#planning to come mid morning and he suggested going out to dinner!

[permanentreverie]

the audacity of my father wanting to go out to dinner 💀

[goldfades]

CINDERELLA───JOE BURROW

request: "Reader is going out with girlies and dressed sexy that joe almost got mad at reader cuz he doesn’t want reader going out with that dress and suddenly obsessed with boobies and told reader they cant breath in that dress" for @crispppykreme

The dress wasn’t new, but it might as well have been, given how long it had languished at the back of your closet. A slinky little thing, sleek black with a neckline that danced on the edge of scandal and just enough shimmer to catch the light in all the right places. It was the kind of dress that didn’t just suggest confidence—it demanded it.

You were proud of how you looked, admiring yourself in the full-length mirror, twisting slightly to check every angle. The effort had paid off: hair done, makeup sharp, heels that made your legs look miles long. Tonight was about the girlies, a rare night out that wasn’t dinner and wine but cocktails and dancing, the kind of carefree, late-night escapades you hadn’t had in months.

Joe had been fine about it earlier, or at least you thought he had. There was an absentminded “Have fun, baby,” thrown your way when you’d mentioned your plans this morning. But now, as his eyes scanned you from head to toe like he was taking inventory, you could feel the tension radiating off him from across the room.

“You’re really wearing that?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an edge that made you freeze mid-reach for your clutch. You turned slowly, eyebrow raised, trying to read the expression on his face.

“Uh, yeah? What’s wrong with it?” You kept your tone light, playful, even though the way he was looking at you made your skin prickle. Joe wasn’t one to throw around his opinions about your outfits, and honestly, you appreciated that about him. He knew you had your own style, your own vibe. But tonight? Something about tonight had apparently made him forget that.

He stepped closer, his hand running down his face as he let out a slow, deliberate sigh. “It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…” His gaze dropped to your chest, and he gestured vaguely in that direction. “That dress. I mean, are you sure it’s comfortable? They—uh, you—don’t look like you can even breathe in it.”

For a second, you just blinked at him, your brain scrambling to catch up. Then it hit you, and the corner of your mouth twitched despite yourself.

“Oh,” you said, the teasing lilt unmistakable. “That’s what this is about.”

Joe crossed his arms, clearly trying to play it cool, but the flush creeping up his neck betrayed him. “I’m just saying. It’s kind of… tight, don’t you think?”

You couldn't stop the grin spreading across your face, even as Joe tried—and failed—to keep his cool. He was too easy to read, the faint crease between his brows giving him away completely.

“Oh, come on,” you teased, grabbing your clutch and turning back toward the mirror. “You’ve seen me wear tighter.”

“That’s not the point,” he shot back, his voice firmer now, enough to make you glance at him in the mirror. He was standing with his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe like some kind of judgmental Greek statue, all broad shoulders and furrowed brows.

“Then what is the point, Joe?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m getting the vibe that it’s not about how tight this dress is.”

He huffed, running a hand through his hair in that way he always did when he was trying to sort through his words. “The point is,” he said slowly, “you’re going out looking like… like that. And I know exactly how guys are gonna act when they see you.”

You turned around now, giving him your full attention. “Guys? Plural? Is that what this is about?”

“It’s not about guys,” he said quickly, but the words came out too rushed, too defensive. He shifted his weight, unfolding his arms, clearly trying to walk the line between annoyed and reasonable. “It’s about… I don’t know. I just don’t want anyone thinking they can look at you like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, stepping closer, biting back a laugh as you pressed your palm to his chest. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your hand, but you could feel the tension in him.

“Like… like you’re up for grabs or something.” His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away from yours, like saying it out loud embarrassed him.

You blinked, genuinely taken aback for a moment. “Joey,” you said, softening your tone, “you realize that’s not how this works, right? Just because I look good doesn’t mean I’m inviting attention. And even if someone does look—so what? I’m coming home to you.”

His eyes flicked back to yours at that, softening slightly, but his lips pressed into a stubborn line. “Yeah, but you’re mine,” he muttered, the words barely audible but so pointed they hung heavy in the air.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Yours?” you repeated, shaking your head in disbelief. “What, are you going to put a sticker on me that says ‘Property of Joe Burrow’?”

He groaned, his hand raking through his hair again. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Do I?” you shot back, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Because it kinda sounds like you’re saying I can’t wear what I want unless it gets your approval.”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all!” he said quickly, but the way his ears were turning pink made you think he was second-guessing himself.

“Then what?” you asked, crossing your arms now, mirroring his earlier stance. “Because, if you think I’m changing out of this dress just because it makes you nervous, you’ve got another thing coming.”

He stared at you for a moment, his jaw working, clearly torn between frustration and surrender. “It’s not nervous,” he mumbled finally. “It’s just… look, you’re too damn sexy, okay? There. I said it. And I'm not there to make sure nobody thinks they can have you.”

You raised an eyebrow, your grin growing wider. “Ohhh, I see,” you said, dragging out the words. “So, this isn’t about the dress at all. It’s about you being jealous.”

His face scrunched like he wanted to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he settled for muttering, “I’m not jealous.”

“Right,” you said, stepping closer to him again. “Because you’re totally fine with me going out looking like a ‘damn goddess,’ as I’m sure some guy at the bar is going to say.”

Joe groaned again, tipping his head back against the doorframe. “Do you have to do this?”

“Yes,” you said brightly, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Because it’s fun watching you squirm.”

He sighed, his hands finally coming to rest on your hips, pulling you in closer. “I’m serious, though,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter. “You look amazing. Too amazing. And I trust you—I do—but that doesn’t mean I trust every drunk guy who’s gonna see you tonight.”

“I can handle drunk guys,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “And besides, you know I’d never let anyone get too close.”

“I know,” he admitted, resting his forehead against yours. “I just hate the idea of someone thinking they even have a chance.”

“Well, they don’t,” you said simply, smiling up at him. “You’re the only one who gets to peel me out of this dress later.”

His lips twitched into a smirk at that, and you could feel some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “Yeah, you’re damn right I am.”

You grinned, giving him another quick peck on the lips before stepping back. “Now, are you done being dramatic, or do I need to remind you that this is my night out?”

He sighed, letting his arms drop but not stepping back. “Fine,” he said, though his tone still had a hint of reluctance. “But if you’re not home by midnight, I’m calling.”

You laughed, grabbing your Chanel clutch and heading for the door. “Sure, Cinderella. Whatever you say.”

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[bellaxgiornata]

Under the Weather

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Despite the fact that he's coming down with a cold, Matt refuses to heed your advice on staying inside instead of running around Hell's Kitchen in the freezing autumn rain. In the morning, you're left with an even sicker, more stubborn Devil.

Warnings/tags: 18+; Nothing but fluff and a stubborn, flirty Devil

a/n: Yet another little fluffy fic for Mandy's Sweater Weather Challenge by the lovely @she-likesorchids! Can you tell I had to make sure all my boys got a fic? This one was for the prompt "Let's just stay in bed." Feedback is always appreciated!

Finally finished with the after dinner cleanup, you washed your hands in the kitchen sink, the pounding of the rain outside the apartment a persistent backdrop to the evening. As you turned off the faucet and reached over to grab the towel from the nearby hook, you heard the bedroom door slide open. Glancing up from your place at the sink as you dried your hands, you spotted Matt exiting the bedroom dressed in his black suit, his black mask on his head but not yet pulled down over his face. You frowned at the sight of him, eyes focusing back on the windows covered in rainfall as the light from the billboard across the street flooded through them, coating the living room in a dark blue.

Focusing back on Matt, you hung up the towel before you began to make your way through the kitchen towards him. You noticed how he'd stopped mid-step on his way to the stairs leading to the roof access as you walked, his head shifting over his shoulder towards you. 

"Matt," you said, tone lightly chastising. 

It didn’t escape your notice how he'd instantly stiffened at the sound of your voice. You could also tell by the way his shoulders were slightly slumped forward and the faint red tinge visible on his nose that he still felt a bit under the weather. But of course, Matthew being Matthew, he apparently was still planning to go out. You should have known as much.

"Maybe you should stay in tonight," you suggested carefully, eyeing the thin material of his shirt as the rain only continued to dump onto the roof of the apartment. "You know, like we talked about earlier? At dinner?"

He turned fully towards you, straightening his back as his sightless gaze landed on your chest. His eyes narrowed a bit and you knew he was about to pretend the big bad Devil wasn't sick, but the faint sniffle from his stuffed up nose ruined whatever effect he thought he was about to have on you. 

“I’m fine, sweetheart," he told you.

His voice was a little distorted because of the congestion and you scoffed immediately. Crossing your arms over your chest, you quirked a brow at him.

"You're sick, Matt," you pointed out. "You need rest. You said yourself earlier that nothing was going on tonight in Hell’s Kitchen. So stay in and take care of yourself. You'll be no help to anyone in the city if something actually happens and you're even sicker."

Matt shook his head at you, that stubborn expression still on his face. Of course he wasn't going to listen. He was going to ignore what he needed to do for himself for the sake of the people of Hell’s Kitchen, and as much as you loved and admired that about him, he really needed to learn one of these days that he was still only human. He needed to take care of himself. 

But getting that through his head was damn near impossible. 

"I don't get sick," he countered, voice still noticeably off. "I’m completely fine, sweetheart. I'm just going out for a bit to keep an eye on things. You don't need to wait up for me."

“Matt, it’s barely above freezing outside right now!” you exclaimed, throwing a hand towards the living room window. “And it’s raining . Ten degrees less and that would be snow right now! What you're wearing isn't even remotely warm. You’re going to make yourself incredibly sick if you go running around rooftops tonight dressed in that !”

Matt’s lips drew into a devilish smirk, a smug expression overtaking his features. The look might have had the desired effect on you if he hadn’t sniffled loudly yet again, his red nose scrunching up as he did. 

“You like this suit,” he countered.

“No,” you said, holding up a hand as you corrected him. “I like how you look in this suit, Matt. I absolutely hate how little protection it offers for knives, baseball bats, and cold weather. There’s a massive difference.”

“I’ll be just fine,” he assured you.

Matt reached a hand up, pulling his mask down until it covered his face, leaving only his lips and chin visible. The gesture was meant to end the conversation, you were aware of that. Sighing in exasperation, you rolled your eyes at him. You knew damn well he was going to be miserable come morning.

“We all know you’re just going to do what you want anyway,” you grumbled, crossing the rest of the way over towards him. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t need you bleeding out and sick later.”

“I’m not sick,” he countered immediately.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, leaning over to plant a kiss on his cheek, just below the black fabric of his mask. “Sure you’re not, babe. I’ll remember that when you’re clinging to me tomorrow and complaining about how awful you feel.”

You could tell by the way his lips pursed and the fabric had shifted along his face that he was shooting you an irritated look. The corner of your own mouth quirked up into a smirk. You’d seen Matt sick a couple of times before and he was always absolutely desperate for physical comfort–though you figured with his heightened senses, being sick felt a whole lot worse to him. And you figured it probably muted his usual ability to navigate the world as he was used to, especially with a stuffed up nose affecting his sense of smell.

“I do not get clingy ,” he disagreed with obvious distaste.

“Whatever you say, Matty,” you replied, lightly patting him on the arm.

You turned, making your way over towards the leather couch. If Matt was going to run around outside in the equivalent of tissue paper while he was sick, you were going to relax and watch some television while being smart and not��going outside in the freezing autumn rain. 

“I do not get clingy!” he stated again.

Abruptly he turned, storming his way over towards the staircase. You settled into the cushions of the couch with a shake of your head. 

“Alright, you don’t get clingy when you’re sick,” you told him.

As you picked up the television remote from the coffee table, you saw Matt had paused yet again at the sound of your voice. Head turning just over his shoulder, cocked a bit to the side, you didn’t miss the deep frown spreading over his lips.

“You didn’t mean that,” he pointed out, tapping a gloved hand to his ear. “I could hear your heart.”

Rolling your eyes playfully at him, you flashed him a grin before you focused on the television across the room. “Of course I didn’t,” you told him, turning on the TV. “Because you do get clingy when you’re sick.”

Matt rumbled out a noise of frustration, stalking his way up the stairs and towards the roof access without another word. He obviously knew he wasn’t winning this argument with you. You began scanning through the channels, looking for a fall baking show to watch as he pulled the door open, the sound of the rain outside briefly louder until the door closed with a sharp clang after him. Shaking your head again, you finally settled on what you were looking for. 

“You’re going to be so miserable in the morning,” you muttered under your breath, aware he could still hear you.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Something ice cold landed on your bare stomach and your eyes immediately snapped open, the chill pulling you straight from your sleep. A miserable, muffled groan met your ears over the sound of light rain pattering outside as your barely conscious mind tried to quickly piece everything together.

You were in bed with Matt curled up against the back of you. Apparently it was his icy cold hand on your stomach that had woken you. He shifted behind you, his frigid hand on your bare stomach drawing you further towards him just before he buried his face against the back of your neck. You shivered at how cold he felt against you–Matt was usually a furnace who kept you warm.

“Matt, you’re freezing,” you whispered, trying to glance over your shoulder at him.

“I know,” he groaned, pulling himself in tighter to the back of you. “You’re so warm, though.”

You frowned immediately at the thick, congested sound of his voice. He sounded far worse than he had last night. And that was the only thing keeping you from your usual reaction to Matt’s nearly naked body wrapped so tight around yours.

“You’re sick,” you pointed out.

He groaned again, shaking his head against the back of your neck. “Don’t say it,” he begged, his voice almost a whine. "Don't even say it, sweetheart."

Sighing at his plea for you to not rub the consequences of his actions in his face, your hand dropped down to cover the one he had on your stomach. You did your best attempting to warm it up, rubbing your hand back and forth across his large one. Matt hummed out a pleased noise in response, the sound quite nasally.

“Fine, but you’re sick, Matt,” you pointed out. “I need to take your temperature. See what medicine we still have in the apartment for you to take because I might need to run to the store." You paused when he pitifully moaned in protest at that. "And you’re not going into the office to help Foggy with that thing this morning. I’ll call him myself. Him and Karen can handle things on their own. You need rest.”

“Only if you stay with me,” he murmured, his arm tightening around your waist. “You’re so warm and comfortable. Don't want you to go. Let's just stay in bed .”

Clearing your throat, you pitched your voice lower as you grinned and said, “I’m not clingy, sweetheart.”

Matt groaned again, burying his face further into your neck. “ Not funny,” he muttered.

“Maybe to you,” you countered, still grinning, “but I think it’s quite pertinent.” Patting the back of his hand that was holding you firmly to the front of himself, you said, "I need to get up, Matty. Need to call Fog for you and find the thermometer. And check the medicine cabinet to see what we have. Maybe make us both some hot tea while I'm up."

You felt the way he shook his head once again against you, muttering out a noise of disagreement. He began shifting behind you in the bed, soon tossing one of his legs over the top of both of yours. It was so easy to forget how muscular and powerful Matt was sometimes because you were so used to seeing him walking around the apartment in barely anything most of the time, his muscles often on display. But his single leg was solid and heavy , easily trapping you beneath the weight of it as he refused to release his hold on you and let you up.

" Matt !" you laughed out, reaching your hand down to playfully swat his thigh. "I'm trying to help you!"

"No. Don't want it," he muttered, words muffled against your skin. " Mine ," his congested voice nearly purred as he curled possessively around you.

Your eyes widened in surprise, another little laugh falling out of you. That was new. 

"Matt, I at least need to call Fog and get your temperature–you're positively freezing," you told him. "Let me help you. Please?"

He grumbled discontentedly in response, not making any attempt to move. You shifted as best as you could in his restricting embrace, trying to get a look at him.

" Please ?" you tried again, drawing the word out. 

It was a moment before he released a resigned sigh beside your ear, his warm breath brushing over your shoulder a sharp contrast to his cold skin pressed against you. 

"Will you come back to bed after?" he asked. "Stay with me?"

"If that's what you want, I can stay with you for a bit longer this morning," you relented. "But only after I get all of that done."

Matt hummed out a noise of disagreement, shaking his head. "Uh uh," he mumbled. "I'll give you ten minutes."

You laughed once again, unable to help yourself. "Excuse me? You'll give me ten minutes?" you asked him. "What happens if I take longer than that?"

Gradually he drew his thick thigh from off the top of you, his cold hand retreating from your stomach soon after. Your brows briefly furrowed before he gave your ass a light, unexpected smack. Instantly your eyes widened in shock at the gesture. 

"The Devil will bring you back to bed," he warned. 

That familiar dark, gravelly tone of his was hard to miss, even with how congested he sounded. A jolt of something shot through you at his threat, the hair on the back of your neck raising. Matt rumbled out a noise behind you in response to your body's reaction. 

"Better hurry," he teased. "Time is running out, sweetheart."

Tossing the covers off of yourself, you climbed out of bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Though as you headed to the bathroom to check the medicine cabinet and grab the thermometer, you admittedly found yourself curious about what a sick Devil might do to you if you took too long. 

[daisynik7]

Dirty Thirty

Pairing: Kishibe x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

cw: thigh riding, cunnilingus, fingering, spanking, spit play, vaginal sex (doggy, cowgirl), cockwarming, use of pet names (princess and Master)

Word Count: ~5.6k

Summary: An alluring stranger gives you a special treat on the night of your 30th birthday. 

Notes: Kishibe is in his mid 40s. Also, apparently he is 6’4”, so reader is shorter, below 6’. This is very self-indulgent considering my own 30th is in a few days (shout out to all my fellow Pisces babes)! Also, I started this after finishing Chainsaw Man a few weeks ago, so this is a result of heavy Kishibe brainrot.

Additional Note: Check out Part 2 here: After Last Night! Reblogs, likes, and/or comments are appreciated. Thank you for reading!

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

The bass of EDM music reverberates through the speakers at the DJ’s booth. This particular bar you frequent turns into a club at 11 PM. College kids from the university down the street congregate in this establishment on the weekends, like today. You and your friends have been here since an hour ago, drinking and chatting in a booth hidden away to the side of the dancefloor. After dinner, you stopped by for a quick drink. With the booze and vibes just right, you ended up staying. 

Tonight, you celebrate your birthday. It’s the end of an era, really. You’re officially thirty. You’ve been dreading this day for the past few months, sad to bid farewell to your twenties, which wasn’t all that anyways. The number of times your friends reassure you that your thirties are the new twenties only brings you mild comfort. Glancing at the crowd tearing up the dancefloor, you can’t help being envious of their youth. 

Maybe it’s your buzz talking. You’re not one to feel sorry for yourself, especially about something as inevitable as aging. Thirty is young. Who cares if you’re the only one in your inner circle who’s single, unmarried, or childless? There’s no shame in it. You’re sick of women being scrutinized each year they get older for not doing what society tells them they should do. Who the fuck cares if you don’t have a ring on your finger or haven’t popped a baby out your vagina yet? It isn’t on your radar, and that’s perfectly fine. Men don’t get this much shit for remaining bachelors well into their forties or fifties, why should you?

You fidget with the glittery Dirty 30! sash you wear over your little black dress. A shimmering tiara sparkles on top of your head to complete your ensemble. Your friend’s voice in your ear snaps you out of your thoughts. “Hey birthday girl, how’s it going?”

Smiling, you hold your half empty glass up towards the middle. “Good. Thanks so much for coming out to celebrate tonight!” You’re ready to chug the rest of your liquor so you can head to the dancefloor. The other three women in your group cheers, clinking their drinks with yours. 

You’re about to suggest dancing when your friend says, “Shall we call it a night?”

It catches you off guard. The music just started and it’s not even midnight yet. You’re not ready to go back to the real world; it’s your special day until you fall asleep, which you don’t plan to do for a few more hours. You’re silent though, listening as the other girls repeat a similar sentiment. 

“My husband is waiting for me at home, so yes.”

“And my babies have an early morning play date tomorrow!”

Your friend beside you turns to you and asks, “Ready to go?”

Contemplating for a moment, you respond, “I think I might stay, actually. Have another drink or two.”

They stare at you bewildered, surprised you want to be here alone, which is unusual for you. “Are you sure?” they clarify.

“Yeah! Go ahead, I’ll be fine! I’m a big girl now,” you joke, standing up to hug them. They kiss you on the cheek, greeting you one last happy birthday before leaving together to go home to their husbands and children. 

Craving another drink, you abandon your booth to approach the bar. You order your favorite: a vodka cranberry, your comfort cocktail throughout your 20s. A reminder that you’re still the same you despite moving up a decade. 

You close your tab, promising yourself this is your last, and go back to your table. It’s now occupied by an older man in a black coat, sipping on amber liquor. Annoyed, and slightly intrigued, you sit opposite of him in the same booth. He lifts his head up slowly, noticing you. 

“Hi there,” you greet him. Even in the dim light, the stitched scar on his left cheek stands out. The metal piercings on his ears glisten, the strobe lights reflecting off them from the dancefloor. 

“Can I help you?” His voice is low and raspy, either naturally or from the alcohol. 

“I was sitting here earlier. The other tables are all occupied, and I really don’t want to stand around on the dancefloor by myself. Can I sit here until I finish my drink? There’s plenty of room for the both of us.” You put on your most charming smile.

“Where are your friends? I’m sure you’d rather sit with them instead of with an old man like me.”

“They ditched me to go home. Besides, it looks like you could use the company.” You tip your cocktail into your mouth, keeping your gaze on him. 

He watches you, skeptical. “How old are you?”

You glance down at your sash, which is now twisted so that the answer to his question is on your back where he can’t see. You grin at him. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

He hums, unamused. “I’m not keen on hanging out with girls in their 20s. Not really my style. Not tonight, anyways.”

“How old do you think I am?” 

Narrowing his eyes at your tiara, he responds, “You’re wearing a crown, drinking a cranberry vodka at a bar that plays this shit music. I’d say you’re 23.”

This amuses you, like getting asked for your ID does, which is becoming rarer nowadays. It’s flattering.

“Hey, you’re here too. The only difference is that you’re drinking a whiskey,” you tease him, pointing at his glass. 

“In my defense, I finished work nearby and this shitty cesspool was the closest bar I could find.” He takes a swig of his alcohol. “So, am I right?”

Sliding the sash to face him, you answer, “Nope. You’re wrong. Lucky for you, today is my birthday. And I just turned thirty.” 

He cracks a smile at this, giving you a flutter below your belly. You’re not typically into older men; however, this guy has piqued your interest. There’s something about him that is alluring. Exciting. 

“Happy birthday,” he says, swallowing the rest of his whiskey. “Get anything good?” 

“No. But the night’s not over yet.” You’re full-on flirting now, not at all ashamed of how brazen you’re acting. Fuck it. You only turn thirty once, right?

There’s distance between you, but the tension is so thick, you could smell the bold scent of liquor coating his lips. He leans closer, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Well, I guess it’s my responsibility now to give you something good.”

~~~

Minutes later, you’re in the back of the cab, riding towards an address he mutters to the driver. He holds you, interlocking his fingers with yours, peering out his window in silence. You focus on your entwined hands resting on the middle seat, the intimacy of it all distracting you from the fact that you’re about to hook up with this attractive stranger. 

The driver arrives to a swanky apartment complex. Once inside, Kishibe doesn’t give you enough time to marvel at the beautiful interior of the room. In an instant, his lips are on yours, both palms cupping your cheeks assertively. Breath hot and chalky from the mint you saw him savor earlier in the car. It barely masks the lingering taste of that cigarette you witnessed him drag waiting for your ride. He didn’t have the same type of smoker’s breath that you’re sick of from your coworkers. With him, you don’t mind it at all. 

His hand trails down your neck, thumb carefully brushing over a pulse point right below your chin. His skin is rough and calloused compared to yours. The scraggly facial hair scattered along his jaw is scratchy on your cheeks. 

He breaks the kiss, gazing at you while he removes his overcoat, hanging it on the rack in the corner, kicking his shoes off in the process. There’s a small bar cart in the kitchen, where he pours himself a whiskey. At the freezer, he reaches for the ice, dropping three cubes into the dark liquor with a plop. You stand still, observing him, nervous and thrilled about what this mysterious man will do to you tonight.

At the couch, he takes a seat, thighs spread wide, his wrist hanging low between them, gripping the top of the glass with his fingertips. “Come here,” he beckons. 

Removing your heels quickly and abandoning your purse, you step towards him, ready to sit beside him until he demands, “No. Not there.” He pats his thigh with his free hand. “Here.”

Your body trembles with lust as you straddle him, pussy pulsing against his muscular thigh. He studies you, from your hazy stare down to him between your legs, savoring his cold liquor all the while. You gulp loudly, obediently waiting for his next command. 

Gently removing the crown atop your head and tossing it aside, he asks, “What do you want from me, princess? It’s your birthday after all.” Hearing him call you princess gives you a rush you can no longer contain. You start moving on his thigh, riding it to feel the glorious sensations on your clit.

His chuckle vibrates through his chest as you grasp at his collar to hold you steady. “This is what you want? Okay. Take what you need. Come on my thigh. I’ll watch.” His gravelly voice in your ear makes you ride him harder, grinding against him until your creamy mess is soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. You clench his tie, loosening it around his neck. He continues to watch you, sipping on his booze, enjoying his own private show.

Once the glass is empty except for the melting ice, he sets it down on the coffee table, pulling you in closer, his hand behind your neck. Lightly blowing cool, whiskey breath along your lips. You lean forward to kiss him, his tongue slipping past to explore your needy mouth. The longing for his touch on every inch of your body grows stronger by the second as you moan into the kiss, bouncing on his leg. 

“Can you come by yourself? Or do you need my tongue on it? I can lick it up real good if you’ll let me.” His obscene suggestion surprises you, as if you weren’t already performing lewd acts on his lap. You tug at his tie to pull him into another fierce kiss before sitting next to him on the couch, lifting the hem of your dress up to reveal your wet undergarments. 

“I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. But I’m not calling you Daddy,” you tease, spreading wide for him. 

His voice is low in his throat, kneeling on the carpet, face positioned between your thighs. “Good, because I prefer to be called Master.”

You roll your eyes at him, to which he responds, “What? You don’t like that? I bet I’ll have you screaming it all night long.”

This has you speechless as he drifts towards you, staring at the wet spot soaking through your lingerie. “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He hooks his fingers around the fabric, stretching it to the side to expose your sopping cunt. Leaning in closer, he flicks his tongue gently onto your clit, causing you to squirm above him. 

He’s testing the waters, starting slow to gauge your limit. It’s gentle at first, toying with your bud until it’s plump and sensitive. Until your wanton moans are bouncing off the walls of his big, fancy apartment. There’s no doubt that he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s obvious this man has years of experience beyond you. Having this stranger swirl his tongue on the most intimate parts of your body makes you weak in the knees. This is the first time all night that you’re thankful to be turning thirty. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in this apartment, getting wrecked and torn apart by him.

“I’ve always wanted a plaything I can ruin,” he breathes out, finally wrapping his lips around you. “Will you be my pretty plaything tonight?” He surrounds your clit, drawing an erotic whimper from your mouth. 

“Fuck, Kishibe. Yes. Use me as your plaything, fuck.”

He eats you out noisily, emphasizing every wet sound his mouth makes on your swollen bud. Several times, he spits on it, spreading his saliva up and down your pussy, plunging his tongue into your entrance to get it lubricated with his own drool.  

“You’re fucking drenched down here. When’s the last time you let a grown man eat you out like this? I bet you’ve never been with someone like me, huh?”

You shake your head, swiping through his hair, spreading yourself wider for him. “Never.”

“I can tell,” he says, slipping his middle and ring finger into your entrance. “So fucking wet for me. I love it.” He pumps into you, curling his digits just right, resonating all the way down to your toes. His lips latch onto your clit, drinking you up to quench his insatiable thirst. 

“Hold these for me,” he says, guiding your fingers to your panties. “Want to stroke my cock while I eat this gorgeous pussy out.” You hear the unbuckling of his belt, the sound of him shoving his fist into his slacks to jerk off. The vibrations from his moans tickle your skin as he nuzzles himself deeper into your arousal, practically drowning in it, flattening his tongue to smear his warm saliva all over. You whine in ecstasy, heedless of attracting any neighboring attention to your explicit blubbering. 

“Come on my face,” he muffles, too busy lapping up your clit to pull away, fingers pumping in and out of you, shiny and sleek with your slick.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to reach your orgasm, pleasure jolting through your body while he works you until you’re overstimulated, twitching from the euphoria. He laughs softly, face glistening with your essence, taking a seat beside you. You watch him in a daze as he sticks his cum-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. “You want a taste, too?”

You nod, disoriented from your intense climax. He drags your bottom lip down using the pad of his thumb, mumbling, “Open.”

Obediently, you stick your tongue out for him, knowing fully well what he’s about to do. Your pussy throbs again, ready to be fucked for real by this provocative stranger you were so fortunate to meet tonight. 

He grazes your open tongue, then spits in your mouth. “Swallow,” he demands, voice husky with desire. You do, making sure to gulp loudly, incredibly aroused and needy for his cock. 

“Show me,” he whispers, opening his own mouth to mimic you. “Ah.”

You show him your tongue again, a dumb expression on your face while he inspects. Satisfied, he grunts, “Fuck, you’re bad. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” He reaches down to your soaked panties clinging to you. “Take these off.”

He slides out of his trousers, revealing briefs that barely conceal his obvious bulge. As you slip out of your underwear, he removes his, displaying his impressive cock. “You going to ride this cock now?”

Without a word, you nod. You’re already anticipating how fucking amazing he’s going to feel inside you. Your brain is jumbled with naughty thoughts of him taking you in all positions in every room of his apartment. 

There’s a hungry gleam in his eyes as he watches you mount him. You hoist your dress up, stripping it from your body. He unclasps your bra, baring your breasts to him while he still wears his dress shirt and tie. For some reason, you want him to keep it on. Get it nice and dirty with slick and sweat.

You reach behind you to position him at your entrance. Once aligned, you slowly sink onto his cock, allowing yourself a few seconds to adjust to his size. Given his stature, it’s not surprising how big he is, both in length and girth. When you bottom out, he lets out a raspy fuck, holding your ass to squeeze your plush cheeks. “I’m ready whenever you are, princess. Like I said, take what you need from me. Milk me dry. I know you want to.”

Spurred by his provocative encouragement, you ride him, rocking your hips back and forth onto his lap, gripping his cock tight with your wet cunt. Forehead pressed to his, lids closed, jaw hanging open, experiencing the best fuck of your life. With a brief glance, you catch him watching you, a similar dazed expression on his face. You bounce on him faster, his dick pounding into you over and over again, determined to feel every inch you possibly can. 

“Fuck, Kishibe, feels so fucking good,” you moan, directing his fingers down to your clit. “I want to come all over this cock. Make me come, Master.”

Bingo. His eyes widen as soon as it slips from your mouth. It’s the magic word. The trigger. 

Without hesitation, he brushes his thumb ruthlessly onto your swollen bud. “Say it again,” he demands, pressing it hard as he massages it, eyes wild with lust.

“Fuck, make me come, Master. Make me come.” You’re riding him so fucking good, couch creaking, clutching his shoulders tight, his carnal stare locked on your every movement. 

“Tell me when you’re close,” he growls.

“I’m close, I’m close!”

Suddenly, he pulls out, cock covered in your arousal, wet and stiff against his abdomen. Strings of slick cling to the hem of his dress shirt. You’re about ready to yell at him for teasing you. Before you can, he stands up, grabbing your wrist to lead you into the bedroom. His breathing is heavy as he points to the bed, hastily removing his clothes. “On your knees, ass up. I’m going to fuck you so good. Make you squirt all over my fucking sheets.”

The anger immediately subsides and you’re back to being eager again, knowing damn well that he means every fucking word he says. You do as he commands, wiggling your ass to entice him. He chuckles behind you. “I’m sorry for denying you earlier. I just really want to see this ass bounce on my cock like this.” He teases you with his tip, tapping your clit, sliding it along your pussy lips. 

“You’re not forgiven,” you pout, growing impatient. 

Placing a soft kiss on your lower back, he laughs again. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about this stranger you met mere hours ago, it’s that he is a man of his word. 

He guides his cock into you slowly, stretching you little by little until you’re squeezing him, his entire length inside you. “Look at you, sucking me in again like you were made for me.” He starts thrusting, holding you steady to penetrate you deeper. 

“So fucking good!” you cry out, fists bunched on his silky sheets, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. 

“I know, princess. It’s amazing for me too.” His heavy balls slap your damp skin with every brutal thrust of his hips, fucking you hard, dipping into your sweet spot until you’re woozy with pleasure. “You take it so good. So fucking sexy.” He tightens his grip on you, increasing his pace. “So fucking beautiful.��

You throw your ass back, arching your spine to get the perfect angle. With your cheeks bouncing obscenely against his thighs, you beg, “Spank me, Master. Spank me like a bad girl.”

Not wasting a second, his rough palm connects with your ass, the loud smack ringing in your ears. He spanks you again and again, your pussy clenching him tighter while you continue to thrust back onto his cock. You’re about ready to burst, desperate to reach your second orgasm after being denied earlier. You play with your puffy clit, electricity rippling through your body upon contact. Whimpering, you rub your bud faster as he pounds into you, cursing under his breath. 

“Fuck,” he moans, staring at your ass jiggle after each fresh slap he delivers. “Come on my cock, princess. That’s it. Get it creamy. Just like that, fuck.”

Waves of pleasure sweep over you, the intensity of it causing you to tremble before him. In the midst of your climax, you plead for him to finish inside you, greedy for his cum. It doesn’t take long for him to fill you up, staying nestled deep in you as he releases his warm load, letting out a husky fuck.

He pulls out, his warm release leaking from your pussy, dripping onto his sheets. He ogles at the pornographic sight in front of him, pleased with himself.

“Like what you see?” you tease, lowering your torso and relaxing on the bed.

“You are a naughty, naughty girl,” he says, collapsing beside you. “Can’t believe I let you seduce me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault? You were the one who offered to give me something good for my birthday.” 

He raises a brow at you. “Did I succeed?”

You gaze at him, properly examining his appearance. Scruffy facial hair, eyes that are perpetually tired, the striking scar aligned with his frown. You find yourself wondering what his story is; someone this fetching must have a story.  

“Considering the mess we made, I would say you exceeded my expectations.” You lay your palm on his firm chest, his now steady heartbeat lightly thumping against your fingertips.

“I’m glad to hear I wasn’t a disappointment.” He doesn’t take his gaze off you. Normally, you’d be intimidated by such intense eye contact. With him, it’s different. You feel safe. He places his hand on top of yours, rugged thumb gently caressing the skin of your knuckles. The two of you stay like this, enjoying each other’s presence in an easy silence. 

“We can’t do this again,” he mutters, finally looking away from you. He turns onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, your hand still snug under his.

“Why not?” The shift in energy surprises you. This is not the typical pillow talk you’re accustomed too. 

“I’ll keep wanting to see you if we keep this up,” he admits. Although it’s a sweet sentiment, he’s deciding to end it here and now, not even waiting until the morning like in a typical one-night-stand.

Matching his candid demeanor, you ask, “What’s wrong with wanting to see me again?” A strange feeling of unease swells in your chest, anxious for whatever truth he’s about to reveal. 

He takes a breath before explaining, “I’m a Devil Hunter. The best in the world. My job is very dangerous. A young woman like yourself shouldn’t get attached to me. My life is expendable.” He avoids you while he speaks, eyes laser focused on the ceiling, barely blinking. It’s as if he doesn’t want to say it; rather, it’s part of a script, forced to recite the lines like it’s standard procedure. How often has he had to deliver this sober spiel to his ex-lovers? You start to pity him, speculating how detached he must remain to the outside world strictly because of his risky profession. 

You continue to stare at him, letting the information sink it. The air is thick with a serious tension. It’s a sudden switch from the wild romp you just experienced. Choosing not to pester him further, you decide to lighten the mood. You scoot towards him, mouth skimming his ear, muttering, “Well, l didn’t really like you anyways.” The cold metal of his piercings contrast the soft warmth of your lips.

He turns to you again, the tension in his brows easing slowly as he gives you a small smirk. “Oh yeah?”

You nuzzle your nose against his. “Yeah.”

“Good. It’s better this way,” he says, planting a kiss on the forehead. 

Sighing, you ask, “Can I at least spend the night?” 

“Of course. I’ll even cook you breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean a cup of coffee with a splash of whiskey and a couple cigarettes,” you joke. 

He chuckles. “I’ll throw in some eggs for protein, does that work?”

“Sure. I’ll take whatever I can get, since this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.” 

There’s a small smile on his lips as he gazes at you. A minute passes and he reaches for you, grazing your cheek delicately. You feel comfortable in bed with him. Protected. You snuggle into his chest, his arms wrapping you into a bear hug. Cozy in his embrace, you listen to his rhythmic breathing, lulling you to sleep.

~~~

In the morning, you wake up alone, tucked under the covers, clothed only in a dress shirt, barely buttoned. The bedroom door is wide open, the sound of a pan scraping on iron ringing in your ears and the inviting smell of food cooking wafting from the kitchen. 

You spot a pack of baby wipes on the drawer next to you, noticing that your body is fresh and clean, opposite the sticky mess you fell asleep to. Next to it is a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste. With these items in hand, you tip-toe into the bathroom, appreciating his thoughtfulness.  

When you’re done, you study his bedroom for the first time, and probably last. There are no pictures hung anywhere, no personal touch to anything. Only small traces of a man whose entire existence is his job. Several ties scattered on his dresser next to a metal flask. A mini calendar on his nightstand with random scribblings of future work commitments. Hamper in the corner of the room, filled to the brim with white dress shirts, black slacks, and a couple of mismatched argyle socks. You’re slightly tempted to investigate some drawers to see the type of weapons a Devil Hunter of his caliber carries, but you don’t.

You lean against the doorframe, watching him in the kitchen. He’s in a plain white t-shirt with navy-blue pajama pants. As promised, he is cooking a batch of scrambled eggs over the stove, a steaming mug of coffee in one hand, spatula in the other. Looking domestic and sexy as hell. His words replay in your mind. You shouldn’t get attached to someone like me. You almost regret sleeping with him, knowing you’ll miss him after you leave. 

Quietly, you stroll towards him until he notices you. When he does, he takes a sip of coffee and mutters, “Morning, princess.” 

Positioned behind him, you wrap your arms around his waist, raising your heels to place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. It’s only now that you realize how much taller he is than you. “Good morning, handsome. This is a pleasant surprise.”

“I told you I’d cook you breakfast, didn’t I?” He cranes his neck to face you, smirking. 

“You did. I’m pleased to see you keep your promise,” you tell him, resting your cheek on his back. “You’re truly a man of your word. I think that deserves a reward.” You slide your thumbs under the waistband of his pajama bottoms, teasing him. 

“If you tempt me, you won’t be able to taste this delicious meal I prepared for you,” he comments, setting his coffee mug down the counter and turning off the burner. His hand covers yours, maneuvering it over the growing bulge in his pants. 

“Maybe I’m craving something else for breakfast.” You start palming his erection, suddenly hungry for him rather than the food. 

He turns to face you, looking at you up and down in his dress shirt, your legs clenched together to hide your arousal. Still smirking, he says, “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be.” He slowly pushes you against the counter, running his fingers up your inner thigh, spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt. 

You moan, anticipating another round of intense fucking, this time in his kitchen. It makes you want to christen every part of his apartment. 

“How are you this fucking wet for me already?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on your throbbing clit. “You’re so sexy, it’s driving me insane.”

“Kishibe,” you breath out, struggling to steady yourself. “Fuck.”

“I got you. Get on the counter for me, princess. Spread those legs so I can lick that pussy clean.” 

With his hands on your waist guiding you, you hop up, opening wide for him. Knees bent and body folded forward, he starts licking your clit, palming his erection through his pants. You come within minutes, gushing over his tongue as it glides along your slit, nose digging firmly onto your swollen bud. 

“Fuck me, Kishibe. Want that big cock inside me. Want you to fill me up again with your cum.” You hop back down, turning around and lifting the hem of the dress shirt past your ass, ready to get railed right there on the countertop.

“Not like this,” he murmurs, kissing you on the cheek. “Wait for me in my room. We’re going to have breakfast in bed together.”

Minutes later, a tray with a plate full of eggs, toast, and bacon set on top is temporarily forgotten as the two of you fuck on the other side of the bed. Him sitting up, back pressed to the headboard, you riding him until he spills inside you, causing you to orgasm again all over him. 

You slump forward, resting your head on his shoulder, tired and satiated from another amazing fuck. Attempting to slide off him, he kisses you on the lips, his grip firm on your waist, unyielding. “Keep my cock inside you. Can you do that for me?” 

In your blissful state, all you can do is nod, getting comfortable on his lap. He reaches for a slice of bacon on the tray, letting you take the first bites before he finishes it, doing the same for a piece of buttered toast. He feeds you forkfuls of scrambled eggs, using the same utensil for himself. It’s pleasantly intimate for two people who just met. Playing the role of a long-term couple, indulging in simple delights together, like breakfast in bed.

Plate cleared, both your bellies full of nourishment, you stay in this position, kissing each other leisurely, no rush to separate. He whispers your name, fondling your breasts through the fabric of his dress shirt that you’ve made yours. He repeats it a few more times, relishing how it feels on his lips before he never has to utter it again. 

It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s ending as soon as it begun. You have no reason to be so smitten with him. You’re two people who hardly know each other. Still, you find yourself not wanting to say goodbye yet. Something’s there. A tiny spark flickering in the distance. Maybe you’re one of many women he’s done this with before. Maybe you’re nothing special. But in this fleeting moment, you let yourself believe it’s real.

The two of you reluctantly part after an especially long, passionate kiss. You dismount him, grabbing the wipes to clean up the mess that was made earlier. He gives you a smooch on the forehead before getting out of bed to exit the room, returning in less than a minute to hand you your outfit from last night. You briefly recall carelessly discarding it all over his living room floor right before you pounced on him. Is it too soon to consider that a fond memory? It hasn’t even been 24 hours and you’re reminiscing about him already. 

He leaves you alone in the bedroom to change. Before you undress, you bring the sleeves of the shirt to your nose and inhale deeply, memorizing his scent. You almost want to keep this shirt as proof that this happened. That Kishibe is real.

Back in your black dress, you sit at the edge of the bed, waiting for his return. When he walks in, he points at the sash and tiara next to you on the bed. “You’re not going to wear that?”

Shrugging, you respond, “It’s no longer my birthday, so it feels silly wearing it. Just toss it.”

You check your phone, estimating the time of arrival for the ride you requested. Any minute now, they’ll be here, ending your short-lived tryst. He offers to drop you off, but you refuse, not bothering to explain that doing that will result in you dragging him into your own apartment and keeping him a willing hostage for another few hours. It’ll only make it more difficult to not get attached. He doesn’t question it, probably understanding this himself. 

The ping from the app chimes through your phone. You stand up, smiling at him, swinging your purse over your shoulder. “That’s my ride.”

He walks you to the door, waiting for you to strap on your heels. Once they’re on, you smile. “I guess this is it. Thank you for a fun night.”

“Thank you too. This was fun.” It could be wishful thinking, but you hear a waver in his voice. Is he a little bit sad too?

You face the door, ready to turn the knob, when you feel his grip on your wrist. He spins you towards him, kissing you feverishly, his hand caressing your cheek, the other behind your neck. Yearning for one more moment of intimacy with you. He breaks away, resting his forehead against yours, eyes shut as he says goodbye with one last whisper of your name. You avoid his gaze as you exit, walking out of his life.

It’s better this way. 

[miraclewoozi]

i do not give permission for anything posted on this blog to be reposted or translated either here on tumblr, or on any other platform.

minors are not welcome and DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT to read anything posted on this blog.

everything shared here is self indulgent fiction and in no way reflective of how any of these people think, feel or behave in real life.

ODE TO A CONVERSATION ( stuck in your throat ). everything with seungcheol has always been easy. easier than with anyone else, anyway. ( smut. exes to lovers. 6k words. )

ELECTRIC. your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms.  ( smut. fluff + mild angst. friends to something? 6.3k words. )

BURNIN' UP. you really were just trying to enjoy a cool treat by the pool on a hot summer’s day. honest. ( smut. friends who fool around. mean!dom josh. 3.1k words. )

nothing here, yet !

JUST THE TWO OF US? ( prompt drabble. requested. fluff. friends to lovers. 1.1k words. )

BEST BEHAVIOUR. ( prompt drabble. requested. smut. sub!soonyoung. 1.1k words. )

nothing here, yet !

DON'T SWEAT IT. today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — jihoon is forced to notice you. ( fluff + smut. gym crush. strangers to lovers. 18k words. )

VERSACE ON THE FLOOR. or, the time you and your homebody boyfriend* decide to just… not go to your dinner plans. ( fluff. suggestive. est relationship. 2.4k words. )

LEE JIHOON, YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT I.T GUY. (prompt drabble. requested. coworkers to lovers. fluff. 2.3k words.)

nothing here, yet !

nothing here, yet !

UNDER THE COLLAR. your unlucky-in-love best friend goes on a date with someone who, by all accounts, should be his perfect person. so… how exactly do you end up being the one who tucks his sorry, drunk ass into bed? ( fluff. some angst. mildly suggestive. pining. friends to ???. 4.6k words. )

TIL DEATH DO US PART. ( prompt drabble. requested. angst. zombie apocalypse au. TWs : death/blood/body horror. ~900 words. )

[ 22:38 ] ( smut/pwp. 1.5k words. )

NOW YOU SEE ME. you can't say you're surprised that your boyfriend leaps at the thought of throwing some sensory deprivation into the mix of your sex life, but you're maybe a little shocked at just how into it he gets. ( smut. est relationship. blindfolding. 4.5k words. )

NETFLIX AND --? you try everything in your power to try and help your workaholic boyfriend unwind on his night off. you quickly find out that vernon doesn’t know how to just do nothing. ( domestic smut. est relationship. 2.3k words. )

[ 5:55 ] ( smut/pwp. married au. christmas morning. 2k words. )

DO YOU DREAM OF ME? the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome.  or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it.  ( fluff. mild angst. soulmate au. 5 times fic. f2l. 9.6k words. )

HIGH FIDELITY. | PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking one very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time? ( fluff/angst/smut. up and coming rockstar au. miniseries. s2l. est. 38k words. )

DRIVE. or, the night you realise it’s actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place. ( fwb to lovers. angst, smut + fluff. 7.8k words. )

FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE. (prompt drabble. requested. exes to lovers. fluff/smut. 5k words.)

MTL : able to undo your bra with one hand.

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 23: Together

The members have been excited about Yoongi’s return since they heard the news. They’ve been eager to see him and how well he’s doing. Taehyung suggested a welcome home party but the rest of the guys agreed that Yoongi probably wouldn’t want them to make his return a big deal. Still they wanted to do something, so with help from Hyeri, they planned to bring dinner to their place to keep things low key.

Yoongi and Hyeri hit the road early in the morning and made it home by mid-afternoon. When he took his first step inside it was like he stepped into a dream. He’d only been gone 2 months, but he feels like it’s been much longer. The first breath he took filled him with the comfort that can only come from being home. He’s missed his home and the safety his heart feels when he’s there.

Before leaving, Hyeri made sure the entire place was perfect. No dish in the kitchen was out of place, no cushion on the couch unfluffed, not even a speck of dust on the tv. The place looks straight out of a catalog, except the random box sitting on Yoongi’s dresser in the bedroom.

“What’s this?” Yoongi asks approaching the unfamiliar rectangular black box. It looks big enough to hold a bottle of something and he’s trying very hard to remember if this is another hidden drink he had forgotten about.

“Yours,” Hyeri says gesturing for him to open the box.

“Mine?” He questions inspecting the box closer. The last thing he wants upon returning home is to find that Hyeri found another bottle of liquor that he didn’t remember he had.

The box is closed with a latch as if it were a treasure chest. Yoongi flips the latch and slowly opens the box hoping he doesn’t need to drive himself 5 hours back to the cabin because he got triggered 5 minutes after getting home.

However, instead of revealing a bottle of alcohol, the box contains a microphone. A black microphone that shines as if it were covered in diamonds, but isn’t. There’s an intricate holographic design of deep green vines with thorns that spirals up and around the entire microphone and shimmers when held under the light just right. At the bottom is a small heart drawn in the same color and holographic material as the vines.

The heart is very unique to Yoongi. It’s the way Hyeri draws her hearts when she writes to him. Usually in cards and handwritten letters she gives him on special occasions and sometimes for no reason at all. It’s different from the simple heart she uses in her autograph, it’s a heart with one side rounded like a normal heart, but the other side pointed like a triangle. The first time she wrote him something he asked why one half of the heart was rounded and the other pointed. She told him it represented them, Yoongi being the bold and brash pointed side, and Hyeri being the soft and more timid rounded side. Like the yin and yang that is the two of them.

“What is this?” He asks already making plans to never use another microphone again.

“A microphone,” she says shyly. “For you. I had it custom made for you.”

“What?” He asks as if he weren’t staring at the obviously custom piece of equipment in front of him.

“I had it custom made for you. The thorns are like…I don’t know, it’s stupid,” she says getting suddenly embarrassed by her thoughtful gift.

“No it’s not,” he objects. “It’s beautiful.”

“You think so?” She asks unsure. “I just thought a lot about everything we’ve been through. I love you so much, but you’ve caused me so much pain, so…the thorns are kind of like the pain. At the end of it is you, like you’re a rose. The most wonderful thing to me…but you hurt so much. I mean, at the time I thought of the idea that’s what I was feeling. Well I still feel it, but not as much as that time you know?” She’s babbling out of nervousness and she isn’t even sure why.

She came up with the idea one night as she had been thinking about all of the hurt she’d been going through. At the time she was only getting daily text updates from Yoongi but she wasn’t responding to them. He sent his usual text telling her about his day and how his session with Minho went. He told her that the conversation they had made him feel like he needed to apologize to her again for everything he’s put her through. He never stopped apologizing from the start, but this day he mentioned Minho talking to him about how his actions need to match his words and feelings and he got to feeling sorry. He told her he never wanted to hurt her, but he realizes that his actions tell a different story and that he would fully understand if she doesn’t believe him because he hasn’t given her a reason to trust his word anyway.

That was one of the moments Hyeri felt he was making good progress, but it still wasn’t healing her wounds. He was right that his actions didn’t seem like those of someone who truly loves and cares for her, but at the same time her heart can always feel the sincerity in his words. His message gave her the bittersweet feeling that manifested into this microphone design. He’s her beautiful, wonderfully sweet, caring rose who’s hurt her greatly the more she held on to him.

It didn’t take long for Hyeri to turn her idea into a design and find someone that could turn it into a reality. When it was completed she held on to it afraid she had made a mistake and wasted time, money, and energy on this when she still wasn’t sure she would be able to continue their relationship. Her anxiety grew more and more up until she saw him yesterday morning looking like the Yoongi her heart had been longing for. She felt better after their talk, but as they drove the 5 hours back home today she began feeling anxious again. She was worried if he would even like it or understand the meaning or even care. Up until this very moment she had been anxious about how he would react. That all finally melted away when he smiled at her and pulled her into a tight hug.

“I love it,” he says squeezing her tight and kissing the top of her head. “I love it so much.”

“You do?” She asks into his chest seeking an extra layer of reassurance.

“Of course, baby.” He pulls her back and looks down at her big brown eyes. “It’s gorgeous and I’ll never use another mic for the rest of my life,” he chuckles. “Thank you. For this and everything you’ve done. Sometimes I feel like you’re the glue that’s keeping me, us, together. You’re so strong and beautiful and thoughtful.”

“Don’t make me cry, Yoong-ya,” she jokes.

“I mean it.” He gives her a soft kiss against her lips. “You’re the best and I’ll make sure you know it every single day. This is the most beautiful gift I’ve ever gotten. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” she smiles. Their lips meet for another kiss and the anxiety Hyeri had been carrying about this small surprise finally washes away.

For Yoongi this is one of the most thoughtful gifts he’s ever received. Even if she had only given him a drawing on a napkin with the same meaning it still would have been the best for him because it’s not so much about the object as it is about the meaning. It means the world to him and gives him the greatest boost in motivation. He wants to be the best person for her, it’s what a kind, caring soul like her deserves.

The rest of the members have been ecstatic for Yoongi’s return. They’ve planned a great meal with plenty of his favorite cuts of meat, his most loved side dishes, and his favorite dessert: a large embarrassingly decorated cake. They agreed to keep this low key with the at home dinner, but after some discussion the guys found it was almost impossible to greet Yoongi without doing something a little mischievous and extra. It just wouldn’t feel right to them if they didn’t.

Jimin was all too eager to take charge of finding the perfect cake. Not wanting to get a cake that was too obvious and could possibly tip off a baker with a much too suspicious request, he ordered a large cat cake similar to one Yoongi had gotten before for his birthday, but it’s about 3 times larger and is sitting on a larger piece of sheet cake with plenty of room for all 6 members to decorate however they want.

Jimin picked up the cake and the members all met up at his place to give it their special Bangtan touch. Equipped with various cake decorating materials provided by Jin and Jungkook, the 6 of them get to work. Jungkook used purple icing to write “I love you, hyung” on the cake. When Taehyung saw he got a great idea that they should all write “I love you” on the cake. He knows that would be the most embarrassing for Yoongi, though he’d never admit it to them. So that’s what they all did. In the end the cake was covered in expressions of love, many colorful Hobi drawn hearts, other poorly drawn figures by each member, sprinkles, strawberries, and a single tangerine from Jimin’s fridge used to cover up a spot where the icing pen chose to be uncooperative with Namjoon and unleash an explosion of blue icing on a corner of the cake. It’s the perfect amount of chaos to make Yoongi feel at home. They decided they would keep the cake a surprise until the end of the night. When dinner time came, Jimin kept the cake secure in his car while they all carried all of the food for dinner up to Yoongi and Hyeri’s apartment.

Hyeri told Yoongi the guys were coming for dinner so their arrival was no surprise to him. He’d been excited all day wanting to see his brothers. Just like with Hyeri, he’d missed them a lot during his time away, but unlike Hyeri his contact with them was much less frequent. Being openly and enthusiastically affectionate with them isn’t typical for Yoongi, but he almost wanted to run and jump into their arms when he heard the 6 of them come barreling through the door with their arms full of food.

“Hyung!!” Taehyung shouts being the first one inside. He puts the food he was carrying down on the kitchen counter and runs to Yoongi with his big boxy smile painted across his face.

“Taehyung-ah!” Yoongi smiles as he’s pulled tightly into Taehyung’s arms. Before he can say anything else or pull away, Jimin runs up and wraps his arms around Yoongi too.

“I missed you, hyung,” Jimin says.

“I missed you too!” Jungkook shouts adding himself to the group hug.

“Yoongiiiiii!” Hobi shouts wrapping his arms around wherever he can in the mass of 4 bodies.

“Ya!!” Yoongi shouts starting to turn red from embarrassment.

“Yoongi hyung!” Namjoon squeaks as he barrels into the group hug.

“Wait,” Yoongi laughs trying to maintain his footing.

“Yoongi my bro!” Jin shouts. “Did you miss us?” He asks adding himself as the final piece to the big Bangtan hug.

“Yes,” Yoongi responds still laughing his way through this embarrassing show of affection though deep down he loves the comfort his heart feels at the warmth of his family. “You’re going to crush me.”

“Good,” Jungkook laughs.

“We’re going to crush you with our love,” Taehyung teases.

“Yaaaa!” Yoongi protests again.

They all laugh and finally show mercy and release Yoongi from his embarrassment. There’s more planned for later anyway.

They all help getting the food set up on the table while Hyeri gathers drinks for everyone. They all agreed they wouldn’t have alcohol around Yoongi, so Hyeri stocked the fridge with sodas, juices, and teas for everyone before she left to get Yoongi the day before.

It looks like a holiday feast laid out on the table. Everyone digs in and instantly begins catching up on everything going on with them. Talks of solo projects, song features, and variety show appearances makes Yoongi feel like he’s missed a lot in a seemingly short time, but he’s happy to hear that everyone has been accomplishing great things. He’s even more happy once they start discussing group work. All 7 of them are eager to start their next era of music and touring and for the first time they feel like they can truly look forward to it without worries.

Everyone is happy and excited and once they finish their meal Jimin and Taehyung slip away to get the cake out of Jimin’s car. Yoongi noticed them sneak off, but Hyeri and the rest of the guys kept him distracted before he could question anything. When the pair return they carry the cake in singing “Happy health” to the tune of happy birthday.

“What…?” Yoongi asks as everyone else joins in and sings along. He notices the cake Jimin and Tae are carrying in and his cheeks immediately flush red.

“Our beloved Yoongi, happy health to you!” Everyone sings crowding around the table to see his reaction to their heavily decorated masterpiece.

“Why did you bring a cake?” Yoongi asks in embarrassment. “You didn’t have to bring a cake,” he smiles reading the words of love written all around the cat cake. “Guys…”

“Of course we had to,” Hobi laughs.

“What else did you expect from us?” Jimin giggles.

“Guys,” Yoongi repeats. He’s suddenly hit with a wave of emotions as a montage of his memories with the members flashes before his eyes. Each sloppily drawn “I love you” on the cake brings more tears to his eyes. “Isn’t this too much?” He chuckles trying to mask a sniffle.

“No,” Jimin smiles. “I don’t think it’s enough.”

“Stop,” Yoongi says trying to fight the tears.

“We love you, hyung,” Namjoon says.

Namjoon’s soft and rare show of affection finally breaks Yoongi. He buries his head in his hands and begins sobbing. The overwhelming amount of love he’s received from the 7 people he knows he hurt the most is just too much to fathom. He feels they should have given up on him a long time ago, but here they are celebrating his new beginning and showing him so much love. His shoulders bounce as he sobs even harder.

“I love you guys,” Yoongi sobs. “I’m so happy to have you all in my life. I’m…fuck why do you always do this to me?” He jokes.

“Because we love you,” Jungkook smiles wiping his own tears with his shirt sleeve.

“Stop it,” Yoongi laughs through the knot in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he says breaking his smile briefly then quickly lightening his tone. “You guys mean so much to me, I just…”

“It’s ok,” Taehyung says. “We’re family. We’ll always be here for you through the good and bad.”

Taehyung’s words draws tears from all of them, whether they were already crying or not. Yoongi feels so unworthy of the amount of love they give him, but each member can think of numerous times where Yoongi was there for them when they thought no one else was. It’s a touching moment that has all of them crying tears. Not tears of sadness and not even tears of joy. They’re all crying tears of love. Pure unfiltered love.

[starchildren220]

Phoenix Chapter Four

♡

Phoenix Masterlist

♡

Homelander x OC

Black Noir x OC

Soldier Boy x OC

♡

In the morning you woke up to an empty bed, you frown and sit up. You only had a bra, so you went to find some other clothes. You take off the old bra and put on a similar white bra. You grab a black tank top and white panties, putting them on before going to the kitchen.

In the kitchen there was food and a note on the counter.

'Really sorry. Got called out for a mission. -Noir'

You smiled softly, relieved he didn't plan on just fucking and leaving. You grab the plate of bacon, pancakes, and some fruits. You sit on the couch grabbing the remote to the TV, putting on a movie.

♡

You were almost done with the movie when you heard a knock on the door before the door opened. Quickly you grab a blanket and covered yourself.

Footsteps were heard and you looked through the wall, it was Homelander. He rounded the doorway with a fake smile, and his hands held together behind his back.

"You ever heard of knocking?" You ask a little annoyed before making some sweatpants on your legs.

"Doesn't matter if I have, I can do whatever the fuck I want." You guessed he was still crabby from his lose the night before. He looked around the room noticing the note on the counter because of the open living room.

"What's this?" He grabbed it before you quickly got it from his hands. When it disappeared, he turned to you. "You and Noir huh?." He smirked and a blush burned on your cheeks.

"That's none of your business." He chuckled.

"It is when it could affect MY team." The skin around his eyes wrinkled with the forced smile.

“What did you come here for?” You ask crossing your arms and leaning back into the couch.

“Stan wants me to get you ready for your debut and get you out of this apartment so the decorators can do their job.” He was very annoyed with the request and it wasn't hard to tell. "First you have costume." He turned and started to walk out, when he got the hallway he stopped and turned to look at you.

You were still on the couch. "You coming?" He asked his annoyance becoming noticeable. You roll your eyes and push yourself off the couch. You walk over to him and he continued taking you to where you needed to be.

♡

Homelander took you to an office, there was a blonde woman, a brownish redhead, a woman with black hair and glasses and two other men.

“There she is.” The redhead smiled nervously. “Hi I’m Ashley. This is Seth,” She gestured to the black guy sitting on the couch. “and this is Evan,” She gesture to the white guy next to Seth. “this is Isadora,” She gestured to the black haired woman. “and Madelyn Stillwell.” Ashley introduced everyone in the room. You waved and gave a weak smile.

“Please, sit.” Stillwell suggested, you listened and Homelander stood behind the chair, hands holding the back of it.

“Your polling is going amazing after the video of you at that dinner, we’re so happy to be in charge of your introduction to the world.” She smiled, you felt her insincerity but didn’t say anything. “I’m going to hand it over to Seth and Evan.” She gestured to the two men on the couch opposite of her. You followed her hand with your eyes and looked over at them.

“So we were thinking, a nobody, someone no one knows, then out of the shadows, a hero, someone who stepped up when needed, someone reborn into…” Isadora stood up to the cloaked thing behind the couch. “Phoenix!” She pulled the cloak off revealing a maroon body suit with a gold cloth belt that had a gold phoenix clip to hold the excess, the top had a gold phoenix on the front, the wings formed into off the shoulder sleeves, it had golden gloves that went to the mid biceps, and golden knee high wedge boots. It also had a maroon headpiece, it fell into a point on the forehead and it curved over the cheeks.

the outfit

Your eyes widened. “Wow.” You couldn’t think of anything else to say, though it wasn’t in an expression of excitement, rather it was shock. “It’s something.”

“What? It’s amazing. Do you not like it?” Ashley asked.

“Uhm,” You looked at the suit before looking at Ashley. “I don’t really wear stuff that skin tight.” Your upper lip turned up ever so slightly.

“Well you do now.” Homelander added, giving your shoulders a pat. You look at Stilwell, trying to see if the true answer was yes.

“He’s right, if you want to be a part of the Seven that’s your costume.” She confirmed. Homelander seemed to puff up a little, his pride swelling at being right, especially having Madelyn being the one to confirm him to be right. You noticed the change in Homelander’s emotions.

You sighed, contemplating whether or not you should do it. You nodded, accepting that your dream was much more important than your comfortability. “Fine.” She reluctantly agreed. Stillwell smiled, cupping her hands together.

“Perfect, now it’s time for fitting.” She gestured for you to go get the suit.

“No need.” You waved her off, not really wanted to try it on. “I’ll be able to make it fit.” After your refusal you felt gloved hands on your shoulders and hot breath against your ear.

“She said it was time for fitting, so get into your costume, now.” He snarled into your ear. Causing you to shiver, goosebumps appearing on your skin. You shrugged him off, and he smirked standing back up to his full height, hands clasped behind his back, as you stood up from the seat.

“Whatever.” You knew you could easily beat him but he was still scary when upset. “Is there a bathroom around?” You asked Stillwell.

“Yes.” She lifted her hand and pointed to a door in the corner of the room. “Through there.” She nodded at the door.

You nodded curtly and you grabbed the mannequin taking it to the bathroom. You sighed and stripped your shirt and pants off, then you removed the costume from the mannequin. Not feeling like struggling to shove your body into the costume you just made it appear on your skin, fixing the parts that fit weird. You grabbed the now naked mannequin and brought it back out with you to the room.

“You look amazing.” Ashley praised. “You look like a true hero.”

“Sure don’t feel like one.” Your mouth flattened into a line and you placed the mannequin down, standing awkwardly in the doorway of the bathroom. “And I have to wear this all the time?”

“That’s correct.” Homelander answered his pearly fake smile back on display. “You look like a doll.” He ‘complimented’.

You rolled her eyes. “Thanks.” You replied sarcastically. You crossed your arm over your chest, making sure not to push them up any further than the costume already did. “What’s next on the list?” Homelander chuckled and walked up next to her.

“Well now, now we have contract isn’t that right?” He turned to look at Stilwell. She smiled and nodded.

“Yes, that’s quite right.” She stood up from the couch and went to her desk, motioning to the seat in front of her for you to join. You walked over and sat down, scooting the chair in and crossing your legs. “It’s really a simple contract,” She shook her head for emphasis. “just about owning merchandise and the brand ‘Phoenix’.” She gave the biggest fake smile. You could feel the insincerity behind it.

“You’re lying, in the contract there’s a clause that talks about how I’ll work for you for at least twenty-five years unless death or i get fired.” She argued.

“But you haven’t even read it.” She shook her head still smiling but her expression was confused.

“But I read your mind, unless you take that out, and anything like it, I’m not signing that.” You tossed the pen on the paper, it rolling slightly after. Stilwell sat back in her chair chuckling.

“I’m sorry, but it’s a contract that all our hero’s in the seven has signed, why would we change it for you?” She chuckled dryly, using an authoritative voice.

“Well, wasn’t I, approached by you guys to be in the seven? I think we can work something out, just talk to the big boss.” You smiled slimily back, using the voice she used on you. Stilwell’s jaw opened as she sucked her teeth.

“I’ll talk to Mr. Edgar.” She smiled sickly. “You’re dismissed.”She waved you away, annoyed. You stood up from the seat and left, Homelander followed behind her.

♡

[wyattjohnston]

need a little company - nick blankenburg

summary: morgan hasn't seen nick in years and her strongest memories of him are the crush he had on her in college. when he gets signed to columbus after years apart, morgan realises that maybe she should have given him a chance.

chapter word count: 4.8k

last < table of contents > next

In a moment of peak doom and gloom, Morgan wished she was at work.

The snowstorm outside was what she’d expected to wake up to; what she hadn’t expected was for her bedside lamp to produce zero light or for her house to be significantly colder than any other morning that month.

She used the last of her hot water to take a shower and then sat on her couch, pretending that she was a good Midwesterner and not affected by a little snow, and hoped that she got a good update on when her power would be back on.

As the morning got later and later, Morgan started to feel a spike of panic—the estimated time for the power being fixed was pushed back every half an hour until it was clear she wouldn’t be seeing light for at least another day, and the window for sorting out where she was going was narrowing.

She needed to get hold of Nick before he left for the airport.

It was becoming a little frightening how quickly Nick answered her calls. They were in their mid-20s, so it wasn’t weird for either of them to have their phone on them at all times. Morgan just usually waited until it rang a few times before answering.

Nick answered on the first ring every time without fail.

“Miss me already?” he asked in lieu of a proper greeting.

Morgan did, truthfully, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m about to ask you something a little wild.”

“I’m listening.”

“So… the storms have, uh, they’ve taken out my power?” she said—asked—cautiously, unsure of how to even approach her wild idea without just blurting it out. “And—I was wondering if I could maybe stay at your place while you’re at home for Christmas.”

Just as quickly as he’d answered the phone, Nick said, “Come to Michigan with me.”

“That’s an even worse idea now than it was last week,” Morgan scoffed, glaring at the flickering shadows created by her candles.

“Why?”

“Because you’re leaving this afternoon. It’s Christmas, and there’s no way there’s any plane tickets left.”

“It’s a four-hour drive. I can’t, but if you don’t mind driving in the storm, we can leave whenever you’re ready, and be there before dinner. I’ll try to get you a ticket right now, though. I’ll call you back.”

“Nick—if you don’t want me staying in your house without you—”

“I don’t want you spending Christmas by yourself. I want to spend Christmas with you, Mo. Can I sort this out and call you back?”

Morgan relented, even if only because she had no clue how else to respond. She waited for him to call back, not knowing if the flight or the drive would be worse for her self-control.

None of it worried her too much from a work perspective, as she used half of her generous PTO to take a break over Christmas when nobody else in the company wanted it.

From a personal perspective… spending Christmas at Nick’s family home with Nick’s family was one of the more daunting things she could think of doing.

Her phone rang after an hour of silence. She’d been preparing herself for a total reversal of his suggestion and was trying to plan how she was going to keep warm until her power was back on.

“We’re going to have to drive,” he told her, sounding a little harried and out of breath. “So, if you can pack enough for four days and walk to mine as quick as you can, we can leave as soon as you get here.”

“Nick… Just get on the plane, I’ll be fine here,” she insisted, hating that he was changing all of his plans at the very last minute just because the universe and the weather hated her.

“No can do. I already told my mom you were coming, and she’s preparing Katrina’s old bedroom as we speak.”

“You can’t use your mom against me.”

“It’s working, though. Isn’t it?”

Morgan huffed, stared out the window at the ongoing storm and bounced on the spot for a moment as she thought over the idea, over Karin expecting her, and finally said, “I need to pack.”

She rushed through packing enough for four nights, including something nice for Christmas Day when Nick made out that it was an all-out, extended family affair that had Morgan returning back to the idea of just staying in her frozen house. She managed, though, and packed far too much for what was essentially a long weekend and met Nick in his garage where he was waiting at his car with a smile even bigger than she was used to.

Relief coursed through her when she saw that his car was still a very sensible Toyota and not an expensive luxury car that he expected her to drive without warning—she hadn’t even realised that was a possibility until she was there.

Nick started talking instantly, setting up the route on Google Maps and hitting play on Spotify. Morgan was actually quite distracted by the CarPlay screen that took up the centre of the console because her car interior had to be pulled apart to plug in an aux cord. The four-hour estimated travel time stared back at Morgan, the longest drive she’d done since driving to Columbus, and she took a steadying breath. Being in a car with Nick for that long was going to be the hardest part of the entire trip.

“So, my mom has set up Katrina’s room for you, and Nolan will be staying in Alex’s room.”

“Nolan?” Morgan clarified, even though she knew it would be Moyle. “Does your family just take in strays?”

“My mom can’t say no to feeding somebody, you know that.”

She did know. Intimately. While she had never been one to focus on her weight, the lack of running in her life combined with the increase in hearty food was making her aware of the scales for the first time in a long time. She would never decline a home cooked meal, though, so it wasn’t worrying her too much.

Nick gave her a quick rundown of his extended family, as well as some extra information about his siblings. Morgan tried to commit it all to memory as best she could, even if she knew she would forget it the second she was faced with an actual person to put to a name.

Two hours into their drive, when they were nearing Toledo, Nick asked, “Do you want to stop for a bit?”

Morgan’s brow furrowed as she looked at their estimated arrival time of just after two. They hadn’t stopped yet, and she wasn’t mad at the idea of driving without a break if it meant getting there sooner.

“I could use a stretch, and I think your knee could, too.”

It wasn’t until Nick pointed it out that she realised she’d been rubbing at her sore knee and couldn’t say how long she’d been doing it.

“Can we stop somewhere I can buy presents?” she suggested, not ready to admit that it was to give her knee a break. Nick wasn’t stupid enough to miss the deflection.

It wasn’t until they were inside a shopping mall that Nick asked who she wanted to buy presents for.

Incredulously, Morgan’s eyes widened, and she scrambled to remember the list she’d been creating in the car, “Your dad? Your siblings? Moyle?”

“Nothing for my mom?” he asked, teasing, and pointing into the Yankee Candle store they were walking past.

Morgan directed him away with a hand on his forearm. It was a very nice forearm, even through his thick sweater. That wasn’t something she had ever thought about.

“I already bought her something when I thought she might still be in Columbus. I was going to run it over to you before you left for your flight.”

She would have had to see him anyway to give him his present to open on Christmas Day. She wasn’t even sure he realised she had something for him tucked away in her bag.

“Nobody is expecting presents,” he assured her, still being easily moved in any direction she led him.

“Sure,” Morgan nodded in agreement, only to immediately continue, “but I can’t just hand one to your mom and not get anything for anyone else. That’s so rude.”

Nick conceded and agreed to help her find something small for his family, only if she promised to not buy anything for Nolan who, he assured her, would not have taken the time to get her anything. That at least made sense to Morgan—nobody had known she was even coming until that morning.

Morgan had never had a more rushed shopping experience—and the only person rushing her was herself. They did manage to get out with presents for Karl, Alex and Katrina. Morgan hoped they were worth it. Even in her haste she made sure to buy something nice, something usable, something they would want. Nick wasn’t always very believable when he was trying to assure her she wasn’t just buying garbage. She didn’t think he was as bad a liar as she was; maybe she was wrong about it.

Walking around and stretching meant that Morgan made it through the rest of the drive without too much pain. There was some ibuprofen in her future regardless.

Karin greeted them when they arrived, Morgan melting into the hug because she missed them even after less than two weeks since her last. Karin didn’t seem bothered by the length of it. Her hug with Nick was just as long, anyway.

Between the three of them—two, really, with Nick on crutches—they managed to bring in everything packed into the Toyota and carry it up to the second floor and the bedrooms. Morgan’s bags were dropped into what she assumed had been Katrina’s childhood bedroom, but she didn’t stay there for very long before she wandered back down the hall to Nick’s room.

“Karl will be home soon, and we’ll have some dinner,” Karin said as they passed each other in the hall.

Morgan knocked on the doorframe to the room Karin had walked out of and tilted her head around the corner when Nick acknowledged her. He was simultaneously packing and unpacking, switching out clothes that he’d brought back from Columbus for things still in his drawers, his bad leg kneeling on a chair that looked like it belonged in the dining room. Morgan sat down on the end of his bed to watch.

Nick looked between her and the door, his cheeks brightening suddenly, and he stumbled over his words, “If we’re in a room together—or if you’re in a room with Nolan—or I guess the three of us together—the door—she knows we’re adults it’s just—a married thing and—”

“It’s fine,” Morgan said slowly with her head tilted. “Doors open. Pretty standard.”

With still red cheeks, Nick’s shoulders fell, and he mumbled, “Feels a bit like we’re in high school.”

Morgan hummed, it did feel a bit unnecessary when they were in their mid-20s and, more importantly, not in a relationship. Them not being in a relationship, though, was all the more reason to let it slide. She had nothing to hide.

A thought crossed her mind, and she couldn’t help but tease, “You bring a lot of girls home in high school?”

“We had, ya know,” Nick mumbled, again, his cheeks growing impossibly redder, “assignments and stuff.”

“Some biology? Human anatomy?” she prodded, leaning forward.

Nick’s head shook, a nervous laugh bubbling out of his mouth, “My mom would have had my head if I’d pulled that.”

“You must have gone wild when you were shipped off to Alberta.” Morgan leant forward so excitedly that she nearly face planted off the bed. “And then to college? Nicholas Blankenburg, have you been holding out on me?”

His laughter stopped, and the mood in the room turned sombre rather abruptly. Morgan sat up straighter, worried about what she’d done to cause the sudden change.

“Was too busy pining over you in college to go wild.”

Morgan’s breath hitched. “You didn’t pine over me for four years.”

“Not four, no.”

Nick smiled gently as he spoke, the eye contact he was making with her, earnest and intense, had Morgan shifting with nervous energy.

“When is Nolan getting here?” she asked, deflecting.

“Right now!”

Morgan’s head snapped to the door at the loud, new voice. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Nolan who had shouted at them. He walked into the room with his arms held wide and made a beeline for Nick. Morgan couldn’t help but feel like she was interrupting something when they hugged each other, speaking to each other in low, excited voices, so she took to looking around Nick’s unexpectedly bare room.

She’d expected more trophies, more jerseys, more proof that he’d played hockey his entire life. There were a few things, some posters and hockey sticks—

“Mo!”

Morgan looked forward to Nolan standing directly in front of her, his arms stretched just as wide as they had been for Nick. She rose to her feet and was immediately swept into a hug as if she was a long-lost friend and not just someone who, for two years, had been in the same, very expanded group.

Regardless, she greeted him happily and warmly. It was a hockey boy thing she’d never forgotten, that they all very much treated everybody they liked as if they were family. Nick’s easy acceptance in her life had been proof enough, but Nolan dropping down onto the bed beside her and starting up his own teasing of Nick did a good job at solidifying it.

Morgan didn’t even think as she followed Nick up the staircase—it was just the two of them, Nolan nowhere to be seen. She stretched out on Nick’s bed after switching on his bedside lamp to light the room, watching as he hobbled around the room, hanging up his coat and removing his tie. The movement was getting smoother, without a doubt, but there was still a noticeable caution.

“Your family is really great,” she whispered. “You’re so lucky to have them.”

She held her breath as he laid on the bed beside her and ignored the swoop in her stomach as he faced her and put his hands under his cheek on the pillow.

“Can I ask why you don’t talk to yours? I guessed it was pretty bad when you didn’t spend Thanksgiving with them, and now you’re here for Christmas.”

Her shrug was awkward, but she tried to buy herself time to think of an answer he would understand.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s… People who are tight with their families don’t always get it.”

The tension that fell over the room was what Morgan had been worried about, the sudden tightness of Nick’s mouth as he considered what she’d said and the inevitable conclusions he would jump to if she didn’t elaborate. Except, if anybody would accept her not elaborating it would be Nick. He very clearly wasn’t going to push her, even if he had started to frown and looked anywhere but her face.

“I haven’t—”

“You don’t have to, Mo, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t spoken to anyone in my family since I left for college,” she continued, her voice firm enough to ensure Nick knew she was comfortable with continuing. “My parents and I never saw eye-to-eye, and they couldn’t stand the idea of me going to college, especially not for cross country.”

“What did they want you to do?”

“Marry Drew, and start popping out kids.” Morgan sighed, saying the real reason, “Stay where they could keep an eye on me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone ever needing to keep an eye on you.”

“I was too worldly for their liking. Made me a bad daughter.”

She smiled—to herself, mostly—forever amused by the idea that she of all people was too worldly, that leaving Ohio for Michigan was some dangerous and exotic adventure, that returning to Ohio was her hooking up with the devil. Nick found it just as amusing, or maybe he just found her amusement amusing because he started smiling, too, and, before Morgan knew it, they were laughing together.

It quickly got out of hand, laughing at absolutely nothing, but hard enough that neither of them was really making much noise.

The distance between them was slowly slipping away as they laughed, Morgan listing forward with every desperate attempt at inhaling. Nick wasn’t leaning away, either, though, not even when the laughter eventually stopped, and they were just lying beside each other again.

With just the bedside lamp lighting the room and a small stream of light coming from the staircase, Morgan was captivated by the angelic glow on Nick’s already soft expression. An admission tumbled from her lips without much forethought; she didn’t even feel panicked by it.

“I regretted saying ‘no’ when you asked me out. Not right away, but you were really good about it and limited the flirting, and by the time you weren’t a freshman, and I didn’t have to feel weird about it… you stopped flirting all together.”

A conflicted grimace morphed onto Nick’s face, not bad enough for Morgan to regret what she’d said, but enough that if she’d known she would have held onto it for another moment.

“It was two-fold: that sort of persistence usually gets creepy, but it also sucked to get shut down like I did.”

“I heard you got a girlfriend.”

“Sophomore year, yeah. After I stopped asking about you all the time other girls started to pay attention to me.”

Morgan didn’t spend much time around the hockey team in her senior year—Nick’s sophomore year. The cross-country team’s strong connection to them had disappeared with the graduation of Sasha and Brendan, and any other friendships that had formed were enough for a plus-one to a party but not for either entire team to show up and wreak havoc.

Those friendships and plus-ones were more than enough, however, to get all the gossip that floated from the men’s hockey team, including Nicholas Blankenburg and his lovely, blonde, rowing team girlfriend.

“Nothing to do with you being twenty-one and on the hockey team?” she teased, combined with a gentle poke to his ribs.

He smirked, even if it was unexpected and self-disparaging, before shrugging coyly and admitting, “It didn’t hurt.”

Silence settled between them, Morgan just choosing to smile at Nick knowingly while still wishing that he’d started at UMich straight out of high school.

Nick’s eyes flickered to the door, and he said, “Hi Mom,” without any reservations, without moving an inch.

“It’s getting late,” Karin said from the doorway. “It might be time to let Morgan get ready for bed.”

Morgan knew that they were being told because Karin didn’t want them sharing a bed. If Morgan was less happy about being there, she might have been offended by the insinuation that she and Nick would get up to no good—they wouldn’t because they weren’t together. There was nothing for Karin to worry about, though, and nothing for Morgan to feel caught about because, despite being quite close to each other, they were on top of the covers, not at all touching.

Nick pulled his phone out of his pocket, then revealed the time to the two of them. It said it was nearing eleven—later than she had expected.

“It is bedtime,” Morgan conceded, rolling to plant her feet on the floor. When she was standing, she stretched out her back—they’d been lying there for a couple hours, and she didn’t realise how stiff she was until she was upright.

“I’ll see you kids in the morning. Make sure you get some sleep; it’s going to be a big day.”

“Course, mom,” Nick said, sitting up against the headboard.

They all said their good nights, and Morgan lingered for just a moment to smile at Nick. She wondered, briefly, what it would be like to stay, to curl up under the covers beside him, but let the thought go.

She ducked into the bathroom to brush her teeth and take off her makeup before she changed into her pyjamas.

Nolan passed the bathroom and stopped in Nick’s door; Morgan only saw him out of the corner of her eye, and she must have been out of sight for him because he didn’t so much as poke his head in to say goodnight.

“I kept her distracted as long as I could, but I’m really bad at rummy, bro.”

Morgan could only assume that Nick responded, but she couldn’t hear; she was a little desperate to know if he had, to know what he’d said, but couldn’t very well ambush them and ask. She kept brushing her teeth and heard Nolan’s side of their conversation, though it was just them saying goodnight to each other.

She and Nolan entered the hallway at the same time, Nolan’s eyebrows raising just a little as they crossed paths. Morgan gave no indication that she heard anything—because she didn’t, really—just said goodnight, that she'd see him in the morning.

In the many years since Morgan had had a proper Christmas celebration, she didn’t think she’d missed it. Her family had been small—her, her parents, her dad’s parents and brother—so it had never felt like the huge affair she saw amongst her friends or on television. The madness around it always felt overdramatic.

Until she saw the Blankenburgs’ Christmas Day.

Despite talking to Nick until late and then lying in bed for far too long replaying their entire conversation, Morgan was roused before eight by a lot of noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like everyone had been awake for hours, they were so rowdy.

She popped her head into the hallway to get a read on if she had the time to have a shower and ran into Nolan at the top of the stairs. He’d been trying to sneak about, judging by the caught-out expression on his face. As soon as he realised it was a very awake Morgan, he grabbed her by the wrist and shouted down the stairs.

“She’s awake!”

Loud cheers resonated from the living room.

Gathered in front of the Christmas tree was Nick’s family—his parents, his siblings and their partners—drinking Karin’s delicious hot chocolate. They were clearly waiting for her to join them before they could start, and it formed a pit in the bottom of Morgan’s stomach.

She rushed to sit beside Nick on the couch, ignoring the skip in her heartbeat at the sight of him in his robe with his hair still in brushed. Everyone was wearing their robes except for Morgan as she’d been ambushed before she had the chance to grab it.

To make up for the lack of an extra layer, she sat so close to Nick she was practically on top of him. He didn’t flinch.

Panic set in when Morgan realised they were going to be opening presents. The process of how they would be opening them hadn’t really crossed her mind, and she was met with the prospect of everybody sitting and watching as each present was opened.

Alex had been given the task of handing out presents which meant Morgan, thankfully, didn’t need to leave Nick’s side. That meant, though, that she got a front row view of him opening her present for him.

There was a very unsubtle theme to her presents—the ‘lucky golf towel’, printed golf socks and a personalised scorecard holder which she honestly had bought blindly with her fingers crossed.

She chanced a look at Nick’s face when he’d opened everything, after seeing him run his finger over the monogram on the scorecard holder, and looked away instantly because she couldn’t bear the softness with which he was looking at her.

When Alex handed her a present from Nick, Morgan frowned at the size and weight of it. She opened it carefully, doing her best to ignore Nick’s close watch.

“Nick, this is ridiculous,” she protested, seeing the Nintendo Switch packaging.

“It’s selfish,” he assured her, his arm finally wrapping around her shoulders. “We can finally play games together when we’re not in the same room.”

She thanked him in a whisper and stared down at the gift. When she lifted her eyes for half a second, she caught Nolan’s eye just long enough to register the wink he sent her way.

And still it paled in comparison to the gift labelled from Mom + Dad. The label itself was enough to make Morgan want to cry, and, when she revealed the small Louis Vuitton bag inside, she just let the tears fall.

“Now I know where he gets it from,” Morgan managed to squeak out, referencing the ridiculousness she had accused Nick of.

Karin told her there was something inside the bag—Morgan couldn’t believe there was more—and, sure enough, Morgan unzipped the bag and pulled out the second part of her gift.

She was out from under Nick’s arm, on her feet and hugging Karin in a flat second.

All because of an apron.

Morgan knew leaving Washington was going to be hard as soon as she’d arrived. Nick was nice enough to let her delay their departure as long as she wanted, though. Their early morning departure time turned to midday, and by midday it was clear they wouldn’t be getting into Columbus until later that evening.

It didn’t matter to Nick when they were driving. He’d originally wanted to be home in time to watch the game against Buffalo on the television, but a snowstorm in Buffalo meant that the game had been postponed, so they no longer had to be back by a certain time.

Just prior to lunch, Karin asked to speak to Morgan privately. Nick was just as confused as Morgan when she looked to him for a clue as to what to expect; Nolan stood beside him wearing his best you’re in trouble face.

Karin shooed the boys away when they lingered. She gestured for Morgan to sit down at the bay window and went about making some hot chocolate while she asked Morgan about if she was going to be alright to drive back to Columbus and when she was returning to work. It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was the lead up to the actual conversation, so Morgan sat patiently until Karin put mugs down on the table and sat down with her.

“I just want to talk to you about your knee.”

Morgan sighed, ignored the instantaneous ache, and nodded because she didn’t know what else she could do.

“It’s fine,” Morgan tried to assure Karin. “It’s really fine.”

Karin hummed, not at all believing it. Morgan needed to get better at lying.

“Nick mentioned that you’ve been trying to run again, and it hasn’t been going so well.”

“Not as well as I want,” she conceded. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. Really.”

“Karl and I have been talking and we know that it must be incredibly hard to get the treatment you need to get better, and it must be equally as terrifying when it’s already not worked so well—we want to give you a loan to get you the medical care you need.”

“You—what?”

Across the table, with her hands wrapped around a mug of hot chocolate, Karin didn’t look as if she’d just offered Morgan wasn’t anything life changing or even important at all. Morgan wrapped her own hands around her mug and drank out of it, the burning of her tongue barely even registered.

“I know that Nick has already offered, but I don’t blame you for saying no to that kind of offer from a friend. We wanted to offer as parents.”

Morgan didn’t tell her that Nick had briefly mentioned the idea of marriage.

She did stumble over some disbelieving thank-yous and some clarifying questions before she started to cry. She had to think about it, of course, whether or not she wanted to be indebted to Karin and Karl—be indebted to the parents of a guy who had quickly become her best friend, and if it was worth the risk of something going wrong and multiple relationships going to shit.

Karin agreed to let her have time to think about it, that nothing needed to be decided any time soon, and that the offer would not be taken off the table.

When the next questions were about the drive back and whether or not the weather was good enough for them to get back safely, it gave Morgan some time to work through it before she was faced with Nick.

[imawreck]

Trigger

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Original Character

Summary: Bucky wishes to remember his past with Max and he's willing to go to the farthest lengths to retrieve those memories...

Warnings: Canon violence, Winter Soldier doing his thing, lots of angst

Word Count: 5,891

Max-

The morning after my date I was woken up to a knock at my door. I dragged myself out of bed and quickly threw on some clothes, jogging to the door. I peered through the peephole only to be met with an eye eerily close to the other side. "Natasha, you can't see inside from out there. You look like a creep." I opened the door, eyeing the redhead in front of me.

She had a wicked smile on her face, "Breakfast is ready so I told the guys I would come get you. I really only said I would so I could harass you about the details of your date." She pushed her way into my room, setting herself on the edge of my bed.

I groaned, "It's a little early to be grilled." I shut the door and made my way over to sit beside her. I didn't want to disclose too much, it was too personal to share all of what happened and Natasha and I weren't that close. "I had a really great time at the carnival, and we danced after dinner which was also a great time. Nothing really happened other than that."

Natasha studied me with a curious gaze, "Nothing? Really?"

I shook my head, "Nothing at all. It was simple and innocent and I loved it." I got up from the bed and made my way over to my chest of drawers, tugging out the black sweater Bucky had given me a few days ago and slipping it over my head. The fabric dropped to around my mid thigh and Nat eyed it suggestively.

"Are you sure nothing happened?"

I rolled my eyes and stalked to the bathroom to brush my teeth. "Yes Natasha, nothing happened. Bucky gave this to me a couple nights ago when he came to check on me after the interrogation. It was cold and I didn't plan ahead and buy heavy clothes when we went shopping. He lent it to me and I plan on washing it and giving it back eventually." That was a lie, I wasn't going to give it back to him unless he asked for it back. He had told me to keep it after all. I crammed my toothbrush into my mouth, brushing my fingers through my messy hair.

Natasha slumped her shoulders. "How boring. Well, you should at least come out and have breakfast soon. Bucky seems anxious to see you."

I smiled at that, looking back at her through the doorway. "I'll be in soon, thank you for telling me breakfast was ready."

She hummed as she exited the room and I hurried around to join the rest of the team. I was oddly nervous to see Bucky this morning. The way the night had ended was perfect and I was somehow afraid it would make seeing Bucky after it awkward. I finished brushing my teeth and took one last look in the mirror, grimacing and wetting down a stray hair. I left the room after slipping on some black socks pulled up to my knees over the pair of grey leggings I wore to bed. I felt comfortable and warm in the soft fabric of Bucky's sweater as I rode the elevator to the commons room.

When I rounded the corner, I was met with the smell of eggs and toast and the clatter of silverware against the groups plates. The soft hum of their conversations was a comfort in itself, it was never lonely in the tower. Tony was the first to greet me as the two of us plated our breakfast. "Goodmorning kid, how was your night?"

I beamed at him, "It was absolutely perfect Tony, thank you for everything."

He nodded giving me a soft pat on the back, "I wanted you to have a good time and I'm glad that you did."

I made my way around the plated food, scooping up my portion and grabbing a bottled tea from the fridge. I nearly rammed into Bucky as I turned around and had to jut my plate out to the side in order to keep it upright and out of the collision. I pressed a hand to his chest for balance and he was quick to steady me with the brush of his palm against my hip. "Easy, doll."

My heart thrummed every time he used that nickname and I could feel my cheeks warm against my will. "Thank you, good morning."

Bucky gave me a smile, his eyes crinkling. "Good morning, nice sweater."

I punched him gently in the arm, avoiding his eyes. "Don't tease me."

"I wouldn't dream of it." His arm reached around me and opened the fridge. The action brought him mere inches from my face and my eyes widened. He grabbed something from the door and shut it, holding eye contact with me. "Wanna sit with me?"

I swallowed hard and shook the look of surprise off my face with a nod and followed him over to the bar, taking the seat next to him. Bucky seemed awfully confident today. I sipped my tea as he took his seat and we both ate it relative silence as we listened to Sam, who had gotten back from quite a long errand Shield had sent him on, as he talked openly to the group. Natasha sat with Banner a little ways away from the rest of us and listened to the scientist talk about something regarding his studies. Steve was on the other side of Tony at the bar which was a little odd considering he normally sat next to his best friend in the morning.

"Bucky," I looked between him and then to Steve down the bar, "is something wrong between you and Steve?"

I watched Bucky's shoulders tense and his lips draw into a thin line, "Yeah, we had an argument before the date last night. It's nothing to worry about, we just need some time to ourselves."

I nodded, stabbing some eggs onto my fork. "I hope you guys can figure it out."

We ate the rest of our breakfasts in the cacophony of our teammates. It was peaceful, wonderful and perfect. I never wanted to live a day without their bickering. I had come to love the tower of misfits. They were close knit and sarcastic, dysfunctional at times, but anyone could tell that they loved each other in their own little ways. They were a family.

After breakfast I said my goodbye to Bucky with a light squeeze of his shoulder and a soft smile that he was quick to return. I returned to my room to retrieve my book, gently setting it in the crook of my elbow and making my way back to the commons room. One of the other great things about the Avengers was how busy they all seemed to be. They never stayed in one spot for too long which left the room practically empty and the perfect space to spend my afternoon. I wasn't as busy as the rest of them due to being the most recent addition to the tower. I was really only ever busy if Tony needed Hydra information or assistance on a suit.

I sprawled out on a large white leather chair near the window, throwing my legs over the arm and closing my eyes against the warm rays of the sun. I could tell it was cool outside from the chill radiating from the window, but the sun was bright in the sky nonetheless. I propped open my book and began reading once more from the beginning.

_____

Bucky-

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the hallway leading to Banner's lab. Last nights date had just added to my need to remember my past, remember Max. It seemed like a dream now, the way she had seemed so shy with her words. Max was hardly ever shy.

Max. Max. Max.

The named fit her so well, no wonder I had chosen it all those years ago.

I peered through the glass, searching for Banner behind the bleached desks scattered throughout the room. His dark hair curled up from a chair where he was bent over a microscope. Natasha sat in the corner with a frown on her face telling him something I couldn't hear. I pushed open the glass doors, gaining both of their attention.

Natasha sent me a sly grin, "Hey, lover boy." She sent me a wink.

I rolled my eyes, "I have to ask a favor."

The redhead leaned up in her chair. "Relationship advice? Jeez Barnes, I thought you were a lady's man back in your time."

"No, not about that." I could hardly contain my frustration. "Banner, I need your help."

The man swivelled around in his chair, eyeing me cautiously. "What do you have in mind?"

"I want to figure out why I can't remember Max. I think if we can trigger the Winter Soldier and have him interact with her it will trigger some memories."

Banner's eyes went wide, "Woah, woah. First of all, who is Max? Second of all, you want to trigger the Winter Soldier?"

I raked my hand through my hair and stared at the floor, "Max is Snow and Snow is Max, she's the same person. She told me her name last night. I think the only way for me to remember her is if she comes in direct contact with the Soldier. He knew her, and whenever she says certain things I can remember them in flashes." I looked up to gauge his reaction.

Banner looked doubtful and definitely not convinced. Natasha on the other hand looked surprised, "So she had a name this whole time and just didn't tell us?"

I let out a frustrated sigh, "It's complicated. Memories are important to her and she rarely shares them. Now-"

Natasha interjected again,"But she shared it with you."

I could hardly keep from strangling her. "Yes. Banner," It came out a little too loud so I heaved a breath. "Look, you said you would help me try and get the Winter Soldier programming out of my head. Consider this an experiment. You can scan my brain waves or whatever you have to do to know what's going on. I just want to know if it will work." I hesitated, "But Steve can't know and neither can Max until you have me completely under control."

Banner frowned, "Why can't we tell him? He is usually the one to take care of you when things go south. He is kind of necessary for the whole 'completely under control' part."

Natasha nodded at his statement.

"He won't agree with it and he and I aren't really on speaking terms as of right now."

Natasha's brow raised at that. "Trouble in paradise?"

I sent her a glare, looking back at Banner. "Please, Banner. I just want to try it. If it goes south we don't have to do it again. You can even sedate me if it comes to that."

He stared at me for a long moment before nodding slowly, "Alright, I'll do it. Under one condition." He looked over to Natasha, "She stays to kick your ass if anything goes wrong."

"Deal." I doubted that Natasha could handle the Winter Soldier alone having tried it before and failing, but if that was what Banner needed to feel comfortable trying this than so be it. With a heavy sigh, Banner began prepping the lab.

_____

Max-

I had fallen asleep in the chair after finishing the book. I had sat in the sun an hour after waking up, basking in the remaining light as the clouds threatened to swallow it up. When they finally did, it was around three in the afternoon. I retreated to my room and pulled out the top drawer of my nightstand to tuck the worn article safely away in the back. I picked up the hat from where it sat on the top of the stand, running my fingers over the leather patch with a smile. I made a mental note to wear it everywhere I went; rain, snow, sleet, or sunny days.

I was in the middle of removing Bucky's sweater from my shoulders, the fabric stuck halfway off over my head, when Friday called out to me in an urgent manner. The building rumbled as she spoke, "Snow, you are needed in the laboratory. The Winter Soldier has been activated and is currently fighting the team."

I ripped the sweater off my head and tossed it to the bed as I raced through the door and out into the hallway as panic overtook me.

The elevator was too slow, I needed to move quickly. I darted for the stairs, taking them in leaps of four before I gripped the railing. The metal groaned beneath my fingers as I heaved my weight over the edge and plummeted downward. I counted the floors as I fell and reached out to snag the edge of the stairway just above the floor I needed, cracking the cement as I swung, and shooting my body through the gap between the floors. I stuck the landing hard, cracking the cement floor beneath me and sending a jolting ache through my legs. The tower shook but I ignored it, blowing through the doors and staring right down the hall towards the chaos.

The first thing that drew my attention was Natasha. Her legs were wrapped around Bucky's head, his face reddening with the pressure as his metal arm continued to pry at her limbs. Her hands held something between them, leading me to believe she had something wrapped around his neck to aid her in knocking him unconscious.

I barely waited a second before launching towards her, yelling at the top of my lungs, "Stop! Stop fighting him!"

In three bounds I was behind her, reaching out to grip the back of her shirt to pry her off but before I could, I felt the hairs on my neck rise as a metalic 'whoosh' rang through the air.

I whipped around, extending my outstretched hand to latch onto Cap's shield, before it could make contact with my head, betrayal leaking onto my face as I launched it back full force. It thudded against his sternum but not before he could slow it. It still knocked his breath from his lungs. His glare hardened as he coughed hard and launched himself at me.

We had sparred before in the gym, I knew his moves before he could strike.

Steve swung his shielded arm out towards my head to which I blocked with my forearm, making the mistake of leaving my side wide open. His fist connected hard to my ribs and I grunted in pain, crying out, "What is wrong with you! I am trying to help you!" Letting the rage bubble up in my chest, I curled my wrist behind his neck and gripped the base of it, shoving him downward and bringing my knee up hard into his nose, tossing him into the wall of the lab.

Natasha had been knocked aside by Bucky, who now kneeled on the floor sputtering and drawing in air. Tony was descending on him fast, using his metal suit to grip Bucky around the waist and throw him into the wall. Bucky was quick to recover in time to hold off Tony's assault as he pinned Bucky against the wall once more and they battled it out. Metallic scraping and crashing filled the room.

I took off towards them, digging my fingers between two plates in Tony's suit and tearing it away. I repeated this with two more plates before he spun around and aimed his repulsor at me, charging it up. I stared at him in horror before burying my fingers deep in his plated palm and removing it before he could engauge. Bucky was slumped against the wall, clawing away from the two of us and gasping.

I was furious, shouting at Tony's metal clad face, "Is this how you handle this kind of thing?" I clawed at him, finding the chinks in his armor and using them to throw his body across the lab. He crashed into the glass sending spider cracks through the panel.

I spun around, staring down Clint in a silent threat at his drawn arrow. He drew away, visibly flinching as he did so. Within the time it had taken me to remove Tony, Natasha had managed to get herself back on Bucky's shoulders with her wire, attempting once more to knock him out. I took the opportunity to fist the back of Natasha's shirt and the back of Bucky's and wrench them apart, shoving both of them in opposite directions. Natasha crumbled to the floor, her eyes wide and her legs kicking out under her. I snatched the wire cord she had been using from where it dropped on the floor and tore it apart, throwing it at her feet in fury. I turned to Bucky, still sputtering and coughing hard from Natasha's attack, barely able to miss the metal fist flung directly where my nose would have been.

I continued to dodge, "Winter! Look at me!"

He growled, ramming his elbow into my back. I cried out in frustration, dropping low and wrapping my fingers around his ankle, pulling his leg out from under him. Bucky's face rammed into the concrete with a thunk and a groan left his lips. He rolled over onto his back with wide eyes, his brows furrowed in confusion and anger before he flung himself to his feet. Blood dripped down his face, accentuating the rabid look in his eyes.

I held my hands up in open palms, backing away. "I don't want to hurt you, Winter. You know who I am. Look at me."

I could tell he wasn't focussed, that his mind was still scrambling to make sense of everything. More than likely, whoever triggered him told him he didn't have a mission. Without a mission, he doesn't know what to do and in this state his mind is fragile. Easily upset.

Again he swung for me, this time with his flesh arm. I met him halfway, getting close to him before gripping his wrist and spinning it behind him. With a swift kick, I had him kneeling on one knee and flailing his metal arm to try and grab whatever part of me he could reach. I pinned his metal arm behind his back much like the other, holding them in a vice grip as I spoke to him through gritted teeth. "Winter," I gripped a handful of the hair on the back of his head, tugging it hard to urge his head upward to face me, "I said look at me!"

Our breaths mixed in the inches between us, both of us panting hard from the exertion. His eyes flickered frantically between mine, searching in the confusion. His breath slowed, the first indication that he was regaining himself. When his eyes didn't search so frantically, slowing their movement and taking in my face a little more than he had before, I felt the stress in my shoulders lessen.

I stared right back, smoothing away any signs of aggression I might have held on my face and listened to his heart slow. I loosened my grip on his hair, allowing him to tilt his head to examine me some more.

His mouth opened, his teeth drawing his lip between them for a moment as his brow furrowed. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse and raw. "I know you."

I released his wrists then, nodding slowly and letting out a breath. I moved around to the front of him, "You know me." I extended my hand to him, pulling him up when he took it. He didn't release my hand, rather pulling it towards him and moving his body between me and the others. His body was tense, the machinery in his arm whirring as his plates readjusted to his clenching fist.

I took his fist between my hands, moving to his side to peer around his arm. "Wait, don't. They won't hurt us." There was hesitation written all over his face. I know it couldn't have made any sense to him, having just fought them. "Trust me." When he gave me a nod, I moved around to stand in front of him.

I stared at the members in front of me. All of them wore varying expressions of frustration and confusion. Tony was appalled with the fact I had damaged his suit, it was evident in the way he clenched his uncovered palm and held the crumpled pieces of shrapnel in his fist.

Steve was the worst of them all, his eyes lit ablaze with a hatred I didn't think the man of peace could possess. Blood leaked from his broken nose.

I drew my brows together, "He isn't a danger to any of us, you have to understand that. As long as you aren't aggressive, there won't be an issue."

Steve scoffed, "He just attacked Banner after being activated. He wasn't given a mission so he shouldn't have attacked. He is unhinged, Snow!"

I could feel Winter press his chest against my back, ready to defend me if he needed. My hand instinctively latched onto his wrist to keep him still. I shook my head, staring Steve down. "He's confused and scared, Steve. This is your best friend we're talking about. He just doesn't understand what being missionless means."

I couldn't explain it all right this minute. I needed to get Winter out of the possibly hostile environment or he would have another episode. I panned over to Tony. "Tony," I pressed, "I'm really sorry about your suit but violence isn't the right way to handle him when he's like this. He just needs some peace. I can take care of him until we get Bucky back, just give us some space. He has to relax."

I wasn't sure what I would do if he said no.

I didn't want to get physical with Tony, but if we couldn't get him to relax then it would prolong the amount of time Bucky was suppressed in his own body. "Please, Tony. Let me help him. I'll fix your suit, just let me do this."

The expression on his face was grim and unpleasant. I didn't want to disappoint him, but I couldn't risk Bucky getting injured if he chose to deny my request.

Tony dropped his head, scratching the back of his neck. The action caused Winter to tense again to which I sent a squeeze through his arm.

When Tony looked up again, there was defeat in his eyes. "Fine, but he doesn't leave the floor of the commons room. I'll have it ready by the time you get up there. It will be secure," He sent me a pointed look to indicate his underlying meaning. Locked. "You can handle this?"

"Yes, I've got it. Thank you, Tony." I took one last glance at the others before I left, trying hard to keep the anger off my features as I led Winter out of the room and into the elevator.

The Soldier stood stock still at my side. I let my hand drop from his wrist, fearing that the contact might cause him to feel restrained. He was quiet, but I caught his eyes flickering down to me once or twice on our ride. When the elevator leveled, I nodded towards the doors and we both walked into the commons. The glass windows were sealed with thick metal sheets from the outside making it impossible for any natural light to enter the room. All the lamps were turned on but the main lights were dimmed. No one was in the room and the two of us were quiet.

I turned to Winter, taking in his appearance. His lip was busted and he had a cut along his cheekbone. Blood was smeared across his mouth and under his nose, but it had stopped flowing which was a good thing. He held his fists at his sides and blood trickled to the floor from the splits along his knuckles. I knew there was a medical kit under the sink but I needed to make sure that he was comfortable enough for me to be that close to him.

I took hesitant step, "Winter?" He was already watching me, his cold blue eyes analyzing every one of my movements. "Could you take a seat for me?"

I tilted my head towards the white chair I had napped in earlier today. His body moved mechanically, moving forward and taking a seat on the clean leather. He rested his hands on his knees and stared at the floor.

A pang shot through my heart, "Can you tell me what you remember? Please tell me everything you can from the beginning till now. I want to help you."

His whole body tensed as he spoke in his strained voice, "There was a man, a doctor... He told me I didn't have a mission. He had me cuffed to a chair in a lab. I thought... I thought I was being terminated." I watched him hesitate as he frowned, opening his lips. "Am I being terminated?" Winter looked up at me then, fear wild in his eyes. I could hear how hard his heart was pounding inside his ribcage. He was waiting for a punishment.

"Oh no, no, Winter. You're not being terminated. No one is going to hurt you here, those people were just as confused as you were." I crouched down slowly, keeping my voice soft. "You don't have to worry about getting hurt here. You can talk freely without being punished. You and I are just going to sit in here and figure things out."

Winter stared at me for a long while, letting his eyes wash over me. "I know you."

I nodded, confirming it once more. "You do. We have known each other for a very long time."

His eyes cleared a bit at that, "Your name is Max."

"That's right," I encouraged as I bent on my knees in front of him. "What else can you remember?"

His dark hair fell across his eyes and he folded and unfolded his hands with his brows pressed together. "You... you're always close, always here. I can't remember how I know you."

I could tell that he was beginning to get frustrated, "Hey, that's okay. It will come to you, I promise."

Winter looked down at me with his cloudy eyes and light frown, reaching out his bloody hand to lightly brush a strand of my hair away. "I want to remember you."

I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks at his statement, wrapping my hand around his own and pressing it to my face. "You will. It just takes time."

His calloused thumb stroked over my cheek as he pursed his lips but said nothing.

"Let me clean you up, you're still bleeding." I pushed off from the floor and let his hand drop from my face. The kit was buried under a bucket of cleaning supplies and a pile of washcloths in the very far corner of the cabinet. I hauled it out, kicking the pile of washcloths back into the cabinet and nudging the basket farther back before I returned to Winter's side. He watched me sift through the items inside, sitting quietly and more relaxed than he was before.

I set aside what I needed to clean his wounds and shut the container. I ripped open a alcohol wipe, shooting him a small glance of apology as I swiped it across his knuckles and the cut on his cheek. He flinched but otherwise let me help him. I opened the butterfly stitches, peeling away the paper and placing a pair of them across his cheek, tugging the skin back together and pressing them down as gently as I could. Next, I folded some gauze over his knuckles and wrapped them firmly in a bandage. Once I deemed it an acceptable repair job, I threw away the trash and returned the kit to the cabinet.

Winter spoke from his spot across the room, "I hurt you."

I frowned, "Hm?"

"When you were trying to stop them, I hurt you." He wore a pained expression, obviously regretful of his actions.

"Don't worry about it, you weren't in the right mind. Plus, I'm completely fine. No harm done." I sat on the floor in front of him once more, smiling kindly. "I did also smack your head against the floor, so you could count us even." That pulled a rueful smile onto his face for just a moment. "How about we watch a movie?"

Winter tilted his head to the side, scarily resembling a confused puppy, "A movie?"

I nodded, "Here, let me show you. Come sit with me on the couch." I bounced up, jogging over to the tv and turning it on. I knew that Tony had put in this really old western movie for the teams next movie night and thought it was perfect to distract Winter long enough to lull him into sleep.

Just as the player blinked to life, voices rose from behind the elevator. Shouting. Winter was at my side in an instant.

"Snow!" Steve came barreling through the elevator doors, the blood from his nose smeared across his face and on his sleeve. "You don't have any right to give orders around here, let alone handle a Hydra weapon as an Ex-Hydra agent." Tony stood behind him, staring sternly at the back of Steve's head. I could tell this wasn't his idea.

Winter glared holes into Steve's face while I spoke up from my place in front of him, careful to keep the two men separated. "You know I don't work for them anymore. I have given you the information you need to defeat them and will continue to do so. I'm even helping you fight them. So what is this about, Rogers?"

He continued to stalk towards me, eyes sharp, "This is about Bucky. He doesn't need to be trusting someone like you. You aren't trustworthy, you don't have a side. I don't trust you, with a background like the one you have, to be in control of Bucky while he isn't himself." I could feel Winter's breath picking up the closer Steve got.

His words stung, but the frustration and urgency I felt outweighed anything else. "Steve, we can sort this out later. Right now, I need you to back away." I held his gaze, leveling him with equal parts anger and frustration. He didn't stop though, even went as far as reaching out towards me.

He didn't get very far before a metal arm shot out and wrapped around the collar of his suit to heave him against the wall besides us.

Winter held him there with a fire in his eyes, "Don't touch her."

Steve scowled into Winter's face, "You're controlling him now, aren't you? Using him to protect yourself from the rest of us. What are you planning? Is this what Hydra meant by all their pieces were in place? Are you their pawn, Snow?"

I scoffed, "You're kidding me, right? This is ridiculous!"

"Is it? I've seen the way you fight. You don't have any morals or alliances. You just do as you please and don't care who gets hurt in the process!" Winter gripped his collar harder, knocking his head against the wall once more.

It didn't seem to deter Steve much. "You always go on about how close you and the Winter Soldier were too. I bet you're ecstatic that he's back."

I pushed out an angered breath, "Easy, Winter. Don't hurt him." I placed my hand on his metal arm, pressing down on it lightly. His eyes bored into Steve's for a moment longer before he released him, letting his feet touch the ground once more. "Steve, you need to go. You are being irrational."

The elevator toned again, causing all of us to turn towards it's direction where Sam strutted through the doors. He paused at all our attention, eyes wide, "Uh, am I interrupting something?"

Tony shot him a look, "Where were you? Bucky went haywire and you weren't even in the tower!"

"I went out for good coffee! You drink dirt here!" He gave us a shrug and peered over Tony's shoulder to give Winter a once over. "So Bucky isn't Bucky."

Steve piped up from his where he stood, "No he's not, and Snow is manipulating him."

"I'm not manipulating him," I growled. Winter raised a threatening hand before I tugged it back to his side. "All of you need to leave. Now."

Steve shook his head, "I'm not leaving until Bucky is back."

I groaned, running my fingers through my hair and tugging on the ends. I paced in a circle, desperately fighting the urge to strangle Steve just to remove the worming headache threatening to overtake me. "You don't get it do you?" I blew a breath out of my nose, "Winter, will you please go sit on the couch over there? I need to talk to these people for a moment."

Winter gave me a questioning glance, shooting a look of hatred towards Steve before he did as I asked, brushing his bandaged knuckles against mine as he passed me. It didn't go unnoticed by Steve.

"Tony, can I talk to you for a second?" I prayed he would be more reasonable than Rogers.

Tony obliged, letting me tug him over to a corner away from the other two men who took to having an unspoken staring contest with Winter. I stared hard at Tony, "I need you to get them out of here and keep them out until I can get Bucky back. I don't know if you believe that shit Steve was spewing, but it isn't true. I want Bucky back as much as you do, he just needs to be in a relaxed atmosphere and that," I jerked a thumb over my shoulder, "Is not relaxed. In order to get Bucky back, Winter has to fall asleep to reset his mind. Since he hasn't been wiped, Bucky can come back if he passes out. So, I planned on making him watch a movie until he was comfortable enough to fall asleep. Hence why I needed him alone. Winter feels comfortable around me. It's the only way that doesn't require you to knock him unconscious."

Tony nodded as I spoke, watching the others over my shoulder. "I understand, Cap just won't listen to reason right now. I don't know why he has such an issue with you, but he always gets this way when Bucky is involved. I think if you let him cool down and tell him what you just told me, he would be willing to let you stay in here until Bucky is back. Just let him stick around for a little bit."

I huffed, marching back to the sofa. The headache had taken root in my brain and I had a feeling that getting Bucky back wouldn't be as easy as I thought.

Tags<3

@imdoingathingmom / @blackbirdwitch22 / @cjand10

[fics-by-em]

Amorous Facades - Chapter Eleven

A wild night out leaves the lives of Jamie Tartt and Ophelia Adams more intertwined than they ever would have imagined.

Will their decision to try and use the situation to their advantage work out in their favour or will they realize that they should have cut their losses when they had the chance?

———-

previous chapter

———-

Note: I know this chapter is a little bit late, but unfortunately that might be happening a bit more for the next little while… I have a really busy couple of weeks ahead and then I'm going on vacation for two weeks where I'll have no access to my laptop to write or post anything. Then in September I'm starting a new job. I'm still hoping to update regularly, but the once a week schedule might not be possible. I hope you can all stick with me though because I do have lots more planned for this story!

———-

During their first few days as an official couple, Lia saw less of Jamie than she had every other week since they met. When he left early the morning after their date and didn’t come home until well after dinner, she couldn’t help but let her anxiety get the best of her as she worried that he’d changed his mind or decided that convincing her to agree to be his girlfriend was enough for him to claim victory and he no longer cared now that the chase was over. The hours she’d spent alone that evening after she got home from work gave her enough time to spiral into her own thoughts until she’d worked up the courage to confront him almost as soon as he walked through the door.

She’d immediately blurted out her concerns and while Jamie was shocked at first, a smile slid onto his face once he’d managed to process her words. That only annoyed Lia even further - as she assumed he was making a joke of the whole situation - but he’d quickly put her mind at ease. He apologized for the lack of contact through the day and he explained that their final match of the season was coming up that weekend. It was very important that they won if they wanted to be promoted which meant that the team would be spending the rest of the week training hard for long days. That information simultaneously had Lia feeling relieved and embarrassed as she mumbled out an apology for her reaction and suggested they work on their communication.

Despite the smug smile on his face, Jamie had agreed and spent the rest of the evening teasing her about being so clingy, but from then on he’d made more of an effort to check in throughout the day. She appreciated his willingness to listen to her concerns and by the end of the week she was feeling much more confident in her decision to give Jamie a chance. He really was working hard to prove his dedication to her and she was powerless to resist his charm.

However, when the day of Richmond’s final match of the season came around, Lia found herself feeling nervous again. Jamie had left mid-morning to get in a warm-up with the team before the match started as usual on game day which left Lia to show up at Nelson Road alone, wondering what kind of reception she would receive. She walked slowly through the hallways as if she could delay the inevitable rejection, but it still didn’t take her long to find herself standing outside the door to Rebecca’s office and she took a deep breath to steady herself before knocking on the door.

“Come in!”

It was Rebecca’s voice that called out to her and she accepted the invitation to poke her head around the door to see her sitting on the couch with Keeley as she’d expected.

“Hi,” Lia smiled, relaxing slightly when they didn’t immediately recoil at the sight of her. “I know it’s short notice, but I was hoping I could sit with you two at the match today.”

“Yeah, of course, babe,” Keeley nodded, her enthusiasm putting her even more at ease. “Do you want some champagne?”

She held up her glass as if to demonstrate and Lia accepted the offer as she moved to sit beside her. She was trying to think of a way to bring up the elephant in the room as Keeley poured her a drink, but Rebecca beat her to it.

“So,” she started. “How’re things with Jamie?”

Considering she hadn’t talked to Keeley at all since Jamie’s confession and wasn’t entirely sure how she was feeling, Lia answered somewhat trepidatiously.

“Things are actually really good,” she admitted. “We’ve decided to give it a shot and try being in an actual relationship, not just a pretend one.”

“Oh my god,” Keeley squealed as she handed Lia a glass of champagne. “That’s amazing! I was so worried that Jamie had messed it up all by saying what he said, but he really didn’t mean it. I know Jamie and I know he didn’t, he’s just more emotional than people think and the funeral got the best of him.”

“That’s what he said and it’s been kinda hard to blindly trust him, but we went on a date a few days ago and he really put in some effort. It was nice.”

“That’s so exciting,” Keeley gushed. “And I promise there’s nothing between us now. I was so worried you wouldn’t wanna be friends anymore after what he said so I’m really glad you showed up today!”

“Me too,” Lia smiled. “I didn’t want things to be awkward and I believe that things are over between you, but I just worry that Jamie’s just desperate for affection from anyone, not necessarily from me.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Keeley rushed to assure her. “He’s different with you. He cares about you, I can see it.”

“It always seemed like more than just an act to me too,” Rebecca mused. “But tell us about this date? Where did you go?”

Lia felt her smile widen and she tried to control her enthusiasm as she launched into an explanation, grateful to finally get some womanly insight into the situation. She told them about the flowers, about the board game pub, the walk home and the little boy in the ice cream parlour. The way they ‘ooh’d and ‘awwe’d at all the right moments brought her some comfort as she still couldn’t help but feel like she’d maybe been won over a little too easily, but Keeley’s response when she was done telling her tale only strengthened her belief that giving Jamie a chance was the right choice.

“Wow, that is way more romantic than anything he ever did for me,” Keeley informed her. “He’s smitten, babe.”

“I didn’t think he had it in him,” Rebecca agreed. “But obviously he just needed to find the right person and it would seem that person is you.”

“You think so? I can’t shake the feeling that he’ll toss me aside once he’s had his fun.”

“Why on earth would you think that?”

The question came from Rebecca - her shock clear in her voice - but Lia simply shrugged.

“Because he’s Jamie Tartt and I’m just me, a dork who works in a bookstore. I don’t want him to get bored once the chase is over.”

“But you’re not boring,” Keeley assured her. “You’re fun and so sweet, Jamie is lucky to have you.”

“You think so?”

Lia cringed, knowing that low self-esteem wasn’t a particularly endearing thing, but she hoped that they would know it was a sincere question and not just a way for her to fish for compliments.

“Absolutely,” Rebecca nodded. “And from what I can see, you’re both good for each other. You definitely bring out the good in him.”

Lia felt practically giddy from their reassurance and hid her smile behind her glass of champagne as she mumbled out a ‘thank you’ before taking a sip and switching the conversation back onto Rebecca to get caught up on the gossip of her own slightly messy love life.

——

The match was a rollercoaster of emotions and Lia wondered if they always would be now that she found herself rather invested in one of the players. The first half had things looking pretty bleak and while Lia knew it wasn’t over until it was over, she was bracing herself to spend the rest of her evening trying to comfort Jamie and help him through the loss.

However, those worries vanished from her mind shortly after the second half of the match started.

It was like Richmond were a different team and they quickly picked up the slack from the first half. It was tense and exciting, but they pulled it together enough to force a tie which was all they needed to get promoted. The girls leapt to their feet the moment the match was officially over, squealing and hugging with an enthusiasm that Lia never imagined she would feel about a sporting event before she met Jamie. The team and coaches all flooded onto the pitch as they celebrated with the roaring cheers from the crowd reaching almost deafening levels and despite the newness and instability of their relationship, Lia felt a pull towards Jamie that truly surprised her.

It was like she physically needed to be near him. She could see him on the pitch being embraced by his teammates and she craved the opportunity to do the same. The pride she felt swelling in her chest took her breath away and when the boys all jumped and ran off the pitch and Keeley suggested they head down to the locker room, Lia practically bolted for the door of the box they were sitting in. She paused briefly enough to congratulate Rebecca on her team’s win, but then she darted out into the hallway with Keeley hot on her heels.

The sound of exuberant chants echoed down the halls as soon as they got down to the main floor and Lia let out a joyful giggle as Keeley swung open the door, calling out to the team as she did. Their presence seemed to heighten the already rampant celebrations as the team let out a cheer at their arrival, but Lia was more focused on her search through the crowd for Jamie. 

When her eyes finally landed on him, she felt her heart swell.

He looked relieved. He looked joyous. He looked on top of the world. And combined with his dishevelled post-match appearance, the look of success was incredibly sexy on him.

She couldn’t resist winding her way through the group until she was by his side and finally able to wrap her arms around him, finding the feel of him just as intoxicating as the sight. His strong muscles, clinging to his shirt that was damp with sweat. The deep, manly scent of his body after such an intense workout. The way he squeezed her so tight she wondered if he was ever going to let her go. It all had such a strong wave of emotion washing over her that she couldn’t stop herself from stretching up to capture his lips in a kiss.

There was a shyness to it - a moment of hesitance before she found the courage to slide her hand to the back of his neck and encourage him to dip his head - but Lia knew it was unnecessary. As far as the rest of the team was concerned, their PDA was old news. They’d been showing affection in front of the group for weeks, but it felt different now that what they had was real. The moment felt more intimate now that it wasn’t simply for show and Lia felt her cheeks growing hot as she pulled away.

“Congratulations, Jamie, you were amazing.”

“Nah, wasn’t me really,” Jamie shrugged. “Dani’s goal really sealed the deal.”

“But you let him take the shot,” she pointed out. “It was a team effort and you’ve really become a team player.”

“Thanks, babe.”

A lazy smile slid onto Jamie’s face that was so endearing that Lia found herself once again drawn to stretch up and connect their lips, but she was relieved to find that Jamie seemed to be as desperate for connection with her as she was with him as when she tried to slip out of his grasp, he tightened his arm around her waist to stop her from moving too far away.

There was a tension between them that was undeniable. It simmered through the after party in the locker room and seemed to grow with every casual touch or lingering glance. Lia felt absolutely smitten with Jamie. Seeing him in his element, celebrating after a win, bonding with the team that he’d been working so hard to prove himself too. The atmosphere amongst the group was electric and Lia was grateful to be a part of it, even more so now that she wasn’t just pretending. 

And as Jamie’s touches grew bolder, she felt it was safe to assume that he was feeling the same way about her. His hand drifting down to squeeze her bum when no one was looking, letting his thumb slip under her shirt to stroke at the skin of her lower back when his arm was settled around her waist, the way he kept leaning in close to whisper things in her ear even when such closeness wasn’t really necessary almost as if he was just looking for an excuse to let his breath wash over her skin. There was no way that Jamie couldn’t feel the spark crackling between them and crawling up his spine the way that she could.

And so - if Jamie was intent on driving her wild - she decided to return the favour.

Being seductive or flirtatiously teasing wasn’t her forte, but the beer that she was sipping on helped her find a little inspiration - both due to its contents and design. She was deep in conversation with Isaac - the team Captain - and Colin - one of his teammates - when the alcohol she’d been sipping and the burn of Jamie’s gaze on her helped the idea take shape in her mind. Nodding along to what Isaac was saying as he told her some in depth information about a play they’d been practicing, she glanced over at Jamie and made eye contact as she deliberately let the neck of the bottle rest between her lips for just a moment longer than necessary, sucking gently in a way that she hoped would be at least somewhat suggestive. She saw Jamie’s jaw clench as he watched her and she bit back a smile as she turned her attention back to the men she was talking to, but it didn’t take long for her to feel an arm slide around her waist and she didn’t even need to glance up to know that it was Jamie.

For the rest of the post-game celebration, Jamie didn’t let her out of his grasp and Lia was more than happy to stay cuddled up against his side. When the team started discussing where to move the party and which club to take the celebrations to, she was relieved when Jamie turned down the invitation and suggested that they just head home. She eagerly agreed, but was surprised that when they got into the taxi to go home, Jamie became more withdrawn. The affection that he’d been lavishing on her all night was gone as he sat on the far side of the car, focusing his gaze out the window. It was reminiscent of how they’d been when their relationship was just an act and it was a stark contrast to the way he’d been all evening.

She tried not to let her anxiety bubble to the surface and get the best of her - assuming instead that perhaps he was just tired as the adrenaline of the match started to fade away rather than that he wasn’t truly interested in her - but she was still buzzing from the way they’d been teasing each other all night. Desperate for some kind of physical touch, she reached out to take his hand and was relieved when he turned his head to flash her a smile before interlacing their fingers.

It was sometime during their drive home that Lia started formulating another idea - one that was only emboldened by the fact that Jamie announced that he was in dire need of a shower almost as soon as they walked through the door.

——

Jamie had barely been in the shower for five minutes when he heard a knock at the door before it slowly cracked open.

“Jamie? Can I come in?”

The question was tentative and only added to Jamie’s confusion. In all the time they’d lived together, neither of them had dared to enter the bathroom while the other one was showering. The glass door left nothing to the imagination and as soon as she entered the bathroom he would be fully exposed to her. It was a thought made his cock twitch despite his concern about her urgent need to talk to him. 

“Course you can,” he called back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she squeaked as she poked her head around the door. He noted with pride that her eyes widened at the sight of him, but the next words out of her mouth left him the one feeling stunned. “I was just wondering if I could join you?”

He stared in disbelief as she shrugged the bathrobe that she’d changed into off of her shoulders and stood before him completely naked. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned. “How could I say no to that?”

After the weeks of self-restraint, he felt himself begin to stiffen just from letting his eyes roam over her body, admiring her pert breasts and soft curves that he’d been fantasizing about for so long as her cheeks flushed a deep red and she open the door that separated them. When she moved under the water to let her hands trace over his damp chest, he grew thick and heavy as his cock strained for some of her attention. He was almost scared to move or even breathe in case it snapped her out of whatever trance she’d fallen into, but as she bit her lip and mumbled out a soft yet appreciative ‘wow, Jamie’, he couldn’t help but question her.

“What’s all this about?” He asked softly, hoping he didn’t sound in any way ungrateful. “I thought you wanted to take things slow.”

“I do,” she admitted. “But I thought you deserved a little appreciation after your performance today. You were so good, Jamie. It was so amazing to watch you.”

Her words came out like a purr and the thick honey tone was all his cock needed to swell to its full potential, but he tried to stay focused as he made sure she was serious about the situation.

“S’just the job,” he choked out. “It’s nothing special.”

“It was special,” she insisted. “You were incredible. I was so proud to be wearing your jersey, for everyone in the crowd to be thinking that I’m your wife.”

The praise sent shivers down his spine as he flushed at her words, but the request that came next almost short-circuited his brain.

“Can I touch you?”

“Yes! Fuck, Lia, please.”

He answered immediately, feeling his desperation climbing quicker than he was used to. But then again, he wasn’t used to being celibate for as long as he had been and a release with someone other than his hand was very much needed. He knew that he was very close to sounding like he was begging - something he wasn’t particularly used to doing in bed - but in that moment he would have promised her anything to get her hands to slide down his stomach the way that they were. When she took him in her hand, he couldn’t hold back the moan that slid from his lips and he kept his eyes from fluttering shut just long enough to see her peering up at her from under her long eyelashes with wide eyes.

“You’re so big…” He knew he was at least a little bit above average, but the awe and delight in her voice had a wave of pride washing over him. She had an air of innocence about her despite the bold way she’d come onto him and he was finding it hard to hold himself back. However, he didn’t have to struggle with his restraint for long before she sank to her knees, staring at his cock with a hungry look in her eyes. “I can’t wait to taste you…”

She looked up at him, almost as if she was waiting for permission, but he didn’t trust his voice not to crack so he simply nodded. That was all the encouragement she needed as she eagerly took him into her mouth earning a hiss of pleasure from Jamie as his head tipped back into the warm stream of the shower. He’d had a few doubts about the level of experience that Lia had, but it was soon obvious that he had nothing to worry about because if she was unpracticed then she was a natural talent.

The warmth, the pressure, the pace that she set. It was like she knew exactly what he needed even before he did. She took him deep, gagging slightly in a way that was another little boost to his ego, but his chivalrous side came out as he let one hand slide to her the back of her head to help steady her movements and keep her comfortable. He was careful to keep his grip loose - more to guide than to control - as she clearly needed very little help from him.

He watched completely entranced as she hollowed her cheeks, sucking him so enthusiastically that it was like she was honoured to do it. As her hand drifted from his thigh to gently cup and tease his balls, an obscene sound left his mouth and he felt himself quickly heading towards a peak. He knew it hadn’t taken long and usually he would have been feeling a little more sheepish about his lack of control, but he was too wrapped up in his pleasure to care.

“Babe,” he choked out, knowing he needed to warn her before he was too far gone to form any words. “I’m close.”

The only indication that she’d heard was a slight increase of her tempo and as he felt her tongue drag pointedly along the vein on the underside of his cock, Jamie was lost in his pleasure to repeat himself. His fist clenched as his other hand tightened its grip on Lia’s hair and he resisted the urge to buck into her mouth, letting out a strangled cry as the rush of his release washed over him.

His knees felt weak as his heart raced in his chest, but even when Lia pulled away to swallow, she used her hand to gently stroke him until he came back down from his high. And once his mind began to clear, he reached down to offer her a hand and help her back to her feet.

“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” he murmured. “Where did that come from?”

“You deserved it,” she smiled. “Was it okay?”

“Okay? You were fucking amazing,” he assured her. “Didn’t expect you to be so bold.”

She blushed so hard that even her chest was flushed and a glimmer of the more trepidatious girl he was used to reappeared.

“I can be bold when I need to be.”

Based on what he’d seen so far, Jamie had no argument to that claim. There was obviously far more to Lia than he’d expected and he was excited to peel back even more of her layers.

“Yeah? Well, so can I,” he informed her. “How about we get out of this shower and I can return the favour?”

She bit her lip as his words made her shiver against him, but to his surprise she shook her head.

“No, it’s okay,” she assured him. “Tonight was about you.”

“You don’t want me to? It should be about both of us. You were just saying what a team player I am.”

His words were said with a smirk and he felt Lia giggle as she leaned her head against his chest.

“You are, but I didn’t expect any reciprocation. I just wanted to do something special for you.”

“Touching you would be pretty special too.” He slid his hand down to cup the cheek of her bum, revelling in the feel of her smooth skin and noting the way she turned her body slightly when he gave it a little squeeze, almost as if she was opening herself up to him. “But you didn’t answer my question. Do you want me to?”

She whimpered in response as Jamie let his hand drift over the curve of her hip, but he waited and simply rubbed his thumb against her skin until she gave him proper confirmation.

“Yes…”

It was a short response, but it was almost as desperate as Jamie's earlier plea and after her efforts to bring him pleasure, Jamie wasn’t going to make her ask twice.

Sliding his hand lower, he was somewhat surprised to find that the skin between her legs was bare. It was a detail that escaped his notice when she’d first dropped her robe, but now his mind had been cleared by his release, it caught his attention and he shelved the thought for another time to avoid embarrassing her or doing anything that might cause her to make him stop his exploration. Instead, he stayed quiet as his hand dipped lower until she parted her legs to grant him more access and the wetness he found between them had another groan falling from his lips.

“Fuck, babe, you’re soaked,” he informed her, as if she might be unaware. “Is this all for me?”

He stroked her gently, letting his fingers trail just beside the sensitive bud that he knew would be desperate for his attention as she murmured out a soft ‘mhmm’. He could feel her hand gripping his bicep as he watched her eyes drift shut and a moan slipped from her lips as he let a finger dip gently inside her. She was tight and the thought of the muscles that were gripping his finger being wrapped around his cock was almost enough to have him twitching back to life, but he kept his focus on her as he paid attention to the movements that earned him coos of pleasure or gasps of encouragement. It wasn’t long before he added another finger to his explorations, enjoying the way she stretched around him as his thumb came to settle finally on the bundle of nerves he’d been carefully avoiding. The sound she made at the contact was one of pure bliss and had Jamie feeling desperate to see her fall apart under his touch.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he groaned. “Let go for me, baby. Wanna see you cum, wanna feel it.”

His encouragement had her whimpering again, but he could tell from the quick rise and fall of her chest and the way her nails were digging into his skin that she was close. He kept his movements steady and it only took a few more moments for her to come undone, letting out a moan that sent shivers down his spine as he felt her clench around him. He coaxed her through it until she was quivering him against him when he slowly moved his hand away.

She clung to him, but as her breathing steadied and he felt her heartbeat slow in her chest, he realized the water washing over them was starting to get cold.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The words were murmured into her hair and he felt her nod as she stumbled away from him as if she was in a daze. He smirked, knowing that if she was shaken now she would be absolutely wrecked when he was able to really take his time with her, but he also knew that she seemed sincere when she insisted that she still wanted to take things slow. Considering she’d just given him far more than he’d expected to get anytime soon, he was more than happy to respect her wishes and he turned off the water before grabbing a towel and following her out of the bathroom, eager not to let her too far out of his sight.

-----

chapter twelve

[kpopspicystories]

L0ve?

Summary: You’ve known Bangchan for a very long time and are great friends until an event changes everything between you two and all of it comes to light.

The doorbell rings and as I finish washing the last plate in the sink I move towards the door to see who it is. Oh right I ordered food I couldn’t find the energy to make something. As I open the door and accept my food I walk towards the kitching again to make myself a plate of food. After I’ve eaten early dinner my phone rings and as I see who it is I got confused. ‘’Hi?’’ I answered the phone. ‘’Hi, you!’’ Bangchan sounded enthusiastic. ‘’What’s up?’’ I replied, he told me he has not heard from me in a while and wondered how I was doing. I replied ‘’Oh you know me just out here living the dream..’’ after my sarcastic reply he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

‘’So I was wondering, what are your plans tonight?’’ he asked me softly. ‘’Not much actually, why?’’ I replied. ‘’Well let’s meet then. I’m free and would like to see you!’’ he sounded cheerful again to see me and made me wonder. ‘’Sure?’’ I replied confused.

Why I was confused is because we had sort of a fight when we were drunk 3 weeks ago and I couldn’t remember what it was but it left me with lingering distance from then on. But I do think it’s a good idea to meet again and talk it out if there is something left unspoken. But the fact I couldn’t remember that night annoys me. Since it was the reason we haven’t spoken for so long, the longest ever. He’s one of my closest friends and I would like to keep him in my life. He’s a great guy..

After I took a shower and got ready my doorbell rings, it’s 7PM.

I open the door and great bangchan with a smile and we gave each other a hug. For some reason it was not awkward at all as I expected it to be. From the looks of it we were glad to see each other again. ‘’So what should we do?’’ I asked with a smile while looking over him mid hug. ‘’Let’s grab some drinks?’’ he suggested uncertain. I was a bit flustered, drinks? Is that a good idea after what happened 3 weeks ago?

‘’Oh, I euh is that a good idea?’’ I told him uncertain and in doubt. ‘’Well what do you want to do?’’ he replied. ‘’I mean we can just hang out here? Order something if we want to, watch a movie?’’ I suggested. ‘’You know like old times!’’ I replied with a smile. ‘’Yeah sure totally’’ he agreed and sat himself down on the couch. ‘’Want something to drink? I have juice and wine?’’ As I finished my sentenced I wanted to hit myself on the head… WINE. REALLY. ‘’Wine is fine!’’ he replied.

As I move myself to the kitchen hoping I don’t have any wine left I remembered that I ran some errands this morning and my booze cabinet is fully stacked. I have more than wine also soju and hard liquor. ‘’Fuck…’’ I sighed. But why was I this stressed about alcohol? I don’t even remember what happened and yet here I am stressed about it for some reason. I just don’t want it to happen again, as I was having a full discussion with myself in my head I grabbed a glass of wine for him and poured for myself a glass of pineapple juice. ‘’Here you go.’’ I said as I gave him his glass of red wine. ‘’Thank you’’ he replied and immediately took a couple of sips. I sat down and opened Netflix to see what we should watch. ‘’Any recommendations?’’ I looked at him waiting for suggestions. ‘’Oh right, well there’s this movie out. John Wick chapter 4 and it’s on Netflix let’s watch!’’ I started searching the movie and found it and put the movie on. I took a couple of sips from my juice and as I looked over his glass was already empty. I walk over to the kitchen grab the bottle of wine and set it on the table with that I also grabbed myself an empty wine glass and just gave up. Let’s see what happens, perhaps he needs liquid courage to discuss what happened?

‘’So how are you Channie?’’ I asked and looked over while setting everything up on the table. ‘’I’m good now and you?’’ I replied ‘’Same for me, we haven’t really talked since…’’ I stopped and wanted to see what he would bring up, what he still remembers perhaps more than me. I was curious. ‘’Yeah… I’m sorry for how I behaved that night. I don’t know why I responded so angry and got in the way like that it was not my place to do so…’’ he apologized and I just stared at him confused like what the fuck happened? I didn’t want him to know that I was so drunk that I couldn’t remember what exactly happened so I responded ‘’Why did you get so angry?’’ softly. ‘’I don’t know, you and Felix were flirting and I couldn’t help myself but be annoyed about it’’ he directly stated. ‘’I WAS FLIRTING WITH FELIX?!’’ I blurted out without even thinking, I was shocked. ‘’YES’’ he replied giving me the side eye. ‘’Okay but still why the anger? Nothing happened right?’’ I replied confused and still in need of some answers. ‘’You don’t remember do you?’’ he said still giving me the side eye. ‘’Honestly I don’t remember what happened, just that we had a fight and stopped speaking to each other for awhile…’’ I replied guilty as charged. ‘’Well it doesn’t matter anyway. You can do whatever you want. It was not my place to have acted like that.’’ He sighed and looked at the movie that has been playing off since we started the conversation. ‘’Behaved like what, is Felix oke?’’ I asked worried. ‘’Felix is fine, I apologized to him also…a while back ago actually since I work with him and must see him almost daily.’’ He kept staring at the TV. ‘’Channie, did you hurt Felix?’’ I asked worried again. ‘’Perhaps’’ he replied. ‘’Why?’’ I asked again. ‘’Well I don’t know oke, can you just take my apology please?’’ he sighed and looked at me stopping his stare towards the TV. ‘’Yeah, oke…’’ I answered and filled my glass of wine and starting to drink. We started to focus on the movie again and he started to move around ‘’I have to pee’’ he said and walked towards the bathroom. I looked at the bottle and it was empty so I also walked towards the kitchen. As I grabbed another bottle of red wine and got some snacks I’ve noticed Banchang changing his position on the couch and sat next to the placement where I was sitting before. I didn’t think much of it and sat where I was before. ‘’So..’’ he said while placing his hand on my leg. ‘’Yeah?’’ I replied dazed. ‘’I missed you’’ he whispered softly me barely hearing him. ‘’You missed me?’’ I asked to confirm what he just said to me. ‘’Yes…’’ he glared embarrassed at the floor. ‘’I missed you too..’’ I replied with a smile. ‘’I’m glad we are good again..’’ as I placed my hand on top of his he looked at me and started to come closer to me.

As we looked at each other he started to kiss me and I kissed him back. While his hand on my leg started to move towards my thigh I let him, I just couldn’t help myself it felt good. He started to shift his kiss and lips towards my neck and changing the position on the couch were he laid on top of me and was between my legs. Touching me, intensely moving his hand from my thigh to my breast while kissing my neck. I couldn’t keep my moan in and it came out ‘’Channie….’’  As I didn’t know what to say except his nickname he started to kiss me again. Slipping his tongue around mine to shut me down for whatever I wanted to say. And I let him.

[just---keep---simming]

Zest - Autumn 2

We're back in Del Sol Valley for the last rotation of Autumn 2, where we join Peaches and Johnny Zest, along with teenager Axel and toddler Hendrix.

Hendrix is as cute as ever in his ducky PJs, and has a sophisticated palate for a three year old, with his eggs benedict for breakfast.

Then it's off to bed with a story from Dad.

Since Dad wants to head out to blow off some steam tonight. Peaches stays home with Hendrix and Axel while Johnny and Lilith hit the city for some karaoke. The bar is quiet when Johnny first arrives, so he enjoys a quiet beer before Lilith shows up and they head over to the karaoke machines.

After Lilith heads home, Johnny is surprised to bump into his younger brother Malcolm. Johnny is estranged from his family, and that has included Malcolm - this is the first time he's seen the kid, now a teenager, since he left home. They briefly reconnect but Johnny gets the sense a close relationship with his brother is probably off the cards. He doesn't understand anything about Johnny's estrangement from the family, and has clearly swallowed their parent's version of events. Still, it was nice to briefly reacquaint himself with at least one member of his family.

Back home, poor Axel isn't having an easy time of his mid-teen years. A mood swing hits just as Angela Pleasant drops by for one of her regular visits. Mortified, he slinks off to his room to hide under the covers.

Thankfully, his horror at all things his life has passed by the morning of Harvestfest.

And he's able to join his mother and stepdad for a celebratory breakfast.

Then, with Peaches' blessing, he makes his way down to Willow Creek to meet with Adrienne Pancakes. His unrequited crush on Marion from last season has finally passed, and young Axel has come to appreciate what was right in front of him all the time - his childhood friend, now a rather lovely young lady. While her father, Bob, hovers in the background, laying ground rules and supervising awkwardly, Axel confesses his feelings to Adrienne.

After Bob reluctantly withdraws, they share a tentative first kiss. How sweet!

Axel's feeling pretty good about himself and life in general the next morning as he heads off to school!

Where, despite day-dreaming about Adrienne for most of the day, he does manage to get some work done in his social studies class.

As well as some studying for exams. The early stages of planning for futures are underway for the current teens of the save - Adrienne already knows she's going to university, and Axel is starting to wonder about heading there himself, ideally on a football scholarship.

Meanwhile, back home, Peaches finds time around toddler caregiving duties to squeeze in some yoga.

While Hendrix is adorable.

The next afternoon, Axel and Adrienne head back to Thirftea again, this time most definitely on a date.

Adrienne is flattered to receive a promposal from Axel this time around, and accepts.

He and Hendrix chat about it over dinner that night. The two half-brothers have a good relationship despite their age difference.

Then, it's time for Axel to catch up with his Dad again, as he promised when he moved in full-time with Peaches and Johnny. They meet at a sports bar in Windenburg this time around, and enjoy an evening of father-son time. John is gratified when Axel asks his advice about Adrienne, and suggests he goes all out to make sure prom is magical for them both.

Axel shows his appreciation by absolutely smashing John at Foosball.

Back home, Hendrix is living the good life of toddlerhood - playing, flashcards, parents pretending to be airplanes.

Johnny is here too, and spending a little more time jamming on the guitar these days. Rocketing to the top of your career on like day two of work really leaves you some extra time for hobbies.

And while the adults live their cosy, grown up lives, it's time for the teens to head to prom!

Axel and Adrienne have both been to prom before, but this is their first time going with a date. It's pretty nice.

Axel tries to follow John's advice and sweep Adrienne off her feet.

Then, they get together with a bunch of the others and head to the pier for their after party.

Adrienne and Axel pick the ferris wheel to ride, and while they're circling slowly over the pier, Axel asks Adrienne to be his girlfriend. She accepts!

Which leads to the perfect romantic end to their perfectly romantic evening.

And that's a pretty nice place to leave the Zest family at the end of their second autumn. Axel is going through a phase of being embarrassed by all adults, but otherwise things are idyllic in the valley for this charming family!

[biggest-stupidhead]

So I was wondering if I could request something like Levi x reader where they get into an argument right before a expedition. The reader gets hurt on that expedition and Levi feels guilty. Kinda thinking angst and a bit of fluff at the end c:

I loved writing this sm! thanks for sending it in anon!

Summary: You grapple with Levi before a stressful mission.

Word Count: 2.3K

__

"Behave yourselves and enjoy this 'cause it cost the corps two months worth of our budget!" The chef announced as plates of meat were uncovered in front of the soldiers. Your mouth watered as you watched Hange slice the thick slabs of meat on the platter.

"Worth every penny." She hummed as she slapped a piece onto her plate. Levi rolled his eyes and looked up at Erwin, who was sat across from him. You elbowed him and shot him a dazzling grin.

"Lighten up cap, it's not often that we get to enjoy this stuff."

"It'll likely be the last for most." Levi grunted and your grin fell from your lips.

"So macabre." Hange snickered as she gnawed on a piece of meat.

"It's the truth." Levi's cold eyes were locked on Erwin who nodded in agreement.

"Well I plan on savoring it." You quipped, popping a piece into your mouth and chewing it dramatically. Levi scoffed and crossed his arms, ignoring his full plate.

"-Sasha! That's my hand!" Jean cried out, you had to cover your mouth in a futile attempt at hiding your amusement. Sasha had her teeth sank into his hand as Connie desperately tried to pry her from Jean.

"Sasha! Don't make me knock you out!" Connie pleaded as he caught her in a choke hold.

"Damn kids." Levi growled, as he glared at the teens from across the room.

"They're having fun! You should try it sometime." Hange kicked Levi under the table and you chuckled around another mouthful of food.

"I'm good." Levi's lip curled in disgust as Sasha was wrestled to the ground, the two boys finally subduing her.

"They're young, let them figure it out themselves." You assured him, gently resting a hand on his elbow. His eyes softened for a fraction of a second at this. Your touch was fleeting before your hand fell onto the bench between the two of you. He sighed loudly, finally grabbing his fork and picking at his potatoes.

The atmosphere was warm and made you feel so...whole. Even if you knew that Levi was right, tonight was likely the last time you and your comrades would dine together. But even if that was the case, you would be grateful for this happy memory. The peace was short lived however. Jean and Eren broke out into a fist fight, a rather pitiful one at that.

Within a few short minutes, the two were a sweaty mess, both huffing and staggering as they held their fists up. Levi got to his feet and stalked towards them, a deep scowl etched on his face.

With only two blows, the pair was on the floor, clutching their stomachs as Levi towered over them.

"Go to bed." He ordered. Jean vomited and Levi's lip curled in disgust.

"And clean that shit up." He added curtly as the dining hall murmured, recovering from the excitement. Sasha whimpered from her post as she struggled against her binds, feet kicking loudly against the wooden floors. As the soldiers filed out of the room, you made your way to her to free her. She sighed in relief as the gag was pulled off her mouth and the ropes slashed.

"Thanks miss." She gushed as she rolled her tense wrists.

"Don't mention it." You smiled as you reached into your pocket and passed her a loaf of bread.

"Did I mention how much I love you?" She grinned as she accepted the food and dove in for a hug.

"Actually, I don't think that you have." You giggled as she began eating the bread behind your shoulder as she hugged you.

"mf, well I sure do!" She exclaimed around a full mouth.

"You'd better go catch up with the others." You suggested with a firm pat on her back. She stood and jogged out of the dining hall, half eaten loaf in hand.

"You're too soft with them." Levi scolded from the doorway. You waved him off as you joined him, walking side by side out of the large room.

"They need it." You assured him, gently brushing your shoulder against his.

"The last thing they need is to be coddled." Levi argued.

"Levi, I think that sometimes you forget that they're fifteen." You paused outside of his office, leaning against the threshold as he unlocked the door.

"I haven't forgotten." He mumbled as he pushed the door open.

"Okay." You rolled your eyes, brushing off his especially sour mood.

"Don't you have formation plans to look over?" He asked as you followed him into his office.

"I thought we could go over them together." You shrugged, dropping down onto his couch.

"I'm not looking at them now."

"Then why should I be? Do you think I can't comprehend a simply formation we've used for years?" You were half teasing, but there was only so much crap you could take from him.

"Sometimes it seems that way." He agreed, falling into his desk chair. Your eyes narrowed and the food that had felt so good in your stomach moments before seemed too heavy.

"Why are you extra shitty tonight?" You asked even though you knew the answer. He always got moody the days leading up to missions.

"I think you know why." He looked up from his papers to shoot you a pointed glare.

"You need a nap." You attempted to rein in the easy banter, but Levi was persistent.

"I need you to get the fuck out of my office." His words stung, and you barely caught the hurt expression before it crossed your face.

"I'll see you in the morning." You said as you stalked across the small room and out of the door, closing it softly behind you. Levi groaned once he was sure you wouldn't hear him, his head hit his desk hard as he tried to fight off the migraine that had been creeping up on him since dinner.

__

As promised, the next morning he saw you. Or rather, he caught glimpses of you as you readied your horse and helped the younger soldiers make last minute preparations. The day ahead was going to be long and taxing. Mostly comprised of traveling out of the safety of the walls. Erwin had allowed for just enough time for the scouts to travel, timing it just so their departure from the gates would be well after sunset.

His morning was shittier than usual, Hange had been annoying, and Erwin had been stubborn as ever, continuing to dismiss his lack of an arm and insisting on joining the corps on the mission. So when you didn't brush up against him and crack one of your shit jokes during the long ride, he knew that he had royally fucked things up.

He still hadn't spoken to you when the lifts hoisted the scouts over the wall and into titan territory, or when the lanterns were the only light that guided them through thick trees.

When the first rays of sunlight fell onto the abandoned city of shiganshina, you stood stoically beside Hange and Moblit. He had missed his window, now it was time to focus on the mission. He could only hope that both himself and you survived.

__

As the morning wore on and the battle turned from bad to worse, you knew that chances of survival became slimmer. The only thing you could do was trust in Hange, Erwin and Armin to form a plan to defeat the Reiner and the beast titan. The colossal had yet to show his face, making you more uneasy. The small victory of bringing down Reiner was short lived as a barrel flew over the wall and the sounds of distance explosions echoed through the walls.

"Bertolt is in there!" Armin screamed as you watched the barrel fly overhead.

"What do we do!?" Connie cried as you flew through the rooftops.

"If he transforms, there will be nothing we can do!" Armin yelled over the wind. Eren's titan jogged ahead as you made your way towards the center of town.

"We have to do something!" You yelled, desperate for a solution. Luckily he didn't immediately transform, instead rushing to Reiner's side and addressing him first.

"I'm going to regroup with Hange!" You said, as Bertolt zipped towards you.

"Hurry!" Jean yelled after you as you flew away, pouring on the speed.

You reached Hange's team to find them struggling with some dysfunctional thunder spears.

"(Y/n)! I'm glad you made it! Was that Bertolt inside of there?" Moblit asked as you landed heavily on the tiled rooftop.

"Yeah, it's him. We don't have long before he transforms. We've got to get back to the kids!" You informed them and they all leapt off of the rooftop, rushing back in the direction that you had come from. You only made it about half way there before a blinding mushroom cloud and a clap of thunder overpowered your senses. Hange reached out for you, snagging your wrist. Moblit pushed the two of you down and you screamed as the blast took him in a blinding light. You and Hange fell down a well, a mess of limbs and tangled gear. You couldn't tell if it was your blood or hers as the two of you laid motionless in the shallow well.

"Hange!" Your ears rang as you shook her desperately. Her face was covered in blood, you could tell that her eye was missing already. You began clawing through your pockets in search of gauze, the taste of iron made you want to gag. With shaky hands, you wrapped her head, covering her exposed eye socket. She woke moments later, hands shooting out to grab you.

"Your face." She groaned, hand falling to rest on your chin as she slowly sat up.

"What's wrong with-" You froze mid sentence when you realized that was why you tasted blood. She dug into her own pocket and produced a needle and some suture. She sewed the large gash, which ran from the apple of your cheek to the corner of your mouth.

"We need to check for survivors." Hange grunted as she bit off the remaining suture, you nodded in agreement.

__

As you stood on the rooftop staring at the two lifeless bodies, you knew immediately who had to be chosen. Hange clutched Mikasa to her chest as the girl cried, tears running off her pale cheeks.

"Levi." You whimpered, his bloodied face turned, eyes wild and tortured.

"Get back, I'm giving the serum to Erwin." He ordered. Floch hauled Eren away from Armin, who's charred skin smoked in the late afternoon sun.

"You can't." You cried, tears stinging the wound on your cheek.

"I will." Levi growled.

"Now leave!" He pulled the syringe out of the case and filled it with the opaque liquid and your chest squeezed painfully.

"But-" Jean's hand closed tightly around your bicep as he began pulling you towards the edge of the roof.

"Let's go." Jean's voice was strangled, and you realized that all of you felt this loss deeply. He needed you to be an adult here, needed some reassurance. So you leaned into him and allowed him to pull you off of the roof, wrapped securely in his arms. As you hugged him and Connie a few rooftops away, the sound of a titan crashing through buildings made you look up. Levi landed near you, head hung low and empty syringe in hand.

The thin beast shoved the screaming boy down its gullet and you gasped when you saw its face. You knew it was Armin, and you felt ashamed at the surge of relief that flowed through you.

__

The sun beat down on your shoulders as you sat beside Sasha on the wall. Levi and Hange had gone with Mikasa and Eren about an hour ago, leaving you in charge of the remaining kids.

"Here they come!" Connie called, pointing excitedly at the group as they used the last of their gas to scale the wall. Levi didn't bother joining the group, instead favoring to walk in the opposite direction. You rushed after him, legs pumping as you ran across the wall. You snagged his wrist and tugged on it gently.

"Levi." You had no words, only able to form his name in a raspy voice.

"I should have chosen Erwin." He said numbly, too weak to even try pulling free of your grasp.

"It's over. We reclaimed Maria. You made a hard choice, I can't say it was the right one but.." Your words failed you as he turned to face you. You had never seen him look so hopeless, lips glued into a frown and eyes searching for validation.

"You did what had to be done." You assured him as you took a step closer, the tips of your boots touching his.

"Did I?" His brows knitted together as your hand slipped into his.

"Yes. You did, you gave us a chance." You slowly leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him. You were surprised when he melted into you, his body pressed close, breath tickling the skin behind your ear. Your hands gripped the harness on his back in an attempt to ground the two of you. He sighed and breathed you in, his own hands coming to rest at the small of your back.

"We'll figure this out." You said into his neck, lips brushing the skin there unintentionally.

"I'm glad....that you survived." He said into your messy hair, which was falling from it's hold. His hand slid from the small of your back to rest between your shoulder blades.

"Me too." You let out a small laugh half sob, allowing a few more tears to slide down your cheeks.

"Let's address those shitty kids." He said as he pulled back, and you nodded, giving him a watery smile as the two of you fell into a matched pace once more.

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Fourteen)

A/N- I think I can finally feel this little Mycroft fic coming to a close.. If I were to guess, I’d wager I shall finish before chapter twenty, but who knows! Thank you for reading so far! Enjoy this little one! French translations available at the end of the text.

Word Count- 3.6k

After dinner had settled, Mycroft received a text from Anthea saying she planned to pop over later in the evening. Anthea had mentioned that she had a briefcase of paperwork that Mycroft was due to read through before heading back to office- though she assured him he wouldn't have to start until next week; she was simply going to be unavailable until he returned back to work as she had some ends to tie up elsewhere. As the evening had drawn on, yourself and Mycroft had elected to have another stroll through St James' Park in your two and a half hours until Anthea's arrival- though this time he had promised to not ban the general public from setting foot on the precious grass.

"Not embarrassed to be seen with me anymore then?" You teased, swinging your clasped hands between you childishly. "Really going to let everyone and their mums watch us walk through a park? Or is this some elaborate version of trialling exhibitionism?"

"Utterly pestiferous, aren't you?" He quipped, halting the hand swinging to keep them tight between you- unrelenting October air can be a right bastard for numb fingers. "I'll have you know, I have.. permitted.. the public to be in our company purely for reasonings based on my attire. Far better suited this time."

"Works all the same to me. Just means I'm the only one who gets to see your gorgeous arse in jeans- definitely not going to complain on that front. I doubt you'd appreciate being groped in public.. although that suit.." You drawled, making a point of angling your head to look at the back of Mycroft's legs as you walked.

"One finger so much as grazes my bottom in such a space and you'll find yourself incredibly sorry."

"Ooh, I do love it when you go for the power stance. Makes me want to grab you even more." You made a pinching motion with your spare hand and winked.

"Minx."

"And degrading? Your dominance shall make me weak at the knees in any given moment." You thought for a moment. You had to ask, you just had to. He was the one that had brought it up anyway. "Speaking of such tomfoolery.. About this morning.." Mycroft's cheeks dusted pink at the memory- though if you had asked him, he'd have blamed it on the cold.

"What about it?" Immediately thoughts had raced through the Holmes' head- doubting his abilities, that you had secretly hated it and had been regretting it since.

"You said you'd done some research." Good Lord. Mycroft thought this was leading in a somehow worse direction. "I have to ask.. What research? I know it wouldn't have been straight up pornography as, despite the thought of you watching that on your government official laptop being one of the hottest things I could imagine, you and I both know it's hardly suitable for schooling.." He was right, this was worse. "I'm just intrigued at.. how else.. you could have researched."

"Take that thought of textbooks out of your mind because I can assure you I am not that incompetent." He began, holding your hand a little tighter as the embarrassing truth began to come to surface. "It hadn't been.. direct.. research, if you will. Just old pieces of information that I brought back to the surface from my slightly younger days.."

"..Porn magazines?"

"Heavens, no!" Mycroft seemed frankly appalled at your suggestion and wished he had emptied the park this evening, for the look the passing couple gave at your conversation made him wish the ground would swallow him whole. "I simply used to.. read a lot more before I crawled up the government ranks. Some novels remain in my personal library that vary from what I read in my late teens to until my mid twenties. I simply.. outgrew them." Accepted my fate of literature being as close to human interaction I'd achieve and decided to sulk for a little while.

"Novels such as?" Mycroft took a breath.

"There was the likes of 'Forever' by Judy Blume.. Erica Jong's 'Fear of Flying'.." He tipped his chin a little higher, avoided your gaze as much as he could. So far you hadn't recognised any of the names, until.. "Though if I had to choose a favourite, I was quite fond of the works of D.H. Lawrence- I've four different editions of 'Lady Chatterley's Lover' hidden amongst my collections."

"Book porn!"

"HUSH!" He stopped his movements, whipping round to cover your mouth with his hand. "It's nothing quite so vulgar! The genre is typically known better as.. erotica."

"You used to read book po- erotica?" He nodded. "Somehow that's more attractive than the idea of you watching.. televised erotica? Since the P word is banned apparently?"

"Don't be absurd."

"Definitely. Could just imagine you sitting there in your uni dorm, holding a copy of Descartes' Epistemological Philosophy but secretly encased inside was the forbidden affair of Lady Chatterley and Mellors." You pulled on his hand to keep walking. Mycroft elected to ignore how horribly accurate that was. The amount of books he had defaced to appear innocent was appalling.

"You've read it too?"

"Of course I've bloody read it- it's incredible! Though you've got cheek calling me a minx after this discovery- filthy bastard." You teased. "Is that why you were so against the degrading comment? Fancy us more a Venus in Furs type?" His hand became clammy in yours. "I'm kidding, I'm not into that slave stuff either." But you did suddenly turn you both around to head back to the gates closest to home.

"And where are we going?"

"Back so that you can show me your secret erotic place!"

"..Y/N.."

"..Yes I'm aware that sounded worse than I expected and shouldn't have been shouted out in a public setting." You smiled awkwardly at the old lady on the bench who just got an earful of half your conversation. "What are you going to do about it? Punish me?"

"Y/N! One more comment like that in.. such a place.. and you shall find yourself in cuffs by an Officer ready to throw you in a truck and left to fend for yourself in Calais."

"Oh, le jeu de rôle coquin maintenant? C'était de quel livre, Officier?" Mycroft cheeks burned as he picked up the pace to drag you from the public eye. "That was your fault, you chose France."

"If you can just keep your mouth shut for the next five minutes until we're back home, we still have just under two hours until Anthea's visit.." He spoke, leaning down to whisper the next part in your ear. "Cela laisse tout le temps de parcourir les étagères et de refaire les activités de ce matin si vous le souhaitez.."

"Good Lord, I've turned you into a whore."

"Tais toi!"

"A rude whore."

"If you don't wa-"

"Oh, I never said that."

---

As promised, Mycroft did show you his hidden little collection of novels. Though the order of the promise had been rearranged slightly as he'd had you pinned to the door the moment it shut behind you. The confidence that had grown in Mycroft in such a short time felt just as erotic as his actions, if you were completely honest. Only a few days ago, the very prospect of Mycroft allowing you to remove his clothes, to tangle nude in his overly expensive bed sheets, would have seemed utterly impossible- though now it was your (utterly fantastic) reality. You'd both just left the heated bliss of the shower and collapsed back on the bed in your towels before you spoke again.

"I may have to embarrass you in public more often." You grinned, turning your head to face the man beside you.

"I'd rather you didn't.."

"You can't tell me you didn't enjoy that.. Frankly it sounded like you very much enjoyed that."

"It wasn't the humiliation, that was awful and you deserve to be deported." Mycroft let out a laugh, looking back at you.

"Oh? Pray tell, what was it? I knew the confidence was growing but this was very spontaneous." He looked back up at the ceiling, arching his head in such a way you had perfect access to his neck. Perfect access you were not going to take for granted. The pair of you were acting like lovestruck teenagers but Mycroft's neck was so sensitive it would have been a waste not to hear his little noises for one moment more. Your tongue traced the edge of his collarbone, dipping into the crevice and along his jugular, stopping only to nibble at the purple circle you had left only moments before. The quiet hums and 'ah's only spurred you on more until he turned, raising his hand to press two fingers against your lips. "Well..?"

"French. It was the French." You grinned and licked at his fingers to move them.

"Oh, really?" You drawled your words. "How long since you've fantasised about the language of love?" Squeezing at his cheek playfully.

"I noticed that second day you were here. I swore at you in Latin and you told me to switch to French- so I told you you'd be the death of me. Then you said-"

"Et pourtant tu serais perdu sans moi." You whispered, fighting back the urge to kiss him as he let out a low hum.

"Mmm, precisely that. I knew first that you were utterly correct- that I should find myself lost without you- and I was a little terrified. And then.. Well, then I finally understood why French is considered such a damned romantic language."

"I'll remember that. The only other time I get to use my French is at the Lestrade house. Though even there it's limited to Greg's Da giving me some special French-blend coffee and me calling him a 'beau, bel homme'."

"Need I be jealous?"

"He's set into his eighties and thought Jeeves and Wooster were 'that posh Holmes' butlers', so you shouldn't panic too much. Though his freshly made croissants are borderline enough for me to beg for his hand in marriage." Mycroft chuckled softly and casted his gaze back to the ceiling. "So.. Is the French just a sexual thing or?" He shook his head almost immediately.

"I don't think so. It's just such a beautiful language, and being spoken by you makes it even more so. It's far more than that." You felt your own cheeks burn a little.

"Not just the kinky officer stuff then?" A joke to settle, let your flushed cheeks cool. He shook his head again. "So what would you do if I switched to nicer things? If I started to say.." You edged up on your elbows, lowering your voice to a whisper as you pressed your lips to his cheek. "Je vous aime." His other cheek. "Je vous aime.." His forehead. "Toi homme magnifique." His nose. "Vous secrètement petit bâtard pervers." Your lips couldn't quite touch his before he laughed and pushed you off, rolling himself to hover over you, towel threatening to fall.

"Then I would.." A knock at the front door. "Hire an assassin to eradicate my PA for turning up early." Mycroft rushed to his feet, realising he had no time to fully suit up again and hastily pulling on a pair of cotton trousers and fumbled with a button up- Anthea had seen far worse. You followed suit, hoisting on some leggings and throwing on a t-shirt that you didn't realise was one you'd bought Mycroft until you felt it hang to your knees. Glancing at the clock, you bit back a smile.

"Uh.. Technically she's ten minutes late." Mycroft had just got his second sock on when he looked at the clock himself.

"I'm blaming you for this! All of that French talk.. I could have been ready an hour ago!"

"Don't blame me, you're the one that invited me into the shower! I told you I could have waited but you were fairly insistent." You opened the bedroom door and ushered him downstairs.

"Yes well you- You just.." He stopped mid-stair and pointed a finger at you. "You win this time, but never again. Tempting me into such carnal desires."

"You didn't need much tempting, darling." Mycroft searched in his brain for a retort of some kind but quickly fell short. Blast you and your mind being as quick as his own.

---

When Mycroft answered the front door a whole seven minutes after she had knocked, it took all of Anthea's internal power to not cast a teasing grin at the sight before her. Her boss opened the door looking completely and utterly debauched! The buttons on his shirt were out by one, his hair was damp and all over the place.. Then you surfaced from behind him in a shirt that was inside out and hair that was almost dripping down your neck.

"Apologies.. Did I interrupt-"

"Not at all." Mycroft cut in, motioning with his hand for Anthea to follow in. "We simply had.. Forgotten about your visit and was preparing to retire to bed. It's been a long day." As Anthea wandered to make her way into the dining room, she plucked at the label poking from the side of your shirt.

"Yes, I can see that." She smirked. In your scramble to correct your attire, you noticed Mycroft's haphazard attempt of buttoning his shirt and pointed it out as Anthea disappeared. It wasn't that either of you were particularly hiding the fact you were together, you simply just didn't fancy Mycroft's PA to be under the impression that you had spent the last two hours engaged in.. salacious.. acts. Mainly because her impression would be utterly correct. With wardrobe malfunctions rectified, the pair of you followed the woman and sat down at the table.

"Tea?" You offered her, trying to ignore the fact that she had clearly pieced everything together. Anthea shook her head and placed the briefcase on the table.

"No thank you, planning to be out of here as quick as I can. Partly because I have a flight to Austria to catch, partly because I don't want to get flashed if I overstay my welcome." Mycroft coughed away his embarrassment and gestured to the case. "Just a few files to catch up on before your return. Like I said, you shouldn't have to look through them til you've got a few days left- what with the rate that you read." She looked at you now. "Have you seen it? Honestly, with the speed he reads at I wouldn't be surprised if he spent little time doing anything but reading until he became too busy for it." Now you tried, you really did, but the snigger that got caught by your hand was hardly easy to miss. Oh Anthea, if only you knew.

"Yes! Well, I shall see that I get right to it once needed, thank you!" Mycroft interjected, hoping with all his might that you wouldn't say anything in front of Anthea about his secret reading endeavours. "Would that be all, Anthea? I shall see you out." Typically Mycroft would have felt an ounce of guilt for trying to get rid of his PA so quickly, but he had felt so mortified that he was contemplating picking up the dining chair and putting her outside himself.

"Of course, Mr Holmes." She smiled, standing up from the chair she had barely sat down in and heading to the front door. As she stood on the doorstep, she turned back to her employer once more. "I'm glad, this is good for you." She spoke, offering a single squeeze of his hand as he shook hers. Mycroft simply nodded, clearing his throat.

"Yes, well.."

"Just don't use peonies or roses, far too cliché."

"I beg your pardon?"

"For the wedding bouquet- think outside of the box."

"Goodbye, Anthea." With another grin, Anthea said her goodbyes and made her way back to the car. Mycroft closed the door and leant against it for a moment, jumping a little when he saw you were stood behind him.

"She's right, peonies and roses are cliché. I've always thought sunflowers would be cool." You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Perhaps. But we shall cross that bridge when it comes to it, thank you." You fought the urge to tease into that.. And lost the fight.

"When, huh? Not if? Should I start writing the guestbook?"

"You're insufferable." Mycroft forced on a frown, tutted in your general direction.

"And yet oddly endearing."

"If you say so."

"Oh, I know so... We could force Sherlock to be our flower boy." Mycroft's façade cracked quickly and he let out a laugh at the thought.

"If we gave Doctor Watson the same role, they could be strongly encouraged to wear matching flower crowns and carry delightful woven baskets."

"Evil. Beautifully done, good sir." You stuck out your hand to shake on the hilarious prospect before nudging the man up the stairs. "Now, you go get ready for bed and I'll bring us up some tea."

---

The following morning, Mycroft and yourself went downstairs and were welcomed to two small bags on the kitchen island- one addressed to you, and one to Mycroft that clearly stated he wasn't to open it in company. You didn't dwell too much on the second- it was likely just some boring government thing anyway- and picked at the tape that sealed the first bag shut. Inside was a note covering a box. Taking out the note, you read aloud:

'Assumed Mr Holmes wouldn't have mentioned his only allergy as he considers it a weakness but it only feels relevant now. I figured my chance of being fired would lessen if it were in your name and you were the one to open it.. Enjoy- A'

Mycroft glanced up.

"You have an allergy?" You opened the bag back up to try and fish out the box.

"Only to latex, but I can't imagine why she ment-... oh." You threw your head back and laughed. "She didn't. Please tell me my personal assistant did not buy what I think is in your hands." You threw the box in his direction, laughed harder as he looked horrified. "Good Lord.." Mycroft pinched at the bridge of his nose, his face burning red.

"Good ol' Anthea. Jobs including, but not limited to, helping control the governments of the world, protecting Mycroft in foreign places, occasionally returning dry cleaning and, apparently, buying a box of latex-free condoms for fully grown adults." The humour rose within you again, Mycroft eventually joining as you dissolved in stitches over the counter. "I don't think I can face her again."

"You?! I work with her daily!" Mycroft's amusement thankfully outweighed his humiliation and he threw the box back in the bag with a grin. "She's incredibly lucky that she's a damn good PA, else she would find it a struggle returning home from Austria. Indefinitely."

"At the very least, she's saved us a job for when we get there. But, either way, that was nothing short of hilarious and absolutely the furthest thing I expected to see before breakfast. Just go wait in the front room and put on This Morning- don't pull that face, either; you like Phil and Holly just as much- I'll pop us some toast in and give the brave woman a text that conveys every emotion that ran through my mind."

"And what text would that be?"

"'Fuck you, but thanks' feels appropriate."

"I concur." Mycroft headed into the living room with the other bag in hand. Settling on the sofa and putting on the programme, he inched his fingernail beneath the tape and pulled out another small box with a note- part of him was initially concerned it would be some flavoured lubricant to match the condoms, but thankfully Anthea had at least some self control. The box was smaller and rattled when he shook it. He unfolded the note and read it.

'Consider this a half apology for the first.. Took the liberty of getting this made as I feel your situation is progressing nicely. Ready when you need it- A.'

Mycroft opened the box, tipped the contents into his hand. His thumb traced the ridged edge slowly, flipping the piece of metal over in his palm. Mycroft honestly couldn't imagine what it would feel like when you go back to your own flat in less than a fortnight- he didn't particularly like trying to imagine it either- and yet he couldn't bring himself to waltz into the kitchen at this very moment and offer you a key to his home; suggest permanent residence.

'Ready when you need it'

He read the note again, tucking the key in his inside pocket and resealing the box in the bag as though he hadn't touched it at all before you walked in. He watched you for a moment that morning. Watched you laugh as Alison Hammond accidentally pushed a man into a river in Liverpool, as you peeled the crusts from your toast the same way you always had done. Mycroft wasn't an idiot- he knew with work commitments especially that shared mornings would be rare- and he wanted, for that reason, to share as many with them as you could.

Maybe 'ready when you need it' would be a lot sooner than he could have expected.

.

French translations- though I am rusty so I’m hoping these were right and I haven’t accidentally badmouthed someone’s mum.. Anyway!

"Oh, le jeu de rôle coquin maintenant? C'était de quel livre, Officier?" - “Oh, a naughty role-playing game now? What book was that from, officer?”

"Cela laisse tout le temps de parcourir les étagères et de refaire les activités de ce matin si vous le souhaitez.." - “That leaves plenty of time to redo this morning’s activities, if you wish.”

“Tais toi!” - “Shut up!”

“Je vous aime.. Je vous aime.. Toi homme magnifique..  Vous secrètement petit bâtard pervers.” - “I love you.. I love you.. You magnificent man.. You secretly perverted little bastard.”

[dreamescapeswriting]

Burnt ~ MYG [Request]

WORD COUNT: 2.8K

PAIRING: Yoongi x Reader

GENRE: established-relationship, fluffy ending, running into ex, mentions of burning by accident, 

A/N: Again I used a wheel of names to select the member so that it was fair, we got Yoongi this time so I hope you enjoy it!!

It wasn't often that you and Yoongi got to enjoy some one on one time together so going out for the morning dog walks you did every day was something that you cherished. An hour-long walk just the three of you as you spoke about anything and everything that came to mind, catching up and spending time with the one guy you loved and your dog. The two of you had made it a tradition that you would go together deciding that since Yoongi was always so busy with something in his life this was his designated time for you and only you. Of course, you spent other times together but this was always a for-sure fire plan, there was no way out of it, it was always going to happen unless it was pouring it down with rain. This morning it was bright and early, the grass that you walked Min Holly on was crisp, the air was fresh and there was almost no one around besides the other people that were walking their dogs. Yoongi and you walked hand in hand as you took Holly over a field that wasn't fair from your home, 

"I was thinking of cooking dinner for you and the boys, Friday night?" You suggested as you threw a ball for Holly she began sprinting after it wildly while you stood with Yoongi under a tree, 

"Sure. We should try and make that cake they loved the last time they were over," He suggested as he gently took your hand in his, stroking his thumb over your knuckles and smiling happily as he looked at you. He never would have thought he could be this happy again but you brought out the best in him, he hadn't been this happy since his last relationship which had ended on pretty good terms. 

"Jimin loved it, even if it was falling apart," You laughed softly, bending down to pick up the ball that Holly had dropped by your feet, you handed over the wet tennis ball to Yoongi who threw it for his dog once again, going further than before. 

"Jimin loves everything you make for him, he swears by your cooking," Yoongi chuckled, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your body enjoying the feeling of standing this close to you. Laying his head down on your shoulder he hummed in satisfaction of the silence that surrounded you. All that could be heard was the occasional car passing on a nearby road and the birds that were waking up in all of the trees, it was more relaxing than ever.

"I wonder what's taking Holly so long to get that ball," He mumbled a few moments later when he realised Holly hadn't come bounding back over to you as he usually would, ball in his mouth. 

"Holly?" You called out, patting your legs as you both began wandering over in the direction he was last seen running in, calling out his name as the both of you waited for some kind of sign that Holly was around there somewhere.

"Holly?" Yoongi cried out as you walked down the back of some trees that were heading towards a forest-like area, there was Holly rolled over on her back and getting belly rubs from another person who was dressed in a hoodie and some jeans. 

"Such a good boy, aren't you?" You heard a female voice coo as you approach her and your dog with Yoongi, worrying slightly if she was some kind of fan that had decided to stalk out where Yoongi walked Holly. 

"Hey, I'm sorry. He's just overly friendly sometimes, I'm sure he didn't mean to-" Yoongi stopped speaking mid-sentence when he looked up to see his ex-girlfriend sitting there with his dog, all of a sudden it was like he was only there with her and her alone. The rest of the world ceased to exist as they locked eyes for the first time in over six years, you stared at Yoongi wondering why he had suddenly stopped speaking and you glanced over at the female who was staring at him. Aera. You recognised her from the photos you'd found in Yoongi's home studio, she was his ex-girlfriend and the love of his life. Her name literally meant love. The sight of them looking at one another the way they did made your heart sink, he was looking at her as if she was the only woman in the world while she stared at him like it was the last time she ever would.

"Aera this is Y/n, Y/n this is Aera..." Yoongi finally said as he tore his eyes away from her, turning to look at you briefly before his eyes were glued to her once again. You didn't blame him she had been the love of his life for years until up and leaving six years ago to move to a different country, both of them deciding to end the relationship so neither of them had to go through with a terrible long-distance relationship. 

"It's lovely to meet you, I've heard a lot." You told her as you shook her hand, doing your best to seem as polite as possible, just because they had been together all those years ago didn't mean that they would be together again now, right? 

"It's been too long, what are you doing back?" He questioned her as you began to leash Holly back up to his walking gear, stroking the dog that was with Aera as you went down onto the floor. 

"I moved back, I was done with my studying and decided I missed home," She smiled softly at him and then all of a sudden it was as if you were no longer there again, the two of them began conversing back and forth about everything she had been doing over the last few years, catching up as you began a slow walk back home being ignored by your fiancé but you let it slide. He hadn't seen her in years and they had been best friends before they dated, you had nothing to worry about since you trusted him with your life.

"That was nice seeing her for a while," You told Yoongi as you began making breakfast for Holly, hoping to get your fiancé back into conversation with you but his head had been in his phone since getting back home probably letting the boys know who he had seen that morning. 

"Yoongi?" You questioned when he still didn't respond to you, sighing to yourself you kissed the top of his head before leaving to go and get a shower he was probably just stressed with work stuff. 

When you woke up the next morning you expected to roll over and find Yoongi as you usually would but you were created by cold and empty sheets, he was missing with no note left behind to say he had gone into work earlier than expected. 

"Yoongles?" You called out down the stairs as you walked down them, wrapping a dressing gown around your body in case he or the boys were around the house somewhere, it wasn't uncommon for the boys to just let themselves in when they saw fit. As you reached the porch you saw that Yoongi's coat was missing along with Holly's walking gear and Yoongi's walking boots, he'd gone without you? Glancing over at the clock there was no reason for him to have gone without you, the two of you would normally wake up now and walk Holly together. There was a sinking feeling in your gut as you thought about how he and Aera had been texting back and forth all day yesterday, had he gone out with her without telling you? It wouldn't have bothered you if he had just mentioned it to you or even left some kind of note as to where he was. 

Hey, I'll make some breakfast for when you're back if you like? xx Hitting send you waited anxiously for the message to be read but it was left as delivered while you went to shower and do your morning routine before he came home. 

"I made your favourite!" You called out as you saw Yoongi running around the house in a rush, Holly was eating his breakfast in the kitchen while Yoongi had rushed in the house to shower and change for work. It had been a two-hour long walk with Aera which didn't help ease the uneasy feeling you had but you kept your faith in Yoongi, he loved you and you loved him that was all you needed to put your attention on.

"I don't have time to eat, I'll grab something at work." He yelled out as he ran out of the house, into his car before you could even ask if he had enjoyed his walk out there that morning, you stared down at Holly sighing to yourself. 

"Guess it's me and you then," You said to him as you poured him some more water into his bowl. 

It continued on like that all week, Yoongi would go for the morning walks with Aera instead of with you, spending more and more time with her to the point where you felt you hardly saw him unless it was for an hour at night before going to bed but you were reminding yourself that tonight was your night with him and the boys. Friday night dinners together were traditional with him and the boys and everything was perfect, you'd spent all of that day preparing the food, baking desserts and perfecting everything that the boys would be eating that night but no one showed up. As each hour passed and they weren't there you began to grow sick with worry thinking that something had happened to them, calls and texts to each of them were going unanswered but there had been no reports in the media about what possibly could have happened. 

"Here Holly," You called out, pouring some of the food that he was able to eat into his food bowl before cleaning up the dining room, blowing out candles and putting the desserts into the fridge for a later time. It wasn't uncommon that the boys would work so late they lost track of time so you figured that was all that had happened. 

That was until Yoongi walked through the door looking as though he was about to burst, he had chocolate down his chin and behind him was Aera as she struggled to stand him up straight,

"What happened?!" You panicked, rushing over to them as you helped her stand him up, struggling to carry him up the stairs to your shared bedroom. 

"He had a little too much to drink with the boys at my place," Your heart practically stopped beating as you heard where he had been and who he had been with. 

"Your place?" Your voice was strong and it didn't stutter as much as you thought it was going to, she nodded at you not seeing an issue with it. 

"He's been with you all night?" She nodded again, 

"The guys and I have a tradition, meals every Friday and we used to switch who's place we went to...I figured since I was back I could invite them to mine...I asked Yoongi to bring you but he said you were busy." You nodded along with her as she began tucking Yoongi into bed but you stared at him, the subject hadn't even been bought up around you, Yoongi had neglected to mention he was going to cancel your dinner and go to hers instead. In fact, he'd neglected to mention anything as of late as he pushed you away and hung out with Aera more than you. 

"I'll let you get some sleep, it was nice meeting you again," She hugged you before leaving, you heard her lock the door before posting your keys back through the letterbox but your eyes never left Yoongi in his sleeping form. He was sneaking around to hang out with her but why? You trusted him and he knew that he could have just told you where he was going and there would never have been a problem but now it felt as if there was something going on. Something he was hiding.

Time went on and you began to slowly distance yourself more and more from Yoongi, you'd tried getting him to talk to you more but he was working or catching up with Aera, you had no idea how much catching up needed to happen but it was bothering you. It was as if you were no longer a part of his life, just a ghost living in his house as he continued on as everything was normal. 

"Stupid fireplace," You hissed as you tried to get the fireplace in your living room to turn on, it was one of those exceptionally cold nights where you couldn't get warm so sitting by the fire with hot chocolate and a book was something you were going to do. Normally Yoongi would be the one to sort the fireplace out but he was nowhere to be seen so you were left to fend for yourself.

Letting out a smile in relief as the flames finally caught you began to get comfortable on the floor, settling down to read when you heard a crackling noise that didn't sound great but you pushed it aside thinking it was just the fireplace in its old age. 

Guilt swelled up inside of Yoongi as he sat beside you in the hospital bed, he'd gotten a call to say you'd been rushed into emergency services when he was with Aera and he rushed to you. Sitting beside your bed the whole night before and even now, a day later, he was sitting with you. 

"What happened?" Jimin questioned as he walked into the room to see Yoongi watching you, Jimin placed a vase of flowers down onto the nightstand at the bottom of the hospital bed. 

"I was with Aera, she must have tried to light the fireplace," Yoongi explained as he looked at the burns that were on your left leg, it was nothing major but it was still a burn that he could have prevented if he hadn't wasted so much time hanging out with Aera so much. "She's been trying to get me to be with her for weeks and I kept pushing her away," His voice cracked as he began to cry, thinking of all the times he should have been with you. None of this would have happened if he had just been there. 

"I'm sure she'll understand that you wanted some time with Aera," Jimin explained but Yoongi shook his head, 

"There's no excuse for me to leave Y/n. I love her and I just pushed her aside because of what?!" You woke up to him yelling and you whined, turning to look at him you already knew what they were bickering about. 

"She was the love of your life...I didn't want to get in the way," You breathed out as you tried to sit up, hissing in pain as you stopped. 

"You can't move yet, the nurse will need to come and check you over." He whispered as he kissed your lips softly, calling the nurse button and watching Jimin leave the room. 

"I will never, ever leave you again...I was so stupid," He mumbled to himself, beating himself up over something that couldn't have been helped, 

"Yoongi you missed her, I understand if you don't want to be with me anymore..." His eyes shot to you as he shook his head dramatically, 

"Of course I want to be with you, only you!" He cried out, taking your hand in his and smiling, kissing your hands softly.

"Then say those three words," You giggled softly looking into his eyes as he looked back at you, 

"I love you." You smiled even more, leaning forward to kiss him softly, laying back down when the nurse came into the room.

Tagline: @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @taestannie​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @sw33tnight​ @sweeneyblue1​ @innersooya​ @jin-from-the-block​ @acciocriativity​ @mwitsmejk​

[hookingminor]

26 & 35 w josty from the list 1 fluff prompt

35. “Kiss me better.”

already got 26 w another request :(

one / three

-

You ended up joining Tyson in Denver in early August.

He left for his summer training camps or whatever in Toronto about a week after your poolside conversation, and you were surprised to wake up one morning to a text from him only a few days after he touched down in Toronto. He said if you were still interested, he’d be back in Denver after mid-July and that you were always welcome to visit.

After a couple weeks of sporadic texting, mostly Tyson sending you articles on things you needed to see in Denver before you’d even made up your mind, you worked out a time to visit.

Tyson picked you up from the airport, all smiles and sunglasses as he basked in the Denver sunshine. He engulfed you in a friendly hug before taking your bags and throwing it into his back seat.

You expected Tyson to go about the week doing his own thing. You knew he had a strict training regimen and probably had other friends to hang out with, and you didn’t think he’d actually want to do things with you. He had offered his spare bedroom to you and you thought that would be the end of it, but you were sorely mistaken.

The first morning after you woke up in his guest bed, Tyson was waiting for you in his kitchen with a fresh pot of coffee brewing and his best hiking clothes on.

“I thought we could hit up Pike’s Peak today,” he suggested as you poured yourself a cup.

“Oh, you’re coming with me?” You asked, and the smile on Tyson’s face fell.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you backtracked hastily. “I just don’t want to get in the way of your schedule. I’m perfectly capable of getting around by myself if you have other plans.”

“Please, I have nothing else going on,” Tyson replied, a grin tugging at his lips again. “And what kind of host would I be if I didn’t at least show you around?”

And that was that.

The first couple of days were spent doing all the outdoorsy stuff Colorado was known for. You hiked what felt like a million different trails, but you didn’t mind the strenuous work. It was no secret Tyson was in much better shape than you, but he didn’t complain any time you needed to take a break to catch your breath or snap pictures.

Hiking, sightseeing, and hitting up shops were how you spent your days, with and without Tyson. Usually he needed to slip away for a few hours to either go to the arena or do whatever workout he was instructed to, so you spent that time wandering around his neighborhood. You found a nice little cafe with, probably, the best chai latte you’ve ever had.

At night, Tyson took you out to a new restaurant, ranging from expensive sushi to the cheapest, and greasiest, burgers you’ve ever tasted. Though, you did make him dinner one night to thank him for his hospitality. You got the feeling he didn’t do a lot of cooking in his free time if his pristine kitchen was any indication.

Near the end of your trip, Tyson thought it was mandatory for you to have at least one night out on the town. He even corralled a couple of the guys who were in the city to join them and convinced them to bring their significant others so you weren’t drowning in testosterone all night.

When you emerged from your room in an outfit that accentuated all your best features, Tyson had to mentally slap himself before he started drooling. It almost felt inappropriate to check you out and let his stare linger over your figure, so he only allowed himself a once over before forcing his gaze to your face.

“Are you ready?” He managed to cough out, and you nodded.

The Uber you took to the bar didn’t last long, but the place was pretty busy when you stepped into the crowded space. It was a Saturday night after all.

Tyson led you to the corner where a few of his teammates were already seated, and let them make their own introductions while he disappeared to get you a drink. You learned the names of JT and his girlfriend Sydney along with Mikko and his girlfriend Susanna and also Cale. You recognized Cale from earlier in the week when he stopped by to ride with Tyson to the rink.

Tyson came back a few short minutes later with a round of shots for the table and a vodka sprite for you. The first round passed quickly and were soon followed by three more, one on each of the guys.

You and the other girls danced for a bit, talked for a bit, and by the time midnight was rolling around, you were more than feeling the effects of the alcohol on your body. It was nowhere near what you knew your limit was, but it was enough for you to lean a little too far into Tyson’s side and let your mind drift to other thoughts that didn’t revolve around the topic at hand.

It took a lot of convincing on Tyson’s end to get you to call it a night; all you wanted to do was sing another karaoke song with Syd, but JT and Tyson declared they couldn’t take any more terrible singing from either of you. You had nearly passed out on Tyson’s shoulder during the ride home, but he didn’t mind the comforting weight of your slumped body tucked into his side.

The waters you had before leaving and the relaxing ride back helped sober you up, and by the time Tyson unlocked his apartment door, the fatigue was threatening to take over your body at any minute. Tyson’s arm steadied you as you kicked your heels off before you made your way to the kitchen for another glass of water.

“Thank you for this week, Tyson, I had a lot of fun,” you said, both of you standing against the kitchen island and downing water.

“Any time,” Tyson blushed. “It’s been fun having you here.”

A week’s worth of sexual tension sat between you now, sizzling your body from the inside out, and you took a quick glance at Tyson from the corner of your eye. He was already looking at you.

Maybe it was the alcohol in your bloodstream or the years of pining after him finally coming to the surface, but you set your glass down and moved closer to his body. Tyson stayed leaning back against the granite, motionless as you took a step in front of him and nearly pressed your front to his. He set his own glass down but didn’t let his hands touch you, opting to grip the counter instead.

With one final burst of courage, you leaned forward, giving Tyson a brief moment to turn away before capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

It took a second for Tyson to comply, moving his lips against yours gentle as ever, like he was afraid of ruining the moment if he pushed too hard. You had to grab his hand to place it on your hip, and he squeezed it at your act of reassurance.

“Kiss me better, Tyson,” you whispered, pulling back only far enough to get the words out. “You don’t have to be so gentle.” Your hands felt their way up his chest until they reached his shoulders.

“I just don’t want you to regret this,” he said, letting his forehead rest against yours. “You had a lot to drink tonight.”

“I’m not drunk, Tys. Just a little tipsy but definitely sober enough to know what I want,” you replied. “Now kiss me.”

He searched your eyes for any sense of doubt or any indication that you weren’t going to remember this come tomorrow, but he didn’t find any of that, only a pleading look that was begging you to kiss him.

So he did.

He crashed his lips against yours with renewed energy, the force taking you a bit by surprise while his hands brought your body flush against his. You could taste the remnants of beer on his tongue, but you drank it down greedily, bringing a hand to curl around the nape of his neck.

You made out like teenagers there in his kitchen, fulfilling every fantasy sixteen year old you had, and you felt Tyson harden against your stomach. He only pulled away when your hands drifted down to dip your fingers underneath the waistband of his jeans.

“As much as I want to, we can’t tonight,” Tyson said, his expression almost pained. “I want you, but I also want us both sober.”

You could understand that. Even if you were slightly put out that you wouldn’t be able to feel him, you wouldn’t push it. Tyson was too good of a guy to go into something like this without thinking about the consequences first. You nodded your compliance and made an attempt to step back.

Tyson only let you get a few inches of space between you, but kept his hands firm on your hips. “Maybe tomorrow I can take you on a real date, though? See where it goes from there.”

His suggestion had your stomach twisting, and you matched the smile he was adorning. “Yeah, I’d like that.”