last thing you guys liked! idk if anyone's noticed just yet but the titles are from tame impala's song 'new person, same old mistakes' because the song is fire asf. anyways. enough talking, here it is! enjoy! (sorry this took so long lol, i had no idea where i was going w this plot after part 1.)

warnings: penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), choking, cursing. this story is 18+ !!! tap off if you're a minor. this is your warning.

wc: 4k words

[bucky barnes x fem!reader]

read part one here!

-

It's been a few days since your outburst with Bucky in the kitchen. While you haven't made eye contact with him whenever you've been in the same room, you've practically felt his looks from across the room.

The air had definitely shifted in any room where you were both present. Nobody still knows about your past relationship, and you don't intend on telling anyone about it.

You've decided to let Bucky stew in silence, not allowing any leeway. If he wanted to be stubborn, this is where it would land him. He chose his own fate in the end, and now he would have to suffer the consequences.

And it was pretty awkward, to say the least. It was currently movie night in the Avengers Tower, and you were all in the movie theater. Tony had selected a rom-com tonight, as superheroes do. You were sat with Natasha on a loveseat, your legs swung over hers as your shared snacks were laid on your lap for the both of you.

She had, of course, noticed your change in demeanor since your impromptu break-up. You hadn't divulged in the details with her, not wanting to out the relationship. Even though you wanted to be petty as ever, you decided you were going to be the mature one in this situation.

And then Bucky walks in.

With a... another girl?

Maybe you weren't taking the high road after all.

You instantly feel a heat wash over your body, making you want to scream and cry and laugh in incredulity all at the same time.

What the fuck?

"Hey guys, I brought a date to movie night, if that's alright..." His voice sounded like nails on a blackboard to you right now. "This is Sophia."

He says it so simply that no one knows what to say. Everyone spares a glance at you, and for a second, you wonder if he had told anyone.

But everyone had somewhat of an idea that Bucky likes you!

So now, everyone was a bit confused.

"Uhm, yeah, nice to meet ya. Take a seat anywhere." Steve's voice cuts the suffocating silence.

You make brief eye contact with Bucky, but you look away as fast as you had looked in the first place. You felt like there was a golf ball lodged in your throat, and if you didn't stop yourself, you think you would've strangled that motherfu-

You're led out of your train of thought by a light tap on your arm. Natasha gives you a look that's saying, you look like you're about to kill someone. Are you okay?

You shake your head, letting her know you're just fine. Everything's fine. Bucky's over there, with another girl, who's holding his hand. And you've been here wondering for the past two months what's been so wrong about you that he couldn't do the same with you. Let alone even tell people you were in a relationship.

And you're not going to lie. This stung. Really bad.

Although you wanted to sit here and act as unbothered as possible, it was hard. You wanted to enjoy your night, watch your movie, and go to bed. This was a turn of events that you weren't expecting in the least.

The tension in the room was too much, everyone exchanging glances back and forth between you, Bucky, and Sophia. They were all confused. There was an obvious tension between you and Bucky, and although it was never anything serious to them, they all thought he would man up soon enough and ask you out.

Now, sympathetic looks were being shot across the room between all the team members, and no one could say really say anything.

Suddenly, Steve sits up in his seat and glares at his friend.

"Buck, can ya help me bring some snacks from the kitchen?" The blond asks, not waiting for a reply from the brunet.

Once they're safely out of earshot from the movie room, Steve grasps Bucky's shoulder in a tight hold that has Bucky wincing.

"What the hell, man?" His voice comes out strained and laced with confusion.

"Buck, I think I should be asking you that question." Steve says. "Don't play fuckin' dumb with me. You know what I wanna talk about."

"Well, please do enlighten me-"

"Oh would ya drop it? Sophia? I'm sure she's a great gal, but for the past six months you've been bitchin' and moanin' about Y/N." Steve cuts his friend off, trying to gauge the situation.

"I just... things went south. I needed somethin' new... somethin' different." Bucky's voice was meek, almost like he was afraid to admit this to his best friend of 90 years.

"What... whaddaya mean things went... south? Did you tell her you liked her and she rejected you or somethin'?" The blond asks, brows pulled together in confusion.

"I just... I can't really explain to you what happened but... it was bad. I fucked up, Stevie." Bucky's head is still tilted downwards in guilt.

"Buck, you know you can tell me anything, right?" A hand is placed on his shoulder, and he wants to shrug it off, I don't deserve any comfort, he thinks. I did this all by myself.

"Can I just... I'll tell you. But you can't tell anyone. Especially Tony or Nat. Or Wanda." Steve gives him a brief nod, motioning for Bucky to go on.

"Y/N and I had been... seeing each other for the past two months..." Bucky starts to explain, and Steve's eyes are jut about popping out of their sockets by the time he finishes explaining.

A few moments pass, and silence soaks the air surrounding them.

"You... you two were dating... in secret? You didn't tell me?" The look Steve gave Bucky made the latter's insides twist in the worst way possible. He should've told his best friend.

"Steve, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. We agreed to keep it between us until... "

"Until she decided she'd had enough."

"Yeah."

A pregnant pause and flat face followed, and flat face followed, and Bucky's now realizing how much he's fucked up. Not in the first place, per se, but by bringing Sophia here.

"So can you tell me why you've dragged that poor girl here?" Steve breaks the silence first.

"I-I... I met her at a bar a couple nights ago. Needed to get out, have a drink. She came up to me and asked me for my number, and... yeah."

What Bucky didn't explain is that as soon as she started talking to him, she had immediately realized he was painfully in love with someone else. She had been kind, understanding of his situation. Instead of trying to get in bed with him, she sat down with him while he explained to her how he got himself in this mess.

"You know... I can help you..." Sophia tells him with innocent eyes.

"Really? How?" Bucky's tone was incredulous, like the mere idea of doing something about this whole thing was possible.

"Well, she seems to care about you a lot. But maybe you just need to get a... reaction out of her. She's unbothered now, she says she 'moved on.' Show her she hasn't." She explains.

"But...how?"

And thus... this situation was born.

"So... Sophia has absolutely no interest in you, and you brought her here to make Y/N jealous?" Steve looks at his friend like he has three heads, and Bucky now realizes just how dumb this all looks.

"Well... yeah. This was a bad idea, wasn't it? I should just go take Sophia home-"

"No! You already got this far, and if you do that it might give Y/N the wrong idea. Just- just go with it for the rest of the night and see what happens." Steve says. "Now, let's get the snacks."

Bucky helps him, and they head back into the movie room. He notices your tense form against Natasha. Sophia's making conversation with Sam, and if you were in a cartoon, you're sure there would be steam coming out of your ears.

The movie goes by in a blur, and even though your eyes were glued to the screen, you feel like you didn't even watch the movie. You were too busy being hyperaware of the way Sophia held onto Bucky's arm like if was her lifeline, and quite frankly, you wanted to punch the living daylights out of the both of them.

Once the movie's finished and the lights turn on, you waste no time in heading to your room after a quick goodnight to everyone.

You're getting ready for bed with slams of closet doors and dresser drawers, absolutely enraged with everything. Why was this bothering you so much? But more importantly, how was Bucky so quick to move on? Like you were nothing to him? Like you were the dirt under his shoe?

And although you were too proud to say it, it stung like a motherfucker.

Before you could get ahead of yourself, a knock is coming from your door.

You're sure it's Natasha trying to make sure you're alright, but after months of acting unaffected, all you wanted to do was get under your covers and cry.

"Nat, I'm sorry but I'm really not in the mood-" But when you swung the door open, it was none other than your ex-boyfriend."What the hell are you doing here?"

Your tone was venomous, and all Bucky could see was the tiredness and rage behind your irises.

"I- Can I talk to you?" His voice is timid, like he's afraid to even ask for your time.

"About what? Don't you have someone to tend to?" You wonder out loud, and you can't help the way your heart twists at the thought of Bucky and Sophia. The way he had no problem holding her, touching her, loving her.

"That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about, Y/N."

It even hurt to think that.

"What do you want, Barnes?" You query in an indifferent tone.

"I-I waned to talk to you, alone." He responds, and his palms are sliding down his thighs to wipe off the sweat.

"Don't you have to take your date home?"

He was quiet for a moment, trying to gauge how to handle you right now. One wrong word or move, and he was out.

"Y/N, can I please just talk to you? One night we're sleeping in each others' beds, and the next we're strangers? How- how does that even make sense?" He's trying to make sense of the past few weeks and the events that led up to the demise of your relationship.

He knows, but he doesn't want to say it out loud.

"Well, I wonder who's fault that was?" You ask snarkily.

Apparently, you weren't afraid to say it.

"You were the one that did this. I get it. This was new for you, but at some point, enough was enough! I- I was basically dirt under your shoe, James! I- I couldn't fucking take it anymore! I just- you were so easy with Steve and Natasha. And then you would shake me off like I was some pest, some bug." You choked on your words, tears pricking behind your eyes. You turned away before Bucky could see them, not wanting to let him see you like this.

You've put on a tough front, because you didn't want anyone to think that you'd get so hung up over some boy, but it was hard to do so when you were giving your all into a relationship while you got the bare minimum back.

Bucky watches you from your doorway, and as you turn away, he takes this as a sign to come in and shut the door behind him.

"Y/N, please, let me talk. I-I just need to talk. To get it all out. I'm begging you, please." And beg he did. He was on the floor, quite literally on his knees. You couldn't even comprehend how not even an hour ago, he brought a new girl in.

And now he was on his knees before you. Begging.

"Get up."

Your voice cracked, but it was still strong. You weren't in the mood to have a man beg at your feet, and you felt it was quite pathetic that he was on his knees right now when he's the reason you two had ended up like this.

Whatever this was.

"O-Okay. Does that mean I can talk?" He asks tentatively, rising to his feet slowly.

"You have five minutes."

He was quiet at first, and you wondered if he even had anything to say. If he was just here to waste your time, to cause even more heartache-

"I- Can I just start off by saying, in the almost three months we were together, I never, ever, wanted to make you feel anything less than what you really are. You're kind, caring, beautiful, the smartest person I've ever met. But above all those things, you were patient with me. And that was never something I had before with someone else. No one was as patient and as attentive as you were, and I need you to know." He pauses, catching his breath from his rambling.

"Know what?" Your tone was venomous, trying to hold back the tears prickling behind your eyes.

"That I have dreamt of a girl like you for decades. You are everything-" he chokes on his words, eyes glossing over, "everything I've ever wanted, and more. And I can't tell you how sorry I am for the way I treated you. How I made you feel, and how I felt the need to hide us. I should've just been honest with everyone from the start, and it cost me everything in the end. So I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you, in any way possible. Because you deserve it. You deserve so much better than someone who- who doesn't know how to love. How to hold your hand and not want to cry because he feels like he doesn't deserve it. You deserve the entire universe, Y/N."

Bucky finishes speaking, looking so deeply into your eyes that you can't help but let the facade crack.

Tears are leaking out of the corners of your eyes. You sniffle, trying to take a deep breath.

"Wh-what about... Sophia?" You struggle to ask through your emotions, trying to hold yourself back from flinging yourself into his arms.

"I- She's... not relevant. I met her at a bar the day we... ended things, and she said 'it was clear I was going through a heartbreak,' and that she wanted to help me get you back." Bucky laughs a bit at the whole situation now, and how fucking badly he had fucked up.

"But if you don't want to get back together, I understand. Just know, I still feel the same. But if you give me another chance, I promise you it'll be different. I promise to spend all my time making it up to you, and I don't want to hide anything about us. To anyone." He affirms, moving to hold your hands in his.

And surprisingly, you didn't pull away.

No matter how much your brain was screaming, yelling to pull away!

But you couldn't. You wanted to believe every word that came out of his mouth, and you didn't care if anyone thought you were being naive or stupid. You just wanted to hold him again, to call him James again, and to have him whisper sweet nothings in your ears.

And as all these thoughts were running through your head, you see Bucky slowly backing away, assuming your silence meant you were telling him to leave.

"I-Wait. Wait. We have a- a lot to talk about, but I'm not giving up on us yet. But I want a full explanation, top to bottom about everything. And- you have to promise me things will be different between us. We can't have things like they were before, and-"

And before you could continue your rambles, you were stopped by the feeling of his lips on yours.

You could feel his rough ones moulding against your soft, cherry-flavoured ones from your lip balm. His eyes were closed, and so were yours. Any thoughts you had were thrown out the window, and all you could focus on right now was him.

He was invading all your senses in the best way possible. In this moment, you realized he was being completely honest and truthful in what he'd said earlier. Of course, you wouldn't let him forget about all this so easily, but right now, all that mattered were his hands running all over your waist and neck.

"J-James," you breathed out, disconnecting from him.

His eyes search yours, wondering if this is where you give him the boot, and tell him to leave it at this.

But oh, was he wrong.

"Lock the door for me?"

His mouth is akin to that of a fish out of water, wondering to himself if his brain was conjuring this image in his head after weeks of not having you.

"A-Are you sure? If you don't want to we don't have to-" And now he's the one getting cut off with your lips.

It had been enough suffering for the both of you these past few weeks.

"James, I'm sure. Help a girl out?" You smile coyly, slowly walking backwards until you reach your bed and sit down. Your eyes stay on James' blue ones while he rushes to lock to door.

He's hovering over you, waiting to see if you'll make a move.

"Well, aren't you gonna fuck me?"

At those words, the man above you snaps out of his stupor, and lets out an animalistic growl, lunging at you and making both your bodies fall back onto the fluffy white duvet of your bed.

"Can I take this off of you?" James hands are pinching at the fabric of your t-shirt, and you fervently nod in response.

"Words, honey." He coaxes and receives a meek but clear 'yes' from you.

He wastes no time slipping it off your form, only breaking apart from you for air to do so.

Soon enough, your panting forms were both almost bare, left down to just underwear. James slowly moves to settle himself between your thighs, but your hand catches onto his wrist before he could move any further.

"You don't have to, James. I want you inside me already." Although you usually never complained about getting head, you were aching to feel him inside you.

"C'mon angel, I've missed how your sweet lil' pussy tastes." The words coming out of his mouth combined with the feeling of the small pecks he's placing against your inner thighs have you practically shaking.

Along with his scruff giving the sensitive skin a delicious burn, you couldn't bring yourself to say no to James.

He guides your soaked panties down your legs, placing your calves against his shoulders to hold them open.

"Mmm, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to have my mouth between these legs again, sugar. Missed ya so much." He mumbles to you, licking a broad stripe up your core.

A gasp leaves your mouth, and you scramble to find something to grab onto.

With one hand in his brunet locks, Bucky continues his ministrations. He alternates between using his tongue and sucking on your sensitive button, building up your climax.

James listens to your small gasps and whimpers, paying attention to what brought you the most pleasure.

"Oh!" You let out a whimper at the feeling of Bucky's fingers hitting your sweet spot inside you.

Before you knew it, the throbbing in your heat was spreading all through your body, causing your first earth-shattering orgasm of the night.

You're chanting James over and over again, like a prayer.

"That's it, sweetheart, give it all t'me." He coaxes you through your high, allowing for you to come down.

Your eyes are bleary and you barely sense James coming back up over you. His fingers are opening your mouth, allowing you to taste them.

"Taste yourself, honey. So sweet, missed havin' you." He leaves pecks on your forehead, nose, and cheek, before circling back to your mouth when he pulls his fingers back out.

When he pulls away again, his nose is brushing against yours. You still feel like you're floating, but you open your eyes slowly to be met with his bright cerulean ones.

"You have a condom?" James' voice is gravelly as he speaks against your lips.

"No, I'm clean and still on the pill. Wanna feel all of you." You whisper while your fingers roam through his locks.

"A-Are you sure?" He asks, trying to ignore the involuntary twitch of his cock at your words.

"I'm sure, James. I've never been more sure of doing anything with anyone." You say, letting your hand move down to his boxers.

Your hand dips into the waistband, grasping him with your palm.

"Wanna feel all of this." You barely speak, but he understands every word you say.

Before you know it, his underwear is off and thrown somewhere across the room.

James sits back, running his cock through your juices for lubrication, eliciting a sigh from the both of you.

"Fuck, I missed you so much, doll." He grits out while he pushes into you slowly. "Can't believe I was so stupid and almost lost ya for good."

"I-I'm right here, baby. You won't ever lose me." You reassure him, letting him fill you to the brim.

"God, can't get enough of this tight pussy, baby." James is thrusting at an even pace now, and you can feel every inch of him inside you.

You release moans of ecstacy and pleasure in his ear as he stays above you, and while you're only half-conscious of what you're doing, you grab his metal arm and bring it to your throat.

His eyes shoot open but his pace never falters, looking at you for silent reassurance.

The white-hot feeling in your core builds at the feeling, not wanting it to stop.

"You sure?"

"Yes, please." All he needed was your whimper to moan at the sight of his hand around your throat.

"H-Holy shit. I- Come with me baby, c'mon." His voice is strained, like it's paining him to speak.

"I'm- I'm coming James. Come with me, baby." You gasp out, feeling the stirring in your belly reach its' peak.

Soon enough, you're both coming undone, breathing into each others' mouths while working through your highs together.

You feel him spurting inside you, painting your walls white. His rocking slowly comes to a stop, allowing him to open his eyes and focus on you. Your thumbs are brushing over his cheekbones, soaking in him just being here, with you.

"C'mon, let me get you cleaned up, angel." James slowly pulls out of you, being careful to not hurt you.

You see the light flicker on in your bathroom and hear the sink running. He returns with a rag and brushes it gently between your legs, feeling you shiver at how sensitive you are.

"Sorry, honey." James' whisper comes from below, and you smile down with soft eyes.

You were completely besotted for this man.

Once the rag is thrown into your laundry hamper, Bucky retrieves his boxers and pulls them on.

For a moment, you feel a flash through your body, your heart seizing at the thought of him leaving now.

"A-Are you leaving?" You barely recognize your own voice, feeling pathetic for feeling so vulnerable.

Bucky just looks at you. He's dumbfounded at you right now. How could you think that after everything, especially after what had just happened, that he would leave you. How he could ever let you go again.

And again, the question is just another painful reminder of how much he's hurt you.

"No, sweetheart. Just wanted to grab a shirt for you to sleep in." He gives you a soft smile, quenching the ache of your heart.

Once he sits you up and slips the large shirt over your frame, he slips back into his spot next to you under the duvet. Your legs immediately tangle with his, head on his shoulder and arm thrown across his torso.

"Never gonna let you go again, honey." He tells you, placing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Love you, James." You mumble in a half-asleep response into his chest, the words reverberating into his skin.

Bucky hopes you don't feel his heart racing, but replies with the same words that you hear before slipping into a deep slumber. And the last thing you hear before you slip under are the sweetest words to ever be spoken.

"I love you more, Y/N."

[mosaicc-brokenn-heartss]

- aesthetic playlists for specific moods -

r e s e t  &  d e t o x for days where you need to clear your head, heart, mind and soul. move on. welcome the growth and treasure the warmest parts of the past. slow down and breathe.

hanging out with myself when you're on your own, in your own space, with your own thoughts and alternating between being okay with that and not.

summer lovin’ how it feels to be in love with someone in the endless days of heat.

to the seaside salt, sand, sea. you and me. the air is easier to breathe here. 

"in love with my future" for manifesting and holding onto hope for the idealised dream of being independent, happy and stable

green fingers 🌿 a playlist for gardening, planting and watering my plants... to help them grow, feel loved and safe.

what if we hold hands and lay in a field of wild flowers? (plural noun): a flower of an uncultivated variety or a flower growing freely without human intervention. // romantic picnic bitch energy - for getting lost in the long grass and making daisy chains. a blanket. a basket. a nice book. wearing a sundress. a warm breeze.

little adventures for all of life's mini adventures: supermarket trips, museums, getting lost in the countryside, taking detours, walking down quiet streets... climbing, exploring, taking it all in.

young, free and in love with your friends you'll never be this young again. you are free to be whoever you need to be. you can explore. you're filled with premature nostalgia for the moments you are currently living. you love the things and people around you with all of your being. 

your eyes meet across the room you've never seen them before and don't know their name but you want to find out every secret they've ever had. you'd spend the rest of the night at their side. the colour of their eyes is your new favourite shade.

sunset songs tunes for when the sun goes down. time to unwind and process the day.

up to the roof let's climb up as high as this city can take us and look down at the world beneath us. let's remember how small we are and find some comfort in it.

the days when the sadness is quiet it's never gone, not really, but some days your heart feels overwhelmingly lighter, you feel at ease with the hurt and it's easier to breathe. you feel back in your body, brought back to life again.

classics that make me feel something songs you can't remember actually learning the lyrics to, that set your soul on fire.

political angst make your voice heard. fight with everything you have. don’t let them stop your power.

you + me in the backseat in the backseat of the car. your soundtrack drowns out anything but your feelings. fire burns inside you.

memory lane walking hand in hand through the past. shattered fragments of your old self are lodged into your palms. reminders of things you tried to forget haunt you. the nostalgia comes in like a fog. 

not me, dissociating staring into space or back at yourself in the mirror. doubting everything you know. wondering how you'll ever have the strength to rejoin the world around you.

under the stars come sit with me. we'll trace constellations in the sky.

we’re driving and your hand is on my knee the wind is in your hair. the streets are empty. the radio is too loud. all you know is that you're in love with the person in the seat beside you. 

stay close to me for the kind of love you hope stays forever. for the kind of love you never want to put down. 

oh no, i’m in love the penny has dropped. you don’t know how to hold it in. everything feels brighter now. 

slow mornings with you warmth seeping through the curtains. knowing you have nowhere to be. before toothpaste. stillness. contentment. being with your person.

the end of the world the sun is rising over the hill for the last time. you don't have enough hands to hold everyone. all of the hate you once had doesn't matter anymore. you cling onto the memories and take a deep breath.

it’s 2am and i’m thinking about the good and bad i should probably sleep.

slow dancing in the kitchen barefoot in the kitchen, swaying with hips pressed together, noses brushing, comforted by each other's laughs, soft singing voices and declarations of happiness at being close to the other person.

goodbye to us you're unsure how or why you got here, but now it's over and you can't stop feeling. your heart aches. your head is heavy. you can't bear to move.

longing for escape take my hand. we’ve been stuck for too long. let's get out of this town. we won't look back.

rainy daze rainy days and mondays always get me down

eiffel for you a paris summer. you drink coffee and eat a pastry at a café on the seine. beautiful women and couples in love stroll by. the air is crisp and sweet.

eternal (adjective: eternal; noun: Eternal): lasting or existing forever; without end.

ethereal goddess shit 🌙 pov: you are an ethereal goddess and everything you touch and embody is magic.

academia forever for memories of university days and cathedral views.

new city, big dreams a place just for you. boxes of your past life surround you. a new life awaiting. your look out at the city. it's been waiting for you.

bookstore full of dust and secrets bibliophile (noun): a person who collects or has a great love of books.

hometown nostalgia you know every street corner. you remember everything and everyone you loved here.

i'd do it all over again a million times over without regret.

sneaking out to meet you at midnight the thrill of climbing out the window, making you way to your secret hiding place and having a person to pour all your romanticism into waiting for you. 

coffee breath you can tell a lot about a person from the way they take their coffee.

let’s drink wine and feel things 🍷 songs for late night wine drunk dancing, tears and feelings. 

touch starved for when you just really need to be touched.

seething for slamming doors and punching walls. when your blood boils. when you need to be alone.

[poptod]

Cyber Security (Elliot Alderson)

Description: An online ad leads him to you, though in reality he has little interest in your ad. What interests him is how you accidentally doxxed yourself and how oblivious you are to that fact.

Notes: idrk what to say about this one its one of those things that i wrote at midnight after almost falling asleep to a fantasy and then realizing it could work as a fic. like i did this same thing with ‘close your eyes’ that one was also a before-bed-to-get-to-sleep fantasy. this is also not a particularly romantic interaction, though it can be read as such WC: 2.2k

+

Sweat drenched his sheets, bathing him in the cold wind that breezed past his only air conditioner lodged in a nearby window. He stared blankly upwards, half shivering and half overheated, as he once again found himself in a familiar predicament—the practice of sleep.

It was no secret he had trouble calming himself down, and that aspect of himself reached into the evening, as well. He already downed three melatonin pills hours earlier, along with smoking a joint that should’ve put him to bed. Unsurprisingly, that did not work.

“Xanax,” he mumbled to himself, hearing it bounce back from empty walls. “Need to get xanax.”

In the meantime he raised himself to his feet, padding across freezing floors to his computer. With a click of a button the white screen buzzed to life, shining bright onto his sleep-heavy eyes, that did their best to acclimatize to the sudden change.

Hypnotization—strange as it might’ve been—had worked a couple times before. Not all the time, but decently enough to give it a try. He had work in the morning and he didn’t need to be more miserable than usual, especially since he hadn’t slept almost the entire weekend.

sleep hypnosis

The blinker flickered for a moment before his fourth finger slammed down on enter, the last step in calculated movements. What popped up first was a video titled [ SLEEP HYPNOSIS ] 8 Hour Loop with a screencap of a spinning black and white screen. Below that, however, was something he hadn’t seen before—a YouTube video titled exactly what he’d typed, lacking the caps just as he had. The title screen appeared to be some sort of poorly-drawn painting.

Curiosity overcame his hazy, aching head, and he clicked, finding a playlist of videos containing what could be the titles of songs, along with several different poorly-drawn title screens.

The first video began to play before he could realize it. What he first noticed was it was bereft of ads—that meant the publisher made no money off the album.

Sat in the presence of God

whose name means filthy old fraud

Captions had been manually added by, he assumed, you. The author. There were three views on the video, no comments, and no likes, leaving few other options.

Maybe it was the melody—maybe the lyrics, who talked of a world plagued by aristocrats. But he found his eyelids heavy, dropping dark eyelashes in his vision that blurred the screen. By the third song, reciting verses of an Islamic poem, he was slouched in his seat.

He slid down to the floor, crawling his way back to flop onto his bed. The music continued to play till the first ad popped up, at which time he opened his eyes, seeing a music video from Katy Perry, at which time he promptly reached over and unplugged his computer. He wasn’t sure which cord he pulled out, but the screen still went black. With that, he just barely sneaked into his covers, dozing until the morning.

It was far too easy to get information on you. Your full name was stated clearly in your youtube bio, alongside several different social media tags leading to instagram, tumblr, and facebook.

Facebook alone provided him the means to your address, and he didn’t even have to go looking for it. Your most recent post was an ad, searching for someone good with computers to aid you in your recording process, which you noted as ‘dismal’.

Are you fucking kidding me? He thought to himself, reading the ad once more.

Your address, your real, physical address was stated as the place you wanted to meet those interested in helping you. On the internet. You had doxxed yourself after less than a year of being online.

Okay, he thought, clicking on your listed email. Someone needs to be taught a lesson.

Three days later—after about two weeks of listening to your echoing voice every night—you replied, sending a cheerful email detailing when you would be available to meet him. After shooting a short message back, the date was organized.

Two more days and he was standing at your doorstep, his neck craned upwards as he scanned your tall, narrow home squished between two other apartments. He just barely knocked before the black door swung open, revealing a familiar face belonging to a stranger. Elliot was dressed in his black hoodie and jeans, a stark difference to your long, colorful robes, coming out of a sort of fantasy world.

“Hi,” he said, his voice grating with how low and quiet he kept it.

“Hello,” you said with a smile that did not match his hunched posture. “Are you Mr. Alderson?”

“Elliot,” he corrected, his chin just barely raising to meet you. “Elliot Alderson. Elliot works.”

“Alright,” you said, nodding. “Come inside? I was just making tea. Do you like tea? Or do you prefer coffee?”

“I... I’m fine, thanks,” he said softly, scooting past you when you opened the door wide enough for him to enter. He sucked in a breath as his chest brushed yours.

Your home was modern—far fancier than Elliot’s own apartment, with large windows flanked by soft grey curtains. A small, upright piano was in the corner of the living room, set upon a reed mat lined with Korean symbols. The couch was clinical, made of a sort of black plastic leather that matched the grey skies beyond the window panes.

He sat down, shifting his feet closer together as his fingers dug into his palms, continuing to scan the room in its’ entirety until you returned with your own tea.

“What kind of experience do you have? School counts,” you said, setting your cup down on a tiny plate whose decorations matched your teacup.

“I’ve been... experimenting, with computers, since I was around 9,” he said, mumbling the words out as his shoulders hunched awkwardly down. “Have a job at a cyber security firm. Started a while back.”

“You still have that job?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod. “Jus’ thought this would be... fun.”

The dead look on his face indicated no humor whatsoever, but you took his word as it was.

“How’d you find the ad I put out?”

“I... I listened to your music,” he answered honestly for once. “Helps me fall asleep.”

“Oh,” you said, clearly taken aback. Your face grew warm as you glanced away with wide eyes. “I’m glad I could help.”

“You’re not very good with technology, though,” he said in his usual low, grating voice.

“Not really,” you chuckled sheepishly. “That’s why I put out the ad -“

“No, not that,” he interrupted you. “You put your physical address on the internet. You doxxed yourself. Do you even know how dangerous that is?”

The lyrics of your songs pointed towards a kind of brilliance, balanced against emotions felt thoroughly on pages and screens. It didn’t match your actions at all.

“What’s doxxing?” You asked.

Elliot had to physically stop himself from sighing and leaving.

“You want everyone to know where you, a minor celebrity, live?”

“I’d hardly call myself a -“

“I could’ve been a murderer,” he said, reaching into his bag.

He looked you in the eye as he pulled out a gun, clicking on the safety before he pointed it at you.

“This is how easy it would be to kill you.”

As expected, you stiffened at the sight of the iron barrel, your fingers withdrawing to your chest. Your lips pursed as you met his gaze once more.

“Please put the gun down,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He did as you said, resting the gun on the table.

“That’s a hell of a way to start an interview, Mr. Alderson,” you said quietly. “Please get out of my house.”

His heart sank. What had he expected? For you to fall to your knees and sing to him as he desired you to do? He threatened you with a gun to teach you a lesson, and you reacted accordingly. Calmer than others would.

Elliot stood on shaky legs, sliding the pistol into his backpack before he zipped it up. Throwing the pack over his shoulder, he swallowed through a tight throat, shuffling as he delayed his departure.

“Keep safe from people like me,” he said in a strained mumble. “Take that ad down. Meet people from the internet only in inhabited, public areas.”

You tapped your fingernails on the table for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip. Suddenly you stood, tugging on his sweatshirt sleeve to get him to face you, instead of staring at his feet.

“Alright. If you’re really so good at the internet -“

He ignored your incorrect grammar.

“- and... if you actually do want to help me with my songs,” your tone softened, “then you’ll be able to find my real name, not my stage name. If you do.. I’ll hire you.”

“Alright,” he said monotone, knowing the battle was already won.

Even though he knew your name already, he turned away and left to his apartment, immediately going to work on figuring out everything he could about you. If you willingly still offered him the job after that, he knew it would take a lot to scare you off. He could impress you.

It was, after all, the only thing he was good at.

Two days later he showed up at your apartment again, quietly thanking you when you let him in. The clean floors and walls remained unchanged since his last visit, and you led him to the same table, sitting him down on the same seat.

“Your name is (Y/N) (L/N),” he started with. You already appeared to be surprise. “You grew up near LA and you’ve had a chronic illness all your life. At eleven you saw your first therapist.. that must’ve been when you first got diagnosed with depression... and anxiety.”

“Killer duo,” you muttered.

“Your parents split when you were thirteen, which came at the same time as your dog, Penelope, died. Or... sometime that year. When was that... 1997?”

“1999,” you said quietly.

“Your mom homeschooled you,” he continued. “That’s probably why you don’t know how computers work. Rather eclectic, in a.. boring way... an ex-Amish, right?”

You nodded and his heartbeat tripled. Everything was right thus far despite a two year difference in his guesstimate of your life’s timeline.

“Then there was your dad... logger in the Redwood forests. Burly guy. Not a great man, from what I saw,” he said.

“He was fine,” you said with a small shrug as you looked away. “Didn’t ever hurt me, or anything.”

“Abuse isn’t always physical,” he said faster than he could think, dizzied by his own memories playing behind his eyes.

“I know,” you murmured.

You went silent, so he continued, hoping to pry more precious words from you.

“Your favorite color is yellow,” he said, leaning closer to you. “On Valentine’s you get chocolate strawberries, and on easter you get kinder eggs.”

Nothing.

“You studied mythology as a kid, and you made paintings of the forest you lived in with your mom. Santa Cruz mountains, I think.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I miss the forests.”

“I know. You want to visit Ireland again because it’s a land of faeries and moss, it’s a breeding ground for your song lyrics.”

“How did you find all this out?” You finally asked.

“You use the same password on everything,” he said, though that was far from the actual answer. “Your web browser tracks all your movements and you don’t try to stop it, or hide ads, or stay away from sketchy websites. Your parents aren’t much better, either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you brought your hand to massage your brow.

“You’re way too smart to be helping me,” you said with soft laughter, blushing with your smile.

“It’s better than working for E Corp,” he said, huffing out a laugh that was hardly humored.

“E corp?”

“My.. uh, place of work,” he brushed off his slip. “My point is... I’d rather work with you and do easy work than work with my current fucking coworkers.”

You laughed, truly and fully this time, curling into a little ball that shook with the force of it. Your feet tucked into your tiny chair, making you even smaller.

“Bad people or just annoying?”

“Stupid,” he chuckled. “Don’t let me wear my sweatshirt.”

“Ooh, now it’s my turn,” you suddenly interrupted him, earning a strange look. “I’ve noticed things about you, too. I couldn’t learn anything off the computer, but you, you have anxiety too. Probably some childhood trauma.. maybe a dissociative disorder of sorts or a form of PTSD. Your jacket is like your home, and... you have sensory issues. Few types of fabric, don’t like to be touched, if I had to guess I’d say you might be autistic.”

“Blunt,” he said after a full minute’s silence.

“Do you mind?” You asked.

“No, not really.”

“Good. Then you’re hired,” you said with a smile, extending your hand for him to shake. “If you still want the job, of course.”

He watched you with evident apprehension, but took your hand after much thought, shaking with a firm grip.

“When do I start?”

[deluluass]

all yours; all mine

71 and 58 with Atsumu pleaseeese. I just love this man and I would appreciate it if you wrote something with him. Youre so talented!💕 — anon

sidenote: anon, i hope u know that u have a very special place in my heart for being the first ask ive ever received. i hope u are well & having a gr8 day ;U;

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; daddy kink; mild angst; implied post-breakup depression; toxic relationship/s

Breakups are a messy business. A lot of crying, begging, screaming (if it's that type of a breakup). Whatever it is, breakups generally inspire intense— so-intense-it-could-get-you-kicked-out-if-you're-in-a-public-place, high-strung, and the most unpleasant kind of emotions. 

It’s understandable, considering you’re losing the person you love. 

But he doesn't even look upset.

"Aah," Atsumu sing-songed, twirling the plastic stirrer between his fingers. "Ya wanna call it off?"

The heat from the mug bit your skin as you gripped it. 

"What?" you choked, shaking your head. "I didn't say that, Atsumu. I only-"

He scoffed. "Fuckin'- ya just did."

You finally looked up at him, porcelain clinking as you placed your drink back on the saucer. Ball cap on,  muscles filling up and straining his hoodie and jeans; even in an outfit that almost concealed him he never fails to take your breath away. 

Only, it's for a different reason this time.

"I said that I-" you cleared your throat. "I want- I want you to-"

"I get it, I get it." Atsumu sighed, waving his hand nonchalantly. "Let's break up, then."

He was already standing up and he didn't even deign to meet your eyes. You didn't expect much when you'd travelled all the way to Tokyo just to have a talk with him. After all, the last conversation you had was over the phone. (And that, too, did not go well). 

Though, is it too much to expect he'd at least listen to what you have to say?

"Tsumu-kun! Wait!" 

Some customers were already staring, urging you to hide, hop on the next train, and run back home; away from the cold scrutiny of strangers. 

But not now. Not when what you have with him is hanging on a balance.

"Please, sit down and- and let's talk," you huffed, voice and hand trembling as you held onto his.

Breakups are a messy business, you heard.

A lot of crying. A lot of begging. A lot of screaming. Whichever kind it is, don't breakups usually inspire only the most intense emotions?

But he doesn't even look upset, doesn't even look like he feels anything other than a passing irritation, as if you were a fly buzzing in his ear, when he told you, "I know this is ya first rodeo, but yer gonna find someone new eventually, hm?"

It's been a long time coming, Atsumu thinks. He'd known for quite a while now that his relationship with you would end, actually, ever since you'd wanted to include "feelings" and "trust" and "opening up" into the mix. 

"Why?" he'd laughed at your face once. "What? Ya ain't happy? That it? We got somethin' good goin' on don't we?"

He didn't get it, at first. You'd always been your cheerful, bubbly self; never failing to be that one sunny spot when his day gets too pesky and such a pain in the ass. You were happy.

Until you weren't. 

"You don't.. tell me things," you muttered, fiddling with your hands on the kitchen table. "Which is fine! I'm not- go at your pace, but- but know that I'd listen to you. Always. I'm here, 'Tsumu."

And it wasn't as if he didn't try. It's just that Atsumu realized, a few months later, that he wasn't any good at it. 

Every time he'd lay it all out in front of you⁠— every tiny and pathetic and gritty part of him, you would eventually take him in your arms. So much smaller, weaker than his and yet Atsumu did not mind if it could be his entire world. 

Then, a thought would creep in, like a thief that'd stab him in his sleep. In the safety of those tender arms, with those guileless eyes peering at him, Atsumu would think that he'd rather stay there forever, cling onto you until he bites the dust.  

It disgusted him. 

Atsumu couldn't stand it. Because if he could be anything in this short life, he'd choose to be perfect. And that- that wasn't it. 

So he avoided it when the occasion arose. Diverting the subject to mundane stuff was easy, at first. The weather, the new show you're binging, your slacker of a boss, what happened back in the game. When that didn't work⁠— well, there were other ways. 

(His favorite was sticking his tongue in your wet cunt, to prod at the soft walls with the tip, and to lap and suck at the clit until you're begging for the stretch of his fat cock.)

The break up was understandable. When you'd greeted him in the café as if you'd spent the entire time you were apart crying, Atsumu knew it was over. 

You just repeated what you'd always said. It's okay to be vulnerable. If he needs some time to work out the right words then you'd always wait because I love you, 'Tsumu. 

(But there was that feeling again. Like he could die on the spot if you would so much as leave his sight.)

(Ending it was the only way out. When poison seeps itself into the bloodstream, you're left with no choice but to cut off a part of you.)

Unlike others, he can say that it was a clean parting. You wanted something and he was bad at it. And because he hated fucking up, Atsumu decided to leave. Easy. 

Really, the only people who didn't understand were his teammates.

"That's strange," Hinata spat, rice bursting to his chin when he suddenly faced Atsumu. "I don't think I've seen her for weeks now."

He could hear barely suppressed groans  behind him, no doubt from Bokuto and the others, before their spiker blurted out a confused, "What?"

Because, of course, Hinata could only mean one "her.” (There had only ever been one that Atsumu Miya allowed inside the team's gymnasium; inside his circle of friends; inside his life.)

Apparently, except for Hinata Shoyo, everyone had caught on that the both of you had thrown in the towel, so to speak. (And here they thought the guy's finally in it for real.)

"Nah, it's fine," Atsumu smirked, addressing it to everyone gathered around Samu's onigiri stand.  

"We broke up." 

He clicked his tongue. "It's not like there ain't no other fish in the sea."

The remark, casually said in between sips of cold coffee, was met with a gaping silence. 

That turned out to be right, like everything else that he'd predicted. 

A hole is a hole is a hole is a hole. No disrespect meant to you. But before you there had been many others who'd helped warm his bed. It just so happened that you got to stay for far longer. 

(Because waking up next to you meant waking up to that dreamy look, as if whoever's in charge up there has finally given you everything you've ever wanted.)

(And when he greets you with a hoarse good morning you say it back with eyes that tell him he's worth it, simply for being there.)

Anyway, going back to that old routine hadn't been difficult. 

(Except when he finally does it with someone new, for some reason he keeps searching for a different touch, expecting that endearing combination of inexperience and enthusiasm.)

(And when they cum he can't help but put a hand on their mouth, around their throat, because he's hearing the wrong voice, seeing the wrong face.) 

It's obvious, looking at him. Everyone can see that life's going pretty well for Atsumu. He can only hope that the same goes for you.

"You're miserable."

Peeling your attention away from the mother braiding her young daughter's hair, you hurriedly brought it back to the two women sitting in front of you.

"See?" Aya swung her hand in your direction. "Not even listening."

"No, no," you giggled sheepishly. Kaori was already pursing her lips.

"No, seriously. I am."

You sat upright, setting the chopsticks on your bento box. 

"Then what was it she said?" Kaori pressed. She folded her arms and you knew you were in trouble. 

"Uh..huh." You nodded. "Right. So. Um...."

"You didn't catch it," said Kaori.

"I didn't catch it," you winced.

Both girls sighed. 

The first three buttons of their blouses were open, the heat of the afternoon getting to them. And as they leaned back against the wooden bench, you had a feeling that they were about to give you the Conversation that's been waiting to happen for two long months.

That's why you'd decided to start it before they could. Just so it won't linger anymore painfully so.

“I know what you're going to say."

They only raised their brows, a mere "okay, go on" than an actual expression of surprise. 

"I've been sad. I haven't been..fine. That is true," you inhaled, preparing yourself for the agonizing part. Then, you released your breath.

"Ever since..'Tsu-" you gulped. "Ever since breaking up with Atsumu I haven't been feeling like myself but nowadays I'm getting back on my feet and I'm still working see so really there's no need to worry okay? Okay."

Aya grinned, but it didn't hold her usual devil-may-care humor to it. 

"You say that," she started, "but we’ll probably always be if you keep at that- at that⁠—"

"You're rarely in the moment," Kaori supplied, to which Aya replied with a harsh thank you. "You're distracted. And we know you're trying your best to be okay on your own. We've given you space, but remember that you have us."

Something was lodged in your chest and you found it hard to breathe. You'd missed them. You hadn't realized it, but you missed your friends. 

So much.

"Thank you," you whispered, forcing back  tears. "I- I wouldn't know what to do if it not for you two-"

"Hold it." Aya raised a palm. "Before you get corny again. Can I just say, I know he's your first dick-"

"Aya," Kaori murmured.

"And we all know it was good-"

"Aya," you hissed.

Your face burned as you searched from left to right, making sure no innocent being heard her.

"But can I just say," she slapped a palm on the surface of the table. "I don't care what you or the TV or his fans say about him! But the man's a walking red flag since day one!"

Kaori rolled her eyes. And despite yourself you couldn't keep a chuckle from bubbling. 

"Here we go again."

Aya almost rose from her seat. "When he sent that poor dude from accounting to the ER for just, I don't know, breathing your way, I knew something was up!"

You felt your smile die. 

That had been the first time it happened. You'd asked him what's wrong, after you'd rushed to the hospital, and all he gave you was silence. A whole day of it. He hadn't spoken a word about it, only that he'd warned you not to talk to that bastard again, or else.

(You'd learned, much, much later, that he doesn't do well with people that annoy him. That's what he said. You wanted to know more, but he suddenly decided that he had to make it up to you between the sheets.)

Kaori touched your hand. "Talk to us," she whispered.

You hummed as you shook your head. "I just remembered him," you said, only half of the truth.

If they knew it, they didn't let on. But Aya did say, "Tell you what. Company outing's upon us. So you know what that means?"

"Oh, I don't know," you mumbled apologetically. "I might sit this one out."

"No," Kaori gritted. 

Aya held your face with both hands as she  stared you down.

"You will buy yourself a new swimsuit. You will enjoy that cheap beach resort." 

The heaviness was lifting, bit by bit, as you felt your stomach ache with laughter. And with each silly word uttered by your friends, you could almost see the gray clouds overhead disappearing. Even for a little while.

"And you, you beautiful person you," Aya beamed. "Will finally, finally get laid."

Having best friends who are dead set on helping you get over an ex is a fearsome thing to behold, indeed. 

You couldn't even get a word in edgewise as they took you in a whirlwind of spas, salons, mani-pedis, and shopping bags. 

"Calm down. You rarely spend for yourself," Kaori told you when she'd caught you peeking forlornly at the frightening bill you'd amassed. 

But, try as you might to miss owning a fat wallet, you couldn't deny that you have no regrets wasting your money away. Not even for a single cent. Because you did feel amazing.

And when the day arrived, you couldn't help at the giddiness of having compliment after compliment thrown your way. 

"Is that really you?" said a co-worker when you'd boarded the bus. "You're glowing!"

During the games, as well, you'd often hear "Love the new look!" and "Have I ever told you before that you're so pretty? Because you are." And you'd preen with a soft-spoken thank you, having been taught by Kaori that denying a compliment makes one look stupid.  

It was so silly, honestly. Though not the part where, after a lovely comment, you'd be emboldened to strike an actual conversation. Learning that a coworker has a new baby now, or that so and so has recently moved up the corporate ladder; learning that, during your period of grief and self-pity (and even during the blissful time you’d spent with Atsumu), there were so many things you hadn't noticed.

You basked in it: the shower of pleasantries and anecdotes that had you feeling soft and fuzzy inside. The same way you lazed on the sandbar, clutching tiny conch shells in your hand, as you watched the sun tinge the sparkling waves with warm light.   

"Hey."

You jolted, turning towards the person who'd called your name. It was him. "Poor dude from accounting" as Aya dubbed him.

"Sano-san," you gasped, reaching for the towel beside you to cover up. "How- how are you?" 

Of all the people in your office, he was the last one you wanted to see. Solely for the reason that things have been awkward between you ever since that incident. A working relationship characterized by the literal turning of the other cheek whenever you two bumped into each other.

"Oh, pardon me," he scratched the back of his head. "Do you..want me to go?"

Yes. 

"No..!" you blurted out. "I think-"

The sun was almost setting. You wrapped the towel around you as you took in the balmy sea breeze. 

"I think I'm done hiding," you whispered, meeting his gaze for the first time in a long while, head on and baring the tiniest hint of shame, like how you did with your friends and other coworkers.

He didn't say anything, allowing you to continue. "I- It's nice. Talking to people again," you giggled. "Look, Sano-san. About before, I'm really sor-"

"Actually," he smiled. "That's why I'm here. Well, my partner pushed me but-"

You grinned at the blush that rose to his cheeks. 

"But I wanted to tell you: No hard feelings."

Sano-san extended a hand. You stared at it for a few seconds. His hand, then his face. Back to his hand, then his face again. And when you'd finally accepted it, it felt like witnessing the cage that’s imprisoned you for centuries finally open.

"By the way," he added, walking back towards an obviously amused fianceé. "It's a good look on you, being happy."

Atsumu entertained the possibility that maybe— just maybe, not everything was  fine the night the Jackals went home after an overseas tournament.

As soon as the plane landed on Japanese soil, the hunger he felt throughout the journey morphed into some kind of  anticipation, palpable through the thrill that electrified him into wakefulness. He might have left in a hurry, only half of his mind present when the Coach ordered for a short meeting. 

His foot tapped endlessly on the way⁠— while in the car; during the tedious elevator ride⁠— and when he'd finally entered his pad, slamming the door open with much eagerness than usual, Atsumu felt his heart plummet down his stomach when he was welcomed by a dark and empty hallway. 

You're not here. Not anymore.

Hasn't it been almost half a year now? Why did he expect you, face brightened by a grin that went from ear to ear, to materialize in front of him, with the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen? As if a magician with a hat trick.   

("Welcome back!" he was aching to hear.)

(You always insisted on eating with him when he got home; sometimes opting to just stay by his side⁠— munching on a midnight snack while you babbled on, if he arrived later than usual and you'd already had dinner.)

("It's lonely having a meal on your own," you explained. "Don't you think food tastes better if you have someone with you?")

Perhaps it was the jet lag. Or, it could be that the abrupt change in time zones was starting to mess with his head. Either way, Atsumu was sure that sleep would eventually cure him of the momentary delirium. 

But then he woke up the next day feeling like someone had pissed in his morning drink. The day after that, too. Even the next had been the same, persisting onto the following weeks. 

Until one game, after a winning streak that had the crowd chanting their names and with blood still roaring in his veins, he condescended to survey the numerous people occupying the bleachers. 

And when he couldn't find one⁠— one person that had always stood out to him despite being constantly drowned in an ocean of spectators— it was only then that Atsumu Miya decided that enough was enough. 

You hadn't really agreed with Aya when she told you that you'd be getting "laid" during this short vacation. 

Reason number one: it's a company outing. And you're sure you'd be breaking some protocols by fooling around with any of your coworkers. Reason Two: as you'd sagely imparted to a miffed Aya, "I don't think it's nice to cure a broken heart with sex; strings attached or no."

That being said, the lingerie she'd chosen for you did flatter your figure. It didn't matter that "no one would see it," as Aya grumbled. It was enough for you that you yourself saw it, you thought as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror. 

The way it was tailored made it seem like it was made just for your body. The details of lace also made it look so pretty that you felt kind of sad that you'd have to cover it up with a summer dress soon. 

Nevertheless, you allowed yourself to strike a few poses in front of the mirror; feeling like a teenager on their first date as you admired how you looked in it. 

You smiled to yourself, humming a tune, before you opened your makeup kit and prepared the necessities you'd be bringing for the bonfire dinner. 

"Wipes: check," you murmured, rummaging through your bag. "Hygiene stuff. Where are you hygiene stuff, hygiene stu⁠—"

You froze.

Something rustled. Outside. As if something had moved. 

Putting a robe back on, your heart thundered against your chest as you stepped out of the bathroom and into the dimly lit sleeping area, illuminated only by a small reading lamp.

"Be careful there, girlie," the old caretaker warned as she guided you to this room. "Lots of mean spirits lurking about."

You didn't believe in ghosts. For some reason, however, your coworkers did. So you'd taken it to yourself to move here after a room assignment mishap, leaving Aya and Kaori behind. 

It didn't seem like the cursed chamber that she purported to be. Sure, it was isolated at the furthest wing of the beach house, away from the other rooms and separated by a too dark hallway. But that had been the creepiest thing about it. Besides, you heard from logistics that renting the house didn't cost much, despite its size, so maybe it's just that they lacked the resources to renovate. 

The floorboards creaked beneath you. "Aya? Aya, I know it's you," you called out as you squinted, catching a faint silhouette reclined at the corner of the bed. 

It was too large to be Aya, but you chalked that up to the shadows playing with your eyes. You puffed out a chortle, resting a hand on your hips when she finally stood.   

"Very funny, Aya," you snorted when she sauntered towards you. "Just you wait until Kaori hears about.…" you trailed off.

"......this."

You drew in a breath as she moved closer, revealing a build that was much taller, towering almost in the small room, shoulders that are way broader than the ones your friend has, and a face that clearly wasn't Aya's.

"Evenin'," Atsumu yawned. 

Your legs refused to listen to you.

"Been a minute, hadn't it, darlin'?"

You don't know why he's here. 

And even if you wanted to ask, you find that no sound could escape from your mouth when you tried to open it.

You do know this, as he gave you a lopsided grin that used to have you eating at the palm of his hand, along with a lazy gaze that was belied by a bird-like focus:

That although he told you that all he wants is a little chat, you knew that he didn't come here just for that.

You ran.

Atsumu had been the worst boyfriend.

He's aware of it now, realized it fully when he knocked on Samu's door, shit-faced, and it only took a single look and a consoling arm from his brother to break Atsumu into tears and snot, as well as Samu's voice telling him, "Yer a big baby. Ya need her, dontcha?"

That's why he followed you here, figuring that you'd love a thoughtful surprise. Because you always have. He didn't expect you'd take to it kindly, of course, not right away. But he also didn't expect that you would be doing the surprising.

You were talking to that man when he arrived. 

Didn't he tell you not to?

His intentions still haven't changed. He's here to bring you back, but before anything else Atsumu's sure it's only normal that you guys clear things up first. 

And if you're going to do that, he can't have you running away now, can't he?

Grabbing you by the waist, Atsumu's palm tingled at the feel of your body, pulling you closer to him as he pinned you to the wall and stifled your shrieks with his hand.

"Everybody's gone, angel," he whispered, losing himself in your skin, though covered in silk; lips and fingers roaming every which way because finally, finally, fuckin' finally you're here and you're real.

"Just wanna talk." He stroked the curve of your ass, middle finger tracing the lining of the crack. "Ain't this what'ya always wanted? S'let's talk," he murmured against your collarbone.

You were already crying, shaky hands weakly grasping his back and tears wetting even his cheeks. Atsumu couldn't help but smile. You'd always been a crier. It's one of the many things he loves about you. Always so honest with your emotions.

"I missed ya," Atsumu groaned as he grinded his cock against your pussy, feeling it harden when he mouthed your tits.

There was something peeking out of your robe, he noticed as it became more rumpled. 

"D-don't," you breathed, your attempt to swat his hands away thwarted when he seized your wrist.

It was lace. The color pulling the eye to your body like a siren's song. And when he stripped the robe off of you, silk swishing down your elbows, Atsumu saw that it was a piece of lingerie. One that he hasn't seen before.

Because he didn't buy this one. It wasn't from him. You weren't the type to get one yourself. 

Until now.

"This for him?" he murmured, pressing a kiss against your pulse, beating like a drum against his lips. 

"Wh-who?" you whimpered.

"The ugly piece of shit. Saw you guys gettin' chummy earlier."

He was close, too close to you, back at the beach. You smiled at him, laughed and showed him what he isn't supposed to see. And when he touched you— when the fucker touched you, Atsumu wanted blood on his hands.

"Yer gonna fuck the guy whose face I busted?" 

You squeaked as he dug his blunt nails against your wrist. Atsumu licked the red impressions they made.

"And what- what about it?" Your voice was so brittle and small. God, he just wanted to hold you. "It's none of your business, who I spend my time with. And don't- don't tell me you're jealous because-"

He chuckled, the sound of it making you shrink back into the wall. "Jealous? Doll, ya wouldn't wanna know what I'm feelin right now. But, sure." Atsumu lightly nipped at the tips of your fingers. 

"'Course I'm jealous," he rasped. "You're mine."

Then, Atsumu looked at you. And what he saw in your eyes made him stumble that when you shoved him away, all he could do was stand and stare.

"I'm not your thing, Atsumu," you cried. A light-year difference from the girl who'd always stare at him so tenderly. "I never was and I never will be. I'm not yours."

You didn't run this time. You should've. 

Atsumu clenched his jaw. "Like hell ya ain't," he snarled.

People say that breakups are a messy business. Atsumu was so sure he wouldn't have to endure that, before he met you.  Now that he's had the experience, though, Atsumu can say with confidence that breakups are, in fact, a goddamn mess.

But you're over that now. It's time to turn over a new leaf and return to one another. And Atsumu's finding out, in the process, that making up can be astonishingly reminiscent of the breakup.

You started crying when you woke up, screaming for help as you tried to budge the rope that was tying your hands to your knees. You got louder when you found out that you were naked and not in the rickety confines of the beach house. 

"Welcome home, baby," he beamed, eying you from between your legs. 

The begging started when you realized how drenched your little pussy was, his tongue lapping and slathering the cum dripping from your twitching hole, against  your swollen folds; his calloused thumb massaging deep circles on your clit. 

And when he stuck another inside your puckered asshole, you writhed out of your binds and squealed, "T-tsumu-kun…!"

Fuck. 

"Babydoll," he growled. "Daddy's gotcha, daddy's gonna treat ya so fuckin' good."

He slapped your damp cunt with his long fingers, thrusting them inside to rub and feel at your walls, at the bump that never failed to make you screech. "Daddy's been mean hasn't he? Hm? Been a bad daddy to ya, baby?"

You could only gasp out wordlessly as he slurped the juices off your clit, not stopping until you were gushing, sloppy cum drizzling on the bedsheet, every muscle in spasms, incapable of even stretching out your legs although Atsumu knew you wanted to, you really wanted to so fuckin' bad, resorting to curling your toes instead. 

"E-enough, please, please, stop!"

How adorable, Atsumu thought. "My little slut," he cooed, tapping the tip of his hard cock on your pussy. "My good 'lil fucktoy."

He relished it, wanting to draw this on forever, so he slides it against your folds, pussy lips wrapping the meat of his cock, gyrating his hips back and forth, as if he were fucking you, and grabbing your tits to play with your nipples. 

"Atta girl," he laughed, licking his teeth when he finally sunk inside your tight cunt, pushing you so far down into the mattress until his chest was rubbing against your tits, your feet dangling against his shoulders.

"I don't-I don't want this, 'Tsumu," you sobbed. "Don't want this!"

Oh, of course you don't. Atsumu knows you don't. He'd fucked you against your will, after all. 

But you were taking him so well, darlin'. Your walls were hugging his cock so fuckin' nicely that he couldn't help but shove deeper inside you, craving for the way your pussy twitched rapidly around him. 

If you weren't bound, he's also sure that you'd be pushing his hips away. But that's not what's getting to him. Because as he pistoned his cock into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass, you instantly turned your face away.

Did you know that you were breaking his heart? Shattering it to pieces, when you close your eyes like doors, locking them to prevent him from ever reaching you again. 

So he gripped your chin. Forced you to meet his eyes as you wept and shook your head. 

"Am gonna be better, baby," he groaned.  "No more keeping things from ya. None of that bullshit, now."

Atsumu shivered as you came around him, convulsing under him and strained voice still begging him to stop. Because he wasn't. He would never stop. Not when it comes to you. 

"Am all yours, angel. All yours." He pounded your fucked out cunt, chasing his own high as he kneaded your tits. 

A tear fell from your eyelids. And when he kissed you, it felt like everything in his life shifted back in its rightful place. "You can have it all," he sighed, cupping your cheek.

"So give me all of you now," Atsumu pleaded. "Come back to me."

[ackerfics]

Hi can i please request a soft coffe date with Levi and after the date reader and Levi go in the park sit on a bench reader falls asleep on Levi’s lap or shoulder (u choose) and he caries her bridal style to home he just slips in bed beside her but he wakes her up accidentally and like he says sorry like so many times but she just kisses him and snuggles in his chest.After that they are both asleep.Love your works so so much!💕

best part  — levi ackerman

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: none, just fluff <3

— summary: it’s your first anniversary with levi and he made it a day to look forward to in the coming years.

— word count: 2.8k

— author’s notes: aaaaa thank you so much for loving my works, that means so much to me !! i slightly altered the request and made it a picnic date with some coffee on the side. i had fun writing this bc it screamed single in my face. [sighs] i feel like i’m torturing myself by writing these scenarios sksklfjwe anyways happy reading !!

reblogs are greatly appreciated !! 

Feelings were something that Levi couldn’t get a grasp on since he could remember. He was a stoic and reserved man, even among his peers — that was until he met the woman who made him weak in the knees. The first time he met her, he had to regain his composure when she gave him a small smile. The two of them were in front of the counter in the nearby café, with him ordering his daily dose of tea while she told the barista her favored blend of coffee. Levi remembered shaking his head at the unnecessary love for coffee — tea will always remain superior in his opinion. He apparently murmured that out loud, with the most beautiful pair of eyes shifting to meet his caught his heart and took his breath away.

Who knew that being regulars of that café and by visiting the establishment at the same time could make their fates align as if they were woven together.

Today was one of the rare times he had free time from university and the best part is that today marks their first anniversary as a couple.

Levi had no idea what to do. Since he was an absolute goner in the feats of romance, he tried consulting his friends. It was something he mildly regretted. Erwin was the same as him, always focused on academics that he doesn’t have any time for relationships. The fucking giant suggested he should stay true as possible in his intentions, planning just a small date that can fit their little world together — not grandeur at all, to which Levi slightly took note of. Next, asking Hange was an absolute disaster. Knowing that you shared a major with this buffoon, they announced to the whole lab that Levi’s taking you on a date on your anniversary. It was a good thing they don’t know what he was planning.

So Levi decided on a small picnic date, with food and drinks from the café you two frequented.

Everything was packed safely and securely in a basket on the front seat of his car. To be honest, this was the first time he stood the longest in front of his closet. Planning what to wear was a total waste of time but he wasn’t complaining about his outfit for the day even though it was similar to the outfits he donned every day. He kept stretching his turtleneck in the anticipation of seeing you after your lab. While he waited in the parking lot closest to your department building, Levi was scrolling through his social media accounts.

It always warmed his heart every time he visited his feed on Instagram, every single post featuring you. Hange said it was simp behavior and Levi didn’t talk to them for an entire week. (Well, after having a reflection at one of your dates, staring at you like you were his salvation, he concluded that Hange was right.)

A message appeared on his screen, making his lips quirk up in the smallest yet endearing way possible.

i’m going out of the lab now, i’m so excited for our date

Levi looked up from his phone, seeing your bubbly smile lighting up the parking lot. Even though the windows are tinted, he reciprocated your wave. He unlocked the door of the passenger seat and suddenly, the fruity scent of your perfume enveloped him in a warm blanket of comfort. The next thing he knew, his shoulders relaxed in a droop, meeting your eyes as you lit up at the sight of the basket.

“Hi,” you greeted him, taking the basket and putting it on your lap as you made yourself comfortable on the front seat.

Levi turned to face you and leaned forward, hands pulling on the seatbelt and securing you beside him. He stopped with only a few inches separating your faces, his half-lidded silver gaze going back and forth between your lips and eyes. After a few seconds, uttered so softly against your lips, “Hi, beautiful.” The feeling of your lips moving against his always gave him a torpedo of butterflies, today’s occasion only spurring the insects to flutter their wings that it felt so electrifyingly good. With a little swipe of his tongue on your bottom lip, he hummed as he pulled away with red cheeks and a small smirk on his now shiny lips. “You put on blueberry.”

“Yeah,” you agreed with a small laugh, kissing him again quickly that he pouted.

“You know I can’t stop when you have that flavor of lip balm.”

You playfully narrowed your eyes. “I thought we have a date to go to.”

“Just one more?”

You grinned at how clingy Levi was becoming. It was rare for him to be like this and every time he acts like a touch-starved partner, it was too much for your weak heart. You held yourself back from pushing his cheeks together and marveling how adorable this side of him is. Leaning to fit your lips against his, you gave him what he wanted. “There. Now, let’s go on this date you’ve been planning.”

Levi chuckled as he straightened on his seat. He placed a hand on the back of your seat, looking behind him as he steered the car out of the parking lot and into the cityscape. The whole ride, his other hand was covering one of yours on top of the basket, his thumb rubbing soothingly across the back of your hand. You hummed along with the song playing on the radio, missing the adoring glances Levi gave you every once in a while. Fifteen minutes flew by so quickly and the car stopped in the small parking area of the local park. The two of you got out of the car, Levi pulling your hand in his, and leading you to a nice spot in the emerald plains.

With both ends held between you two, the picnic blanket was carefully draped on the grass, then making yourselves comfortable on the laid-out blanket. Levi took out everything nestling inside the basket — some wrapped sandwiches, a container of berries, shawarma wraps, and a small tin of oatmeal cookies. You were starving since you ate a salad from the university’s convenience store early in the morning for your lab meeting. As each container was revealed by Levi, you were anticipating the moment you will have your fill. Your stomach seemed to agree with your line of thought, interrupting the comfortable silence with a low gurgle. Levi looked up from tidying everything, eyebrow raised in slight amusement.

You felt your face become warm. “Oh, shut up. I haven’t eaten anything since nine in the morning. I’m bound to be hungry after not eating lunch.”

Levi clicked his tongue, pushing the sandwiches in front of you. “Who told you to skip lunch anyway?”

You leaned forward, fluttering your eyelashes with an innocent smile. “I have you to bring me my go-to order in the café anyway.” You bit down on a clubhouse sandwich. Everything became light when your palate was immediately satisfied. You couldn’t help but eat the sandwich as quickly as possible because being hungry enhances the taste of food.

“Hey, slow down,” Levi lightly scolded you. “You might choke.” The next second, you were coughing after gobbling the sandwich in a new record. Levi turned to the basket and took out a large cup of iced coffee, handing it to you to wash down whatever was lodged in your throat. “Here, drink it off.”

You would’ve cooed at the sight of your favorite blend of coffee if not for your life on the line with all your coughing. Slurping the cold liquid until you felt your cough subsiding, you let out a contented sigh as you slumped against Levi’s side. You smiled when you felt a pair of lips brushing on your head. You took a drink of your coffee before muttering, “What would I do without you?”

“Probably die of choking. I told you to slow down every time you’re hungry but it will always end with you having food down the wrong pipe.”

You laughed. “I still have you to remind me that.” You looked up at him, catching the adoring look Levi was giving you. You took it as a moment to admire him as well. His eyes will always remind you of the stars, their silvery glow so bright against any source of light. A lot has happened in the year you were together and you were starting to wish you could paint your love in the most vibrant hues. Leaning up, you pressed a kiss on the corner of Levi’s lips. “I’m so happy it’s you,” you murmured on his cheek, forehead pressed on his temple.

Levi stared at you with half-lidded eyes, hand lifting to brush a thumb on the apple of your cheek. Your name dripping from his lips made your heart flutter. His throat bobbed, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something. Just as you were about to ask him what was bothering him, Levi dipped his head until his lips stopped beside your ear. He always did this whenever he has to say something that was meant for your ears only. You patiently waited for him to muster his courage, rubbing the hand cradling your jaw. However, you breathed out a gasp when he finally said the words that you were never afraid to tell him.

“I love you. So fucking much.”

You could only stare at his embarrassed face, surprise taking away your voice. On normal days, you would’ve teased him for the blush creeping his face, reaching his ears that had you swooning. But now, the sight of his reddened cheeks and restless eyes made your face heat up. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, the effect of your lover’s confession spurring your senses in overdrive. You felt so many things at the moment, you felt proud of Levi for voicing out his feelings to you and you felt all the love dedicated to him gathering in your chest.

“I know it took me a whole year to say these words to you and I’m not that great with feelings unlike some people you know,” Levi rambled, silver irises flicking at anything but you. “B-But,” he cursed at his stutter, “I really do love you. I’m so fucking happy that it’s you, too. You are so patient with me and I’m starting to think that I don’t deserve you.” He said your name again in that fluttering way that made your heart clench. “Happy anniversary to us finding home in each other. I want this to last and I hope you won’t get tired of me.”

“I would never,” you reassured him, cupping his cheeks in your hands. “You took the words right out of my mouth, Levi. I love you, too. Everything in my life involving you is the best part of it.”

Levi planted his lips on yours, kissing you like it was the last time he could ever do so. “You’re making me weak and I don’t mind if you do it for the rest of my life.”

You suddenly perked up; eyes bright as you remembered the gift you tucked in your bag. “I got something for you.” You took out a small black box and handed it to a wide-eyed Levi. “I know it’s not much but it reminded me of you.”

A silver simple bracelet was placed on top of a small cushion, a thin plate connecting the two ends of the bracelet. Levi didn’t buy any gifts for you except for planning the date and it made him feel guilty. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at the piece of jewelry, his apology clear in his eyes. “I didn’t buy any gift for this day. Fuck.”

You chuckled, unclasping the bracelet and putting it on Levi’s wrist. Your fingers touched the bracelet gingerly, a wistful painted on your lips. “This date and you saying you love me for the first time couldn’t amount to what I just gave you.” You kissed him on the cheek. “You’re already the best gift I could ask for, a simple bracelet is nothing compared to you.”

Levi smiled breathtakingly before nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, eliciting a series of giggles from you.

“Okay, now let’s dig in. I’m still hungry, you know.”

“You’re always hungry, love.”

“Thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now eat some more.”

-

You look so peaceful sleeping with your head on his lap.

It was nearing sunset by the time you were getting drowsy. The food was already finished half an hour ago but that didn’t stop you two from continuing the picnic date by exchanging stories. You were in the middle of telling Levi your encounter with your juniors when you yawned. Levi suggested you try to get some rest after a busy week in your major, taking his advice with a hum as you laid down on the blanket. The cups and containers were all tidied up in the basket beside him and Levi thought that it will be getting late the more time you spend in the park.

He decided against waking you up so he put on your backpack, tucked the basket on the crook of his elbow, and slid his arm on your back and under your knees. He carried you carefully until he reached his car, slowly placing you in the front seat, and buckling your seatbelt. He kissed your forehead before putting the basket and bag in the backseat. The drive to your shared apartment was spent with Levi glancing at your sleeping form and the bracelet that reflected against the sunset.

Entering the apartment building after parking the car in the basement lot, carrying everything, including you, proved to be quite difficult until he reached the door to your apartment. Levi had to stick to the wall to prevent you from falling to the floor as he pressed the passcode to your and Levi’s living space. Leaving his shoes in the rack by the entrance, Levi padded to your room.

As he placed you on the covers, he realized he was staring too much with your bag on his back and the basket still tucked in his elbow. After taking off your backpack, he hastily returned to the kitchen to leave the basket on the counter. The events of the day suddenly entered his mind and a smile instantly pulled on the corners of his mouth. You were the best thing that happened in his life. You encouraged him to pick himself up after finding himself stuck in limbo. Your smile was one of the prettiest things he ever saw on the planet, which says something because Levi never described anything as pretty in all his life. (Except for his mom but that’s already a given since he would get a scolding whenever he visits home.) Sure, he was bummed that he didn’t give you anything for your anniversary but today will be one of the days he will look forward to celebrating.

That’s all that matters.

Going back to your room, Levi changed into his pajamas and slipped into bed with you.

Levi froze for a moment when you shifted your position, humming as you opened your eyes drowsily. You smiled at him but that didn’t stop Levi from feeling guilty about waking you up. He knew how much you needed sleep. He was a witness to your sleepless nights and caffeinated rushes so taking away the one thing you find solace in was shitty.

“Are we home?” you murmured in a voice painted with sleep.

“Shit, baby, I’m sorry for waking you up,” Levi fussed. “Yeah, we’re home but I didn’t wake you up because you’re sleeping so well. I’m really sorry.”

You only laughed, leaning up to kiss your lover. Levi poured everything in the kiss, opening his eyes slowly to the feeling of your body snuggling in his side. “I love you, Levi.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

He didn’t mean to wake you up so Levi laid on his back and pulled you closer until your head nuzzled his chest. His eyes never looked away from you, roaming and soaking in your peaceful features. You were easily the most beautiful person in Levi’s mind. How your eyelashes touched the top of your cheeks, how your eyebrows relaxed at the physical contact with him, how your lips quirked in a small smile at the feeling of him enveloping you. He could admire you all evening but his eyelids were already tugging downwards. Maybe it was the way your saccharine scent calmed his senses or maybe it could be the way you felt so right fitted to him like this.

It could be so many reasons but all Levi knew was that he had never felt so comfortable in his life, pulling him in a dreamless sleep filled solely with your warmth.

[caffeineforbucky]

As Time Goes By...(Chapter three)

A/N: This one took a while to write. I've just been so busy doing absolutely nothing all while procrastinating, so special thanks to that. No, but I really hope you like this, fellow reader. If you like the series, let me know if you want to be tagged!

(Side note: I've been playing RE8, thirsting over lady D, and dying over and over...it's going great! It's part of the procrastination...)

Also, has anyone seen the Bridgerton musical tiktoks? I swear I've had the 'burn for you' song in my head all last month and if you've been living under a rock...here's the link:

https://youtu.be/EwY9_m5qeow

Word Count: 2,299

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Warnings: I don't know....angst? As always, John Walker!?! AKA; Fake Cap. Umm...If I missed any let me know.

(A little PSA: I don't hate John Walker: or the actor. John is a well-written character. This is just strictly for the purpose of where my story is going. I'm more reiterating how Bucky treats him in the show. Thank you!!)

You groan, rolling from your left side to lay flatly on your back, arms spread out beside you. You inhale deeply, becoming aware of the moistened dirt and crushed wildflowers beneath you as they release their aromatics. Birds chirped around you, the busy sounds of traffic fading away while you lie still in the field, oxygen feeling heavy in your lungs.

"Y/N?!"

You barely heard the worrisome calls of Sam over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You lift your head, the view of icy mountains in the distance, blurry figures making their way towards you while you somehow managed to sit up. Your head was spinning, a sharp ache on the side of your thigh.

Your eyes flickered down, taking note of the small paring knife lodged in your thigh. You exhaled softly, nodding your head at the sight of it. "Okay," You grumble in agreement. With shaking hands, you wrap your fingers around the handle, bracing yourself by taking intervolved breaths before carefully pulling it from your thigh.

You worked fast, ignoring the crunch of rocks and dirt under the acknowledgeable footsteps of Sam and Bucky. Taking babochka, you cut off the end of your pant leg, wrapping the spandex around your wounded thigh before securing it with one of the holsters, tying the ends into a knot. You remain quiet, carefully pushing yourself up to your feet, transferring all of the weight to the opposite leg, eyes drifting up to meet the guys. "Are you guys okay?" You murmur, dusting off the clumps of dirt and dead leaves from your jacket.

"Are you?!" Sam exclaimed incredulously. "You're bleeding!" He points out, gesturing to the bright red staining the skin of your calf as it dripped down to your boot. The wrap might've held the wound shut, but that didn't mean blood wouldn't have soaked through.

"Oh, this?" You ask, glancing down at your leg, the wound throbbing in agony, but you did your best to avoid it. "I've had worse." That was true, from all those years fighting as an avenger. Getting shot, kicked, stabbed, beaten until you were purple, and undergoing mind control. This tiny stab was the least of your worries. It still hurt like hell, and you couldn't hide the discomfort in your features.

"Do you want a piggyback?" Bucky asks suddenly, slightly annoyed at your nonchalance and still concerned nonetheless. You weren't expecting it, the odd but kind offer, especially from the menace himself. Though you weren't one to pass up being carried. With a hesitant nod, you agree, watching Bucky crouch just a bit, allowing you to climb on his back.

The position was awkward for both of you. With his hands tightening on the back of your knees and your arms wrapped around his neck, neither of you could think straight. Yet, you were still thankful. The road to the airport was a long one, and you weren't sure if you could make it in your state. Bucky held you as if you weighed nothing, his super-soldier strength showing off while he carried you on his back, footsteps matching up with Sam. He didn't mind doing it, especially since he was the one who offered, and the proximity was just a bonus.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky muses, breaking the silence while the three of you sauntered down the empty road. There was nothing for miles, only empty plains of grass and dirt. Young trees scattered, lacking the greenery around them, evident of the cold weather in Munich.

"No, you're not," Sam remarks, narrowing his eyes to a pinprick at the winter soldier. "You've always hated Redwing."

"That doesn't mean I'm not sorry about it," Bucky grumbles, tightening his hold on you as he felt you slipping. You gasp at the sudden strength, clinging better to his shoulders as well. "How're you doin' up there?" He asks, jaw clenching from your touch.

"All things considering," You sigh, pushing aside the butterflies in your tummy at how close you were to Bucky. "I've been better. We've gotta find out where that super serum is coming from."

"Yeah," Sam chimed in, glancing at you. "-And how the hell after 80 years are there eight super-soldiers runnin' loose?"

Loud honks of a horn ring in your ears, tires treading on the gravel as an army jeep slows down beside the three of you. "So, that didn't go as planned, huh?" John chuckles, pushing the door open only for you to keep walking, paying no mind to the man in stars and stripes.

"Okay, keep going," John utters, signaling the driver to keep up as he pulls the door shut. "Look, at least we know what we're up against, huh? And I'm pretty sure it's one of the big three...so,"

"Aliens, androids, or wizards," Lemar comments as John nods his head in agreement.

"There's no such thing as wizards!" Bucky grunts, keeping his eyes forward, hands on the back of your knees.

"Fine, aliens or androids," John settles, sharing a look with his best friend beside him. "Look, it's 20 miles to the airport, and you guys need a ride. Gary, stop," He instructs, the wheels slowing down. John opens the door once again. "Get in," He sighs, motioning all of you inside the jeep as Bucky and Sam's footsteps came to a halt.

Bucky gently sets you down, taking note of the small whimpers falling from your lips. No matter how tough you appeared to be, you still carried so much vulnerability. "You okay?" He asks, eyes filled with so much concern it almost scared you. He hadn't looked at you like that in a while. "Do you want any help?"

With a soft nod, you oblige to Bucky's ask, needing more help than you anticipated. You didn't want to add any strain or force to your injury. You didn't even realize it happened, and that part of it was Sam's fault for swooping to grab you while you had a knife in hand, but you weren't going to start pointing fingers. You wrap your arm around Bucky's shoulder, using him as support while he boosts you up on the jeep after Sam climbs up first, helping you settle beside him.

"Woah!" John exclaims, almost rising to his feet at the sight of your thigh, your hands stained with blood. "Are you okay?"

With a curt nod, you adjust yourself to relieve some of the pressure while Bucky takes a seat on your left, leaving you to be right smack dab in the middle as he pulls the door shut. You blow out a breath, knowing damn well if it hadn't been for the mishap, you would've walked the damn 20 miles.

"Lemar, hand me the first aid kit," John instructs, pointing to the steel case beside his friend. You wanted to protest, but even you knew that the strap wasn't going to work. Mouthing a thank you, you take the case from Lemar's hand and clip it open.

"Okay, so we got eight super-soldiers on a bulk supply run," John continues, the jeep beginning to roll down the road. You hand the case to Sam, asking him to hold it while you searched for gauze, medical tape, and butterfly bandages, you were probably going to need stitches, but you'd worry about that later. "Why?" John asks, watching closely as you patched up your wound.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during the blip," Sam answers, handing you another strip of tape. "Maybe they're just tryna help."

"They had a funny way of showing it," Bucky adds, his eyes trained on you, a hiss slipping through your lips as you roll down the remaining spandex. You sigh in relief, the ache becoming dull as you shut the case, giving it back to Lemar.

"Better?" John asks, earning a single nod as a response. "I don't think we've properly met. John Walker," he smiles, offering a shake of his hand, but you didn't move, only staring at the outstretched palm in front of you. "Does she talk?" John mumbles suddenly, looking to Sam or Bucky for a reply.

Your eyes cast down, gaze hardening at the sight of the shield in his grasp. Flashes of Steve running through your mind, the many times he'd catch you trying to throw it like he would. Steve Rogers meant a lot to you, having joined him in not signing the Sokovian accords, being an outlaw, and helping to clear Bucky's name with Sam. So, seeing a man who wasn't Steve hold the shield awoke something in you. Something unkind and hateful.

"When she wants to," You claim, John squirms in his seat, sensing the tension as your eyes flicker to his. "And frankly has no desire to speak to you."

"You don't even know me," John defends, glancing at Bucky, a sly smirk on his lips, and Sam, who rendered quiet, his eyes looking elsewhere. John sets his attention back on you, lips razor thin.

You scoff, shaking your head softly as you fold your arms over your chest. "Jonathon F. Walker," You begin, leaning back in your seat, your eyes never leaving his. "Former Captain of the U.S Army's 75th Rangers Regiment. Graduated at the top of your class from the United States Military and the first person in American history to receive three medals of honor, ran RS-one missions in counterterrorism and hostage rescue."

John's tongue darts between his lips, a frown spreading throughout his forehead at the information you were giving him. Either you did research on him or, you just read his file, which you had done both. You were not one to go into a mission without potentially knowing who you were up against. It was better to be safe than sorry.

"So you saw the news?" John chuckles, the frown falling from his features while he shrugs. "Big deal, so did the entire world."

"Custer's Grove High school alumni."

John's smile falters.

"There you met, Lemar Hoskins and your current wife," You tilt your head in curiosity. "Olivia, right? Or am I getting it wrong?"

Clearing his throat softly, John broke eye contact with you. So you did know him, and you probably knew more than you led on. "Do they always just stare like that?" He gestures between you and Bucky, who had displayed the same distaste for him.

Sam glances beside him, observing the matched body language you shared with Bucky, its no wonder Bucky had taken a liking to you, even if he'd never admit it. "You get used to it," Sam smirks, turning his head back to Walker.

"Okay..." John drags, eyes flickering to the more sensible one of the trio, and that was Sam. "Look, that serum doesn't have the greatest track record, no offense," He waves his hand, dismissing the insult directed towards the only super-soldier in the car.

"We need to figure out where they're going. How'd you track 'em here?" Sam asks, "The flag smashers."

"Uh," Lemar murmurs, scratching the back of his head. "We didn't track them. We tracked you through Redwing."

"You hacked my tech!?" Sam gripes, straightening out his back as he sat up.

"Sorry," John laughs, "It's not exactly hacking. It's government property...kind of the government. Alright, you know things have gotten kind of..."

"Chaotic," Lemar adds.

"Yeah," John nods in agreement. "The GRC, they're doing their best to get things up and running smoothly post blip. If you guys teamed up with us-"

"No." Bucky interrupts. He couldn't let Walker finish that sentence.

"I've got mad respect for all of you," Lemar praises, looking between the trio before him. "But you were getting your asses kicked 'til we showed up."

"And who are you?" Bucky bemuses, cocking a brow at the man next to John.

"Lemar Hoskins," You mention, "I could've sworn we've been through this." You shake your head at the old man, for being 106, he couldn't hear a thing.

"I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear," Sam shrugs, "I'm gonna need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins."

"I'm Battlestar, John's partner."

"Battlestar?" Bucky repeats, narrowing his eyes at Lemar as he nods, confirming his alias. "Stop the car!" Bucky shouts suddenly, brakes screeching as the wheels come to a stop in the middle of the road. Bucky pulls open the handle, ducking, as to not rail his head on the bar-frame above him before hopping off the jeep.

"Look, I get it, okay?" John sighs, calling after Bucky. "I get the attitude, I do. You didn't think the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky. And I'm not trying to be Steve!"

"Good," You interject, rendering John to settle his eyes on you. "Because you will never be. And just because you're the one wielding it..." You grab the bar above your head, using it to pull yourself up. "It doesn't make you Captain America." And with that, you carefully jump off the jeep, following after the heated super-soldier.

Sighing in frustration, he rips his eyes away from your retreating figures. "I'm not trying to replace him either. I'm just trying to be the best Captain America I can be." He explains to Sam, hoping the falcon would cut him some slack. "-And it'd be a whole lot easier if I had Cap's wingman on my side."

Sam's eyes widen in surprise, his tongue darting between his lips. "It's always that last line," He scoffs, shaking his head as he jumped off the car, following you and Bucky.

John's lips thin out, face scrunching in a scowl. "Let's go," He instructs. The sound of the jeep leaving making its way to your ears.

[bookofmirth]

You Are My Almanac - elucien 1

Summary

Elain Archeron finds herself stuck in an engagement that her mother had arranged before her untimely death. Elain is determined not to like the man and to create a solitary life leading her household the way she wants, but her fiancé has an annoying habit of making her like him.

AO3 | tags: arranged marriage, Regency-era inspired but not faithful. These two are wary of one another and I got a bit snarky when I wrote this first chapter because I want it to be fun, not super angsty. Oh also the title is from the song almanac by Purity Ring.

Elain had perfected the art of staring out a carriage window without being jostled around like a dice in one of the cups her sisters used when playing one of the games played with guests after dinner. Their mother disapproved of the games, of course, but that hardly mattered when all it took to please her was an appropriately humble “yes ma’am” whenever it was required. And it took Elain quite an effort to remain upright and steady in the carriage as it traveled over the country roads, but it was suffer a sore back and look lovely as possible for her current rendezvous, or suffer the mortification. Elain would much rather maintain appearances. At least for now.

Because now, Elain could say “yes ma’am” or “please, maman”, until she was blue in the face, and it would be for nothing, since her dear mother had upheld her promise to see Elain engaged to a fine, wellbred young man with a suitable income, but then she had died before bothering to see what Elain thought of the man, or even introducing them.

For Elain was on her way to meet her betrothed. The word rolled off the tongue, betrothed, or it had, when she was still a child and had imagined that she would have any choice in the matter. When the word still held a sense of romance and promise.

And Elain Archeron had found herself betrothed, that was certain, though it had happened quite without any influence or input from herself.

She had a vague idea of the kind of man she wanted to marry. Kind and considerate, tall, a handsome rider, with extensive property and an income that would support her in at least the style to which she was currently accustomed, if not better. Elain was firm in her belief that she wasn’t asking for much. If he were political minded then that might suit her even better, as she had always imagined hosting important people at her dinners, not just the Beddors from down the lane.

Who were the Vanserras, anyway? Elain had never heard of the name, had never seen it when she flipped through the pages of Burke’s Peerage, Baronetage, and Knightage, not to mention that the family lived very far away!

Or that might have been a complaint Elain would have lodged to her sisters, had they not also found themselves engaged and then married to men who lived in that part of the country which Elain had heard described as “lovely, in the right light and at certain times of year”.

Elain’s knowledge of the rest of the country was limited, to be sure. But she didn’t much like the idea of being thrust into a new home, with a man she didn’t know, in a town where she hadn’t even established a proper seamstress. It was important to find one who wouldn’t give her that look when she came in with tattered, muddy skirt hems. Her cheeks heated at the idea of her future husband scolding her about the zeal with which she engaged in her hobbies.

When the carriage came to an abrupt halt, Elain realized that Feyre had been talking for the last minute or so and Elain hadn’t caught a word. She looked at her sister, younger and yet more worldly than Elain ever hoped to be. Where Elain knew people, Feyre understood the bigger picture of what it took to survive.

She gave her sister a small smile and Feyre reached across the carriage to pat Elain’s hand.

“I’m sure he will be perfectly nice, dearest. And if he isn’t, there are plenty of ways of ensuring that your husband stays out of your hair. Not that I would need them.” Feyre said this last part with a small, secret smile.

Elain fought the urge to roll her eyes. “If it comes to that, I’ll be sure to come to you, Feyre. You are one of the lucky ones though, you know.” The door to the carriage opened and Elain held out her hand without a glance at the footman. “Not everyone is so lucky as to marry for love.”

The sisters stepped from the carriage, the gravel of the drive crunching under their shoes. Elain held a hand up to her forehead to shield the sun from her eyes. She was unable to take in the manor in one glance, and turned in a full circle to take in as much of the property as she could before meeting her fiancé and going inside her future home. To her doom.

At least this man, Lucien Vanserra, had a man to keep his grounds meticulous. The shrubbery had been cleverly chosen and the flowers were full of pollinating bees, which would make for interesting experiments in cross-pollination, though perhaps she might do something about the grove of fruit trees - they were too far away from the water source to be effective. And Elain wondered at the status of the fruit, how much of it went to use in the house and how much went to the local residents. Hopefully - Elain grimaced at the thought - it didn’t fall to the ground and go to waste.

Elain felt a tug at her elbow and turned to find Feyre, waiting with her head inclined to the door. The front door, underneath a large, elaborately-carved portico, where the first footman stood at attention, waiting to usher the women into the home. And to his left, a tall man with fiery red hair, tied back with a black ribbon, stood waiting to greet her.

Elain’s breath caught to see him. He was younger than she had expected. She wouldn’t have put it past her mother to bridle her with a septuagenarian if he had offered the right price. So that this man, this Mr. Vanserra, was at most ten years older than her… Elain was disappointed to find herself pleased. And he certainly was well-acquainted with a proper clothier, if the fit of his vest and trousers were any indication.

Feyre stepped forward first. “Lucien! It is so good to see you.”

Mr. Vanserra lowered his head slightly. “Lady Chevalier, thank you for visiting my home today. I hope that Rhysand is doing well.”

“’Lady Chevalier’ my eye, call me Feyre, Lucien.” She took his hands into her own and it seemed that he might have reciprocated her familiarity had Elain not been there. His eyes flicked to her and then back to Feyre, seeming to already be wary of how he appeared to her.

“Lucien, this is my sister, Elain.”

The rest of the greeting hung in the air and Elain could have tasted the words. Elain, your fiancée. Elain, the woman you have never met but who will share your bed. She nearly reddened at the thought and forced herself to pay attention to the situation at hand.

Lucien turned away from Feyre and took a step closer to Elain.

Elain curtsied. “Mr. Vanserra. You have a lovely manor.” And hopefully, I won’t see much of you in it, she added silently to herself.

Lucien lifted Elain’s gloved hand to his lips, pressing so softly that she wasn’t sure when it was over, if he had actually made contact. Wouldn’t have known it had happened, really, if not for the slight warming of her skin.

“Miss Archeron,” he said, bending at the waist, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Allow me to welcome you to my home.” His eyes alighted on hers as he said the words - my home - for it wasn’t their home yet. And they were both painfully aware that it would be.

Lucien extended his hand to gesture at the imposing double-doored entrance and stood upright.

Elain lowered her head slightly in deference. “Thank you for the welcome. The property really is lovely,” she couldn’t help adding. Lucien looked into her face with earnestness and she took note of the golden warmth of one eye, while the other was traversed by a brutal scar, one she wouldn’t have expected to see on a Lord of the peerage. “The grass is… very green.”

“Ah, yes,” Lucien responded. He took a step back and surveyed the lawn as if he hadn’t noticed its color before. “I had it specially grown. Just for its…. verdancy.”

Her hand fell to her side when Lucien let go of hers, and she momentarily forgot what to do with it. She glanced at Feyre, whose hands were clasped together in front of her waist, and Elain mirrored the posture.

“Well, ladies. I have had tea set out for us. I’m sure you could use some refreshment after your travels.”

Feyre made a small curtsy in response and Elain fell into line behind her.

The first footman hurried ahead of them and opened the front door. The interior of the home was a dark, yawning chasm.

And with that, Elain took a step forward, into the home of her future husband.

***

Thanks for reading! You may have noticed my tag list has disappeared. If you want to be on it again, even if months or years pass without an update, let me know! Sorry if you have requested in the past and intended to stay on it forever, I just figured that things change in the years since I started writing fanfic. 💕

[corpsedaydream]

point of view

corpse husband x reader

word count: 2.4k

_______________________________

pov

Growing up, you’d spent so many afternoon and nights in your childhood bedroom scribbling down notes into diaries. Some of it was reality, some of it was fantasy, but all of it was you. Once you were done, you would hide the journals all over your room, they were for your eyes only but your brother use to have a habit of finding them and reading them and teasing you if you happened to write about a boy you had a crush on.

Ironically, when you’d first started talking to Corpse, before he became your boyfriend, your brother had caught you sending him some heart emojis, and even as grown ups, he still teased you about it.

You weren’t surprised that hadn’t changed, but something that did change that did take you by surprise is how that hobby of writing brought you to where you were in your career.

You were on your way to your boyfriends place and in the passenger seat of your car was a CD. In a very early 2000s style, there was writing scribbled onto it done with a black sharpie and the letters read, ‘POV demo’. You could feel nervous butterflies gathering in your stomach as you neared closer and closer to Corpse’s place.

You’d had an incredible past few days. Writing always felt like something for fun, never something that would actually be a career prospect but when your YouTube videos of you sharing your original song ideas started to take off, people started to notice. Someone in particular being Ariana Grande. She’d fallen in love with your writing style and wanted to work with you to create a song for her next album, so of course you graciously and excitedly agreed.

It seemed you and Ariana were in similar phases of your life, both falling in love with someone who seemed so perfect for you. So the song came so easily for you, all you had to do was think of Corpse.

Your car came to a stop out the front of his place and you took in a few deep breaths as you unbuckled your seatbelt and picked up the CD from beside you. You’d written about Corpse before, but never something that was as confessional and honest as this song was.

Will he even like it? You thought to yourself and for a second you contemplated placing the CD under your car to run over it to destroy it. But you wanted him to hear it before it was released to the world. So with one last deep breath you shook your head to try to send the nervous thoughts to the back part of your brain as you exited your car with the disc that had the song on it in hand.

The time between knocking on his front door and him coming to open it had never felt this long before. You were chewing on your bottom lip and your forefinger was picking at the corner of your thumb nail as you anxiously waited. Then when the door opened, you spoke up before Corpse even had a chance to greet you. “I have a surprise for you!” You blurted out as you stepped inside and avoided bumping into him.

Corpse had a humoured yet confused expression as he watched you slip past him, usually you greeted each other with an exchange of touch, but you were barely looking at him right now and seemingly keeping your distance. “What-”

“No, please don’t say anything.” You held your hand up that wasn’t holding the CD as a signal to shoosh your boyfriend. “I have to show you right now before I change my mind.” You were visibly nervous, he could see it so clearly in you right now, so he listened and kept quiet. He wanted you to feel okay, but now you had spiked his curiosity, he had to know what the surprise was. “Can I put a disc in this?” You asked as you walked to a laptop that sat on his coffee table and sat down on the floor to place the CD beside it so you could inspect.

“A disc for what?” He was puzzled by the question.

“Just answer!” You didn’t mean to snap at him, this was supposed to be a good surprise, but god your heart was beating so fast and it felt like it was lodged in your throat. You were about to spill your heart out to him like you never had before and you were terrified of a potential rejection if he thought it was too much. Instead of questioning or arguing or snapping back at you, he neared you instead. Corpse could see your hands shaking a little and you were hunched in on yourself. Usually you were the confident one of the two of you so seeing you in this insecure state was something he wasn’t exactly used to. However, he had seen it before, but only a very few times. As confident and bright as you were, he’d been slowly learning your more deep seeded fears and vulnerabilities, so he was learning how to handle it when you were in a state like this.

“Hey,” He called for your attention as he crouched down beside you his voice ever so calm, one of his hands coming to land on the small of your back and his other grabbed hold of one of your hands. “Look at me.”  Finally, you did. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth you turned your head and found his gaze, your eyes flickered between his, you were still so nervous. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“I mean, yeah, I am. I’m just-” You cut yourself off and you broke away from his gaze.

“Just what?”

“Scared.”

At that answer, his hand on your back rounded around you further as he let go of your hand so he could instead shift closer to you again and use that hand to bring it to the side of your face, encouraging you to turn to him again. “Why are you scared?”

“I’ve really just got to show you this.” Was the only answer you could give him without spoiling what the surprise was.

“Do you want to?” How badly he wanted to know what the surprise was, but he wouldn’t push for it if it caused you to be more on edge.

“Yeah.” You answered him and he smiled before leaning in to kiss you.

“Go ahead then, baby.” Corpse told you after you broke apart, his hands falling from you as you scooted forward to be in front of the laptop and he leant back against the couch.

One last time, you looked back at him over your shoulder, you were more in front of him now, but he was still within an arms length. He nodded fervently at you, watching with interest as turned your attention back to the laptop and opened the device and inserted the disc. With a few clicks, the beginning of the song started to play and you dropped your vision to your hands that sat in your lap before the first lyrics were sung.

It's like you got superpowers Turn my minutes into hours You got more than 20-20, babe

Hearing this, Corpse sucked in a quick breath, it was clicking in his mind what the surprise was.

Made of glass the way you see through me

He directed his gaze to the back of your head, how he wished he could see your face right now, but he knew you must have needed to be facing away from him right now to feel okay with doing this.

You know me better than I do Can't seem to keep nothing from you How you touch my soul from the outside? Permeate my ego and my pride

You spent so much time laughing and joking around, you were a very playful person and sometimes, you found it hard to get more serious. Corpse had been one of the only people to be able to see through this, to be able to reach a more exposed part of you. And as he listened to those lyrics, he recounted a time the two of you were wine drunk and and it was one of the first times you’d ever really opened up to him. But then right after, you’d attempted to laugh it off and he stopped you and made you feel okay with not having to seem like you were at 100% all the time, especially with him.

I wanna love me The way that you love me Ooh, for all of my pretty And all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view I wanna trust me The way that you trust me Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

The chorus played and Corpse couldn’t help himself, he leant forward slightly to make contact with your elbow. And even though nothing was said, you understood fully what he wanted, because you did too. Your hand left your lap and without turning your head towards him, you reached your arm behind you, he grabbed your hand once more, intertwining your fingers with his.

I'm gеtting used to receiving Still gеtting good at not leaving I'ma love you even though I'm scared

These lyrics caused his hand to squeeze tighter around yours. It was only a few weeks ago the two of you had a pretty big fight, although it was only born out of fear and it ended in tears. When you were apologising, you’d told him you were so happy he was still with you and you’d also opened up to him about how with every past relationship, you never let yourself get in too deep, you always made a run for it before your heart was too in it. But you didn’t want that to happen with Corpse.

Learning to be grateful for myself You love my lips 'cause they say the Things we've always been afraid of I can feel it starting to subside Learning to believe in what is mine

The chorus began to play again and Corpse tugged on your hand.

I wanna love me The way that you love me Ooh, for all of my pretty And all of my ugly too I'd love to see me from your point of view

At first, you didn’t respond, and he really didn’t want to interrupt the song, but he wanted you to be in his arms so badly. “Come here.” He tugged again and this time, you finally moved. Your hands broke apart as you scooted back to sit beside him where he was still leaning against the couch and as soon as you were there, his arms came around you, pulling you in so close.

I wanna trust me The way that you trust me Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do I'd love to see me from your point of view

Your heart was beating so hard and your cheeks were flushed as you nestled your head into his neck.

I couldn't believe it, or see it for myself Know I be impatient, but now I'm out here Falling, falling, frozen, slowly thawing, got me right

His arms were around you so tight and your emotions were running so high. Tears were pooling in your eyes as your hand grabbed ahold of his shirt, the material pulling taut as your hand tightened into a fist over the material.

I won't keep you waiting All my baggage fading, safely And if my eyes deceive me Won't let them stray too far away

Corpse turned his head in order to be able to press his lips against your forehead as the chorus begun to play out one last time.

I wanna love me The way that you love me Ooh, for all of my pretty And all of my ugly too

Just like earlier, one of his hands would come to cup around the side of your face, encouraging you to look at him again. With his aid, you’d move your head out from the hiding spot you’d found in the form of his neck.

I'd love to see me from your point of view

Corpse swiped his thumb across your cheeks upon seeing that a few tears had spilled over the edges of your eyelids, you were still keeping your eyesight down.

I wanna trust me, ooh The way that you trust me, baby

He’d dip his head then, still trying to connect eye contact. You’d glance up and much to your surprise, tears had begun to bubble in Corpse’s eyes too. You’d let out the softest gasp and your hand would lift to grab a hold of his wrist of his hand that was still cradling the side of your face.

'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do

As the songs last lines were playing, the two of you moved your faces closer together to meet for a passionate kiss.

I'd love to see me from your point of view

The both of you poured every emotion you were currently feeling into the physical display of love and adoration. Deepening the kiss, you’d kneel up briefly so you could climb into his lap and sling your arms around his neck and his arm would tighten around you.

When you both parted to catch a breath, you’d have your foreheads resting against one another until you lift your head back up to look at Corpse properly.

“Did you like it?”

He smiled and shook his head in disbelief at your question, how could you not know that the answer already? “I loved it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“It’s everything I’ve always wanted to say to you.” Yet again, you moved your eyes away from his.

He could see that still, you were feeling vulnerable about sharing the song with him. “Baby,” And once again, he was using his hand against the side of your face to coax your eyesight back to his. “It was perfect.” He assured you and he would feel so pleased to finally see a smile appearing on your face. “Should we only communicate in songs now?” He’d joke and he’d feel even more delighted to hear you laugh.

“I love you.” You’d tell him.

“I love you, too.” He’d reply.

“No, like, I really fucking love you.”

“I get it, because I really fucking love you.”

The both of you would laugh again and when it subsided, you shared another kiss.

“Play the song again.”