#i need to figure out how to do it without spending 3 hours fiddling

[pinwheelaster]

yea my boyfriend's pretty cool, but he's not as cool as me

[deerlino]

Hey hey hey

Can i please request producer!grumpy! Chan x producer! Sunshine! Reader? Enemies-to-lovers?? Like chan has a bad first impression on reader and doesn't like her but like they get put together for work and he falls in love?? Can you make it really fluffy and domestic at the end (like they're in a r/s and like they kiss and cuddle alot????)

thawing the ice.

bang chan x fem!reader / at first, chan really didn’t like you and had a bad first impression of you. but then, you got teamed up for a project. spending time together changed everything, and he found himself falling for you.

additional tags / grumpy producer chan x sunshine producer reader (i mean… i tried. 😭), fluff, domestic fluff, forced proximity, mutual pining, workplace romance, love confessions, love-hate relationship, dislike to lovers — 1.5k words in total.

content warnings / kisses, smooches, and cuddles

authors notes @ anon / hey heyo anon <3, thanks for the awesome request! loved writing this. you asked for enemies to lovers, but the enemies part kinda fizzled out while i was writing—not my strongest trope, lol 😭 still, hope you enjoy it !! <3

You glance at your watch, groaning internally. It’s barely eight in the morning and you’re already heading to the studio for another day of work. It wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that you were going to be working closely with Chan. Again.

It’s not that you dislike Chan. Honestly, how could you? He’s talented, driven, and ridiculously handsome. But from the moment you met him, he’s been nothing but cold and dismissive. It’s like he’s made it his mission to make your life difficult.

As you walk into the studio, you see him already there, his back to you as he fiddles with some equipment. You take a deep breath, plastering a smile on your face. “Morning, Chan!”

He doesn’t turn around. “Morning.”

You suppress a sigh. Another day, another brush-off.

You set your bag down and get to work, trying to ignore the icy atmosphere. The day drags on, the silence between you both filled with nothing but the hum of electronics and the occasional muttered curse from Chan.

Finally, after what feels like hours, you manage to get him to talk. “Hey, Chan, can you listen to this track? I think it needs something, but I can’t figure out what.”

He looks up, eyebrows raised. “You want my opinion?”

“Uh, yeah. You’re one of the best producers here,” you say, trying not to sound too sarcastic. He might be a jerk, but you still need his input.

He listens to the track, his expression unreadable. “It needs more bass. And the vocals are too soft. They need to be more upfront.”

You nod, making notes. “Got it. Thanks.”

The rest of the day goes by in much the same way, but you notice something strange. Every time you ask for his help, he gives it without complaint. And every now and then, you catch him watching you, a strange look in his eyes.

***

As the weeks go by, things start to change. It’s subtle at first. He starts offering his help without being asked. He brings you coffee in the mornings, saying it’s just because he’s getting one for himself anyway. He even starts making small talk.

One day, as you’re both working late, he surprises you. “Hey, do you want to grab some dinner after this?”

You blink, taken aback. “Uh, sure. That sounds great!”

You end up at a little diner, talking and laughing like old friends. It’s the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile, and it takes your breath away.

“You know,” he says, looking down at his plate, “I don’t actually hate you.”

You laugh, but it’s a little shaky. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He looks up, his eyes serious. “I’m... I’m not good at this. At feelings. I’ve liked you since the day we met, but I didn’t know how to act around you. I thought being distant would make it easier.”

Your heart skips a beat. “You like me?”

He nods, looking almost shy. “Yeah. A lot.”

You reach across the table, taking his hand. “I like you too, Chan. A lot.”

***

From that night on, things change even more. You’re not just coworkers anymore. You’re friends. And, slowly, you become something more.

There are late nights at the studio where he pulls you into his lap, kissing you softly as you work.

It’s nearly midnight, and you and Chan are the only ones left in the studio. The room is dimly lit, the glow from the computer screens casting a soft light over everything. You’re both exhausted, but there’s still work to be done. You’re hunched over your laptop, tweaking some last-minute details on a track, when you feel his presence behind you.

“Hey, take a break,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky from hours of talking and singing.

“I just need to finish this part,” you reply, not looking up. “Almost done.”

He sighs, but there’s a smile in his voice. “Alright, Miss Perfectionist.”

You hear him move around, and then suddenly, you’re being lifted out of your chair. “Chan!” you yelp, but he just laughs, pulling you into his lap as he sits back down.

“Relax,” he says, his arms wrapping around you. “You’ve been working too hard.”

You lean back against him, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

“I know,” he says, his lips brushing against your ear. “But you need to take care of yourself too.”

You tilt your head, looking up at him. “And what about you? You’ve been working just as hard.”

He grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m taking care of myself right now.”

You smile, your heart fluttering. “Okay, fine. Five-minute break.”

“Good,” he says, his lips trailing down your neck. “Because I need more of this.”

You close your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his lips on your skin, the warmth of his arms around you. In that moment, all the stress and exhaustion melts away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

Then, there are lazy Sundays spent cuddling on the couch, watching movies and stealing kisses.

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you’re both sprawled on the couch, watching a movie. Chan’s arm is draped over your shoulders, and your head rests against his chest. The movie is some cheesy rom-com, but neither of you are really paying attention. You’re too busy stealing kisses and laughing at each other’s jokes.

“Hey, pay attention,” you say, swatting his hand away as he tries to tickle you. “This is the best part.”

“Oh, really?” he teases, his fingers brushing against your side again. “What happens?”

You laugh, trying to squirm away. “Stop! You’ll see.”

He grins, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

You settle back against him, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek. It’s moments like this that make everything worth it. The late nights, the long hours, all of it. Because at the end of the day, you have this. You have him.

“You know,” he says suddenly, his voice soft, “I could get used to this.”

You look up at him, surprised. “What, lazy Sundays?”

He shakes his head, his eyes serious. “No. Us. Being together like this.”

Your heart skips a beat. “Me too.”

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you. It’s slow and sweet, full of all the things he can’t put into words. And you know, without a doubt, that you feel the same way.

Then, there are also mornings where you wake up tangled together, his arms around you and his breath warm against your neck.

The first rays of sunlight are just starting to filter through the curtains when you wake up. You’re tangled in the sheets, Chan’s arm draped over your waist, his breath warm against your neck. You can feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, his body a comforting weight against yours.

You turn your head slightly, just enough to see his face. He looks so peaceful, so different from the grumpy, guarded man you met months ago. You reach up, brushing a strand of hair away from his face, and he stirs, his eyes slowly opening.

“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you reply, smiling. “Sleep well?”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Always do when you’re here.”

You feel your heart swell at his words. “You’re sweet, you know that?”

He chuckles, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “Only for you.”

You laugh, rolling over to face him. “Lucky me.”

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes soft as they meet yours. “Lucky me.”

You lean in, kissing him softly. It’s a slow, lingering kiss, the kind that makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You smile, your heart feeling like it might burst. “I love you too.”

And as you lie there, wrapped up in each other, you know that this is where you’re meant to be. With him. Always.

***

One evening, as you’re sitting on a bench at the park together, he turns to you, his expression serious. “You know, I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. You make me want to be better. For you.”

You smile, your heart swelling. “You already are, Chan. You always have been.”

He kisses you, and it’s slow and sweet, full of all the things he’s never been able to say. And you know, without a doubt, that he loves you.

As the months go by, you can see the change in him. He’s still grumpy and a little rough around the edges, but there’s a softness to him now, a warmth that wasn’t there before. And you know that, no matter what, you’ll always have each other.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you turn to him, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “Hey, Chan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad we ended up working together. Even if you were a jerk at first.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Me too. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For being a jerk.”

You smile, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You’re forgiven. Just... keep being you. That’s all I need.”

And as you drift off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, you know that you’ve found something special. Something real. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

© deerlino (est. 090624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[mi5014tomberry]

Baymax Modelling - Class Exercise

I was set the task of modelling Baymax from Big Hero 6 as both a reintroduction to Maya and as a means to practise character modelling which until now I had not attempted.

The video above shows the final product from this modelling exercise, despite the long hours that it took to get it finished in a day, I learned a lot throughout the process in which I have gained a much better understanding of how to approach modelling in Maya for rounded characters. Before this I had only modelled furniture and architecture and this was a refreshing change.

By the end of the session in class I managed to block out the general shape of the body and refrained from smoothing and adding more polygons until it was necessary. It took a few attempts to get to this stage because I didn't yet know that when creating a rounded character you need to begin by rounding off a simple cube and build from that basic shape. I pressed on without realising this until after blocking out the shape from the side and the front at which point my character was looking very blocky and square which took longer to sort out than if I had started with this rounded cube.

When making the arms I tried out a couple different things before I found Gary's tutorial which helped me with the organisation of polygons before extrusion. Initially I planned on extruding the shoulder shape however, just like before, it was best to extrude a rounded four quadrant shape first to block out the initial shapes.

As Gary's tutorial video doesn't walk you through the legs and hands of the model I had to improvise with what I'd learnt so far to finish off the rest. The video and the lesson got me to the stage above.

I attempted to use the same rounding process for the hands until I managed to get something which somewhat matched the image planes. I did find some difficulty at this point because although the two images provided to import into Maya are very similar, there are a few differences in positioning especially with the head shape and the hands. These minor discrepancies made things harder to figure out and in some places on my final model it is in between these two poses, especially in the length and angle of the fingers.

I realised at this stage that to save time, I could simply duplicate the model, delete everything other than the hand, mirror this model and reattach it using the Merge Vertices tool. I did the same thing for the legs and although this process wasn't perfect, the slight inaccuracies were negligible and it was a huge time saver. I used the video above to find a quick means of mirroring the hand so that the thumbs and fingers would be arranged properly.

Here are the screenshots of the final model, its turned out pretty well, if I was doing it again now I would spend more time on the hands now that I know that mirroring difficult parts is the way to go. I think the topology of the model, in the video at the top, was really good for the most part as I now know that you want evenly spaced squares across the entire model without any triangles present. The main area I would have to change the topology would be the arms as I did not cut it into enough segments to make it nice and square but other than that I think it worked well.

I did also make an attempt at painting the eyes onto the model by following this tutorial and although I could draw on the belly, every time I painted the head, it would paint entire segments of the head so I could either colour it entirely black or nothing at all. I'll have to figure this out at some point as I tried to delete the history of the shape and fiddled around for twenty minutes trying out different things but I had to leave it blank.

As a side note, here are some of the hotkeys that I memorised during this process:

'1' and '3' to switch between standard view and rounded view

'Shift' + Hold 'Right Click' to pull up the modelling menu -> Go down to 'Circularise Components' to instantly round a selected area

Go to that same menu and click on 'Mirror' to reflect a selected area

This could be wrong as I couldn't get the paint tool to work on all parts of the model -> rendering -> 3D paint tool icon -> select your model -> double click on the paint brush tool to bring up settings -> scroll down to file textures -> assign/edit textures -> turn the size up to 2048 -> press assign/edit textures and then you should be able to paint

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys getting stuck places and having to ask you for help

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou, Numai and Iizuna

**Today has been pretty bad, but my sister, @foodacoochie gave me this idea and it made me giggle and inspired🥺🥺 thanks dude💙**

Warnings: Drugs in Washio’s but they’re for a surgery and being used responsibly and for pain, just the boys getting stuck and not being able to get out of places/things lol

Akaashi Keiji:

Akaashi had been over at your house, you guys were ‘chilling’ and what not, just wasting the Saturday away.

Your family had recently done some renovations on your house, and one of those renovations was changing all of the door nobs.

Your mom had called you downstairs to come talk to your grandmother on the phone.

You knew that you’d be on the phone for a while, so you told Akaashi to do whatever until you got back. You had been gone for 5 minutes when Akaashi needed to use the bathroom.

Luckily, you had one connected to your room!

He walked in the door, shutting it behind him before he froze at the small ‘click’ he heard.

Whipping around he immediately tried the door nob, only to groan when he realized it was locked.

From the outside.

You see, you had insisted on putting the door nob on yourself, but when you did so, you had managed to put the lock on the wrong side of the door.

And when you showed him what you did, he could distinctly remember you locking the *then open* door.

So as soon as he shut it, it locked.

He sighed as he shook his head. He had also distinctly remembered you telling him it would be at the very least 30 minutes before your grandmother would let you go, so he was going to be here awhile.

He did his business then sat on the edge of the bathtub, sitting and waiting until you came back upstairs.

When you came back up to your bedroom, you were surprised to not see Akaashi sitting on your bed where you had left him. 

You softly called his name before hearing him sigh and a defeated sounding ‘in here’ from your bathroom.

You raised an eyebrow before trying the door nob, slapping a hand over your mouth when you realized you had locked the door.

Unable to hold in your giggles, you unlocked the door, almost snorting at the deadpan look your boyfriend gave you.

Washio Tatsuki: 

**he may seem out of character, but it’s because he just got his wisdom teeth out, and as someone who has recently had that done, I know that for some people their personalities do a 180 switch**

Washio had just had his wisdom teeth removed.

At first his mom was going to take him home, but she had to go into work, so you offered to take care of him and take him home from his surgery.

When they walked Washio out into the waiting room, you hurriedly walked over to him, because as soon as the nurses let him go, he started to go down. Giggling when you struggled to hold him up.

Now, keep in mind, Washio is a big guy. He’s 6′2 with a broad build and lots of muscle, so he’s not exactly light.

Seeing as he had just had a major surgery, he was very doped up on drugs, and seeing Washio drugged up was nothing short of hilarious.

He was very clingy and very giggly, laughing at anything he found remotely amusing. A night and day difference from his usually calm and stoic demeanor. 

After you somehow managed to get him in the car, you began to drive him back to his house.

You got to his house and pulled into the drive way.

Before you could help him out of the car, you had to make sure he had a clear path to the couch where he would be sitting.

You had left the keys in the ignition and the air conditioning on because it was a hot day, and let’s face it, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Walking back out to the car you went to open his door, only for the handle not to budge.

Your brows furrowed as you tried to open it, looking to the inside of the door only to see all of the doors locked.

...uh oh..

You knocked on the glass, gaining the attention of a very drowsy looking Washio who just lazily waved when he saw you.

You, who had no way to actually get to him, started frantically pointing to the unlock button, him looking at you like you had grown 3 heads.

He finally tried the door handle, only to find it didn’t open.

You could faintly make out the words ‘i’m stuck’, when he realized he was ‘stuck in the car’.

You watched as he grew more and more frustrated with the door not opening.

You were pointing to the unlock button, him then pressing every button except for the unlock button.

Thankfully, he pressed the window button, rolling it down so you could reach your hand in and unlock the door, finally being able to help him inside.

Konoha Akinori:

Not everyone knows this about your boyfriend, but he is very competitive.

He just so happens to have a younger sister, who is also very competitive.

On this particular day you had been over at his house, his sister had been in the living room with you guys when a movie about dancing or whatever came on.

Konoha jokingly scoffed when the ballerina did the splits, stating that “I could do that” while you rolled your eyes, but his sister laughed, “Yeah okay boomer.” 

Glaring Konoha turned towards his sister, who simply narrowed her eyes back at him, “What was that?” She stood her ground, you nervously watching from the sidelines.

“Boomer, and I stand by it. You have the flexibility of an 80 year old man.” He narrowed his eyes at her before he laughed, standing up and walking to the middle of the floor.

Without any warning he, albeit slowly, fell into the splits, cringing when he got like 5 inches away, entire body shaking.

“s-see?” His sister was laughing as he stayed there, high pitched sounds of pain escaping him.

He, finding himself unable to stand or move for that matter, continued to suffer, heavily contemplating every decision he had ever made.

“y/N, hELp”

Kita Shinsuke:

Kita was very responsible, so you never had to worry about him getting himself into silly situations he couldn’t get himself out of.

But, everyone has their moments.

You and Kita were spending the day with his grandmother!

You guys had gone through old photo books, and made some desserts, now she wanted to teach you and Kita how to finger knit!

It seemed easy enough, and in no time you had gotten the hang of it and were on your way.

Kita however, was having a little more trouble.

He had gotten how to wrap it around his fingers and how to pull it but...

Somewhere along with way, he messed up.

And he messed up bad.

He didn’t really know how it happened, but before he was aware of it his fingers were caught in a tangled web of yarn, somehow he managed to knot both of his hands together, eye brows furrowed as he looked down to his hands.

You held in your laughter when you saw him, hopelessly caught in strings, as he tried to figure out how to get out of them.

It took 20 minutes and both you and granny to release him from his self-made prison.

He stuck to a different activity after that.

Suna Rintaro:

You had a big project coming up, but your boyfriend did not, and wanted to hang out with you.

You, who also wanted to hang out with him, let him as long as he let you work.

He promised he would cause no such distraction and be like a fly on the wall.

That doesn’t mean you believed him, but it was nice he made an effort.

Anyway, after just under an hour he got bored just scrolling through instagram.

So, he got up from his position on your bed and sauntered over to your vanity where he sat.

You didn’t pay him much mind, he was 16 so it’s not like you had to babysit him.

Er- you shouldn’t have to babysit him.

Fiddling around with the things on your desk, he stumbled across the small dish you kept your rings in.

There was one ring in particular that really stuck out to him.

It had a silver band and a dark blue gem, it was really pretty. He remembered you saying you didn’t wear it often, but he couldn’t remember why so he just shrugged and slipped it on his left middle finger.

He had been holding his hand up, looking at it, cause it really was a pretty ring.

All was fine, all was nice, until he tried to remove the ring. Then, some problems were presented.

The most prevalent of those problems being the ring was stuck, like really stuck.

And the second being he remembered why you didn’t wear the ring a lot, it was a size too small, for you.

So it was much too small for him.

Claiming defeat he called your name, defeatedly holding up his hand, and cringing as you called his name.

Ushijima Wakatoshi:

The team had finished practice and were fooling around in the locker room, making stupid bets and doing stupid things

Underestimating just how competitive (and curious) their captain was, Tendo and Yamagata bet 25 dollars Ushijima couldn’t get into a locker, Kawanishi and Shirabu each bet 35 dollars saying he could, and Reon bet 45 saying he would get stuck.

Being genuinely curious what would happen, and being heavily encouraged by his teammates, Semi found an empty locker, rigging it open before ushering the ace in.

It was quite small, and not a comfortable experience at all, but he was also never one to turn down a challenge.

So after some major manipulation and hitting his head, he got fully into the locker.

Tendo and Yamagata forked over their 25 dollars, imploring Reon to do the same before Reon shook his head.

“Let’s see if he can get out before I pay my money.”

All eyes were back on the ace, whose eye brows were furrowed in...concern.

He was stuck.

Bad.

Not wanting to face the wrath of the demon coach, they called the next best candidate to deal with this kind of situation, Ushijima’s girlfriend, you.

Your jaw dropped when Semi told you that your boyfriend was stuck in a locker because...hOw?!?!

Reon made a lot of money that day~

Yahaba Shigeru:

He had been over at your house and the two of you were taking a nap in your bed.

You had both since woken up, and were now on your phones.

You, still very sleepy, weren’t paying attention and before you or Yahaba could stop it your phone had slipped down the crack between your bed and the wall.

You groaned as you dragged your hand down your face, Yahaba, being the wonderful boyfriend he is, offered to get it for you.

He laid on his side as you used his phone to shine the flashlight down the side of your bed.

He stuck his arm down, but it was just barely too short.

Without realizing it he had slipped to the very small edge of the bed, inevitably slipping off only to be caught between the wall and your bed.

He groaned as he felt like he had been stuck to a wooden plank, unable to move any parts of his body.

You felt terrible, seeing as he had offered to get your phone for you and had proceeded to get himself stuck.

You grabbed his arm and shifted yourself to the opposite side of your bed, and after lots of tugging and sounds of pain from your boyfriend, you were able to roll him back onto the bed.

You rolled your eyes with a smile as he waved your phone in the air, a dorky smile on his lips as he had, despite being put in a very uncomfortable situation, managed to get your phone.

Iwaizumi Hajime:

Hanamaki had bought this bag of ‘tricks’ from the dollar store, for fun and what not.

One of the things that had been in there was a Chinese finger trap.

He brought a few of the things into his bag, hoping to trick at least one of the members.

But most of all he wanted to trick Iwaizumi, if nothing else he thought it would be funny.

So, when the Seijoh 3rd years met for lunch in the club room, and you, Iwiazumi’s girlfriend had of course joined them, he decided then was the perfect time to try.

“Yo, Iwaizumi! C’mere!” Iwaizumi, recognizing the teasing tone in Hanamaki’s voice, was instantly on guard, expecting something crazy to be suggested.

“What?” Hanamaki smiled, pulling the finger trap out of his bag, Iwaizumi looked at it, raising an eyebrow at the wing spiker.

“I heard no one has ever been able to put two fingers in this at the same time without getting trapped.” Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, grabbing the trap from Hanamaki and mindlessly stuck on finger in each end of the trap.

Just a few seconds prior, you had looked over Hanamaki’s shoulder, recognizing the trap, but before you could warn your dear boyfriend, he had already stuck his fingers in the trap, and pulled it, tight.

“Hajime...do you know what that is?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowing when he tried to pull his fingers out, only to have the trap get tighter. 

“Hajime, it’s a Chinese finger trap!!” Iwaizumi’s eyes widened before he turned his head to glare at Hanamaki, curses ready on his tongue as Hanamaki and Matsukawa just about died of laughter, Kunimi snickering in the background.

It took 4 people and approximately 7 minutes to free him from the trap.

Futakuchi Kenji: **in tribute to my dear sister who locked herself out of her bathroom today🥰**

You and Futakuchi had gone to the beach with your family for the weekend, and the two of you were relaxing on the beach.

The beach had these lounge chairs, the ones that fold?

Well, you and Futakuchi were getting everything set up, he had just finished setting up the umbrella and you had laid out a large towel and set the bags down.

You guys both sat down and enjoyed the warm sun, and relaxed to the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

About an hour later, Futakuchi decided he wanted a drink, and after asking what you wanted he left on his way.

Unknown to him, these chairs were really tricky.

They were good chairs and really comfortable, but you had to be careful how you sat in them.

After about 10 minutes he returned with the drinks, setting them down on the small cooler.

He went to sit on the lounge chair, expect that he more like flopped onto it, and before he could react the thing had snapped in two, you sitting up after hearing your boyfriend yelp.

You turned your head to see your boyfriend, squished in half by the lounge chair, with no signs of being freed.

After recruiting the help of your dad and a few kind passerby's, you were eventually able to free him of the lounge chair...

but that was after you took a picture and sent it to Aone.

Daishou Suguru:

You and Daishou had been on a date, nothing too fancy, just strolling around the city and what not.

You were just talking about random things when your eye spotted an empty park nearby.

You smirked as you nodded towards it, dragging your boyfriend towards it, you knew he couldn’t resist you if he tried.

You two were just fooling around, him chasing you around and you evading him like you both were 5 and it was ‘boys vs girls’ tag.

You had ran away from him when you spotted the set of toddler swings, y’know, those ones with the leg holes?

Yeah, those ones~

Anyway, you decided not to get in one because ✨danger✨

But your boyfriend took that as a challenge.

Without warning he grabbed the chains and jumped, sliding his legs through the very small holes and sinking into the seat.

You slapped his arm as you laughed, hand on your hip as you judgmentally looked at him.

“You’re gonna get stuck, there’s no way you’re getting out of that by yourself.”

He rolled his eyes, smirk still present on his face as he started to slowly swing back and forth.

You shook your head, shifting your weight to one leg as your arms crossed in front of your chest.

“Okay then, now try to get out.”

He rolled his eyes at your tone, grabbing the chains as he tried to pull himself up.

Only to bring the seat with him.

Your eyes widened as it set in, his smirk disappearing and his own eyes widening when he realized it as well.

He was stuck.

And at that moment, some of the Nekoma boys volleyball team members just happened to be passing by.

Kuroo’s laugh rang throughout the park as you desperately tried to free your boyfriend.

Numai Kazuma:

You and Numai were hanging out at your house, it was Halloween night and you guys were just gonna chill out and watch some movies and eat candy.

But before that, you guys were going to take your younger brother out trick or treating!

Your little brother decided he wanted to be a cowboy, and his outfit came with a pair of plastic handcuffs.

You were helping your little brother get his costume on while Numai messed around with the handcuffs.

He had latched one side onto the table leg, mindlessly scrolling through his phone as he fiddled with the cuffs.

He doesn’t know what came over him, but without thinking he latched the empty side of the handcuffs onto his wrist, tightly onto his wrist.

He didn’t think much of it, until it sunk in.

Had he really just done that??

You were fixing your brother’s costume when you heard your boyfriend call your name.

“Uh, Y/n?” You hummed, continuing to work on his costume.

“Where’s the key to the handcuffs?” 

“Oh, they got thrown away with the package, that’s why I set them..over...there..Kazuma.”

You turned around to see him nervously smiling while his hand was indeed handcuffed to the coffee table.

You blanched as you remembered the trash had already been taken out, so they key was gone.

Glaring at your boyfriend you sighed, shaking your head before you started to laugh, hiding your mouth as you continued to laugh at his misfortune.

Eventually you did help him.

It took 3 tries and 4 different tools, but with the help of your dad you were able to get his wrist free of the handcuffs.

Iizuna Tsukasa:

Iizuna has 2 sisters.

1 older sister, and 1 younger sister (ayyyee middle children let’s go-)

You just so happened to be very good friends with your boyfriends sisters, and you guys often had a lot of fun together~

One of the wats you guys had fun was messing with your boyfriend.

Todays scheme: Dress Tsukasa up as a girl. Simply because you could.

And seeing as he lost a bet to you the other day, he couldn’t refuse it.

Luckily, his older sister had a dress she accidentally ordered in a size too big, it would still be snug on him, but it would do the job.

His older sister did his make up, you worked on his outfit as the youngest fixed his hair, him sitting through the whole ordeal trying not to take away too much trauma from it.

Leaving the room so he could change, you all patiently waited as he got changed into the dress, laughing at the pained noises he made as he slipped on the dress and shoes.

You couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of you as your boyfriend stumbled out of the room, heels way too small and dress uncomfortably tight.

You all snapped the pictures you needed and he sacrificed what was left of his dignity.

Waving off you three, he hobbled back into his room, kicking off the heels and attempting to pull the dress over his head.

I say attempting because as he tried to move his arms to grab it he made a very disturbing realization.

He couldn’t grab the hem of the dress...

he couldn’t even reach behind him.

He was stuck.

And the only ‘help’ he had was his sisters and his girlfriend. 

[eloves-writes]

a pause in reality

[spencer reid x reader]

summary : you and spencer finish work late, admit your feelings & spend the night lying on your apartment floor talking

a/n : this is an extension of this fic that people seemed to like! enjoy, it’s 12:11am + i’m tired, mwah <3

couple : spencer reid x reader

content warnings : none

———————————

it had been a couple weeks since spencer came over to your apartment in the middle of the night, and you hadn’t spoken to him much since. he had taken a week off work for ‘personal reasons’ and then you’d been completely overloaded with work after that so there hadn’t been much room for conversation. the lack of conversation had provided much opportunity for simply observing the doctor’s existence; you liked watching him work. it wasn’t in a weird way, and not in a sexual way; there was just something about how he quickly flipped pages of case files and twirled his pen around his fingers as he thought what to write that was quite encapsulating. you thought he was quite beautiful in the most winsome way, like he wasn’t outwardly trying to impress you but everything he did still made you bite your lip and smile. 

despite your admiration, you missed the usual tidbits of conversation that came with sitting on the desk opposite spencer and being his best friend; the random ‘fun fact!’s and ‘did you know?’s that hadn’t been so common since you’d spent the night together. well. not spent the night together spent the night together, but you fell asleep cuddled up on your couch and didn’t move until the morning. it wasn’t exactly awkward, but you’d both felt a heavying shift in the usual romantic tension that circled you. the intimacy that came with falling asleep on each other didn’t help the feelings you were both trying to keep bottled up for the sake of your jobs, but at the end of the day that job was behavioural profiling so it was pretty clear you felt the same way, and you had for a long time.

“hey y/n,” prentiss said, perching on the edge of your desk. it had been yet another late night at the office, the hour hand of the clock was just shy of 10pm.

“hey you,” you replied. “i’ve still got another case report to finish, i won’t be long.”

“you are the wooorst,” she moaned dramatically. “i can’t wait to be out of here, we spent far too much time in this office.”

you smiled at her and rolled your eyes. “i’ll ask garcia if she can drive me home, em. i don’t want to hold you up any longer.”

“ok, sure, thanks. have a good weekend y/n, reid.” she gave you a quick hug and waved as she left the office. emily usually drove you to and from work, partly because you didn’t like driving for an hour at 8am in the morning, but mostly because you always brought her coffee and she loved you for it. spencer looked over the divider between your desks and cleared his throat.

“you, um, need a lift home?”

“yeah, why?” you replied without thinking as you tried to speed-write the last few lines of your report.

“i thought maybe i could drive you, it’s late and i, um, wouldn’t want garcia to go out of the way when we live on the same road. it’s not a problem, i’d actually like to- i mean-”

you chuckled under your breath. your eyes met and he let out a nervous giggle.

“you can drive me home, spencer. thank you.”

his voice raised a couple octaves. “ok.”

you chuckled again and closed the tab you were looking at on your computer before grabbing your bag and coat. he followed suit, throwing his satchel on his shoulder and fiddling with the strap as he waited for you to gather the last of your things.

“ready?” he asked, biting back an excited-nervous smile.

“yeah, i just need to give this to hotch,” you motioned to the case file you were holding, “i’ll meet you in the elevator.”

spencer mumbled an understanding and you went your separate ways before meeting up again in the elevator. it was only a few minutes, but the tension was ever-thickening and you were glad to get out on the ground floor. you figured it would be a miracle if you made it all the way home without jumping on him. you didn’t.

“you know what hotch said to me when i left,” you began as you walked to his car. the silence had become unbearably uncomfortable. “he asked if we were going on a date.”

spencer looked up, wide-eyed and blushing. he fumbled with his keys and unlocked his car. “that’s, haha, that’s funny.”

you were much used to the reality-based teasing from the team.

“yeah, you know hotch. always a joker,” you replied light-heartedly. you both climbed into the car, spencer in the driver’s seat for once. he turned towards you, and in a fraction of a moment, he moved in to kiss you. it wasn’t a conscious decision, it wasn't a choice- it was a reflex. in that fraction of a moment, spencer reid felt an all-compelling yet natural urge to lean over and kiss you.

“woah,” you pulled away before he could reach you. “were you about to kiss me?”

he sat back in his seat and scratched his neck awkwardly. you suddenly regretted saying anything at all. “sorry, i shouldn’t have … let’s just go-”

“no, it’s ok,” you laughed. “continue.”

“oh, ok.”

your lips finally met, and it felt like the stars aligning. all the months of tension, the sneaking glances, the late night spying, they’d all added up to this kiss in the front seat of spencer’s car in the quantico parking lot. and this was what you’d been chasing, this was the pause of reality you could only match to the quietest and earliest hours of the morning. you placed your hands on his face as you broke the kiss, his own hands still firmly holding your head and pushing your hair out of your face. the two of you froze like that, simply absorbing the moment and framing it in your minds in case you didn’t get this luxury again.

a distant car horn disturbed your focus, and spencer finally started to drive you home. he was a good driver, if one could drive gently he certainly did. it wasn’t like being in a car with morgan, when you had to hold on for dear life and prey he wouldn’t crash- he never did, but derek’s disregard for road safety was a little concerning. in a total contrast, spencer obeyed absolutely any and every traffic law.

“you know you drive like a grandma, spence?” you joked, letting your inner thoughts out of your head.

“hmm, what did you say?”

“nothing,” you chuckled to yourself. “do you think we could grab some takeout on the way home?”

he smiled. “sure. by home do you, um, mean your apartment? you want me to come to your apartment?”

you nodded and leaned over to kiss him again. you were so done pretending you didn’t like him; you’d wasted enough time dancing around your feelings for him, you didn’t want to waste anymore. he felt the exact same- he’d never really experienced love before but he was pretty sure this was as close as he could get to a soulmate. a twin flame. there was an unspoken understanding between you, you just got each other in a way no one else did. which was also an advantage when you asked to get takeout on the way home and spencer automatically pulled up to your shared favourite chinese restaurant without having to ask.

within an hour, you were both sat on the floor of your apartment eating noodles and discussing whatever topics came to mind. first it was work, then literature, then music, and now you’d settled on a much more mature topic of office gossip. the time had slipped away as you spent the evening together, the clock ticking far past midnight as you talked. your biggest living room window was wide open to let in the night breeze and city ambience, much like it had been the last time spencer had been in your apartment, except this time there wasn’t the pestering weight of feelings on your shoulder. everything felt shiny and new, that familiar late-night vibe recast with fresher feelings of domesticity. you fixed your gaze onto the young doctor as he tucked a pillow under his head to lay on the floor, studying every line of his frame as he stretched his arms. you had always thought him quite spindly, but you could see his lower stomach where his shirt had ridden up and it was quite defined.

“are you checking me out, y/l/n?”

“maybe,” you replied breezily, shuffling across to lay your head on top of him. he brought an arm down from behind his head and wrapped it around you. it felt like there was the world outside, and then you and spencer. it didn’t feel like everything else had stopped, it just felt like right there in your apartment you were detached from it all. it was you and spencer, and that was completely ok. he cleared his throat and began to talk; he was reading from memory a book you’d told him months ago was one of your favourites. you smiled to yourself like an idiot, glad he couldn’t see your face. all your life, you had craved the exact feeling you felt in that moment- an escape from reality the way a gas station was a break from a long road trip. you felt loved, and most of all you felt ready to fall asleep and wake up well-rested for knowing your heart was at peace with your mind for the first time.

[lovelybucky1]

Strawberry Kisses- Chapter 3

warnings: none, 18+ minors dni

series masterlist

We stop in front of a small cafe and I smile up at Spencer. The sign was written in fancy cursive with a cute coffee cup. He steps in front of me and opens the red door for me. He shuts the door behind us and offers to take my jacket and hangs it next to his. I followed him to a table for two in the back of the cafe that was placed in front of a large window that had a good view of the garden outside.

I wasn’t sure what I expected from Spencer, but this definitely wasn’t it.

A waitress comes to our table and hands us menus before returning to her other customers. I look over the menu, trying to decide what I want. I could spend an hour looking through their entire menu, but it seems that Spencer read the entire thing before I even reached the extensive dessert selection.

Sensing my confusion, Spencer says, “I read fast.”

Just as I was about to reply, the waitress returned with two glasses of water.

“What looks good to you?”, she asks.

Maybe I was imagining it, but I could have sworn I saw Spencer’s eyes on me when she said that. I look up at her and tell her my order, hoping she can’t tell how Spencer is affecting me.

“And for you?”, she asks Spencer.

“I’ll have the grilled chicken sandwich with no tomatoes and a lemonade, thank you”, he smiled.

That smile.

The waitress collected our menus and left to the kitchen, leaving Spencer and I alone again. I fiddle with my napkin, shredding it absentmindedly in my lap.

Spencer reaches across the table and takes my forearms in his hands.

“Why are you suddenly so nervous? We walked all the way here and you were fine, but now you’re making a mess out of your napkin”, he smiles.

“I-I don’t know”, I shrug. I notice how close together our faces are and I jump back. I free my arms from his grip and instead of being offended like I expected, he just smiled back at me with stars in his eyes.

The waitress returns with our food and as we eat, the awkward tension between us turns into a comfortable energy.

“Did you know that the chicken was domesticated in 2000 B.C. in Southwest Asia?”, he asks, looking down at his sandwich. I laugh and shake my head. “Yeah, and birds are descendants from dinosaurs, in fact, chickens and ostriches are the closest related to the T-Rex out of every living animal.”

I lean my chin against my hand and sip my drink.

“Tell me something else.”

“Um… Oh! Did you know that one-third of adults still sleep with some kind of comfort object?”

“I didn’t but I believe that. I sleep with a squishy pillow every night”, I grin.

“What about you?” Spencer shrugs in response.

“Sometimes when I’m home I like to sleep with this teddy bear I got at a carnival a while ago. It helps when the nightmares get bad, I guess.

“Does it have a name?”

“Not really. I’ve never talked about it before so I never felt the need to give it a name” I gasped with mock-offence.

“Just because you’re ashamed of your friend doesn’t mean they shouldn’t have a name”

“I am not ashamed!”, he laughs. “I’m just saying, you don’t see many grown men walking around bragging about their stuffed animals.”

“I don’t know, I think it’s cute that you sleep with a teddy bear.”

There it is, that gorgeous blush.

“I don’t think anyone has ever called me cute before.” I take his wrists in my hands like he did to me earlier.

“Then all of your friends must be blind because you’re adorable.” If it was possible, his face flushed redder.

“D-do you want dessert?”, he asks. I nod.

“Surprise me, Doc. I trust you won’t poison me.”

He walks up to the counter and orders. He leans against the glass case as he waits and he makes silly faces at me. We end up playing a couple rounds of rock-paper-scissors by the time he receives the desserts.

He returns to the table and places my plate down in front of me. It’s a pink, fluffy mousse topped with fresh berries.

“I hope you like strawberry”, he says as he sits.

“I do, thank you.” He grins around a forkful of chocolate cake.

“I figured. You seem like the strawberry type.” I give him a confused look. “You’re sweet. You have an innocence that made me think you prefer fresh, light things. Your phone’s wallpaper is the beach, so I assume you like Summer and the lip-gloss that you’ve been applying is strawberry flavored.”

“Pretty spot on. Is this what you profilers like to do for fun; to get inside people’s heads?”, I tease.

“It’s just basic data collection, I’m not inside of you.” Spencer’s eyes widened and his cheeks flushed as he realized what he said. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it to come out like that!”, he said hurriedly. I stop him with a hand to his forearm.

“I’m flattered, but that’s more of a third date kind of thing.”

“Fifty-six percent of women admit to having sex on the first date, and thirty-six percent say that it lead to a long term relationship”, Spencer said. I give him a slight teasing smirk.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to be another number in the statistics.”

“I-”, he stuttered.

“I’m just messing with you, Doc. Let’s get going, my lunch break is almost over.” I reach to take my wallet from my bag but before I could get it out, Spencer is already up at the counter paying the bill. I walk quickly over to him.

“Let me get half”, I say.

“I asked you to lunch. This one’s on me”, he says, smiling down at me. I roll my eyes playfully.

“Fine, but I get the next one.”

“Fair’s fair”, he says. The person behind the counter hands him the receipt which he folds up and tucks into his pocket. He retrieves our coats and he holds mine up so I can put it on easier. Once we’re dressed, he opens the door for me and I step out.

“You’re such a gentleman, Dr. Reid”, I say with a smile. He returns the smile but doesn’t respond.

We walk in comfortable silence on the way back to headquarters, the journey seeming shorter than before. We reach the lobby and I have to practically drag Spencer up the stairs by his hand.

We get to my floor and I let go of his hand reluctantly, finding comfort in the warm hold he had on me.

“I had a really nice time today”, I say.

“I did too”, he says softly.

“If I were to schedule a follow-up, would you be available?”, I ask hesitantly.

“Of course”, he replies with seriousness.

“You better start on those stairs. Without me to encourage you, you may never reach the top”, I laugh.

Spencer groans and walks out the door. Before he disappears behind the wall, he gives me a small wave and I can’t help but feel warmth in my chest.

[sambvcks]

redefined, b.b. x reader

summary: just because those ten words no longer wreak havoc on his mind does not mean they are gone. just redefined.

warnings: mentions of food, blood, gunshot wound

word count: 3.7k....whoops

author’s note: first standalone! i’m also itching to work on a sam story next. the last episode still lives in my mind rent free and this is a reworking of that which diverges from civil war and we get one big happy avenging family that aren’t dead :)

[ read on ao3 | masterlist | inbox | join my taglist! ]

Longing

An Avenger.

The concept was still so foreign to Bucky, despite dozens of successful missions under his belt and a permanent residence in the tower. Still, every morning he sprung up in bed expecting to still be in some run-down apartment halfway across the world, on the run.

Instead, he would awake on a plush mattress that offered little back support. He would shuck on the first shirt his bleary eyes could see and pad into the hallway, the smell of fresh coffee overtaking his superhuman sense of smell. You would be perched at the kitchen counter, pouring over mission files stained with coffee rings that Tony would later complain about.

Steve and Sam would have already come through on their way to their morning run, the coffee pot running dangerously low. You’d already placed his favorite mug nearby, two packets of sugar emptied into the bottom. A routine.

Bucky didn’t think he’d ever have a routine again.

His hand would press against your shoulder in a familiar greeting as he passed, you’d grin up at him with sleepy eyes and a lazy smile before returning to your work. Your cereal sat forgotten beside you, the overly sweetened kid’s choice growing soggy.

It was a silent and comfortable interaction. Neither worked to fill the quiet or felt the need to. Even with Steve, there was always talking and planning and ‘what about this’. With you, it was so natural to just exist how he was in that moment. No excuses, no whispered apologies.

He pushed his back against the sink as he sipped at his coffee, eyes immediately settling on your distracted figure. Your pajamas were wrinkled, mouth formed into a perfect concentrated from as you hunched uncomfortably, hand scribbling furiously. He swallowed and decided you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, especially with your coffee breath and fingernails chewed to nubs.

He wanted so desperately to move across the kitchen and press himself perfectly against you, to push aside your paperwork and demand your sole attention. His hand clenched into a fist as he longed to feel your soft, round cheeks in his hands, how warm you would feel against the cool metal of his left and how you’d nuzzle closer still.

He hadn’t heard the dragging footsteps of Steve and Sam returning from their run and didn’t even notice them until they were settled at the doorway, watching him watch you.

“Morning.” Steve grinned, all knowing. Bucky cleared his throat and refocused on his mug.

“Morning.” Bucky replied with a look that said ‘don’t say anything’.

Rusted

Bucky learned that if you weren’t cooped up in your room or camped out on the kitchen island, you were tucked away in Tony’s garage. On slow days where it seemed everyone was off in their own little world, Bucky would know to find you under the hood of one of Tony’s vintage cars, each kept in pristine condition, but you claimed that ‘there’s always something to work on’.

Bucky was never a car guy. His family was too poor to even think of ever owning his own car. He didn’t even have his own license and technically couldn’t legally ride his bike either. He found out quickly that being an Avenger meant the term legal could be bent a bit. So, he wasn’t a car guy. But the sight of you with streaks of grease across your face and your raggedy workshop clothes would have him buying one just to see you work on it.

You were notoriously protective of your little hideaway, the music loud and the sound of metal ringing as you fixed and fiddled with every little thing. Steve nearly got a wrench to the face when he tried to distract you from Tony’s antique Chevy.

Bucky was different, though. He was always different.

He would sit himself on a tall stool positioned next to one of Tony’s many rolling tool chests. You’d call out a tool and he’d rifle through the collection until he found what he thought was the right one and only slightly tease him when he’d emerge with the wrong one. Typically, you’d spend these afternoons in silence, the thumping of the heavy base of whatever crazy metal album you picked the only soundtrack to your work.

Sometimes, though, you’d play gentle rock music. Bucky would ask questions on what you were doing, how you learned to do all of this, why you did it when Tony worked on these cars enough for the both of you.

You’d fish your rag from your pocket, concentrating on scrubbing the grease from under your fingernails as you answered.

“I like using my hands. I like fixing things. For every car that Tony has in this garage, there are hundreds just like it sitting in junkyards gathering cobwebs and rust.” You looked up at him from under eyelashes and Bucky knew you were speaking about much more than just hunks of metal. “They’re worthy of love and care.”

You were talking about him, too.

Seventeen

Bucky didn’t think this superhero business would have so many parties. There seemed to be a celebration for everything. Galas, fundraisers, full on parades whenever Tony happened to wake up in a good mood.

At least this one is a holiday, he thought to himself as he nursed his third beer of the hour. Not that it did anything other than keep his hands occupied.

The year was coming to a close, and the top floor of the Avengers Tower was decked in golden confetti and banners to ensure no one forgot. The music was obnoxiously loud, and the lyrics made little sense, but everyone seemed to be having a good time mingling and even venturing to the dance floor.

No matter how many times Sam tried to drag him in with an invisible rope, Bucky was not going to dance. Well. Maybe he would if you asked.

The party had been in full swing for hours now, with only ten minutes until the ball a few blocks up finally dropped and he could sneak away to his room without a teasing ‘bedtime already, old timer?’ from Nat.

Still, the party raged on and he eyed the glass door to the balcony. He downed the last of his beer, brushing past enthusiastic partygoers with his shoulders hunched forward in some attempt to minimize the space he took up in the room that only seemed to be getting smaller. He caught Steve’s eye on the way out and plastered on a smile in response to his disappointed look.

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as soon as the glass door slid closed behind him. His eyes closed as he leaned back against it, the chill of the December New York air blew his hair in every direction.

“Fancy meeting you here.” You were sat in the far corner, so well hidden he hadn’t even noticed you, though he had been on the lookout for you all night. “Tired of the festivities?”

“And Tony’s music.” He grumbled as he fell into the seat beside you.

“Been waiting for you for the past thirty minutes. Honestly, you made it a lot longer than I could’ve in there.”

You were waiting for him. You wanted him to be there, with you, tucked away from everyone else’s prying eyes. He wanted that, too. Sometimes he wanted it so much it scared him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, doll. It’s not polite for a gentleman to make a girl wait.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll find it in myself to forgive you.” Your shoulder pressed against his, eyes focused on the smattering of buildings surrounding you. Identical parties were happening in each of them, you were sure. “Can you believe another year is gone?”

“I can’t believe I’m about to make it to 2017 and my back hasn’t given out yet.”

You laughed, loud and unabashedly in a way only Bucky could make you laugh. Head thrown back and eyes glittering from the city lights, Bucky wanted to spend every new year you would allow him to by your side, trying his best to make you laugh again.

“Well,” You stood to peer over the glass railing, Bucky close behind you. You could hear the drunken cries inside as the countdown begun. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” Bucky offered his hand to you. You took it easily.

5, 4, 3…

He wanted nothing more than to pull you close, to finally press a kiss on the lips that had thrown teasing remarks at him during missions. To once and for all end this little dance you both loved so much. But you looked so perfect.

Bucky wasn’t ready to ruin that perfection with everything wrong with him quite yet.

“Happy 2017, Bucky.” You whispered as the fireworks started, but Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes from you.

“Happy 2017, doll.”

Daybreak

The mission had been long and grueling. The week-long stakeout turned into two and quickly turned into a month away. You can’t remember the last time you’d had a good night of sleep that wasn’t interrupted with Bucky’s hand on your shoulder, telling you it was your turn to keep watch.

It wasn’t a horrible mission, more of an exercise in patience and restraint than anything. Bucky’s stories kept you entertained enough, and he was a good partner. Which is why you were paired together more often than not.

Still, it was nice to finally collapse into your familiar bed, not even bothering to kick of shoes or take a much-needed shower. Your sleeping schedule was all out of whack and you tossed and turned, despite the exhaustion seeping through your bones.

After fifteen minutes, you finally huffed a sigh of defeat and stumbled back to your feet. You showered, which was a few good days overdue, and dressed in your largest, most comfortable pajamas.

You weren’t surprised to see Bucky up as well, sitting at the dining table with a mug of fresh coffee.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His foot kicked out the seat beside him as an invitation.

“Sleeps overrated, anyways.” You shrugged, slumping into the seat and pressing your face into the cool glass of the table.

“Sleep is good for you.” He insisted, reaching forward to brush aside the hair that had curtained over your face. “You deserve a good night’s rest.”

“So do you, Buck.”

He stayed silent for a while, just sipping at his coffee and stealing glances at you, face trained out the floor to ceiling windows. He really didn’t know what he deserved, anymore. Sure, he had made some semblance of peace with what the Winter Soldier had done with his body. He was better, that was certain.

Worthy of you and all your unwavering sweetness? He wasn’t so sure.

You idly chatted about nothing for hours, filling comfortable silence with talks of the mission and the food poisoning he had given you when he tried to make dinner two weeks in. You sat side by side until day broke the next morning, eyes squinting at the sun peeking over skyscrapers and finally finding the need to fall shut in rest.

“I guess I should say ‘good morning’ instead of ‘good night’.” You were the first to stand, shuffling towards the hallway that led to your bedroom.

“Good morning.” He answered as you padded away, deciding he would be just fine losing sleep every night if it meant he could watch the sunrise by your side.

Furnace

“Doesn’t Tony make enough money to keep this place at least habitable?” You grumbled as you fell into the couch beside Bucky.

“I’m fine.”

Bucky sat in his patent jeans and t-shirt, unphased by the temperature that practically had your teeth chattering. You were bundled in multiple layers, including one of the many sweatshirts he’d wear jogging on cold mornings and blankets you had stolen off his bed. Your glare from under your cocoon of warmth rivaled even his.

“I’m not a muscle-y super soldier-”

“You think I’m muscle-y?”

“-that runs so hot you’re basically a personal furnace.”

“Oh, so now I’m hot.”

“I would strangle you to death right now, but I’m about to lose my fingers to hypothermia.” You burrowed further into your smattering of blankets with a violent chill running down your spine. Bucky simply rolled his eyes and marked the spot in the book he had been reading before you stormed in.

“C’mere.”

He balled up a fistful of one of your blankets, tugging you even closer to him. You opened your arms to allow for direct contact, sighing contently as your face pressed into his shoulder and legs tangled with his. You sighed contently as you welcomed his warmth, shimmying as close as you could get.

“Better?”

“The best.”

Nine

“Do you ever think what your life would be like? If you’d gotten to go home?”

Even a year ago, this question would have turned Bucky into a brooding mess. He would have delved into every little moment he had missed, every plan that had been turned upside down when he fell from that train all those years ago. But he was better now, more contemplative. He wouldn’t drown in the idea of what could have been because he knows what it’s like to be on the other side.

“I like to think I would’ve gone to college.”

“Really?”

“You calling me dumb, doll?”

“No! You’re the smartest person I know. I’m just picturing you at college. Carrying textbooks and wooing all the dames.” You fell into him at the thought, a fake swoon overtaking your face.

“I’d be too busy studying for dames.”

“Studying what?”

“I always liked math. Maybe engineering or something. Wanted to be a teacher before the draft.” He shrugged like the information was no big deal, but to you it was everything.

“Professor Barnes. Kind of sexy.”

“Oh, shut up.” But his words held no malice. Instead, he was grinning that cheeky grin that pulled his cheeks into perfect rosy apples and his eyes crinkled in joy. “I wanted to have ten kids.”

“Ten?!”

“So we’d be a dozen. My own little army of mini-Buckys to take over the world. Couple sets of twins, maybe. Definitely as many girls as I could manage.”

Of course Bucky would be a girl-dad. Playing dress-up for fake tea parties and scaring off boys when they’d come ‘round for first dates. You could imagine how he’d learn how to take care of their hair and plait intricate braids when they asked. He would make breakfast for the whole bunch, kiss his wife goodbye before escorting them to the bus stop and taking off for a day of teaching classes. Bucky would be an amazing father.

An amazing husband, too.

“I think ten may be pushing it, Barnes.”

Bucky pictured it, too. A little more modern than maybe the image you conjured up. Teaching was replaced with small missions. The gaggle of kids were smaller, and he wouldn’t have to kiss his wife goodbye. You’d be in the car next to him, headed to the tower for your morning briefings together.

“I’ll settle for nine.”

Benign

If you were to ask any New Yorker what they think the Avengers do on Friday afternoons, they would probably say something like ‘kicking ass!’. None would get even close to what your actual routine looked like.

None would imagine The Winter Soldier lounging in a bathrobe, hair knotted into a bun at the top of his head as his fellow world-saving Avenger spread some green goop over his face. Chinese takeout boxes littered the living room coffee table, his feet were bubbling in warm foot spa.

“To keep your youthful complexion!” You had promised him. He didn’t comment on the obvious sound of your phone’s camera clicking.

He knew he must have looked completely ridiculous. But as you sunk into the couch next to him with identical spa treatments covering you, he couldn’t find it in himself to really care.

He never thought in a million years that he would have the chance of boring, completely benign afternoons. He thought he would be sidelined to violent missions for the rest of his life, to being thawed out like a microwave meal every time he was deemed useful. Sure, he felt a bit ridiculous when you reached over to adjust the slices of cucumber placed over his eyelids, but he also felt so relaxed.

As you settled even closer to him, head tilting to rest on his shoulder, he would happily take the teasing remarks from Sam when you showed him the pictures.

Homecoming

Peter wasn’t crazy about the idea of getting ready for his senior year homecoming dance at the tower. But Aunt May was upstate on vacation with Happy and he still didn’t know how to tie a tie.

“Oh, you look so handsome, Peter!” You gushed as your fingers worked on his tie. Bucky stood to the side, holding MJ’s corsage in a delicate plastic container. Peter had been careful to find the perfect color, with a little guidance from you. The white dahlias matched perfectly with Peter’s light green tie.

“Thanks, Ms. (Y/L/N).”

Peter, ever the polite kid.

“Be safe, kid. Have her home at a reasonable time and no wandering hands.” Bucky handed over the corsage with a supportive slap to Peter’s shoulder. He was quick to promise that he would follow all the rules before making a dash to the door, just as you were about to ask for pictures.

“Don’t wait up!” He called as the elevator dinged behind him.

“They grow up so fast.” You sniffled. “I didn’t even go to my homecoming dances.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody ever asked me.” You shrugged, collecting the other ties Peter had picked from and hanging them carefully over your arm. Tony didn’t have to know that Peter was taking one of his priceless Versace neckties to a homecoming dance.

“To be fair, I would’ve been scared shitless to ask you to a dance.” Bucky followed close behind. “And I fought a war.”

“That’s sweet, Buck.” You brushed him off as you retreated into Tony’s closet.

“No, really.” His hand caught your elbow. “I would’ve been the luckiest guy in town if I had you on my arm.”

You fell asleep that night imagining you and Bucky twirling around a dance hall without a care in the world.

One

Steve’s hand was firm against your shoulder, his tactical glove soaked and dripping with your blood. Your eyes were unfocused, head lulling every so often when the fight to keep it steady just seemed too difficult. Sam was at your other side, cracking jokes to try to keep your attention on him and not of the literal bullet lodged in your shoulder.

You were escorted from the jet in a flurry, doctor’s hands replacing Steve’s. You barely winced when you were administered painkillers and the ache begun to subside. Before you could blink, you were lifted onto a gurney in the medical bay and the clink of the bullet that had been dug from your flesh rang through the room as it clattered into a metal dish.

Bucky ran in just as the doctor finished maneuvering a long roll of gaze around your shoulder, scheduling a time for you to return to have it cleaned and reapplied again.

“What happened?” He brushed past the doctor without a second glance, eyes trained on your figure pressed against the sterile hospital bed. “Steve said-”

“It’s nothing. Steve likes to be dramatic.”

“-that you were shot!”

“Oh, well. Yeah, that happened.” You moved to sit up, your arm immediately giving out under the weight. Bucky moved even closer to help you, hand careful on your back like you were made of glass. “But just the one time.”

“As far as I’m concerned, one is too many.” He watched the gauze turn darker against your skin; your eyes screwed shut in pain as your knuckles turned white against the sheets. “And you’re never going on a mission without me again.”

Freight Car

“You’re free.”

He remembers those worlds so clearly, it’s like him and Ayo are still sat next to that crackling fire in Wakanda. He thought that had been it. He would never again worry about those ten phrases that erased Bucky Barnes and allowed a machine to emerge from his memory.

As he stole glances of you from the corner of his eye, shadowed by his unruly hair, he knew those words still very much existed in his mind.

They weren’t a means to an end, anymore. He didn’t have to grit his teeth and clench his fists to fight them off. They were new, now. He saw each of those words in you and realized just how important they are now they they’ve found a new meaning.

His love for you came easy.

One second, he was looking at his friend. She was looking back at him and he felt safe.

Your fingers brushed over his shoulder, where flesh turned to metal, and you looked away as though you hadn’t just made him fall in love with you with a single touch.

It took three years for Bucky to make a move. Another party, another escape plan to the balcony where you were waiting for him, like always. The last time you had found yourselves in that position, he had been too unsure. Too wary of what it would mean and if it was too soon.

Now, he didn’t care. He just wanted you and to be selfish and not think about consequences when he leaned forward and finally pressed his lips to yours.

You pulled back, but not far.

Something clicked.

Your love for him hit you like a freight car. Swooping in from nowhere but really, you should have felt the rattling of the tracks beneath your feet. You should have seen all the signs that you loved him and he loved you back. In stolen glances and easy afternoons, in hard missions and bloodshed. He was there, and he looked at you like that. Like everything his body had done was to finally make it to you in this moment.

He waited, patient. He had waited this long, what was another few seconds as the realization washed over your features?

“Oh.” Was your clever whisper.

“Yeah.” Bucky’s hands cradled your face, “Took you long enough.”

taglist: @bibliophilewednesday @teti-menchon0604​ @thiswasnevermylifefromtony​ @spid3rgwen​ @beautyandthebleh​ @victoriabaker112213​ @orthellqs @phasma-trash​

[outerbankspreferences]

Is It Just Me? - Chase Stokes

Is It Just Me – Chase Stokes

 Word Count: 2893

 MASTERLIST

It's been way too long for me to find it this hard Sitting alone, my fingers picking the sofa apart An attempt to distract from the fact that I miss you I wonder if your friends have had to carry you home And stay for the night because they don't want to leave you alone Way before it was fun, it's becoming an issue

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

 It had been exactly 3 months and 13 days since you and Chase had broken up. You wished it would have been a shock to you, but you had seen this coming. Things with Chase were great in the beginning. He was caring and sweet towards you. You could remember a time someone had cared for you as he had. You always supported Chase with everything he wanted to do with his life. You met him when he had just started out acting, and you were proud to watch his career blossom to the extent it had.

 But had someone told you 6 months ago that you guys wouldn’t be together anymore you would have denied the accusations. 6 months ago, you thought Chase was in love with you.

 Chase had been going back and forth to North Carolina for auditions and eventually got the leading role in the television series. You spent the first month with him and his new cast mate Rudy, having the time of your lives with the other people on the show. The whole cast would go out to different clubs every weekend enjoying spending time together.

 Just a little over 6 months later you were still going to clubs but this time on separate sides of the country. You couldn’t process what had happened in a healthy manner and instead turned to going out with your friends every weekend to keep your mind off things. It always ended the same, one of your friends dragging you up the stairs of your once shared apartment because you were too drunk to do it yourself. They had grown accustomed to the weekend ritual of getting you sleep wear and a bucket for the morning.

 Then you would wake in the morning, puking the nights content in the bucket popping Advil for the headache and dragging yourself to couch, throwing on some stupid movie that you wouldn’t be able to watch anyways. Instead, you would pick at the loose strings of the sofa thinking of all the times you spent in the apartment with Chase.

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 As you sit picking away at the sofa, you mind wanders to Chase. You still follow everyone on Instagram, and you were still good friends with Rudy, so you could see everyone’s stories. Rudy had been the only one to keep in touch with you, which surprised you because he and Chase seemed to be such good friends.

 You wondered if Rudy ever asked about you to Chase, and then you wondered what Chase’s reaction would be. Would his heart be in his stomach at every mention of your name, or would he simply shrug like you guys had never been more then distant friends?

 You sat wondering if Chase ever thought back to the day at the airport. The way he let you walk through security with no more then just a side a hug you would give a sibling. Wishing you a good flight and see you later before leaving. He hadn’t even waited for you to board the plane.

 There were so many things you had wanted to say to him. You want to tell him you loved him, that you would fight for him. More so you wanted him to fight for you, for the years you had spent together. To fight for the promises he made to you, the ones you made together and the ones to come. You wanted to apologize for not being enough, but you couldn’t find the right words, so you watched him walk out of your life.

 I heard a rumor you've been spending some time With that blonde girl that you work with and I know she's exactly your type And my miserable mind's running wild with the picture Or are you there by yourself, dialing, redialing my number? And I'm calling your mother, spilling tears on my jumper again The way I am

I know it's cruel But I kind of hope you're tortured too

 1 month later, Chase’s mother, Jennifer, had called you because she had seen the announcement on Instagram. The two of you had been close while dating Chase considering how close he was with her. Your mother lived down south, and you didn’t get to see her that often, so Jennifer was a close second.

 You had heard rumors from Drew and Rudy about Chase and Maddie hanging out together more, and it didn’t come as a shock to you. In the last bit of your relationship, you played second fiddle to her on multiple occasions. “It’s probably nothing, it because they have scenes together.” Rudy would make excuses over facetime when he watched your face drop at the mention of her name. “Yeah, you’re probably right, nothing to get worked up over.” You responded in a less then convincing tone, “she seemed super cool the couple of times I met her.” “Yeah she is. I think under different circumstances the two of you could have been friends.” He encouraged.

 When the nights started to get cold in LA again you found yourself struggling to sleep. It was at these times you would reread old text messages and look through old pictures of the two you. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but you weren’t ready to move on. Chase had extra time to mourn the lose of the relationship while you were still grieving. It was on these cold nights alone in the apartment you shared that you began to wonder if he was thinking about you. Was he sitting next to her thinking about you? Was he wondering whether he should call you or just delete your number?

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 It was early in the morning in North Carolina and Chase was sitting on the patio of his shared apartment with Rudy. The sun was just starting to rise in the distance as he found himself restless yet again. He had been awake for about an hour just laying in his bed when he finally decided to get up. He was careful not to wake the sleeping girl next to him. She felt different next to him compared to you. When the two of you slept together you always liked to be the big spoon. Chase let you, finding comfort being wrapped up in bed next to you. Maddie was different, she preferred to lay her head on his chest, letting the sound of his beating heart lull her into sleep.

 Not soon after Rudy came on the patio too, and Chase cursed him for being a night owl. “Not tired?” Rudy asked pulling out the bong they kept under the table. “No, and I didn’t want to wake Mads’” Chase spoke up tossing Rudy the lighter next to him watching the blonde inhale the smoke.

 “I can’t stop thinking about her.” Chase finally spoke up, keeping a hushed tone just in case. “Oh yeah?” “I shouldn't have left her like that. It wasn’t fair to her I just didn’t know what to do.” Chase explained and Rudy didn’t need to be a love doctor to know he was talking about you.

 “It’s been 2 weeks, she’s okay.” Rudy explained and Chase gave him a confused look. “When you guys broke up, I stayed in touch with her. She was mine friend too, and I felt bad that we all sort of dropped her when you guys broke up.” Chase nodded his head in understanding but was still jealous that Rudy got to talk to you. “Why did you break up with her? Not that I’m judging, I just thought things were going good between the two of you.”

 It was Chase’s turn to have a hit from the bong while he thought of his answer. “Shit man I don’t know. Things just feel different with Maddie then they did Y/N. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did.” “Are you sure you’re not feeling too much as an actor oppose to being a person. Sometimes having a love interest on show can be different and confusing.” The blonde tried explaining to him but even he saw the demise of the relationship before Chase start acting with Madelyn. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” Chase asked looking at Rudy and he could tell by the look in his eyes that it was doubtful. “You hurt her man. I think maybe one day, but not right now. I think right now she’s just trying to figure out how to do this without you.” Rudy could see the few tears in Chase’s eyes, and he knew that this wasn’t easy on him ether.

 Chase got up but before leaving he spoke one more time. “If you talk to her again, just tell her that I never meant to hurt her the way I did.” Chase still wasn’t sleepy but the effects of the marijuana did aid in his problem, so he finished off with a shower. He turned the water to steaming hot and then got in. He let the water soak his hair while he wondered what you were doing right now. It only took a few more minutes for the tears to start. Chase stayed another hour in the shower wondering if he made the right decision.

 'Cause this would be one whole lot easier God, I know that's selfish but it's true If underneath some calm exterior You're all fucked up too

 The first few months of quarantine had been rough on you working from home. You also felt alone all the time but seeing Chase’s Instagram post sent you spiraling down another unhealthy path. You had just started to get better. You weren’t drinking as much, and you had let your friends set you up on a group date. You knew you weren’t ready for another relationship just yet, but you also couldn’t hide in your apartment for the rest of your life.

 You had also been talking to Rudy a lot more. He had been your biggest support through all of this. He had flown back to LA a couple weeks ago to help you move to a new apartment. You figured if you were going to move on you had to move from the place you spent the most time with Chase. It was bittersweet because not only did you have good memories at the home with Chase, but those memories extended to your other friends as well. Rudy had ensured you that you would make knew memories in your new place.

 But when you woke up on June 14, 2020 you almost had a heart attack. It had been 3 months and 13 days to the day, and he had already moved on. Now you were stuck trying to grabble with the emotions you were feeling. In some messed up way at first you didn’t want him to be happy. You wanted him to hurt the way you did, but you knew it wasn’t right. There was a small part of you that was happy that he was now happy.

 Then you were reminded that you owed Chase his half of the damage deposit. Rudy had told you they all moved back to LA and were waiting for season one to come out. You debated on just giving the money to Rudy for him to pass along, but you also wanted to face Chase, to show him that you were now okay even it was a lie.

 You took the latter of the chooses and sent him a text. (Y/N) It’s Y/N, I have your half of the damage deposit from the apartment. I can drop it off or you can pick it up if you want. You stared at the text message for fifteen minutes before sending it. It only took five for him to answer and you dashed to look at the phone. (C) Oh shit I forgot about that. I mean if you want to keep it, that’s fine. You scowled at the text. You didn’t need or want his pity money. (Y/N) I’m fine without it, if your busy I can send it with Rudy the next time he’s here. (C) Okay, no that’s fine I can come by today and get it just air drop me your address. You did just that deciding against messaging him back.

 Chase’s heart fluttered a little when he saw your name come up on his phone. He hadn’t heard from you in months, and he assumed it was going to be about the post on his Instagram. He made the decision that Maddie made him the happy he wanted to be and left you. He had just gotten back in town when you told him about the deposit, and he didn’t mind letting you keep the money. It was the least he could do after everything he put your though. His heart sank when you declined his offer but lite back up when you offered for him to come over.

 Tell me, does your heart stop at the party when my name drops? Like you're stood at the platform when the trains cross Are you hurting, yeah you must be Or is it just me? Tongue-tied, screaming on the inside When I say that we broke up and they ask why Are you crying in the shower like a freak? With only cigarettes for company? Are you crying in the shower like a freak? Or is it just me?

 He honestly thought of this as his chance to apologize for everything that happened. You didn’t deserve for him to treat you like that, and he owed you an explanation. He drove over to your house, white knuckled the whole way. You lived in a small, gated apartment building and he remembered Rudy telling Maddie B. about it. He remembered Rudy saying how excited you were for a new place, and he wasn’t sure if Rudy was just saying that to upset him. Every time Rudy mentioned something about you it always made his heart sink underground and he was reminded about the way he treated you.

 Chase started to walk up the stairs to your apartment once you buzzed him in but to his surprise you were waiting outside on the step. You looked tired and had lost weight which worried him because you were small to begin with. “Hey.” He spoke not really knowing what else to say. “Hi.” You said and he could hear how sore your voice sounded almost like you had been crying. You were smoking, which was something new, but he figured this was just as stressful for you as it was him You handed him an envelope with his name on it. “Uh, I cleaned the whole apartment, and nothing was broken so we could all the money back. Your half is in there, so I just need your key to give to the landlord.” You explained looking at Chase. He pulled his keys from his pocket fumbling with the ring.

 “Y’know, I never meant”- “Please don’t” “Please don’t want?” Chase looked at you confused. He thought you wanted an apology. “I can’t listen to it Chase. I know it’s mean, but I’m not ready to hear you apologize. I’m just starting to get better, and I don’t need you to set me back again.” You explained looking him the eyes. He flinched when you said again. He handed the key back to you. “Thanks, I hope everything works out. I’ll make sure to watch the show.” You smiled at him and he didn’t realize how much he missed seeing you smile. He returned the smile before turning on his heels to leave. “For the record Y/N, you weren’t the only one to get hurt in this.” And it was your turn to flinch at his words. “I guess grief looks better on some people.” And with that you escaped back into your apartment sliding down the door letting out a silent cry. What you didn’t know was that Chase was going back to his car to the same thing.

TAGLIST:

@drewstarkeysbitchh @taylathornton @jjmaybankzz @lemur46

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Two

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker (platonic), background MCU characters

Warnings: [chapter] language; [series] language, smut, violence

Summary: The only people who knew she was actually a Stark were her dad, her step-mom Pepper, and her “uncles” Happy and Rhodey. A promotion within Stark Industries takes her from an already-sought after position in the Weapons Anaylsis Unit straight to the Avengers as a Weapons Enhancement Specialist... which means her dad is her new boss. There’s only one rule at work: no fraternizing with coworkers. There’s one more rule at home: no dating any Avengers. So what is she supposed to do when a grumpy super soldier becomes not-so-grumpy around her? At 25, do her dad’s rules still apply? Or is her entire livelihood at risk?

Author’s Note: This one was gonna be super short but I felt bad so it’s super long instead lol. I originally planned on posting shorter chapters more frequently so it might be closer to 3-4 days between parts now that I’m posting longer chapters. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I’ve never done a tag list before so I’m going to keep the limit pretty small. And if you want, you can buy me a coffee! ❣️

(Part One)

Tags: @kennedywxlsh

About an hour later, a light knock on the lab door drew your eyes from your work to Bucky as he walked in. Peter’s eyes darted up but immediately looked back down when he realized the visitor was for you.

“Hey Bucky,” you smiled. He smiled back and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“So… you wanted to see my arm?” he said, more as a question than a reminder.

“Yeah, if you could sit right here, that’d be perfect.”

He did as you asked and took a seat on a lab chair, letting you lean across the lab table toward him so you could fiddle with his prosthetic arm. You quickly grabbed your magnifying glasses, flipping the magnifiers up so you could examine him at face value first.

After a few minutes of looking at the outer plating and sensory receptors, you pulled away.

“Can you feel with this arm?” you asked.

“I can feel pressure but I can’t actually feel with it.” You gave him a confused look, only sort of piecing together what he meant. As he fumbled over his words to explain again, you put your glasses to the side, running around to Bucky’s side again to stand in front of him.

“Okay, this might be weird but it’ll really help me. Hold your hands out, palms up.” He did as you said. “I’m going to do the same thing to both arms and then I want you to show me, using just your right arm, how it felt on each one, okay?”

Bucky nodded and watched as your fingertips gently glided over his forearms, leaving goosebumps in your wake. The second time, you brushed your palms against his skin, as if you were brushing away crumbs. The final time, you scratched your nails down his right arm, making him take in a sharp breath as he watched the skin of his arm turn a pale pink. His left arm, however, kept catching your fingernails between the plates so you resorted to scratching across instead of down.

“Okay, now show me.” You flipped both of your arms over, palm up.

Using just his flesh arm on your right arm, he grazed his fingertips over your skin, admittedly sending a shiver down your spine. You didn’t even consider how weak that touch usually makes you, especially from someone who looks like that. And you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive before you even graduated college. You and your roommates were guilty of many nights of fuck-marry-fight with the Avengers as your victims.

When your gaze moved up to meet his, he brushed his hand over your arm, then delicately scratched his nails down your arm.

If it hadn’t been for the slight hum of machinery across the room, you’re sure Bucky would’ve heard your heart beating out of your chest.

Dad would literally kill me if he knew the thoughts going through my head right now, you thought.

“Okay,” you started, pausing briefly to clear your throat. “What about what your left arm feels?”

This one made him furrow his brows, either in concentration or confusion. He pushed his fingertips against your skin harder than before and moved them down your arm. He used more pressure again with the second movement, then went back to heavy fingertip pressure for the scratches.

“Hm,” you said simply, letting your arms drop to your sides again. “So you feel the weight of the touch but not the sensation that comes with it?” The confusion in his eyes made you rephrase. “So this on your right arm —“ you ran your fingers down his flesh arm again, “gives you goosebumps, but this on your metal arm —“ you repeated on the left, “is just a weight, no shiverbugs?”

“Shiverbugs?” he repeated with a barely noticeable smile.

“Goosebumps! Sorry. Shiverbugs is something my grandma used to say. Sometimes I slip into the family slang,” you chuckled. Bucky’s smile grew a bit at the sound of your laugh.

“Yeah, I only feel that on the right arm. No shiverbugs with the left.”

You jokingly scrunched your nose at him before returning to your previous seat. He stood there as you scribbled down notes on how he feels things and your immediate thoughts on how to make it more real for him.

“Is there anything you want done to your arm?”

Bucky seemed slightly taken aback at the question, but quickly steeled his expression. “I know Tony wanted to make it quieter,” he said.

You pushed your glasses up your nose and leaned your elbows on the table between you. You could tell he was still pretty reserved, either because you were new and he didn’t feel comfortable around you, or because he didn’t feel comfortable in the tower as a whole yet.

“I know what Tony wants,” you said gently. “What do you want?”

He frowned at this, turning his eyes to the floor as he thought. After a beat, he finally said, “I just want it to feel real again.”

And you could’ve cried right then and there. You knew the story of the Winter Soldier. You had heard what Bucky had been through. You couldn’t imagine going through anything close to what he experienced, and you’d be damned if you let him down.

But you couldn’t cry in front of him on your first day, so you smiled at him softly.

“That’s not an easy feat but I’ll do what I can, Barnes.”

He smiled briefly before frowning again. That frown seemed to be his default expression.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked.

“Not right now. Thanks for helping me out,” you replied. He just nodded before walking out. Your eyes stayed on the door for an extra couple seconds before you spun around on your seat and scurried across the room to plop down next to Peter, who was packing his stuff to head home for the day.

“Hey, Boy Wonder, question.” Peter looked at you with raised eyebrows. Nicknaming ran in the family. “Want to use that biomolecular engineering and help me with something?”

•••

Nearly every day when you stopped in the kitchen for lunch, you’d run into Bucky. Sometimes he’d be with Sam, sometimes Steve, sometimes on his own. But almost every single day, he’d be in the common room chatting or the kitchen eating. For the first couple weeks, he was a little tense when you were around. You’d hear him and Sam bickering as you approached, just to see him quiet down once you entered the room. It was a bit disheartening at first, but when it was just the two of you, he always engaged.

You’d called him into the lab a couple times to look over his arm again, but you always felt bad taking him away from whatever training or cases he was working on. The digital renderings were always there, and you spent plenty of time digging into those and running simulations of the different ways you could muffle the wiring. And it’s a good thing you ran the simulations, because a couple of them would’ve fried his whole arm and then some.

Peter was a great help too. When he wasn’t working on his own projects, he’d poke his nose into your work and throw out recommendations. Robotics may have been your specialty, but the kid knew his stuff. He’s the only reason you finally figured out the perfect combo to quiet Bucky’s arm without knocking him out.

Nearly four weeks after your first day — and a week after Peter went back to campus, leaving you alone in the lab — you cornered Bucky in the communal kitchen again and turned on your classic Stark charm.

“Hey Bucky,” you said sweetly, leaning over the counter across from him while he tossed fruit into a blender.

“Hey [Y/N].”

You’d grown a bit more comfortable with each other, mainly from when you two were left alone. He still was a bit quieter with one of his friends around, but he was growing more talkative in general. You felt comfortable tossing nicknames at him; he felt comfortable saying “hey” instead of “hi” and once gave you your own nickname. Since you called him Bucky Bear a time or two, he called you Build A Bear. He almost looked panicked when it slipped, but your initial shock was quickly followed by giggles, easing the tension in his shoulders. But the feeling that name sent to your stomach felt more like bats than butterflies. He even joked with you now.

“So I’ve been looking at the blueprints we have for your arm and I was wondering — I know this is a lot to ask — could I maybe spend some more time digging around in your arm?” You flashed him a hopeful smile, even propping your chin on your hand to look cuter.

Before he answered, he put the lid on the blender and started it, staring at you blankly as the sound filled the entire room. You just sat there, continuing to smile at him. And the more you fluttered your lashes while he let the blender run, the more you could see his frown-y facade start to crack.

He finally broke into a smile when he shut the machine off.

“You don’t have to ask, [Y/N]. I mainly train in the mornings so my afternoons are free. As long as I’m here, you can call me in whenever.”

You jumped up and ran around the counter, giving him an unexpected hug, made obvious by the way he tensed up. You elected to ignore it.

“You’re the best, Bucky Bear.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he said, gently pulling away from you to pour his smoothie into two glasses. “I just have one stipulation.” You looked up at him expectantly. “Take the rest of this? I, uh, I made a bit too much.”

With a laugh, you grabbed the nearly full glass and led him down the halls to your lab. Since Peter was only coming back one weekend a month, you had kind of taken over the lab, adding some color to make your workspace a little less drab. Your guilty pleasures playlist — aka your favorite middle school dance songs — played quietly over the speakers as you directed Bucky to sit down.

Getting into his arm wasn’t the easiest task. You had to pry off the opening of each individual outer plate, then unscrew — yes, with a screwdriver — the covering on the inner plates to actually see the wiring inside. Fortunately, Bucky brought his phone with him so he could occupy himself and let you focus. You were a bit surprised at how easily he understood modern technology, but he wasn’t quite the old man Steve was when it came to the changing times.

After spending a solid 10 minutes leaning over the lab table to open Bucky’s arm, you poked around inside for a while, jotting down notes as you went. Shuri had sent Tony quite a few notes for you to reference, but seeing everything firsthand and taking your own notes always helped.

Unfortunately, Bucky had two removable sections in his arm: one on his forearm, one in his bicep.

“Scale of one to ten, how comfy does the table look?” you asked.

Bucky looked up from his phone and gave you a confused look. “Uh, maybe a two? Why?”

“Well, Buckaroo, I need to get to the top plate too so you’ll have to either hold your arm up for me to get to it or lie down somewhere.”

He glanced back down at the table, then looked at you in confusion as he voiced his own suggestion. “What about the couch in the common room?”

You tapped your nose and pointed at him with a smile, gathering your supplies and the rest of Bucky’s arm. He led the way, lying flat on the couch and raising his left arm over his head.

“Is it okay if I play more music out here?” you asked as you unloaded everything.

“Sure. I should probably catch up on modern music anyway,” he said with a soft smile. You had Friday play your guilty pleasures playlist again while you got to work on opening up the top of Bucky’s arm.

You’d been poking around for almost 20 minutes when the silence was broken.

“Music nowadays is so sexual,” Bucky said suddenly.

“Hm. What makes you say that?” you asked, only half paying attention as you drew up more stream-of-consciousness notes on the coffee table beside you.

“This song.” You paused and immediately recognized the beat for “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent.

“Oh come on, as if you didn’t have any inappropriate songs in the ‘40s,” you scoffed.

“Of course we did but it was never this blatant! We were more subtle back then,” Bucky defended.

“Bro,” you deadpan. “If you think ‘Candy Shop’ is obvious, you have way more catching up to do. Friday, play ‘WAP’ by Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion.”

You watched Bucky react as the song started. Even the initial “there’s some whores in this house” made his eyes go wide. At “wet ass pussy make that pull out game weak,” he turned to you, beet red in the face.

“What kind of music do you listen to?!”

“This is a popular song!” you laughed. “We have some obviously sexual songs that aren’t quite as… vulgar too. Friday, play ‘T-Shirt’ by Thomas Rhett.”

Bucky eyed you cautiously this time, not quite sure if you were actually playing a more censored song. He visibly relaxed when he heard the first lyrics, “Get off of work and we meet down at our spot. We got a patio with a view of a parking lot.”

“See, this is already so much better.”

“Don’t act so innocent,” you smirked, rolling your eyes at him.

“That sounds like an accusation,” Bucky laughed.

“Oh, it is.”

“Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?” He sat up to face you directly, one leg landing on each side of your body sitting on the floor. His posture combined with his playful conversation had you wondering where this confidence came from. Because you definitely liked it.

“Come on,” you scoffed. “You can’t convince me a face like that,” you pointed directly at him to emphasize your point, “wasn’t making panties drop left and right back in the day.”

He shook his head and laughed to himself, leaning back on the couch, yet made no move to deny your accusation.

“Who would’ve known my sweet little Bucky Bear was a player?” you joked.

“Oh, like you’re not the same way, Build A Bear.”

“Excuse me?!” you squealed. “I’ll have you know I’m a good little Christian girl and I’m saving myself for marriage,” you said with a grin, maneuvering from sitting on your butt to kneeling and clasping your hands together like you were praying.

“You’re a lot of things, [Y/N]. A good liar is not one of those things,” Bucky smirked.

Your mouth fell agape. You liked this confident, playful side of him. You’d only seen glimpses until now.

“What’s your number?” you asked, dropping your hands to your sides.

“Uhh… My phone number?”

“No, your sexual body count,” you laughed, making sure to clarify; former assassins probably have a different interpretation of ‘body count.’ “How many people have you slept with?”

You knew it was a personal question but given the topic of conversation and casual tone you’d both taken on, it didn’t seem totally out of bounds.

Bucky thought for a second, slowly counting on his fingers. Your eyes watched as the slender metal digits flicked up: one, two, three... “Four.”

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed.

“Why is that so hard to believe?” Bucky said with a laugh.

“Because that’s my body count.”

“Doll, I took plenty of dames out on the town, but I’d leave the night with a kiss and nothing else,” he said, that old school Brooklyn lilt sneaking up on him.

You sighed and shook your head, still not believing him but choosing to let it go for now.

“Give me your arm,” you said, holding your hand out. Bucky let his arm drop into your hand while you picked up a microchip with a needle-thin pair of tweezers. “This will adhere to the vibranium and essentially act like a pillow to muffle the sounds of your arm. So it’ll still make noise — I can’t just get rid of all sound — but it’ll be notably quieter.”

You tucked the chip under the inner plating of Bucky’s arm, watching as it sparked over the metal to let you both know it was working.

“Now lie back down so I can put you back together, Humpty Dumpty,” you said.

Bucky let out a quiet chuckle, but leaned back on the couch with his left arm over his head. After 15 minutes of angling the plating just right so it would fit back together, you climbed off the couch, distancing yourself from Bucky for the first time in nearly four hours.

“Anything else I can help the mad scientist with today?” Bucky asked. He had moved to rest his elbows on his knees, looking up at you from his spot on the sofa.

You checked your watch to see how much time you had left in your workday. 4:15. Forty-five minutes until you can clock out for the weekend. Not quite close enough to bullshit through some dumb side project so you don’t get too invested. But there’s one thing you wanted to check out to improve the feeling in Bucky’s arm.

“Can you take your shirt off?” you asked plainly.

Bucky’s eyes went wide for half a second before he slipped back into his playful demeanor. “Shouldn’t you take me on a date first?”

“Shut up,” you giggled. You giggled. “I just want to see how the arm is connected to your torso.”

Without pause, Bucky leaned forward, grabbed the back of his shirt, and tugged it over his head to let it fall to the floor. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t consider what he’d look like underneath his clothing, so it took you a second to gather your bearings again. You couldn’t help yourself. How could you not admire the slender lines of his collarbones, the thick layer of muscle covering his chest, the distinct ridges on his abdomen speckled with scars, the very tip of what you could only assume were two tantalizing depressions leading right to —

“Like what you see, doll?” he smirked.

Your eyes met his, reluctantly pulling away from what you knew would be the source of your dreams tonight.

“Four, my ass,” you mumbled in fake annoyance, kneeling between his thighs again to get a better look at him. Your fingertips trailed along the smooth line of scarred skin bordering the harsh metal of his arm. It took all your willpower to focus on work instead of the heat his body was radiating being so close to each other. “Was this how, you know, they put your arm on?”

Bucky shook his head, his expression growing sullen at the indirect mention of his tormentors. “They just kind of dug away at it. The Wakandans actually cut away a bit more of my skin to allow for healthier healing.”

You could tell it was carefully done, judging by the faint discoloring and thin ridge alongside the metal, as opposed to angry red lines that protruded out like the photos Shuri sent.

“Does this area hurt?” You pressed your hand flat to the scar; Bucky had to try to reign in his heartbeat. You had leaned in close to see his arm, leaving you close enough for him to just dip his head down and —

“What’s going on here?”

Both of you whipped your heads to the side to see a very confused — and slightly annoyed — Tony standing in the entrance to the common room, clearly just passing by and stumbling on a somewhat compromising situation: his daughter on her knees between a shirtless Winter Soldier’s thighs.

Without taking your eyes off your father, you reached around on the coffee table and grabbed your notebook.

“Research! I promise!”

“Research that couldn’t happen in your designated lab?” You could tell there was so much more he wanted to say, but had to keep it to himself for now to avoid telling Bucky who you really were.

“I had to open the compartment in his tricep area and didn’t want to make him lie down on the lab tables for three hours.” The accusatory glare from your dad made you shrink into yourself, your voice growing quieter as you spoke. Fridays were family dinner night, and you already knew you wouldn’t hear the end of this.

“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, still eyeing you and Bucky suspiciously. “And why did he need to be half naked for that?”

“Da — Tony,” you said, barely catching yourself. “I mean, Mr. Stark. I was examining the scar tissue and spinal connection to determine how to enhance the sensory receptors currently embedded in the vibranium.”

Tony’s eyes flitted between you and Bucky. Your eyes were wide, clearly nervous as he grilled you. Bucky, on the other hand, was flushed pink and leaning a little too close for Tony’s comfort.

“Keep this PG from now on, okay? And no working outside of the lab. This is Stark Tower, not Bezos Tower. We’re not gonna work you to the bone.” He started to walk away before stepping back and adding, “No fraternizing with coworkers, remember?”

With a quick nod, you stood abruptly and gathered your things to take it back to your lab for the night. Bucky was quick to slip his shirt back on and followed you with his head down to avoid the burning gaze of your father — or as far as he knew, his boss.

You didn’t expect Bucky to go back to your lab with you, but part of you was glad he did. Being around him brought you a sense of calm and comfort, even after what just happened. If he had just walked away, you’d assume the worst: that an accusation like that was far from what he wanted to hear.

You set all your things back on your table to start putting them away when Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat.

“Sorry about that,” he said. You spared a quick glance at him, seeing the tension in his shoulders as he chose his words carefully.

“Why?” you asked, genuinely confused on how that situation was somehow his fault.

“Tony… he doesn’t really like me much.”

“Yeah, I know,” you laughed. “But that was way more of a me-problem than a you-problem. We’ll just have to work in here from now on.” You shrugged and went back to putting your tools in their respective drawers.

Bucky still stood right inside the doorway, the door shut behind him so no one outside could hear you two. He rocked back and forth on his feet, trying to force himself to follow through with at least mentioning what he planned on asking you.

“I was actually gonna see if you wanted to get dinner together sometime until Tony gave us that speech,” he chuckled.

You slid the final drawer shut and turned to Bucky. You knew you two were getting closer and you couldn’t deny feeling an attraction to him, but you never expected him to feel that same pull. The thought made you smile back at him while he cracked his knuckles, most likely from nerves. What happened to that fun and flirty attitude he had just a few minutes ago?

Your grandma always said to never date a man who wasn’t nervous about asking you out...

“I’m pretty good at keeping secrets,” you said quietly.

His eyes stopped darting around the room to find your gaze. You stepped closer, taking slow steps as you crossed the room to him until you were toe to toe. He didn’t take his eyes off of you until you held your phone out to him.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” you said with a small smirk.

His lips curled into a small smile as he snatched your phone and entered his number.

“I’ll text you my address. Does tomorrow night work?” you asked, unintentionally biting your lip but not missing the way Bucky’s eyes followed the movement.

“Tomorrow sounds great,” he replied.

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Buck.” You took a bit of a risk and stood on your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek, his face immediately flushing red. Your own cheeks grew warm when you stepped back, tossing Bucky a quick wave as you turned back around and hoping he’d leave before you started screaming.

[justimajin]

Til Death Do Us Part ♜ Pt.10 [M]

➟ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

➟ Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

↳ (4.2k), Arranged Marriage AU

➟ Summary: If someone told you that you’d be marrying the Kim Namjoon, you would think you were being lied to, or worse, that you were hallucinating. However, fate seems to have it’s own ways of making the impossible possible and before you even know it, the title of Mrs. Kim is bestowed onto you. There’s just one problem: you’re not sure if Kim Namjoon is the person he says he is and the truth of your own identity is dangling by the strength of a mere thread.

➟ Warnings: 18+ rating: unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, body insecurity (result of physical markings), slight body worship, hints of sexual tension

gif credit.

➟ Previous Parts: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

➟ Last Update: Friday, February 19

The moment your eyes catch onto a patch of black hair within the crowd, you freeze in place. 

Jung Hoseok appears just as you remember him. Lips tugged up into a playful smile, mischief dancing in his eyes and adorned in a black suit that easily conceals away any weaponry he stows away. Despite his traits, the sleek material fails to hide the circles lining his twinkling eyes, his posture sunken and suit appearing oversized as if he had lost some weight with time. 

You decipher his appearance within seconds, and when your observant eyes snap over to Namjoon, you already know he’s done the same. 

The two of you stay stationed in the corner, afar from the crowd. Jimin stands off to the corner opposite you as Seokjin darts his eyes around, taking careful steps towards the shareholder before he decides to engage with him. 

There’s a whimsical expression on Seokjin’s features that mimics Hoseok, hands curved around a glass of champagne that he raises. 

“Jung Hoseok.” He counters, “I haven’t seen you around in quite some time.” 

Hoseok turns, a crease in between the brows from the sudden call of his name, but once his eyes come into contact with Seokjin’s, his regular demeanor shifts back. 

“Since you know my name along with my record, why don’t you tell me where you know me from?” 

Seokjin smiles, “You’re one of Kim Namjoon’s shareholders, right?” 

There’s a glint in Hoseok’s eyes and his grin immediately falls, something that has Seokjin’s eyes narrowing, before it abruptly returns. 

“I am.” 

Seokjin hums, “It was just a question, no need to get so surprised.” He leans forward, eyes hardening as his voice drops into a whisper, “Unless, there is some reason for you to be….” 

Hoseok grits his teeth, looking away for a moment. His disdain is heavy and he glares at Seokjin, who slyly smiles back. 

“What do you know?” 

A light chuckle leaves Seokjin, “I think the question you should be asking is, what do I not know?” 

He reaches into the inner pocket of his suit, revealing a creased piece of paper that he hands to Hoseok. The latter tilts his head, unfolding the sheet that reveals a photograph.

Hoseok’s eyes widen, “If you need to recall the memory, his name is Kim Minhyuk.” Seokjin sips his champagne as he whispers, eyeing the shareholder, “Strange for someone of your status to be interacting with someone that has been known to get his hands dirty for the right price, don’t you think?” 

The paper is instantly crumbled within his hands, and Hoseok snarls at him, “How much?” 

Seokjin glances at him intrigued, “What? Money?” He snorts, “Oh, it’s going to take much more to silence me.” 

Hoseok fists up his jacket, “Listen here‒” 

“I wouldn’t ruin the suit, it was fairly costly for what it was worth.” Seokjin gestures to his hold and Hoseok let's go in annoyance. 

“Who are you working for?” 

A smirk spreads across Seokjin’s features. 

“Turn around.” 

The sound of a deep voice from behind Hoseok startles him, and as he does as he’s told, all the colour instantly drains from his features. 

Namjoon tilts his head to the side, piercing eyes scrutinizing the shareholder. 

Immediately, an excuse tumbles out. “N-Namjoon! I-I didn’t think you would be here….” 

“Of course you didn’t,” He smirks, “I’m alive after all.” 

If Hoseok was scared before, he was downright terrified now. 

Namjoon steps forward, and Hoseok bolts. 

Seokjin whips his head around and Jimin immediately leaves his corner, running after him. Hoseok pushes past protesting guests without any qualms, sprinting into one of the hallways as Jimin pursues him. 

“This way!” Jimin hastily shouts. His brows suddenly contort with surprise, but then he curses underneath his breath as Hoseok slips from his sight, completely disappearing. 

Namjoon hurriedly rushes forward a bit late, peering in both directions. 

“Where is he?” Seokjin wonders and Jimin rubs his temples, squinting in the direction. 

“There was a woman.” He abruptly whispers, glancing at the two, “I saw them together before her and Hoseok split apart into different paths.”

“A woman?” Seokjin wonders. 

“I know.” Jimin muses, “She looked young, but I wasn’t too sure.” 

“So he wasn’t choosing to run away, but instead ran to someone…” Seokjin slowly utters, shaking his head, “Whatever it is, we have to find him.” 

“Don’t worry.” Namjoon states, a twinkle in his dark eyes, “He won’t get too far.”

***

Hoseok runs as fast as he can, sweat beginning to trickle down his features. He peers behind himself, acclaiming himself of at least getting away in time. 

Abruptly, he’s sent flying towards the ground. His hands barely break his fall, harshly slamming right against it. 

The sound of a trigger cocking alerts him, and right as he glances up, the sight of a gun pointed towards his head. 

You stare down at him with a triumphant expression. 

Hoseok grits his teeth, a sound of dismay leaving him. You reach down, grabbing onto his hands before securing them behind his back. 

You soon catch sight of Seokjin from afar and you usher towards him as Namjoon and Jimin follow behind. 

As Seokjin helps you lift him from the ground, his eyes are frantically darting around, as if searching for something. 

“What wrong?” Seokjin wonders, “Lose something?” 

Hoseok sneers, “Like I’ll tell you anything.” 

Seokjin smiles, tightening his hold, “We’ll see how long you can keep that up.” 

Night falls as Namjoon paces back and forth in the hallway, fiddling around with the hem of his sleeve. The door to his right abruptly widens, a tired Seokjin emerging out. 

He instantly steps forward and Seokjin sighs, “He kept true to his word.” 

Namjoon raises his eyebrows, “He’s not talking?” 

Seokjin hums, “A lot more stubborn than I gave him credit for.” He gestures towards the door, “Jimin’s still there with hopes of getting something out, but he’s holding onto everything as if his life is on the line.” 

“That’s odd,” He whispers, “If being threatened to force out information isn’t horrible enough, I wonder what is…” 

“I agree, it seemed like he had a lot to tell me before, but now…” Seokjin shakes his head, “Maybe he thinks we’ll hesitate in killing him.” 

There’s a sharp glint in Namjoon’s eyes, “Have you told him otherwise?” 

Seokjin snorts, “No, but he isn’t wrong.” He adds, “We do need him to tell us about his connections.” 

Namjoon hums and the door cranks open again as Jimin emerges out. Both him and Seokjin turn at the same time, glancing at the man’s distressed appearance. 

“Nothing so far,” He huffs for a moment, before staring at the two of them peculiarly, “But he said one thing that’s been bothering me a lot.” 

“What?” Seokjin wonders. 

Jimin stands up straighter, bafflement crossing him. 

“He said we’re fools for thinking that he’s the one pulling the strings.”

Seokjin scrunches up his nose and Namjoon cocks his head to the side, clearly as perplexed as Jimin from the saying. 

“That’s it?” Namjoon asks. 

Jimin sighs, “That’s it.” 

“Well, this just got a lot more damn complicated.” Seokjin shakes his head, before gesturing to Jimin, “Take a break, I’ll have to spend a couple more hours with him to get something else out.” 

Jimin nods, fatigued from the demanding interactions. 

Once Jimin leaves, Namjoon’s voice drops into a whisper, “We’re fools for thinking he’s the one pulling the strings….” 

Seokjin narrows his eyes and lets out a sigh, mind still swimming with the response. “As if suggesting that he’s innocent….” 

“Maybe it's the woman.” Namjoon’s eyes snap up as Seokjin reminds him, “Hoseok’s first instinct was to run to her.” 

He nods, “Though I don’t think we can trust him on this, he could be trying to cover himself up. Or someone else, for that matter.” 

Namjoon hums, fingers pressed against his lips as he dwells deeper into thought. Seokjin leans over, patting his back and his eyes peer up at him.  

“Why don’t you go get some rest? This whole fiasco won’t be figured out until he talks and that...might take a while.” 

He gestures to the gun sticking out from his jacket and Namjoon lets out a frustrated sigh from the notion. 

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” He wonders. 

Seokjin softly shakes his head, “He’ll talk with the right persuasion, trust me. And besides….” 

There’s a small smirk lingering on Seokjin’s lips, playfulness practically twinkling in his eyes. He points upward, gesturing to the upper floor. 

“Y/N actually left a couple of minutes ago.” 

At the mere mention of your name, there’s a flush that scatters over Namjoon, skin nearly akin to being feverish. Seokjin’s smile widens, restraining a small laugh that seeks to slip out of his mouth. 

“I-Is that so?” Namjoon mumbles, his eyes darting everywhere. When they connect with Seokjin’s, he sheepishly laughs, “I, uh‒ suppose you’re right.” 

Seokjin hums, but he can’t conceal the amused smile that crosses him. 

Bidding his friend good luck, Namjoon gyrates around, promptly heading to his room as fast as he can. 

***

Namjoon’s eyes are glued to the sight of the door. 

He’s reached his room, pupils having traced the outlines and shape of the wood, handle practically right in front of him ‒ but he remains planted in place, as if someone had poured lead into his shoes. 

His hand reaches up, rubbing against his temples as a sigh leaves him.

The last time you were in a room together he could barely control himself. And this time, standing right in front of your shared room’s door, he knows that control is on the edge of completely shattering. 

Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he peers at the door again and takes a deep breath. 

His hand reaches out for the handle. 

He quietly walks in, hastily ensuring the door is fully closed before saying anything. Turning around, there’s a soft smile on his lips, warmth brimming in his eyes. 

“Y/N, I‒” 

His breath instantly hitches, form completely freezing. 

Your startled eyes snap up in an instant. There’s drops of water falling from the strands of your hair onto the damp carpet, one of your hands resting against the wall next to a small door to your left. Your other hand is tightly fisting the material of the long towel that covers your form, struggling to keep it in place. 

At the sight of Namjoon gawking, you fumble with your words, “N-Namjoon….I-I didn’t think you would be back s-so soon…” 

A light chuckle leaves you, a fevernet shade of scarlet taking over your features. He continues to stare at you, and you break into a fit of rambles to explain the situation. 

“I-I’ve been having a hard time bathing!” You laugh again, “So I tried to quickly wash up before bed, but it’s been difficult….moving around and whatnot…” 

Your eyes are fixated on the ground, barely able to meet his own through your explanation. It feels like an eternity until Namjoon finally clears his throat, the sound of his footsteps growing louder. 

He’s a mere inches away from you, outstretching his arm, “Let me help you.” 

Nothing seems to leave your lips at the suggestion. You hastily nod, still unable to make eye contact as you reach out and grasp onto his sleeve. However the moment you do so, you unfortunately can’t stop to take notice of the way one of his hands slips behind you to steady your back. 

A sudden rush of heat is brought upon on you and you internally curse yourself for being so flustered in his presence. On the other hand, Namjoon tenses when you lean against him, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. 

He gently guides you towards the bathroom again, carefully waiting as you struggle with the occasional steps and fumble around with the towel clinging to your body. Not paying enough attention to your surroundings results in you taking one step too close, nearly toppling down until a weight stops you. 

Your eyes glance up in surprise at Namjoon, who managed to shift himself before you were sent smacking against the ground. You wouldn’t normally hesitate to thank him for the gesture, but his eyes immediately connect with yours and the words can’t seem to form anymore. 

The warmth in his eyes disappears within seconds and is replaced with the carnal gaze you’ve become far too familiar with. You’re only a handful of inches away from him, his breath intermingling with yours the longer you stare at each other. 

Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to close the gap between you this time, arms looping around your waist in an instant. 

A burst of electricity tingles through your skin, his soft lips molding ravenously against your own. You push back with just as much desire, fiercely kissing him as your hands fist the material of his jacket. 

It’s not long before that jacket is being pushed off his shoulders completely and your back hits against the wall, a gasp escaping from your lips until his mouth crashes against yours, tongue slipping in within seconds. 

A deep moan leaves Namjoon when you loop your arms around his neck, fingers weaving into the soft strands before tugging against them. You’re abruptly being lifted up from the waist, lips still connected to his until you’re suddenly falling down, hands finding purchase within the soft material of your bed. 

Namjoon remains underneath you when you lean down to kiss him again, strands of your damp hair ticking his features and soaking through the fabric of his shirt. Your hands eagerly fumble around with his tie, growing exasperated within minutes when it refuses to come undone despite all your tugging. You can feel Namjoon smiling into your kiss, knowing that he’s holding back a laugh from your efforts. 

A desperate whine leaves you and that’s when he makes the decision to halt his teasing, spinning you around so that he hovers above you. He roughly tugs at the material and the sound of a harsh snap leaves your eyes widening, before he leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. 

He aids you in hastily undoing his buttons, letting a chuckle slip out when an exhale of relief leaves you from the last one. The material easily slips off his shoulders and although you’re eager to finally have flesh, you have to try your hardest to control your gawking eyes. 

To your complete surprise, your hands come into contact with muscle when you run your hands against him, noticing the bulkiness of his arms and chest. As if he knows he’s rendered you speechless, Namjoon coaxes your surprise by briefly connecting your lips, before descending to the juncture of your neck. 

A mewl nearly leaves you at the hot open mouthed kisses he leaves behind, serving to stroke the heat that pools between your legs. When his thumbs begin to move against the rough material of your towel, his carnal eyes snap up to meet yours, silently asking for your wishes to continue. 

Although you nervously bite down on your lip, you ultimately decide to answer him with a nod. With one flick of his wrist, the cloth is tossed onto the ground, leaving you completely bare beneath him. 

At the sight of confusion spurring in Namjoon’s eyes, you sheepishly look away. You’re not completely sure of what he was expecting, but from the way his brows are drawn together and there’s a pang of hurt in his eyes, you can tell he’s at a loss for words. 

Even though you know you’ve been through a lot, your body takes it sweet time to heal. There’s still a wound healing from the time you were shot from Taehyung and obscene injuries littering the entirety of your legs from the time you were kidnapped. It’s coupled with a handful of clumsily sewn together old bullet wounds, long having engraved themselves into your skin from the past. 

Namjoon takes it in for a moment, but when you fidget underneath his gaze, he leans closer to you. 

“No, don’t.” He stops your hand from sliding over, attempting to cover up a piece of reality you had become uncomfortably close to, “Please, don’t, I‒” 

He softly smiles, leaning down to whisper to you, “You’re beautiful. You’re so, so beautiful.” 

A smile cracks onto your lips and although you’re aware that he’s called you beautiful before, there’s something about the way he says it now that has your vision fogging. He presses his forehead against yours with a smile as you lightly laugh, pecking your lips hastily. Your body suddenly jolts in retaliation, eyes flickering over at him in astonishment. 

He kisses against your legs, right where your prominent ones have recently surfaced, before he shifts to press his lips against all the other ones. It makes you squirmish within his hold, his touch bringing shivers down your spine. 

Abruptly a sear of pleasure thrums through your body, vision going hazy. Namjoon’s hands roam around the swell of your breasts, before his fingers fondle the skin again and pinch against the eroding buds. You wither from his ministrations, sucking in a sharp inhale when he envelopes one of them within the heat of his mouth. 

Bliss fills your veins, the gratifying sensation coiling need within the pit of your stomach and dampening your aching core. You shift against him, desperately needing some relief from the agonizing heat that only seems to grow. 

“N-Namjoon...” 

As if he already knows, his lips halt their ministrations before drawing all his attention to your seeping centre. His fingers are quick to swirl against the muscle, and when he notices you immediately shudder, he doesn’t hesitate to latch his mouth onto your clit. 

“Oh my god‒” Your hands fervently grasp onto the bed sheets, eyes squeezing shut as he continues to circle his tongue against your sex. Moans are slipping out from your lips, your chest heaving as a sheen of sweat begins to cover you. 

A sharp cry escapes you when he slips a finger into your heat, joining in with the rhythms of his mouth. Your thighs quiver against him as he adds another, abruptly curling up his digits in a way that completely blurs your vision and has his name tumbling from your lips. 

The friction builds up until it’s too much, barely having the chance to tell him that you’re close to the brink of losing it all. The chord within you snaps before a wave of euphoria is washing over you, core pulsating and clenching around Namjoon’s fingers. Exhales are leaving you as your eyes focus back, your chest rising and falling. 

You grimace as he slips his hand out, raising his head to softly brush his lips against yours. A content sigh leaves you, the taste of your residue lingering on his mouth. 

Namjoon shifts for a moment, and from the corner of your eye you see him beginning to unbutton his trousers. He kicks the flimsy material away and settles himself between your thighs, his throbbing length pressing against your skin. 

He rests his elbows on either side of you, his gaze intent as he pants, “Do you....do you want this?” 

“Yes,” You breathe out, and Namjoon nods, before reaching down to align himself with your centre. His head probes at your opening for a moment, until he begins to push inside. 

You immediately grip onto his shoulders, nails digging right in. Namjoon peers up at you in hesitation, but you shake your head and encourage him to continue. 

He goes as slow as possible, the stretch eliciting beads of pain to shoot through you. When he bottoms out, you’re surprised you haven’t been split at the seams. He lets out a groan, eyes screwing shut as he rests his head against your neck. 

Small huffs are leaving you as the pain contorts into something else, a scorching heat that only intensifies as your core clenches. 

Your hands tighten around his shoulders, “Namjoon, move.” 

He glances up in surprise, but doesn’t take long to fulfill your request. A sharp thrust has you gasping, grasping onto him as it contorts into a wanton moan. Your reaction urges him on more as he thrusts into you again, earning a breathy call of his name to slip from your lips. 

Namjoon quickens his pace, before he’s slamming into you with as much vigor as he can. Your back is arching, attempting to meet the strong jerk is his hips half-way. His thrusts are a mixture of deep and aggressive, feverishly quenching the insatiable hunger that consumes you. 

Your name falls from his lips when you begin to clench against him, and he instantly reaches towards where your bodies are connected, circling against the sensitive bud that draws tears to your eyes. 

“Namjoon.” You choke out, pleasure threatening to eat you alive. Your pleas of his name are muffled by his lips, his thrusts and ministrations growing his strength. In the midst of this, he whispers against your mouth, your hazy eyes instantly connecting. 

If it weren’t for the proximity, you would have easily missed it.  

I love you. 

“I-I love you, too.” You pant, his brows contorting as he lets out a groan. 

Your release rips through you, legs wrapping against him and battered core clenching against Namjoon’s hasty thrusts. Your vision blurs out, electricity humming through your form until it fizzles out. 

Namjoon roughly thrusts against you one last time before he’s coming, his seed coating your damp walls and dripping out of your opening. He collapses against your gasping form, his breaths intermingling with yours through the silence. 

You reach out, softly running a hand against his soaked back before tangling your fingers within his dampened locks. He tilts his head to the side, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek and then leaning back. 

He carefully slips out of you, a mixture of your combined releases leaking out of your core. He rises from the bed as you lay there, returning with a moist cloth that he gently taps against your swollen core. 

The blanket is tugged up as Namjoon settles in, warmth already surrounding you from his embrace alone. A lazy smile curves on his lips, his features mirroring your content expression as you welcome sleep with open arms. 

Namjoon is awoken with a gentle shake to his shoulder. 

His eyes briefly flutter, refusing to open as a sound of protest leaves him. His shoulder is shaken again, but this time it’s rougher. 

“Namjoon…” Your voice whispers from behind him, “Namjoon, please wake up.” 

There’s a sense of urgency in your words and it’s the single thing that causes Namjoon to roll over, his eyes squinting through the lack of lighting. You hover above him, hair still tousled and the blanket covering you slipping from your shoulders, but your eyes frantically search his features. 

“Y/N…” He croaks, voice husky from sleep, “What is it...?” 

You bite down nervously on your lip and Namjoon’s confusion only deepens. 

“I-I….I think I saw someone.” You profess, “Outside.” 

At that, Namjoon’s eyes flash open. He bolts upright, leaning towards you and directing his gaze towards the window. 

“Through there?” He points and you immediately nod, watching him scramble out of the sheets and pacing over to the glass. 

You closely follow behind, peering over his shoulder, “It was almost like a shadow...I thought I was hearing things at first but then I just saw‒”

As if on cue, his eyes catch onto it. Like a faint blur in the darkness of the night sky, his pupils narrow onto the faint movement. 

He spins around, orbs coming into contact with yours. “We need to know who that is.” 

You nod, swiveling around and then walking towards the bedroom cupboards for some clothes. By the time you manage to find a nightgown, Namjoon already has his trousers on, hands rummaging around for his shirt. 

He slips his arms through it as you adjust your straps, concerned eyes peering at you as he hurriedly does the buttons. You glance up, meeting his gaze with a firm nod. 

The door quietly creaks open as Namjoon gazes around, gesturing with his hand for you to follow him. The pair of you descend down the stairs carefully, eyes racking around for any sight of movement. 

There’s absolutely nothing ‒ an eerie silence reigning over the house instead. It’s truthfully unsettling, and you find yourself unconsciously drifting over to Namjoon’s side, slipping your fingers within his. 

Once you reach the front door, Namjoon tightens his grip on you. He slowly pushes against it, attempting not to wince at the gush of wind that spills in. As silent as it is inside the house, being outside doesn’t seem to help. 

You and Namjoon instantly separate, searching around the area with the notion that either of you will alert the other from finding something. But no matter how much you peer around, even specifically searching in the region where your window was, there seems to be no one in sight. 

The two of you return inside when it feels like your fingers and toes are prepared to fall off from the icy cold, confusion evident in your shared glance.

[jgukmilk]

he won’t know 03 (m) final

➔ summary: after weeks of hiding from the world, your friend, Mina, finally convinces you to crawl out of your cave and join her at a friday-frat party. You definitely didn’t think you’d end up with the person you had spent several weeks trying to avoid. 

➔ pairing: Jungkook X Reader

➔ genre: cheating!au, smut, angst if you squint, much deserved fluff fucking finally

➔ warnings: mention of sexual assault, unprotected sex, soft sex because i’m a whore for that shit, jungoo is the one crying in this part, jungoo being a soft idiot nothing out of the ordinary, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), handjob, fingering, mild dirty talk, cervix kisses :), cum eating, throat fucking•_•, runny mascara because it’s chef’s kiss, soft dom jungoo, a really lame biology pick up line at the end that i am pathetically proud of, that’s it..? it’s unedited btw :P

➔ wordcount: 8.3k

➔ a/n: this was a bitch to finish but holy fuck. hope you enjoy ;) feedback is always appreciated !

part 1, part 2, part 3 final.

It had officially been seventeen and-a-half days since Jungkook came to visit you at your dorm, only to end up in you crying your eyes out in front of him and shove him out of your room.

Mina came home later that night and questioned your tear-stained cheeks. Did you tell her? No, of course not. You brushed it off and convinced her that you were having a hard time with the breakup with Jaehyun, that everything was still so fresh, and you simply just needed time. Though that was as far from the truth as it could possibly be, she believed you regardless which you were thankful for.

You didn’t miss Jaehyun, not one bit. You hadn’t seen him after your last encounter, and you thanked your stars daily. To be honest you weren’t given a chance to run into that asshole since you had reduced your time spent outside of the dorm.

Your schedule pretty much consisted of wake up, go to your classes, come back to the dorm, study, eat, sleep, repeat. It sounded like one of those shabby T-shirt every twelve-year-old would wear back in middle school and show it off for being ‘quirky’.

You weren’t complaining, you preferred things this way, for now at least. Though you couldn’t deny that you missed your friends, but you needed some time alone and you knew that, so to distract yourself from missing your friends, what better way to do so than studying till the ass-crack of dawn on a Friday night.

Fridays were the only day of the week you could spend peacefully unbothered. Every other day would consist of countless texts and calls from your friends asking about your whereabouts and why they almost never saw you around campus anymore.

To which you told them you were busy studying and thanked them for checking in on you. It wasn’t a complete lie, you were, in fact, busy studying. They never saw you because, you were always on your desk burying your face between the pages of a textbook. What you didn’t tell them was that you were so far ahead with the curriculum that you could go a whole two weeks without even touching any of your books and you wouldn’t be behind.

You never realized how much you had read ahead until a few days ago when your biology professor had only begun to teach you about DNA replication, transcription and translation. You had already covered half of it. 

Your professor always did say that the unspoken rule of studies was to always read ahead. Though you didn’t think he meant to this certain extent.

You hadn’t felt academic stress in a while due to your habit of studying so much, and you were happy about it of course, but holy fuck, you were so bored, and it was starting to get to you.

“Y/N!” perfect timing for your best friend to break you out of your thoughts. Mina happily pranced through your shared dorm room and over to you, “Mina” you said back, smiling, although not in the same enthusiasm, meh – A for effort. 

“Oh my god, you’re actually awake,” she said, placing herself on her bed while remaining eye contact with you.

“Well yeah, I have some topics I still need to cover before I go to bed,” Lies. You certainly didn’t have any topics you needed to cover. You would’ve gone to bed if you knew Mina was coming back to the dorm so early. It was Friday night after all, which meant that Mina was out partying with the rest of the guys. Not today, apparently.

“Isn’t there a party today?” you asked, flipping through the pages of the book in front of you, pretending to read through the paragraphs that seemed like nothing more than dull words.

“Well… yeah, but, I figured I’d rather spend my night with you – you know, since it’s... it’s been a while,” you immediately stopped fiddling with the paper, “oh,” was all you could say. “I-I mean, if you wanna study, you totally can! I don’t want to interrupt or – or anything.” You shook your head, “no, no… uhm, I could use a break anyway.” Her face relaxed.

“So… how’ve you been?” you looked around the room, “I’m okay, just studying, nothing else really,” you reassured her “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she said, barely above a whisper, however you could still make out the melancholic tone hidden behind her voice.

“yeah… I’m sorry, I’m just – “

“studying? Yeah that seems to be your entire world lately.” She cut you off, her voice a little louder than it was previously. You opened your mouth to respond but – “Y/N c’mon, I know I haven’t necessarily been with you physically lately, but I’m not oblivious. Our exams are in a couple of months and you’re studying as if they’re tomorrow.” She explained all in one breath, “the curriculum this semester isn’t even that content-heavy, even the professors told us we could take it easy.”

“where are you going with this?” you asked in a weak voice. She seemed to have you all figured out. You truly underestimated how well your best friend understood you. “I just want to know why? Why are you avoiding your friends… why are you avoiding me?”

And then it came back. Everything you had been trying to avoid for the past two weeks came back. Jaehyun, the cheating, the assault, Jungkook. You began to feel your eyes stinging, subconsciously you averted them towards the ceiling. “Y/N, there’s something you’re not telling me. I want to help, please let me help.”

You made your way towards the bed, seating yourself next to her, “is this about Jaehyun? Do you miss hi–“

“No, God no I don’t, I’m so happy he’s out of my life,” she looked at you perplexed. And so, you told her. You told her absolutely everything, all the way from Jaehyun trying to touch you when you were trying to explain yourself to him, to the conversation you had with Jungkook in your dorm room several days ago.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you swiftly reached for her hand as you saw her attempt to rush out of your shared dorm, “no! I… It’s over now, he’s out of my life, there’s no reason to go look for him.”

“Of course there is! Why didn’t you–!” She yelled, however quickly stopped herself to calm down. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? He’s getting away with this when he deserves to rot in hell.” It wasn’t that simple. You never wanted to see him again, and telling any form of authority about what had happened certainly meant you were going to cross paths with him often.

Plus, it wasn’t even likely that they would’ve believed you, after all it was your word against his. There was no physical evidence of what he had done. You had your ripped clothes but you threw those away the day after the incident, you never wanted to look at them again and be reminded of this crap.

Then you had the bruises on your wrist, but Jaehyun could easily say that you guys had been into some sort of bdsm to make them believe him. They were also healed now, so there was no evidence at all to secure your side.

“I don’t want to constantly be reminded of what he did, I just want to move forward. Please, you can’t tell anyone.” Your voice cracked at the end, in which Mina reached out to hold your hand. “I don’t want anyone to know,” you cried.

“I’m so sorry, bug,” Mina rubbed your back empathetically, in a subtle attempt to calm you down. Though Mina tried her best to not scream at the top of her lungs, spitting out every profanity to curse Jaehyun. This wasn’t about her, and she knew that very well.

All she could do was comfort you and listen to everything you had bottled up for weeks. “You know what you need?” she smiled at you gently. You sniffled, rubbing your red, tear-stained cheeks, “what?”

“You need fresh air, to doll up and feel good! We all miss you so much Y/N, I don’t want you to spend another Friday night in here alone by yourself.” You raised an eyebrow, silently urging her to continue, “Wooyoung’s parent are out of town for the weekend so he’s hosting are party.”

“And?”

“And we’re going!” she clapped excitingly, “no Mina I–“ she held both your hands tightly, puppy eyes were presented right in front of you, “pleaseeee, just for an hour, you can leave after that if you don’t like it.” 

You thought about it for a moment. You did deserve a break, you needed to get out of the dorm anyway, have some fun with your friends, maybe even get a bit of well-deserved alcohol in your system.

“Fuck it, let’s do i–“

“YES! Okay, okay I know exactly what you’re wearing.” She rushed over to her closet, rummaging through fabric after fabric while you silently watched behind her, seated on your own bed. “Put this on right now,” You didn’t get a good look at the clothing item she threw at you, all you knew was that the fabric was quite tiny. It was a beautiful dark navy and black fabric that was smooth to the touch.

It was a woolen, striped bodycon dress. True to its name – it looked very tight. You looked at her perplexed, “that’s me being nice. My other option was throwing you my skirt that would barely cover your juicy ass.” You rolled your eyes, but smiled nonetheless, “fine, what shoes with?” she pointed at your black high-top converse that were placed neatly by the door. Alright, black converse it was.

–

“Y/N?” was the first thing you heard when walking through the door, entering the crowd of drunks. Before you stood your friends, the friends you had missed oh so much. Jimin was the first to run to you, lifting you off the ground to swing you around, “Y/N!” He laughed excitingly. Right behind him stood Seokjin, “Okay, I’ve had too much to drink guys I’m starting see Y/N,” you couldn’t help but laugh, “Hi Jin.”

One by one, they each gave you a heartwarming hug. Wow, you missed them, and you didn’t even realize, “about time you got out of the damn dorm,” Taehyung complained, you playfully slapped his shoulder. “You don’t get to say shit, you rot in your own dorm just as much as I do when you don’t have classes,” smiling, he scoffed, “I have altered my ways, about time you did too,” you shook your head.

You hadn’t noticed that an hour had already passed by, and you didn’t want to leave one bit. Your night was just getting started. Looking around you spotted all your friends, all but two. Neither had you seen the entire party: Yoongi and Jungkook.

“Jin!” you loudly spoke through the banging music, “yeah?!” he replied, “have you seen Yoongi?” you cupped your mouth in attempt to speak as clearly as possible, “What?! No thank you! I don’t wan’t Oolong tea. There’s booze why would I want tea?!” You rubbed your face, dragging Jin’s ear closer to your mouth, “Have you seen Yoongi?”

“OW, Jesus woman.” He rubbed his ear, “He should be in the kitchen,” you thanked him, and apologetically smiled for almost ripping his ear off.

You skipped your way through the heavy crowd of drunk youth. Some of which even looked younger than that. A string of ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ was heard from you as you pushed your way to the kitchen.

“Yoongi?” he turned around, seeing you. He eyed the drink in his hand that resembled the color of piss, “I’ve had too much,” the bottom of the cup now faced the ceiling, the remainder of the liquid spilling down the edge of the cup and down the sink.

“Okay, you guys really have to stop doing that,” you laughed.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” The mint-haired boy asked in a monotone, your smile faltered.

“I’m happy to see you too?” your voice was skeptical. He seemed annoyed, which frankly, you didn’t understand. You hadn’t seen the man in well over two weeks, no way had he found a reason to be mad at you unless you had happened to eat the last lamb skewer in his dream. He always did love his lamb skewers.

“’M sorry, my head’s spinning,” instantly your suspicion was replaced with worry. You quickly made your way to the sink and filled a glass with cold water and handed it to him, which he gratefully accepted. “How’ve you been?”

You sighed, “you want the rainbow-sprinkled version or the one that was dragged through the mud, shat and pissed on,” he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’ll take the piss-stained version, thank you.” He placed the red, water filled plastic cup next to him on the kitchen counter.

“Rough couple of weeks. I’m doing better though, so that’s something.” You shrugged your shoulders. Yoongi listened carefully, gently tilting his head to the side anticipating for you to keep going, however you didn’t, that was all you were going to say. Yoongi wasn’t stupid, clearly something had happened to make you disappear for weeks, but whatever it was it had to remain unknown for him – he wasn’t going to push you to talk to him.

“And where’s Jaehyun been through all of this?” he speculated.

“Uhm, we broke up,” you tried to laugh it off. His brows raised in surprise.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry–“ your hands swung in front of you to shake them. To Yoongi, you had most likely looked like you were sad from the breakup, understandably so. Afterall that is the typical reaction to a breakup, isn’t it?

“Don’t be! My god, no. It could – I’m not –“ you closed your eyes, sighing gently, “It was for the best.”

-

“I’m not going, Tae,” Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose with thumb and index finger, attempting to rub the non-existing headache out of his temples.

“Come on, Jungkook. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve partied with all of us,” a hot minute, was putting it lightly. Jungkook was currently in his own shared dorm with Taehyung, with a black DualShock controller seated in his lap – enjoying a game of overwatch shortly before Taehyung had dialed his number. Several empty packets of ramen placed randomly across the room. 

Different flavors of course. Variety was important.

“Can’t. ‘m busy.” Though Jungkook couldn’t see it, he was sure Taehyung had rolled his eyes through the other line. “Busy my ass,” Taehyung sighed, “you do this every week.”

“I wouldn’t have to do this every week if you would just stop asking,” Jungkook spat back, with a little more attitude than he had intended. “Jungshi,” the older friend started, “you can’t let this bother you forever,” he knew. Fuck, no one knew better than Jungkook that he couldn’t spend the rest of eternity sulking over this. Over you.

But no one knew how Jungkook was feeling either, every living fiber of his felt either conflicted or guilty. He couldn’t help but think that what had happened to you, was partially his fault – no, it was entirely his fault. Whatever Jaehyun had done was because of Jungkook.

Your words circled back and forth in his mind, day and night. Whenever he closed his eyes all he could see was your tear-stained orbs looking at him with so much hurt and hatred. Telling him to leave and that you never wanted to see him again.

All he wanted to do was talk to you, to know how you were feeling. Were you okay? Were you not? Jungkook had to make peace with the fact that he might in fact never get any answer for any of his questions. All he wanted was to see you, just for one small, useless moment.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Frankly, it seemed like you had completely vanished from the face of the earth, even the guys hadn’t seen you. He managed to get a hold of Mina a few times, briefly asking of your whereabouts. She always tried her best to console and reassure him that you were okay, you were just always busy lately.

Busy.

You were always busy. Jungkook wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what it meant: you were escaping.

Busy.

Oh, how Jungkook had grown to hate that word. How very hypocritical of him, he was mentally scolding you for using the lame excuse of being ‘busy’, all while doing the exact same behind the screen of his phone to his best friend.

“I just need time, hyung.” Jungkook tried to justify. “Time?” Taehyung scoffed, “You’ve had two weeks. I’m sorry Guk, but I’m not gonna sit around while I watch you completely lose yourself.” The younger slid further down the chair, staring blankly at the bright screen displaying the home-screen of his favorite video game.

“She’s here.”

Silence…

You… you were there? He could see you. Jungkook had a chance to see you. “Good to know,” was all he could say. “And you don’t give a rat’s ass?” Of course, he did, but he couldn’t because, “she doesn’t want to see me, hyung. If I show up, I’ll ruin her night. She isn’t hiding from the world anymore.”

“You can’t be sure– “

“Yes, I can,” Jungkook closed his eyes, a small exhale moved past his lips, “I can’t ruin this. Please don’t make me ruin this for her.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He felt weak. He couldn’t describe the growing urge he felt to rush over to whatever party you were at, just to see you. But he couldn’t be selfish. Not again.

Last time he acted selfishly he hurt you. He lost you. He wasn’t sure how it could get any worse – after all, you were out of his life, but Jungkook wasn’t willing to be daring, not if it meant it would hurt you again.

“Fine,” an extended beep was heard from the small speaker of the phone. Completely defeated, Jungkook gently threw his phone back onto his bed. Leaning back in his chair he faced the ceiling. He couldn’t seem to get himself to play another game, so shutting everything down, he went to get himself ready for bed.

Diving under the cool, fluffy sheets didn’t seem to be enough for Jungkook to knock out, which was odd. Jungkook could easily fall asleep anywhere on anything. One time he even managed to fall into a deep sleep after downing two 500ml Monster energy drinks. He had planned to pull an all-nighter with some of his online friends for a good few games of Valorant, the best way to do so was to shove an insanely unhealthy amount of energy drinks down the hatch.

He didn’t expect it to be so easy to fall asleep right away – he didn’t even remember walking over to his bed before dropping dead. But this, this was just frustrating.

He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, until when he finally felt his eyelids become heavy, a key was heard jiggling in the lock of the door. It must’ve taken Jungkook longer to fall asleep than he had anticipated if Taehyung had already decided to leave the party; that boy wouldn’t leave a party unless bits of the morning sunlight was peeking through the windows of the house of the host.

The door finally opened. Jungkook squinted his eyes, adjusting to the new light shining through the door frame. A black silhouette walked pasted the door. It wasn’t until Jungkook’s blurry vision had cleared up that he noticed a feminine like figure standing at the door. Not just anybody, no.

You. In fact.

Jungkook felt his heart begin to tie knots. He was dreaming for sure; there was no way you could just appear in his dorm of all dorms. But there you were, in the flesh. You gently clasped the bundle of keys in your palm, preventing them from making any further noise, taking soft strides through the room – you probably thought he was asleep.  

You quietly made your way over to Taehyung’s bed, opening the drawer of his nightstand. Jungkook’s eyes monitoring your every move went completely unnoticed by you. The poor boy was in awe, it was like you were an angel that had descended from heaven and blessed him with your presence. Frankly, in Jungkook’s eyes, you were an angel.

You let a small aha slip past your lips, in your hands was a turquoise polaroid camera. You neared the delicate camera to your face, making sure it was the right item through the darkness, and indeed it was.

About to make your way out of the dorm, your head turned slightly; in the direction of the boy that was currently sweating his balls off and his heart pounding like crazy. Fuck, did you see him looking at you? You must’ve, you wouldn’t look at him otherwise. Could you hear his heart beating through his ribcage? That has to be it, after all it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

He hurriedly closed his eyes, praying to the lord above that for once in Jungkook’s cursed life, the spirits would work in his favor. God, if you do this for me, I won’t fart on Taehyung’s head pillow anymore.

You slowly made your way over to Jungkook’s bed, with each step you took he felt a new set of sweat gather in his warm palms. He couldn’t feel anything, all he heard was the shuffle of his blanket. The blanket that was supposed to be on him.

While Jungkook had gone unnoticed to you, the absence of his soft, grey blanket on his body had been completely disregarded. He had tossed so much in his unreachable sleep that he had kicked his blanket right off of him.

Not only did Jungkook feel his body overcome in warmth, but his heart also danced at the thought of you going out of your way to cover him in his blanket. Your kindness really was out of this world.

No matter how many times someone had hurt you, you never failed to leave the ways of resentment and treat people with kindness. You were truly too kind for your own good. That was one of your qualities that Jungkook was most fond of, the world didn’t deserve you. it didn’t deserve an angel.

You on the other hand, were completely oblivious to the fact that the man in front of you was wide awake. You crouched down by the side of his bed, you really should get going, you weren’t supposed to linger for so long.

Your eyes trailed the sleeping beauty on the bed. He looked so peaceful, his long eyelashes resting on the top of his cheek, a few of the hairs grazing the scar on right side of the skin. His dark hair was sprawled over his forehead. His lips were sealed, but slightly pouty, they looked so soft. 

You couldn’t make much of his face, the only source of light being the moon light throw the window.

You hand moved on its own. Fingers trailing to the strands of the dark hair, moving the silky locks out of his face.

You wish things had been different between you. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss Jungkook, which is the exact lie you had been telling yourself for weeks. Even though he was right in front of you, you missed him. No, fuck. You couldn’t miss him, even though you wanted things to be different, they never could be.

You snapped out of your daze, removing your hands from his face, you stood up and turned your heel.

“Don’t leave.” You flinched, a small holy shit, was heard from you. Turning back around, you saw Jungkook in the exact same position you had left him in, the only difference was that his eyes were now open. The warm orbs you were completely dazed by were now looking at you.

You had to leave, but you couldn’t, your feet grew minds of their own, obediently staying in place.

Jungkook sat up from his bed, never breaking eye contact with you. He was now seated at the edge of his bed, hands on either side of his thighs, tightly clenching on the sheets beneath him in order to prevent himself from reaching out after you.

There was no exchange of words, you were both lost in each other’s gazes. You were clutching your jacket tightly, looking like a dear caught in head lights. You took a step backwards, gathering every ounce of power you had in your body to try and get out of there. You just couldn’t stay.

“Please,” his voice sounded broken. There it was again – the expression on his face you had never learned to read. His eyelids were droopy, eyebrows relaxed yet slightly furrowed.

He rose from his bed, testing the waters. He examined your reaction before moving any further. When he saw you standing completely still, he took a step forward; you didn’t move, so he took yet another step. That’s when you started to back away, you didn’t look scared or alarmed, so he continued.

This kept going until the back of your thighs met a desk you had failed to notice was there in the first place. You have got to start paying more attention to your surroundings.

Jungkook was now in front of you, eyes looking at yours, searching for any sign of uncertainty. But all he saw was sadness and hurt. His heart clenched in discomfort, because partially – if not all – of the hurt in your eyes was because of him.

He wanted to pour his heart out to you, tell you he was sorry for being an asshole. Tell you he would cut his heart into pieces and hand it to you one by one if that’s what it took to make you happy.

But he wanted to be cautious, he didn’t want to scare you off. So instead, he carefully, carefully, lifted his hand up to your face. The knuckle of his middle finger grazed the side of your cheek. You didn’t flinch.

He extended his fingers to hold your cheek in his palm, his thumb ever so slightly caressing the flush skin. It wasn’t until you leaned into his touch that he felt how warm you were. He could barely make out the light tint of a rosy color on your cheeks. Must’ve been from the booze you’ve ingested at the party, he thought.

Unbeknownst to him, you had barely had enough alcohol to call yourself tipsy.

Deep in your own thoughts, you felt Jungkook’s other hand slip around your waist, the fingers on your cheek descended down to accompany his other hand.

He was hugging you. His face was buried right in the crook of your neck, arms securely wrapped around your frame, fearing for his dear life that you were going to let go of him. His fragile soul couldn’t take it if you did.

You, however, couldn’t bring yourself to hug him back, not until you felt the skin on your shoulder grow wet. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, barely above a whisper – audible to your ear, nonetheless.

He pulled away, his hands resting on your sides lamely. His eyes were glossy, the tip of his nose red, and a few tears had trailed down his cheeks, leaving stains of the salty water. “I’m – It’s my fault, all of it, I know I don’t deserve it but please forgive me.” he sniffled, “I know you hate me, and you have every right to – “

“I don’t hate you,” for the first time that night, you spoke to him. Your voice instantly sedated the distress in Jungkook. You wiped the tears streaming down his face with your cold thumb, which only caused more to fall. “You should… It’s all my fault.”

Although that had been your exact theory for the past weeks, you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that the statement was true anymore. You continuously blamed Jungkook for everything that had happened to you, but that wasn’t fair, you realized that now.

Because if Jungkook really was at fault, then so were you. After all, it takes two to tango.

“It’s not,” you tried to soothe the tremendous guilt you could recognize behind his doe eyes, it was the exact same guilt you had felt when you returned from the weekend at the summerhouse. The same guilt that had eaten every bit of your fiber. Blaming yourself for days for having cheated on your now ex-boyfriend who turned out to be the biggest piece of shit to walk the earth.

“You didn’t force me to do anything,” you admitted, “but that fucker – “ Jaehyun, Jungkook hissed.

“Anything that came after the summerhouse wasn’t your fault. Jaehyun showed me who he really was – an asshole in disguise,” at the mention of what you had been through, Jungkook’s grip on your sides tightened slightly. You knew he was blaming himself for what Jaehyun had done.

It wasn’t anyone but Jaehyun’s fault.

You cupped his face in both your hands, smiling softly, “please stop blaming yourself for something you had no control over.” You spoke to him, but also to yourself.

For the longest time you thought it was your fault, that if you hadn’t slept with Jungkook, that you and Jaehyun would still be happy and he would never had touched you like he did.

You and Jaehyun hadn’t been happy for a while, and if he hadn’t snapped you would’ve continued to date A-level garbage.

It took you some time to realize that it was never your fault, and it most certainly wasn’t Jungkook’s fault. Your stomach dropped at the thought of him blaming himself so mercilessly.  

He sniffled harder at your words, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorr–“

The kiss was soft. You could tell he completely froze against your lips. Your hands were still on his cheeks; the feel of the occasional tear grazed the skin of your fingers. It didn’t take long for him to melt completely against the plush of your warm lips.

His arms moved back around your waist, pulling you against him until you were flush against his chest. You pulled away. He followed you, refusing that’d be the end of your kiss. His pleading lips captured yours in a second kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss, not having much room to move them any place else when Jungkook was pressing himself so hard against you.

“I missed you,” he breathed between the kiss “so much.” Fuck, if only he knew how much you had missed him, “I couldn’t bare not having you around me.” You hummed against his mouth, hoping he understood that you reciprocated.

You felt his warm tongue scrape against your top lip, pleading to have a taste of yours. You complied easily. Opening your mouth for him to explore the heavenly wonder that was your mouth.

You had kissed Jungkook before, but this felt different, it was softer, much more gentle. The gliding of his tongue against yours felt new, but so right.

You soon came to the agreement that kissing Jungkook was one of your favorite things to do. The slow dance of your lips increased the beating of your heart, you were sure he could feel it knock against his chest.

He lifted your body, as if you were a feather and seated you on the desk behind you, standing right between your legs. His hands resting on either thigh, gently caressing the bare flesh.

Your lips suddenly felt cold, opening your eyes you found Jungkook’s brown orbs staring right at you. Worry began to creep its way up your spine. “What’s wrong?”

“Do… Do you want me to stop?”

He was being careful. Careful not to cross any boundaries. He couldn’t fuck up again, not this time. You smiled at him. Taking his hand in yours, you placed a peck at the top of his palm, “not at all.”

Jungkook swears his heart melted then and there; the softness in your eyes, the relaxed tone of your voice, there was no hesitation. You felt safe, which was everything Jungkook ever wanted.

He leaned back in, you closed your eyes, puckering up thinking he was going in for another kiss. You felt a pair of soft bud-like lips at the side of your jaw, “beautiful,” he whispered to himself. He kissed the top of your covered shoulder.

You leaned back slightly, both hands steady behind you to support you weight. Jungkook leaned forward, following you, refusing that any sort of distance was between you.

Even though you had given him the ok, you could feel Jungkook was slightly hesitant in his moves, which was nothing like the Jungkook you had in front of you almost an entire month ago. He was so confident and cocky, yet now, he seemed unsure.

He was afraid of touching you and screwing up everything.

“I won’t leave this time,” you whispered, moving your head so that you were now looking at him, “I’m not gonna run away.” You took his hand in yours, guiding them towards your tits. Jungkook watched in awe as his hand completely engulfed your breast.

You let go of his hand when you felt him begin to fondle with the perky tit. He moved back to your neck, but instead of small affectionate kisses, he now began to place open-mouthed kisses at the expanse of your neck. You tilted your head to the side, allowing him more space; you felt the corners of his lips curl slightly.

You gasped at the feeling of his tongue gliding over the skin, slapping your hand over your mouth. While one of his hands were busy with your chest, the other removed the hand from your face, “don’t, you sound so pretty.”

The fingers that were once wrapped around your hand moved down your torso, grazing the apex of your thigh. With his mouth still busy on your neck, he hoisted the length of your stripped dress (that was actually Mina’s), just enough to expose most of your legs, but not enough to reveal the fabric of your underwear.

The pad of his cold fingers slithered over the black textile experimentally. Carefully brushing over your clothed clit, you whimpered. You sounded downright touch deprived.

The lustful boy in front of you began sucking on your neck, all while cupping your clothed cunt without warning. “Fuck,” You jumped at the overwhelming touch.

“So sensitive” he mumbled, “aren’t you, angel,” you hummed at the rightfully missed affectionate name. You gripped his shoulders when you felt him massage a little harsher at your mound. Your underwear was beginning to stick to your folds embarrassingly fast.

Jungkook curled a finger around the section of fabric that was directly against your pussy. Providing access for his hand to touch your warmth without removing your underwear. A muffled, high pitched moan of his name rolled off your tongue at his slender finger sliding into your velvety walls.

You were already so wet, and you were sure he noticed how embarrassed you were about it, with the way you were discreetly trying to close your legs.

He used his other hand to keep your legs apart. “Don’t be shy,” he soothed, “I love this pretty” he scraped his finger against the spongy spot, “pretty pussy.”

“Jungkook, please,” you whined, it only caused Jungkook to chuckle whole-heartedly at your neediness, “what is it, baby?” he pressed his thumb against your clit, gently tapping at it. You shuttered.

“I, fuck, I–“ your thighs began to tense, “tell me,” he urged. You were trying your best, but every sentence you were attempted to formulate was instantly thrown out the window the second Jungkook added another finger into your cunt.

His fingers were scraping at your walls, pumping into you or scissoring. The dangerous combination of all of the above, and his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns on your nub had you seeing stars.

Too focused on his magical fingers, you overlooked the small detail of Jungkook now sitting between your thighs, kneeling. He rubbed your thigh soothingly.

Deciding to help you out, Jungkook wrapped his fingers around the lame excuse of your panties, dragging the pathetic fabric down your legs. You were now completely exposed.

Jungkook eyes you between your legs, shamelessly. “Pretty girl,” he wooed. He pulled his fingers out of you, you whined at the empty feeling.

He brought his soaked fingers up to his tongue, slowly licking them clean, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Telling yourself you could cum from the sight alone was in no way an understatement.

“Mmm, good, so fucking good.” He purred against his fingers. “Bet it would taste even better from here,” teasingly, he slid his finger up your soaked slit, punctuating his sentence, “wouldn’t it, angel?” You quivered at his words. “is that what you want?” yes. “your words, pretty girl.”  

“Yes – Yes, please. Please eat me out,” without further ado, Jungkook wasted no time placing a much-deserved kiss on your swollen bud. You moaned in relief, throwing your head back at the feeling of Jungkook’s lips circling your clit.

You bucked your hips at the feeling of his tongue sloppily gliding against your folds. Your fingers found themselves tangled in Jungkook’s dark and messy locks. He praised you.

Small grunts and low moans were felt against your warm cunt, “such a pretty pussy,” he mumbled to himself against you. You clenched around nothing at the compliment.

“Feels so good,” you cooed, “yeah?” small licks turned into long laps, “yeah – fuck, don’t stop.” Stopping was the furthest thing from Jungkook’s mind.

You felt knots beginning to tie at the pit of your stomach, Jungkook could easily feel you were about to burst. The constant tugging of his hair and the pulsating cunt was all he needed, to know he was doing his job right.

“I love seeing you so needy for me,” at this point, you’re chanting his name shamelessly. It isn’t until Jungkook adds a finger lamely circling your clit that you feel you’re about to snap. The familiar ache between your legs became almost unbearable, you threw your head back and shut your eyes.

“Eyes on me when you cum,” you obliged. Bending your head forward to watch Jungkook eat your cunt as if he hadn’t eaten in days. The view was the most sinful yet the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. His brows are furrowed, he murmured against your warmth. You occasionally saw the tip of his nose, and when you did it was absolutely soaked in your arousal.

“Oh my fuck– Jungkook.”

It’s only when Jungkook uttered his next sentence that you felt the knot in your stomach unravel. “Fuck, baby, I could eat you out for the rest of my life,” you’re breaking apart.

Your hips surge forward, pathetically grinding on Jungkook’s face — he lets you. Helping you ride out your high, he slowly laps his tongue over your spasming pussy. He’s watching your every move, “delicious,” he smiled innocently as if his mouth wasn’t completely covered in your cum.

He stood up once again, licked his lips clean in the process and you swore you just felt something trail down your thigh. Once he was at eye-level with you, you looked down and saw the tent that has formed in his sweatpants.

Naturally, you go to grab his cock. Not wanting to waste time, you wrapped your fingers around it over the material. He visibly shuttered at the feeling, and it wasn’t until then that you realized you hadn’t touched Jungkook – at all. Not even back at the summer house.

Here you were, complaining over how selfish Jaehyun used to be whenever you two were having sex, saying he never touched you properly or showed any ounce of effort.

You weren’t any different. So far, Jungkook had only been the giver, and you had been a spoiled pillow princess.

Trailing your eyes back up to Jungkook, you watched him carefully as you curled a finger around the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers simultaneously, dragging the unnecessary material down his legs.

His cock sprung up, hitting his stomach. The tip was red and hot, several drops of precum dripped down the angry shaft. He was impossibly hard and you began to feel guilt overcome you for having been so selfish with pleasure. Determined to make it up to him, you placed all five tips of your fingers at the very apex of his cock, sliding down until your palm comes in contact with the tip.

The prettiest whine you’d ever heard rolled off of Jungkook’s lips, he watched you attentively, “y-you don’t have to–“ you shushed him, “I want to.”

You twist your wrist and positioned your fingers around his dick. Using your thumb to spread the precum, you lightly brush his frenulum in which he grunts, “fuck, babyyy,” unintentionally thrusting up into your hand.

You squeezed harder and began to pump his cock. The surprising rotation of your wrist was enough to have him slap both hands on either side of the desk, completely trapping you.

“Faster,” he pleads, “go faster,” and you do. His head drops down to your shoulder. He tried to distract himself by sucking another bruise onto the skin of your neck, but it was completely hopeless with the pace your hand was pumping.

Rhythmically, he was subtly thrusting his hips into your hand, matching the pace. He couldn’t wait to fuck you, so for the time being, he had to fuck your hand. And God, it felt so good it was almost pathetic how much a handjob could rile him up.

You felt his hips stutter, and now it was his turn to chant your name. You placed a soothing kiss on the expanse of his shoulder, “Mmm gonna – haah, shit,” You hurriedly pushed him back gently and dropped to your knees. “What are you – Fuck!”

Most of his length is now shoved down as much as your gag reflex allows, and it isn’t until you have Jungkook’s cock halfway down your throat that you realize how fucking impressive his size is. The thought of having him stretch you out with his girth is enough to make you wet all over again.

Jungkook can’t resist collecting your strands of hair up into a ponytail and piston into your mouth, “s-sorry, I’m sorry,” strings of apologies are heard throughout the room, along with the sound of you choking. Your eyes begin to sting, fresh tears falling down the side of your cheek. He continues to fuck your throat, and contrary to his belief, you fucking love it.

You steady yourself by grabbing the sides of his thighs. Echoes of Jungkook’s moans and heavy sighs fill the room, alongside the sound of his cock continuously thrusting down your throat.

“so pretty, you’re s-so fucking pretty like this,” you hum at his praise, “like the feeling of my cock down your throat, huh? Dirty girl, fuck,” at this point your mascara had completely stained your cheeks.

The sight of your brows furrowed, eyes filled with tears, mascara-stained cheeks, and the absolute cherry on top: Jungkook repeatedly plunging his impossibly hard cock down your sore throat, was all it took for him to blow his load.

You’ve never heard such a moan come from Jungkook, it sounded broken and you’re certain it’s the most beautiful thing you’ll ever hear in your life. You felt the warm, white liquid coat the walls of your cheeks and throat and you made sure to swallow every single drop.

You’re stopped from licking his dick clean when Jungkook pulls you back up to meet him at eye level. He lifts you up to sit at the desk again, hands on either side of you, he looks you dead in the eye, “I want to fuck you,” he says bluntly.

Your eyes widen slightly at his directness. Confused, you look down at his dick and holy fuck – he was still incredibly hard. Seriously, this boy had some serious stamina. You assumed his extraordinary stamina must’ve developed all those years in the gym.

You felt tiny under his gaze, you meet his eyes, nonetheless.

“Come here and fuck me then.” You felt bold when a shaky breath left his mouth. He hoisted both your legs up to his waist, causing you to lean back slightly, both your hands were forced to sit behind you once again to prevent yourself from falling backwards.

Without another word, Jungkook sealed the distance between your lips with a sweet kiss.

“Ohmygod–” was all you were able to say when his cock slowly disappeared inside of you, your walls of warmth hugging his length. Once again, you had underestimated just how big Jungkook actually was. He snaked a hand to meet the small of your back to steady himself before he finally began to pull himself out, leaving his tip, only to push back in.

You whined at the delicious stretch. Setting a fixed pace, Jungkook repeatedly thrusted into you, while his lips were busy on yours. You wrapped both arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in the hairs of his nape. “Mmm fuck,” he moaned deliciously against your lips.

“Feels good?” he asked, parting your lips with a soft chu. You nodded; your eyelids lazily drooped over your orbs; eyebrows scrunched together at the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix. He felt so good.

“Say it,” he rasped, “tell me how good it feels,” his thrusts grew harder, “tell me how good I’m fucking this pretty pussy. My pussy,” his pussy, yes, it was his.

You cried at the claim. “It feels so good Guk – fuck I love when you fuck me like this.”

He pounded harder, as if he was trying to punctuate something. Both your breaths quickened, equally as eager to chase your own high as you were each other’s. Pushing his chests flush against yours, he leaned his forehead against yours, neither of you broke eye contact.

“L-love you,” he cried. “I love you.”

It felt as if all the air in your lungs was punched out of you, you couldn’t pinpoint whether it was Jungkook’s hips thrusting into yours unforgivingly, or if it was the fact that the boy you basically watched grow up happened to be the same person you’ve liked since middle-school, standing in front of you, telling you he loves you.  

You lied to yourself, you genuinely thought whatever strong feeling you felt for Jungkook had died down, that you had truly moved on. You even got a boyfriend and all that.

But it wasn’t until you heard Jungkook utter those three words that you realized they never went away, no – you had hidden those feelings away in a box and chained several chains around it to keep them suppressed.

You loved him too, of course you did. You never stopped loving him for fucks sake. It pains you to think about how much crap both of you were put through for you to realize this.

“I love you.”

12-year-old Y/N was applauding and smiling like crazy; you finally said it. The love you had carried for Jungkook in your poor overwhelmed heart was finally spilled all over the table.

Jungkook’s hips stuttered at your reciprocating words. He hadn’t expected you to say it back, but for the love of all that is holy; he loved hearing you say it, it sounded so pretty coming from you. “Say it again,” he was now smiling, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

His eyes were glowing, so of course you had to say it again, “I love you. Fuck – I always have.”

“Again.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” completely out of breath, you caressed the side of his cheek, watching as his eyes teared up once again. He only fastened his pace, if that was even humanly possible. Lovingly, you ran your thumb across the scar that laid right on his cheek, “I am in love with you.”

That being said – Jungkook exploded, with you following right after him. You were holding on to each other for dear life, with slow pumps to help ride out your highs. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, at your final clench.

Small strings of I love you’s were heard from Jungkook who was breathlessly panting into your neck. He kissed your temple, guiding a small string of hair behind your ear.

“You know,” he started, “I’ve been in love with you since freshman year of high school,” he smiled adoringly at you, “the first day we had a biology class, I saw you slip a note into my locker that read ‘if I could be a nitrogen base, I’d be adenine so I could be paired with U.’ and there was a small purple bellflower taped to the corner of the paper. You’ve had my heart ever since that day.”

Your eyes widened, physically cringing at yourself in your teenage years, “I can’t believe you knew it was me, and really? That’s what it took for you to like me back?” You giggled, “you can’t blame me, you were, and still are, extremely adorable.” He shrugged his shoulders. You gently pushed his shoulders, feeling your face turn red at the reminder of your rather sappy biology pick up line.

“Well, I’ve loved you since middle school. I win this one, Jeon.”

-

Saturday 02:57AM

“What’s taking so long, Y/N should be back by now,” Jin winced, eyeing the small watch on his wrist.

Taehyung and Mina looked at each other, “do you think it worked?” Mina questioned, a beaming smile plastered across her face, “yup,” Taehyung crossed his arms proudly. “Operation tell-Y/N-to-get-polaroid-camera-because-Taehyung’s-too-drunk-for-his-own-good-so-that-she-could-be-trapped-in-the-same-room-as-Jungkook-and-make-up… Was a success!”

-

taglist: @selinashere @jjenjen @ladyartemesia @emsuzz @iamjiminsfloor @silvlyjmhwa

[mymedicine]

Love and Other Drugs

or, 5k of new bf harry

moodboard/inspo tag + my masterlist

sum - yacht parties are cool and all, but harry really just wants to spend more time with his girl

warnings - alcohol (have I even written a fic where both mc’s are sober the whole time yet lmao), light sexy stuff (lil bit of ch*king k*nk if you squint), swearing probably, harry being a little shit, fluff to the maxxxxx

notes - good lord, this fic has been the absolute death of me. I stg, murphy’s law is real. anyways, the driving home scene is completely inspired by real life events that once made me swoon, but now I am lonely and so so tired so pls be nice to me thx much love <3

“Hold still!”

Harry whined and craned his neck away from his girlfriend’s hand, but he wasn’t able to go far with his back flush against the car door. “No baby, we’re already late!”

“But you’ve got jam on you!” Y/N cried. She reached her fingers up to rub the reddish marks off of his face, but, once again, he turned his head away like a stubborn child. “And we wouldn’t have been late if you hadn’t spent two hours combing your hair.”

“S not jam, it’s lipstick,” He insisted, deliberately ignoring her second (valid) point.

“Whatever. It’s on your cheek.”

Y/N made one final attempt to clean him up, but this time, he managed to escape the circle of her arms. He ran backwards toward the dock, taunting her playfully as he went, “Come on, baby!”

“Harry!” Given no other choice, she frantically pushed the lock button on the car key and chased after her child—er, boyfriend. She winced as her high heels hit the asphalt, feet aching against the gold sandals already. He’d slowed down a little to give her a break, but she was still panting as she yelled, “You can’t go to a fancy yacht party with lipstick on your face!”

He finally stopped running—thank God, because they were right in front of the ship and the last thing Y/N needed was to embarrass herself (or rather, be embarrassed by her man-child boyfriend) within sight of all the famous people that would surely be onboard already.

“But I like it.” He pouted as she reached him, entwining his fingers with hers before she could use them to try to scrub his face again.

Before she could reply, a familiar Irish accent boomed over the loud purring of the boat’s engine, “Harry! Y/N!”

Y/N really hoped someone was keeping an eye on Niall tonight. It was barely dusk and he already looked a little too buzzed to be leaning over the railing on the top deck. She craned her neck up to look at him, giggling to herself at the flush in his cheeks and the blonde mess on top of his head.

“Welcome abooaaard!” He waved far more aggressively than was necessary.

“Happy birthday, Niall!” Y/N yelled back at him, blocking the bright sun with one hand—a hand she discreetly wrestled out of Harry’s.

Harry, too, looked upward and was squinting into the sky. The sun was just beginning its descent into the horizon, and soon the evening would be hanging behind the silvery moon. In the mean time, the sky was bright and painted with delicate strokes of soft pink and peachy orange.

While Harry waved back at his friend, Y/N took advantage of the distraction—and his exposed cheek.

Without warning, she hurled her hand up to his face and swiped at the pink mark as hard as she could.

“Hey!” Harry whipped his head back to her, mock hurt written all over his face.

Y/N flashed him a cheeky, victorious smile. “Got it!”

September in south Florida was as hot and humid as summer anywhere else. Even out at sea, with the cool ocean wind surging throughout the top deck of the yacht, it was plenty warm enough for the guests to enjoy the outdoors.

“H, can you hold my phone and keys in your pocket?”

Harry was standing awkwardly near the railing of the boat, fiddling absently with the plume of lace and chiffon on his black top. He still had a faint reddish mark on his cheek (she wasn’t sure if it was leftover lipstick or just irritated from her rubbing at it) that Y/N, despite the turmoil that had ensued over it, found very endearing. She always thought he was handsome. She had since the first day they met four months earlier. But tonight, he was positively glowing. He shined in the fabulous black number, his skin further brightened by the setting sun and the utter joy coursing through him (the entire flute of champagne he’d already downed certainly didn’t hurt, either).

He took the phone and keys from her while she admired him, happy to help her but not without a smart remark: “You should’ve worn the dress with the pockets, love,” he chastised her playfully, a smirk dressing his berry lips.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “You said you liked the pink on me!”

Choosing her dress for the night had been an ordeal that rivaled even Harry’s complicated hair routine. She’d originally chosen a black long sleeved one with pockets that was comfortable and appropriate and matched Harry’s own all-black ensemble (which he’d had picked out for weeks). Her boyfriend rejected the black dress, pointing out that she’d be hot it in because “It’s practically summer in Miami, love.” Instead, he chose a silky pink number, midi-length and tight in all the right places with a tastefully low cowl neckline. She’d dressed it up with a few gold bracelets and a single pearl earring in her left ear that, to her satisfaction, matched Harry’s. And yeah—it didn’t have pockets, but Harry liked it and it made her feel sexy and that’s all that mattered.

Harry hummed with a tight lipped grin. “Yeah, you’re right,” His tone was innocent, almost regretful as he looked her up and down. The pink sunset behind her was highlighting her figure just right, wind rushing through her hair, exposed skin supple and tempting. Harry was mesmerized by her.

His hands moved on their own accord to gently hold her by the waist. “Your ass looks really cute in the silk…I reckon the color makes your skin glow a bit, too. And matches your makeup, and looks nice with my earring…” He continued spewing some breathy compliments at her, even after she sort of stopped listening when a waiter holding a tray of delectable looking hors d'oeuvres caught her attention.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course, honey,” she replied (mostly) honestly. He was always a mushy little sap for her, but she truly did love the way he appreciated the little things she put effort into. “Thank you for noticing those little details.”

“You’re welcome. Know ya don’ just do it f’me though,” His ring clad fingers drummed against her waist, the metal cold through the thin silky material she wore. “Love that about you.”

Y/N cracked a smile in spite of the nervous shiver washing over her at his words. She couldn’t help but notice it was already the second time he’d said that word since they’d embarked. He was treading dangerously close to the vast, uncharted l-word territory. He’s a little buzzed, she reasoned with herself, despite also knowing it was silly because he’d only had a single champagne. But then again, he was a lightweight—and judging by the way he suddenly dropped her waist to chase down a passing waitress for two more glasses, he wouldn’t be slowing down any time soon. If he told her while he was drunk, would it really count?

He returned to her side, keeping one flute for himself and presenting the other to her. “Thank you, honey,” she said, grasping the stem of it (even though she still had a half full one resting precariously on the railing behind her). It was a fitting nickname for him, she thought. She hadn’t really meant for that to become her little pet name for him, but he loved it just as much as she did. “You’re sweet.”

“You’re sweeter,” her boyfriend hummed happily, “even when you’re checking out that waiter…”

“No! I wasn’t!”

“You kinda were,” He smiled cheekily at her.

“Was not.”

“’S alright, baby. He’s handsome. You’re allowed to have a little look.” But the way he held her protectively by the hip betrayed his words.

“You know I only have eyes for you,” If that wasn’t a hint, she didn’t know what was. “I’m just hungry. He was holding bacon wrapped shrimp, I think.”

“Mmm, me too,” Harry replied, the interaction already forgotten in favor of a savory snack. He tugged on her hand so they could follow that waiter, grumbling as they padded around the crowded deck. “Niall’s a fuckin ass for not serving dinner at an evening party.”

“Oh give him a break! It’s his birthday.” she let him pull her toward the middle where more people were gathered around the bar and admiring the decor—

“Is that an ice scultpure?”

Harry was right. It was a giant clear sculpture of a guitar made entirely out of ice. People were around it, admiring the intricacies and mingling and sipping on expensive looking drinks.

“How long you bet til it melts?”

“Not before Niall accidentally knocks it over,” Y/N laughed and gestured toward the man of the hour, who indeed was stumbling over his feet while trying to maintain a conversation with a group of several strikingly beautiful looking people—models? Probably.

It was obvious that Niall hadn’t planned this for himself. The whole thing was far too elegant and classy. His drunken ramblings were entertaining, sure, but he stood out amidst the black tie formals and live R&B music floating around the large deck of the luxurious vehicle.

Harry chased down the waiter and grabbed shrimp skewers for them both while Y/N continued quietly giggling at Niall’s antics.

Minutes drifted into hours as alcohol, shrimp skewers, and joyful conversation flowed liberally about the deck. Y/N had separated herself from Harry—much to his drunken dismay—to go and mingle with some of the “famous people.” She did it all on her own, confidently striding over and striking up a conversation with anyone worthy of her attention.

“Long time no see, mate.” Mitch’s voice interrupted Harry’s inner thoughts surrounding his girlfriend. He tore his eyes away from her and turned to face his friend, who was standing with his own girlfriend beside him.

“Been busy,” Harry replied.

Sarah’s eyebrows rose as a grin spread across her cheeks. She glanced at Mitch, who wore a matching one.

“You both have been quite busy, yeah?” Sarah cocked her head toward where Y/N was, grin widening along with Harry’s eyes.

Harry hid his smile in his glass, taking a large gulp of the bubbly. “What d’ya mean?” He asked innocently.

“We saw you staring at her, buddy.”

Well, fuck. He can’t exactly deny that. He was indeed watching her as she mingled with a group of people—exceptionally beautiful people. She fit in perfectly with the models, her smile bright and dress shiny, hips swaying tantalizingly to the beat of the drums. She engaged effortlessly in what looked like an exciting conversation with A-listers and held their attention with sweeping hand gestures. Even from across the deck, he swore he could feel her joy. Light just radiated off of her and sent a gentle flutter through his belly and a heat wave through his heart.

Sarah studied him. The way his eyes twinkled and his cheeks flushed with happiness…it was obvious. “You love her.” She deadpanned.

Harry shrugged in response, a knowing smile on his face which he didn’t bother to hide this time.

“You do!” It was Mitch this time, who wrapped an arm around Sarah and looked at her with the same happy smile his friend wore.

“No comment.” A twinge of jealously bit his heart as he watched a handsome brunette lean down to whisper something in his girlfriend’s ear. He frowned instinctively, picturing the man muttering flirtatious compliments or dirty suggestions to her like he should be doing right now.

Sarah continued to watch Harry watch Y/N, unsure if he was even listening anymore. “It’s alright to admit it. Love is a beautiful thing.”

“Don’t listen to her,” said Mitch, “it’s a drug!”

“Hey look!” Harry shouted a distraction, pointing somewhere behind the two of them. He spotted two waiters bringing out an impressive tiered cake swirled with white frosting and topped with those sparkling candles. “It’s time to sing for the birthday boy!”

The boat erupted in a cacophonous rendition of the birthday song as the cake was placed on top of the bar. Night had fallen over the deck, making the sparkly decorations shine blindly bright against the moonlight. Meanwhile, Niall was dancing hysterically among the crowds, even singing along to his own birthday song in a drunken spree. At the final, …to you! he performed a dramatic bow and roared, “Thank you, beautiful people!”

Applause died slowly as Niall began grabbing peoples’ faces to kiss their cheeks in thanks. Y/N looked around for Harry, quite certain that her boyfriend would be perfectly willing to accept a kiss from the birthday boy, especially when he was inebriated. Sure enough, she caught sight of him wrapped up in an embrace with the blonde, a wide smile on his face as Mitch and Sarah laughed hysterically at the interaction.

Harry accepted the cheek kiss, just as his eyes met hers over Niall’s shoulder.

“Y/N!” He screeched and broke the embrace. He started running over to her in an uncoordinated stride, limbs flailing and most definitely spilling alcohol on other peoples’ expensive clothes.

“Y/N!” he slurred, finally reaching her side, “Gimme a kissy!”

She laughed. “You just got kissies from Niall, honey.” “But I want your lipstick on me. Yeh wiped it off.” He frowned deeply, no—melodramatically as his hand cupped his own cheeks where the pink lipstick mark once was.

She called him a little baby but obliged anyways, stamping a firm lip shaped mark on one of his flushed cheeks. He grinned wildly in response and looked at her with that look in his eyes that she absolutely adored. He was looking at her like she was royalty, like she hung the moon and commanded the sea and granted miracles upon mere mortals such as himself.

“Wish I could give you one too…” Harry trailed off, eyes wandering around the room. “Maybe then all those hot models and waiters would leave you alone.”

“Aw, you jealous baby?”

He nodded shamelessly and, with a pouty look, tucked her into his arms. He pressed a series of hard kisses on her cheeks and temples, squeezing the silky pink fabric at her waist. The feeling made her heart squeeze in the most delightful way—chest tight and warm with…with love.

“Wanna go check out the lower deck?”

And Y/N hadn’t known this man too long, but it was long enough to know that he had anything but innocent intentions with his sweet request. She was still only nursing her third glass of bubbly, but Harry’s suggestive stare and wandering hands seemed to ignite the slight heat flowing through her veins into an inferno.

It engulfed them both as Y/N’s back hit the inside of the door to the lower deck bathroom.

Harry’s lips were soft and playful and sexy all at once—just like him. He trailed hot kisses down her cheeks and jaw much like he had earlier, only now there was no audience. No need to hold back. Only hot, sweet skin swathed in pink silk and black chiffon.

“You marked me already, ’s my turn.”

Just when she was feeling a little too sober, Harry’s words drenched her in the heat of desire. This was definitely a bad idea, but it didn’t sound like one when he put it like that.

His fingers slipped from her jaw and followed his lips down to her throat, enticing her with a gentle squeeze—a warning? Or a promise for later? Either way, this bathroom escapade was fucking sliced bread and she was putty in his hands.

He sucked harshly on the supple skin of her neck without warning. A gasp slips out of Y/N’s mouth and Harry’s ringed thumb pressed deeply into the center of her throat in reprimanding. His other fingers gripped the crook of her neck, just enough to make her head spin and keep her body pliant.

Meanwhile, his other hand slithered down the smooth silk to her waist, his hold on her heavy and warm. Harry’s swollen lips retracted from her bruised neck, not before pressing a few gentle pecks to the hickeys to soothe the pain.

Y/N felt dizzy with pleasure and enveloped in love. She couldn’t help but chase his lips for a few more desperate kisses as he pulled away from her neck. She suddenly wished she could admire the marks he’d left, but the glazed, hungry look in his eyes would definitely suffice. The little bathroom felt ten degrees warmer—leaving Harry looking hot and flushed and absolutely irresistible.

“You okay, baby?” Harry whispered in the tiny space between them, words slightly slurred and dipped in bliss.

Y/N nodded aggressively, letting her hands wrap around the back of his neck where his skin was hot and hair curled adorably. “Please kiss me again.”

He did as he was told, of course. His lips moved tenderly with hers and his hands trailed lower, gently caressing her waist and hips. His fingers started a course back up to her ass, this time taking the fabric of her dress with them.

Y/N’s head felt light as a feather, no thoughts besides Harry…Harry’s hands…Harry’s lips…Harry…

She curled her thighs around his hips and he responded effortlessly, hoisting her up by the backs of her thighs and pressing taut between the cold bathroom wall and his own hot chest. The temperature in the room seemed to rise impossibly then, the sounds of breathy moans and gentle sucking kisses seamlessly diffusing into the heat and surrounding them in a delightful symphony.

Y/N was thrilled by the way Harry’s tongue tasted like champagne—as sweet and plushy as always. She decided then that she would never get tired of the feeling of his mouth on hers, of the dizzying joyful feeling his lips gave her every single time.

“Harry…honey…”

“What ’s it pretty girl?”

The pet name in his raspy accent went straight to her core. She let out another shameless whine, squeezing his waist tighter with her legs.

“I need you, Harry…”

“Hm? Need what?”

She groaned—now he wanted to be a tease. After he’d gotten to give her the hickeys like he wanted.

“Harry, please.”

“‘M just messing, pretty girl. I know what you ne—“

Suddenly, a loud crash rang out in the little cabin. Y/N let out a screech and sprang away from Harry, landing awkwardly on her stiletto heels. Wide eyed, she and Harry both looked up toward the source of the sound. Muffled shouts followed, in the midst of a horrible shattering sound, like broken glass, or hail or—

“The ice sculpture!”

They were both wide eyed and panting and a little sweaty, hair tousled and lips swollen red.

“Oh shit,” There were more muffled shouts and some shuffling of feet above them. Even through the ornate ceiling of the bathroom, it was clear there was an ordeal going on up there.

Breathy pants lingered between them, and the room suddenly felt even smaller, even more swelteringly hot and stuffy. Of all things to ruin the heat of the moment…a fucking ice sculpture.

They looked at each other blankly, as if to say what the hell do we do now?

“Let’s head back up while everyone’s distracted.” It was Harry’s alcohol-induced idea, cooked up in his foggy brain.

“There’s no way we can go back to the party like this.” Y/N gestured between them—the sweaty foreheads, messy hair, skin dotted with hickeys, and most prominently, her boyfriend’s obvious arousal.

Harry sighed, glancing down at himself. “Let’s leave then.”

“What, you wanna swim home?”

Harry frowned, “Huh?”

“We’re on a fucking boat, dumbass.”

Harry looked away from her with wide eyes and burning cheeks. Right…Absently, he thought it was funny how she could go from making out with him against the wall of the bathroom, practically begging for more, to mercilessly making fun of him, all within seconds. His thoughts bled into his expression, a happy smile tugging on his lips as he thought about her and her unparalleled sex appeal and her cute laugh and her mock insults and her more and more.

And just like that, he was laughing. His wild laughter seemed to echo in the small bathroom. Despite their hot rendezvous being rudely interrupted, Y/N swore she could smell the happiness in the room—almost as poignant as the champagne on his breath.

Seconds later, she couldn’t help but join him in happy laughter.

Turns out, the fallen ice sculpture was even more of a hazard than they’d initially realized—so much so that the captain of the yacht demanded an early return to shore and a continuation of the party on land. Many patrons were disappointed by the early end to the yacht cruise, not including the birthday boy himself, who Y/N would be surprised if was still walking at this point.

As they sailed back toward the shore, Harry was nursing yet another flute of champagne while Y/N clung to him in the boat’s interior—half because she wanted to cover his erection from any passerbys, and half because she just really wanted to hold him. He’d also managed to produce a slice of cake on a porcelain plate, which he’d presumably snagged when he left her on the couch to find more alcohol.

“You look cute,” she mused at him while he chewed the forkful of cake she’d just slid into his mouth. She was sideways in his lap, bare feet rested on the arm of an expensive looking couch. She vaguely realized that this area of the boat was probably off limits for guests, but fuck it, she thought, no harm no foul.

“Hm?”

“I said, ‘you look cute.’” Y/N repeated. He really did look cute like that, with his face flushed and hair messy and a tinge of lipstick still lingering on his cheek.

“Oh yeah,” he mumbled with frosting still between his teeth, “I heard you the first time.”

“Oh my god, you’re so annoying. I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back!”

She gathered another forkful of cake and brought it up to his lips, “I just did.”

“Fine then,” He said, “I’ll just toss you overboard. Out of sight, out of mind.”

At that, Y/N gasped. She quickly turned her hand away and brought the cake into her own mouth, licking her lips for extra impact.

“Noooo!” He held her by the hip and dragged her even closer to him, as if she were about to get up and actually go overboard and take the cake with her. “I’m sorry baby, you’re cute, too. So cute. Like, so cute that I can’t believe you like me.”

Like? I think I more than like you.

“I can’t believe it, either.”

The words were on the tip of her tongue, dancing around in the tiny space between their lips like electricity. Harry leaned forward and kissed her tenderly, sucking on her bottom lip as if trying to pull them out of her.

Yet again, they were interrupted. This time by a loud horn blare and the captain’s voice over the intercom. “Land, ho!”

“Finally.” Harry sighed in relief, already trying to stand up from the couch, “Can you take me home now, please.”

“We can’t just leave when the party’s still going! What about Niall?” Y/N pressed her hands against his chest to slow him down.

“Niall won’t remember a damn thing.”

She considered his words. He wasn’t wrong; Niall had already knocked over the ice sculpture, after all.

“Take a left here,”

“Here?”

“Ye—wait, no.” Harry slurred, shaking his head from the passenger seat.

But his girlfriend had already turned the wheel to the left, inevitably sending the car in the wrong direction, again.

“Shit, M’ sorry baby.” he said with a drunken giggle.

“Good lord Harry…”

She threw the car into a random driveway, grumbling as she executed a clumsy K-turn.

She could hear the cranky frown in Harry’s voice as he groaned, “You’re a shit driver.”

“Well you’re a shit navigator!” Y/N looked over and gave him a pointed look. But the look only fell on his droopy, half-open eyes. “Where the fuck do I go?”

A beat of silence passed as Harry’s head lolled around. He hummed a bit, imitating the low rumble of the car’s engine. Finally, he murmured, “Keep goin’ straight.”

“Are you sure?”

He didn’t reply, just turned to look at her with that mischievous drunken smile.

“Aw fuck, no. We passed it up.”

“Harry!” She couldn’t help but laugh. Despite her annoyance, his antics were amusing. “Are you sure you actually know where you live?”

“Of course I know where I live!”

Y/N sped into another middle-of-the-road U-turn, and Harry dramatically fell into her lap with a low yell.

“Slow down, you minx! Gonna get us killed!”

“You’re so dramatic, Harry. If you’d just tell me where the fuck you live!”

“Can’t remember.”

She craned her head up to ceiling, letting her own eyes fall shut as she inhaled her frustration.

“Okay, fine. It’s that blue one over there.” He gestured vaguely to the right, but it was too dark to see the colors of the houses anyways.

Y/N let out her deep breath, “Somehow I don’t believe you.”

His growing smirk gave him away. After only a few seconds, his foggy brain would not allow him to contain his giggles.

“Harry!” she whined. He was always kind of silly and clingy, but the excessive alcohol made him an actual baby. He was still laying in her lap over the center console.

“Why are you like this?”

He pouted, feigning hurt. “Maybe I just wanna spend more time with you.”

Y/N’s fingers loosed on the wheel. She slowed the car to a stop against on of the curbs in the quiet neighborhood, poised under the soft light of a street lamp. Her annoyed expression softened and the familiar urge washed over her—the urge to kiss his cheeks and tell him she loved him and squeeze him tight and never let him go. How could one person be so annoying yet so fucking adorable?

She pushed his hair back (not without thinking about how he would’ve scolded her for messing it up at the beginning of the night when he had been sober, but now he was far too drunk to care) and wrapped an arm around his neck. It was definitely an awkward position and Harry couldn’t have been comfortable like that, but he didn’t seem to mind. He held her arm in both hands and snuggled into her lap as she cooed at him. “Aw, baby. You could’ve just told me.”

“But we’ve only been together for a little bit…and I don’t want ya to get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you, honey. Not even if I wanted to,” she said earnestly, continuing to stroke her fingers gently through his curls.

“Really?”

Now if that wasn’t a hint…this man was even stupider than she thought. In spite of his endearing idiocy, Y/N still could not resist the urge to just love him.

The idea that he could possibly love her back crossed her mind several times, especially in the past few weeks.

But they’d only been officially for a month and a half…was it too soon? Would she scare him off? Was there some unwritten rule of love to wait until they’d at least seen each others’ homes? Although, if she did tell him now, Harry was so drunk he may not even remember. If it went horrifically wrong, maybe she could forget it happened. (No, she definitely would not ever be able to forget if that happened, but the lie comforted her a little nonetheless). But if it went well, she’d be more confident telling him again when he was sober tomorrow. And at last, she didn’t even think she could hold the words in for another second while he was cuddling into her and kissing her arms like a baby kitten.

“I love you, Harry.”

“You do?!”

Suddenly, he seemed alarmingly sober.

“Ugh, yes. How could I not?”

He looked appalled, really. As if the idea of her loving him was absolutely insane. “Well, I annoy you, I kiss you in public, I drink too much, I spend way too much time on my hair, I’m not as handsome as that waiter…”

“And you’re pretty stupid.” Y/N interrupted with her own addition to the growing list.

“Yeah, you’re right. I am pretty dumb…But,” he paused, flipping over in her lap to look her in the eyes, “I did get one thing right.”

“What’s that?” She asked, fondly stroking his gelled hair with trembling hands.

“Falling in love with you.”

And loving him was that easy, as easy as sipping champagne and eating cake and falling overboard. She loved his flamboyance, his confidence, his kindness. She loved his silly tattoos and his bunny teeth and the little scar under his chin and the faint lipstick stain on his cheek. She loved the way they teased each other like children. She loved the way his mouth felt against hers. She loved the way he adored her. And so, she couldn’t help but smile wide.

“Alright, let’s add you’re super cheesy to that list, too…”

thanks for reading! please reblog if you enjoyed <3

feedback is welcomed, encouraged, and highly appreciated!

[crystal-snowing]

hi hello i have many things to say. firstly, AHHHHHHHHHHH CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K BESTIE OMG 🥳💓💞💖💕 secondly, for Le Event (which is super duper awesome btw) i would like to (ahem ahem) make a Request :D there's a line in "guillotine" by jon bellion that says "sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest, just breathe. i will stay so the lantern in your heart won't fade." and if u can yeet that into a hyunjin drabble i will hug u so very lovingly <33333 thirdly, ily :DDD ok bye <3

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn! reader

genre: slight angst, fluff, friends-to-lovers, friends-with-benefits! au, non-idol! au, unestablished relationship?, mutual pining? 

word count: 1.9k 

warnings: slightly suggestive (making out and mentions of fwb relationship) 

a/n: ahahaha this ended up being way longer than i thought it was going to be and i’m not sure if it fits your request hghh i’m sorry but thank you thank you roni !!! ily bestie <3  ⊂( ´ ▽ ` )⊃

You swore to yourself that two weeks ago would be the last night that you fell into this routine, but after opening the door and being faced with soaking wet Hyunjin at your door—all your pent-up resolve crumbled. Despite the water that dripped from his soaked clothes and onto the carpeted floor of the apartment hallway below, when he looked up at you, through the long strands on his brown hair, the passionate look in his eyes was enough to send shivers down your spine. 

Wordlessly you had opened the door a bit wider, allowing him to enter your apartment, before softly closing the door behind him. That was all it took, as he leaned forward, cupping your cheeks with his hands, and he kissed you. No words were exchanged between the two of you; that kiss conveyed everything. His lips burned against your own, your hands immediately finding themselves tangled in his long hair as you both stumbled back and away from the front door. 

This wasn’t his first time over at your apartment, and he was practically an expert now. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped off his shoes and jacket, letting them drop haphazardly to the floor as he moved his hands around your waist for stability. Even though his clothes were damp from the storm outside, his body was hot as he pressed against you, and despite being pulled flush against his chest already, that seemed like too much distance for him as he attempted to pull you even closer. 

Together you stumbled around the apartment as if you were both drunk (perhaps drunk off the feeling of each other), one of his arms holding you by the waist to keep you secure while the other was outstretched to save you both from making a huge mess. Somehow you both managed to make it to the couch in one piece; your back soon pressed into the plush material as he towered over you, breaking the kiss for just a second to look down at you, his face millimeters away from yours as his warm breath fanned over your face. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” your voice came out meek as you panted, looking up into his brown eyes clouded over with lust, pupils blown wide. Your warning seemed to have fallen on deaf ears, and in a fraction of a second, he moved to close the distance between the both of you—his lips colliding with yours once again. This should have been the point where you pushed him away, reaffirming your position that whatever this was happening between the two of you needed to end. 

But as his lips moved against your own, his teeth coming down to nibble against your lower lip, his warm body pressing down on your own, his hands gripping your hips while your own became lost in the messy locks of long hair, you knew that you were addicted to this feeling—the temptation too great for you to stop. And as his hands slipped underneath your shirt, his lips moving to your neck to press searing kisses leading down to your collarbone, you promised yourself that this would be the last time. 

One last night. 

You didn’t expect to find him in your bed the following day, basking in the glow of early morning sun as it streamed through your blinds. His dark hair contrasted greatly with your white sheets, his tan skin warm against your as he haphazardly threw his arm over your own body. Blinking a couple of times and shifting ever-so-slightly not to disturb him, you rubbed your eyes gingerly, taking in the sight of this beautiful man sleeping in front of you. 

Hwang Hyunjin was many things to you. First and foremost, he was your best friend. The one person who seemed to know you better than anyone else in the world and this reason was what made what the two of you shared so delicate. A friendship was a thin line, and after he proposed this arrangement a couple of months prior, you both had crossed the boundary many times since then. One would assume that this was a progression in your relationship; after all, the two of you have been friends for so long that something of this nature was bound to happen—it was only natural for feelings like these to one day bubble to the surface after being suppressed for so long. 

But Hyunjin knew how to toe the line, and while he blurred the line between friends and lovers, he knew better than anyone that by acknowledging what the two of you shared—by putting a name on this relationship past “just friends” would force him to confront the reality that the feelings he harbored for you were past that. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” his voice was rough around the edges, laced with sleep as he lifted his head slightly off of the pillow. You merely groaned in response, adverting your gaze from his piercing gaze and opting to rollover instead. But you couldn’t escape his grasp that easily, his arm snaking around your waist once again and pulling you flush against his chest. He pressed a kiss against your temple, nuzzling his cheek into your neck. 

The sudden burst of affection was surprising, to say the least, as a cold wave of realization crashed over you, shaking you out of your previously sleepy haze. Hyunjin never stayed; every morning, you would wake up to a lukewarm bed, the smell of coffee wafting through the apartment with a single text message on your phone with some lame-ass excuse about why he couldn’t stay. Up until this point, you were beginning to think that it wasn’t in his nature to stay, but as you could feel the warmth radiating off of him and his heart beating rhythmically against your back did you begin to have doubts. 

Sitting up as quickly as you did startled him, as you tugged at the sheets to cover your slightly exposed body, the cold air already finding a way to nip at your skin.

 “What are you still doing here?” 

The question came out harsher than you intended, and you could see his kind eyes falter for a second, the shine and playful gleam in them dimming. You paused, your expression softened. Clearing your throat, you turned away from him, hoping that he couldn’t see the embarrassment radiating off your face, before clarifying your previous question.

“I mean, usually you’re not here when I wake up, that’s all.” 

“Is it bad that I’m still here?” 

At the question, your head whipped back towards him, almost missing the flash of hurt that crossed his handsome features—answering a question with a question, how insightful. With your eyebrows furrowed, you proceeded with caution. Both of you were currently treading in uncharted waters, both entering the vast ocean with two different perspectives and motives hidden from one another. But you were growing tired of this pushing and pulling game—you were exhausted from treading water for this long, and all you wanted was to finally make it to shore. 

“Hyunjin,” your voice came out exasperated as you exhaled, running a hand through your hair, “we both established the rules when we first started this, and it’s only fair that we stick with them.” 

The expression on his face was utterly unreadable, any remnants of sleep completely vanishing from his face. He was wide awake, well as awake as he possibly could be for six in the morning, but the early morning hours didn’t deter his brain from running a mile a minute. Hyunjin was well aware of the two rules you both set upon beginning this arrangement, this was a secret shared only between the two of you, and there were no feelings involved. To abide by those rules, there was a third unspoken rule that he set for himself—never spend the night—and tonight was the first time he ever violated that promise. 

In his defense, he couldn’t help himself. There was just ethereal about you in the early hours of the morning. The way your skin glowed against the paleness of the bedsheets, the way your limbs were entangled with his own, and the warmth that radiated off your body pressed against his. Your scent was intoxicating, the way it enveloped him and stopped all thoughts of even leaving the bed, and for the first time, he felt as if he had no choice but to stay. 

“Well, what if I want to break the rules just once,” he muttered, looking down and fiddling with the white sheet covering the two of you, “what if I want to break the rules for the rest of my life?” 

His voice was barely above a whisper, but in the perfectly silent room, you heard him loud and clear. 

“You can’t just say things like that, especially if you don’t mean them.” 

“And who says I don’t mean it? I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” 

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline as your brain ever-so-slowly attempted to comprehend his confession. 

Hyunjin could feel your piercing gaze resting on his figure, his body growing warm despite his lack of clothing, as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t explain what came over him at that moment; usually, he was much more careful with his words—especially around you, but once he started, he couldn’t stop them from tumbling out. He was willing to stay as long as you wanted him to, staying forever by your side so that the lantern in your heart won’t fade. Instead, he wanted it to burn brightly, illuminating a path to guide him for the rest of life; that way, he could always stay by your side. 

“I know what rules we laid down, but I don’t care. I want to be in a real relationship with you, that includes more than late-night calls and slipping out of your bed every morning so that we don’t get caught,” Hyunjin chuckled slightly, fiddling with the sheets below, “I want to wake up every morning like this, with you asleep in my arms. I hope that isn’t too much to ask. You were always more than just a booty call to me.” 

Once again, you fell into him.

Your body seemed to relax under his arm, your grip on the sheets loosening. His words put you at ease, the restlessness of your mind halting ever-so-slightly with his confession ringing in your ears. As you leaned back, his arm immediately came to wrap around your waist as your body settled into his side, eyes fluttering closed as you listened to the steady beating of his heart—that ultimately lulled you back to sleep. 

You wanted to stay like this forever, sleeping on him and feeling the rhythm of his heart beating only for you inside his chest, breathing the same air as a hopeless couple in love, unsure of what tomorrow will bring and what direction both of your lives will lead. But, as you drifted back to sleep within his warm embrace, you were certain of one thing—Hwang Hyunjin and his love were the only consistencies in your life, and for now, that was the only things that you could ever need.

[weasleypogues]

jealousy is a two way street

request: Hi could I request a young Sirius black imagine where reader and Sirius have a argument blow up infront of the rest of the marauders in the dorm with lots of shouting because they are both to stubborn to admit either of them are wrong. Lots of snide remarks and sarcastic comments (also reader and Sirius are already dating) I love your writing 

thanks so much!! hope u enjoy xxx

finally trying to get back into the groove of writing!! requests are open <3 

masterlist.

“Fuck, Marry, Kill: (Y/N), Emma Cooper, and Allison Wood.” James called off names as the Marauders, Lily, and you sat in a circle in the common room. It was approximately 2:45 AM and after a stop at HoneyDukes, needless to say no one was falling asleep till later or at all for that matter.

“Kill Emma, Fuck Allison and Marry (Y/N) for sure.” Sirius answered without even hesitating. You slightly clenched your jaw and looked at the ground.

“Course.” You muttered under your breath and looked in the opposite direction of Sirius immediately. You mentally cursed James for even bringing up Allison and cured Sirius even more for choosing her. In the past you two had arguments because of Allison whether it be that she was getting too touchy with Sirius and he wasn’t stopping it or constantly talking about her when you two were alone. But why couldn’t he just choose Emma? Was he completely oblivious to the months of constant arguing?

Sirius Black knew how to get under your skin. As much as you loved him as your boyfriend, he could be a dick from time to time and found it hot when you would get frustrated after he would push your buttons. But this time he’d gone a little too far.

“What was that?” Sirius inquired, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“I said ‘Of course”. Of course you would pick Allison instead of the sweet Emma. I knew this game would make me jealous but your dumb fucking answers are making me infuriated.” You replied, feeling like your whole body was on fire.

“Babe, we’ve been over this. She means nothing to me, I’d rather spend the rest of my life with you than be with Allison.”

“First of all, don’t babe me. Second of all, we endured months and months of conflicts because of her. She hates me! I hate her! It’s a two way street and you seem to stick yourself in the middle of it instead of choosing a side. You know how jealous I got when she would put her hand on your leg or on your arm. Run her hand through your hair. Or on date nights when instead of a nice and loving conversation it’s ‘Guess what Alli did today?’ or ‘Alli is actually too funny’.” You said, not taking a breath until the end. All of this anger and emotions that have been bubbling up inside of you were finally released and you didn’t feel any remorse at all.

He opened his mouth to say something but chuckled darkly and shook his head. “I’m not even going to say it.”

“No, say it. Please do. I’m sure we would all love to hear what you have to say.” You spat back, crossing your arms. 

“For months on fucking months during our fights you know who you would constantly go to? James. My best fucking mate. My fucking brother. At points, I felt like you liked him better than you liked me. It made me feel like shit to see you two always having a good fucking laugh. You could have came to me! Yes, there was tension between us but never on earth would I turn you away. We could’ve figured this out a lot quicker and calmer if I didn’t believe you were out shagging my best friend.” Sirius admitted, his face beet red and hair wild. Your jaw dropped and you were at a loss for words. What you were feeling was exactly what he was feeling?

“Sirius I had no-” You started but were soon cut off.

“No idea, yeah I know. If you haven’t noticed I’m an expert at keeping my feelings hidden.” He grumbled. “You know what. I’m done. I gotta go.” And with that he stood up and left the room, walking up the stairs to the dormitory. You immediately stood up and was about to take your first step until a hand held you back.

“Give him some time to cool down. If you speak to him any more he’s only going to get more heated and it won’t help anyone.” Remus spoke softly and gave you a sympathetic smile. 

“Fuck that, I’m going to talk to him.” James bursted out and shoved himself off of the ground and walked up the same stairs Sirius had moments ago.

“I really fucked up this time. If I had just kept my mouth shut.” You mumbled and ran your hand over your face and let that run through your hair. 

“You didn’t fuck up. You were angry and there were still some unspoken feelings between you two. This will get resolved. Sirius is so whipped for you that he wouldn’t do anything to lose you. Trust me.” Lily state simply and gave you a reassuring smile. You let out a shaky breath and nodded before getting up and walking to your dorms. 

“I’ll just let us both sleep on it.” You responded, though you were not completely sure of that.

“Give him a couple of minutes for he and James to sort this out between them. But you don’t want to go to bed angry, that’s not going to work.” Lily said, looking extremely sympathetic. You groaned loudly and let your head roll to the back of the couch.

“Why must you always be right, Lily?” She laughed in response.

“It’s just in my DNA.”

You waited downstairs for another half hour, fiddling with your thumbs and going through mini arguments in your head on what to say to him to clear this up. You heard the creak of the boys dormitory door open and looked up immediately to only see James walking out with his hands in his pockets, looking quite sheepish.

“I told him I’d send you up there.” James stated, taking a seat on the couch next to you. 

“How’d it go with you?” You asked, worry written all over your face.

“Not that badly. He just needs a pair of ears. He may be dramatic but he isn’t the type to want to start yelling at you.” You nodded and with that, lifted from the couch and made your way up the stairs. You chose not to knock but just walk right in to see Sirius sitting on his bed and looking out the window that was next to it. He had his hands folded in his lap and was quiet.

“Sirius...” You said, hoping not to spook him, but in reality you just wanted to soflty grab his attention. Sirius moved his head slightly but still didn’t look directly at you.

“I’m sorry about, you know, everything. I never put myself in your shoes to take in what you must have been feeling when all of that was going down. It’s just that James knows you the best so I thought that he could give me guidance on how to make things right but I never realized how it must’ve looked to you. I really do apologize for that.” You said, still feet away from him, standing with your fingers interlocked with themselves. Sirius finally looked in your direction and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, (Y/N/N). But really I should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have blown up on you down there. I just got jealous and didn’t want to admit I was wrong considering you going to James for advice is way different than Allison heavily flirting with me all the time. It’s hard for me to take blame where it’s deserved and I let my pride get the best of me. But I want to assure you that you’re the only girl I ever want to be with. Allison is Allison and that’s it. You mean the world to me and absolutely no one could ever get in the way of that. Not even my pride.” Sirius responded, worry etched in his furrowed eyebrows and glossy eyes as he slowly made his way towards you and grabbed your interlocked hands. 

You subtly smiled, realizing if you showed anymore emotion that the overwhelming amount of emotions you were feeling right now might make you start crying. You instinctively let your body nuzzle right into his chest and you wrapped your arms around his torso, taking in his warmth and scent. He didn’t hesistate to wrap his arms around you and kiss the top of your head a couple of times. 

Pulling your head away but keeping your arms around his body, you looked up at him and smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Sirius responded with, not hesitating whatsoever. You leaned in for a long kiss and were in each others arms for a few moments longer.

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 10: Grief

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

You take a crack at grieving together. Now this definitely feels like progress. There's much more going on here than meets the eye.

A/N: Hope you're all having a lovely Sunday <3 thank you for reading, i really appreciate you! This is a long, long chapter but I couldn't find a place to break it up.

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Against your better instincts you followed Liu Kang to the first floor of the hotel and into the bar attached to it. The lights were dim inside, a tactic to keep patrons inside longer by losing track of time. The more time they lingered the more money they would spend. You’d gone to a casino with Kung Lao a few times and had completely lost track of time. You and Liu sat at a table near the entrance to the lobby. You watched people as they walked through the lobby while Liu ordered something to eat.

Things were awkward.

You weren’t sure what to say and Liu didn’t seem to, either. It was just him eating while you watched the world pass by in the lobby. You imagined what their lives had to be like, what kind of adventures they were returning from, the sorts of nights they were having. There were happy couples and less than happy couples, tired families, and drunk stragglers.

Then, much to your surprise, Liu filled the silence. That wasn’t something he had often done. You had once been comfortable with silence alongside each other. That was no longer the case. He told you stories about when he’d first gone to the academy, about adventures he’d gone on with Kung Lao. They’d been troublemakers but you’d always known that. Kung Lao had told you some of these same stories but his perspective had been very different. It was comical to hear Liu’s point of view and it had broken the awkwardness.

In fact, the awkwardness was completely forgotten. You laughed when it was appropriate and Liu pushed his empty plate aside. You were grateful that he had broken the ice. Hearing him talk more like his old self made things much easier.

Then you told him stories about trips you’d gone on with Kung Lao. Liu was a rapt and generous audience, commenting in all the right places, laughing when it was expected. Even if he’d already heard the stories from Kung Lao, he acted as though they were new and exciting to him, just as you had done for him.

These had been stories you’d wanted to tell him for years but had been too afraid to be that close to him again. You tended to get closer when you spoke, like two kids sharing intimate secrets. That was often how you’d wound up in each other’s arms when you’d first been sleeping together. Sharing stories had gotten them close and then one thing led to another.

You hadn’t gotten this close since then until now.

And yes, even now, you found yourself getting closer to him as you talked. You were both leaned on the table close to each other. You had your hand on the side of your neck and realized that your body language was a little flirtatious without having meant to. The waiter took the empty plate and asked if you needed anything else. Out of politeness you ordered drinks just for show.

The drinks looked tasty. You wanted to drink it but knew it was a terrible idea. You were with Liu which made it a far worse idea than it would have been otherwise. Especially with everything going on over the last week. It was late too, another strike against you. According to your phone it was past midnight already.

Conversation faded as you sat close together and the mood fell into sadness. You were both thinking the same thing. After talking about Kung Lao for hours how could you not be? Thinking about anything other than how much you missed him and how sad you were would have been unnatural.

“I know that it’s selfish,” you began while fiddling with the edges of the soaked napkin beneath your glass, “but sometimes I wonder if he thought about me in those last moments.” Liu’s gaze turned up from your hand but you avoided his eyes. His eyes were dark and sad, as if he didn’t want you thinking those things. “I hope that he didn’t. I hope…” You drifted off with a sigh. “I honestly don’t know what I hope anymore. I’m so mixed up.”

“Of course he thought about you, Y/N.” He placed his hand over yours to stop you from playing with the napkin. “I know that because I thought about you then. So, of course Lao did.” You furrowed your brow. Why would Liu think of you? He’d lost his brother. All he had to have been thinking about was his grief and what he could do to help. “He loved you.” You inhaled sharply. “And no matter how much we’ve been fighting, Y/N, it kills me to see you heartbroken.” You rolled your eyes and he grasped your hand a bit tighter. “No, really. This has been hard for me. Okay?”

“Okay.” You looked to him so skeptically that he laughed. You knew that it was hard for him but you weren’t sure that the cruel things that he’d said the last few days had anything to do with his difficulty dealing with it.

“I know that I’ve broken something here. I don’t… I don’t know how to fix it.”

You averted your eyes and looked to the drink so close to your hand. Liu followed your gaze and furrowed his brow.

“That won’t fix it either, Y/N.”

“Yeah, that definitely made it worse.” You looked away from the drink.

“I don’t know. At least we’re talking now. We weren’t before that. We were avoiding each other.”

“Maybe you were avoiding me. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“Sure you weren’t.” Liu pulled his hands away from yours and you did too. You’d been holding them for too long without realizing and it seemed you’d both realized it at the same time.

“You have no idea what was going on in my head, Liu.” You tapped your finger on the table as if to tell him, again, that he couldn’t assume what you were thinking.

“Because you were avoiding me so how could I?”

“Like you weren’t avoiding me or something!” You threw the accusation right back at him and much to your surprise, he shrugged.

“I was absolutely avoiding you. I felt guilty. I feel guilty.” He fixed the tense with a roll of his eyes, lips perking up into a smile for only a second.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, Liu.” You folded your arms on the table. “I was avoiding everyone. It didn’t have anything to do with you.” You hated that you could feel his eyes on you, that he had such an intense stare. You could feel the path of his gaze as he looked you over. “I was sad. And tired. Tired of everyone looking at me with pity. It was… look, I know it was bad. I was isolating myself. I wasn’t avoiding anyone in particular, Liu. Sure, it hurt to see you but only because I was sad for you. It wasn’t… like that though.” You felt like you’d said too much and also not enough at the same time. This wasn’t an easy conversation to have.

“I hadn’t considered that.” His voice had softened and he gently placed his hand on your forearm. His hand was warm and comforting, thumb gently brushing against your skin.

“Yeah. That’s what I keep trying to tell you but you won’t listen. Don’t make assumptions, Liu. It hurts me to see you like this, of course, but it wasn’t the reason I didn’t want to see you.” You laughed a little in disbelief. “You’re the only one who could have possibly understood my grief and yet… I didn’t want to diminish yours. Then I finally get the chance and the courage to talk to you and I was… so incredibly wasted that I don’t remember much of it at all. I barely remember you joining me for a drink.” You leaned back in your chair in frustration, folding your arms beneath your chest nervously.

“…you didn’t seem wasted.” He pushed his hair back and then leaned his arm over the back of his chair, turning to face you. He seemed frustrated and you couldn’t rightly blame him for it. You wondered if he had thought that you weren’t drunk, that you would remember what you’d done. Had he thought you’d been crawling into bed together to find solace in each other’s arms? Then you’d run off in a panic. Oh no, you felt like an asshole. Your heart was suddenly racing. You had told him not to assume what you’d been thinking and there you’d been assuming what he’d been thinking. Damn.

You’d made so many mistakes in the last few weeks that it was laughable. You were a tornado, uprooting everything in your path. Damnit, Kung Lao. You closed your eyes and then pinched the bridge of your nose. There was that damn guilt again. It would never end. You were just so sorry for everything. You couldn’t fix anything.

“What are you thinking?”

“That I wish our last conversation hadn’t been a promise to figure things out.” You huffed. That had been the very first sign of the funnel clouds that had started this. That was where you’d started doing damage. “That I had just told him I’d loved him and we would figure it out. Everything would work out. Instead, we fought and it was all left hanging before I had to leave. We barely even said goodbye. I figured that we’d fight about it when I got home and then makeup the way that we always did.” You couldn’t have known. You knew that. It still hurt though. Liu seemed to understand. You were glad that he didn’t belittle you by telling you not to feel the way you felt. You were tired of being told that.

“It’s not like you could have known but… I get it. I didn’t get to say goodbye either. There’s no way to know, Y/N. If we had known then we wouldn’t have let it happen.” Liu looked as though this thought had weighed heavily on him, too. “We would have stopped it.” He leaned against the table again. “I couldn’t stop it.” You placed your hand comfortingly on his shoulder and he stared at his hands. “It replays in my head sometimes.”

“I can’t imagine having that in my head.”

“I’m glad that you don’t, Y/N.” He closed his eyes and you gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze before turning back to the table and admiring the drink once again. It probably didn’t even taste good anymore. Watered down with the ice all melted. Probably wouldn’t even give you a buzz. You’d kill to be drunk instead of feeling as miserable as you were. Much to your surprise, Liu laughed, hands folded neatly beneath his chin.

“What?”

“Kung Lao didn’t tell me that he was planning on proposing.” He laughed again as though this were very funny but you didn’t think it was funny. In fact, you thought it was weird.

“Really?” It was hard to believe. Kung Lao wasn’t exactly good at keeping his excitement to himself and you were sure that he’d had to talk to someone about it or at least get consultation on the kind of ring and the size and all that. It had been a beautiful ring. You didn’t know what had become of it. It wasn’t an expensive looking ring, quite the contrary, but it had been very Kung Lao. That was all that you’d needed. You weren’t the type to care much about jewelry. You barely wore any to begin with. “You did seem pretty surprised when I told you. I thought the two of you talked about everything.”

“We didn’t talk about you. Not like that at least.”

“I’m… well, I guess that’s unexpected? That’s what I mean to say.”

“I think that Kung Lao was afraid of what I would say if we talked too much about you. Either that or he just knew that I was still… the way that I am.” He folded his hands together on the table as if unsure what to do with them. “Kung Lao understood that this… this was complicated.” He gestured to you with just his index finger without turning toward you.

“Oh.” Your stomach sunk into that pit again. You let your fingers nervously play with the napkin again. Had he really been thinking about it all this time? Had he been feeling like this throughout your entire relationship with Kung Lao? Just watching from the sidelines while his best friend got to experience love and happiness while he’d sacrificed any chance with you that he’d had? You had never given yourself that much importance to either one of them but there he was, fixating on something that had happened years ago. It wasn’t so farfetched now that you thought about it. You hadn’t exactly gotten over him either. You thought that you had but this week had proven how untrue that was. You were still heartbroken after all these years.

He grasped your hand and you returned the gentle squeeze he gave it. You expected him to get go but instead he held onto it like he would lose you if he didn’t.

“I wish that he and I had talked about it. That we hadn’t avoided it.” He sighed and you smiled. At least you weren’t the only one who talked that way.

“Do you often dwell on the things you didn’t do, too?” You smiled and he nodded but seemed to think that was obvious. It was but it also felt nice to hear it from someone else. You wondered if that was partially what all your fighting had stemmed from. Maybe Liu Kang was dwelling on his regrets and trying to change some of them. He was doing a piss poor job, you thought. “I think about that kind of thing all the time.” You pulled your hand back from his when he made no move to let go. You leaned back. “I think Kung Lao would have loved it here in Hollywood. I used to make martial artists from his favorite movies out of ink for him to fight all the time. He loved that.”

“I remember.” Liu Kang smiled fondly but he was lost thinking about other things.

“When I went sightseeing earlier, I took pictures of things that I thought he’d want to see. It was… it felt nice.” Liu scooted his chair closer to yours, knee gently pressing against yours.

“Can I see them?”

You pulled the phone out of your pocket and showed him the photos from your day out. Major landmarks you’d visited, random pictures of passersby, movie posters, stars on the Walk of Fame. You scrolled through them, explaining them and why you’d taken them. Then you stopped on the last photo that you’d taken on the beach the day before. You kept that picture on the screen for a time. You could feel the sadness radiating from it. Then it felt like a great weight was set on your shoulders. You were grateful for the pictures of Liu. Even if they weren’t the happiest memories, they were important.

“You’re right, Y/N. He would have liked that.” Liu seemed just as weighed down but he still smiled fondly at you. “That was really sweet of you.” You set the phone down.

“Maybe that’s something I can keep doing. Then maybe it won’t feel like such a… weight. I could honor his memory by doing things that I know he would enjoy rather than being so… sad all the time.” You watched the screen go dim on the phone. “And I am. I’m sad. But maybe I won’t always be. And I know…” You held up your hand to quiet him before he could object because you had heard every mental health mantra in the book by that point. “I know that it’s okay to feel the way that I’m feeling but I also can’t help but think that he wouldn’t want me to be this sad. Even when we were fighting, he tried to make me laugh.” You smiled at the memory.

“Yeah, he’d be furious with me if he saw how upset I’ve made you the past few days.” Liu smirked.

“Yeah. Probably would have smacked you right in the back of the head.”

“Oh, probably way worse than that. If he knew I’d made you cry? Oof…” He laughed at himself. “And I would deserve it but at the same time… we… let so much go for so long. I never felt good about it.” He moistened his lips nervously and you tried not to stare at them. You really did, but it was impossible. “I was never good at being dishonest, Y/N.”

You looked down at your hands and then back at your drink. It would be so much easier to have just gotten drunk and then forgotten this night too. Talking was exhausting. You wanted the courage that liquor brought. You could tell him that he deserved happiness just as much as Kung Lao had. And that you would happily suffer for the rest of your days so that he could have peace and joy.

“If he could see us now.” Your voice felt small and frail.

“He’d smack us both upside the head.”

“And we would deserve it.” You watched the condensation drip on the side of your glass.

“We need to talk.” His voice was somber.

“It does seem to keep coming back to that, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I think you’re right about it though.”

“How so?” You’d said so many things the last few days, you couldn’t remember that specific thing.

“It’s going to be a fight.”

“Well…” You began but then drifted off and laughed, deciding not to say the first thing that came to mind. You had said that earlier, hadn’t you?

“What?”

“I almost started a fight just now.” You turned toward him and he cocked his head curiously.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“No… no, I don’t think that I will.” You brushed your thumb nervously over your other hand. “Because we willfight and we’re in public, Liu. It’s one thing when we’re in the middle of the woods to scream at each other but… another here.” You gestured to the other busy tables surrounding you. The bar was still bustling with people despite the late hour.

“Try me.”

“Umm…” You said in a higher tone and he laughed. “Your temper has been pretty off the wall the last few days. And I have a tremendous amount of self-loathing right now but not enough to actually start a fight in the middle of a busy bar.”

“Well, what if I said that I was feeling pretty in control right now?” Liu Kang offered. Wow, he really wanted you to start that fight. You couldn’t decide if that was impressive or not.

“Okay. I was going to say considering that you… broke my heart with a lie all those years ago and then bottled all that up so you could watch Kung Lao find happiness at the expense of your own that it was… most definitely going to be a fight.” You watched his expression shift and it was almost comical. His lips flattened into a straight line. He leaned back in his chair, arm rested on the back of your chair, fingers tapping against it.

“Yeah. Mmhmm.”

“Still feeling in control?” You winced.

He inhaled sharply and rotated his neck and looked as though it were taking all of his self-control not to say anything.

“See? I told you that I almost started a fight. I tried to give you an out, Liu.”

“Yep.” The emphasis he had on the word was comical. It was clear that he had some thoughts on what you’d said and that it was taking every ounce of his willpower not to act on them.

“You’re mad, huh?”

He nodded. You laughed, resting your elbow on the table and resting your head in your palm.

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.” You batted your eyelashes at him but then looked away. “I’m sorry.”

“No you aren’t.”

“Okay, I’m not. It felt a little nice to give you a taste of your own medicine.” Your smile was forced and fell quickly. “This has been… painful.”

Liu nodded and then leaned next to you against the table. “I wish I could go back. I can’t. I know I can’t. I still keep thinking about it.”

“Do you though, Liu?” You scoffed. He’d made that clear. These ‘what if’ scenarios had become exhausting.

“What would you have done? If I had asked you to stay with me, what would you have done?”

“I don’t know the answer to that, Liu, because that isn’t what happened.”

“But if…”

“I said that I don’t know.” You took his hand and held it on the table with both of yours. “I don’t know, Liu.” When he went to object again, you looked to him seriously. “Stop.”

“I keep kicking myself.”

“Stop, Liu.”

“You don’t get to tell me how to feel just like I don’t get to tell you how to feel.”

“I’m not trying to, Liu. All we have is the here and now. The past is the past. I keep telling myself that too. It’s hard, but it’s been done.” You held his hand comfortingly. “It doesn’t matter that you lied then.”

“Y/N, I…”

“It doesn’t matter that what you said was a lie because it was what I believed to be true.”

“How could you have possibly believed that was all you meant to me?” His frustration radiated off of him. You let go of his hand and turned away. “It was months, Y/N.” Apparently, the past wasn’t the past to Liu Kang. “Months. Not just a handful of nights where we were desperate and lonely. Months and we…”

“Liu, we came here to mourn.” You stiffened up.

“We need to talk.”

“Not in public we don’t. Not now.”

“Then when, Y/N?” His voice rose a little and you snapped your gaze to him but said nothing. “You waited to talk to Kung Lao and…”

“That’s not fair.”

He turned his gaze away from yours and you held your head in your hands, pushing your hair out of your face in frustration. You were so tired of this. Tired of the guilt and frustration. It was killing you.

“We were supposed to be grieving together. Not fighting. That was the deal, remember?”

“Yeah, well I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“You have no idea how badly I want to take both of these drinks, slam them down, and go pass out somewhere instead of having this conversation with you,” you grumbled.

“So, do you just drink all your problems away now?”

“No, but I wish I could drink this away. Would be nice.”

“Is that why I couldn’t tell that you were so wasted that night? Why I didn’t realize you wouldn’t remember if we…”

“Stop, Liu.” You snapped at him and then grabbed his hand again to plead with him. “Stop. Seriously. What are we doing?” He didn’t seem to understand. “We had a nice night for the first time in so long and now we’re picking fights with each other. Why? To feel something? I… Liu, I’m so tired. I can’t do this with you tonight.” He shifted uncomfortably so you let go of his hand.

“Yeah. I guess it’s easier to fight than it is to actually deal with any of it.”

“Is it though?” You joked in that playful high-pitched tone. He chuckled but his smile fell quickly.

“I’m worried about you.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I’m okay.” He assured you.

“Are you though?” There was that sarcasm again.

“Are you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” You hoped that your sarcasm would help cut the tension a little and he laughed, so there was that. You were quiet but not for long. You were afraid of what he’d say to fill the silence so you filled it. “I was thinking that maybe we could… do something nice together at some point for him. Make a list that would honor his memory and then go through it.” You tried to bring the conversation back around. Liu stared at you in surprise. “Obviously, you don’t have to be part of it if you don’t want to be but I thought it would be nice for us to have something to do together that wasn’t so… destructive.” All they really had right now was grief, sex, and fighting.

Liu placed his hand over both of yours and then tilted you to him with his other hand. His thumb brushed over your chin, sending a shiver down your spine. Then he tilted you upwards and much to your surprise, his lips pressed against yours. Your heart shot into your throat and you made to pull your hands back but he grasped them gently. His lips were soft and sweet and while you hesitated, Liu didn’t. You forgot where you were and why you were talking. You forgot that you were supposed to be grieving. It felt to you like it was taking all of his energy not to push the kiss further. His hand cupped your cheek, practically taking up the entire side of your face. It was a nostalgic and terrifying feeling.

You hesitated only for that first second but it was second nature to want to return that kiss. God, it felt nice to be kissed and even nicer that it was Liu. His touch had always been like his arcana, fiery. His lips were a fond but heartbreaking memory. It made your chest ache in both the best and worst way. You shivered all over. His hand tangled in your hair, pushing it away from your face and holding you in the soft, slow, and intimate kiss.

There was no liquor involved this time. No excuse that could be made on behalf of either of them. Liu Kang had kissed you and you had kissed him back. His lips pulled back from yours, but lingered close, close enough that if either of you spoke then you’d be touching again. His breath was hot against your lips, slow and measured and you were afraid to open your eyes, afraid of what he’d say after that.

A few blissful seconds had gone by where you’d forgotten about everything in between your days together and now. His lips weren’t a memory anymore, they were right there, begging to be kissed.

Finally, you opened your eyes when Liu didn’t move or talk. You didn’t look into his eyes, afraid of what you’d find. You looked at his lips, so close, slightly parted. Then your eyes darted to where his hand still rested over yours on the table. You pulled your hand closed into a fist beneath his palm and he gave it a soft squeeze.

It didn’t matter what the guilt was doing and oh boy, there was guilt. Because beyond that, stronger than that, was a deep and desperate longing that you’d bottled up and clung to for years. You had a draw, a connection that was impossible to fight. It seemed increasingly likely that the only reason that connection had thinned was because Liu had lied and retreated.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and you could feel Liu’s eyes on you, his hand still tangled in your hair. You dared to look back up at him against every instinct in your body that told you to pull back and put your foot down.

If he kissed you again then you wouldn’t stop him. You were weak. You knew if you didn’t stop him then one thing would lead to another and you would wind up together and this time there would be no alcohol to blame it on. As much as you had mentally joked about wanting to remember the fun you’d had with him, you knew the guilt would be devastating.

He was thinking it too. Every so often, Liu wore his heart on his sleeve and this was one of those moments. He wanted to kiss you again. He wanted to so badly but he knew what would happen if he did.

Then the bartender was announcing that the establishment would be closing in five minutes. They were to pay their bills and be on their way. Other patrons began to gather their things and get ready to leave.

Liu let you go and you pulled back almost simultaneously. You ran your fingers through your hair to shake it out and then took the bill that the waiter left on your table and shoved some cash at it. You hoped your math had been done well enough. Your brain was just in no mood for numbers. Liu double checked and you would have usually been annoyed but right now you were grateful. He handed you back an extra bill that you’d shoved in there and you would have laughed had your heart not been beating a mile a minute and your hands hadn’t been shaking.

Somehow it was two in the morning. You’d stayed there the whole night. If you hadn’t ended up kissing then you would have been proud of yourselves for having made it through the whole night and several difficult conversations without screaming at each other.

If it wasn’t one then it was the other.

You gathered your jacket and slipped it on your shoulders before walking with Liu into the lobby. You took their time, letting other patrons make their way to the elevators first. He kept looking at you and you kept searching for a way to end the night that didn’t lead with more bad decisions. But he hadn’t said anything either. You needed to say something to either end the night or decide where to go next. If either one of you said something, it was likely that that you would end up arguing. If you could just not mention the kiss it might be fine.

Because if you fought, you’d probably end up kissing him. One led to the other and the other caused the other. It was a vicious cycle.

“Would it be okay to walk you to your room?” He broke the silence, something quite brave all things considered. You considered making him say goodnight before they got in the elevator but then you’d have to take the stairs to avoid him and that would be silly. Besides, what was the harm in it? He’d walk you to your room and you’d be free after those few more awkward moments.

“Sure.” You were surprised you didn’t sound haughty thanks to your nerves. It wasn’t that you were mad at him. You were mad at yourself. Mad that you let him kiss you, mad that you’d returned the kiss, mad that you’d wanted to keep kissing him. Worst of all, you were mad that it had felt so damn good.

The elevator was awkward and silent. Liu leaned against the back wall, arms folded over his chest, eyes on the floor. You slammed the button for your floor about twelve times more than necessary and then stayed close to the grid of buttons. Just a few more minutes and the night would be over.

You were coaching yourself not to let him into your room. Why had you even considered it? You didn’t think that he would ask to come in. If he were smart then he definitely wouldn’t try to push his luck. Then again, Liu Kang had become a very different animal over the last week. He was more impulsive than you were used to him being.

The problem was that if you let him into your room then you would absolutely end up sleeping with him because you wanted to which was one of the most frustrating thoughts you’d ever had.

The doors to the elevator opened and so you led them down the hall toward your room. His was only a few doors down. You had purposely not gotten rooms next to each other but it was still close enough that it wouldn’t be too terribly out of his way. You leaned against the door to your room, holding your keycard against your phone behind your back.

You wouldn’t let him in.

You couldn’t.

“Thanks for spending the evening with me.” Liu looked to the door behind you and then back over you. “And for forgiving me.” The moment was less awkward and Liu didn’t seem like he was going to push you. You were thankful. You could still taste his lips on yours and you’d have that memory for the rest of the night.

“Oh?” You chuckled. “Did I forgive you?”

“Uh…” Liu looked suddenly nervous, his soft smile fading. “I guess that you didn’t.”

“Liu…” You began with a sigh, nervous to start a fight. But you had to talk about these things eventually. “I’m still mad about a lot of the things you’ve said the last few days.”

“And we still have to talk about that.”

“Yeah, look, I understand that you’re sorry but you have also made it clear that you meant much of what you said in the last week so it’s not as simple a thing as forgiving you.”

“Yeah.” He took a step closer and took your free hand. “I understand that. I’m still grateful that you didn’t tell me to shove it the way that you had every right to.” He brought your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of your knuckles. You rolled your eyes so hard that he laughed.

“I know you far too well to think that you’re charming, Liu. Especially after the last few days. Nice try though.” You pulled your hand back from him and he shrugged but he had a grin on his face. That night he’d implied that he thought you’d sought too much solace in drink. That was far from charming. You’d said plenty of unpleasant things to him too. You were on evening footing with lack of charm.

“I am charming, Y/N.”

“Go to bed, you giant dork.” You weren’t opening that door until he’d walked away. You didn’t trust yourself. It would be so easy to invite him inside and take out some of that pent up frustration. You knew he was thinking it too. The way that he lingered, the way that his eyes darted down to your hand where you held your key and back to your eyes. Inviting him in would definitely take care of some of that frustration you both felt at least until tomorrow. Then you’d be even more frustrated. “Goodnight, Liu.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You watched him walk away and then retreated into your room.

Next Chapter >>

[soulwillower]

when richie met y/n • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

prologue

requested: idk if your taking requests rn BUTTTT could you do a richie fic that’s like when harry met sally? if you’ve seen it that is 🌟🌟🌟~🤍

warnings: mentions of sexist stuff, bc richie is a dick, mentions of sex, slander of the name sheldon (sorry), talking about the plot of casablanca but you dont rly have to have seen it lol

ok so i know i havent finished tozier but i just recently rewatched this movie and figured i’d write the prologue for this planed series n post it <3

[losers + reader have just graduated college in this. ]

2.3k words

♡

it’s after graduation '92 when y/n y/l/n first meets richard tozier. 

the trees are turning red and crusting off the tips of branches, the bitter cold of the university whipping around your car even though it's supposed to be nearing the end of spring. you're sitting awkwardly now, with your window cranked down, eyes glued to the couple at the edge of the sidewalk. they're entagled with each other enough that all you can make out is wild dark and curly hair, a sharp jawline, and the girl’s blonde hair gathered in a fist of the mysterious boy. but you'd notice your friend amanda anywhere, even if her back is turned and face occupied with another’s. 

you clear your throat, but they ignore you, the boy whose hands are wrapped around her waist tilting her jaw to kiss her even deeper. "i love you." she whispers. you feel awkward, and roll your eyes. it's still seconds later and so you clear your throat, muttering, "amanda." 

she jumps apart from the boy. "oh, hi y/n. um, y/n, this is richie tozier. richie, this is y/n y/l/n."

you lock eyes with the boy, who's got a smirk on his lips as he wipes his mouth. you watch as amanda's lip gloss rubs off his bright red lips, "nice to meet you, y/n." 

you nod back at him, antsy to start driving and nervous for some reason. "hi. you want to drive the first shift?"

he laughs slightly, shaking his head as his wild dark curls bounce around. he’s devastatingly handsome, and you’re not surprised amanda loves him so much. he pulls his crewneck's sleeves over his hands and shrugs, "no, you're there already, you can start if that works." you nod, slightly put off, but shrugging it off. 

"okay. the back's open." you watch awkwardly as the boy lifts his belongings into the space in your trunk, amanda coming up and hugging his tall, skinny frame. "please call me." she whispers. he nods and you watch from the rearview mirror, "call you as soon as we get there, baby." he says. your friend amanda whines, "oh, please call me from the road. "  the boy, richie, cracks a charming grin, "i'll call you before that."

almost gagging, you turn your attention to the radio and fiddle it, waiting for richie and amanda to finish making out against the back of your car. 

it's awkward once you start driving, richie tapping his long fingers against his knee as you stare at the road ahead of you. you clear your throat, "i have it all figured out. it's an eighteen hour trip, which breaks down into six shifts of three hours each. or, alternatively, we could break it down by mileage-" but while you're speaking, richie's leaning to fiddle around with a bag in the back. you blink, "er, there's a...there's a map on the... visor that i've marked to show the locations so we can change shifts." 

richie barely hums and crunches on something, making you turn to look at him. he lifts his brows, "grapes?"

you lift a brow, "n-no. i don't like to eat between meals." you say, eyes going between him and the road, where he spits out the grape seeds. "alright, y/n. why don't you tell me the story of your life." his sentence makes you do a double-take and you almost laugh. 

 when he sees your bewildered expression, he shrugs, "we've got eighteen hours to kill before we hit new york." 

shaking your head, "the story of my life won't even get us out of chicago." that makes him laugh, a sound that was shockingly unexpected as it cuts through the stale air of your car. a light, excited and shocked laugh that makes you smile as you watch the road, your eyes stealing a glance at the abrupt and disheveled boy lounging in the passenger seat. 

it's four hours later, and richie's convinced you to pull into a small diner on the side of the road. "-you're wrong." you shake your head as you enter the lot. "i'm not wrong, he wants her to leave! that's why he puts her on the plane." richie insists. you shake your head, "no, i don't think she wants to stay."you insist.  richie rolls his eyes at you, "of course she wants to stay. wouldn't you rather be with humphrey bogart than the other guy?"

you shrug, "i don't want to spend the rest of my life in casablanca married to a man who runs a bar. i probably sound very snobbish to you, but i don't.” 

richie looks shocked and annoyed, slamming the car door shut to catch up to you as you walk towards the front doors. "you'd rather be in a passionless marriage." you nod, "well, yeah, and be the first lady of czechoslovakia."

"really? that rather than live with the man you've had the greatest sex of your life with, and just because he owns a bar and that is all he does."

 you glare at him, "ingrid bergman is sensible, okay? that's why she gets on the plane at the end of the movie. she knows better, just like i do." 

as a waitress takes you to a booth, richie hums behind you with amusement laced into his voice. "ohh, okay. okay. i understand now." you look at him, "what?" but he shakes his head. "nothing." "tell me."  "no. forget about it." "forget about what? tell me." you insist.  richie's pushing up his glasses and staring at the menu, grinning. "it's not important." "-just tell me!" you hiss.  richie pushes his menu down and looks at you cockily. "obviously you haven't had great sex yet."

you blink, staring at him in shock. this stranger, who you met hours ago, is telling you that you haven't had good sex yet? you scowl, "yes i have." you snap. 

he laughs, looking at the menu still. "no you haven't."

you accidentally project your next words loudly, "it just so happens that i have had plenty of good sex."

 it goes silent at the diner, all the eyes on you. the waiters and workers stare, the other patrons watching with wide eyes as richie just grins at you. you feel yourself go red with embarrassment. what is it about this kid that gets you so mad?  

richie seems unphased. "well, with who?" he asks. you mutter, "whom." to correct him, and so he folds his hands and tries again, "with whom are you having this fantastic sex?"  "i'm not telling you that."  "fine, don't tell me." richie says with a shrug, reading over the menu once again. you study his face, the light smirk that seems to be plastered onto his lips permanently; the freckles over his cheeks, forehead and nose. something about him makes you feel like you have to prove yourself.  "shel gordon." you say after a moment. 

"shel? sheldon?" he asks, eyes dark blue as they lock with yours. he laughs, "no, no, you didn't have great sex with sheldon."

"fuck you." you spit. he's still chuckling as he says, "no, no. sheldon can do your income taxes. if you need a root canal, sheldon's your man. but humping and pumping is not sheldon's strong suit." you wrinkle your nose at his vulgar language. "it's the name. 'do it to me sheldon, oh, you're an animal 'sheldon.' it doesn't work." he says, moaning loudly and making you red. you swat him and he laughs. 

 you're furious, but the waitress shows up and asks for your orders. "hiya doll, i'll have the number three, please." richie orders. the waitress looks at you. you smile, "i'd like the chef salad please with the oil and vinegar on the side and the apple pie a la mode. but if possible, i'd like the pie heated and i don't want the ice cream on top i want it on the side. and i'd like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it? if not then no ice cream, just whipped cream - but only if it's real. if it's out of a can then nothing."

the waitress looks at you and you can feel richie's eyes on you in the silence following your order. "not even the pie?" she asks, while writing. you shake your head, "no, just the pie, but then not heated.” she looks at you slightly but nods,  "noted, coming right up."

you look at richie, "what?" you ask as he stares at you. he shakes his head, "nothing, nothing. so how come you broke up with this sheldon?" he asks. 

you stare at him, irritated and regretting agreeing to this road trip. "how you know we broke up?" you say. richie grins, "because if you didn't break up, you wouldn't be here with me, you'd be off boning with sheldon the wonder-schlong."  "richie."

the next moment you know you shouldn't have agreed to this is an hour later, back on the road. you can feel richie's eyes burning into your head, so you stop singing.

 "you should probably keep your eyes on the road." you suggest lightly, making the boy crack a smirk. "you're a very attractive person." he says earnestly. you look back down to the map in your hands, "thank you."

"amanda never said how attractive you were." richie says, as if he's just saying whatever he's thinking. "well maybe she doesn't think i'm attractive." you say with a shrug.

 richie hums,"i don't think it's a matter of opinion," you can't help the butterflies in your chest at the compliment. "y'know, like...empirically you're attractive."

you frown, distrustful that richie's being so flirty with his girlfriend's friend. "amanda is my friend." you say. 

richie looks at you with a tilt of the head, "yeah, so?" "-so, you're going with her." "so?"  you scowl, "so you're coming on to me!"

richie's eyebrows shoot up and he looks defensive, "no i wasn't- what?" you're unimpressed, eyes widening and jaw dropping. this boy is full of shit, and the smirk on his face proves it. you don't think you're much of a big fan of this richie kid. 

"can't a man say a woman is attractive without it being a come-on?" he asks with a blindingly charming smile that makes you glare. "-alright, alright, let's just say just for the sake of argument that it was a come-on. what do you want me to do about it? i take it back, okay? i take it back."

you cross your arms, staring out the window. "you can't take it back." richie groans, "why not?" "because it's already out there." "oh god, what are we suppose to do, call the cops? it's already out there!" he yelps, swerving on the road and making you grip your seat. "just let it lie, okay?" you say, annoyed. "great! let it lie. that's my policy. that's what i always say, let it lie." richie mutters, and you shoot him a glance before looking back at the rolling greenery outside the window.  it's quiet for a moment, then, "wanna spend the night at a motel?"

your jaw drops, richie beating you to speaking as he laughs at your reaction. he finds it so funny, but all you do is glare. asshole.  "see what i did? i didn't let it lie." "richie." you say. "i said i wouldn't and i didn't." he adds.  "richie." 

"in fact, i went the other way, i-" you cut richie off, "richie!"  he looks at you, "what?" you shake your head, huffing. "we're just going to be friends, okay?" 

"fine by me. friends, it's the best thing. " he says.

it's silent for ten more minutes, and you almost get to sleep until you're jolted awake by a voice you've been forced to listen two for six hours straight. "-you realize, of course, that we can never be friends."

his words, while irritating beyond belief, do capture your attention. "and why not?" you say. 

he swallows. "what I'm saying is - and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form - is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.”

its silent for a second as you take in the stupidity of his words. "jesus, richie. that's not true, i have a number of men friends and there's no sex involved.”

“no you don't.” he says matter-of-factly. you scowl, "yes i do.”  

“no you don't.”  “yes i do.”  "you only think you do.”

"you're saying i'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?" you sass, rolling your eyes so hard it hurts. richie huffs a short laugh, "no, what i'm saying is they all want to have sex with you." 

you wrinkle your nose. "they do not. that's really disgusting."  "maybe it is, but it’s true." "they do not!" you insist, turning in your seat to stare at him. "do too." your jaw goes slack and you narrow your eyes, "how do you know?"

"because. no man can be friends with a woman he finds attractive - he always wants to have sex with her."

you feel like punching him in the face. "so you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive." you say, feeling disgusted by his sexism. "we- uh, you pretty much wanna nail 'em too."

you groan, "well what if the women don't want to have sex with you?" you say. "well, sure. but it's still ruined because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that’s the end of the story. men are very stupid and painfully simple creatures."

"well i guess we're not going to be friends then." you snap, turning to look back out the window. he's such a fucking douche, you can't believe you're trapped in this car with him for ten more hours. 

"guess not." he mutters.

you sigh, "that's too bad. you're the only person i knew in new york."

you slept for eight of the ten hours left, and when you’re unloading richie's luggage from your car in front of a small apartment, he nudges you slightly. you look up at him as he towers above you, raising a brow. you hate to admit it, but this asshole is awfully cute when he’s not being the devil.  

"thanks for the ride." he says with a soft smile. 

you nod, "yeah, it was... interesting." you say. he smiles, "it was nice knowing you." he offers his hand out to you, and you grip it, his hand warm and rough in yours. "yeah." is all you can say. 

richie steps away, grabbing his things. "well... have a nice life." you say as you get back into the car. 

"you too, y/n." 

© all content belongs to soulwillower 2020. do not modify, repost, or redistribute.

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco  @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11  @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee  @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @diegos-knives @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec